+Notable Author: [sevenpeight] Stories~collected

[sevenpeight]

Stories in this collection:

Liza Starts Working Out

Built and Violent

Most Muscular Wife

Fuck Yeah!

Methodical

Hong Kong

Musclefuck

Fire Fighters

Wife

Worker

Winner

Getting Pumped at the Gym

Muscle, Power and Lust

A Christmas Tale of Muscle and Woe

Double Date

Her Muscular Jaw

Unsubtle



Liza Starts Working Out
by sevenpeight

Liza had started working out and I loved it.  She was hesitant when she first announced she'd started going to the gym, but I complimented her frequently and vocally from the start.  She worked it out pretty quickly - no amount of bulking up or toning was going to make her 'too masculine' for me.  The notion was outdated and misguided.

So when she came home that evening I was waiting with baited breath.  She was always horny when she'd been working out.

Sure enough, when she found me on the couch, feet on the table and without any pants on, she didn't waste any time.

Liza walked over to me, slipped of her gym shorts and quickly straddled my legs.  Her legs parted, I had the perfect view of her glistening pussy.  Her hair trimmed neatly to make a line down to her wet lips, sticky and musky.  Liza called it her 'Lick-Me Line".

Either side of my legs were her's; strong and sinewy.  They were hard and defined and slick in the evening light, coated in her hard-earned sweat.  Taught ropes stretched from either side of her sex, joining the chiseled muscle of her inner thighs.  I could imagine how good they'd feel later.

But another treat awaited me next.

Liza grasped the bottom of her sweatshirt very deliberately with both hands.  Bending a little at the knee she began to pull the top over her head.  Slowly she exposed the first perfect pair of hard, square abs; deeply cleaved in the middle.  I longed to reach forward and touch, but I waited.  She pulled the top higher, revealing the next row of abs.  Hard, now a foursome of hard pebbled abs.  Sharply defined, oozing attitude.  You couldn't have abs like that if you weren't willing to fight for them.  You couldn't be that ripped without being fucking hardcore.  Liza pulled the top to just beneath her breasts, revealing 8 deep, perfectly chiselled, square, abs.  An 8 pack that could make your day or make you pay.  She crunched them, deepening the grooves further, showing how hard and pumped her midsection could get.  She paused there, turning her torso this way and that, fingers of side abdominals flaring untamed muscles of a prize stallion.

But the top went higher.  By this stage I had given up and started pumping my cock.  I was going to need release before long at this rate, but I couldn't help it.  It didn't phase Liza.  Her breasts bounced free of their constraints, large nipples erect in anticipation.

She put her hands on her thighs, splaying them outwards, descending towards my crotch, still holding her ab crunch.  I was mesmerised by the muscle under the skin.  Like a injection-molded superhero costume.   She reached my cock and her hot flush pussy slid over it.   She was radiating heat.

Liza's pussy started pulsing around my meat, as she manipulated each muscle in her vagina with absolute control.  I felt like I would pass out from the pleasure.  But each time I came close to exploding she would clamp down - hard.  The walls of her hot slick sex slammed shut around every part of my cock, threatening to crush it if it didn't obey her will.

She grabbed the back of my head with her hand and brought my face to her nipple.  I licked and sucked, tickled and teased, bit and flicked as enthusiastically as possible.  My eyes were on the veins that were starting to rise from her arms.

Just as my eyes threatened to lose focus from the pent up cum, she released my head, which promptly fell backwards taking me with it.  Her pussy clamp kept my member well inside her as she felt her orgasm build inside her, as it rushed into every crevice, waiting to explode, she crunched down hard with a crab flex which blew her traps out, straining to erupt from her shoulders as she screamed in ecstasy.  I blew my load inside her as she released the crab flex and renewed it twice as hard.  Her eyes were slits, her teeth gritted shut and everywhere, hard sinewy muscle was covered in veins that popped and strained.

I'd never cum so hard in my life.  I pulled my member gingerly out, covered in a mixture of her cum and mine.  She was panting from the fucking.  She was good.  She knew it.

She leaned forward and whispered 'I think you liked that.  I think you might like it if I got bigger..."  I pulled back to look at her face.  She was grinning....

[sevenpeight]

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[sevenpeight]

I was working in bed, hunched over my laptop, when the light went out.  We lived in an old house, so we were used to its idiosyncrasies.  This one was new though. 

I sighed as I turned away from the screen to go investigate.  That's when I realised the light hadn't gone out.  It was just blocked... by Liza's gargantuan frame. 

These days when I wanted to take her in, I had to look at her in parts.  She was just too overwhelming to comprehend in one go.  Too overwhelmingly large in the totality of her humongous body.  Too sexually potent to behold for too long.  Too powerful by the sheer force of her presence.  Too packed with pulse-racing, mind boggling detail.  The details were crammed into every millimetre of her awesome being.

Her veins were deep blue and pounded blood.  Thrust out by her muscles, her veins slithered and slid around under her skin as she moved; almost alive.  Her taught white skin barely managed to contain them, seemingly under constant threat.  The hard cut muscles and pounding hard veins threatened to shred it open.  That's if it hand't first been stretch to bursting.  At every moment, with every breath and movement you could almost hear it scream in agony.

In turning up to look at the ceiling I found myself staring at her face.  My heart stopped cold in my chest.  For all the hormones and lifting, the gruelling training and punishing diet, her strong facial beauty was as striking as when we met.  She had a broad face, blue eyes, thick juicy lips and strong lashes.  Recently she'd dyed her blond hair black, and with her lips a deep red tonight she looked stunning.

In the last few months she'd packed on weight faster than anyone I'd ever heard of, let alone seen.  And more recently, she'd discovered that not only did I have a fetish for muscles, but that I enjoyed being thoroughly and uncompromisingly dominated.  Luckily for me, she had also discovered that she had a pretty wicked dominant streak...

[Jeremy Lightning]

I have enjoyed your story so far, I hope there's much more, Liza sounds like an awesome girl, and your muscle description was awesome. k+!

[sevenpeight]

Thanks for the kind words!  Here's chapter 3:

She leaned into me, searing heat radiating off her and making me instinctively press myself into the bed. 

"Don't run away..."  she said softly, purringly... her arm shot out and her long hard fingers closed around my neck — "I want something from you."  The last part was a growl, like a rasp shoved into my consciousness.

Her hands had always been largish for a woman, but since she'd become addicted to making herself into a force of nature, she'd packed on meat and gristle in every nook and cranny of her being.  Her slender fingers had become thick and hard.  Her dark red talons dug into the back of my neck. Her fist began tighten into being as though my neck offered no resistance at all. 

As the panic began to escape the power of my conscious will to stay calm, Liza stopped exerting inwards pressure and concentrating her power upwards.   The arm which had shot out to grab my sorry body started to curl back towards her awesome body.  She went from leaning over the bed, one huge arm, with a massive fist at its end, steadying her, to becoming slowly upright.   

Her herculean right bicep bulged and creaked as she brought me upwards and inwards, to her.  The blue  snaking vein over the peaked heads of her 'ceps throbbed angrily.  Despite myself I reached out to feel the massive girth of her 21 inch monster.  My hands fumbled against her gigantic ripped musculature.  My fingertips took in the texture of her.  The pores of her skin were engorged, the only natural space saving the silk covering of her skin from bursting open and allowing the animal inside to devour her whole.   

By this time, though my feet still touched the bed, my whole 170 pound weight was supported solely by the machinery of her massive tree-trunk arm.  My hands wanted to stretch out further, to feel the intricate detail of her fibrous shoulder.  Individual strips of powerful musculature were visible across her shoulder joint in a gory painful testament to Liza's determination not to neglect an inch of potential development, paring away the hint of fat, the notion that humanity could survive in her form against the immovable force of her fierce and unforgiving determination.

She grinned at my lust, my desire to claw at her even as my vision blurred and my consciousness tried to feebly slink away from the inevitable oncoming pain.  As her grin turned into a sneer, I saw her raise her left hand out of the corner of my eye.  With the same stunning speed as her first grasp of her next her hand sliced through the air and connected with the side of my head.  The force with which my head snapped sideways was a reminder of her savage desire to surpass the meaningless boundaries of mortal frailty that the mere circumstances of evolution foolishly tried to foist upon her.  I knew she had used a fraction of a faction of the power in her coiled muscles when she hit me.  Still my head was ringing like it had been used to strike the inside of a giant bell.  "Don't you fucking DARE pass out you FUCKING PUSSY!" she roared.  I passed out from fear...

[sevenpeight]

Built and Violent
by sevenpeight


You marry a girl who you think is pretty good looking.  Not supermodel good looking, but given your own looks, you do pretty well. 

A few months go by and you notice that not everything remains where it used to be - but life's good, you can't complain; she's still pretty cute.

In a few years there are some spare tires around the middle, but you've let yourself go as well...

Middle age rolls round and the only thing holding it together is make up and your memory of how hot she used to be...

Well that may be your life buddy, but it ain't mine.  I'm 42.  And each day I wake up next to my wife and she's a little bit hotter than she was the day before.  You add up 20 years of marriage times 365 days of each of those years of looking a little hotter each day, and you get a fuckin sex bomb that will blow you brains out.

You see my wife doesn't have one of those airy-fairy goals like "I want to stay healthy" or something luke-warm like "I like to stay fit to get the most out of life..."  My wife has a single simple goal. 

Get bigger. 

She lifts weights like her muscles are powered by hydraulics.  She gets off on being as yoked as humanly possible.  And she isn't squeamish about juicing either.  She pumps her body full of the good stuff. 

She doesn't bother competing.  But she's permanently in a state of fully pumped, hard-built and close-packed density.  Shredded to within an inch of her life, cut like she's about to compete for Mr and Ms Olympia at the same time, with finger-thick veins slithering under her dangerous silk-paper skin; constantly feeding her fast twitching muscles.

Even though she doesn't compete, she loves to fuck with the heads of other female bodybuilders.  You see, going into a show, the FBBs who compete think they know their opponents.  It's a small group really.  So Shelly will show up at the venue and pick a spot that every competitor has to walk past — could be a corridor, could be the foyer, could be the dressing room — she pulls on a hat with a low brim so no one can make out who she is, and strips down to a string bikini.  She'll just lean against a wall looking menacing, or just slowly pump a hand gripper, her forearms bursting with a barely containable power which threatens to overbear the metal at each press.  She's just aggressive.  It's that simple.

Waking up next to such a pure manifestation of unbridled power is a constant turn-on.  She's at least 3 times bigger now than when we got married.  And I know she'll never be finished.  As far as she's concerned, there is no such thing as too big, too muscular, to freaky.  She emasculates the very idea of freakiness.  She redefines the word.

Now you may know that juicing and pumping iron is expensive.  The amount she eats in a day would probably cost the equivalent of feeding village in Africa for a month.  Now I earn good money, I run a lucrative business.  But she has her own income too. 

Because of her unique physique, and the unbridled violence that's always just below the surface, she attracts some extreme clients.  The supply of the services these clients seek is limited to say the least.  And consequently the prices she's able to charge are quite handsome. 

She never wears gloves.  They're for pussies.  And when she's finished they're always bleeding, internally and visibly.  They're always bruised.  But how bad it is is mostly determined by how much their bodies can take.  She once explained that beating someone within and inch of their life is more exhilarating than killing them, because you had to be able to inflict the pain right to the last point and still be cold-blooded enough to stop.  But I know it's more than that, because she'd never beat someone to within inches of their life - she'd go to that last inch.  The beast within her demands it.

She tapes her beat-downs.  Then we watch it.  It makes her hornier than anything else could.  You can practically hear the blood rush into her sex.  She used to make me perform cunnilingus while she watched herself beat the fuck out of some loser.  The stronger they were, the more they could take, the more excited she got. 

We had to stop doing that after watching her bring an MMA champion to within seconds of meeting his maker.  She got so excited watching it while I sucked on her freakishly engorged clit, that she nearly collapsed my fragile human skull with her killer thighs.  As she neared climax, her monster shredded legs, 30 inches wide at their peaks, sheared inwards, cords layered on top of each other competed to meet in the middle of the space occupied by my head, vibrating with excitement while she watched herself on our big screen, inflicting severe inhuman pain on a man who thought he was one of the greatest fighters in the world.  I flailed and banged on the outsides of her gargantuan legs screaming into the confines of the muscular prison which confined my face.  Truth be told that was nearly my end — the banging didn't help as her bloodlust drove her beyond consciousness, but the screaming, it just fed her euphoria, like a choir of bloodied demons was wailing at her incredible power.  She climaxed just in time, filling my mouth, throat and nasal cavity with her sex juice and unlocking her legs, dropping my head on to the floor, where I bounced back to consciousness.

After that episode we found a new technique.  Actually, Shelly gets off on it much more.  Plus I get to watch her work, which is a special treat.  She brought home a chrome strap-on vibrator, "With nodules for extra pleasure"... 

When she calls to say she's going to be randy, I drop what I'm doing and get home fast.   When she gets down to the basement, she peels her clothes off in front of me.  I'm always sickened and aroused by her superhuman development. Her 8-pack abs rumble against each other, like hard stones in a confined space, grinding, deep grooves in between each fist-sized protrusion.  Even her lower abs are so gruellingly developed that the groove in the middle of her extends almost to the opening of her sex.  Her she-pecs protrude further than her breasts did when we married, pushed out by her insane chest development.  Layers of muscle compete for prominence, striations so fine that you'd imagine you were looking at individual muscle fibres.  Perched atop each insane pec is a thumb-size nipple, hard and dark.  Each one punctuated by a thick silver ring hanging out in front of her. 

When she's disrobing, I'm naked and on my knees.  There's a six-pack of cold beer waiting for her - sometimes she likes to drink and fuck while the video heats up.  She straps on, still soaked in her own sweat and splattered in her victim's blood - it's like warpaint or some sort of maniacal make-up.  The sheen highlights her inhuman musculature.  Her arms ripple as she strips the clothes off.  The heads of her biceps peaked and packed hard like boulders flushed with heat and moving, alive like the fire of life had been breathed into them.  The peaked heads each split down the middle.  As she reaches down to pick up a beer, the humungous striated shoulders pass before my eyes - each larger than my head.  But for the insane size you'd swear it was bone because of the hardness of them.  She's used one to break a clavicle just by shouldering past a rude stranger in a crowd.  When he tried to complain, she fixed his jaw with her hand - each one is large as a giant's and the fingers are thick, every last part of her maxed out.

She turns the vibrator on as she empties her first beer without taking a breath. The vibration is for her, stimulating her monster clit,  while she rams me from behind.  As the action on the screen reaches its zenith she mashes her cock home, deep inside me.  My buttocks are bruised black by the repeated hammering from her shredded over-developed quads, which crash against my ass again and again.  At her peak she's moving so fast she's a blur.  I can see her reflected by the gloss of the screen.  i know she can see herself.  Saliva is flying from her clenched teeth and she growls.  She's bent over me like a beast mounting its mate.  Her bull-neck is nearly swallowed by the monstrous hooded back that's mounting her in turn.  Her traps are pushing against her ridiculously petite ears.  The corded ligaments in the front of the neck strain against the skin as veins dance around up and down her neck, over her monster pecs, down her chiseled abs, disappearing into that blood-engorged fuck-hole.  Her overdeveloped forearms, bigger than most male bodybuilders' biceps are reaching down for me, her large hands gripping me either side as her black-painted talons dig into my soft flesh, anchoring her gigantic upper body to my hunched form while her engorged lower half does its deed.

By the time she's finished, she's milked my prostate with her chrome cock, and exploded on me from behind.  She squirts so hard that when she's done we're usually both drenched in her cum.

The orgasm is intense and her big hands clamp down on me.  Usually I have a few broken ribs.  Only once was she holding me high enough that we worried a lung might have been punctured.  She took me to the hospital.  There was a male nurse.  He asked what had happened, but a low growl from her hulking form ended the question and any thought of inquiring further.

When she's finished, she picks up barbells with each hand, she's still vibrating inside me while she smashes out a few reps as a warm-down from the frenzied fucking.  Man I can't wait to turn 60.

[Jeremy Lightning]

This is a great story, you were very descriptive concerning the muscles, and that's something I like to see. There are tons of authors who you make me think of with the intricate muscle description, Mr. Shhh, Reaper, thesabre, Brand. I enjoyed reading it and hope you post more!

[sevenpeight]

Most Muscular Wife
by sevenpeight


I sat in the darkened room pumping my 50 pound barbell with increasing discomfort.  At the end of my 20 rep set, it was only just inching toward my chest.

Across the small bare space my wife kept pace, lifting two 50 pound dumbbells.  She, however, was not struggling.  Her movements, though slowed to match mine, were even and effortless.  Her eyes burned into me.

I dropped my barbell to the ground, and she lowered her dumbbells with painful care.  She stood up and walked over to me, her eyes never leaving mine as she sauntered on the balls of her feed.  Her face was set like stone, only her eyes sneering at my weakness.

As she sat on my lap, my member jumped to life.  Her hot, hard body pressing down on me.  Her impressive mass pushed my thighs into the seat.  Her rock-hard glutes rubbed against my manhood creating an unsurpassable barrier to its straining desire for her body.

Looking down on me she bent to one side of the floor, then the other, picking up a 100 pound dumbbell in each hand.  Still stony faced, she began pumping.  There was barely a sign of strain.  Just a slight sheen from the effort.  The sweat trickled on to me, electrifying my skin.

As she reached her tenth rep, the veins on her gargantuan arms began to rise.  Each arm seemed the size of my thighs.  The finger-thick vein over her split-headed monster biceps was engorged and angry, fuelling her with frothing rivers of hot, pulsing blood.

As she finished her 20th rep, the veins had crept to cover her entire arms.  The obscene forearms, pumped to freakish proportions and bursting with hard musculature, were writhing in them.  Her largish hands seemed composed of veins, bones, muscular fingers and long talon-like nails.  Although she was breathing as evenly as when she started, veins now pulsed on her forehead, across her thick bull neck, across her meaty pec slabs, over her 10 pack abs, disappearing here and there into the inches thick depressions between the fist-size chiselled abdominal parcels of muscle orgy. 

And then there were a mass of veins that crept bunching into her muscle pussy.  A split second after this thought I realised — the veins hadn't started pounding across this yoked she-beast because of the effort of lifting two hundred pound dumbbells for reps... they were feeding the chilling lust that consumed my wife while she jacked herself up to the hulking muscle monster that was about to feed on my outmatched, pathetically weak, male body.

My realisation was confirmed as she put down the dumbbells and stood.  Veins encompassed the vast landscape of her jutting and super-cut thighs, layered over striations that made her legs look like freaky alien structures built to support some superhumanoid which was clearly physically superior to mere mortals...  the veins fed into her aroused sex.  Her vagina was dripping pre-cum, like a mouth salivating looking at the prey its about to devour.

I watched in arousal, fascination and horror as she flexed her inner thigh muscles and her musclepussy opened wide, like a snake dislocating its jaw to swallow its prey whole.  And then she lowered herself, taking me into her, sliding down till my entire cock was inside her, then flexing wider again to take in my balls, rolling them around inside her.

The ecstasy was making my eyes roll back in my head when she clamped down, causing gut wrenching pain searing through my groin, bowels and belly, snapping me into reality.  She stood up, raising me bodily from the seat and supporting my full weight with her overmuscled sex.  Her legs were still wide apart as she was straddling the chair, but she began rolling her hips back and forth, rubbing her hyperaroused clit against my pelvis.  Her head was thrown back as she enjoyed the moment.

I grabbed her flaring lats with both hands, pulling myself up to provide more resistance to her throbbing muscleclit while I licked her awe-inspiring nipples, having to work hard to cover the engorged brown protrusions with my saliva.  Her lats filled and overflowed my hands, gigantic wings of muscle engulfing the puny man-fingers that grasped at them. 

I held on for dear life as my wife's thrusting became more urgent — dragging my midsection into her while she filled the ceiling above me then bucking her hips forward and bunching her ass cheeks into tiny fists of angry striation — rougher, faster, harder — my hands lost their grip as the stone-hard wings spreading from her massive back seemed to grow even larger, blocking the light as I was tossed around like a rag doll, my eyes taking in the chair behind me, then a glimpse of ceiling then my wife's hellish form, bent over me, teeth gritted and spittle flying from her lips.  She climaxed with a demonic roar, reverberating off the walls and shaking me to my core... her hands tore the chair in two, twisted shards of metal screaming as she ripped the tight molecular bonds like the fluffy stuff of so much fairy floss, spitting my genitalia from her monster cunt as I slammed into the floor, simultaneously releasing my massive load, which had been held in by her vicelike muscle tunnel, my abject fear making me sure that I would have pissed myself if the cum hadn't exploded  first. 

She leaned forward in a mind-blowing most muscular crab flex as her pussy went from gushing she-cum to dripping the hot sourness on to the floor.  Her unbelievable cobra-hood traps engulfed her bull neck as her monster biceps exploded and everywhere her pulsing veins crisscrossed her gargantuan form.

I was hard again... and afraid...

[Jeremy Lightning]

That was great reading! You, my friend have a way with words, the way Mr. Shhh and Reaper have a way with words. I'm very much looking forward to more from you. k++!

[phy911]

very nice work. It begs to be illustrated

[sevenpeight]

thanks for all your kind support.  I'm working on a little something new.  hope to post in the next few days and hope you'll like it.

[sevenpeight]

Fuck yeah!
by sevenpeight


Monica had started pumping iron seriously 8 months earlier. I don't know what set her off on her health kick but I was careful to encourage it without seeming too keen. People will always be more committed to that which they dedicate themselves.

As her fitness improved I murmured my appreciation of her body. I could see the realisation dawn on her over time. In small starts her mind clicked to the things in her which piqued my interest. I used words like 'strength' and 'power' along with my praise of her physical self.

She was slim in build when I met her. At 5' 4'' she was average in height. Her hair was and remains a deep red. Her skin is the smooth alabaster that often accompanies a flaming mane. She was pretty - enough to turn heads, but perhaps not quite enough to make them linger on her.

Eyes linger on her now though. Men and women. At the supermarket her shoulders draw attention first. Their impressive girth. The juxtaposition with her petite waist. She usually wears sleeveless tops, so the angular conditioning of her shoulders speak to her condition, and contrast with her bulbous arms.

A thin blue vein now snakes its way down the hulking biceps of her right arm. I ran my finger down slowly, pushing against her mass. 'A thin blue line of power' I whispered, stealing a look at her face. She was watching me intently. Without warning her left hand grasped the scruff of my neck, forcing my head toward the biceps I'd been admiring.

'Kiss it' she growled. Her voice a little hoarse from the dehydration that surely would have come from the workout she'd completed a few minutes earlier.

My lips were mashed against her throbbing arm muscles. The heat from them searing my face.

Before I knew it she'd pushed me to the floor and landed heavily on top of me. The wind was knocked out of me and I found her mouth on mine, her tongue lashing wildly inside me throat. She always had an unusually long tongue and with the increase in her conditioning it had become unstoppable. As though, deprived of a cock, she used her strong wet mouth muscle to cockslap me into submission.

Short of air and deprived of the ability to replenish my lungs I panicked. Trashing and bucking I tried to get her off me. It was a mistake. Her strong hips thrust me painfully into the floor an her left hand returned to my neck, her thumb - strengthened by ceaseless exercising with hand grips - digging into my carotid artery, threatening to burst it and spill the blood into my cranium.

I gathered myself as her eyes bore into me - making clear that dissension would not be tolerated. After a seemingly interminable impasse she removed her hand only to bring it thundering back down, a backhand to my head leaving me reeling. Through the haze I heard her say 'You will comply'. The hoarseness was gone from her voice. She was deadly serious now. I could feel her tight, muscular sex beginning to drip with thick salty-sour juices as her ability to overwhelm me aroused her.

As her power grew so did her desire to exercise it.

'Mistress' I gasped 'please allow me to please your sex.' It was the first time I'd called her mistress and she glowed at the address.

Before I knew it had happened I found her clit jammed into my mouth. 'Do you think you can please it bitch?' she asked, her voice betraying a grim smile I could not see. The only way to answer was to get to work. I licked and sucked, bit and drank. My hands grasped at the twin boulders of her unnameable glutes.

Just as I thought I was about to pass out from the pressure of her bearing down on me, she came with the ferocity of a lioness in heat, the intensity of her roar almost drowned by her musclebound pelvis gripping my head to its place on the ground. Had she not let me up soon after I wonder if her juices might have drowned me. I coughed it up as I twisted on to my side.

My eyes opened to her muscular belly, still heaving with afterglow of her orgasm. Before I knew it that unrelenting left hand was back on the nape of my neck. 'Oh no...' she hissed 'you were lucky enough to taste my Cum. You will not waste a drop worm'.

My face was mashed into the ground, the cartilage of my nose unceremoniously displaced with a jarring crack. My tongue lapped against the floor, the familiar taste of her orgasm coating my taste buds.

With the floor glistening clean she finally let me go, standing with her legs either side of me. I looked up as she burst into a most muscular pose, bull neck sticking out from traps that strained her skin to its limit. Striations ripped her chest into inhuman muscular glory, and her belly contracted into shredded abs. Veins crisscrossed her frame.

I exploded without even touching my dick. She roared again, this time unmuffled by her body, the scream was terrifying. 'Fuck yeah!' she growled. 'I'm gonna fucking enjoy this' - she grabbed me by arm and threw me on to the couch. Slick sweat covered her skin. She looked like an animal of pure muscle; possessed... From that moment every second of my life was precarious - I knew each breath should be savoured, lest it be my last...

[Jeremy Lightning]

Wow, another brutal, but beautifully described story. You're becoming quite the wordsmith there, I think you've really advanced your prose up to the level of some of the masters. I can't wait to read more stories from you, brother! k++!

[sevenpeight]

Methodical
by sevenpeight


My wife Olivia and I are both fairly unassuming. She's pretty but conservative so you can't really tell - you know the type, minimal make-up, ankle-length skirts.

I'm totally forgettable. I doubt anyone has ever looked at me twice.

The thing you have to remember about boring quiet people you see, is that they may be boring or they may just be shy. It's not always that we have nothing to share that you might be interested in; sometimes we don't want - or don't know how - to share it.

When a shy person shares something - shocking or not in the broader scheme of things - it's often doubly surprising.

A few months after our marriage, Olivia rolled over in bed while we were fooling around and pulled a lavender coloured strap-on out from our bedside table. My jaw hit the floor. She smiled so sweetly too "Do you mind?" she asked looking embarrassed. "I want to do you this time..."

How could I refuse her... I got on all fours and took it like a man. "Stroke yourself sweetie" she whispered from behind me, gently pushing herself into me and out, rhythmically "I want you to ride you till you cum". To tell the truth, hearing her say it like that really did turn me on a bit. I took my meat in my hand and started pounding it. Olivia kept pace behind me. As I neared release, and my breath came in gasps, I heard her starting to moan behind me. I craned around to see and found she had been pleasuring herself in sync with her thrusts. Knowing how much she was getting off on fucking me drove me over the edge. I spurted a load on to the bed bigger than most I'd unloaded in my life. Olivia came a moment later stifling a scream by biting her own lip. The last thrusts had been rough and ragged as her control had slipped from her conscious mind down to her animal self but I'd kept myself steady, a vessel for her love.

After our lovemaking we collapsed together in the bed. "thanks," she murmurred, quickly removing the sex aid and bundling it back into the drawer.

"Thank you," I responded, "for letting me in. Your trust means everything to me". I kissed her neck and we cuddled till we fell asleep.

That first step, taken by Olivia, opened up the possibility of sharing for me too.

Some short time after the introduction of Olivia's toy into our bed I shared my own sex secret. "Livvy," I said to her "what do you think of muscles on a woman...?"

[sevenpeight]

The thing about Olivia is that she's methodical. She looks at things from every angle:

- was this just a fantasy that was best preserved in fantasy form?
- was it a fantasy both of us could enjoy?
- did she want to become muscular?
- did she have the dedication?

You can imagine that I was quite thrilled by the fact she answered those questions no, yes, yes and yes.

Now our family life is what you might call 'traditional'. We didn't plan it, but that's how it worked out. I worked, and brought home a decent salary. Olivia took care of most of the household stuff.  She volunteered at a number of community organisations too, but she didn't work.

This worked out quite well for our little experiment to put a little muscle into our lovelife. I came home the day after my confession to find that she had bought a pair of hand grips together with a pair of training gloves. She was reading a book held open by a pair of dumbbells squeezing the hand grips for all they were worth.

"Hi!" she chirped, looking up to see me beaming back at her.
"Hey" I replied pecking her on the cheek.  "Not wasting any time I see."
"No time like the present" she said, ladling me up a bowl of soup before returning to her workout.
"You're not having any?" I asked.
"I already ate hon," she said matter of faculty "I know we normally eat together, but tonight just wouldn't have fit into my calorie intake schedule."
"Oh" I answered, realising just how seriously she was taking this. My dick began to throb at the thought of my soon to be beefier wife.

Eight weeks later, Olivia found the perfect opportunity to display her diligence. My boss, Graham, had invited himself over for dinner, together with his wife. Olivia had cooked a sensational meal and we'd just finished dessert when she brought out a large bowl of macadamia nuts. She had remembered that Graham really had a thing for them.

Sure enough, as Olivia put them on the coffee table, Graham lunged at them - it was quite unseemly.  Only when he had two in his hands did he pause to look around, confused. "Err," he stammered "where's the nutcracker?"

Olivia put her hand to her mouth, "Oh no!"

Graham started to go red. He'd be denied his beloved macadamias due to this woman's incompetence. I'd seen this before in the office, when he'd lose his temper altogether and start ranting and blustering - red in the face like a ridiculous husky baboon. I certainly hoped he wouldn't bring that kind of behaviour into my home - to my wife.

Graham's wife Celia looked ashen too – she must have been privy to more than a few of his rages.

"Never mind" said Olivia in her chirpiest of chirpy voices before Graham could erupt "let me —"

She leaned in and plucked the macadamias from Graham's hand as his rage turned to confusion.

Olivia's right hand closed slowly around the hard nuts, her fingers always long, were now grown thick. Veins snaked across the backs of her now seemingly large hands, at odds with the beautifully manicured and longish nails on the end of them. A look of serenity lay like a mask on Olivia's face as the shells of the toughest nuts in the world slowly creaked and then cracked open with a small thunder contained by her clenched fist.

I looked over to see Graham's and Celia's mouths agape, staring at the succulent nuts sitting in Olivia's hand, cracked shells laying destroyed around them. Graham's eyes flicked between the nut-cracking hands and Olivia's smiling face half a dozen times before he timidly jerked the nuts out her hand - a frightened animal afraid that the hand offering food might next offer him violence.

Olivia ducked into the next room and popped back in with a spare bowl. Graham and Celia sat staring at me in the brief interim. I beamed back.

Olivia got to work on the rest of the nuts. She cracked 4 at a time, each powerful hand breaking 2 open at any one time. She dropped the loosened nuts into the second bowl and dusted the debris from the shells back into the first. In very little time the first bowl was filled with dust and flecks of shell, and the second bowl was full.

Graham and Celia were having trouble taking it all in. The bowl of hand-shelled nuts lay on the table a while. "Well," said Olivia, quietly but insistently breaking into the awkward licence that lay upon our little company "you mustn't let these go to waste..." She was proffering the bowl of nuts to our guests, with the tiniest edge of a threat. Or maybe that was imagined. Graham and Celia did not feel inclined to argue. They quickly consumed the bowl before Graham muttered excuses and the both scurried out the door.

I turned back to my dear wife, who wrapped her strong hands around mine and gave me the slightest of squeezes, sending my pulse racing.

"Let's go upstairs dear..." she cooed "I wanna squeeze some of that lovejuice from you..."

[Jeremy Lightning]

Very nice, I like where this is heading, can't wait to see what other feats Olivia is capable of. k+!