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Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fantasies & Dreams  |  Sally and me
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Author Topic: Sally and me  (Read 10792 times)

aparash

  • Guest
Sally and me
« on: February 28, 2013, 08:27:16 pm »
Sally and me – At the pool

by nelek
nelek(at)gmx.at

The first installment in a series about the incredibly strong, tall, muscular and beautiful girl living with me


It was a scorching hot, beautiful morning when I woke up and decided to enjoy the day and hang out in the garden. You know, sunbathing, swimming in the pool, just relax with a good book and my music. Summer vacation is great – my sister and I get the house to ourselves while our parents are at work.

When I got out, dressed in bathing trunk and armed with a towel, I saw my sister Sally already lying out there. That surprised me, as I expected her to be in the basement, working out. You see, she's no ordinary girl. She's my senior by a year, which makes her 18 years old. Sally likes to go to the movies, hanging out with her friends, she loves the theater, but most of all, she loves bodybuilding.

She's a whopping 6 feet 9 inches tall, well over 300 pounds goddess of pulsing muscularity, with body parts bigger than on many bodybuilders I've seen. She's almost as broad as the doors in our house, but an inch taller, so she has to duck every time she walks through one.

I'm her little brother, Jake, 17 years old, a fantastic 180 lbs lighter that her, just 5'8", which means she's over a foot taller than me, setting my face exactly at the same height as her breasts. To be precise, my eyes are at the exact same height as her cleavage, my mouth is at the exact same height as her nipples. I know that because there was an incident involving the two of us bumping into each other last week.

For the last five years, Sally had spent at least an hour, usually two, of every day in our home gym working out. I usually join her for a short training, using the stationary bike or the treadmill. On one hand to get a bit of exercise myself, on the other hand to watch her lifting weights. Imagine watching that freaky body on its back, endlessly pressing an impossibly heavy barbell up from her chest and down. Sitting there, hunched over, flexing and straightening her arms to move a big fat dumbbell. Using the lat machine, pulling its maximum weight towards herself and up again or pushing her feet against the resistance of the leg machine, repeatedly defeating it. It's just mind boggling.

As a joke, I tried to work out with her weights once. She watched me taking her place after she'd done her set, and cutely smiled as I failed to move the machine or the dumbbells for more than one or two reps. Then we traded places again and like before, beaming, she would make her muscles bulge and jump to do the weights. When she uses them, they look light, or at least manageable. But only during her warm-up exercises. When she's doing her actual, proper training, I couldn't even begin to move the weights she handles. Sure, she struggles with the heavier weights too, smashing them back on the rack with a loud bang when she's finished. After each intensive set, she'd stand there panting, inflating her chest while breathing in and making it go back to its normal, unbelievably huge size when breathing out. Taking her water bottle and bringing it to her mouth,  her biceps growing when she bends her arm.

A bit into the training she'd start sweating and filling the room with the scent of strength and muscle. A smell that makes me light-headed every time I encounter it, which is why I always join her a bit after she started, so our gym would be already full of it. Coming in, deeply inhaling, watching her demonstrate and increase her strength while sculpting her body to gargantuan size beyond any fantasy one could have. Her body would glisten with perspiration, accentuating every single muscle group as she pumped them. Her light-colored tops would become increasingly see-through, although unfortunately, not completely. But enough to get my mind spinning, my fantasy going and my body on full mast, so to speak. She also has darker workout clothes, but those seem to disappear in the washing more and more. I know where those ended up...

Yes, I have the hots for my sister. I like strong, muscular women and my sister is the queen of them. Her body is an absolutely fucking top notch turn-on.

But I also love her. Not just just love as a brother, I am in fact in love with her. I love her smile, her humor, I love spending time with her. I'm mad for my super hot, super cool and super big sister. I know it's wrong, but I can't help it and I don't want to. What I want is to be close to her, be with her, not like a brother but more. I know that's not possible, but I can dream, can't I?

"Morning, sis!"

"Morning, Jake!"

"No workout today?" I asked her while I lay down on my lounger.

"I woke up early today, so I've already finished my workout. But I wouldn't want to be down in the basement anyway when the weather is this nice." she said. I moved my lounger next to her, because if I let it stay where it were, I'd have her in my full view, and I didn't really plan on getting hard out there. I took the suncream and started to smear it over my body, while she went back to her magazine. Plugging in my music player, I lay down and opened my book.

After a while I heard her voice: "Hey, Jake, could you lotion up my back for me?"

I lowered my book and looked up to see Sally standing at my lounger, right next to me. My eyes widened at the view. Good thing I was wearing sunglasses so she didn't see it. She was towering over me and the lounge-chair in glaring sunlight, that accentuated every single one of her vast muscles on her body. From my viewpoint, looking upwards, she had a hint of mountain-ness in her. I know, that sounds stupid, but you certainly feel like that if you sit in front of such a goddess, gaping up. Right before my eyes were her quads, anything but skinny, filling my vision. Her "teardrop" muscle was pronounced and seemed to be expanding towards me. Wandering up I watched as her legs narrowed to her crotch where her bikini string disappeared into the delicious looking cleft covered only by that piece of fabric. Right above that were her abs forming a three-row-washboard of what looked like inch-deep miniature ravines, crisscrossing over her stomach. Going further up I had to crane my neck back to see her breast covered by a bikini, a petite piece of cloth that only seemed to be large enough to obscure her nipples. Although it didn't do a good job, as I could clearly see the outlines of each tip pushing away from her tits. Also, I think I could see some of her aureola but that could also just be wishful thinking. Her breasts sat on top of her pecs which by itself would give her a luscious cleavage, as her muscles protruded to base the magnificent boobs she possessed. Over her neck which could have rivaled any ox, my eyes finally landed on her own, waiting for me to react. I took out my headphones.
"Sorry, what?"

"Would you lotion my back for me?" she repeated, shaking the bottle at me which made her biceps bounce up and down, bulge in and out. My mouth was dry, not only from the heat, but also because just standing there she had taken my breath away. I nodded and sat up making room in front of me.

She extended her leg over the lounge chair and lowered herself, momentarily pushing her butt so close to my face I thought my nose could get caught between her cheeks. Not that I'd mind, though. As she sat down, I noticed the chair sinking into the grass an inch or two due to her weight, so I adjusted myself and slipped forward, straight at the wall of Sally in front of me. I was much closer to her than I needed to be, anyway. But this way I could feel the heat that she emitted and smell a trace body odor, of which I tried to suck up as much as I could. My eyes were level with the base of her neck and her traps, since she's so much taller than me and was sitting elevated by her firm ass and thick thighs. Marveling at the ridiculous broadness of her back I wanted to get to work, just when she actually spread her lats out. I mean, really spreading them out. It looked like somebody unfolded a cinema screen in front of me.

"Oh, fuck!" I whispered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

..To be continued



aparash

  • Guest
Re: Sally and me
« Reply #1 on: February 28, 2013, 08:30:27 pm »
Just before, when she was sitting there relaxed, she already had many professional bodybuilders beat. But now, as her muscles expanded left and right, going far over the edge of the bunk we were sitting on, I was absolutely awestruck. It was a wide "V" of rippling muscularity that tapered from her round shoulders, close to the size of bowling balls, over her thick lats down to the small of her back and her narrow waist. Sally handed me the bottle of suncream over her shoulder, making her biceps bunch up and her triceps grow out. I took it from her (slowly, so I could enjoy the close up longer) and squirted some on my hands, while I watched her take her hair and hold it up so I could get to work. Her arm stayed that way and it was hard to divert my eyes from the huge bulge on it. And she didn't even have to flex.

My hand was actually trembling as it approached her skin. I've put suncream on before, a couple of times this summer even, but I'm in awe every single time. I started to move my hands around, rubbing the lotion into her wide back and massive shoulders, probing the firm tissue that was right beneath my palms. I felt the bumps and ripples and started to drool, I think. The white cream formed a stark contrast against the tanned skin, but only until my hands had worked it into her exterior, making her body gleam. I lotioned her traps, even slightly squeezing and massaging them, but she didn't respond. Probably because it would take much more pressure on her amazing muscles for her to even begin to feel it. Moving left and right, I put a hand each on her deltoids and gulped at the sight of my hand being completely contained by the big, shapely lump of flesh that emerged from her sides. Further down I lathered her lats with sunscreen, both hands on one at a time. While one of her ball-like shoulders was enough to make one of my hands seem tiny in comparison, her lats dwarfed both my hands by far.

Already I had run out of lotion to put on her, although I was quite generous with the amount I had put on my hand. Obviously I had underestimated the sheer size of her back. Just her back, no other body parts, which could have emptied the bottle entirely. Squeezing the bottle for more cream, I continued to rub her back, this time working on her other lat. I finished with it and moved to the middle of her back where there was this big, deep gorge going down the entire length of her back. There was a drop of sweat running down, right in the middle of it, making its journey over the ridge down towards her bikini thong. I had to restrain myself from – god forbid – licking it. I wanted to pick it up with my finger, but they were all coated in cream. So I just watched it going, heading straight to her ass and disappearing behind the fabric. I wanted so much to press my face against her, shove my cheeks against the mammoth muscle and feel the throbbing of the power that channeled through her. Being this close to her I would have given anything for her not to be my sister, though I wouldn't be in this position if I wasn't her brother, so I was thoroughly confused.

"Are you finished?" she asked, ripping me out of my thoughts.

"Er..." I hesitated.

I was finished, but I didn't want it to end. "I'm not quite finished, your back is still white all over." I answered. Her back wasn't white at all, I did the suncream-job thoroughly the first time. But still, I put my hands on her traps again and let them wander over the mountains and valleys of her body. I stopped before she got suspicious and tapped her on her shoulders "Now you're finished". It was like tapping a wall or a rock or something equally solid. "Why, thank you, little brother.".
She stood up and turned to stand right next to the lounger again. I was treated to this majestic view again. It was like looking up a tall building that grows right into the sky. It was intimidating having that tower of 320 pounds so close.

"Want me to do you too?"

"No, thanks, sis. I think I'm gonna jump into the pool to cool off a little."

True, really, since her hotter than the sun display of vital muscularity got me hotter than I've been in a long time. Sitting up and slightly bending my legs, I could conceal my throbbing cock, mostly because my book was still lying on my lap. Sally laid back on her lounger and I got up to head straight for the pool. I climbed up the ladder and jumped in, then I swam a bit, played with our pool ball and eventually, when everything was somewhat clear in the crotch area, I laid down in the air mattress, going back to sunbathing, dozing off and dreaming away on this sunny morning.

A sudden splash of water right in front of me immediately took me out of my snoozing. Sally had picked up the ball that was floating around somewhere and had thrown it at me, missing me only by inches. She was standing there n the shallow end smiling, waiting for me to pitch it back to her. I obliged and tried going back to rest, when the ball hit me right in the middle of my forehead. I saw her grin, gleeful as can be, and decided that this time I'm gonna retaliate. She saw me slide of the air mattress and grab the ball, and positioned herself to dodge it more easily. Like a pro baseball player I shot the ball at her, giving her no chance to avoid it as it hit her shoulder. The whole thing was a bit unfair, to be honest. I mean, she was standing in the shallower end at about 4'9" height, so the water reached only up to the bottom of her breasts, whereas I was swimming in the deeper end, at about 5'9", with my feet just over the ground. If I stood tiptoe on the bottom and tilted my face upwards, I could breathe somewhat comfortably. So she only had my head to aim at, while I had most of her upper body as a target. Also, not only her height but the fact that she was much broader than the average person made it so much easier for me to get her. Her next shot came, but like all the others, I zigzagged my way around her attempts to connect the ball with my face. We were both laughing and having a good time firing our shots at each other, me most of the times hitting the ample space on her upper body, especially her wide chest and her broad shoulders, with the ball always bouncing off the strong tissue with a loud thump. Her body was gargantuan unbelievably strong, looking like chiseled  rock and stunningly beautiful, but the odds in a ball game were definitely in favor of my slightly skinny yet rather athletic build. After some time her shots have become harder and faster, as she was trying to score a point. And boy did she score.

I wasn't paying attention for nothing more than a short moment, but when I looked back it was too late: I could only watch her massive arm move like a hydraulic pump letting the ball fly , approaching me not much slower than a bullet. With no time to move anywhere the ball hit me right in the middle of my face. Square on the nose, leaving a big deep red mark and a very uncomfortable pain in my head. "Ow!" I screamed, not such much because it hurt but because of the shock. Well, hurt it did, and not just a bit, but not enough to let out such a shrill scream.

"Oh my god, Jake! Are you alright?" Sally called, concerned. Within a couple of seconds the pain subsided and my vision cleared, so it wasn't a problem anymore.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Is it bad?" she asked, coming closer. I guess it was my girlishly exaggerated yelp that made her worry.

"I'm fine, I was just a bit surprised. I'm alright, don't freak out or anything." I laughed.

"Are you sure? Your face is awfully red."

"Oh, come on, don't be ridiculous, it takes more than you trying to break my nose to knock me out."

"I'm sorry, I really am." she snickered "How about a free kick? To make it up to you?"

She stood tall and extended her arms, offering me her body as a target.

I took the ball, turned away and jokingly exclaimed "I'm not sure, whether I want to play with a psychopathic killer like you anymore." I swam a bit further away, towards the pool wall, but I heard her coming after me.

"Aww, don't be like that. Just shoot me, as hard as you want, and all is good again."

"No, I don't wanna."

"Come, one shot free for you and we're even." I didn't even need to see her to sense her big smile.

"No. I don't wanna risk my head being cut off by a plastic ball smashing my face in at the speed of sound just because you're too slow to hit me."

She giggled cutely "I promise I won't throw it so hard anymore."

"No." I said in the most child-like voice I could muster and hugged the ball close to my chest.

"Hit me now, or I'll take that ball from ya and I'l keep playing with you – whether you want to or not!"

"Oh, yeah? Come on then, take it!"

I swam backwards and held the ball away from her. She stepped towards me, as she could still easily stand in the 6'4" deep water, while my feet were a foot and a half over the bottom. I reached the edge of the pool and stood on that step that goes around the whole side. Being a bit elevated, I could stand and get air, although just barely. Sally positioned herself right in front of me, standing on the actual pool bottom, her head still comfortably above the water surface. Even though I was standing on the step, she was taller than me. That, combined with her massive traps and shoulders that jutted out several inches left and right of me made her look like a big fleshy barrier. She had put one arm on one side of me, making it impossible to escape on that side, and reached out with the other demanding me to hand over the ball. I didn't. She thought I was playing the game, resisting her, but in reality I was mesmerized by the view before my eyes.

She had large hands that nevertheless looked feminine and went right into her thick wrists that looked almost as large as my forearms. But there were her actual forearms too, heavy and deeply corded. "Gimme the ball.". My eyes wandered up to her upper arms with prominent biceps swelling even though her arms were stretched and perfectly defined triceps ballooning, giving her arms the huge and sturdy look that made me forget she was waiting for me to surrender the ball to her. I looked up at her face that was looking serious but also smiling at the same time. "Give me the ball." - "Never!" I said as determined as I could with this powerhouse in front of me. She inched closer to me, so I extended my arm behind me trying to hold it out of her reach.

She came even closer to me and I could already feel her big legs pushing against mine. I stretched out backwards, forcing her to step even nearer, with the hard muscles of her thighs pressing more tightly against mine. Leaning forward to reach the trophy, as it had become, her abs came in contact with my own, although it should be noted that where I had a hint of a six pack, she had solid mounds, visible at all times, coming out of her midriff. And that midriff was grinding against me, slowly but firmly.

It probably was her massive thighs that prevented her crotch touching mine. Pity on one hand, cause the experience would be orgasmic; on the other hand lucky, cause she might have felt my stirring erection Following her arm to see what was going on up there, I had to take in a deep breath in mild shock. Her full sized limb dwarfing my relatively thin one, her twitching muscles and occasional vein against my quite well defined but still skinny arm. I could easily hide behind her. Her arms were of course way longer than mine, so her hands had closed around the ball and before I could even consider resisting her, she grabbed the slippery object and was moving away again, triumphant. She held the ball high, partly to invite me to do the same she just did with me, partly as a victory pose over her opponent. Holding the ball over her shoulder, her arm at an angle and slightly flexing her biceps, I felt my penis harden even more, because the last two minutes were damn erotic and my organ responded accordingly.

"Well? Go on, take it back!" she teased, shaking the ball at me.

"Oh, come on. That's not really fair, is it?" I swam a bit towards her "You're much larger and stronger than me!".

She looked at me with a pleased smile and raised both her arms to go right into a double biceps pose. Her arms were about my eye level, as I floated right in front of her and that made the sight much more impressive. They looked as if they're as large as my head, those massive, rock hard biceps and triceps with deep cuts separating them, pronouncing every single muscle in each arm. Oh, how I wanted to just reach out my hand and feel it. The hard mound growing from her arm that could easily overpower me and everyone I know. If only I could get closer and feel that solid mountain that makes her look oh so incredibly sexy. Her smile broadened as she saw my amazement. I guess I never admitted her superior size and power before, at least not in such direct words. That made her happy, apparently. Although, to be clear, there was never any doubt in the size and power that she possessed after all those years of hard work she put in.
..tbc

aparash

  • Guest
Re: Sally and me
« Reply #2 on: February 28, 2013, 08:31:00 pm »

She swam over to the steps and started walking upwards, with more and more of her body appearing out of the water. I followed her to the steps to get a front row view of her body. First I saw her thick traps as they pushed the water away, letting it flow over her big, round shoulders down to the trenches of her striated back. It was like watching a very muscular waterfall. Then she raised one arm to grab the handrail which put her triceps and biceps into my full view. I watched her going up two or three stairs, gaping at her muscles moving, growing and bulging, even with the easy task of walking. My hands probed my crotch, not for pleasure but to see whether anything was showing. Not really necessary cause I was standing up to my chest in water. Suddenly I had an idea to get back at her for the whole ball incident. It was what every little brother would do: pulling her back into the water by surprise. Whether it was conceived by the erogenous parts of my brain wanting to touch her or the parts responsible for being an annoying little brother, I don't know. Anyway, I lunged at her and grabbed the wrist of her free arm with one hand, and her upper arm with the other, pushed my feet against the pool wall and tried pulling her back. With one hand around her beefy forearm and another around her hard biceps, I was so entranced I almost didn't notice she let out an astonished short shriek and fell back a step. I thought I had her as the element of surprise was on my side, but I underestimated her size and weight.

Almost immediately Sally had stabilized on the next step and was pulling her arm back to her, slowly taking me with it. Her strength was unbelievable, as her one arm overpowered both my two arms and legs plus my body weight while I was still pulling, or rather struggling, to move her back into the water. She was laughing, as she wasn't trying hard to hold me in place and probably thought my straining expression was only a joke. I saw that she wasn't even nearly using all of her power while I had to grip her quite hard just to resist her force. I gathered all my energy and raised my pull in one last try to move her body, though it was a futile effort as she had been standing still the whole time. But I did notice that her arm was flexing more and started to quiver. The feeling was heaven to me. Her solid biceps turning into iron while bulging against my hand as my palm was mashed against the skin covering her incredibly sized muscle. 

Still grinning she jerked her arm up and over her head, lifting me out of the water, still gripping her arm as my feet left the wall. She put her arm back like she would to strike one of her amazing single biceps poses, only this time with me still dangling from it. I don't know what stunned me more: the feeling of her solid dome jutting out from her arm or her incredible strength that held me up, floating over the ground, with my feet trashing the water. "So, you were trying to dunk me?" she said in mock sternness. I just stared at her in playful mock fear to disguise my genuine fear as I was afraid of what she might do to me. This whole scene was so incredibly arousing to me, being at her will, powerless before her and enjoying the ride. I felt my cock harden, but it wasn't noticeable. Thank god for baggy trunks. "Let go of my arm" she said in the same mock sternness that told me she wasn't going to do anything bad, just play a bit of the game I started. I shook my head "no" and held her arm tightly. She then took her other arm and raised it to my face. Extending her index finger right in front of my wide opened eyes she mock threateningly said "Let go of my arm, or else..." and lowered her hand to my exposed armpit. I knew what she was about to do and tried to prepare mentally for what was about to come, but it was to late. Sally pushed her finger against my pit and started to tickle me mercilessly. Immediately I started giggling and laughing like a hysteric little girl and before long I lost my grip of her biceps and landed in the water with a loud splash. When I got up again, I saw her grinning broadly, hands on her hips, looking down at me. Then she climbed down the ladder on the other side of the wall, slowly disappearing out of my view.

I swam over to the edge and watched her dry herself with a towel and lying down on a lounger. She was so beautiful, I couldn't help but rubbing my crotch against the pool wall. I caught myself and backed off from the wall. I tried to swim a couple of laps, laying back on the air mattress, trying to divert my thoughts, playing with the ball (it only reminded me of the experience before, so I chucked it out of the pool before those memories would become to vivid), but nothing could stop the images in my brain and the stiffness in my pants. I had to get away. If I didn't get to release the pressure built up this afternoon soon I'm definitely start to run around screaming and shouting and drooling and whatnot. But I didn't really want to go. I swam over to the edge. Sally was lying on that lounger face down letting her long arms hang and her hands and forearms just lie on the ground. That made her broad back flare out; her lats showing off; her shoulders sticking out left and right over the edge. She was simply huge! Her back was so wide I could've easily sat there and have a picknick, just sitting there and not having a care for the world.

Her thigh muscles, the quadriceps, were wider than the bed she was lying on, which drew an interesting (and, at least to me, highly erotic) shadow underneath it. So, obviously, I didn't want to go away from that scene. But I couldn't just start jacking off in here in the pool, could I? The thought intrigued me: I had an excellent view over her enormous body, probably the best jerk-off-material ever, and I was partially obscured. She was facing the other way and was lying a good 15 feet away. Even if she'd get up to take another swim, I'd have enough time to hide any compromising evidence and just play it cool.

My hands wandered down to my bathing suit and started stroking the bulge through the fabric, which responded by slowly growing. I moved closer to the edge of the pool and sat on one of the steps. One of my hands worked its way into my shorts and started jacking. She was just lying there, her only movement was her upper body gently rising and falling. Almost like she was sleeping. It didn't take long for me to get my cock to full mast, as I have been on the edge for quite some time now. I imagined being with that body, to be able to fondle it, feel it. Lying on her, straddling her back, placing my hands on her and trying to squeeze the muscles lying underneath her smooth skin. To feel her power, her strength, the work she put into building that monumental body of hers. I looked away from her for a second to pull down my shorts to wedge them under my balls. It really was just a second - I mean, who could turn away from that body for longer than that? But when I looked up again, she had moved. No idea where those reflexes had come from, but within an instant I had slid back into the water, my trunks slipping down to my knees. I grabbed it with my hand and tried pulling it up without looking like I'm doing what I was doing. Then I glanced over at her and realized she hadn't gotten up, but just turned around to lie on her back, her head supported by a small pillow. She didn't see me, she couldn't have seen me. Impossible, out of the question. But I still had the scare of my life. My heart was thumping so hard I thought it was gonna jump out of my ribcage. I saw that she has made herself comfortable on the lounger and was lying still again, now tanning her front.

"That's it" I thought to myself "I'm gonna get outta here. Have I gone crazy, jerking off in our garden?" I pulled my trunk up and decided on a new plan: get my cock to go down as much as possible with those breasts, those arms, those abs and those pecs in view, get out of the pool, sneak past her without her noticing me and head straight off to the bathroom to jerk it out. Well, the last parts should have been easy, but part one of my plan took me some time alright. I don't know how much longer I had to stay in the water, but after about two eternities (it felt like that) my penis was somewhat soft and hideable. So I went up the stairs and then down the ladder, over to the other lounger with my towel on it, quickly without even looking at her. My "excitement" wasn't visible anymore, but I knew it was there, so all I wanted to do is snuck into the house and get this over with. At least, that was the plan, but something got in the way: Sally.

I had dried myself and was on my way to the door when again I looked at her. My steps slowed and I just kept looking. She was gleaming with perspiration, as she had been lying in the sun for quite some time. Maybe she'll get a sunburn and then ask me to rub lotion on her just like the sunscreen. A small moan escaped my mouth as I remembered the scene. She was such an amazing specimen of muscularity, and was right before me. Her eyes were closed so I dared to step a little closer. Her angelic face with her most adorable tiny nose continued into a vast, bull-like neck, supported by massive traps on each side. Her pecs stood out wide and tall brawny as hell, but didn't take away any attention from her breasts which were heavenly just to look at. Her abs were deliciously defined like there was absolutely no body-fat covering those hard bumps. I licked my lips. Her pelvis flowed into two legs that looked as if they were as wide, as long and as heavy as I was, complete with calves that anyone could see with no problems, even from the front. A good deal of her lower leg was hanging over the edge, as she was much, much taller than the lounger. I noticed her feet and how large they were. I don't have a foot-fetish as such, but any part of Sally's body was just absolutely mindblowingly beautiful to me, so looking at those size 14 feet made me lightheaded.

Suddenly I wasn't so keen on getting back into the house.



My half-boner was still there, but I held my towel in front of me so everything was covered. And it wasn't as if I was doing something wrong. I was just the little brother watching his sister sleep. To an unwitting bystander, I was possibly waking her up for a little chat or a swim. Maybe I was thinking about ways to play a prank on her that included a bucket and some ice-cold water. Totally innocent. Well, my thoughts told a different story. A tale of kissing and snuggling, touching and fondling, jerking and panting, pushing and licking, rubbing and coming.

I moved closer. She was so sexy in her bikini, a tiny red bikini with the strings around her neck undone. Her skin was covered in a layer of moisture with lots of little beads of sweat forming all over her muscles. Those lucky bastards. What I would have given to be a drop of fluid on that body, just like that one that was slowly running down from her pecs. I watched, mesmerized as it flowed forward, between the crest of her chest, over her abs, right in the middle of the ridge before finally landing in her bellybutton.

Then I had a moment of madness. Looking back at that minute, I was absolutely barking mad, with some insane superpower controlling my brain, but at the time it seemed like an opportunity that I just couldn't miss.

"Sally?" I quietly asked. No reaction.

I moved closer.

"Sally?" I said a bit louder.

Still no answer, so I stood right next to her.

"Hey, Sally!" I said but she was still out cold.

I slowly extended my arm, trembling, and softly put a finger on her belly. Her face didn't move a bit. God, it felt like the best thing I have ever felt. Of course, I had come in contact with her body often before, but now I had the chance to soak up the sensation on my fingertip. I let it wander over her abs, over the  knobs on her stomach, driving through and over the valleys and the canyons sticking out from her. I know she isn't ticklish, as a little brother I've tried more than often enough.
Unfortunately, I am very ticklish, which has caused me to become the tickle-victim every time I tried it with her. She would hold me down with her strong arms, sometimes even straddling me and torture me till I screamed and couldn't take it anymore. I did that thousands of times, never knowing why I enjoyed it so much, until the one time I got a little hard while she handled me. Sally didn't notice, but I surely did and that's why I have never tried it since. Well, not never. I did it a couple of times, pretending to put up a fight against her superior strength while it was just a way of getting my hands on her arms in action and rubbing my crotch against hers. The best way was doing it in the summertime, when it was hot and humid out and she'd been sweating a bit. I would poke at her armpits, damp and moist, and try to get as much as possible on my fingers. Then, later, I would be sitting in my room and smelling them while jacking off.

So my finger was strolling over her hard abs, those three rows of muscle. She had a forth row coming out a bit, which technically made it an eight-pack, but it was nothing compared to how defined and big (yes, big) the other plates of hard skin were. Gently, I moved my hand down and placed my palm on her stomach. I traced my fingers around the trenches that formed her abdominals collecting her sweet sweat on my finger. The moisture lubricated my touch and let me stray easily. I brought my hand up to my mouth to taste it and immediately put my other hand on her stomach to keep on feeling the wonderful mass that were her abs. The flavor on my fingers tasted like nectar intended for the gods, at least to me it did. It was a bit salty, yet very sweet,  tasting just like the fragrance she exuded. The excellent taste intoxicated me even more and shut down the last functioning parts of my brain.

I knelt down, put a hand on the edge of the lounger, the other on her thigh and leaned forward. My face got closer to her upper body and I could feel the heat eradiating from it. Being so close to her firm belly, I didn't even pay attention to the hand on her mighty hip, though I can assure you that my brain did pick the sensation and added it to the experience. My cock was raging in my pants being jailed in my trunks, leaking pre-cum like a faucet. I planted a kiss on one of her abs sticking out and felt the slick skin with my lips. It was so wonderful, a connection this close to the woman I so much adored. I licked my lips to collect all of that wonderful taste and reveled in the sensation to my taste buds. I touched a spot on her warm exterior with the tip of my tongue and was amazed at the feeling, as it was soft and smooth on the surface, but still noticeably pulsing with power and strength right to her very core.

Becoming bolder, I stuck out my tongue and daringly licked a couple of inches over the solid mounds, feeling my organ going up and down over the bumps. Soaking up more of that phenomenal scent and liquid I came closer and closer to the point where I would just be creaming my pants, without even touching myself. I probed the muscle with my tongue and sighed when I couldn't even budge it the littlest bit. I've reached her bellybutton and marveled at the tiny puddle of sweat, that has formed there. It was the sexiest pool, if there even is such a thing. My mouth was already guiding my head to it before I could even think about doing what I was about to. Putting my lips over the little hole and again touching her hard exterior, I sucked it, filling my mouth with more of that wonderful juice coming right out of the most wonderful being I know. Again, I tasted it thoroughly and while deeply inhaling to catch more of her odor I thanked heavens for this incredible experience.
Suddenly, she let out a little noise. Now, I have seen and heard some terrifying things in my life, but that quiet sigh made me jump back immediately a couple of yards, clutching my heart and staring in shock at the body before me. It took me a couple of seconds to realize she hadn't woken up, but those seconds – hours, to me – were dominated by a fear that gripped every single part of my body. She was still lying there and hadn't moved a bit, she just let out that sigh – or was it a moan? - and never noticed anything around her. She was probably dreaming about a gentle lover, worshipping her, wanting to make her feel on top of the world. Truth be told, that was exactly what was happening in real life.

I was too scared to continue. That second almost-heart-attack in one afternoon had reset my brain to my former plan: get out and jerk off. I grabbed my towel that I left next to her and leaving without looking at her again (well, actually I did take a good look at her. Dammit, I'm only human!) I went straight to the bathroom. I locked the door and … I guess everyone can imagine what I did next. Twice.



---
You love it? You hate it? Comments or criticism? Ideas, wishes, death threats, anything? Write me!

Offline j2001

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #3 on: July 09, 2013, 09:50:48 am »
Not sure why you didn't get any reply, this story is awesome! Sally is wonderful, as are your descriptions.
Now I'd like to see more dialogues, though. Perhaps Sally suspected her brother's interest and she's not that mad...

Offline Jeremy Lightning

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #4 on: July 09, 2013, 05:42:57 pm »
Oh, I have loved the Sally Stories ever since the first one, it's struck me as awesome and sexy, but I can't believe how clueless the sister is, how she keeps innocently showing off her muscles and strength to her brother and yet doesn't know the effect that has on him. I too one day hope she finds out and not only doesn't get mad, but delights in it, and purposely goes further to turn on her brother. k+!
Don't forget to K+ if you enjoy my writing.

http://www.the valkyrie.com/st ories/jeremy/index.htm

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/femalepowerstories2

Great stories about strong and muscular women and girls, hope you enjoy!

Offline JangoFitt5

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #5 on: September 07, 2019, 09:49:28 am »
This story has more chapters.He was a great author.I don't know why he stopped writing.
Here is Chapter 2

SALLY AND ME

Chapter 2 : Never wake a sleeping giant

by nelek (nelek®gmx.at)



It was almost midnight when I got home to find my big sister Sally in the living room, lying on the couch, watching TV. She was obscured by the sofa's backrest, but I knew it was her. For one, our parents go to bed quite early, and two, no-one in our family is so tall that this much of their legs hangs over the edge when they're lying there. Hell, I don't know anybody who's ever been to our house whose legs would hang so much over the edge.

"Hey, Sal! Still up at this hour?" I put my backpack down and took off my sweater. "Did you guys get my message? I would have come earlier but I didn't have an umbrella with me so I wanted to wait until the rain stopped." I walked up behind the couch. "Thing is, the … oh." I saw that Sally was asleep. She had been all the time and I didn't notice. I stood behind the divan, just watching her rest.

She looked so peaceful, lying there, completely still except for the slow movement of her chest, her body animated by the play of lights and shadows coming from the TV. Turning my head, I noticed how short this couch actually seemed with this giant lying on it. With her 6 feet 9 inches, each bare foot was reaching far over the end, hanging in midair, supported by her calves that lay on the armrest. Following her legs my gaze reached her thighs, those two huge bundles of muscle. Her quads were phenomenally large, much wider than the sofa. Even in the dim light I could see the striations and lines of her enormous limbs. I knew that day had been her leg day, so she spent hours in our home gym doing squats with a dangerously loaded barbell on her shoulders, straightening her limbs in the leg extension machine or balancing on a dumbbell with the ball of her foot. You know, the exercise that really makes calves twitch and balloon, especially her gigantic ones. All in all, her lower half looked exceptionally huge, even for her standards.

Over her slim waist and very short workout shorts my eyes went up to her stomach and the hand that was laying there, holding the remote. Her upper body was covered by a short-sleeved T-shirt that was way to small for her. I had gotten it for her birthday two years ago, as it's by a band that we both like very much. It's amazing that it even still fits somehow although I did buy an oversized one because I knew she would grow a lot more. And, boy, did she grow.
The fabric wrapped around her belly but couldn't hide every single muscular bump on her protruding abs. It went over her breasts, warping the print on the front, and her nipples that would pierce through if they'd be any bigger. I wondered what she was dreaming of. The material grabbed hold of her traps and shoulders like it would fall off otherwise and clung to her mammoth arms like I would too. She had one hand behind her head, making one lat flare out and her elbow hang over the frame of her sofa. Because her arm was bent, her biceps and triceps blew up and out, clearly winning the fight against her sleeve. They looked so big and solid, so hard and strong, even though she wasn't even flexing them. I leaned forward and rested on my forearms.

It seemed like half of her body was overflowing the couch: one of her thighs bloating over the edge, her lat spreading out and her undoubtedly weighty arm, all not lying on the sofa but being suspended over the floor. I wondered how it was possible that all this vast and heavy muscle wasn't pulling her down. Then, of course, I figured that the bigger half of her 320 or more pounds that was still on the couch was holding her in place.

Everything must be quite uncomfortable for her, being cramped by the slim furniture. She dwarfs everything: sofas, chairs, doors, exercise machines, bathtubs. Okay, I've never seen her in the tub, but I'm positive that she can't have a bath in there. Not without seriously remodeling the metal shape of it when shy tries to squeeze her ample body into our comparatively tiny tub. She could never get her immense thighs to fit in there. And even if she did, she couldn't lean back, because her wide shoulders would get stuck if she attempted to push back. So I guess she always uses the shower, but there are problems too. Does she even have enough space in there? Maybe she can't even bend down properly or reach her back, as wide as it is. She'd need someone in the shower to soap her, even though this would mean that this someone would be pressed firmly against her and her physique. That someone's chest mashed against the washboard that are her abs, her pelvis grinding sensually against his belly and his crotch pushing and rubbing against her thighs. Sliding up and down her body to reach everything, from her toes to her neck, gliding his hand over the mountainous, hard as rock shapes of her muscles. Lathering her, standing there naked, glistening, as the water flows over their bodies until every single inch of her is covered in soap. Asking her to raise her arms to throughly clean her sides and armpits, then stepping closely to her so that this certain someone's arms reach around her waist to get to her ass, the two tight globes of steel, feeling her buttocks as his fingers move over the bowling balls of flesh. Proceeding to ask her to spread her legs to cleanse the very core of her womanhood, the epicenter of sex. Kneeling down and moving his face to her crotch to closely examine the work he did and, if necessary, licking the area clean.

And then of course it would be her turn to return the service by giving the cleaner an extra strong rubdown with her large, strong hands. After all, considering that he's just spent the last minutes eye to eye - or rather eye to breasts - with the naked goddess there must be a lot of cleaning up to do. She would hold him in place with one hand – because she only needs one hand to hold anybody in place – and use the other to soap that certain someone up. Running her hands over his much smaller frame, stroking his relatively weak body with her lubricated fingers, massaging his torso to make sure he's completely clean. Then lifting him up and holding him with one arm, while the other goes to work on his legs. Watching her enormous muscles while being hoisted up like he weighed nothing would of course have its effect on him, as his growing member would start to press against the side of her breasts. And since there's still this part of him to wash when she's finished with his legs, she could use the opportunity and rub him clean down there. I mean, really rub him clean.
I tell you, I wouldn't mind being her shower companion.


The feeling of my cock growing, responding to this fantasy, brought me back into reality. She was still sleeping, unaware of me staring at her, being mesmerized and definitely aroused. I've waited for this to happen. For her to fall asleep somewhere so I could touch her again, just like at the pool. That incident was so incredibly hot, I thought I'd die from all the sexual charge built up in me. So, there I was again, with my beautiful, sexy, massively muscular and unbelievably strong sister in front of me, unaware of my desire for her.

"Sally?" I asked. In my mind, this scene was always so easy and seamless, but now she made me feel like a tiny weakling, gaping up at a goddess of monumental size, even though she was just lying there, asleep. Up until that point I thought that doing this the second time would be easier. It should be so fluid, checking whether she was awake and then feeling her up, but my heart was beating like mad, likely to explode from the tension in me.

Leaning forward over the back of the sofa, I asked again, this time a bit louder "Sally?".

She showed no reaction, so I extended my arm and moved it towards the one she had put behind her head. Before touching it, I paused and tried one last time "Hey, Sally. Wake up!".

Nothing.

My fingers came into contact with her skin and immediately I felt my cock stiffen more. Already I could feel how solid the muscle underneath was, even though I was only touching her with my fingertips. I shifted my body forward and wanted to put my palm on her biceps, to feel the round mass and watch how there was no position my hand could cover or enclose it. There was only one problem - her biceps were so big, they pressed tightly against her beefy forearm. My fingers wouldn't go between the two mounds of rocks, so I pushed harder until they slipped between the huge masses. Stuck in there, it felt like I was in a junk press, but it was so worth it. She was demonstrating her strength without even the slightest effort, holding my hand in place without even moving. My fingers grasped the chunk of firm tissue and warm skin like one would hold an apple. I squeezed and gave out a moan when the muscle wouldn't give. It was tough and didn't budge, no matter how hard I tried to dent it. I wanted to move my hand around this ball growing out of her arm, but it wasn't easy with her grip on my hand. So I grabbed it again, amazed at the sight of her unflexed biceps completely overflowing my hand. There was no way I could hide this massive bulge with less than two hands. It noticed my fingers going numb as the pressure on them was increasing, so I pulled back before they would be entirely crushed. I started to stroke myself through my pants with that hand, giving me a kind of muscle-induced "stranger", while my other arm reached out and kept touching her arm. I should have used this arm from the start, because this way I was able to see her face, not just to keep watch whether she wakes up, but also to gawk at her lovely features.

My fingertips wandered over the deep ridges that separated biceps and triceps, then headed upwards to examine the fat, veiny forearm that seemed to be twice as wide as mine. I put my hand on it and it wouldn't go round. Of course, my hand wouldn't go even round my own forearms, but if I squeezed, my fingers would come quite near to each other. But not here. First of all, there was nothing to squeeze. It was a big lump of hard tissue consisting of several firm streaks of muscles, all flowing from her massive wrist into her gargantuan biceps. Secondly, there was nothing to put my hand around. At this size, it looked like I was touching a flat, solid piece of bumpy skin, not a rotund, longish, basically cylindrical object. I might as well have tried to put my hand around a beach ball or a car tire.

I licked my lips as I fingered my way down to her triceps, the large "U" under the huge "O" of her biceps. It was a vast area, acres of flesh, being discovered and explored by my eager hand. I could grasp the thick block of robust meat with my whole hand, but if it were a ball (and as hard and round as it was, it certainly felt like that), I couldn't get a good grip to throw it. It was just too large. And just like every good ball, inflated so hard that you couldn't put a dent in it, this part of her arm was as firm as every other single bit of her body. I traced around the outline of the monumental curve to the spot where the fabric of her shirt began and went back again around the arch of her arm just to start over.
Her sleeves should reach halfway down to her elbows, but as it is with every short-sleeved garment she wears, they get pushed back up immediately when her biceps move. Not when she flexes, no, every time she moves her arms, even just the slightest stir, they twitch and swell up, giving the fabric no other choice but to retreat towards her shoulders, where it rests in the valley between her deltoid and her biceps. I don't mind, as it gives me an excellent view over the mountain range she calls her arms.

My palm landed on her shoulder, a bowling ball sized muscle of incredible hardness. Again, I marveled at how my hand looked so miniscule on top of the colossal area, at how much it dwarfed everything around it. It matched the size of her biceps, both being larger-than-life examples of the amazing development my big sister went through in the last couple of years. Building her body up, through pain and sweat, through willpower and motivation, going repeatedly past her limits, to become the ultimate fantasy: sexy, shapely curves, feminine like no other, combined with strength that can be positively frightening. I swallowed hard.

My cock was pushing against my jeans, desperately trying to break free. I decided to leave it as it was, as the pressure of my pants against it was quite stimulating. Also, it was safer to take care of it when I couldn't be interrupted, like in a room with a lock on the door. In that moment, I wanted to get closer to her, so I leaned forward more and more, the tips of my toes almost leaving the floor, my upper body hovering over hers, holding myself steady with my one free hand while the other reached for the grade A meat before me.

Her lats was my next destination or, to be precise, her one lat that spread out from her side. One impressive wing of power, a thick, large plate of muscle, big enough to sit on. Even completely relaxed, they're strong enough to push her arms out, making them hang at a bit of an angle. But when she raises her arms, they fan out like a superhero's cape, except not flapping in the wind but staying perfectly still. I probed the one I was holding and groaned in pleasure when it wouldn't give the slightest bit. You'd think I should be getting used to finding every body part of her being as hard and rigid as iron, but every inch of her I touch surprises me anew. I fondled the muscle and almost drooled at the fact how it filled the shirt completely. There was absolutely no air between the muscle and the material stretched over it. I wished I could touch the mammoth slab without the fabric between her skin and my fingertips, but I didn't miss out on much, since the warmth of her body and the tension and brawniness of her flesh went through it like it was nothing.

My forearm came in contact with her breast and immediately I steered towards them. I put my hand on the ball and moaned;  it wasn't hard, but soft and tender, unlike anything else about her body. It seemed I had found her soft spot and, boy, was I gonna enjoy that. Groping it while watching my fingers dig into the flesh and then watching the firm tissue go right back to its original, round shape. I caressed the lump, rubbing over her bosom, occasionally grabbing it and lifting it, feeling the weight that was perfectly appropriate to its size.
I could feel her nipple against my palm and started playing with it. My fingertips touched the small, but longish bulge that grew out of her and fondled it. I groaned again when I thought I could feel it growing between my fingers, responding to my touch. A quick look confirmed that Sally was still asleep, so I pushed my thumb against it, noticing it getting harder and bigger. It was a good thing actually that she was wearing a shirt, because otherwise I would have leaned forward and started sucking her teat. Letting my tongue play around it, fighting, toying, flicking it until maybe she would leak some tasty milk for me. Good for her that I couldn't access her nipples, because I probably would have sucked them dry. But I was more than happy - very happy actually if you'd check my pants - to be squeezing and fondling her like that.

Her breasts went right into the big plates that adorned her chest. Following that track, I felt the mass under the fabric going from soft but firm to absolutely rock hard. Her pecs bulged out giving her a deep, sensual cleavage even if she didn't have any breasts at all. I wanted to feel as much as possible of her pecs, the humungous foundation made of luscious meat to hold her bosom up and pointing forward, better than any bra could do. Noticing that she wasn't even wearing one right now I let out a long, pleasure-filled "aah". My hand rubbed over the sphere once again, a feeling now heightened by the sort of new fact that I was separated from her skin by only one thin layer of fabric.

I found the outer lines of her pecs and fingered them, pushing her tit away with the back of my hand. Following the tough pec-cliff along the sea of her abs my hand reached her cleavage, the fjord of her teats. Over it strechted the fabric, like a bridge stuspended over the bottomless gorge between two mountains, going forward as it lowered and connected with the ground again. The destination of this tour was the deep ravine in the middle of two muscles, a broad riverbed of thick flesh. I let my fingers run up and down this rift, feeling the striated muscles of her chest. I pushed my fingers into the wall, groaning in pleasure as I was back on solid muscle, familiar territory so to speak.
I was amazed at how blessed this girl before me was. Not only the amazing willpower and genetics to shape herself into a living and breathing muscle freak, but also graced with big, sexy tits and a beautiful, adorable face to make her irresistible to any man, especially me.

My penis was as hard as possible against my jeans, as big as it could get confined in the prison of my trousers and was oozing pre-cum into my underpants. I could feel the sweat that had formed on my forehead, wetting my hair, so I wiped it away. Breathing heavily I surveyed the body in front of me, like a wanderer who had just climbed a mountain and rests while looking at the hills surrounding it. It definitely felt like that because I was out of breath, sweating and there were some really beautiful hills I could look at. And I didn't want to stop, I wanted to take further advantage of this situation, as I didn't know when I'd get an opportunity like that again.

The next stop would be her abs. Her hand was lying there, but I wasn't gonna miss out on those delicious blocks of beef. And I know they're delicious, I've tasted them. So I repositioned myself with my feet standing firmly on the floor so I wasn't at risk of losing my balance and maybe falling and landing on her. I took her wrist with one hand and tried to lift it off of her. God, it was heavy. Not like I couldn't move it, but I was really having a hard time doing it. I gently held her forearm with my other hand to help me shift her massive, weighty arm away to expose her midriff. Apparently I didn't do it smoothly enough, because suddenly I heard:

"Jake, what are you doing?".

I froze. It felt like everything about me stopped at that second: my heart thumping, my pulse beating, my blood flowing, my hair growing. Even my wristwatch was probably standing still. Her voice uttering five little words, completely harmless in itself, has pushed the pause button in me. I could only stand there, holding one arm that was getting heavier and heavier each second.
Obviously, if you wake up and find your little brother holding your arm up, you don't expect him to be molesting you. Hell, even if you wake up and find your brother groping your tits, moaning while his other hand disappears somewhere in his pants, the last thing anyone would expect is him using you for his depraved sexual needs. You'd think he's swatting a fly or something.

But, of course, if you were actually fondling your mighty muscular sister, and she wakes up, you don't think quite clearly. You're horrified, in terror, nearly crapping yourself while your brain goes out the emergency exit. Thinking she's gonna kill you for touching her private parts, you can't really come up with an explanation for why you're standing there. Instead, your head fills with images of her at her most powerful.
I've seen her pushing weights beyond belief and handling unbelievable masses of iron like one would handle a shopping bag. I've seen her getting up from her exercise to pose in front of the mirror, making her sweaty, gleaming muscles balloon to incredible size. I've seen, heard and felt her letting out an earth shattering roar when she squeezes out one more rep to top off her amazing feats. All those memories, combined with her monstrous, Herculean, gargantuan frame right in front of you can make you forget that she is your sister and that she loves you. You're so scared, you almost shit your pants because your mind's stopped functioning just like mine at that moment.

"Are you trying to take the remote?"

Here's the thing: when you've just spent an eternity being paralyzed by shock, even though this eternity is only two seconds long in real terms, you don't immediately see the opportunity to get off scot-free. You're still mentally someplace else so you can't really jump at the perfectly innocent excuse she's just provided you.
I turned my head and looked at her face. My bodily functions were coming back as I saw her grinning broadly up at me.

"What?"

I was still a bit slow. You try rebooting your mind after a blackout.

"You were trying to take the remote, weren't ya?"

I relaxed a bit, because obviously she hadn't noticed anything and I had the ideal chance of getting out of this with no harm done. Looking at the remote, at the arm in my hands and then back at her face, I knew the whole matter would be settled if I just said something like "I checked, you've fallen asleep! I didn't want to wake you!" but I still felt like the deer caught in the headlights.

"Well, no, I, I … er … was..."

-"Yes, you were!" she exclaimed in mock anger. "I was just resting my eyes during the commercial breaks and you try to steal the remote from me, you little brat!"

She was very much in a jokey mood, so I wasn't afraid of her anymore. But I still wanted to get out of there as fast as possible.

"Look, Sal, I was just..."

-"Someone should teach you a lesson about taking things from people in their sleep!"

"Teach? What do you-?"

I couldn't finish the sentence. As quick as a wink she had dropped the remote and was suddenly gripping my wrist instead. I instinctively tried pulling my arm back, but she had grasped it gently, but without a doubt very firmly. Her other hand shot up and placed itself under my armpit, effortlessly holding me in place. Before I could react, she had hoisted me up in the air as if I weighed nothing. I let out a very aroused moan, that luckily could be interpreted as an exclamation of amazement, and felt my cock rebelling strongly against the confines of my trousers. Thank god for denim, as I was sure that it wasn't showing. I often imagine what it would be like to be lifted by Sally, being elevated to her eye-level, my feet dangling over a foot over the ground, but I never imagined it to be so erotic as this quick, fluent, by-the-way motion. After all, I do weigh 140 pounds.

She pulled me over the backrest of the couch and positioned me on herself. I was lying on her at a slight angle, my chest pushed against one of her breasts, my belly grinding against her abs, my legs brushing her hard thighs and my crotch pushing into her pelvis which made me groan again. As I was about to slip off I intuitively grabbed something to steady myself. It was sturdy but warm so I immediately knew I had gotten hold of her arm. Again, I groaned, but saw that it went unnoticed because she was laughing quite loudly at the sight of me struggling on the uneven surface of her body. My other hand searched for something to lean on and found her shoulder. I wanted to stand up and remove myself from this ultra-hot scene - a paradox at first thought, but rubbing my boner against my sister could result in troubles. Straightening my arms and putting my legs on either side of her waist, I momentarily managed to escape the gravity my sister apparently held me with.

But the second I had propped myself up I was held in place again by sheer force of attraction – her attraction, to be precise. I was looking up at her angelic face, looking into those big eyes, her sensual lips that still formed a big smile and the dimples framing her cheeks as she uttered the most beautiful laugh one could ever hear. My eyes went south and marveled at her bulky neck, her muscles contracting and relaxing with each chuckle and burst of giggles, as it spread left and right into her big traps. I looked at my arms and noticed two things: first, how much less I filled my sleeves than she did, and second, how far apart my hands actually were. She was so broad, I couldn't believe it. From up close it looked impressively wide. There wasn't more time to examine the body in front of, or rather under me, because she started moving. It felt like those movies, where the hero sees the ground vibrating and shaking only to have it turn into a big monster, revealing that he'd been standing on it all along.

Sally had noticed that I was trying to climb off of her and stopped me. The biceps I held was raising and becoming firmer, all under my palm. Her hand came nearer and grabbed my shoulder, making it impossible to move my arm or my upper body. As she moved her other arm to do the same on the other side my hand slipped off her shoulder, so it was free to put up a fight. I grasped her biceps and pushed back with all my might, which acutally slowed her down. Only for a second, but still. My palm pushed against the hardening rock jutting out from her arm in a futile attempt to stop her from conquering my other shoulder. The feeling of my hand against her bulging muscle was another turn-on in a long list of many in these minutes, another thing that would have made me moan. Lucky enough, I could disguise the moan into a sort of grunt of struggling, an idea I should have had much earlier. As expected, within seconds she had me completely overpowered, holding my upper body and arms totally still. I struggled, but all the power I could muster was no match for the playful way her mighty arms were restraining me. Swallowing hard I looked at the mischievous grin she was still sporting. Her left hand started its way down towards my hand. Never letting go of my arm I reveled in the firm and strong grip she was exerting on me. She grabbed my wrist and pulled it toward the other. I could see where this was going and started fighting against her grip, trying to escape, even though I knew that resistance is futile.
Sally took my wrists in one hand, her fingers going almost around both of them, holding them tight. She raised her arm up with mine, not only immobilizing me but also exposing my belly and armpits to her mercy.

"And now for your punishment."

I was feeling a mixture of horror, excitement and lust as she brought up her hand and started caressing my flat chest. She didn't spend a long time there, because soon she went right for the kill and pushed her fingers into my pits and tickled me like I knew she would. Only it was much worse than what I had tried to prepare myself for in those few seconds I had. Her long, almost muscular fingers dug deep into that extremely sensitive area, hitting the right spots like a specially designed missile.
I was laughing hysterically, giggling loudly like a maniac, shrieking in pain and pleasure as she handled me like an expert torturer. My body was twitching erratically, jerking around, having spasms like a big, fat murderer being executed. But there was no avail, all of me was held in place by one hand holding my wrists. She only let me relax in those short moments when she switched from one armpit to the other. Then the tickling, the laughing and the spasming would start all over again, seemingly with no end.

At one point I got one hand free and immediately wanted to stop her. I put my hand around her wrist and tried to pull it away but it wouldn't move a bit. In fact, Sally didn't even bother to take my free arm and put it back into the vise where my other arm was still securely kept. Still trying to end this amazing but confusing feeling, as it was pleasure but also agony at the same time, I clutched her biceps and pushed it away from my body. It didn't have much of an effect because you know who I was pushing against and also because I couldn't really gather my strength anyway, being weakened by the continuing assault. But I didn't stop trying, as it meant feeling her biceps in action, enclosing the hard ball while it contracted into a round form and squeeze the lengthened shape when she extended her arm again. I couldn't even make a dent in her arm, let alone stop her doing to me whatever she wanted. I felt so helpless at the hands of my big sister, being handled by her so easily. A thought that made me grunt and moan in between bursts of loud laughs while my crotch rubbed against her stomach, over the muscular bumps under her shirt. I had to do something to get away, because my cock was reacting wildly to this stimulation and I was afraid I could go off very soon.

So I reached up to the hand that was holding mine, wanting to loosen the fingers that clamped around my wrist. Fat chance. Her fingers didn't budge a bit and only moved when she tried to catch my hand again. I pulled it away quickly and tried desperately to figure out a way for her to release me. Trying to pull her arm down, I put my hand on her forearm and pushed. It was fruitless, as I kept jerking and couldn't build up any pressure on it. I tried it differently, turning my hand, putting it on the other side of her arm and pulled. This way I could use my body weight by leaning sideways, away from the arm holding mine up and over the edge of the couch. It even had an effect, as I felt myself slipping away from her, giving me a second of hope that I have made my escape. It was a nice second, thinking that I've gotten out of it. But immediately I could feel the grip on my wrist pulling me back up, back on top of her. She even used her tickle-hand and pushed me back by my shoulders. Something that she really didn't need to do, as her one hand can easily hold me up, a fact she demonstrated more than once. Maybe she used her other hand to tease me and mock my relative weakness, or maybe she didn't want to hurt me by heaving me up by only one arm.

But the moment she didn't tickle me gave me a crack at doing something to really get away. The problem was that I didn't have the slightest idea how I could use this. The only thing I could think of was pointless, but I was determined not to give up without a fight. So I lunged forward and buried my hand in her exposed, yet fabric covered armpit. I tried to get back at her even though I knew she isn't ticklish. My fingers stroked the cavern but without reaction. I could see from the corner of my eyes that Sally was watching me with an amused grin, but I was busy getting trying to get any reaction from her, feeble as my attempts may have been.
After a short while she decided that I've had my shot at tickling her and proceeded to go back to my pits. She extended her arm and reached over – with my hand still there. It got trapped between her bulging biceps and triceps and her chest, cramming it in the rock shelter.

"What are you trying to do, Jake? Tickle me? Tickle me like... this?"

With that she went back to her full offensive on me, getting back to making me jerk around and giggling maniacally, this time trapped at two places: one of my hands being held up in hers, the other trapped in her armpit. I attempted to pull it back free, but she had secured it safely there and wasn't about to give it away just like that.

Sally paused for a moment, giving me time to regain my breath. I wasn't gonna beg her to stop. I knew it was useless as she was enjoying herself too much. And she knew that I was enjoying it too much. She saw that I was coming back down and started again, only this time, she headed for my belly. The sudden sensation on my midriff surprised me, as it was apparently much more sensitive than my pits. I jerked back in an uncontrolled motion, even getting both my hands out of their respective locks. The joy didn't last long, as I lost balance and fell backwards on her thighs before rolling sideways down and landing on the carpet. Landing on her thighs wasn't painful as such, but I had definitely felt it. They were hard, stocky and certainly firmer than the rug.
But I didn't mind because I was free!

I stood up – unknowingly even steadying myself on her very thigh with one hand – and wanted to leave, but Sally wasn't finished with me. She had sat up, placing one foot on the floor next to me, and watched me get up with that mischievous grin again, snickering as she saw me noticing my hand on her thigh, quickly pulling it away. I turned around and wanted to walk, when I felt her hand on my wrist again.

"What the...?"

I turned around and saw her smirking. My eyes went downwards from her face over her bulging shoulders, her ballooning biceps that pulsed in excitement and anticipation of what she had in mind for me, her swelling forearm to her large hand, encircling my wrist and holding me in place. Her other arm darted forward and grabbed my bicep, now holding me even firmer. We both stood – or, in her case, sat – there not moving for a couple of seconds.

Suddenly she pulled me towards her but turned me during the quick move so my back was toward her. At the same time, she stretched out her leg she had put on the floor and raised the other she still had on the couch. As I was traveling backwards I saw her legs appearing left and right of me. Sally had spread her legs and was now pulling me between them. My lower back connected with abs, while she closed her thighs around me, locking her ankles together. It was impossible for me to escape, as she still gripped my one arm with both of hers, rendering every movement out of the question except she wished so. But even if she'd let go of my arms I couldn't leave, as my legs were held by her massive thighs, ever so slightly squeezing mine.

"Jake, are you trying to run away?"

I know that voice, and I knew in that second that she was just playing. That made me relax, but I was still uncomfortable as I was detained in a freaking pair of hypermuscular thighs. She leaned forward and I could feel the warmth of her body on my back. Her left arm encircled me from the left, her right from the right, trapping my upper body in a muscle hug. I felt her breasts pushing in to my back, her biceps compacting my arms, mashing them into my body. This situation, me being literally engulfed by her, was very hot. I can't think of another word, it was just so hot. It felt hot and probably looked even hotter. Small guy held by the super hot big girl.
I twisted and struggled to get free, mostly because I actually wanted to go, but also because it made her increase the pressure on me. I moaned repeatedly as she pushed her muscles into mine, immobilizing me even more. Now I could feel the pulse of her body, the slow movement as she breathed in and out. There was something she wanted to do to me, and I was torn between fear and excitement. I was standing there, mammoth legs wrapped around my thin ones. Huge, round thighs pressing mine together. One big arm enveloping my stomach. The other enclosing my chest.

"I'm not yet finished with you."

I could tell she said that with the most wicked smile on her face, I could almost smell the devilish teasing. It was useless to try and prepare for what was to come. I didn't know what to expect, I only had a slight idea and if it was true it would be hell no matter what I did.

Sally relaxed her grip on me a bit, but wasn't releasing me. We were quiet for a moment, before she swiftly leaned back, making her legs and arms wander up my body. Then, before she had completely laid back on the couch, she tightened around me again and lifted me up and took me with her. My feet left the floor, as I was now held by her thighs around my pelvis and by her arms around my chest. I was hurled backwards in controlled motion, even though it didn't feel like that. Mid-air, she shifted her touch, so when I landed back on the sofa, her in the position she had slept in, I was a bit lower.

This whole change of positions took only one or two seconds, so I had to orientate myself. My arms were free, the pressure on them was gone. But I could still feel her hugging my chest, as I noticed the weight on my torso. Her ripped abs were huddling against my back. Looking down, my eyes widened at what I saw: her huge, mountainous thighs had wrapped around my midriff, crossing just over my crotch. Big, thick cords of muscle encircling my waist and rubbing ever so slightly against my sides. Round, bulky rocks, covered by soft skin, shaped like the ultra sexy legs I had for so long wanted to feel up close were pressing from left and right. Each a bundle of strength and power, a pack of brawn and energy, heavy as it rested on poor, lucky me. Tough and unmovable flesh, hot and heavy, tightly enveloping my stomach, exerting pressure on it although she wasn't even squeezing – just holding me in place.

Automatically, I put my hands on each thigh to pry them apart. I heard Sally giggle at the feeble attempt of breaking this hold. I was clearly about to lose the game she thought we were playing. Lifting my head to look up at her I could only move it a bit till the back of my head bumped into her breasts. I craned my neck and turned up to her face but I could only get her breasts to push against my cheeks. Which was mostly the reason I kept trying to look up. She took both my hands in one of hers as easy as you and I pick up flowers and held them over my head. My arms pushed against her breasts, but she didn't seem to mind. Again, Sally had me at her mercy. She was tantalizingly slow as she put her free hand on my belly. I shivered and started to wiggle, as if that would get me out of her fleshy grip. Logically, that was out of the question as she held my hands tight, had her heavy arm on me and my legs lying under her punching bag-sized ones. I could barely move – and I loved every second of it. But I couldn't let her know that, so I grunted again. It's amazing how in those few minutes I've gotten used to just automatically emit an annoyed grunt instead of a sexual moan.
Her hand has worked its way in my shirt and I felt her bare skin on mine. I shuddered even though her touch was very warm and gentle. She adjusted her grip on my hands and my belly. Relaxing her thighs for a moment, shaking them, shaking me with them, finally bringing them back into position and default firmness.

"So, where were we? Oh, yeah..."

With no further ado she had pushed her fingers into my belly, making me laugh at the top of my voice again. For a second I started to jerk and kick around, but immediately the "Sally-press" put an end to it. It was painful how I had to endure this abuse, but then again I was having the most wonderful time as I was closer to her than I have ever been, even though I was shrieking with no end. She quickly put more pressure on me, contracting her arms and legs, putting me into actual physical discomfort. It hurt, but on the other hand, it was her muscles, her strength, directly on me. Inflating her body to smother me even more. Hugging me closer to her. It was bliss. A groan of pleasure came from my mouth, but it sounded like agony.

I don't know for how long the tickling went on, because all of the time I could only focus on the idea that this beautiful, freakishly strong girl was holding me. Again, I thought about how utterly erotic the whole scene must have looked: a guy - not a big guy, not a small guy - trapped the hold of a much bigger, muscular and obviously stronger girl, without being able to break free, him disappearing somewhere around her crotch area, being held and brought closer and closer to climax by her touch.
She stopped increasing the stress on my limbs and held the pressure there. At this exact level, which would be somewhat uncomfortable for anybody, it was orgasmic pleasure for me. My senses were heightened, as I wanted to remember every single microsecond of this experience. Her soft breathing I could hear as she held me easily but not totally without effort, the weight of her arm on my chest, the individual bulges that were pushing into me, her hand firmly gripping my wrists, each breast pressing from behind, with her two nipples occasionally brushing against the back of my head, both quads as they totally dwarfed my legs, squeezing me. A big squirt of precum wetted my underpants as I was at the point were any stimulation would probably make me explode.

Well, not literally, because my erection was pressing against one of her thighs and has been since she took me in her thigh-hug. But I was close. Somehow my cock got shifted in my underpants and it was pushed forward, so it produced a big, fat bulge on the front of my jeans. And it was all thanks to my magnificent sister, who could excite me like no fantasy or internet porn could. She didn't seem to notice, as she was busy with my upper body. Her thigh was hard, like I was pressing against a wall, although I can't imagine that would be a good substitute. I could actually feel it slightly contracting and relaxing with each of her movements, as her huge frame exaggerated everything about her. Involuntarily, I tried to sit up. I don't know why, at the time it felt like the thing to do. At first she held me back, pulling at my arms, letting me fight. She enjoyed my struggle to get away from her grip, I heard her laughing. When she let go of me I immediately leaned forward and put my hands on her thighs again, feeling the tight muscles. The surface was soft but with massive mounds of live meat pulsing right underneath. I let my palms go up and down the ridges of each muscle, feeling the perfect definition under her skin. I kept exploring the huge domes of warm flesh, letting my hand go downwards, feeling the walls of her inner thighs. Usually not the place you let your brother touch you.

The legs around me sprung to life and I quickly wedged a hand between each thigh and my body in a helpless attempt of holding them back. They had contracted as Sally had sat up and hugged me from the back again, immobilizing my upper body and my arms from the elbows up. I had become desperate to get away because I was so close to eruption. And, boy, what eruption that would be.
As her hand found its way into my shirt and teased me about the tickle-attack that was about to commence by softly stroking my skin, I knew I was in big trouble. I could sense that I was so close to cumming, I wouldn't be able to contain myself during the next minutes. In another pointless effort to get away before it was too late, I tried prying her legs apart. Looking back, it's clear to me that both my arms wouldn't stand a chance against one of her legs, especially as constricted as they were, but being locked in between them your perspective and judgement is somewhat distorted. However, in that moment I thought that with a good grip, all my force and the better angle by pulling her inner thighs apart rather than pushing them away I could slip out before she started to "punish" me again. Nope, no chance.

For what felt like the hundredth time that evening she tickled me again. Yes, my body started jerking, yes, I started laughing, yes, it hurt and felt good at the same time. I can't say that I was getting used to it, because every single time it felt like a glimpse of hell.
But I wasn't paying attention to that anymore, but to the orgasmic, mind-blowing sensations I felt in the crotch area. My stiff cock, standing as straight as possible in my denims, was grinding against her thigh repeatedly. We were constantly moving, as I was squirming to get free and her trying to hold me still. Her thighs flexing and relaxing, rubbing up and down, growing and growing more, all against the bulge in my pants. I gave off moans of "Ah, ah, ah" that she probably interpreted as laughs of "Ha, ha, ha".
I still had my hands on her legs, pushing them against the rock-hard masses that were compressing my body. Cords of solid muscles were thickening and hardening like a bunch of angry anacondas, holding their prey with no chance of escape. The way those bundles of strength were springing to life right before and all over me was an amazing feeling. She briefly tensed her legs, squeezing me more to which I responded with a loud grunt in between laughs. Mindlessly I started humping the big mass pressing against my loins. Up to that point I was wiggling and squirming to get out, pushing my crotch into her again and again, so the reflexive hump wasn't really a change.

At the same time my upper body was engulfed by two mighty arms, pressing my much smaller frame into hers. I felt two giant biceps pushing into my sides, hard and a little pumped from holding her kicking and jerking little brother still. One going round my chest, holding my shoulder, the other keeping my still just by its very presence, while alternately tickling and caressing my stomach. Removing one hand from her thighs, I wanted to pull my arm out of her hug. However, wherever I tried to move my arm, I bumped into unmovable skin. She noticed me having a go a getting out of her embrace but held me tight. I tried moving my relatively thin arms against the bulging masses of muscle but, of course, without a chance. Sally even slowed down her tickling to give me a shot at breaking free of the skin covered straight jacket. At first she just wouldn't move an inch, entertained by my show. Then she sort of demonstrated me the muscular prison I was in by flexing her biceps and forearms without cramping me more. I watched and felt them going from solid and large to absolutely rock hard and gargantuan, turning into steel against me, showing me exactly where I was. I pushed against her arms like you would when you try to get through a large group of people standing close and not letting you pass. Only this was much harder and wouldn't budge, more like trying to get through a forest made of iron. After some time she raised her arm and hugged me again, only this time under my armpit, letting my arm free. Instantly I put my hand on her biceps and pushed. I wasn't thinking clearly. I was clutching at straws.
Straws? I know this is only a figure of speech, but I think this is the worst comparison I have ever made. Sally's arm a straw. Pah!

My efforts, as weak as they appeared to her, made her giggle.

"Do you know, ...?"

I turned my head up to see her while she was talking. That meant rubbing the side of my face against the balls that were her tits. She quickly stuck her fingers into my belly again, stimulating me again to make my whole body go stiff. Actually, my body going stiff made me arch my back, pressing my head even more firmly against her breast. It was like a wonderful cushion, I never wanted to leave. Being mushed against her, I could feel her nipple through the fabric of her shirt at the side of my mouth. It was so dangerously close, I had to restrain myself from just sticking out my tongue and licking it, just feel the smallish bulge with the tip of my tongue. Before I could do anything stupid I quickly turned my head up. She was hunched over, looking down at me, smiling. God, she was beautiful.

"Do you have any idea how cute you look when you struggle?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. Lying there, so close to coming, I needed just one last, tiny bit of stimulation to push me over the edge. I didn't have to wait long:

"And how small you look?"

That did it. That simple, innocuous comment she made, absolutely without any patronizing or condescendence, was the last drop needed to make the dams break and let out a flood. And it certainly felt like a flood. Gazing up at her gorgeous face, my head pressed against her ample breasts, one hand on her jutting biceps, the other on her massive thigh, while being squeezed between her mammoth legs made me ejaculate like never before. Actually, I was amazed that I have been able to hold it for so long. Without knowing it, she had pushed all the right buttons in me to go off like a garden hose, drenching my underpants with my cum. Everything I had built up during that evening came out in big squirts, creating a mess down there. It was already the most intense orgasm I have ever experienced, but then she flexed her thighs. Apparently her grip on me had gotten a bit lose in the last minutes and she felt like she needed to readjust. So the two giant pythons around my waist pushed down on my throbbing cock, making me emit a loud grunt. My whole body went berserk from the overflow of pleasure in my brain, making me light headed. I reacted by first pushing back into her breasts, then shooting forward before being stopped by her titanic arm. Sally pulled me back into her tits and held me still easily, while her other arm worked its way back into my shirt.

"Where do you think you're going?" she giggled.

As her large hand started to tickle me once more on that fateful evening, my spurting became stronger, harder and faster, all thanks to her. Grunting and uttering random sounds during that time, I clutched her biceps hard, which made her think I was still trying to get away (an idea which, for obvious reasons, I had already given up). So she flexed her whole body and enveloped me even more in her rock hard cradle. I think that's where I sort of blacked out. I think, I'm not sure. I do remember losing track of time, going to a wonderful place where I could hear color and smell sound, feeling like I've gone to heaven for a second, but I never lost track of the sensation of her massive, hard flesh around me. The tough muscles of my sister, bringing me to my most powerful, most intense and best orgasm I have ever experienced up to that point.

When I came to, she was still tickling me. I wasn't wiggling as much as I did before, probably because all my energy had emptied into my pants. She sensed that I had given up on resisting her and stopped.

"What? You're already giving up? Did you have enough?"

I wanted to answer "Yes, please no more", but all I could muster was some vague mumbling. But she got the message, because she moved her thighs to put me on the floor and stood up. I was standing there, breathing hard, my knees feeling like they could collapse any second, while she was sitting there, trying to stifle a laugh. She was so cute, like a little girl. A big little girl.

"That was fun, little brother."

She stood up and placed herself directly in front of me, setting her breasts at the height of my face. Putting a hand on each of my shoulders, holding me up as if she knew I was throughly spent, she happily exclaimed:

"We should do this again!"

I turned my head and looked up to her face that was grinning down to me, just like it had been all evening. I smiled and jokingly said:

"Yeah, maybe. But then I'm the one holding *you* still."

She burst out laughing and went on to playfully hug me. I hugged her back, putting my hand on her broad back but without any erections forming. She had leaned forward to put her head on my shoulders, so my face wasn't pushed into her cleavage. Even though I just orgasmed, that could have brought me back up. Sally planted a gentle peck on my cheek and stood tall again.

"Good Night, Jake." she said and ruffled my hair.

"Good Night, Sally." I said as she left the room.

Offline JangoFitt5

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #6 on: September 07, 2019, 12:09:24 pm »
SALLY AND ME

CHAPTER 3 : My life (by nelek®gmx.at)



-„Haaah!"

I listened to the sounds coming from our basement, the sounds of Sally working out. The stairs to our home gym go down from our living room, so lying on our sofa is always the best place to observe her concert of groans and moans. There are the sharp „hiss"s when she breathes in, the loud „hah"s when she breathes out, the „ungh"s when she starts to struggling with the weight, the roaring „aaargh"s when she mobilizes her last energies to complete another rep, the exhausted „ahh"s when she can't and then, finally, there's the aggressive and annoyed bark she lets out when she fails on an exercise.

-„Haaah!"

I know it's pretty much beyond belief for anyone who has ever met Sally that there's anything in a gym she can't handle with ease. But seeing the amounts of weight she uses is enough to shut anybody up. It would seem ridiculous to watch her choose those gigantic dumbbells or load a bar with plate after plate if she wouldn't go on and move them about with no struggle at all. More weight than you and I could ever hope to handle only to loosen up. Just for a little pump she goes way past the maximum for many people I know. Sally exceeds the strongest guys in our school and probably in our whole city - simply to get warmed up.

-"H-haaah!"

Of course I was in the basement earlier to watch her show of pumping iron. I joined her workout to find her sitting upright on a bench pressing a barbell from her chest over her head. It was mesmerizing, watching her immense body contract and tighten under her shirt. Even though it was clearly an oversized one, it was completely filled by her enormous body, clinging to her skin by her sweat, showing off each and every contour of her physique. I headed straight for the stationary bike, as it was the only exercise I can do that somehow hides my growing cock. Sitting down and constantly moving my hips makes it less obvious; although Sally goes into a state of trance during her workouts anyway, ignoring most of what goes on around her.

-"Unnngh...hah!"

The thing about watching her work out is that I don't sport a boner all the time. When I enter the gym and see her flexing, be it during an exercise or in front of the mirror, I get hard. Obviously. But it doesn't take long for that to go away when I see the amazing amounts of weight she works out with. It's like my brain goes from "attraction" mode to "oh my fucking god" mode, where my erection is ranked behind being out of breath just from watching and muttering things like "holy shit". In this time I am able to spot her during bench presses or just generally be around her without any embarrassing bulges forming. Unfortunately, this only lasts until she takes a short break to do some posing in front of our floor-to-ceiling mirror or some stretching exercises. Then, my brain switches back and I have to get back on the bike.

-"Argh! Hah!"

This time I stayed for almost an hour before I had to excuse myself. I hopped into the shower, took care of my business and planted myself on our couch with today's paper to catch her grand finale before she gets ready for our cinema night. It's a tradition we started a couple of years ago: every other week or so we go to see a movie, followed by a bar where we talk for some time before coming home. The cinema and the drinks are on our parents, who in turn got the house for themselves. It's a win-win for everyone, not just because I get to be close to Sally (ever went to see a horror movie with a girl, taller than your average door and stronger than your average ox, gripping your hand in fear and huddling herself against you? I tell ya, it's not that bad) and our parents can do whatever they want to. I don't really want to think about it.

-"Aaargh … ahh."

Clang!

Mhm, the sound of a barbell going back on the rack. Sally's obviously finished her workout. I grabbed the newspaper again and read what was on tonight, with the intention of looking as nonchalant as possible to avoid arousing any suspicion as what I was really doing on that couch. See, just the sounds of her sculpting herself to even huger proportions usually make my inner eye show an X-rated movie starring her and a tiny bikini relaxing between sets by gliding her hands over the hard surface of the sweaty masterpiece that is her body, rewarding herself for the hard work she's done by letting her fingers find their way into her thong and pleasure this goddess until she erupts in one, big, loud, long, flexing climax that makes our entire house shudder in the roar that comes from her most inner core.

Man, with thoughts like that I should get a medal for not just taking my dick out right there in the living room and jack off devil-may-care. But, on the other hand, it's thoughts like that that made me incredibly attentive about even the most innocuous actions, as there is a little voice in my head that tells me that everything I do could give me away. I guess when you lust after your sister for a couple of years you get kind of paranoid about the most innocent things. Which is probably what has saved my ass over all these years, not revealing myself to her even though we spend a lot of time together and even though I've done some very risky acts this summer. I don't know what's gotten into me in the last couple of weeks and months, but I do know it has brought me one best orgasm of my entire life after another.

I heard the stairs creak as Sally made her way up to the ground floor. Adjusting the growing organ in my underpants I became perfectly presentable in just a matter of seconds while at the same time this way of carrying my goods prevents any embarrassing erections from showing. Another thing I've gotten good at. Turning away from the door I looked at the newspaper again, trying to get my mind to focus on the words printed there, but it was occupied in anticipation by the fantastic view I was about to be treated. From the corner of my eye I could see her head appearing, but I didn't move as part to of my best "No, I'm not insanely turned on by you"-impression. Of course I could still tell that she was still moving up the stairs, filling more and more of that narrow staircase (well, narrow for her) as she ascended to our living room, tilting her head slightly to get through under the low doorframe (well, low for her). As the huge mass that was her body entered my field of vision, I turned to her, watching her wait for me to move my feet away from the end of the couch and then letting herself drop onto it, before finally moving my legs back to where they where, only now lying on her gigantic thighs.

"Hey, Sal!"

Her face was soaking wet as several drops of fluid were running down the sides of it, glueing two strands of hair to her face. The rest was tied together in a ponytail revealing her neck, as wide as or maybe even wider than her jaw. Her t-shirt was drenched with perspiration, tainting it dark and making it stick to her where she sweated the most – her chest, shoulders and armpits. Every bit of skin that wasn't covered by fabric was shining with moisture, giving her the soft and feminine appearance of a porcelain puppet. At the same time her physique, almost overflowing her seat with its hugeness, made her look like the illegitimate love child of a tank and a bull.
She was breathing heavily, so it took her a couple of seconds to respond.

"Hey, little bro! Did you find anything?"

Again, I looked at the paper, concentrating hard on the words, as her body odor started to fill the room. The scent was faint, but getting stronger each passing second. I read her a few titles while she took her water bottle and gulped down its remaining content. As she shook it to get out the last drops, a ball of a bicep bulged out from her arm and excitedly jumped up and down with every little shake of her hand. I watched as she stuck out her tongue to the bottle neck to and licked it, catching every last bit of the precious fluid, wishing she would do that do me. Sally leaned her head back and closed her eyes, taking a deep, deep breath. My gaze, as it had become, went down to her arms, and how they filled her sleeves. Usually there was a bit of space left but I knew that day was her biceps and shoulders day, which was why her poor shirt was stretched around her unflexed body. Her traps, two logs covered in soft skin, ending just above her soccer ball-sized shoulders that made her spread out wide and coming very close to me.

Switching between movie titles and my heartstoppingly big sister, I kept reading while glancing at her mammoth biceps. Even though her arms were relaxed, the fact that they were bent by letting them rest on the armrest and my legs respectively made them jut out to a size that combined with her triceps could easily destroy her sleeves with a single flex if she wanted to. Diverting my eyes from this too-hot-to-handle sight I tried to figure out what was the last thing I read out to her, which was harder than it sounds because the image of her biceps has burned into my eyes. Everywhere I looked, there it was, hot and throbbing. I shook my head and aimed my attention as well as I could back on the paper, struggling to continue.

"But?"

What? What "but"? Sally was looking at me, awaiting the end of my last sentence. I had no idea what I had said before. For a moment I felt panic bubbling up in me, but then my ninja-samurai-like methods of covering my tracks kicked in and I answered:

"But … I … am not keen on any of this movies, so you pick one."

Man, I'm good.

Still, I needed to cool down. If I was going to spend the evening with her I couldn't get all excited before we even left the house. So I got up and headed for the kitchen.

"You want something to drink, sis? Some water, orange juice?"

-"Oh, yes, thank you! Some juice, please." I knew she'd take that. She loves orange juice.

Before I walked though the door I looked back and saw that Sally has gotten up, following me and therefore ruining my plan of calming down away from her. While I held the door open she picked up the newspaper and walked towards me while reading, becoming larger and larger with each step. Her shirt, still wet and wandering up her arms as her biceps push the sleeves back, hung down from her like a curtain.

I mean, everything she wears is usually skintight as she likes to flaunt her amazing body. But, as one can imagine, it's hard for her to find clothes that fit. So about maybe two years ago, she started shopping in the men's department since she had outgrown most girls' clothes by the age of sixteen. It does work a lot better than it sounds, because Sally's got a talent for sewing, because she has an exquisite sense for fashion, colors and patterns and also because she lets me create designs based on pictures of girls' clothes' she likes, which she then takes to a copy shop to have them print on a shirt. Then, she alters them to fit her voluptuous physique, namely her narrow waist, thus creating her very own clothing line. A very sexy clothing line, to say the least. Even the production is exciting to watch, with that behemoth of a girl sitting at her sewing-machine, delicately handling those shirts and trousers in an expert manner, as a stark contrast to her monstrous body and hulking muscles jutting out with every slight move. She doesn't grow through that trouble for her gym clothes, which is why the oversized shirts she uses fit snugly around her arms, shoulders and back, but seem extremely loose around her trim belly.

Sally was still moving towards me, growing bigger as she came closer to me until she reached her full size with her breasts about the height of my face, her shoulders higher than my eye level and her biceps right under my nose. When she walked by me, flashing me her beautiful smile as a thank you for holding the door, I took a deep breath and sucked in the magnificent stink she extruded. That smell has always got me a bit light-headed, and I had a short vision of me leaning forward, sticking out my tongue and licking that biceps as it floated past me. Immediately I cleared my head and followed the wall of thick flesh that was her back into the kitchen, keeping myself close to the warm, damp fabric and the scent that she gave off.

She told me that none of the films really interested her, while I took a carton of orange juice out of the freezer and moved over to the cupboard and got us two glasses. Putting them down next to where Sally left the newspaper, I started filling both, while doing my best not to look at her leaning against a counter or letting her see me inhaling deeply to get as much of her body odor as possible. My cock, reacting to the pheromonal stimulation, tried expanding but was luckily tucked safely in my underpants, able to thicken, but not to point outwards. It's okay as long as I don't cross my legs.

"Thanks" she said, grabbed her glass and started to guzzle, emptying most of it in a couple of swallows. Then she held it to her forehead to cool herself down a little. With her eyes closed she said

"Mhm, that feel so good..."

I saw her putting it to her cheeks and "mhm"-ing again, so I quickly snatched the paper and stood next to the window, pretending to go somewhere where there's better light to read while I just wanted an excuse to turn my back to her. I could hear her softly going "oh" and "ah", as she pressed the cold container against parts of her head and chest. Suppressing lecherous thoughts of her I grasped the edge of the work plate with my hands to steady myself and stared straight down at the words, my refuge from getting over-sexy-ed. I wanted her to stop.

"So, how was your workout?" I asked, while stepping to the side and leaning against the wall, sipping my orange juice. Okay, not the best subject to talk about when I wanted to get my mind on something else than her body, but there was nothing else on my mind.

-"It was good - surprisingly. Didn't think I would have much energy today, since I hit the sack quite late." she said with a smirk, referring to our episode of late-night tickling. "But I still got a good pump, don't you think?"

She raised one hand and apparently wanted to flex her biceps, but before I could respond she had lowered it again and motioned me to wait as if she thought of something.

-"Just a sec."

Sally put her glass down, crossed her arms before her bosom and grasped the front of her t-shirt. Arching her back she pushed her breasts out, seemingly in my face even though she was standing a couple of feet away. Slowly she began to peel off her shirt, lifting it higher and higher to uncover more of her wonderful body. I licked my lips as row after row of a marvelous set of abs appeared, each one the size and thickness of a bar of soap. Her skin was coated in a light sheen of sweat, giving it an ethereal glow and accentuating every single part of her glistening body. She reached her tits to reveal those supreme treasures trapped and poorly contained in a sports bra that looked like it had gotten too small for her a long time ago. Those two balls were mushed together until her arms wandered over her head, covering her face and giving me the chance to swallow hard; looking forward to see her struggle now that she's reached the tight fitting parts. The dampness of the shirt increased the difficulty of not simply tearing the shirt apart (I've seen it happen) as it reluctantly let itself be unglued from her back and breasts.

Then, with her arms stretched over her head, she pulled one last time to get the shirt off, making it sail into the air, hoisted like a flag. She stood there for a second before dumping it on the countertop. Then she put her fists on her hips, revealing her glorious totality, every lustrous bulge being brought to prominence even though she was just standing there. All I could see was her immense body, her unreasonable size that simultaneously screamed power and sensual femininity. Sally's mouth widened as if in realization of the face that she's perfection in person, letting her dimples frame her beautiful smile.

Still standing there with her arms akimbo, so tall, so broad, so wide, literally expanding in every direction. She was right the day before when she said that I looked small; anybody does next to her. I looked up at her and nodded in approval of the effort and achievement she was so proud of. Even though I was majorly erect, my face only expressed compliments, not lust.

And even though I knew what was gonna happen next, I was still not prepared for the sight.

She smiled and lifted one arm for a biceps flex. The ball grew while she raised it to her shoulder height, bulging out towards the sky, showing a pulsing vein running over it. Slowly bending her arm, she laboriously tightened it into a mass the size of a bowling ball with a baseball sitting on top. She turned her head and looked down at the muscle she was presenting me. It seemed like her biceps was trying to flee from her triceps, as separated and defined the two blocks of meat were. Her lat spread out, forming a curve that connected her massive arm to her equally impressing torso while her now exposed armpit almost drowned me in her body odor. I inhaled deeply, taking in the rich musk, the almost bittersweet smell of her natural perfume, the compelling pheromones she oozed out just for me, an irresistible potion to drive a man wild. It was the taste of incredible power, hard muscle and raw sex; things that have always gone hand in hand for me.

Her teeth gritted as she proudly held the pose for my admiration, but soon gave way for a big smile the second she saw my awe. She turned back to her arm, seemingly studying it, examining the chunk of flesh with the slightly throbbing vein on top of it. The sharp contour of her bicep grew a little more as she flexed a bit harder, moving her forearm a tad higher to get out another quarter-inch of flesh. Alternately straightening and bending her arm, lengthening her biceps and pushing it back up she pumped this block of hard tissue a few times before slowly bringing it back into position, letting out a small grunt of "mmph" as she tightened it. Already it was bigger than anything I had ever seen, let alone in person, up close, while getting entranced by her bodily scents.

With her left hand on her right biceps touching the impenetrable tissue she said:

-"Yeah, that is a good pump. You wanna feel it?"

I nearly choked on my orange juice. I would have loved to but I decided to keep up my facade.

"No, thank you, Sal. I'm good." I laughed sarcastically "You're all sweaty and, frankly, you stink like hell."

Ah, the best disguise one can have: the annoying little brother.

-"Oh, come on, don't be like that. I just wanna show you my how hard I've worked."

Hell, I must be the luckiest guy in the world. There she was, the ultimate girl from my fantasies, asking me to feel her up. It wouldn't be realistic to refuse any more, given the fact I've humored her and felt her body many times before.

"Well, if you insist. I guess I can wash my hands later."

Taking another sip from my juice, I put down the glass and stepped towards her, unknowing that she too stepped towards me at the same time, making me stand much closer to her than I intended. With her shining body, her protruding breasts and her fragrant pit this near to my face I could feel myself getting overwhelmed in a wave of forbidden lust. Uncomfortably gaping up at her – when you're a skinny little brother standing only inches away from you gargantuan sister, knowing there's more strength in her little finger than in your entire body, it's okay to appear a bit uncomfortable – I raised my hand towards her arm, still up in that alluring pose.

Seeing that I'd have to move my hand higher than my eye level to reach it, she changed her posture: bending her upper body sideways to lower her biceps she held it right before my face, steadying herself by extending one leg. Her arm was now at a 45° angle to the floor, its peak hovering right under my nose.

Beaming with pride, she was standing there watching my hand approach her offerings, almost moving like in slow-motion. I touched the warm ball with my fingertips, lightly squeezing it. Obviously it didn't budge, not the slightest bit. I tried harder, pushing my fingers into it, its surface slightly slippery from the layer of moisture covering it. It felt like I was trying to dent a steel ball covered in soft skin. We've done this often enough, me testing her development by feeling it, so I knew that petting her arm a bit wasn't enough for her. Still, I looked up at her face in a "that feels really hard, as I expected, sis"-way, hoping she would be satisfied with my wordless compliment. She looked back at me and smiled me her "No, really, you gotta feel it"-smile.

So I put my palm on the huge thing in front of me, enjoying my cock growing what felt like another inch in my pants. My hand grasped the chunk of beef, trying to dig into it. I felt the incredible mass, its hardness as my fingers moved over every small bulge on that one big bulge. You don't know how hard an arm - a girl's arm even - can get until you're actually feeling one. Gliding over the pulsating skin, I took every chance to poke the solid balloon to confirm the obvious steeliness. She started rotating her fist, making the ball under my hands dance up and down, left and right.

God, she didn't know what she was doing to me. She is so innocent, so oblivious. For her, it is about sculpting the perfect body, an aesthetic masterpiece of outstanding muscularity. About being stronger than several men, defying the idea of a petite girl. About defeating one's limits again and again to achieve a seemingly impossible to reach goals. And about keeping to set new, unbelievable marks to accomplish.
She's done all that, and more. But to show willpower, not to become a lust object. Demonstrate strength, not being fuel for fetishes. To be the living and breathing trophy of what man can do and not to please some weirdo with a thing for muscly ladies.

She doesn't think about how exactly these things make her absolute sex in human form for some people. That her tall, huge, brawny and powerful body make some men go crazy with lust.

And that her brother is one of them.

I retreated my hand while Sally relaxed her arm and put it on her hips again, standing tall again.

-"Well?"

Her grin showed me that she already knew the answer.

"Hard as a rock, Sal."

-"Wasn't expecting anything else." she joked. "Wanna feel the other one?" she asked while moving her other arm. Instead of raising it to shoulder height like before she leaned forward a bit and held her forearm parallel to the floor, right in front of her stomach, like half of a most-muscular pose. Again, a human skin-colored anaconda was put almost right in my face, this time with her whole physique towering over me, making the sight so much more intimidating. A massive peak grew out of her arm, making it too big to wrap my hands around it. Although I was invited to try, I knew that for the sake of my disguise I shouldn't.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm sure it's just as mutated as the other one."

She laughed and stood fully erect again.

-"Okay, then. I am now going to hit the shower, while you pick a movie, okay?"

I nodded and turned to the newspaper lying on the work plate, while she started to walk out of the kitchen. Reading the film titles, I noticed her sweat-soaked shirt still placed next to the paper. I was hoping she would forget and leave it there, so that I could have some alone time drinking her nectar out of it, but my hopes were brushed away as she hopped back through the door, picked it up and went upstairs.

As soon as I heard her close the bathroom door I let out a long and loud moan, right there in the middle of the kitchen. Pressing my crotch against the counter I brought up my fingers to my face, sucking the smell from it, filling my nostrils. Moving away from the window I opened my pants and slid my other hand in there, took my cock and started stroking it, lubricated by the small puddle of precum I've produced. My fingers found their way into my mouth, making me lap the sensual juices still sticking to them while imagining Sally's fabulous body under the running shower. I took my dick out of my trousers, leaned against a wall and started jerking it. Standing there, fully erect, my pants around my knees, panting heavily, I jacked off like there was no tomorrow. Images of her, testing the hardness of her huge arms, licking them to taste the salty sweat and letting her tongue run down from her peaked biceps to her deep armpit flooded my brain as I was reaching climax. Frantically I grabbed a glass and held it over my penis, just in time for me to unload myself. An intense roar left my mouth as I shot spurt after spurt of my semen into it.

After I was done squirting, I realized that I just masturbated in our kitchen. I looked around to check if any of my come had gone anywhere it shouldn't while wiping my dick with a napkin. Lifting the glass to my eyes, I saw the milky globs of my jizz slowly disappearing into the orange juice. This was the one Sally has drunk out of just a couple of minutes ago. A disgusting thought entered my head: what if I left it here and let her drink it when she comes back from the shower? I was appalled by myself while at the same time the idea of her drinking my cum excited me. Maybe she'd like the taste and want more. And since this Sally we're talking about, as short glimpse at her body would be enough for me to give her as much of it as she wants. As interesting as it was, I quickly discarded the idea and went on to thoroughly wash the glass before putting it into the dishwasher.

Sipping the last remainders of her scent I went back into the living room and plopped down on the couch again. When has it come so far that I jack off in our kitchen? I've been lusting after my big sister for several years and have always prided myself with absolute discretion. Reacting adequately to the incestuous desire I have in me, by keeping it secret, not letting any evidence or even hints behind. Like, when a similar thing happened a week or so before that. Sally came from her training, sweating like she worked out in hell and wanted me to feel the pump she got in her arms. Of course, being a good brother I obliged and felt them. And as every good brother would after fondling his sister's hot, moist, perspiring body for his own perverted urges I waited till she went to the bathroom, waited until after I heard her lock the door and only then shut myself in our first floor toilet to do my business. Now, I can't even wait to leave the kitchen.

But that's love for you, isn't it? Yes, it probably looks like I only lust for her body, being jack-off-material that conveniently lives in the room opposite of mine, but I do truly love her. Her gentleness and being so down-to-earth even though she is a goddess, her maturity and intelligence even though she is a muscle beast, her sense of humor and the smile she's sporting all the time. I think I could control myself better if I had only the hots but no real feeling for her, but the fact is I am madly in love with her. In love with everything she is and everything she does, even the things I hate about her. Like when she comes into my room without knocking. It's so rude and annoying especially as I have to be extra careful of what I do in there because of that. Or when she thinks nobody's looking she picks her nose and – if she's got nothing to wipe it on – eats it. This grosses the hell out of me, but I'm still in love. I can't say it often enough. I love her. I love Sally.

We always had a great brother-sister relationship (including the occasional fighting and teasing, naturally), ever since we were children. Before our teens, I was slightly bigger than her, although not much, as she was always quite tall and athletic for her age. Then, at 13, when she started working out and growing (and, boy, did she grow), her gracious demeanor blossomed along with her body, making her such a desirable person, physically as well as mentally.

We were always close for siblings, don't ask me why. I mean I know why we've grown so close in the last couple of years. A large part of the reason for that is simply my attraction to her, trying to spend as much time with her as possible. Which is also why my brotherly love turned into real feelings, because that's what happens when the person you are the closest to in the world also happens to be the ultimate fulfillment of all of your sexual fantasies and you spend every day with her. Also, it can't help if that person has a tendency to be quite physical.

Sally is always very personal with people, like greeting them with a peck on the cheek or hugging them close, sometimes tickling them just for fun. Saying hello or goodbye to her is never just a handshake or a pat on the back, it's always the full round of embraces, kisses and at least ruffling one's hair. For me and my longing for her body, this is nothing to complain about. In fact, as her brother, I get more than my fair share of bodily contacts with her. Like when she realized how strong she had become a couple of years ago, she started to pick me up and carry me around the house. At first it was fun for both of us, but after some time I had to ask her to stop. I told her I get dizzy from being lifted and shaken around, but the truth was that I was getting hard in her arms and was afraid it might poke her. However, this has not stopped her from draping a heavy arm over my shoulders every time she stands next to me or leaning down and kissing me on my forehead to emphasize her height or hugging me tightly to her immense body without letting me go or taking me between her mighty legs and squeeze me for her own amusement. You know, the usual big sister teasing.

Or, just like what happened last week. It was a boring, rainy afternoon and we were hanging around in my room, killing time. I was doing stuff on facebook while Sally was lying on my bed, reading one of my magazines. An art magazine, not whatever you were thinking. In between chatting with a few friends who didn't go on holiday that summer I kept glancing at her, enjoying the view of the statuesque beauty just a couple of feet away. She took up a lot of the bed's breadth, leaving only very little room for a second person. Her t-shirt ended about halfway down her deltoids, covering only a small part of the balls she had for shoulders. She had shortened the sleeves once after she tore them open when trying to push her arms through. Though not flexed, they bulged outwards, creating a mass of delicious meat before my eyes, slightly twitching every time she turned a page.

While I was thinking of a way of secretly pointing my webcam at her – wanting to film the way she was being so sexy even though not doing anything - I saw her stirring and grimacing as if she was uncomfortable. She sat up, arching her back forward, extending her arms straight, pushing her sizable triceps out and her breasts together, before pulling her elbows to her sides, biceps swelling to unreal proportions as she stretched her back, thrusting her heavy bosom out, making it press tightly against her shirt. Raising her long arms in the air over her head, she bent her upper body to one side, then to the other, letting the fabric on her abs go up one muscular row after another. She noticed me staring at her and stopped her show, straightening her shirt.

-"I guess I slept in a weird position tonight. My back's been tense all day."

I watched her doing a few more stretching exercises, trying to get the ache out. You know, I am in fact able to look at her without immediately sporting an erection, but to have her writhing and twisting her herculean body, parts of her expanding and exploding, softly moaning as her strong hands kneaded her shoulders and everything they could reach, all that right in front of me, in my bed, can do a number on me. Which could explain what happened next.

"Want me to massage you?"

No idea where that came from. I've massaged her before, but I've never suggested it. I was afraid she might think something of my offer but she readily accepted and laid down on her stomach, inviting me to go aboard her aircraft-carrier-sized back. Kneeling down, my skinny calves on either side of her immense thighs, I leaned my butt against hers to steady myself. I surveyed the vast expanse of fabric-covered concrete, looking big enough for a plane to land on and adjusted my growing member. This time I didn't push down to lodge it between my legs – as it could be pressing against her backside when I sit on it – but stashed it sort of sideways, letting my belt hold it. Sally arranged the cushion and brushed her hair out of the way, giving me a quick demonstration of how even the most subtle and mundane movements make the bulges on her arms and back jut out. She laid her head on the pillow, closing her eyes and let out a breath.

Laying my hands on the warm fabric covering her back I was amazed again at how much body heat she produced. No wonder that on a rather cool day like that she wore a top not even covering her arms or reaching her cut-off pants. Moving from the middle of the field in front of me I let my palms glide up, over the the knobs of her beefy back, to her shoulders. I grabbed the chunks of flesh she had for traps and squeezed them while my thumbs dug into the back of her neck. She moaned, quietly, barely loud enough for me to hear it, but enough so I knew I had hit a tense spot. My fingers grasped those two logs harder, digging my fingers in and pressing the balls of my hands into them while my thumbs moved in a circular motion. Rhythmically contracting and relaxing my hands I  continued until I could feel her gradually loosen up while her breathing slowed a bit.

My hands slowly wandered sideways, away from her neck but still massaging each of her protruding traps. Even though she wasn't tightening those muscles, they were still firm blocks of tissue, feeling near iron-like under my touch. I loved the sensation of them completely filling my hand, even overflowing them. They were thick, round pipes connecting her ball-shaped and -sized shoulders to her broad, bull-like neck, almost ridiculing anyone's effort to build an equally imposing body like the one I had right under me.

Going south, slowly fingering my way towards the middle of her back, right in between where her shoulder blades would be, if they weren't buried under inches of meat. Pushing my hands into it, I felt my erection ooze a bit of a very familiar liquid after it had been rebelling against my belt for a couple of minutes now. It occurred to me that a naughty fantasy of mine starts out with the exact same situation as I was in right now. Naturally, there were a few differences. For instance, in my dream it's Sally who asks for a massage rather than me suggesting it. Also, she's just coming from her workout, having her body coated in a layer of scented moisture, taking her shirt off to cool herself, laying down in my bed, personally lifting me up and placing me on her back, letting me dig into the wavy land that is her naked skin, asking me to remove excess sweat with my tongue, taking off her bra to give me, as she puts it, "full access" before she eventually turns on her back and wants me to do her front as well. I usually don't last for much longer than this part, but if I am able to control myself, it would end with me on my back and her alternating between doing my front and flexing for me while being impaled on my hard cock.

Back in the real world and properly turned on right now, I gave in to the temptation of testing her hardness and briskly pressed on the mass in front of me. Of course it only budged the tiniest bit, so I tried again, harder. The solid material resisted any attempts to get dented, so I moved forward and pushed my arms down on the firm space spread out for my pleasure. I kept pushing in a rhythmical fashion, giving the appearance of a rather strong massage, while I was just servicing my fetish for strong female bodies using the strongest female body I knew. To put in more of my body weight I lifted my behind in the air and leaned forward, thrusting my hands deeper into her. Repeating the motion while slowly moving over the field, I managed to get out a slight moan from Sally. Now I knew I was doing it right.

I licked my lips as I noticed that my mouth had been wide open in a sort dry-drool/silent-groan kind of way. My pelvis moved around aimlessly, bucking, humping nothing but thin air. I kept on handling the tense area on her back, with not even close to all of my strength, but with significantly more power than I would massage any regular person. With my hands more than just rubbing her back, almost leaving imprints, my face contorted in grimaces trying to give the girl of my dreams the massage of a lifetime. Well, as long as it's in my power, at least. Sally's increased "mhm"s and "ah"s as well as her directions to the exact spots where the now released tension was the worst made me work the dense muscle harder, determined to erase any of her pain. For minutes I patted her back, caressed it, stroked it, rubbed, kneaded, pressed and pushed -

"Beepbeepbeep!"

Both Sally and me were deep in the moment, her being utterly relaxed and me being utterly concentrated, when the loud ring of my cell phone startled the two of us. It was a simple text message that made her shake involuntarily, making me sitting on top of it feel like in a short earthquake. We were looking over to the table where the phone was lying, still dumbfounded for a second, then Sally started to sit up. She propped her body on her arms, pushing herself and me up with it, making me land on her tensed ass. A mountain of a body with back like a ski slope rose in front of me, making me crane my neck to see its peak.
I climbed off her and stood on the floor, watching her majestic shape reach its full size only inches away from me. With her eyes closed, she gave off a long, satisfied "mmmh" and let her arms wander up into the air, arching her back. That pushed her breasts out so much that I tilted my head to avoid contact with them, even though she wasn't standing close enough for that to happen. Her whole physique is so huge, she looks like she fills out any room, either literally or just by an amazing optical illusion. Towering over you with broader legs, arms shoulders and back, there seems to be no evading her. She dropped her arms and stood relaxed again.

-"Jake, you've got magical hands. My back feels as good as new. Thank you."

That was one of the moments I'm living for. Being close to her so I can appreciate her immense beauty while making her feel good at the same time. So far I've been doing a good job, I guess. Since that massage last week she has asked me for another one twice. Once I refused, but the other time I indulged myself. Oh yes, indulge I did. I mean, as long as I'm doing something nice to her, there's no reason I shouldn't be able to enjoy myself.

Just like with the cinema. I took the paper and looked for a movie she would like, wanting to make this evening as nice as possible for her. A couple of minutes later Sally came bouncing down from the stairs, dried and dressed in a very casual but sexy manner. A blouse over a t-shirt, both not skin-tight but still tailored to reveal every single one of her gorgeous curves underneath.
I told you she's good at that. I got up from the couch and started walking towards the hall where Sally was already putting on her coat and shoes.

-"Aw, crap, it's raining." she said while she looked out the front door. Grabbing an umbrella while I got dressed she stepped outside and opened it up, standing under it and waiting for me. When I was done, she extended her arm and put it round my back, pulling me close to her as to protect me from the pouring rain. Walking down the road with her heavy arm on my shoulders, feeling her wonderful scent of soap and magnolias, I thought to myself -

My life's not bad.

Offline JangoFitt5

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #7 on: September 09, 2019, 01:53:15 pm »
SALLY AND ME
by nelek

Chapter 4 : Skeletons in the closet



It was nothing special, nothing that hasn't happened in this house several times before. Nothing to get too excited about. When you're living with a huge muscle monster of a sister under one roof, things like that occur.

I was headed for a friend who I was going to spend the afternoon with, hanging around and such. Walking downstairs I texted him that I would be at his place soon, when at the same time Sally was coming upstairs. She had just finished her daily workout, wiping the glistening sweat from her face with the somewhat dry lower part of her shirt. When we noticed each other we tried making room, but you know what that's like: every time one moved to the right, the other would too, then both would move left, again blocking the other, etc. Within a few seconds we were standing right in front of each other. Well, almost: even though I was two steps above her, my eyes were barely an inch higher than hers. Once again I was dumbfounded by her unnaturally tall stature. But this position gave me a view of her body from above, something I don't get to see very often. Normally, she towers over my by more than a foot, so I'm more used to looking up to her beautiful face, rather than have it at the same height as mine.

Her skin was shimmering from the light coating of moisture. She was still breathing a bit heavily as her mouth and nose emitted warm air in short bursts towards me. Her faint odor was slowly engulfing me, gently bathing me in her sensuous pheromones. Wet strands of silky hair were hanging over her eyes and I had to restrain myself from reaching out and brushing them away. A light blue t-shirt wrapped tightly around shoulders that blocked most of the stairway with their sheer girth, flowing into sleeves that tightly hugged enormous upper arms. Each one more than powerful enough to push me to the side like nothing if she wanted to. Bulging shapes of iron flesh formed exciting lumps and bumps all over her with erotic musculature writhing under her shirt. Every part of her body on her top half - be it her biceps, the balls that were her deltoids or her thick pectorals - was showing its size and definition despite being covered by damp fabric. It clung snugly to her firm breasts, tracing the curves to her pointed nipples before letting itself hang loose from her bosom like a drapery or a veil. Her deep breaths made her chest inflate, expanding slowly to even greater dimensions before going back to it's normally huge size.

I noticed the very familiar sensation in me was going to direct my blood to my crotch area very soon, even though the whole scene has happened in a second. We were standing there, looking each other in the eye, then we started to move at the same time.

"So..."

-"Well..."

Again we both moved to the right and, again, we both instinctively tried to move left immediately, with very much the same effect. Normally, two people in this situation would agree to which side each either would turn to get through, but Sally's no ordinary girl. She snickered and rolled her eyes in mock annoyance.

-"Okay, this is getting ridiculous."

With that she extended her large hands and put one on each of my sides, holding me secured. In a flash I looked down to see what she was up to, but it was already too late. Her strong fingers had wrapped tightly around my waist, not letting me go, holding me like you would when you pick up a toddler. Before I could protest her mighty arms sprung to life, quickly ballooning to humongous proportions as they tensed to hoist me into the air, letting me dangle helplessly.

"Whoa! What the-"

Her wide grin showed not only that she was amused by my mild shock but also that she was lifting me up without any strain or effort. My pelvis was locked between her palms, holding me steadily in front of her. I was about a foot above the ground, enjoying her firm touch while trying to find some balance. It wasn't easy because she was moving sideways and pulling me closer to her at the same time. This made my upper body sway back and forth more than I would have been comfortable with, so I extended a hand towards the wall to steady myself. Or, at least that was what I was trying to do when she suddenly started going up first one, then two steps while turning around to switch our positions. With this unexpected rocking my torso completely lost all balance and I fell forward, landing on her prodigious biceps with my hands.

Oh my fuck, the feeling was unbelievable. I expected something hard but her upper arms in action defied any description of hardness, they outclassed any conception of solid muscle. Strangely enough they were actually covered by her sleeves, even though their sheer mass should shove them right back, exposing blemish-free skin for everyone's delight. The fabric - moist from her bodily fluids that just pour out during her workout - was soft but could not deny the steeliness of the tissue underneath it. Dense flesh bulged outward to massive proportions, forming a salacious hunk of hard, sensual shapes. My palms were lying flat on these rocklike, oversized blocks my sister could proudly call her own, not being able to enclose them in the least. Dwarfed by the vast chunks that throbbed and pulsed lively underneath my hands I felt the curves of her copious meat. Two round balls of what must have been iron pushed against my fingers as they tensed to hold my entire body weight aloft, making the vein running over the length of her biceps pulsate against them.
My weight wasn't even near her limits as I have seen her bench and curl much heavier dumbbells with ease, just for warm-ups, yet her gigantic arms still grew and swelled to an even more unbelievable size. I couldn't even begin to make a dent in the alluring flesh I was touching, even if I tried. Even though I was in fear of being discovered for what I was really getting out of this experience, I grasped and clutched these orgasmic offerings, reveling in the full knowledge that my comparably meager power would never even press in Sally's powerful, muscle-packed limb. I looked at my outstretched fingers and the immensely arousing look of flesh pouring out between them. With one hand each around those bulging chunks of delicious beef I never wanted her to put me down again. It wouldn't even be impossible, as her immense strength could probably hold me like this forever.

The ride ended about a year too soon as Sally reached the step I was standing on just a moment ago and started to set me down gently. As she lowered my body down, my hands slowly slid over the mountain range that made up her bi's and tri's to her thick and strongly corded forearms. She had to bend over so her large form would reach all the way down two where she stood before, now setting me two steps lower than her. While she was putting me down, her protruding breasts brushed my chest, making her her hard nipples tenderly pierce and rub against me while I felt her soft bosom softly press into my body, slightly mushed as she held us together. It was only a moment, a split-second, but enough for me to feel and enjoy it. Sally's towering figure stood tall again, placing my face at the level of her belly, concealed by her oversized shirt. My vision was captivated by her colossal upper legs; swelling thighs that made her supposedly oversized sweat pants bulge out to imposing masses. A narrow waist with a fantastic set of abdominals was unfortunately veiled by her baggy shirt, that soon started to wrap around expanding and thickening wings before disappearing into her moist armpits. Her physique looked like it filled the stairway from wall to wall with those wide shoulders and tremendous arms, pressing any person standing next to her against it very uncomfortably. My eyes trailed over her magnificent curves all the way up to her face, now more than two feet above mine. She was looking down at me, a mere dwarf in front of her, a giant.

-"I should always just do that. Would save a lot of time." she grinned. Pointing to my backpack she asked "Where are you headed, then?"

"Oh, you know, me and Matt are gonna hang out for the afternoon."

-"Cool. I'm going out too, later, meeting with Jess and some others, so tell mom and dad I'll be a bit late for dinner, okay?"

I nodded as she turned around, leaving me there to watch her broad back go up the stairs.

Knees slightly wobbly I made my way to the hall and leaned against the wall with one shoulder. I started panting as I remembered the feel of steely meat against my lucky palms as I was held in her beautiful arms. These thoughts stimulated me as well as the half-hard erection I rubbed through my pants. Turning my back to the wall both hands shot up to my face, covering my mouth and nose. I was licking one while smelling the other in hopes of getting some of her nectar and scents off them, but they had already dried. I realized I shouldn't be doing this in the hallway and, amazingly, I was able to put my hands down and just wait for Sally to go take a shower. Slowly, my boner was going soft, relaxing in my underpants. With every inch it shrunk back, I grew more and more bothered from the aborted orgasm until I finally smacked my hands against the wall angrily and just stood there.

From upstairs I could hear her walk to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

This is so frustrating: living with the girl of your dreams, someone who can turn you on like a switch and not being able to do anything but masturbate in secret to fantasies of her. Knowing that I can't get anything out of episodes like this but more jack-off material is unimaginably disheartening, I tell you. Of course, I could go to the downstairs toilet and lock myself in there for some fun, and it would be great, but I wasn't really in the mood anymore. Still felt the longing in my groins though.

And it didn't help when I felt my cell vibrating against my limp but still overly sensitive cock, ringing with a text message. It was from Matt, the friend I was going to hang out with:


hey jake. im runnin
a bit late. sry. Im
gonna call u when I
get home. cya matt


Great, now I had to wait before I could get out of there and distract myself. Putting my cell back into my pocket I walked towards the living room to, I don't know, maybe watch some TV even though I didn't feel like it. I didn't feel like doing anything, having been denied cumming just moments ago. But I still wanted it, desired it, lusted for it and for my voluptuous, magnificent sister. I knew what I had to do. Putting my backpack down, I turned around walked back up the steps, headed for her room.
At the top of the stairs I listened. The only sounds were coming muffled from the bathroom. Checking if the door was really locked I briskly went over and tried to open it, immediately slamming into it.

-"There's someone in here!"

Yeah, I knew that.

"Sorry, sis!"

Perfect. And from the sound of it she was busy doing number two, so it could take a while until she starts her shower. I retreated from the bath and walked to her room, standing in front of her half open door. I've been in there a million times at least, not even counting the times no one knows about. Usually I do this when she's not at home, but this time – like so many before – I was driven by lust. I demanded satisfaction! Anyway, if she would come out of the bath unexpectedly, I could always claim that I was looking for our cordless phone. Like a secret agent on a mission, I pushed the door completely open and had a quick look around the room before quietly stepping into it, closing the door behind me. The room was filled with my sister's very strong and familiar aroma, making me take a deep, deep breath of enjoyment.

A large window made up most of the wall on my left, providing ample light for the room and the desk that stretched from there to the corner. Right next to the desk were some large dumbbells lying around, much larger than the heaviest ones I can lift in our basement gym. She took them to her room once when she realized that she's the only one in our family who can use them, although the ones she uses for her workout – the "heavy ones, as she calls them – are still in our gym. Several posters of different bands decorated the wall opposite me that lead to her closet just around the corner. Next to it was her laundry basket, right at the foot of her bed. The bed ran from the closet door to the room door, undone with her blanket and pillows thrown all over it. Naturally, it was huge to accommodate the grand form of this imposing Venus.
More than once when I had the house for myself I laid on this bed, jerking off. With whatever t-shirt she used as pajama top at the time covering my face, I would drink up her body odor from it and the linen while creaming tissue after tissue. But I didn't have time for this, as I was on the lookout for stuff to add to my collection of things tainted with something Sally.

I call it my "trophy box". It's sealed with a lock only I know the combination for in a carton labeled "clothes" between several other identical ones under my bed that nobody has touched for years; something I know because when I first hid my stuff there, I left deep fingerprints in the thick layer of dust covering them. The trophy box is filled with relics that get me closer to Sally when she's not around. Sure, the memory of her last workout or the last time she came from the bathroom and walked past me wearing only in a towel is enough material for me to jack myself into ecstasy, but sometimes you just want a bit more.
It started three years ago with nothing but some pictures of her I duplicated from our family albums; photos from our most recent holiday with her in a bikini and such. It was nothing compared to the real thing, but at the time I haven't developed all my kinky depraved stalking methods yet so this was the best I had. The next time we went to the beach I did nothing but shoot pictures the whole time: the sea, the sky, the sand, everything – just so it wouldn't seem suspicious why I was taking way more photos of my family than usual. That same year I got my camera for my birthday, an expensive, professional one, which I thoroughly tested over the following couple of days using Sally as my model. It also gave me the chance to shoot proper pictures from my window when she was out in the garden, in the pool or sunbathing. I remember I used to arrange our deck chairs so I would have an unobstructed view from my room in case she decided to work on her tan. At the time I kept the pictures between the pages of a notepad in a drawer in my desk where nobody ever looked. I know, not very sophisticated or secure.

Then my art teacher made my class draw people. He went to great lengths to teach us about lights and shadows, skin tones, hair and of course the anatomy of the human body: bone structure, muscle groups etc. While he talked about each of those, illustrating them with this huge poster of models with no skin, I studied them intently and got hard thinking that I recognize all of them from my big sister. I couldn't wait to get home, because as soon as I did, I sat down on my desk and started drawing those people, only female and with a more pronounced muscularity. In other words, I wanted my own pictures of Sally.

My first attempts were crude and awkward, with no resemblance to a proper human being, let alone my beautiful sister. Long arms but short legs, wide chest but narrow shoulders, hands with five thumbs instead of fingers and heads looking more like hairy smiley faces rather than an actual one. But I was determined, and with every sketch I was unhappy with came a new, slightly better one until I was practically doing nothing but draw and paint, using photographs as reference all day long. It was wonderful, spending so much time with Sally, even though it was only in my head, exploring her body before my inner eye and then inching my way closer to bringing her perfect physique on paper. Examining every vein, every bulge, every shadow on her body, her lips, her cute nose, her large eyes, the way her hair falls over her shoulders, everything. At the time, all my friends were downloading porn from the internet while I sat for hours just to get one detail right, one detail to make a picture of the perfect jack off material. And it was worth it, I tell you. By the end of the school year I could sketch this goddess from every angle in every position within a couple of minutes, even though I preferred detailed paintings. Sometimes I would dare to let my imagination go wild and draw her even bigger, exaggerating bodyparts only to realize after a couple of months or a year or so that she has long exceeded those proportions, walking around larger in real life than I had fantasized.

It went on like this for a while, me drooling over her in secret and then masturbate to pictures in my room, until something wonderful happened. I guess it was what made me go from being a guy who jerks off thinking about his hot sister to a guy who's actively using her to satisfy himself without any actual sex involved. This is what made me spend much more time with her so that ultimately I'd fall in love with that wonderful girl on top of my immense lust for her. It was one afternoon when my mom had asked me to collect all our dirty clothes and put it into the washing machine. So I gathered everyone's laundry - mine, our parent's and Sally's - and headed downstairs where she was just coming from her workout. As always, she was a vision of pumped up beefiness, her body huge, throbbing and glistening, giving off her delicious perfume through ample perspiration. I mean, it was nothing compared to what she looks like today, but I dare anyone to tell a 15 year old girl of 6 feet 1 inches and over 200 pounds of muscle that she's not impressive.
Clad in a skin tight t-shirt and even tighter spandex workout shorts, both soaking wet as if she just took a shower still wearing them, she pushed all the right buttons in me as she walked upstairs coming closer and closer. Noticing the pile of laundry I was carrying, she asked me to wait and then took off her shirt to place it on top of it, leaving me mesmerized with a new memory of her I would use later. In fact, I was so mesmerized that it didn't even occur to me at first that I had a sample drenched with her heavenly body fluids right in front of me. It was only a few moments later, when I started filling up the machine while thinking about Sally, when the feeling of my fingertips touching the moist fabric brought me back. Immediately I was hooked and licked and sucked everything I could from the shirt until I opened my pants and promptly shot my load into it. Nowadays I try to enjoy and prolong the end, savoring the experience as well as I can before allowing myself release, but you know what 14 year olds are like. After cleaning up and putting all the clothes in the machine I could still taste her nectar which made me I swear to myself right there that it will not have been the last time.

And that's why I got myself a box: to store all the things I get off on for a little while, before returning them to the laundry so they won't be missed. Over the years I had all types of clothes in my possession, and most of it more than once. Mostly I target everything she wears during training, for obvious reasons, but also her regular shirts, pants, panties, bras, bikinis, occasionally even socks. Sometimes when I manage to get my hands on a really stinking shirt, usually during the summer and worn for several of her extra heavy workouts over several days, I put it on for a night and let the scents engulf me in my sleep to fuel dreams of her doing things to me I wished she'd do in real life. Right now the box contains a workout shirt I'll have to return soon, a bra, a towel and a complete set of clothes, consisting of the t-shirt, shorts, socks, panties and bra she wore when she helped a friend move house last sunday. Considering the weather and how much she labored that day, I had to, just had to obtain those souvenirs. And it was worth it. Just like it's will be worth sneaking around her room as soon as I find something to take with me.

I didn't have to look very long, as her bright blue t-shirt she worked out in earlier was lying on the floor, thrown there when my goddess unclad her mighty body. I knelt down and bend over what was to her an insignificant necessity and to me a sensuous fountain of potent pheromones. Holding it up in front of me I was amazed at its sheer size. When Sally's wearing these things I am too busy being blown away with the luscious curves of her physique to notice the hugeness of her everyday clothing. It was like a tent to shelter her humongous anatomy, cramped into its relatively small size, pushing against its tight constraints. I brought it to my face and smothered myself. Her fragrance was absolutely intoxicating; as always, an aphrodisiac.
Mere minutes ago her titanic muscles were pumping, rubbing and writhing against this very shirt, wrapped snugly around her hot, sweaty skin, absorbing her essence. Inhaling deeply, I moved the fabric all over my nose and face as my heart pounded and my cock started to grow. I knew this was going to get me up again so I put one hand on my crotch and started to massage it. As I let my nose enjoy the feast my tongue stuck out and licked the moist fabric, playing with the material. I removed it from my face and held it in front of me again, looking for the parts stained darker than the rest. Needless to say they were around her chest and under her sleeves, so I bit down on where her armpits drenched the shirt with her exquisite juice and started sucking like a very thirsty vampire.

While I was drinking her raunchy potion I looked around for more gear I could exert my perverse lust on. I crawled over to her sweat pants and lifted them in front of me. If her shirt was huge, these were monstrous. When she and I stood next to each other, the top of her legs, her crotch, would come up to just under my chest, around the middle of my belly. They were so long, nobody I know could wear these comfortably, not without looking like a clown. Sally, on the other hand, fills these trousers gracefully, furthermore adding the sexy curves of her gigantic, oaken thighs to them even though they're supposed to do the opposite. Mammoth quadriceps make each each trouser leg swell fit close to the curvaceous shapes of her lower body, only hinting at the fleshly courtship display going on under it. I put my hand on the crotch area and held the inside against my face. There was a hint of her womanly musk, a suggestion of her perfume, so subtle that somebody who hasn't been hooked on this stuff for years wouldn't even detect it. But I knew it was there, loading my nostrils with the faint smell my boner reacted so well to. The bulge in my pants swelled and filled my palm as I was rubbing myself through just my underpants. I couldn't even remember when I put my hand in there.

This was too good to stop, but I knew I had to get out of there. I needed something I could borrow and, say, use later to bring these feelings multiplying in me to a glorious finish. Obviously her shirts and pants were too large to take them with me; she would immediately notice them missing. It had to be something smaller, something that could be easily replaced - her panties! Quickly looking around, I saw that they weren't lying around like the rest of her clothes. She must have worn them when she walked to the bathroom, locking those sacred objects out of my reach.
But there was still the laundry basket. Those aren't so fresh, but they'd get the job done. Many a times I have helped myself to it, taking different articles of clothing to my room for my own indulgence and putting them to our family laundry before anybody notices them gone.

Putting both her sweat pants and shirt back where they were lying earlier, I walked over to this treasure chest and opened the lid. There wasn't much in it, apparently it had been emptied recently. At first it seemed like there wasn't much in there but for a couple of socks and two t-shirts, but then I started to dig deeper and found the jackpot: four or five panties, all at the bottom of the basket for some reason. I randomly picked one, the bikini one, and held it up in front of me, examining the white fabric and its noticeably worn out elastic waistband. You try forcing those little things over both of Sally's legs without damage. I resisted the temptation of immediately burying my face in it and instead stuffed it and another one in my hip pocket.

I was about to leave when I heard the toilet flush, making me freeze immediately. A second of worry quickly passed as I realized that this meant she hadn't even started her shower yet, giving me more time to do some important business. In this case, rearranging some wardrobe. It's something I discovered some time ago, when our mom told her that she was tired of the pile of clothes she had to wash every week due to Sally using a new shirt every day. So my sister started using one shirt for several days, thoroughly soaking each, then throwing it in the laundry. One day I noticed that she always went through the same couple of shirts because by the time she would go through those, freshly cleaned ones would come from the laundry and be put on top of her stack of workout shirts. So I secretly started to change the order of her clothes, putting everything that conceals her lovely looks at the bottom.
Baggy or loose fitting - bottom! Skin tight – top! Black or dark material - bottom! Lighter colors – tend to get see-through when moist, so – top! Sleeves - ...well, she said she likes the feel of her arms working against them, so when they're so tight that they get pushed back in a flex – top! Otherwise – bottom! The green one that's torn – top!

So the fact that that day she wore a shirt with sleeves that comfortably went down to her elbows was a mistake on my part and I wasn't going to let this happen again. Stepping back into the closet I went for her stack of shirts she would use for her training and started my work. After all this time doing it, I immediately recognized every one of them and repositioned them while imagining her wearing the green one during her workout tomorrow. I'll definitely be there watching her pump her arms, subjecting those poor battered sleeves to her ballooning triceps and rising biceps, two towering peaks increasing the rips slowly but steadily. Daydreaming along while giving the shirts a new, better order I was surprised to hear music, suddenly appearing near to me. The noisy scraping sound that started a second later made it clear that it was a cell phone. I leaned out of the closet and there it was, lying on Sally's desk, flashing and slightly moving forward with every vibration, loudly playing some song. Looking back, I guess standing in the door frame watching the phone sing wasn't exactly the right thing to do. To be fair, I wasn't expecting what happened next.

The unmistakable sound of the bathroom door being unlocked brought me back into the room. Shit! Like a chicken with its head cut off I stepped forward, backward, then forward again, freaked that she's gonna kill me when she finds me in her room, going through her stuff. A voice in my head then told me there's no problem with me being there as long as I pretended I was looking for the phone. I relaxed and felt relieved, but only for a moment, as as second voice frantically pointed out I was still holding one of her workout shirts in my hands and how looking for something between her clothes could make me appear in a bad light. Alarmed, I leaped into the closet, hastily putting her shirt back, ignoring the calm voice telling me to cool off. I was ready to go out when the other voice reminded us that we could never explain what we were doing when she sees me coming out of there. Confused of what to do and where to go I pushed the door shut and stood quietly in the dark, breathing heavily.

So much for my brilliant plan.

The only sound was coming from her phone, still playing that song. Slowly, silently, I moved back from the door, deeper into the blackness of her unlit wardrobe, until I bumped into the wall. The solid barrier stopping me from leaving only emphasized this dark trap I've gotten my self into. The only light was coming from the keyhole as a tiny white dot in front of me. For a brief eternity nothing happened, but then I heard the sound of footsteps through the door. It was impossible to determine where exactly they were, where they were going or whether they were coming nearer. I didn't know what to do as the two voices were quiet. Great, now they were shutting up.
Looking around in the darkness, I tried to find something I could hide behind or hide in or whatever, but it was all pitch-black, shadowy and dark as the night. If she were to look in here, there would be no way for her to miss me standing there, pressed against the wall, only a few feet away from her monumental form blocking the doorway as well as the only chance of escape. She would be pissed, I imagine. If I found somebody unexpectedly in my closet, I would be furious, yelling and spitting, throwing them out of my room immediately. But I wasn't in the same physical position as Sally. To think of her unimaginable strength in the context of being enraged and out to punish the invader almost made me shit my pants.

If she liked putting me between her legs and squeeze me for good fun, what would she do in anger? Enclosing my ribcage with her monstrous quads and pressing down on me to the point were my bones would give in? Taking me in a headlock at the same time, violently grinding my face against her titanium biceps until I screamed, my wailings absorbed by her unmerciful arms? If she placed me against the wall and then rammed her solid back into me repeatedly, flattening my body like a steam roller? Grabbing a leg and my neck to lift me up, pinning me roughly against the ceiling with a hand crushing my throat? Then throwing me on the bed to lay her body of concrete three-hundred-something pounds on my puny one, pressing me into the mattress, forcefully cuddling me into a cage of hard muscle to squash me to bruises, nearly suffocating me in the process? It's been ages since I last saw her weigh herself, god knows how much she's packing now and what ideas she might have. Under different circumstances I would have masturbated to such fantasies, but at that moment I was too terrified. But what was even more horrifying than all those thoughts was the fear that if she found out about me, she would turn away in disgust and never want to come near me again.

The cell phone stopped its singing, followed by Sally's voice going "Hello?". I didn't dare to breath as I waited for whatever was coming next, turning mere moments of silence into ages of nothing but feeling my heart beat. A huge wave of euphoria washed over me as she started chatting away with whoever just saved my life. Knowing that I wasn't going to die in the next minutes made me let out a long sigh of relief, immediately stifled by my hands clamping my mouth shut before it gave me away. Listening for any indication that I just attracted some unwanted attention, I silently began to move towards the tiny white dot, slowly kneeling down, careful not to make any sounds. Close to the door, I bent forward to press one eye against the keyhole, checking out the situation in the adjacent room. What I saw took my breath away and shocked me to my most inner core.

She was standing in the middle of the room, letting the light falling through the window paint contours of a golden hue on her astounding physique. My mouth must have dropped open as I laid eyes on nothing but slightly shining skin save for a pair of white panties. No matter what I felt in that closet just seconds before, I was back on arousal mode complete with blood redistribution and underpants getting tighter. She was unbelievable - not doing anything except talking on the phone and yet this was the single most stimulating display of female power and muscularity in the world. I felt sorry for all those poor people around this planet not living in one house with this beauty.

Her big and long feet, one of them in a sock, stood firmly on the floor, easily supporting the monumental body that rested on them. Following her legs upward were her calves, shaped like lovely upside down hearts, easily visible even from the front. When she stands on her toes, those things transform into hard marble with a thin layer of skin lying directly on top of them. I know that because once she got a cramp and I had the duty and the pleasure of kneading those blocks of beef until the tension was gone. Of course I made sure that the pain wouldn't return, keeping on massaging even though she already felt fine.

Going north from her calves, over her knees, I reached her thighs, protruding balloons wrapped in satin skin and filled to the max with hard meat. Those immensely huge chunks of ham were probably too large for me to reach around them with both arms; at least that's what they looked like. Her legs, pound on pound female power, gave her lush feminine curves as well as being prominent and unmistakable indicators of her virtually unlimited strength. The rounded shapes of her naked thighs bulging outwards to strong and mighty hips had their usual effect on me, letting me grow in my pants and leak a bit of precum. Thick cables of rocklike muscle inflated to two spheres of potent killers, hazardous to anyone trapped between them when they close in on him. They were sensual pillars protecting her womanhood, alluring death traps, allowing access to the treasures that lay there only to one lucky person that I knew I could never be. I gazed upon dozens of inches of forbidden flesh, exciting, seductive hills and dales, wanting nothing more than to worship every single part of her divine body, give myself to her, showering her in kisses or letting her squeeze me to bits if that is what she wants. This goddess is closer to me than anybody else in the world, but in a cruel twist of fate also farther away from me than anybody else in the universe. She sets alight a fire deep down inside of me without even knowing it, unaware of this mental power that surpasses even her physical one.

Upwards were her savory panties, trapped between two massive quads, with no prospects of escaping the tight prison of her iron crotch unless released by her strong hands. Atop of her navel was the rippled, slightly concave area of her sculpted abs. A deeply etched lattice of six distinctively separated cobblestones – or eight cobblestones, depends on how you count. The lowest two were sort of elongated, not as pronounced as the other three rows above and they subtly disappeared into firm skin towards her navel. But there was no question that sooner or later her excruciating workouts with dozens and hundreds of decline crunches and situps with colossal weights held over her head and whatnot will carve out those two remaining tummy muscles to chiseled glory like the other six. She's always saying how she hates training her abs - which is why she works them so hard. Not wanting to let one body part behind just because she doesn't like the exercises she tortures herself during her abdominal exercises, pushing herself through the pain and agony to meet her high standards. All that with respectable results, to say the least, as her better-than-just-washboard stomach is every bit as firm and solid as the rest of her incredible body. Something I know for a fact, not only because of having felt her up innumerable times in secret but also because once in a while she comes to me to flaunt her large- and steeliness.

Her hands were feminine yet large and husky with thick fingers, each strengthened through years of holding unimaginably heavy dumbbells and grasping thick bars with an iron grip. They flowed into hulking forearms covered in fibrous streaks of tissue and veins running lengthwise all over them. Two chunks of meat with breadth probably greater than mine combined started my journey over her opulent arms with me knowing it was only getting better. With one arm holding the cell to her ear, my peep followed the other on a vascular footpath past her elbow to her triceps, a jutting arch rising tall from her only slightly bent right arm. Bulging fibers of muscle stood out from her beautifully modeled limb, providing acres of enticing beef for my hungry, insatiable eyes. Licking my lips I watched the dents and swells on the outer side of her arm dance subtly in a motion of vibrant ripples as she shifted her palm to rest on her hip. In bodybuilding, a nicely shaped arm gets the alluring peak from the biceps while it's the triceps that gives it most of its size. And in Sally's case, that's quite a lot – enough for me to finally give in to the urge and put a hand down my pants, stimulating myself through this wonderful viewing.

Moving over to the adjacent block of tissue, I was treated to a view of a round, bulbous biceps, one of two marvelous guns, towering mountains inflating to unreal dimensions without even flexing. Even though her arm was hardly bend, it ballooned tremendously, transforming into an enormous ball of rock filled with strength beyond reckoning. Hard, sensuous chunks of dense flesh jutted out to form a hunk of unbelievable, herculean size. Meat grew and swelled only a few feet away from me, producing ruttish curves virtually begging me to run my tongue all over them. I could almost feel its concrete touch just by looking at this rippling display of freaky development, vastly bulging outward in a way too large and too gorgeous to believe if it wasn't right before me. It was visibly throbbing with power as the blood rushed through her veins, almost breathing without the constraints of a shirt or sleeves. Titanic muscles under her silky skin writhed with each ever so small movement, creating new shapes for me to gawk at. The copious mass of the rocklike beef alone brought me near a state of drooling frenzy, lusting over the carnal feast she presented. This, like every single inch of her, was the biggest hunk of flesh I had ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. In fact, it seemed to me that there were no parts on those looming pinnacles left untouched by my questing lips or fingers before, usually when I take advantage of her being sound asleep. I never got tired of enjoying her outrageous proportions and probably never will.

My next stop on my visual journey over miles and acres of my big sister's sexy body were her shoulders, one of the most noticeable features that give her physique this ridiculously large form. Don't get me wrong, everything about her is huge and defined to the max. But if she, say, covered herself in a huge blanket you couldn't see her taut abs or her tight, round ass, only her broad shoulders and whopping thighs would shape it to those majestic contours I crave so much. Her deltoids were gargantuan balls of a stupendous size I couldn't even name – bowling balls, soccer balls, maybe even bigger, who knows? They were striated like when you let your fingers run through sand, leaving parallel lines that signal resolute devotion and incomparable power through these little details. Curvaceous silhouettes dovetailed seamlessly into one another, making a new muscle bulge outward where its neighbor ended, thus continuing the voluptuous profile of her body. It was quite a kick for me watching ten people's worth of serious weightlifter's meat jostling for space in one place.

Chunky traps - able supports for her bull neck - rose from her delts, climbing even higher than the height of her chin. I don't know if it's possible, but with Sally I think there's a chance they're going to reach her ears sooner or later, cradling her neck in a thick beefy collar. Up the exceptional slopes towards her jaw there were thick muscles bulging to cocoon her throat in cliffs of steel covered in skin. Following the lines of her firm upper body upwards, I reached and gazed into the face of a goddess. They say love is blind, so there's a microscopic chance that I only adore her beguiling divine features because I am hopelessly in love with her, but I don't think so. Large, round, sparkling eyes filled the room with cheer and bliss as much as her lush, full lips forming one of her innumerable happy smiles, superb white teeth showed as she talked one of her friends. Her face alone was so angelic and gorgeous and everything perfect, I didn't even want to move away from the sight.

But there was one part of her I deliberately saved for last when surveying her statuesque body, and I wasn't going to miss out on it. Over her braless shoulders my eyes wandered down to her breasts, completely naked except for a thin layer of moisture she didn't wipe up earlier, giving her a slight suggestion of shininess. How I wanted to let my tongue run over them, lapping up the remaining nectar from her leviathan chest. To press my face against her supple bosom, the only soft area on her, feel the sensual cushions conveniently located at the exact level of my head due to her supernatural height. This softness contrasted and complimented the rest of her hard and unyielding physique. Hemispheres of delicate tissue enriched her form, giving her feminine traits that would be the envy of every woman in the world. The soft curves of her breasts outlined heavy but sensuous domes, adorned with a rosy nipple each. Large, dark aureolas encircled two pointed teats made for wrapping my lips around them. Strong chest muscles jutted from her body like two boulders, inches deep, forming a ravine in the middle and occasionally twitching with barely concealed power along with each breath or shift in position. They alone would have given her a luscious cleavage, deep and beguiling, irresistible for any man. But with her fantastic tits, round and full, perfectly shaped, seemingly defying gravity while resting on thick pecs they were two planets designed to drive anyone with half a brain and a set of balls wild with stark raving lust. She was a collection of dangerous curves, enough to let anyone know she was all woman but with a built and a physical condition doubtlessly conveying her power.

For some reason this made me think back to when I first noticed her body in a sexual way. It was our big family vacation with me, Sally, mom and dad on some holiday island; don't even remember which one. I was 13 years old, only three weeks away from my 14th birthday while my big sis had recently turned 15 and stood a whopping 6 feet 1, making my physique of 10 inches less look even smaller than it already did. I mean, I've always been rather skinny and a tad shorter than the average, but reaching only up to your sister's collar bone? That bothered me; although, looking back, I realize now that it bothered me in a different way than I thought at the time.

Anyway, the first day at the beach was the first time I saw my sister in a bikini in a very long time. The year before there was no big family vacation because I went to a summer camp with a friend of mine, making our parents send Sally to a sports camp to support her relatively new love for sports so they could have their own holiday. Also, we didn't have a pool in our backyard, so she never walked around the house in a bikini like she does nowadays, and she was a bit more reserved about her body than she is now. Additionally, at the time she started working out I was the absolute opposite of athletic which is why I never spent time with her in the gym. That, and because watching my sister working out in tight clothes made me really uncomfortable; only for me to discover later that this wasn't due to brotherly awkwardness but rather brotherly arousal.

So, my family and I arrived at the beach. I somehow managed not to glance at Sally's bikini-clad body all the way from our shared hotel room. I often thought about the coincidences that had to occur for that to happen: when we undressed, I went to the bathroom to give her some privacy - cause you don't want to see your sister naked, right? When I was finished changing, she had already put on a t-shirt over her swimsuit cause she didn't want to expose herself to the sun before applying suncream. When we walked to the beach, I was chatting with my dad while mom and Sal walked behind us and when we found a nice spot, I immediately spread my towel under the parasol and laid down on my back just at the exact right time to see her take off her shirt.

And it took my breath away. Standing in glaring sunlight, in a very revealing two-piece bathing suit, every single one of her contours lit up to highlight her gorgeous physique. Shapely legs consisting of noticeable calves and husky thighs with slight muscle definition flowed into a narrow waist adorned with a clear cut six pack. Not too deep, not as hard as now, but definitely firmer than what other girls, even athletic ones, usually sport. Two small breasts, well-formed but years away from the size they would eventually reach, sat on top of two defined pectorals one could easily make out from far. Strong forearms, hardly corded at all but still looking brawny connected to jutting triceps and remarkable biceps, each strictly separated from each other. Round shoulders bulged outwards, forming her solid build, right next to traps that ended in a comparatively very bulky neck. In those almost two years she had worked out I had noticed her getting a bit fleshier, her arms getting a bit thicker, her shoulders a bit wider, her body becoming a bit more voluptuous, but I never imagined it to be this much. I thought those were signs of my sister becoming stocky and chunky, not a tantalizingly hot bodybuilder with a physique made for instant hard ons.

A hearty laughter for whoever she was talking to brought me back to present day and my attention back to her face. This friend she was talking to probably didn't even realize let alone appreciate the honor of having this goddess as a close acquaintance. Even just chatting over the phone should – shit! Phone! Like a flash I leaned back and frantically tried to dig out my cell phone from my pocket. Quickly putting it on vibrate I quietly breathed myself calm. Matt could have called any minute, giving me away with a simple call or text. God knows what would have happened then. I was about to put this now disarmed bomb back into my pants when I thought of something: if I am stuck in here, I might as well take something enjoyable with me for my box. Activating the camera, I put the lens right in front of the keyhole to snap some shots for later. I tried to point it directly at her, but it was too narrow to get a proper angle. She would have needed to stand directly in front of the door, yet with enough distance to it so her immeasurable body would even fit in the frame.

So I looked back through the keyhole. And Sally looked back at me. Startled, I pulled my head back thinking she had discovered me before realizing that there is a mirror on the other side of this door, and that she was ogling herself. Really, can you blame her? Pressing my head back against the door I watched her take a step towards me, extending a hand straight down. With her arm outstretched she turned to the side, focused on her triceps that popped out of it like a juicy sausage. Rotating her arm to examine it from every angle she switched between looking at the mirror and the prodigious flesh right in front of her. The striped muscle jutted out, clearly separated from every other one around, leaving a weirdly shaped lump under tight skin. Licking my lips as I stared at the massive triceps she produced casually while "aha"-ing into the phone, as well as her biceps, that grew to grand size even though completely stretched. I nearly began to fill my briefs with milk. As it was, my cock was throbbing, since it was forced to point downward in my pants.

Then she started to alternately bend and straighten her arm, flexing and relaxing different parts on it. Muscles bounced and solidified with every move like molten lava or molten steel – something hard and hot by all means. When she extended her hands, her triceps stood tall over defined meat; when she brought them back, her biceps inflated to hard forms larger than anything I know. It went like that for some time: stretch and bend, up and down, in and out, swell and swell more. She was proud of her achievement and I could see in her eyes how she liked the look of her pumped guns obeying her orders to move and grow at her will. With her arm bent a mammoth peak puffed from it, making me gasp quietly and my dick leaking against my palm, while the iron, swollen mass pushed into her breast, giving me two delicious orbs of womanly treasures to drool at. The block steeled into a humongous mountain of beef, swelling to a monumental scale rivaled by no one. They pulsed and jumped, ballooning with every slight move of her arm, seemingly expanding every time she brought it back into position. Clenching her fist, the round hump hardened and the vein running over it became more prominent; as she twisted her forearm it sprang up and down, bulging excitedly. The mountain of muscularity began to tremble as Sally tightened them hard, then harder, harder, even harder and then finally so hard that she slightly contorted her face while pressing out the hugest biceps I've ever seen in my life. It was orgasmically large, a gleaming curve of unreal size that made me grab my cock hard to prevent the ejaculation I was so close to. She held the pose for a few seconds, then relaxed the muscle again, but didn't move her arm.

She was a master in suspense and teasing, in sensual posing and muscular display. Sally had all the right assets and the instinctive knowledge of how to turn her admirers on to sexual bliss, even though there was no audience - that she knew of. Her natural ability of playing with spectators, be it a very lucky guy or just her own mirror image, was demonstrated by her next move:

Slowly she started moving first her hand, then her whole arm upwards. It was adorned in subtle pulsations, basic contractions of muscle to move one's limb, evident only because of its enormous size. I watched as she raised this gargantuan mass of muscle past her abs and breasts, brushing her nipples with her forearm. The touch lifted her boobs a few inches before it lost grip and let them fall back, almost instantly landing in their exquisite round shapes again. Her mammoth arm still wandered towards her face where the tip of her tongue ran over her succulent lips, leaving them moist and shining in a lecherous red hue. As the colossus of hard flesh neared her chin her lips puckered to point towards her rising biceps, still traveling towards it. Shortly before it touched her mouth she clenched her fist like before, letting everything between her shoulder and wrist explode in luscious bulges, heavy flesh, hardening to steel at her will in a display of freaky power, ready to conquer the last inches of air between it and its destination.
A very soft sigh, a low but still audible gush of air, accompanied by a muted groan, a reduced "mmh" out of her core, escaped from within herself as her lips made contact with her awesome and tremendous arm. It was a symphony of beauty as her stunningly gorgeous face connected with her stunningly powerful muscle, combining two of the most stimulating things in the world in one devastatingly exciting picture.

Pressing a kiss like that, otherwise so totally innocent and sweet you could even use it on your little brother, against her sensual arm filled the scene with such unbearable sexual tension that I had to turn away and violently think of something else before I just fucking creamed myself in a loud, revealing groan. Yanking my hand out of my pants I tried to calm myself so this state of arousal - where the mere pressure of a pair of pants is enough to make me explode - would go away without any messy incident. I quietly moved back and leaned against the wall behind me, intently staring at the white dot where my eyes had been just moments earlier. Now I just had to wait. Calming myself didn't go so well as I would have hoped, as my mind filled the darkness of the closet with life-sized replicas of Sally, showing off her wonderful body to me. Even though I was only looking at pitch black darkness and not touching myself I was still hard as a rock in my pants.

I can't believe that less than half an hour ago I was walking down the stairs with not one dirty thought on my mind. Since then I've gotten within inches of Sally's warm, savory body to examine her post-workout pump from up close. Then she demonstrated mind-boggling strength by casually lifting me in her hands and out of her way, letting me feel up her hot, iron-like biceps in the process. After that she provided me with her deliciously soaked gym clothes to lick and smell and suck out all of her ambrosial juices before unknowingly trapping me in her closet. There, on the brink of getting caught, all my excitement intensified with the fear of being punished by her powerful hands, getting to see and feel her body in ways nobody should ever experience. But it turned out to be a very private posing session, letting me explore and study her glistening form, writhing and dancing, presenting itself for no one but me. It was also the first time in a long while I've gotten a good look on her in the nude. Well, almost nude, but the amount of skin covered by a pair of panties on such a monumental physique is negligible. And finally, the massive dot in the i, was her tantalizingly sensual peck on her most sexy muscle that made this whole sequence too much for me to bear.

If I could, I would have taken my cock out right there in the closet to jack off to this phenomenal experience, one of many this summer, but I refrained. So I sat down, listening to Sally's muffled voice through the door, absent-mindedly rubbing the bulge in my pants and feeling the occasional drop of precum I leaked. As I do ever so often, I felt thankful for all of this. I can't imagine any other seventeen-year-old having masturbation-orgasms like I do. They go on the net and download some pics of skinny girls with fake tits and fantasize how it would be like to be with her. But with Sally, I get all my five senses catered to. Every day I can see, touch, smell, taste and hear her, letting all of it flow into satisfying myself. And even though sex with another person is so much more complete and intimate, an interplay of what you and your partner like, a shared exploration of each other's feelings and so much more that can't be put in words, having my big sister's body so close to me is almost as good as - and sometimes even better than - intercourse.
Can't even begin to imagine what actual sex with Sally would be like.

But I know the comparison. Me and Liz, my only ex-girlfriend, were both virgins when we started dating. After a couple of months we started to have sex, which was amazing, honestly. I know, it's hard to imagine that after a career of secretly lusting after my sister I could go for a "regular" girl, but I did and it was fantastic. She even had a bit of muscular build due to being on the school's athletics team; rather sinewy than thick. Anyway, one day I realized that my feeling for Sally were much, much stronger than my feelings for Liz, so I broke up with her. Anything else just wouldn't have been fair. I went back home were Sally, the woman I truly love, was waiting for me with more of the best orgasms I had ever known. And that is why, even though I have to go through a lot of pain, stress, fear and paranoia to get as close as possible to her, I am still thankful for this wonderful fate of living with her under one roof.

-"...ok. Yeah. See ya tomorrow!"

Sally saying good-bye to her friend brought me out of my thoughts. If she didn't look into her closet and went straight back to the bath I would get off scot-free. I just needed to be quiet so I wouldn't get discovered. With every sound indicating she was about to leave the room I got more and more relaxed, but also more and more excited. First, there were a couple of beeps as she pressed some buttons on her phone. Next, a low clank as she put it back on the table, followed by two or three seconds of some very quiet shuffling. Then there were footsteps, getting quieter and quieter until the bathroom door closed and locked with its distinctive sound. I crept forward and held my ear to the door, not taking the chance of opening it until I heard the shower running. It took maybe half a minute or so, but finally there it was; the sound that allowed me to leave my prison cell.
Stepping out into Sally's room I was blinded by glaring sunlight coming through the window, making me close my eyes to slowly readjust. As I got more and more used to the bright light, I looked around the room, as if I was trying to figure out what had changed.

And, indeed, there was something. I wasn't quite sure at first because it seemed to good to be true. I stepped closer to the pile of clothes on the floor and knelt down, wanting to see from up close what could have been just a trick of my mind. But, no, it was there, enthroned on top of her shirts and trousers were a pair of her freshly worn panties. I didn't even dare to touch them, because I wanted to be sure that this was as good a present as it appeared to me. I reached in my hip pocket and pulled out the two panties I've put there earlier and held them before me, one in each hand. Unbelievably, the piece of undergarment in my left hand was the exact same type and color as the one Sally's just left there for me to find. I threw the other one back into the laundry basket and placed the decoy right next to the wonderful, real one.

Only then I extended my hands towards that little white heap. Lifting the treasure up to my eye height I examined its shape and color, the light shades were the fabric is soaked the most. I let the tips of my finger slowly run across the material, feeling the moisture. Standing up, I held it at arm's length from me, not wanting to catch any of her scent before I could fully enjoy it in the privacy of my room. Just as I was about to leave, I could feel my cell phone vibrate against my growing cock. Slightly annoyed, I took it out and looked at the display. It was Matt, probably calling me to say that he's home now. Looking back from my phone to the tasty panties in my hand, I decided to let the call go to voice mail.

I guess Matt could wait.


- - -
End of chapter four.

Offline gunshow98

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #8 on: September 11, 2019, 01:58:54 pm »
I am hooked on this story. You are an artist and words are your paintbrush. Cant wait for chapter 5!

Offline JangoFitt5

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #9 on: September 11, 2019, 02:42:39 pm »
This is not a story I wrote.Author's name was Nelek.He was a great author but as I said he stopped writing.I just share his stories.
Here is Chapter 5


Sally and Me
By Nelek
Chapter 5: The Workout

The familiar sound of rattling weights came from our basement. As I had been for some minutes
now, I was standing on top of the stairs that led to our home gym, listening to the rhythmic clanging of metal as Sally did her daily workout. Pacing up and down the uppermost stair, I was trying to bring myself to do what I was there for in the first place: to dare and take the first step towards our exercise room.

That was nothing new or risky, nothing I hadn't done hundreds of times before. I was going to join Sally in her training to watch her do some serious pumping of iron while I pretended to do an athletic workout myself. It's quite nifty, actually: in the unlikely case of her noticing something weird about my behavior, I could always chalk it up to the exhaustion.

This is what I always do. Over the years, I have learned to successfully hide my lust for my sister's fantastic physique, keeping a straight face in her presence even though anything more than a short glimpse would be sufficient for me to cum on the spot, never letting her even catch a hint of my more than brotherly love for her, even though everything about her was designed to make me drool. I have spent years refining my strategies to conceal any hints of being smitten by her stunning looks; hinde any clue of whose images I masturbate to, and generally appear normal to her. This time, however, I was a bit nervous about walking down there. Since the episode yesterday, when I got trapped in her closet and watched her move around naked, I was unsure how I was going to react to Sally's mighty beauty. But I knew I needed to go down there. Not only because I need to be with her, to see her, hear her, even smell and taste her, but also because I needed to prove to myself that I wasn't going to reveal myself for what I truly feel and therefore possibly ruin our great relationship.

From downstairs I heard the clanging of weights start again, followed by the distinct groans accompanying her workout. Just the sounds of my sister had me getting hard already, so I checked the position of my cock again, confirming that if I were to grow erect during the following hour or so – and believe me, I will – it won't produce a visible bulge. The sounds meant a new set of whatever exercise she was doing and a chance for me to go down there. Because when I arrive in our gym while she is in the middle of an exercise, she won't talk. If she doesn't talk, I don't talk. And if I don't talk, I couldn't possibly screw things up. Taking a deep breath I boldly started walking.

Arriving in the basement I looked around the room for Sally, who was nowhere to be seen. I followed the rhythmic noises and the grunts around all kinds of exercise machines to reach the far wall where we keep the free weights. The hissing got louder as I approached this divine being, covering the last few feet to the workout bench where she lay, beautiful as ever.

She was lying on her back with a mammoth dumbbell in each hand, pressing them straight up from her chest. Her legs were spread wide to balance her enormous body; her big feet firmly on the ground, supporting her gargantuan frame. Unfortunately, she was wearing sweat pants, so I couldn't peer at her warm, moist inner thighs shimmering in the neon light of our basement, but it still excited me to see the outlines of her bloated legs against the not-so-loose workout pants. They were twitching underneath the fabric with every move, constantly tensing and relaxing with each rep she did. Letting my gaze wander over her swollen gray sweats I actually was kind of glad that she was wearing them because if the day before was any indication, looking at her naked legs and panties apparently would make me leak precum. Shifting my look I saw that her shirt had ridden up to expose the first row of her cobblestone abdomen, reflecting the light in its glistening skin. The lattice of her belly inflated with each breath she took, then receded as she exhaled. Every single of her brick-like abs was protruding from the area around them, slightly tensed in order to help keep her body straight. That is the beauty of watching Sally during her workout. She's doing, say, bench presses, an exercise actually aimed at her pectorals, and yet all of her superhuman body is alive, moving in a symphony of enticing muscularity.

The other ridges of her tight abdominals disappeared under her shirt but remained perfectly visible, forming waves under the stretched cotton. The material soon bulged high up into the air as it encompassed a pair of magnificent breasts poorly held by a sports bra. I could feel the heat rising in me as images of yesterday's situation started replaying in my head, particularly ones of her naked tits gently swaying around. This was similar, yet different: every time Sally raised her arms, her breasts got squished between them, when she lowered them again, they immediately returned to their original shape of perfect roundness. At the same time they were subjected to the constant movements of her pecs underneath, jumping with every flex, taking the supple tissue of her bosom along with them, making them sway and wobble pretty much non-stop.

The root for this hypnotizing animation lay just a bit further north, right where the fabric descended from her ample boobs back to impervious flesh. Her pecs were plates of armor, raising like they were about to jump off her body. They showed through her shirt, with a nice muscular cleavage around her neckline and the shapes of deep, wide plates spreading and rising visibly. It looked like she was wearing a bulletproof vest under her clothes. Contracting and relaxing in a rhythmic fashion, they pushed against her shirt due to their unnatural size, whether flexed or not. Her sides were adorned with amazing wings as she stretched her arms towards the ceiling, making her back flare out. It was broad, juicy meat that formed her lats, filling her shirt completely as they spread from the rear. Even though this was only a small part of her vast and expansive back one could tell that this girl had the frame of a massively oversized cupboard or a highway sign or some other unusual simile.

Sally's arms entered my vision as she lowered them down to her chest, with me finding myself stifling a gasp a second later. Her guns were huge; simply huge. The muscles on her arms jutted with incomparable curves as she held the dumbbells for a moment, allowing me to examine those slabs of beef. Though obviously not flexed, as that exercise doesn't involve the biceps, they were still bulging profusely due to her bent arms, filling her sleeves like they were especially sewn around them. I realized that she was wearing the shirt that was already slightly ripped where her arms form the biggest peaks; the green one I had prepared for her the day before. It looked like it would probably only need one powerful flex for her to ultimately destroy them, so I had my fingers crossed for me to be there when it happens.

Suddenly the two dumbbells moved upwards again, pulling my eyes along with them. Stretching her arms made those triceps transform from a rotund hunk of flesh to fat roll of muscle right in front of me. When tensed, they formed a dense sausage, a worm of hard meat, sticking out of her limb; hard and impenetrable and at least as impressive when shaped like a big semi-circle of beef. Her biceps, extraordinary when rolled up to a ball, were just as imposing in this expanded state, still ballooning to give her sleeves a hard time of encompassing all that mass. They flowed into brawny forearms made of cords of solid tissue that throbbed because of her gripping the dumbbells hard. At least one vein was running from her large hands down over her arm, showing how much she was pumping herself up. She was quivering slightly, fighting to continue the exercise properly, loudly hissing as she sent the weights traveling further up into the air.

Her arms were connected to the broadest rack of shoulders the world has ever seen. The sheer width of her body was amazing, spreading far wider than the narrow bench supporting her. She plainly had the perfect genetics to get such a build; firm and robust, large and heavy with strong bones. An advantage she used perfectly by pumping it up with big, big weights, evidenced not only by the bowling ball shapes bustling underneath the fabric. Tight globes of rock solid skin made up her deltoids, with every single strand of fiber billowing to give her her trademark awesome look of vastness. Each of these globes was seated to the side of one thick, chunky pipe of flesh leading to her neck; a bull of a neck, a work of art created by mega-heavy shrugs, right here, in our home gym. I didn't know where to look; her husky traps swelling with each minor adjustment to balance herself, or her immense neck pulsating through every repetition.

A grunt made me turn to her face; a grunt signifying that she was starting to struggle with the weight. That's understandable I'd say, as it was espically huge and she had been at it for a while now, inhaling loudly as she lowered it for yet another rep. She grimaced, showing an intensely strained expression of stark determination to continue. Eyes focused, staring directly at the spot in mid-air where the dumbbells have to go, her forehead tense and furrowed, the corners of her mouth pulled back, revealing her teeth, clenched tightly, letting only a muffled "ungh" through, hair tied back yet with several strands loose and sticking to her skin – she was the effigy of the athlete bent on finishing her training. Her skin was covered in perspiration, glistening in the light of our home gym. Beads of her sweat were constantly gathering all over her face and body, occasionally forming little puddles before suddenly trickling down her neck and cheeks in small, fast rivulets. They dripped onto the bench or were soaked up by the fabric of her shirt; a tiny spectacle she didn't even pay a millionth of the attention to that I did.

As her face twisted with the effort she had to exert, I couldn't help thinking how beautiful she still looked. It's hard to believe how such an angelic face like my sister's can distort itself to such a grimace of struggle and exertion; and it's even harder to explain how this can still seem so stimulating to me. I guess it has something with what features contorted like that signify: incredible strength and hard muscle as well as the process of increasing both to maximum levels. Personally, I can think of only few hotter and more sexual things than my mighty sister displaying her incredible egree of power.

It had probably only been a couple seconds since I entered the room, but I realized I should make myself look busy. Watching that body can easily make one lose track of time. As I was going to do anyway, I walked over to the stationary bike and started doing some stretching exercises for warming up. Sally continued her training, oblivious that I was even there. She goes into some sort of trance while exercising, unaware of anything going on around her. Even after finishing it takes her a couple of seconds to return to the present. Pushing oneself to one's limits like Sally does on a regular basis apparently takes up all the attention one can muster.
And she does push herself; always going to failure on the last set of the exercise she's doing. And more often than not, she's not satisfied with the timing of her muscles giving out. Countless times I watched her let the weights crash down on the rack with a loud bang and yell some unintelligible growl or a simple  "Fuck it!" Yes, apparently all the immaculate sets with unbelievable weights she does right before that aren't enough to compensate for that one set she "almost" finished.

Then she would stand there, chest heaving, sweat dripping, steadying herself on nearby equipment before taking her water bottle. Drinking from it while walking around, her body would be tense, hulking, restless with unfinished business. She would swing her long, thick arms or legs around to loosen up some more, not knowing how much space she takes up when she does that; nor how huge and terrifying she looks when she starts assaulting the room around her with her bare, concrete boulders of limbs. When a girl that's over a foot taller than you and more than twice your body weight waves her muscular arms around with a grim look on her face, trust me, you do feel intimidated.

Sally completed the set with a short, but strong roar as she couldn't bring the weights up anymore. She lowered her arms down her sides and dropped the dumbbells on the floor, their mass producing a loud bang even though they only fell an inch or two. Still on her back, resting from yet another grueling exercise, she relaxed her body completely and let her arms and legs hang loose. Those hulks, still bulging with humungous muscularity, are at that particular moment absolutely void of any power – as unbelievable as it may seem. She can't even raise her arms without effort. Lying on her back, resting that monumental body, her enormous ribcage inflated to huge proportions as she inhaled.

Even though the room should be full of it, I noticed the complete absence of Sally's delicious scent. Looking around I saw both windows wide open, letting her exquisite essence escape from me. I decided to put a stop to that, but at a height of several feet over my head each window was completely out of my reach. Stepping onto a spare workout bench that stood by the wall I shut one but couldn't possibly reach the other without pushing the bench I was standing on over there. Unfortunately that was the corner Sally was lying in and she way lying on the other one. I pondered for a second how I could shut the other window, when -

"Hey, there."

Apparently Sally had returned to the land of the living. I turned around and looked at her, sitting there, hunched over, forearms on her thighs, biceps bulging in their relaxed state while sipping from her bottle, the soaked shirt stretched around her physique, showing beautiful curves as they reshaped the fabric.

"Hey Sal," I answered. "Would you close the window for me?"

"Why? It's warm outside."

"Yeah, but I wanna go on the bike and you know how there's draft between the door and the windows," I said, motioning from one wall to the other. Even though there was no draft in our basement, I had used this excuse so many times before that at some point even Sally and our parents started feeling it. Sally nodded and walked over to the other window and raised her hand. It was so cool and strangely erotic how my big sister could just reach up and close a window I needed something of a ladder for. That's my dream girl, not only stronger than an army of me but also towering over my form by more than a head.

I jumped off the bench as Sally walked away from the corner, swaying her arms in every direction to loosen up. Watching her broad shoulders float over all the training machines as she meandered between them I slowly approached our free weights corner, ostensibly to stretch a little more before getting on the bike, but in reality to take a good look at the bench she just used. There it was, like I suspected, a big, wet imprint of her back, shimmering against the black upholstery. Kind of like a sweaty Rorschach test.

I looked around and saw her standing at the far wall, drinking from her bottle with her back to me.  Cautiously, I leaned forward without ever taking my eyes from her form at the other side of the room and ran a finger over the slippery surface of the bench. Reveling in the excitement of what was to come I lifted my hand to my face and slipped the digit in between my lips. I repressed a sigh when I tasted the faint, yet detectable flavor of her wonderful fluids, letting my tongue play around the digit in my mouth. Quickly I moved to the bike and climbed on it, not wanting to arouse any suspicion of why I still wasn't cycling.

Talking 'bout aroused – while programming the bicycle's computer, I inconspicuously checked my pants and saw to my utmost satisfaction that, even though internally I had reached an advanced stage of sexual excitement, I still wasn't showing any external signs.

Sally returned to my part of the workout area and sat down on the bench I used under the window. As I started to hit the pedals she leaned against the wall and relaxed, letting all of her muscular glory assume its billowing heights without even the most minor flex. Everything about her seemed to breathe as she rested; slowly inflating with every inhale before deflating with every exhale. But it wasn't only her torso that gradually moved. No, every single part of her was alive as she relaxed; her arms and shoulders throbbed with the living tissue still pumping. Because of the strain, her neck and traps pulsed as she gradually moved her head from side to side, her chest expanding along with every intake of air. I think I have to revise the comment I made earlier. The one about nothing being hotter than watching her work out.

I'd say this was in a way much sexier than that; speaking strictly in the sense of eroticism. The exercise, the pumping of iron, the sweat and the grunts - that's not erotic, that's animal, that's sex. This, however, her body in absolute repose, is what eroticism is about: exquisite forms in a sheen of sweat, gentle curves subtly hinting at the power they convey, her enormous body only suggesting what strength lies beneath. Really, for a girl of only 18 years – hell, for any person of any age – Sally's anatomy was indescribable. Sitting there, relaxed, with her whopping physique and its insane muscles under paper-thin skin, thicker and more potent than anything I could ever dream of. She wasn't even trying to do anything and yet, it was the most alluring posing, the most sensual display of a body one could imagine. Selling pictures of Sally, maybe even a nude calendar, would make me a millionaire in no time.

She stood up, drinking the last remains from the bottle and stood in the middle of the free weights area. With her facing away from me I had an unobstructed view of her football field-sized back, spreading left and right to push her arms out. Her shirt was wrapped tightly around the huge plates of thick meat, showing off the awesome canyons of massive striations in each individual muscle group. Acres of cotton covered the wide planes of her lats, with dark, wet stains in the damp material accentuating the bumps on the uneven surface. A deep, deep gorge ran down the length of her back, clearly visible due to the two or three inches of stretched fabric in the middle. I imagined drops of her perspiration trickling down that vertical river bed, disappearing somewhere beyond the waist band of her trousers. Next to her deltoids were her infraspinatus, jutting nicely from the surrounding tissue, shaping a lovely knuckle that bulged from each of her lats. Yes, her infraspinatus. So often I googled the human anatomy just to put a name on each abnormal mutation on my sister's body.

Chunky traps and wide, round shoulders floated above like a curtain rod, with her wings draped downwards like impenetrable iron shrouds of meat. They narrowed towards the small of her back, making way for a petite, yet robust waist of striped muscle adorning her sides. It's hard to believe how such a small midriff can hold an upper body like that aloft and stable; it looked more like a big military tank balanced on a wooden chair. But it did, with steely cords of beef, perpetually flexing and unflexing in rhythmic fashion. Below that lay her ass, the most beautiful work of art imaginable. Round, bulbous glutes filled her pants; tight, muscular, globes underneath the cotton fabric. I made a note to myself to get a closer look at that butt as soon as I could. Maybe she'll go for a swim in the pool later.

Her back expanded as she extended her arms forward, stretching her shirt to breaking point. She then went on to raise and shake, bend and straighten her arms to loosen up for her next exercise. Watching her do some stretching I started to pedal harder in excitement of what was to come.

Sally went over to a barbell with some weights on both sides; the one I used yesterday when I did some lifting. She put it on the rack and loosened the collars on each end, then started taking off the plates. Obviously the 60-something pounds on it were far from giving her any challenge at all. I stared as she grabbed plates larger than the ones she had just removed from the rack – holding two of them per hand - multiplying the amount of weight I used. But she didn't load the bar. Instead, she brought two even larger iron disks – also carrying them in only one hand – and shoved them onto the rod before adding the plates she prepared a moment earlier. I failed trying to calculate the weight she had accumulated as I wasn't sure how much each of the disks measured. In any case she had completely demolished my meager achievements by casually preparing a barbell of stupefying dimensions. I had maxed out using two medium weights on each end which she had replaced with three plates looking twice the size of mine and another even larger than those.

And this was just her warmup.

A pair of large, muscular hands wrapped around the steel pole and lifted it off the rack. Sally returned to where she stood earlier, a couple of feet away from me, right in the middle of the empty area, only this time positioning herself sideways to me. I was amazed at how much closer to me she seemed to stand just by turning 90 degrees to the left, that's how wide her body is. Her arms – or rather, her arm since I could only see her left arm - hung loosely by her side and were already splitting into distinct muscle groups: forearms of strong ropes broadened towards her elbow, where they bundled before erupting in two directions. Firstly, her biceps, which even in this state bloated in an obvious attempt to try and out-bulge her chest. The fat vein that ran down her swollen biceps was throbbing just like my cock, pulsing in anticipation of the imminent pump.

Then there were her triceps, shaped like a very gentle arch as they were neither completely flexed nor completely bent. They just swelled without any motivation, protruding from the back of her arm as she was finding a stable position. With every slight move she did to bring her feet into a steady setting her giant limbs just danced and rippled, even though they were just resting. After settling herself her hands began to adjust their grip on the bar, letting her arm take a life on its own. Every time her fingers clutched that steel rod, some part north of her wrist jumped and surged, receding when she loosened her hold again. It went on like that, her fantastic appendage swelling randomly, with every movement exaggerated on her mighty oversized frame. Then, after some more shuffling the show could finally begin.

Slowly the bar started moving, floating higher on a semicircular path. Already, even after it had only traveled a few inches, Sally's arm sprung to attention and ascended to a size worthy of long and flowery descriptions. I have to refrain from processing what was happening in fear of running out of superlatives early on. Suffice to say that they were larger than anything I could wrap my hands around, arching in wide, perfectly round mounds of gleaming skin. Her shirt tried its best to enfold the growing mass, but was undoubtedly destined to fail – evidenced by the rip in her sleeve. It hasn't reached the point where it would tear further, but already it was spread open by that inflating branch. She was only doing a simple barbell curl – but just like everything she does it was explodingly amplified by her sheer size.

A coating of fine sweat made the sleeve cling to the insane heap of beef, keeping it from riding up towards her shoulders. The fabric stretched along with the ever expanding breadth of my sister's body, enclosing the steadily growing muscles and hugging them tightly. Swerving with wonderful contours of those huge hunks of flesh, her arm broadened with the strain she put in to raise the weight. The more she bent her elbows, the more the two cords rose from her limb; one heading north to model a fantastic peak of carnal titillation, and the other spreading south to mold itself into an inverted dome of cathedral proportions.

Right before my worshipping eyes her arm bulged in all the right places as it inflated from her wrist to her elbow. Reaching the copious breadth of her forearms before flowing into a block of gargantuan scale, wrapped in the smoothest, most perfect skin one could ever lay hands and lips on.
This astounding, otherworldly body was the personification of solid, as her arm flourished to amazing size. Her hands reached shoulder height, the climax of that first rep, making the balls that grew out of her arm protrude in a monstrous hill. At the top of that exercise her arms were fully tensed, petrified from the amount of beefy muscle contracting against the power of gravity.

I could tell that she squeezed that flesh, hard. So hard, in fact, that she seemed to squeeze out a drop of sweat from that peak of a living wet dream. A little bead appeared, right in the middle of what can only be described as an ocean of perspiration, and almost immediately began its enviable way down the sides of that mammoth boulder, running over massive bends and dents. I expected it to keep flowing until it would reach the south pole of that globe my sister calls her arms, but it seemed to be absorbed by her skin; or rather, evaporated by the nuclear levels of body heat she produces during her workouts.

Then the thickly-muscled bunch of meat started loosing up as she let her hands wander due south again. Her tremendous curves began to melt back into their original positions without ever failing to convey the inherent power. As the bar reached the height of her pelvis I had watched the display of mounting and pulsing muscle all over again, this time in reverse. Hard, turgid tissue shifting under her skin, living and breathing, completely at her will, prepared itself for another round of the most marvelous gun show. Luscious shapes like horseshoes and medicine balls presented themselves, as the epitome of mighty strength through every second of their transformation from concrete pillars  to bloated lead balloons, forming pinnacles of unmistakeable solidity.

Once again I fail to find words adequate of describing the firework of sensual magnificence. Sitting here at my keyboard, torturing myself by reliving moment for moment the spectacularity that is beautiful Sally, knowing too well that mere words could never accurately portray the vastness of my big sister.

She went on to repeat the move, then again and again and several more times before finishing the set and putting the barbell back on the rack. The weight was then loaded with several more of those large plates before she went back to blowing any spectator's mind - in this case, solely me. I watched as she kept at it, repeating the exercise, unrelentlessly performing the task with an astounding degree of professionalism, providing breathtaking visuals in the process.

With a loud clanging sound Sally put the weight on the rack again, having completed the first set. And then she rested. She wrapped her hands around the barbell, not to use it again, but to steady herself against the rack, which creaked under the additional weight exerted on it. Again, her body was heaving with deep breaths, making her back expand to impossible breadth. This relaxed pose in its serene tranquility was worthy to rival images of deers quietly drinking from a pond, yet did nothing to get my pumping blood to calm down.

I turned away from the view to have some water, as the last minutes of cycling combined with erotic imagery have made me sweat, pant and also thirsty. Looking around my bottle was nowhere to be seen, which meant that I must have left it in the kitchen. I decided that taking a break from the fabulous show Sally was presenting me wouldn't be a bad idea since I had grown quite a bit in my pants. Letting my head hang I looked at my pedaling feet as well as my package which was still tucked away nicely and inconspicuously. I sat up and stopped the bike, wanting to just walk out and leave the gym without even glancing at Sally.

But barely had I gotten through the door I heard her voice call me.

„Jake, where are you going?"
I turned around to see my big sister still resting against the weight rack. Standing there like that she was so gorgeous it actually made my dick throb. But I didn't let on.

„I left my bottle in the kitchen. I was just gonna fetch it."

"Hey, would you fill mine up, please?" she asked, motioning her head to her empty bottle standing on an adjacent machine. Cool as an ice cube I nodded and walked over to where she was standing. Proficiently ignoring her  imposing, mighty, hot body as I approached her monumental figure towering over me I grabbed the bottle and casually headed out the gym.

As I climbed the stairs I quietly smiled to myself, looking forward to what beautiful Sally had in store for me when I returned.

Offline JangoFitt5

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #10 on: September 13, 2019, 02:49:09 pm »
Sally and me 06 - The Workout II
by nelek



With a bottle in each hand I returned to the basement, buzzing in anticipation for what mind-boggling feats and unearthly pleasures Sally would present me with. And with my first step into our home gym I knew I wasn't
going to be disappointed.

It had been only a short time since I closed the windows, but it was enough for her to fill the entire room with her supreme aroma. Some would think this is the same ordinary pungent stink you would find in a locker room full of men after a game, soaking themselves in the foulness of their socks. What fools. To me - a connoisseur of this, the most magnificent of natural fragrances - this is the most womanly of all perfumes. Pumping iron make her delicious perspiration drip from her skin like pearls of honey, while giving off the most exquisitely bittersweet of scents. Any man would go wild with rabid lust for this mighty goddess when she starts exuding this incredible odor with powerful pheromones from her immense body. It gives me butterflies every time I encounter it, just like this time as I closed my eyes and deeply inhaled the official taste of her unreal muscles and strength. I swear, it would be enough if she simply raised an arm, sweaty as it must have been that very moment, and expose her savory pit of rich, salty musk to make me surrender all my pretense about not being entirely stricken by her awe-inspiring beauty that caters to all senses.

With my second step into the gym area the first look confirmed what my previous intake of air just prepared me for. Looking around for Sally – on the one hand because I wanted to give back her bottle, on the other hand to get a good look at whatever physical exertion was producing this ambrosial atmosphere I was basking in – I found her hidden away in a corner of our well-equipped gym. There she was, dangling from our Smith machine set-up to serve as a chin-up bar, her upper legs raised to compose a perfect 90-degree angle with her upper body while her calves hung exactly perpendicular to the floor. Her face was dead serious. Eyes that otherwise sparkled in a lush hue were concentrating on nothing but the exercise she was doing, and lips that instead of producing their usual captivating smile were thin and pulled back with the tension that seemed to have charged her whole self.

She had taken off her shirt and placed it on a nearby machine, obviously to cool off as her body heat alone had warmed up the room quite a bit. To me, this meant being able to gaze freely at her hefty physique clad only in sweat pants and a tight sports bra, revealing most of the lustrous naked skin from her forehead to below her belly button. As I stepped closer to her stationary form, the cloud of her overwhelming perfume got denser and denser, drowning me in her wonderful stench. Her face was still contorted with a determined expression, completely ignoring the numerous beads of perspiration that graced its side, pausing as the rest of her was, waiting for some movement that would allow them to roll down her cheek and neck. Which by the way, was, in that instant, closely adorned by her gleaming chunky traps and ball-shaped and -sized shoulders. Sally's hands were raised high above her head and covered in professional wrist-wraps, as they tightly gripped the bar floating several feet above the ground.

You know how some people like the look of huge, rotund forearms that dramatically narrow down to a small wrist, whereas others like them rather stocky and fleshy? Well, with Sal I get to enjoy both. Not only does she sport beefy wrists that I couldn't possibly wrap my hand around, but also forearms that explode to spectacular girth towards her elbows, exceeding many a men's biceps. And her biceps, hoo-boy. Her arms, even as the weight of her immense body pulled them completely straight, produced whopping biceps that bulged excitingly with their inherent power. Two hemispheres, unimaginably thick as well as round, rippled with untold strength as they rose to globes of chiseled flesh. Those big lumps of solidity jutted left and right, forming a frame around her head as if they were drawn towards her cheeks. Blood and brawn worked together with a fat vein, thick and throbbing to feed the enormous hunks of beef, running over the ballooning masses to bring her awesome muscularity near the bursting point. Intensely striated triceps fought to match the outer flanks of each arm to the protrusion sculpted by the inner sides. Ridges of cabled, lined meat bowed into visions of pulsing magnificence, with arcs of impossible depth forming giant horseshoe-shaped masses.

Right underneath where her arms connected to her torso were her arching back muscles, flaring out extensively to each side. Pumped lats spread to plentiful proportions, blossoming with aesthetically hardened richness. Fanning voluminously away from their base, hanging over an amazingly narrow waist, they seemed to fill up most of the air around her. In between stood her mountainous chest, consisting of two plates of absolute superlatives, appropriately reflecting her power through their sheer vastness. It was a closed canyon of vertically muscled walls, swelling up and crashing together along the deep central dividing line of pectoral cleavage with each ever-so-slight move. Served on the two plates were her glorious breasts, held in a wrapper of damp fabric that snugly caressed their alluring curves. A thick layer of exhilarating sweat covered all of her immaculate skin, carving out even more out of her already incredibly sinewy definition.

I wanted to marvel at her sublime abdominals, when she started moving – though not in the way I had expected. Since she was hanging from a bar, knees bent, legs lifted to form a right angle with her upper body, I figured she was going to do simple pull-ups. But I was wrong, as Sally was once again about to amaze me with the grueling exercises she puts herself through.

Instead of raising herself up with her arms, she continued arching her lower body upward. At first, her knees started to rise, traveling towards her massive chest. Her absurdly thick abs tightened into more-than-inch-deep trenches as she kept her back ruler-straight and slowly lifted her feet higher and higher. Describing a beautiful semicircle her legs kept unfolding until they were almost completely extended, raising them to the level of her chin. Soon her shoes wandered above her head, followed by her shins before almost making contact with the bar she was hanging from. It was like watching somebody trying to touch his toes while standing straight – only that Sally was doing it suspended in the air and against gravity.

It's called a "Hanging Pike" or just "The Pike". While hanging from a rack you extend your lower body and raise it in order to work your abs to the extreme - either to waist level or, if you're doing advanced training, right up to your hands. Some time later, after witnessing it live and in color, I asked Sally about the exercise. Of course, I had read up on it on the Internet in advance so she wasn't telling me anything new – but the way she told me was worth learning about it twice. She started talking me through the steps, how to do it properly, and how some people cheat by swinging and using momentum even though it renders the whole thing completely pointless. Also, she explained what precautions I should take when attempting it, sounding as if she seriously believed I could do it if I tried. She's just so sweet and caring and motivating, which is why I love her. But what really took the cake was when she explained exactly how the exercise targets the abs. To further illustrate the lecture, she lifted her t-shirt to reveal her pack of marble lumps of beef, pointing at individual muscle groups, flexing them for me to emphasize the... um... something. I dunno, actually. It was kinda hard to focus on what she was saying after she started doing that.

Yet I do distinctly remember how her abdominals and obliques stood prominently in the center of her midsection. Hardened chunks of flesh were billowing separately in the concave bowl of her receding stomach, displaying shredded muscles contained in the vacuumed swale of her unbelievably small midriff. Every mound stood out boldly from the surrounding ravines that separated prodigious hilltop from prodigious hilltop, invitingly cut to lure my tongue into following the dales and riverbeds of her three-dimensional relief map. She shifted her upper body, turning left and right, bending to and fro to visualize the enthralling interplay between each and every pulsing chunk and chord protruding under her skin – some of them wouldn't even be visible on any normal person's frame. The lattice of wonderful cobblestones slipped from solid rock to flowing lava and back, every time she commanded them to. Opposing muscle seemed to play with my eyes as they were constantly twitching every time she even just slightly repositioned herself. Continuing to demonstrate her deeply carved six-pack, her long fingers traced the shape of each of her skin-covered bricks. Running through her forbidden channels, I envied her digits that had round the clock access to these treasures of complete power and beauty. They went along the corners of her beyond-belief-ly etched belly, intended as an addition to a factual talk about the human anatomy, not as a sensuous spectacle of oozing eroticism, which was the way I had experienced it.

Returning to the gym from this short flashback, Sally had finished the first of what was going to be several reps. The whole routine lasted only a few seconds, even though it was performed with utmost care and grace, bringing her big body back in its original position again. I noticed the pair of ankle weights she had strapped around her, actually the largest we have in the house. The realization of her having just done this murderous exercise, her obvious intention to steadily continue as well as the added weight she needed to give her a challenge made me feel kind of dizzy. I urgently needed to step away from this scene, but first I had to put her bottle down someplace.

Turning to the machine adjacent to the one she was using, the one that had her circus tent-sized shirt draped over it, it seemed like a good spot for Sally to find it when she took a break from torturing herself. I could have just stood the bottle on the seat and on the vast fabric, but looking at the drenched shirt, hung up to dry and therefore wasting her superb excretions, I wanted to savor at least some of it. Casually I took hold of the cloth that lay there extruding her scent and lifted it. As I moved it to the side, my face stayed cool and relaxed even though the silken feel of the moisture made my heart beat even harder than it already was. Clutching it, my fists got treated to a feel of the slick, shiny fabric, its touch soggy and lustrous in my palms, poured from the most divine of all springs. Not being able to suppress a reflexive sharp intake of air, I treated myself to a generous portion of the ubiquitous smell in the room while I gently fondled the material, heavy as well as smooth with stains of bodily exudation. My fingers glided over the satiny surface of what once was an ordinary t-shirt, now a jewel of glowing, warm essence. In fact, it did strike me as quite warm, still containing most of her scorching body heat. She must have taken it off just before I returned.

With the shirt rearranged and my digits thoroughly soaked with her fluids, I placed the bottle on the machine and moved away from the whole scene. With my back turned to Sally, hidden behind other exercise equipment and moving towards the bike in the far corner, I raised my hands to my face – ostensibly to scratch myself, but really to rub the remains of her perspiration under my nose. Predictably all of this provoked my dormant cock to slowly wake again. The sole reason I wasn't already sporting a protruding crowbar was that I had used the time upstairs to not only refill our bottles, but also to empty my loins with some alone time in the bathroom. I don't know why I didn't start this training session with my urges taken care of, but it worked out for the best anyway. Getting on the bike again I programmed the computer and slowly started hitting the pedals. The sounds of Sally's breathing and grunting, along with the machine's creaking noises, continued echoing through the room, fueling my steadily accelerating cycling. 

My sister incorporates all of this sheer amazement, something that never ceases to affect me and my teenage libido. I pedaled harder, desperately trying to shake off the persistently mounting testosterone in me, hoping that if I covered enough miles I could get away from my ever-growing perpetual arousal. I kept thinking how it's utterly impossible to put into words what she has built herself up to be: the size of her body, the development of her physique, the expansion of her muscles and the levels of strength she can muster up while remaining this good-natured, soft and tender girl.

And by the end of this workout I will have once again experienced hands-on just how soft and tender she can be.

Cycling on, I stubbornly pointed my eyes straight ahead, slowly falling into an all-too familiar trance where I barely register anything in the gym, similar to what Sally is like during her exercises.  I went on for god knows how long, only looking up when she walked across the room right in front of me, heading back to the bench she was using earlier. Trying my best to focus on the bike, I kept on going for mile after mile, ignoring the warm, buzzing feeling in my chest that I get with every thought of what she might be doing that particular moment and what she might look like when she's done pumping her humungous body.

I noticed Sally coming up to my bike. I almost didn't, but her titanic frame easily catches any attention even from the corner of an eye. A quick look on the bike's digital display showed that I have been going for three quarters of an hour now, time that just flew by. Breathing heavily, my face burning up and clothes drenched in perspiration like Sally's, I sat up and reached for my water. As I tilted my head to drink from the bottle I could feel individual drops of sweat move along with gravity, running down my face and into my shirt as I kept going at a comfortable cruising pace. I rapidly chugged down the much-needed liquid, letting some of it escape the sides of my mouth and trickle down my chin and neck. By the time I was finished Sally had arrived at where I was. My feverish panting, face dripping with perspiration and legs in constant movement came in handy to conceal my reaction when I realized that she was still shirtless.

Choking at the sight of her torso clad only in her sports bra, I coughed up some of my water. I put the bottle away and wiped my mouth with the lower bit of my shirt, turning to her. Sally was leaning against a machine diagonally in front of me, softly giggling at my mishap. She herself was still breathing rather heavily, making her globular chest rise and expand with every other second, as she had just finished another punishing exercise. I had to raise my head to her twinkling eyes and dimpled cheeks, her lush lips parting to bare her adorable smile hovering several feet above the ground. A stark contrast to the determined grimace that dominated her features earlier. With this dazzling laugh directed at me I couldn't help but form a big grin of my own, admitting to my own embarrassment as I chuckled along with her kind laughter.

I tried my best to ignore my sister's towering form standing tantalizingly close to me and propped myself back on the handlebar. Sally leaned back and crossed her arms, those huge loafs of hefty, copious ham hanging from her shoulders, letting them blow up to enormous proportions. She automatically did it the bodybuilder way, with her fists placed directly under her biceps, pushing the already immense balls up to prominently display its curved shape with a fat vein running along the peak. My entire peripheral vision was filled with her over-dimensional frame as her glistening skin shimmered in the light. Having Sally standing this near was getting a bit distracting as I needed to concentrate on the imaginary road in front of me. The route I had programmed would go on for a few more miles, meaning I couldn't escape from this glorious behemoth. I was worried she might ask the same question she had asked before. Why I would spend such a beautiful afternoon in our basement, even though the sun was shining, which would mean having to make something up, like that there's isn't anywhere to go in this suburban area or something else, lying to my dear beloved sister, something I knew I had to, but just didn't want to do. She released her arms, turning her head towards me and leaned forward, looking like she wanted to pose that question again. The tension in me built up as I scanned my brain for a good reason why I would rather be here in this smelly bunker with her than in the fresh air.

But she didn't ask. Instead, I watched as she positioned herself right next to me, propping her body against the machine parallel to mine, coming within what felt like only inches from me. Trapped on the bike I was almost painfully close to her imposing body, having her slightly swaying breasts that gave her bra its grandiose shape right in front of me. Her teats rose as she lifted her hands to fold them behind her head, the pectoral planes shifting along with the monumental limbs connected to them. As her arms moved up, the reflections of numerous lamps danced over her shining arm, drawing highlights and bright shapes on her beguilingly drenched skin. Ordinary neon tubes mounted to the ceiling created a hypnotic spectacle, as shapes formed by her biceps, triceps and deltoids made the light flow around and over each muscular mountain. Once more, wafts of her flavor radiated through the air and at me, not being able to help myself soaking up the intense scent as it invaded my gleeful nose without meeting any resistance.

As she laid her palms on the back of her head, her bent arms produced masses of delicious beef extending north and south in never before seen dimensions. Her biceps inflated like a thick lead balloon whereas her triceps spread downwards in an exaggeratedly large arc that was obviously the result of her last unbelievable exercise. They bulged left and right of her face, inviting Sally to turn her head and lay her succulent lips on one of those titanic semicircles of power, placing a soft, sinful kiss on that sensual mammoth. With her perfectly smooth skin generously coating itself in ethereal fluids, she could follow the pulsing vein adorning the dome with her tongue and lap up the heavenly flavor with a dose of her own sweat. After that she could switch to the second behemoth and repeat the whole scene with the other lustrous, enticingly scented….

Forcing myself to turn away I wondered why – with her standing so close to me and all – it didn't occur to her that it might be irritating, even bothersome for a brother to have his smelly sibling standing gleamingly naked right next to him or how she didn't realize that I had nowhere to go. Maybe it was one of those things that she occasionally does. Coming to me to show off her body, boasting with her improvements, casually flexing, asking me to measure or just feel the hardness of a body part she has worked intensively. I'm certainly not complaining, but it does get deeply troubling for me to act nonchalant when she flaunts her incredible everything for me. Often she asks me what I think, expecting constructive criticism on her physique. If I were honest I'd tell her that she couldn't get anymore perfect and beautiful than she already was, but instead I just make up some old B.S. Like, something's not symmetrical; or that something is to large or too small in proportion to something else next to it; or, if I just can't think of anything, I just give her honest compliments while trying not to seem too eager.

It's all about keeping up appearances. It just wouldn't be realistic if I pretended to be unimpressed with her development, so when she displays herself for my critique I do try to praise this majestic girl within appropriate boundaries. I would be, for instance, squatting right in front of her massive quadriceps, croaking out something like "That's impressive, Sally!" while trying to appear neutral as she grunts a small "mmph" before flexing those pillars of might to an even more ridiculous size. Over the years I have learned to always have a couple of applicable phrases handy; anything, really, just to have my mouth occupied and stop me from blurting out: "You're magnificent! You are absolute perfection! I live to long after each of your fantastic curves, so please, I beg you, let me make love to you and worship your wonderful body!"

Beeping and the sudden lack of resistance from the pedals signaled the end of my route, bringing me back into the room. I took a deep breath I had vitally needed, not only because of the powerful pheromones that filled our gym but also because I was genuinely exhausted from going on for a good three quarters of an hour. Grabbing my bottle I downed half of it in a couple of seconds and stopped pedaling. Leaning forward on the handlebar I felt my entire torso heavily heaving as I tried to take in much needed oxygen. My shirt was soaked with perspiration, making it cling to my back as if glued to it. It felt cold against my sweltering, hot skin. After a while, I sat up, closed my eyes and sucked in big chunks of air at a time, trying to keep my lungs from bursting and my heart from exploding. Apparently, I looked like I was about to die, because there was definitely a portion of concern beneath Sally's amused voice when she spoke.

"You okay?"

I opened my eyes and turned to her, smiling down at my sitting form, red like a tomato drenched in sweat.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice laboring quite hard, as I tried to relax and stop panting. "I'm fucking exhausted."

She giggled. "I can see that," she said, her smile widening.

I got off the bike and walked around the empty gym area, loosening up some of my stiff limbs. When I turned back around, I saw that Sally had her butt against the bike seat, again looking at me like there was something on her mind. I returned her gaze and waited for her to say what she wanted to say.

"Um... Jake?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"I …" she began, but refrained. Standing up she slowly started strolling towards where I was standing. I found myself craning my neck to see her face, streaked with a wary expression. Placing herself in front of me, she started again: "It may be kinda weird, us being brother and sister and all, but..."

Weird? Now I was curious.

Continuing, she said, "Um, but I could use your help with something and wanted to ask you a big favor."

Jake, I want you to lick the sweat off my body.

No, she didn't say that, unfortunately.

"Today's my chest day and I wanted to do pushups. You know, getting a good pump for the ole' pecs and triceps," she said tentatively, smiling cautiously while gesturing toward her bosom and arm with one thumb. "But I need a little extra weight to have some proper resistance."

I didn't know where she was going with this, but I was definitely liking it.

"Last time I tried putting a weight on my back." Sally went on, walking over to the barbell loaded with even more and bigger disks than what I had witnessed her pressing earlier. Pointing to a rather large one of those plates she explained "It's was going alright with a small one, but the bigger ones just kept slipping off."

"Ah, I see what you mean," I said. "You want me to sit next to you, so I can hold the weight in place so it doesn't slide off, right?"

"Not quite."

Huh? This was getting interesting.

"What I wanted to ask you … and I would totally understand if this would be too strange for you … er … and you can totally say no if you like, us being siblings and all, and I know this I kinda unusual and -"

"Spit it out, Sal!" I interrupted, laughing with light-heartedness, but deeply charged with curiosity.

"I wanted to ask you," she finally said, "if you would sit on my back while I do pushups."

I felt my eyebrows climb higher and higher as my brain tried to process what heavenly suggestions these words could comprise. Internally, I reveled in the warm rush of ecstasy that immersed my entire body, manifesting itself in a throbbing dick, thickening by no small amount. This was an absolute dream-come-true, something I mean quite literally, as this was one of my fantasies about magnificent Sally. Using me for strength feats was definitely in the Top 10 of impossible scenarios that I was sure I would be denied forever. Therefore, obviously, my face showed an expression of huge surprise that, understandably, could be interpreted as something other than pleasant. I guess "shock" would accurately describe my outward appearance. My first reaction probably didn't help either.

"You... what?"

We stood there for a minute – Sally with a look of cautious hope and a definite "fingers crossed" vibe in her eyes, and me with one of completely bewilderment. Neither of us was moving a muscle, making the room void of any visible or audible signs of human activity. The usual background music of clanking machines accompanied by sounds of exertion was on pause, as the hidden excitement in me built up conversely to her enthusiastic smile that was slowly waning with every passing second. A couple of more moments passed and she let her massively wide shoulders hang as her face changed to a disappointed yet sympathetic and understanding smile.

Turning away, to whatever exercise she had planned next she said "Yeah, no, it's alright." Waving her hand OK, she added: "I know, it would be too kinky for siblings to do."

"No!" I interjected, maybe a bit too strongly. I knew I couldn't let this opportunity pass, so I gathered myself and took a step towards her. "I mean, let's do it!"

Her face lit up, flashing me that gorgeous smile that anybody in the world would kill to see directed at them. I felt my knees wobble slightly. "Really? You're okay with this? Because it's totally cool if you don't want to."

"Come on! It'll be fun for me too," I said, taking another sip from my bottle. Pointing my finger up and down her upper body I added: "I mean, I guess. Assuming you're gonna put your shirt back on."

Why I said that, I don't know. Immediately Sally nodded and looked around for her shirt, still draped over that machine. As I watched her tall figure stride away from me I just wanted to kick myself in the face for prompting her to cover up her unreal beauty. Surely, she was going to anyway, but if I had kept my mouth shut there would have been that miniscule chance where she might have let me ride on her naked skin in the midst of a sea of mouthwatering perspiration. She took her shirt and held it in front of her, shaking it to unravel one huge piece of clothing fit only for a goddess like herself. Seeing her mighty biceps bulge and jump with every slight motion was making me feel a little giddy, which is probably why, without thinking, I blurted:

"But you don't have to."

Sally turned back to me, with a look of "Hm?," obviously surprised that her brother would suggest that.

"I mean," I added, swallowing. Trying to find words that wouldn't make me sound like a pervert in only a couple of seconds is hard. "If you don't want to, you could leave it off. You must get insanely hot in this and also, I'm wearing sweatpants. And, besides, it's not like you're not decent."

She looked down at her torso and slightly nodded her head, acknowledging that, indeed, she wasn't naked and, given the temperature in the room, she was burning up. I could see the shirt being slowly lowered when Sally caught a glimpse of her shiny, shiny arms coated in a thick layer of her transpiration. Curiously, she placed one hand on her biceps, letting her palm glide over the iron ball, past her protruding triceps up to her heavily muscled shoulders. God, watching her fondle herself, caressing her humungous mass, I wished we would get to the pushups soon, because already I was getting more and more engorged. Then she held up her hand to her face and examined her slick fingers and how much of her fluids they picked up with one short swipe.

"Hm, best not," she said as she dried her hands on her trousers, leaving a damp imprint. "I'm sweaty all over. Seriously, I'm totally drenched, I probably stink like hell and my skin's awfully sticky. Trust me, you wanna avoid direct contact with me right now," she laughed.

I mumbled in agreement.

Sally pulled the shirt over her head but stopped when she spread it over her shoulders. Walking two or three steps towards me she said in a lower voice: "Also, this bra is kinda snug." Looking around the room as if she wanted to exclude somebody even though we were the only people in the house she slightly bent over and added, even more hushed: "It would be awkward if someone walked in on us and found me involving you with me exposed like this. Right?" She proceeded to straighten the fabric over her body, removing her glorious physique from my vision.

Deciding against explaining to her that I want nothing more than to let my tongue run over her stinky and sticky skin I quietly watch her get dressed. The whole motion, covering up this embodiment of powerful beauty looked wrong to me; it was like watching porn in reverse.

"Okay!" she happily exclaimed and clapped her hands together, making her sleeves jump along with her quickly expanding biceps. "Let's get this show on the road!"

Offline JangoFitt5

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #11 on: September 14, 2019, 03:26:24 pm »
Sally and me 07 - The Workout III (The first half)
by Nelek

"Okay!" Sally happily exclaimed and clapped her hands together, making her sleeves jump along with her quickly expanding biceps. "Let's get this show on the road!"

With a quick motion she turned around and presented her immense back to me. She had stood quite close to me, so this extended wall of thick flesh wrapped in a layer of fabric filled every corner of my vision, seemingly only inches away from my face. I needed to turn my head up and to the side to take in her broad shoulders, spreading at least a mile wide, capped off by round balls on each end. From there, the huge masses transformed outwards into herculean arms and inwards into pumping lats. They looked like large armor-plated protective shields, plainly ridiculous in their vastness and thickness, a deep layer of overdeveloped muscles burying her shoulder blades that lay well above my eye level. These two solid blossoming wings followed a curves each down south, tapering until they flowed into her beefy midsection.

But there wasn't enough time to compose wordy descriptions as Sally walked over towards a free spot in our gym. I stood, mesmerized by the display of her breathing musculature flexing and moving in harmony along with her arms and legs as she strode away. After a few steps she turned her upper body around, displaying her graceful flexibility despite her hefty, rock-solid build, and cocked her head to signal me to follow her. Like an obedient robot, I executed her silent order and put one foot before the other, covering the short distance to the free weights area. There, she bent down and started clearing some things away so we would have ample room. I watched as Sal grabbed a pair of dumbbells that even in her large hands looked frighteningly huge and heavy. Smoothly she stood back up with those hunks of metal between her long fingers, easily moving them over to the weights rack. Not wanting to be standing there doing nothing, I also got down on the floor and took a smaller weight and wrapped my hands around it.

Both hands, just to be on the safe side, since I know that things never are as light as they look when my mighty sister's handling them. Not without effort I picked it up from the ground and carried it over to the her, just as she was putting way her weights, and looked around for the right spot to put it in. I only had a second when suddenly I felt the weight disappear from my hands. She had taken it from me and was held this piece of training equipment at the height of her belly and my chin just like you and I would hold a phone. Entranced, all I could do was gape at the tumescent biceps right in front of my eyes as it bulged excitedly while she moved the weight to its position. When I turned to look up to her face I got treated to her flashing me a wonderful smile, thanking me for helping and at the same time not even trying to conceal pride over once again demonstrating her near infinite superiority.

She went on to tidy up the area some more while I walked back to the bike and grabbed my water. Gulping down what I thought was only a few sips I soon realized that the thing wasn't emptying itself as I would have thought it should. I stopped drinking and examined the bottle, still half full with liquid. Did I drink enough water while on the bike? I didn't feel dehydrated at all and I usually drink quite a lot.

“Yeah, I refilled your bottle when you were pedaling away.” I turned and saw Sal, nonchalantly watching me, holding two huge, and I mean huge, weight plates in her hands. “I figured you needed it, considering how red your face was.” she added.

She had gone to bring water for me. It doesn't seem like much, but you have to realize that Sally is completely oblivious to the world during her workouts. Nothing bar a meteorite crashing into earth could get her attention when she's pumping weights – which makes the fact that she thought of me when getting herself more water all the more sweet. It always amazes me how in spite of packing the physique that wordlessly communicates “I'mma fuck you up” to anyone even thinking of disobeying her she's still such a considerate and softhearted girl, caring for everyone around her. Which is what makes me love her so much.

“Oh, cool. Thanks.” I replied, equally nonchalant.

She smiled and proceeded to pack away more stuff as I drank my water – which somehow suddenly tasted better knowing that it came from magnificent Sally. Returning to the now free area near the mirrors I put down the bottle and looked up to her face.

“So,” I asked, “what's the plan here?”

“Well, I thought the basic principle would be the following.” she answered. “I get down on the floor, you get on my back and I'll try to do as many pushups as I can.”

In my mind there was obviously no doubt that even with my entire body weight added she could press herself up and down hundreds of times, but I wanted to get her to talk more about her strength.

“How many do you think you can do?”

“I dunno. I could tell you how many regular ones I can do, but that doesn't really apply here. So, there's only one way to find out.” she said cheerily, positioning herself in the middle of the area.

“And I'm not gonna be too heavy?”

“Naw, don't think so.” she said, with well-intended, but nevertheless false modesty. I knew that she knew perfectly well that she was more than capable of handling me, but it was against her nature to rub it in my face like that. Even what she said next was in no way bragging, but a simple statement of facts:

“I can press way more than what you and I weigh combined.”

She waved me off with an it-doesn't-matter kind of expression, as if the exact number just eluded her but that it would probably-maybe-perhaps-possibly going to be enough.

„Yeah, maybe, I guess.” I said. „You are pretty strong.“

Teasing, I was, like a bratty little brother, who somehow hasn't registered that his sister is an over six and a half feet tall several hundred pound hypermuscular bodybuilding behemoth. Yes, one would think that nobody could ever say something like this to her without it being an ironic understatement of her obvious vast power.

She chuckled, so I quickly added: „I mean, for a girl.“

That made her laugh out loudly. I was only joking, obviously. But there's so much more to her gracious character, as she has that wonderful ability to smile at a comment like that even when it wasn't meant as only a joke. There are some sorts of people in our town, and they have been talking.

„But, seriously, you have been at it for what? An hour?“

I knew that it was already over two hours in the gym. She didn't correct me, instead she got down on one knee. I had to quickly distract myself from the view as her quads bulged out massively, visible even under her supposedly baggy pants.

I walked up to her, already on both knees – and I just had to pause. God, even down on the floor she was frighteningly tall. As I was standing next to her, looking up at my face, I could see that her eye-level was at the top of my chest. She could easily lean over and lick my nipples with her tongue without even needing to straighten up. Ironically, it's the other way around when she stands erect, as she is so big that I could comfortably wrap my lips around her teats and suckle without needing to stand on my toes. In fact, she's so freakishly huge I think I actually would have to lower my face just the teensiest bit to get to her -

Clearing my head from picturing nipples and sucking, I added “An hour, in here, all this time, pumping away, ...“.

I moved my arms to do some crude imitation of working out and pressing imaginary weights.

“...you gotta be exhausted.”

She shrugged, moving her wide, heavily muscled shoulders up and down one epic time, but then shook her head, making the cords in her bull-like neck twitch and dance.

“Well, I rested, of course, between, you know.” Looking me in the eyes she imitated my movements, allowing the billowing muscles of her arms to bloat out in imposing shapes and sizes without actually flexing them.

“And I really could use the resistance for the exercise.” she continued. “And you're rather small.”

I raised my eyebrows. On one hand I felt a little hurt in my pride, seeing as I'm not that tiny being about average height and size. On the other hand, obviously, everybody's small to her. And it did give me a very familiar tingling hearing her compare our bodies.

“I mean, thin. You are quite skinny, quite trim.” she corrected herself. “You're in good shape. That's what I meant.”

Letting her comment pass I asked “So, you wanna warm up with me watching you?”.

My choice of words struck me as extremely badly chosen – did I really just say 'me watching you'?

“No, I'm positive I can do this.”

With that she placed herself on the floor in pushup position, slightly moving her hands and feet to find the right spot. It seems silly, but it actually surprised me seeing her using the proper “boy” setup with her legs stretched and knees nowhere on the ground. But again, the most impressive thing was, again, her sheer size. Earlier I found it odd that she cleared so much space for her to lie down, but it now made perfect sense as she pretty much filled out the entire room she had created for us. I couldn't help but marvel at the symphony of sublime brawn and power at my feet. Excellently proportioned, her stunning body made me gasp once more at the mere hugeness she had about her.

“Alright. I'm ready.”

She had finished shuffling and held her head down, waiting for me to climb aboard. Both she and I had never done this before, so it was going to be somewhat tricky. Hoping it would help me work out how to do it the best way I tested my weight on her by tentatively placing a foot on the edge of her back and leaning in. Everything beneath it seemed solid and unmovable, giving me the impression that I could do a dance routine on my sister without her even flinching once. Removing my foot from her I took off my shoes as I figured the rather jagged rubber soles might feel uncomfortable to her soft skin, protected only by the thin layer of her shirt. I decided that the probably ideal method would be to straddle over her body, having a leg on either side of her and then lower myself onto her back. That's easier said than done, because – and I'd like to stress this once more – how insanely wide her body is. To make it easier I stepped over her midsection first, her comparatively narrow though thickly muscled waist.

My revering eyes were treated to the look of Sally and her wide back of rippling muscularity, spread out in front of me, readily lying between my legs as I straddled her hefty body. I gawked at her ridiculously broad shoulders, formed by the globe-sized deltoids left and right with two chunky ridges in between leading to her neck. Her arms' thickness was unbelievable with her mighty guns bulging massively as she held herself still. A pair of lats fanning out created a shadow over the sides of her torso, casting darkness over the upper obliques of her abdominal muscles. Once again I could only liken them to immensely ample wings, blossoming with aesthetically hardened richness featuring striated carvings ridged unlike anything else I've ever seen. Down the length from her neck to her behind ran a completely visible, inches deep rift like an abyssal river bed. The entire top half of her back billowed out to an astoundingly vast span, that tapered from her shoulders down to the small of her back into a miniscule waist that nevertheless felt beefy but solid to the touch – as I should know, because my ankles were touching that very part of her.

I began moving forward and up her body, realizing quite soon that I had to start spreading my legs quite wide. Arriving at the point where my feet were as far apart from each other as they could with me still being able to stand somewhat stable I looked down at the mammoth mass of flesh below me. Suppressing another gasp, I slowly started descending myself towards it. My knees bending I came nearer and nearer to the behemoth I was about to use as chair and leaned to one side. Hovering awkwardly over her I lowered myself until I reached grabbing distance and placed a hand on of her arms to steady myself on it.

Fuck help me, it was unbelievable.

It felt like a layer of smooth, warm skin wrapped around a solid mound of steel, rigid like marble even though the muscle was resting, not even trying to demonstrate its inherent power. Not budging or moving even the tiniest bit when I rested on it it only seemed to harden in response to the pressure of my weight. I was once more completely blown away of not only the looks but also the feel of Sally's body. One would think I would get used to finding every part of her being as hard as iron, but with every opportunity I get to touch her I am thoroughly amazed at the utter density of her muscles.

And the size of that thing was simply incredible, conveying its enormous proportions without needing to be looked at. I had my palms flat on the back of her upper arm and my fingers spread wide open, fiddling with her damp sleeves. Resting on this mass of hot flesh I adored the sensation of the whole of my open hand not being able to reach the edge of it. Technically, the mound I was groping was rotund, but it didn't feel like it. Its breadth was of such monumental proportions, it seemed like touching a solid, flat surface – much like planet Earth not appearing round if you're on it.

Then, all of a sudden, her delicious stink struck me. Like a reflex, I took in a sharp, deep breath as the distinct scent of Sally's power workout invaded my nose. I had gotten used to the ubiquitous flavor filling the room that I didn't smell it before. Now, having rediscovered it as I was merely inches away from the source of this rich perfume, it came back to me in all it's odorous glory. I kept myself from licking my lips as if I could sample some of it in my mouth and caught myself gripping her prodigious arms as I could ever encompass it. Rubbing my thumb over her naked skin, coated in a layer of her savory perspiration, I tried to get as much as possible on it for purposes that might come later.

The next sensation came in no time, when my whole body was engulfed in the glowing hotness emanating from her gargantuan frame. There's generally an air of warmth around her as her metabolism must be in constant overdrive, but when she's in the basement working out, it just becomes unreal. The room gets hotter like someone's turned the heating on. Her whole routine, the pumping of iron, the building of muscle, all of it turned her entire self into an enormous power station, radiating enough heat to get a medium sized village through winter. Immediately I could feel beads of sweat appear on my forehead. With my free hand I wiped my face before placing it on her other arm.

Holding on to her hefty triceps to keep myself stable, I placed my behind on my sister and moved it around, rubbing it over her to try and find a good position to sit comfortably. After a few moments I had settled, making the rift that separated the left and right halves of her back line up with my ass crack. I enjoyed each cheek getting massaged by the pulsating living seat underneath it. It was one of those rare occasions where I'm able to get a good feel of what a massively well-developed body Sally has – with my freaking butt!

Shuffling around for one last time I raised my feet and crossed my legs to sit in a tailor seat. Reluctantly, I let go of her arms and rested my elbows on my knees, my fingers ever so lightly touching the hot, damp surface I underneath them. There was so much of her back spreading wide on either side of my legs, I was once again awestruck at her dimensions and how imposing they seemed close up. Turning to view myself in the large mirrors on the opposite walls I took in my relatively small frame and how it compared to the behemoth bursting with brawn I was sitting on. Needless to say, it brought back the subtle, familiar tingling in my middle section that had been dormant ever since I returned from upstairs.

“You ready?” came from under me. Sal had noticed I had stopped moving about.

“Yeah, ready.” I answered and held my breath in anticipation of what was to come.

The ground below me rumbled for a split second as Sal switched from holding herself utterly immovably steady to easily maneuverable. Multiplied by their staggering size I could easily feel every single one of her husky fibers stirring beneath me, going from unbelievably hard to sensuously flexible and back to tensed steeliness in a flash. Dimly aware of irregular movement – like on a cruise ship in calm sea – there was an almost imperceptible amount of wobbling as Sally adjusted to the unaccustomed additional weight of a full human being on her back. Even though the added ballast wouldn't even be close to pushing her limits, it was still an unusual routine, for both of us.

A kind of shift went through her entire mass as it suddenly returned to its original solidity. I sensed being lifted higher while I watched her arms extend as her muscles danced and jumped to new shapes of unquestionable power. Triceps, forming smooth boulders a moment earlier, were bunching up to create brindled concrete pipes widely expanding the contours of her sleeves. Floating above the floor at my sister's arms' length my point of view seemed to me only marginally lower than it would be if I stood. She hissed loudly as she took in the needed air to perform, her back arching just the slightest amount as she did so. The journey began and we started moving downwards, slowly, deliberately.

Both her arms bending forced masses of beef inwards, waking the uneven surface of bumps under my backside to produce delightful ripples. As the angle between her triceps and latissimus changed more of her tissue got pushed up and out to tickle and rub against my ass, making me slightly shiver with exhilarating pleasure. The moist but warm shirt below me did nothing to dampen that feeling as it was completely unable to help getting stretched along with the protrusions forming constantly. Each of those bulges was the unmistakeable proof that there was some serious exercising going on. The layer of fabric wrapped tightly around her entire girth, covering her otherworldly massiveness from her wide back over to her humongous arms. The vast plates of flesh tried and struggled to push the triceps outward from their own kingdom but failed miserably as each rock-solid part of her anatomy was unyielding against anything but her own will. The arced lumps on the rear side of her arms at maximum breadth totally destroyed the shape of her helpless shirt's sleeves as it commanded it to cling to and take on whatever form they felt like mutating into.

Her arms in action were fantastic to look at as they bulged and shredded into indescribable glory, inflating from her elbow up to her shoulders. Watching the transformation from massed striated lumps of meat blowing up to dense boulders made me lick my lips for the umpteenth time in just a few minutes. The outer contours described curves that could only be created by moving more weight than any ordinary person could ever dream of handling. Expanding in all the right places the solid springs arced around the impossible width and depth they were every worshipper's dream and I needed to concentrate hard not to reach out and grab those insanely perfect mounds of muscle.

The overflow, not only of haptic, but also of visual spectacles had me constantly worrying I was missing an amazing feast for my eyes elsewhere on the wide plane of her body when I took in one part. Her upper back blossomed into beefy visions of sculptures shaped like gigantic tortoise shells of protective muscles, jutting to each side of her 'rather small' brother. They were capped off by a pair of grab-worthily chunky traps, connecting her stone pillar of a neck to her deltoids. I desperately needed to find an excuse to give her a massage soon. The outer sides of her shoulders were made of thickly balled flesh, looking to be around the size of bowling balls, and her arms were gargantuan hunks of beef as stretched triceps coiled into massive horseshoes. They were guns, just freaking huge guns as she maintained her sensuous pose of holding a full-grown person in addition to her own quadruply-grown person. As for her leviathan chest, I could only imagine how it must have looked and felt like that instant, swelling at an exploding rate to a pair of steel balloons given the strain it was working against. Imposingly deep they created a completely separate cleavage of striated flesh right on top of the other cleavage of sensually soft breast tissue.

But the most amazing part – well, assuming we redefine “most amazing” as the “newest” experience, as the most amazing thing in the room is always my big sister Sal – was the sensation of being lowered by the hands of said powerful sibling.

To be sitting there, completely still, while your whole body bobs up and down like on a ship, only more stable and feminine. Or, maybe, when a plane drops a few feet during turbulence, lifting everyone's tummy and making the blood rush into their heads. This was similar, dropping a few feet and having my tummy jump, but the blood rushed someplace else.

Anyhow, that was the first half of one pushup. She then raised herself up, lowered herself, raised herself again and kept repeating the whole routine, again and again, occasionally resting before starting anew, raising and lowering herself, again and again and again – but I shan't bore you with the details.

About a year too soon she was done and told me for the last time that day to get off. I put down the weight plate I had to hold for the last set and stood up, once more feeling the hard flesh under my palms as I steadied myself while climbing off her large frame. Then, right in front of me Sally stirred to rise to her full towering height, her eyes traveling higher than my own before she even stood halfway upright. The sight was more imposing than ever with the nice pump that was going on in her enormous gleaming arms less than a foot away from my face which made me take a step back instinctively.

Shaking and swinging her arms around to unwind she walked away from me and around the room, stretching different parts of her body along with quiet, muffled grunts. I hid behind some piece of equipment in order to inconspicuously check on my outer appearance in terms of a possible showing of erection and gladly found that it wasn't the case. Turning back, I saw that Sal had walked over to the large mirrors and was eyeing her reflection closely, still extending her hands and swaying her torso to loosen up. I could see that there was some show about to begin, so I took my bottle and propped my elbows on top of the nearest machine, preparing myself to be blown away.

Unaware of the spectacle she herself was, she casually bent down and grabbed her toes, demonstrating the exceptional flexible qualities of her body and defying the outwardly image of being an immovable tank. As her torso traveled lower and lower her legs stayed completely straight, pushing out and presenting her taut backside to the world. The shape of her immaculately round buttocks was perfectly visible through her workout sweats as they wrapped tightly around it. Invitingly cut glutes of thick muscular fibers formed a perfect behind looking like a pair of bowling balls – and was probably just as hard. I found myself clutching the machine I was leaning against, feeling a sudden urge of wanting to grab and squeeze things. Before long Sally had stopped stretching and rose up again, looking in the mirror and the handsome face staring back at her.

“Are you finished with your workout?” she asked.

She was talking to my reflection. Apparently she had caught me idling from the corner of her eyes.

“Nah, I'm just resting for a bit.”

She chuckled. “Why? All you had to do was to sit there and do nothing.”

“Yeah, but.” I replied, standing upright. “You know. My whole body on a ride like that. All this bobbing up and down...”

I mimicked the movements, bending my knees and straightening again. It made her smile.

“...it's just made me kinda dizzy.” I continued, taking my bottle and taking a few sips. Sally shrugged as I started looking around the room. I pretended to be killing time, but in truth I was estimating the minimum number of seconds that needed to pass before I could inconspicuously turn back to her.

Sally extended one arm completely straight, pointing it right to the floor, and slightly rotated her to upper body to one side, thus putting her majestic triceps in the limelight. I could only stare at the excitedly swelling mound of striated flesh he produced by the by. From my point of view she had turned away, blocking most of her mirror image but giving me a good look of her left lat spreading from the middle of her spine – where I had my ass firmly planted just a few minutes earlier. But despite the unlucky positioning and the excessively overdeveloped muscle around, I could still see most of her monstrous arm jutting out for me. It seemed as if its humongous size made it impossible to hide. Like Mickey Mouse's ears – always visible from every angle.

Her gaze shifted to her arm and the fat sausage that has burst from it, shaping her sleeves that still clung on to the mountainous terrain. Blood and tissue worked together to bring out massive triceps, folding in on itself to a dense, longish chunk of streaked meat The striped muscle bulged with insane definition separating itself from each one around by deeply carving the edges to its neighboring hunks of brawn. The swollen iron lump stood tall above the adjacent area of solid tissue, nervously twitching with every minor stir of her hand. Skin seemed so tight around every single part of her body, always bringing out the exquisite forms of tissue as if one was directly looking at her naked flesh. Her eyes constantly focused on that tricep, she alternated between gazing at the prodigious steely beef right in front of her and its reflection, examining it closely, eyeing up its noticeably larger size in this pumped up form.

Happy with its state a smile escaped her lips while I licked mine. Relaxing one arm Sal immediately raised the other to present herself with a single biceps pose. Her other hand went up to feel the vast expansion of the tensed biceps accompanied by the upside down dome of her tremendous triceps. But unfortunately, I could barely make out any of that from my position, as her damn huge body blocked the view of both her petrified arm as well as its reflection. A few glimpses of her face was all I got as she enjoyed the enviable pleasure of carefully inspecting every striation and exposed vein on her exposed gun, jumping with every twist of her forearm. Irritated at being deprived of that gorgeous display of orgasmic power I let out an annoyed grunt – or possibly a sexually stimulated grunt, it's hard to tell given the circumstances.

Sally smiled and turned to face me without putting her hand down. I was hit unprepared with an unadulterated view of her enormous upper arm fully flexed – I couldn't help but inhale sharply.

“You impressed?” she prodded.

Hell yeah, I was impressed. It was one of a cluster of other strong emotions, but I quickly gathered myself and shrugged my shoulders.

„Meh, it's alright, I guess.” I teased back. “But, you know, it's hard for me to be amazed at what you have there,...“

With that I raised a hand and went into a biceps pose of my own, mimicking hers. I do have a bit of definition which of course isn't saying much on a body rather thin like mine. I'm more lean than buff. On my body, flexing produces bulges similar in size to, say, mosquito bites.

With as much over the top bravado I could muster I added:

“...when I've got these guns.”

Sally burst into a laugh so loud and hard, it actually startled me. A body as monstrous as hers can produce some noise, coming from her very core in deep. Something I have witnessed often enough during her workouts, grunting and yelling to get out last reserves of strength. Now it was unrestricted joy at my comic performance that had her roaring and howling, even snorting with laughter. Completely cracked, she had dropped her pose and was holding her belly while giggling hysterically. I put my arm down and joined in, as her good-natured, warm, and hopelessly uncontrollable guffawing was too contagious to just stand there. Shame, really, as I missed watching her enticing musculature twitch and jump along with her twisting, writhing body.

Unable to talk she motioned me to come and stand in front of her in the free weights area. While I walked around the machine she strode over to the cupboard by the far wall, still holding in air to regain some control. Curious, I watched her retrieve something, before she came up to me and demonstratively unrolled a measuring tape right in front of my face – still smiling widely.

“Well,” she started, grinning, “show me your biceps, hot shot!”

Returning the smile I raised my arm again. It was all in good fun but nevertheless I felt like I needed to put as much into it as I could. Tensing my muscle for all it was worth to get out a possible extra ninth of an inch in an attempt of not looking too weedy in front of my sister – but I knew there was no avail. The regular workouts I've been having to watch Sally in action have certainly helped put me in shape over the years, but I don't appear muscular or athletic in any way. So I could only produce a smallish bulge off my arm, barely defined enough to be visibly separated from my equally unimpressive triceps.

Sally's large hands worked quickly and effectively in putting the tape around me, obviously having a lot of experience with the right spot to place it. Mesmerized, I gazed at the muscles on her gleaming arms twitching and growing disproportionately to the rather flowing routine movements she made. In a matter of second we had my meager development manifested in a definite number. Sally didn't even read it out loud, just let the two of us look at my thin arm. I sighed.

“That's quite good, actually.” she said.

What the fuck? How could she, of all people, say that? I turned up to her with that exact question  on my face.

“You're not a weightlifter, not a bodybuilder, when you're down here you spend most of your time on the bike and treadmill and such.” she replied to my raised eyebrows. “Considering that you're not actively trying to build muscle, you actually do have a nice set of arms.”

It was all I could do to keep myself from melting. There she was again, the sweetest girl in the world speaking the finest words of encouragement one could ever hope to hear. It wasn't even her intention – she was just stating plain fact. Yet, coming from her mouth it was such a great compliment that I felt my heart throb for her earnest statement. I tried phrasing an adequate response to such a rousing speech, but I got cut off.

Before I could open my mouth Sal had pulled the tape off and joyfully thrown it over me. It hung from my head and shoulders like it would from a very poorly decorated christmas tree.

“Now!” she excitedly exclaimed while clapping her hands together, making her equally excited biceps jump along. “You do me!”

I looked at her with a smile, albeit a fake one. I say fake, because in my head I was actually cheeringly ejaculating at the thought of confirming her awesome size and fondling her arm in this most erotic state. 

Without any fanfare, as she never has been one for pomposity, Sal went into a spectacular biceps pose. Steeling her arm into a humongous mountain of beef it swelled to a monumental scale rivaled by no one. She produced exhilarating domes of hard meat, full and rich with muscle. They expanded wide above their surroundings, all of that equally defined tissue, completely shrouded in tight, smooth skin unable to hide the bulging power lying beneath. As she waved her arm up and held it in position right in front of me I could not only feel the heat emanate from it but also her rich fragrance catching my nose with its scented appeal.

The curve of her triceps spread to the south, responsible for most of the bulk on that limb. As it ballooned it pushed back a sleeve that up to that point had managed to cling on to the block of concrete and now gave way for an unobstructed view. But the star of this spectacle was the gleaming mammoth peak of unreal size forming to the north. Sweeping to grand heights, growing to incredible hugeness, the solid slab of steel was true evidence of nothing but immeasurable strength. It stood tall and round, raising into the air as a logo for unquestionable dominance, larger than anything I could imagine.

A tiny adjustment, nothing more than a slight twist of her forearm, made it bounce, even gaining in size as the improved position of her arm made the pose perfect. The huge, deeply cut ball of arced from elbow to shoulder as she clenched her fist, squeezing out more mass of that amazing hunk. Tightening her flex, the thick vein running over the round, ever hardening hump pulsated with the surge of blood needed to produce such a sight.

The final product was orgasmic in size and hardness, glistening with a layer of scented perspiration. 

Somehow, I was able to pry my stare away from her flex and turned to her face. It was an expression of undisguised pride of her achievement, telling the world how she loved the look of her pumped arms obeying her orders to move and grow at her will.

With her guns in position, she expectantly looked down at me, waiting for my part in the ensuing spectacle. Outwardly still amused from our larking about before I pulled the measuring tape off my head, right under her smirking eyes.

As I brought it up towards her I noted just how high her arm really was. I did my best to hide my utter admiration at the sight of it close up. A bicep soaring to the sky way higher than my head, perfected by a triceps seemingly protruding lower than my chin. From her height alone it would have been much higher than my eye level, but with that glorious peak on top, I would have had to raise my hands awkwardly far up, much further than it would be practical or even comfortable. Taking a few steps back I stood on an exercise bench, the one she had used earlier, adding more than a foot to my frame. Sally followed me, grinning at my elevated stature even though it barley made me taller than her. Hell, I still couldn't even really see past her head. 

But it gave me a unique view over her, one that I don't get to enjoy very often: the one from above. It's amazing how much one can get used to seeing someone from only one angle, and how different it feels to see another. Her face looked almost unfamiliar, now that I was able to see it without having to look up her nostrils. It was graced with the most lovely features and fantastically radiant smile I could possible imagine. It was similar with her arm. Yet, even from the top it appeared in no way less imposing than when it filled my entire field of vision, with a ball sprouting so high off of it that looked like it would need just one hard flex to bump into my nose.

Once more I moved the tape to the pulsing behemoth right before me. Instead of doing it the easy way, just like Sally had done with me, which would be to to drape the it over her peaked arm and then tighten it to read out the result, I opted for something with decidedly more contact. Holding the ribbon in front of her pose I awkwardly reached over and around her hugely engorged limb, effectively hugging it in the process. Grabbing at the dangling tape I made no attempt at rushing things, rather enjoying my skin brushing against hers. I grunted in pretend frustration at my attempts while internally reveling in the sensations of her rocklike biceps, coated in a layer of mouthwatering perspiration, sensuously grinding against my much softer upper arm. Not the ideal instrument of feeling up my incredible sibling, but given the fact that I couldn't just wrap my fingers around her carnal prize and fondle away, I deemed it a more than adequate substitute.

After a while, fearing that I would begin to appear completely incompetent at such a simple task, I quickly took the tape and tied it around her. Of course, while – thoroughly – checking whether it got twisted or something I took the chance and rubbed my knuckles, wrists and everything against her ballooning flesh until I had probably polished the entire surface of her prodigious hunk of meat. Soon there was nothing more for me to do as to pull the tape tight and hold the end with the 'zero' next to the rest of it, putting a number on Sal's amazing development.

Somehow I became aware that I was acting out the essential stock trope of all female muscle literature. The muscle gal, the scrawny man, a measuring tape – I've read that over and over tons of times. Apparently my mind felt that this was the exact moment to recount the innumerable different outcomes this could take. Odd, as I knew from the probably hundreds of times I have measured Sally before that, to her, this was as innocent as a handshake, just a friendly service like zipping up the back of a dress. Although, to me, nothing is innocent when confronted with Sally, the impossibly beautiful, exceptionally adorable and unimaginably strong woman of my dreams, built with an amazingly sexual body of bulging hard flesh. Considering just how different this whole situation seemed to us, I couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

“So?” Sally asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I turned and saw her gazing at me expectantly, then turned back and looked at the number.
 
What that number was? I don't know anymore. Or, to be precise, I'm not entirely sure I remember it correctly. I seem to recall something, but it's not really believable.

I mean, is it even possible for a girl her age to actually be this huge? To be this epitome of womanly muscularity? And that I'm related to her? If so, where's my six and three quarter feet of height and my hundreds of pounds of bulging muscles?

So, sitting here, writing this, the number I have in my head sounds about as probable as it would if I remembered the tape reading 'a million inches'.

I read it out to her and quickly pulled off the tape, letting it drop to the floor. Sally kept her arm locked in position and turned to it with a pleased look on her face, happy with the results and the contours described by the mass of concrete meat. She admired it for a moment, then raised her free hand and laid it on top of it. My heart pounded at the intensely erotic sight of that hand, in reality a thick and oversized paw, looking as large as mine compared to that immense hunk. Immediately her strong fingers began fondling and testing the huge ball like she had done earlier over by the mirror with her other arm, squeezing it with the not-so-little force they had in them. It was enough to make her grimace – almost unnoticeable and easy to miss if one wasn't to stand right in front of her like I was.

Of course, the mighty arc easily absorbed any attempt to be dented or even slightly dimpled, resisting the pressure it was exposed to. And substantial pressure it was, too, visible by the reddish-lightish marks her muscular digits left trying to make even the most minor impression. The dome never receded, continuing to rise high into the air as a boulder of steeled flesh. It seems odd, but I was glad she didn't invite me to touch her like she was at the moment, as I'm not sure how I would have handled it.

This was all getting a bit too much for me. The look of her perfectly smooth skin, coated in a gleaming film of heavenly perspiration, bright highlights playing around all over the glistening surface, the mouthwatering fragrance extruding from it, all the sheer masses of pure muscle to form that enormous bulge slightly trembling from all the raw power contained in it – it was my every dream and more.

I had to get away. But it wasn't going to go as quickly as I hoped it would.

Offline gunshow98

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #12 on: September 21, 2019, 03:38:18 pm »
Loving this story! You have such a talent for desscribing the details of his encounters. Keep it up!

Offline phil123

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #13 on: September 29, 2019, 04:58:42 am »
What a greatvstory. So I hope for some more chapters. What will happen next?

Offline JangoFitt5

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Re: Sally and me
« Reply #14 on: October 06, 2019, 12:45:16 pm »
Sally and me 07 - The Workout III (The last bit)
by Nelek7

I had to get away. But it wasn't going to go as quickly as I hoped it would.

Taking a step backward I intended to casually hop off the bench and create a bit of distance between us. Expecting solid ground beneath my soles, my toes instead landed on one of the dumbbells Sally had used earlier. The damn thing started to roll away instantly and rapidly with me on it, making me lose my stance. My other foot planted itself on the floor to steady myself but instead stood awkwardly on its side. The dumbbell slipped from under me and robbed any last bit of balance I may have had left. With no support whatsoever I stumbled ahead, bumping into the bench and  diving forward, utterly unable to stop myself.

Sally had no chance to react as I fell towards her, still holding her flex when I suddenly and hit her massive body completely unbraked.

Face first I slammed into her abs. It was like a proper punch in the nose when I connected with a wall of what felt like very hard rubber covered by her shirt. It didn't help the sensation of getting knocked out when the individual bumps of her abdominal muscles, each a fist-sized brick, simultaneously pounded on me. Even unprepared and relaxed her stomach had pretty much the same effect as running against a wall, unyielding against my poor face. My body was pulling me down while still getting mushed against Sally's rocky midsection. I felt myself getting dragged over the solidified lattice with my nose, chin and cheeks having to make way for every impenetrable protrusion on my way south. Though, at the same time my mouth was sampling the sweat-stained fabric that separated me from her moist skin, so it wasn't all bad.

Soon I crossed her waistline, pressed against her monstrous quadriceps, covered in the slightly rougher material of her trousers. I found myself canoodling a gigantic thigh that was even harder than the previous muscle group I had just encountered. The mountainous form of her leg expanded in every direction with every inch I further explored, protruding extensively with volumes of thick, iron-like flesh. My glide down her body slowed considerably with her quad bulging so far outwards and the separation between each individual muscle becoming so pronounced, that it eventually formed a sort of shelf I could comfortably rest my head on.

In my final position I was leaning against the workout bench with my chin hanging off Sally's globe-sized thigh. Its insanely bulbous shape and enormous size certainly helped stop my slide. It also pushed my face upwards, where I saw Sally smirking down at me with a very amused look on her face.

“What the hell are you doing?” she giggled.

Straightening the sleeve over her arm she laughed, watching me get off her leg and flop onto the bench. Attempting to stand up I felt a stinging pain shoot through my right ankle, the one that got bent to the side. It made me wince and groan, even though a second later it didn't actually hurt as much as I thought when I tried putting weight on it. Still, I must have looked like I was in agony because Sally's joyful expression quickly turned into honest concern as she swiftly scooted over to me.

“Gosh, are you alright?” she asked and grabbed my arm to help up.

“I'm fine.” I answered smiling, waving my hand. Leaning over, I rose slowly and pretty much standing only on my good foot.

“I'm not hurt.” I continued, my hands leaving the bench as I didn't need the support. Sally's hold on my arm decreased as I was obviously able to stand on my own. To further prove that I could do it without her help – even though I surely didn't mind the feel of her strong touch on me – I shifted to place myself on both feet.

“I'm just gonna go upstairs and lie on the sofa, give that effing thing a bit of rest. I just need to be careful when I want to put weight on my right - “

A small, not even that painful, but still noticeable twinge in my ankle interrupted me, making me I hiss and cringe once more. Immediately I moved to relax my foot as Sal tightened her grip on me again, holding me up.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I'm great. Well, not great, but I guess I can get to the living room on one foot. See?”

As a demonstration I hopped a few steps like a little girl playing hopscotch. I didn't get far, only as far as Sally's arm would let me. Turning around I looked at my upper arm still encompassed by her large hand, then followed the attached massively muscled limb up to her face.

“That doesn't look too good.” she replied with a sarcastic grin. “Next thing you know is you slip on the stairs, crack your head open, your brain comes out and you die.”

I chuckled. “Feel free to provide assistance, if you'd like.”

Not a bad option, actually. If my sister wanted to offer her supermuscular body for me to clutch and rub up against for support as we climbed up one stair at a time, I definitely wouldn't refuse her kind altruism. But surely, things don't go as one would hope.

Instead they went infinitely better.

She let go of my arm and I prepared to bounce out of the room, but couldn't even get one step away when I felt the weight of a large and heavy hand on my shoulder. A moment later I found Sally right in front of me, putting her stupendous bosom barely inches from my face. Bewildered, I arched my back to put some space between us and shifted my flustered look upwards, where I caught her looking into my eyes. We stood there, with her arm round my shoulders and staring at each other for a second – then things got a bit weird. Without breaking her mesmerizing gaze into my eyes she started to lean forward, moving her body towards me and slowly bringing her angelic face closer and closer to mine. I seem to recall her lips parting ever so slightly and her tongue grazing them briefly.

Fucking monkeys, was she going to kiss me?

Of course she wasn't. Luckily, before I got the chance to pucker up and utterly humiliate myself she had bent down lower than my eye level, putting hand round the hollow of my knees and lightly applying pressure to make them bend. The one round my shoulders slid down towards my ass – unfortunately stopping a few inches above it – and brought my upper body into position. Good thing I had arched my back, it gave the illusion that I had known all along was she was doing.

Even though I anticipated what would follow, I couldn't possibly have prepared for the intensity of the elating feeling of Sally casually swooping me up in her mighty arms.

With one quick motion she had pulled up my knees to the level of her chest, effortlessly lifting my feet off the floor. At the same time my torso was maneuvered into reclining so that my entire body was supported by a pair of husky forearms. Her strong, muscular hands curled around me, reaching a good bit around my leg on one end and clinging to my midsection on the other. Usually this kind of contact would have me twist and shudder uncontrollably as her fingers poking the sides of my belly would tickle me into oblivion. But somehow Sally knew how to handle me just right, leaving any horseplay out and instead focussing on the serious business of bringing her injured brother to safety. Still, it brought the most exciting tingling to my nether regions with the simple touch of her hand. I even enjoyed the feeling so much I squirmed about to rub myself deeper into her beefy forearms, sampling their steely hardness and glowing warmth radiating through my clothes and skin right into my guts.

She then raised herself up along with my entire body, making me let out a squeal of both delight and surprise whereas she emitted a barely audible “mhm” as the only sign of exertion, if that. With her standing completely straight, I found myself several feet over the ground, floating above our basement gym. I took in the unfamiliar view for a moment, but then decided to closer examine the living breathing cradle I was put in.

I started my analysis with Sally's mouthwatering, supple breasts as her heavy bosom blocked most of her from my view anyway. As soft as they were it was hard to believe they belonged to the same otherwise titanic iron physique that was holding me. Firm spheres described luscious curves despite their perfect shape being a little deformed because they were mushed against me. Pointed nipples lightly brushed my arm as her tits were pressing into and slightly spilling onto my body. 

But her bust consisted not only of her tender breasts but also of strong chest muscles, a pair of plates protruding extensively. Pecs, hard as steel boulders and vast like acres, spread in every direction including up, raising several inches off her body and permanently contracting with every ever so slight move she did. Twitching rhythmically with unconcealed might along her every breath, they formed the solid base for her boobs to comfortably sit on. Even through the moist fabric of her shirt it was clear that her husky pectorals formed a juicy cleavage. It was deep, striated ravine between large two mountains of impervious flesh, easily able to compete with her sensual breasts in terms of enticing eroticism.

I couldn't see her arm behind all that or the arm behind my back, but trusting from earlier experiences I knew that, even though my weight wasn't a real challenge for her, they still ballooned to insane dimensions. Her protruding biceps poked my knees and brushed against my back, a touch I wanted to get more out of. All this time I had my hand awkwardly on my chest to avoid having it wedged in between her bosom, holding it like I was swearing a vow. I raised it up, my elbow grazing the soft masses spilling onto my body – purely accidental and unintentional, of course. My hand went over her head and landed on the wide slab that was the southern spread of her solid traps. I realized that my original intention, reaching around and grabbing the chunky trap on the other side of her brawny neck, was shown to be unworkable by the sheer expansion of her physique in all three dimensions.

The prodigious development of her back muscles played no small part in forming the impressive thickness of her torso. When viewed from the side, it's that powerfully built hump of flesh what gives the upper half of her upper body its mighty contours. And even if you didn't need to stretch your arm around the arch of her lower traps and lats, their sheer width would make render any average length limb too short to even reach the middle of her back. But what really made it impossible was the fact that I first had to get my arm around her unutterably huger one. The pair of barrel-sized, bull-strong arms that grows out of her shoulders added dozens of extra inches I needed to encompass before my hand would get even close to her back. It wasn't very pleasant at all to sit like that. Just to get around the immense hulk of her combined biceps and triceps I had to bend my arm further back than what would be a feasibly comfortable position. Then again, that wasn't the point, really, as it was just an excuse to rub as much of my soft skin against the steeled mounds of hardened flesh ballooning off her arms.

With my palm firmly on the solid, warm ground of her tremendous back I found our bodies entwined like even a minute earlier I wouldn't have dared to dream. The feeling of being engulfed in this amount of pulsating muscles and their inherent power was and will ever be beyond words to try and express. Around me nothing but tissue and its permanent rocky hardness, even when not in use,  petrifying to impenetrable solidity when merely slightly roused. Yet they were just as flexible as Sally wanted them to be, instantly obeying every of her unspoken commands to support my weight, making the downright absurd amount of bulging flesh form the most enticing bed I could ever lay on.

They were all-too able tools of power and possible destruction, but I couldn't possibly have felt safer than in Sally's arms. Fully aware of her sisterly love for me I basked in the knowledge she was using them for nothing else than to safely cradle her brother in need to the utter safety of a living room sofa. Olfactory, I could feel it too, being enveloped in a cloud of the deep, feminine aroma she exuded. This fragrance, the natural smell of pure strength and brawn, also gives out the ultimate feeling of security as I was held once more in here muscular arms. Together with the warmth that radiated from her body those made up a blend of things that arouse me to the max. So, clearly, it was unimaginably hard for me to resist the urge to just give into the moment and lean into her, just putting my head on that globe of a shoulder, being with the woman of my dreams.

With my feet dangling off the side of her towering form I could feel us starting to move as she began to stride determinedly through the maze of exercise equipment that filled our home gym. Every step had me rocking about in Sally's grip, letting a tingle go through my body as the spectacular twitching of every fiber in her gigantic arms against me served to excite me even further. Worried that I might be showing my enthusiasm for this kind of transport I sat up slightly to check on my pants, gladly finding that everything was still safely tucked away. I was then when I caught a glimpse of us in the mirrors.

In another female muscle story trope coming true I beheld a sight too good to accurately describe. With this unimaginable contrast between her humungous form and my small one I would have found it too incredible to believe if I weren't seeing it with my own eyes. Being almost at the level of her face made it so much clearer just how huge the gap between my average height and her soaring stature really was. Even from the side I could make out that the enormous breadth of her torso was more than enough to accommodate the entire length of mine, safely nestled between her shoulders. Right next to my thin and soft calves was one of her mammoth arms, looking to be larger in circumference than my legs combined. Made of the thickest of fibres, she seemed to add masses of flesh to each part of her body with every move she did, ever swelling and expanding with salacious muscular tissue. Sally was and will ever be so much larger than me in every conceivable way, never better illustrated than in direct comparison to my frail body.

As breathtaking and immensely erotic the view was, the main thing I took away from it was its comedic value. I couldn't help but laugh at all of this.

“You know,...” I started, turning up to her face as she walked us out of the gym, turning sideways to fit both me and her vastly wide frame through the door.

“... actually, I meant something like, you walk me up the stairs and catch me if I stumble.”

A broad smile formed on her lips.

“Yeah,” she said grinning, “but this is so much easier, isn't it? And quicker, too.”

She turned her head to look at me but kept an eye on the stairs we were now ascending.

“Like I said, you're not heavy to me.”

As if she needed to substantiate that self-evident statement, she slightly jiggled her arms. Of course, with everything multiplied on her massive frame, it didn't feel at all slight as I vivaciously bounced up and down in her strong hold. Yet, not even then did her vast strength allow the slighted bit of doubt to come up whether I was completely safe in her arms. She soon stopped goofing around and held me still again, close to her body.

“See?” she laughed.

I smiled in return and tried to enjoy the rest of the ride as she reached the top of the stairs. Letting out a contended sigh I felt truly happy that I had this wonderful experience, short as it may have been. As often as I witness her do some feat of strength, it would always amaze me – but never as much as the repeated confirmation that she was in fact the softest and most tender girl one could wish to know, eager to demonstrate her sheer unimaginable power in ways to help or protect the people she loves.

Moving through the living room I stole one last squeeze of the solid hunk of flesh I had my hand on as Sally covered the last few steps to the sofa. She then stood right next to and held me aloft right above it, before the sisterly cradle seemingly jumped to life around me. As I felt myself being lowered I could also feel the sensational parade of muscles beneath me molding and moving like live beings dancing around me, shaping and forming like torrents making their way, melting and hardening like flowing lava before turning back into stone. A spectacle for the simple act of what for you and I would be putting down a book but for the incredible dimension my sibling personifies was the actual feat of putting down a full-grown person she had just carried up a flight of stairs.

As I made contact with soft cushions, a stark contrast to the petrified harness I was in before, she pulled her arms from underneath me, and went down her knees right beside me. Even in this position – kneeling, for goodness sake! – she towered over me, her abs well above my eye level as they protruded against the fabric of her shirt, not to speak of her lush breasts that just moments ago I was feeling so very close to me.

“There. Easy as pie.” Sally spoke and patted me on my stomach. “You know,...”

She leaned to the side to check on my foot, looking for swellings and bruises as she carefully probed my ankle. Even though it hurt only a little bit anymore, it was her gentle touch that sent shivers through my body. Satisfied that there were no marks she turned back to my face.

“... I may not have the guns like you do but I do seem to fare pretty well, don't you think?”

With that she swung to raise the arm closer to me and bent it to form a glorious biceps pose exploding just inches from my face.

Her arm mountained into multiple steely crests as the masses on that monstrous limb crystallized into arced forms of warm, pulsing tissue. A mighty bicep and globular deltoid joined together as paired sisters of enticingly peaked, balled magnificence. They expanded outward and upward in the only direction available for their massive growth, reaching toward the large, tightly clenched fist above. The pounding to which she had subjected her body left her in a state of visibly hardened sharpness, noticeable on her in a relaxed state and only amplified as she squeezed out a frighteningly imposing block of flesh for me. As the bulging muscle erupted off her arm I watched already severely striated streaks of brawn shearing themselves into diamond-hard brilliance.

I was the luckiest guy in the world, as in the space of ten minutes I was presented with not only the front but now also the back of the most impressive gun show in the world. She held it right above my chest and so very close that I could feel the heat from that block of flesh emanating towards me, warm like a ray of sunshine. Her immense triceps expanded so much with that one flex that I could feel it bump into my rib cage, just from its sheer size. Sally immediately corrected her “mistake” and lifted it up a bit, setting its peak even higher and adding to the very real impression of its ludicrous size.

Her sleeve never stood a chance to remain in its intended position, and immediately receded towards her equally bulbous shoulder, exposing acres of lustrous skin. Still moist from her fragrant sweat, it allowed spectacles of light to shuffle around the rangy terrain, defining hills and dales on that enormous hunk. The rear view was just as impressive as the one from the front and possibly even more exciting, displaying a whole other topography of thick fleshy tissue describing an alpine landscape of individual, strongly defined arcs and broad swaths of simply sexy muscle.

The mass of flesh quivered invitingly under the enormous pressure being applied to it, showing the immense powers needed to strain and flex the painfully erotic mountains of her biceps. The sheer casualness with which she did just that was more proof of her untold strength. I felt nothing but awe as I watched her easily command chiseled stone to fill acres of glowing skin. Her bursting muscularity glazed itself in mouthwatering perspiration to add an extra dimension to meaty allure, its fervent beauty only fortified with the obviously intense power contained in that rock-solid boulder of frozen stone.

This visual feast was enough for my unwaning erection to finally creep out of its assigned hiding place between my legs and start straightening up into the air. I couldn't actually see it as her mighty peak of flesh obscured my hard dick but I did catch a glimpse through the gap between my chest and her triceps. My exercise shorts did next to nothing to hide my boner and were soon proudly showing an unmistakeable bulge of teenage horniness. Beside my horror I was greatly relieved that Sally was turned towards my face, eagerly watching my reaction to her. If she had only known that my true reaction on display right behind her shoulder, just a slight turn of her head or a look from the corner of her eyes away.

I chuckled at her joke as I nonchalantly pulled one of my legs up, disguising the state between them. Happy with me smiling and not being in pain she relaxed her arm and stood up, towering over me by so many feet. My eyes followed her face as it went up into the sky, missing out on the close up view of her mammoth thighs right at the level of my head.

“Now,” she said, “I need to get back and finish my workout.”

Sally leaned forward and placed her hands on her knees, bending down towards me again. As she did that, her tantalizingly shrouded and therefore only suggested cleavage was presented to me, putting emphasis on the weight and outer curves of her opulent bosom gently swaying just above my face. I had to muster up all the willpower in the history of the universe to not look at it but up at her eyes.

“You stay here and rest your leg.” she told me. “If you need anything, just holler.”

Leaning forward even more, she set her gorgeous features just inches away from mine, looking quite stern. 

“And no more shenanigans!” she ordered in a jokingly strict motherly voice and a teasing smile.

She then moved her face closer and closer before raising it up a bit. Next, I felt her lush lips on my skin as she planted a soft and innocent peck on my forehead.

To me it was a sensually warm gesture I thought only existed in my fantasies, filling my mind and heart with vision of unfulfilled dreams about her and leaving me in heavenly shock.

Much too soon she pulled back again and looked me in the eyes, smiling me her wonderful smile before rising up to her towering height. Swiftly turning around and heading out of the living room she left me unable to do anything but stare at her form as she began to descend the stairs to our basement, following them around the corner.

And then, in that very last second before going behind that wall, Sally turned her face and looked directly at me. She flashed me another smile and a wink of her eye before disappearing from my view for good.

And about twenty seconds later I shot my load all over the bathroom sink.

Forum Saradas  |  Female Muscle Art - Female Muscle Fiction  |  Muscular Women Fantasies & Dreams  |  Sally and me
 

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