Looking in the Mirror

taoschild · October 29, 2022, 11:55:01 PM

My wife wrote this story on her DA and thought it isn't really sexy I found it a window into her mind regarding lifting. Here is her DA if you're interested: https://www.*****jgmuscle12

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She held the tears at bay, but even now she could still see the hundreds of times they had rained down her cheeks. At the gym, she was strong -- powerful -- moving the hard, merciless, punishing weights around with ease. Her blood pumped the needed power into the demanding celestial spheres of her rounded, thick, vascular muscles. She watched herself in the mirror as she finished her biceps curls. Her arms looked big, strong, and intimidating. She'd always wanted to be big, but at 5'3 the adjectives that people used for her had always revolved around cute. Big -- powerful -- intimidating -- respected – is what she'd always wanted to be. At the gym, she was that woman.

She strode confidently over to the squat rack for the "real workout" her body is already lightly caked by glistening beads of sweat. The subtle glances and quiet whispers, most disapproving, from the gym bunnies, actually warmed her. It is proof that her metamorphosis is well underway. Becoming a female bodybuilder in today's society might appear counter-intuitive. Society demands slim and toned but she's the opposite. She craves size. She wants to be noticed. The final of nine siblings, being recognized for anything other than being bratty or cute was infrequent at best.

She stacked the weights, drinking in the stares, and then crouched beneath the weights. Set after set she felt her quads growing tight with the wash of blood. The blood temporarily eroded her tightly knit striations, but she cherished the feeling of the additional size. Shaking her quad back and forth, the muscles rippled and flowed back and forth like a wave until she quickly flexed it again. The thick muscle groups jumped to attention and separated into three distinct sections. Subtly, she grabbed them feeling their thickness and hardness grinning momentarily with the knowledge that they are stronger than her husband's quads.

In the mirrors at the gym, she looks big -- really big. It's hard for her to break her gaze. Finally, she ended the reverie and settled under the bar for one last lift. A new max. Breathing, and concentrating, she passes through each step of her mental exercises of positive thoughts. She imagines her legs are like leg tree trunks - columns - thick, toned, shredded, and most importantly strong. All at once, she contracts her muscles and drops down into a deep squat before thrusting upwards. Her bowels give a little under the stress but her legs slightly straighten as the heaving weight begins to travel upward. It is her body, her power, and her determination that allow her to accomplish this purely physical task.

The weight fought her, and for a split second, she wobbled. One lapse of concentration and she would have failed, but her grit and determination have never been an issue. Grounded in the moment, effort paramount, a ﬁnal tightening of her abs and thighs, and she exploded upward, victorious. She wanted to exclaim her success to the world, but she was a woman. The men were the ones allowed to grunt, bellow, and showboat. Despite her muscles that rejected society's expectations, she couldn't overcome this hurdle. It's fine, I'm late. Hurriedly, she racked the weights and rushed home

When she got home it was just minutes before the familiar taste of chocolate protein and a fist full of pills passed between her lips. Shower – hurry. Tonight was date night and she'd been at the gym for too long -- again. Rushing around she got in the shower while it was still cold, coaxing a host of skidding goosebumps across her smooth skin. As the warm water finally arrived she fought the urge to relax and sit under the gentle flow. Just a rinse, she tells herself. She lathered her tired, firm muscles with aromatic 'coastal pine' body wash and avoided getting her hair wet. Seconds later she dried off and rushed into the closet. She tossed one rejected dress after dress after another to the closet floor looking for the right one to impress him.

Finally, she saw it. He likes me in red. She pulled out the cherry red slip dress from the back of the closet – the one she'd always been too afraid to wear because it showed too much skin – and hurriedly threw it on. She tugged it over her still slightly wet frame, trying to avoid ripping the flimsy material on her hard, jagged musculature.

She turned around to inspect herself in the mirror on the closet door and wanted to melt into the floor beneath her. I look small. My belly sticks out. She grabbed a belt to hide the small bulge where her stomach sticks out. Just minutes ago it was a hard six-pack but now... my eyes are wet. There was something about the mirrors at the gym. The lighting, perhaps a distortion in their shape... They are like the fun house mirrors at the circus that made everything, warped, stretched, and look bigger than they were. At home, the mirror on the back of the door tells a different story. It's the same story that has been drilled into her head for decades. Small, insignificant, unimportant. She held the tears at bay, but even now she could still see the hundreds of times they had rained down her cheeks. Why can't I see myself at home like I do in the gym?

Approaching footfalls signaled her husband's approach and she gulped back tears, fidgeted with her dress, and fought to fake a hopeful grin. The door opened and her husband's face was stoic. He's disappointed. "Honey, Wow. You look... you look..." She hung on his words waiting for the one she craves "I mean stunning. You're so big. Big and beautiful."

He said the words she needed to hear and her hands slid around the back of his neck and drew him in for a kiss. Not a kiss ripe with desire. Just a kiss, simple, pure, and thankful. Thankful that he noticed.