Author: [Saxony Red Devil] Melodie *Illus* | #WIP

[fitgirlfanguy]

Great start to your story!  Looking forward to more chapters!  Karma given!

[rodman]

Great story and beautiful artwork. Looking forward to seeing and reading more.

[Saxony Red Devil]

Ladies and Gneltmen, I am SOOO sorry I took so  long with this! It's not even that long and I feel like it's not as good as the other chapters, so apologies for that too!
I promise you that Chapter 5 will be a big one as I have some ideas in store for that one, so I guess you can consider this as something to look at for now. I'll get started on that right away and hopefully it won't take me another 3-4 months to do...real life gets in the way big time sadly ♥

Melodie Chapter 4: How Do I Look?

"Seven". How did it come to this? "Eight...". How did we go from having a nice meal "Nineeeee..." to having Melodie spot me on the incline bench press? "Almost there, just push! Force it!" She encourages our protagonist. "Oh I'm about to force something alright" inner Emerson quips as he musters up enough strength to push the 10th and final rep out. "Yay you did it!" She beams with her radiant smile and that cute little clap girls do when they're excited. God she's adorable he thought. How can so god damn jacked beyond belief be someone so god damn adorable? Her workout gear has been noticeably more revealing lately. She's gone from an oversized hoodie and baggy pants to a purple sports bra with matching purple shorts, which her shredded, glorious glutes have simply devoured. Her body looked a work of art, an hour glass shape of sinewy goodness, perfect supple breasts supplemented by that sports bra, and beneath lay slabs of pectoral beef that helped stretch said top to its limits. Her arms were just an angry combination of striations, mass and vascularity, all fighting for space on what was already a pretty big field to spread out in. She was in pure contest condition, and she’s not even trying. Her face continues to look soft and feminine however, which simply should not be possible. Her deep blue eyes continue to force your attention to them, despite all the muscular madness going on beneath.

"Phew, I was cutting it close there..." Emerson stated with a sigh of relief, as he didn't want to fail and come across as weak to the blonde. Not that he looked like Hercules to begin with or that she would judge or anything, but if he was to come across as a viable mate he'd need to up his game and try to impress her with feats of strength. Or so he thought. "You don't have to try and impress me you know, I like you as is" she stated in a blunt manner. 'Did she just say she likes me?' He gives her a look of confusion, hoping for her to clarify. She picks up on this and immediately interjects. "O-oh no, not 'like' like that!" she blushes lightly. "Like as in a friend, you are a good person and I like spending time with you, it's fun!" she quickly corrects her stance. Damn, I have some work to do Emerson ponders. He's still in the friendzone and he will have to be careful and clever in what he does to win her over favourably. Still, that blush was very cute and gave him a hint of hope.

After a couple seconds of awkward silence, Emerson speaks up. "Uhh, it's your turn I believe" he says, standing to the side and motioning his arms to the machine as if he was a gameshow presenter. Melodie nods. “Alright, let’s do this” she says rubbing her hands together. She quickly picks up the plates laying around on the ground and stacks them onto the bars. Three 20kg plates adorn the bar on either side, as she saddles herself in to the seat. Her friendly expression gave way to a more concentrated look, as she grips the bar and readies herself. “Ok, here we gooo!” she bellows and in a burst of adrenalin, she hoists the bar off the rack and positions it right above her chest. Slowly but surely, she pumps out rep after rep. 10 reps go by and she seems to be fine, aiming for 20. 120kg worth of plates isn't the most she can press, but she likes to do lots of reps of a slightly lighter weight.
The 17th rep comes along and she's starting to feel the pinch, which Emerson seems to find entertaining as it means she'll really give it a go now. "Nnghh" mutters the blonde as she extends for her 18th rep. She takes a couple of deep breaths and begins her penultimate rep. Her pecs explode into action, Emerson noticing beneath his hands that her chest was pumping, expanding ever so slightly. Veins roaring to the surface of what was already a roadmap of a chest, they continued to snake up her arms and neck, her face contorted into a serious expression. A particularly thick vein pulses right down the center of her forehead as she completes her 19th rep.
"One more Mel, come on!" the enamored male urges on, thoroughly enjoying the show below him. She lowers the bar and readies herself. "This one’s for you!" She yells with fury as her chest and arms go nuclear. Her sports bra is stretched to the absolute limit as her breasts press sideways thanks to her ridiculously jacked slabs of beef beneath them. A clear valley opens-up between her perfect pecs as the weight begins to rise at an excruciatingly slow rate. Her arms are in agony as she grits her teeth and musters up every ounce of explosive power she has in her to force the rep. Shaking violently now, Emerson places his hands gently under the bar getting ready to help. He knows now not to actually help unless she asks for it, so he waits impatiently for her to ask for it. But it never comes. She never needed it. With one more low, guttural growl she completes her 20th and final rep. She immediately slams the bar on the rack above her and shoots up into a seated position, sweating and heaving.

“I…did…it” she claims between bated breaths as her pecs visibly twitch from such a workout. Her body almost has a mind of its own, Emerson ponders. Her degree of expansion and level of potential is staggering, she could well become the most muscular person of all time if she keeps on pushing herself. What a sight that would be, to see Melodie so jacked and disgustingly muscle-stuffed that her head is practically swallowed by her pecs, delts and traps.
That’s the dream, but for now Emerson is cool with what he sees before him.
It’s only been one set, but she already looks like she’s ready to burst out of her skin with prime female muscle.

Melodie gets up off the bench and stands in front of the mirror. She eyes her reflection for a few seconds, then turns to face Emerson. She hits a right bicep pose, grunting cutely as she pumps her ridiculously swollen bicep, the vein-popping mountain of muscle blowing Emerson’s mind and nearly his load in his now too tight shorts.
She smirks as she stiffens her arms and brings them down parallel to her torso, purposely making her pecs pop. Emerson could swear he could almost see the middle of her sports bra begin to tear as the blond bombshell clenches her fists and begins to flex her pecs. A cavernous valley almost half a foot thick angrily bursts to the surface, veins as thick as her pinky finger snaking their way from the darkness below and out and over the pumped mountain ranges. She looks up at Emerson through half lidded eyes, her head tilted slightly to the right and maintaining her smirk, licking her lips as she cranks her arms, really trying to drive blood to her chest and arms, while simultaneously driving blood down to Emerson’s groin. Her chest continues to grow a little further still until…*rriippp*…the center of her sports bra gives way a little, simply unable to keep up with her superhuman pecs any longer. Emerson gets to see a super deep cleavage between her breasts that is simply swimming in veins and striations.
“So…” she begins. “How do I look?”…

[sgsg69]

Worth the wait, great chapter............"How do I look", K++. Wonder how far she will push herself!!

[Trinitus]

Love the muscle descriptions, very nice. Also really like the the story, Melodies and Emersons charachters are both well written and the dialog is really nice.

[Saxony Red Devil]

As promised, here is Chapter 5! Much more on time this time heh ^^' let me know what you think, and offer critiques if you like!

“Mmm, you like that?” Melodie coos, pumping her striated right bicep, riddled with veins thicker than a pencil. The degree of expansion was insane, it almost doubled in size at the peak of her flex. Melodie looks over her right shoulder at Emerson sitting right behind, on the bed. She gives him a flirty wink and lowers her right arm, resting her palm on her waist. She then looks over to her left shoulder, where she brings her left arm up and pumps an even more impressive bicep, each flex spurning more and more growth, more striations, more veins to the surface. “Or, maybe you like this bicep better…” she teases, glancing back at Emerson, who by now was in a complete trance.
He doesn’t know how he got to this situation, but he damn well won’t complain. Melodie was standing almost nude in front of him, save for a sexy pink lace bra and equally pink lace thong. Her body was an absolute sight to behold, a masterpiece of chiseled musculature that would make the human anatomy chart jealous. With almost zero bodyfat, you could see each-and-every single muscle group on this French babe’s short but wide frame. How could someone just over 5-foot pack on so muscle he doesn’t know but again, he damn well won’t complain. Heck, he’d love it if she got even more jacked.
She breaks him out of his trance by turning around to face him, with that adorable face of hers, her half-lidded eyes and lightly pursed lips only serving to add to the immense hotness that was Melodie Kawajima. She brings her hands together and hits a crab pose, her entire upper body exploding into life. She moans lightly as newfound vascularity roars itself to the surface, her canyon of a gap between her pecs burgeoning ever wider, her pecs themselves somehow finding even more mass to pump and swell, and even more striations to fill this space. Her biceps burst inward, with what must easily be over 20 inches of beefy female goodness helping to fill the space and make her crazy physique even crazier. There just seemed to be no end to the growth of this woman’s muscle!
“I lloovee it when you spur me on, baby…” she purrs, her flex at its peak. “Go on, tell me how much you love my muscles, how much they turn you on…” she chirrs, holding her pose. Emerson opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Weird. Before he could make sense of why, Melodie was in his face, pushing him back on to the bed. She climbs on top of him, sensually crawling her way up his shirtless torso, making sure to brush her body along his. She finally manages to see him face to face, his relatively well toned physique paling in comparison to her overwhelming raw female power. She grabs his hands, one at a time, and places them on her lower back, arching herself and protruding her immense posterior into the air. “You know how much I love it when you grab my ass, baby” she whispers, her words laced with lust. Emerson gulps, and carefully runs his hands down the sides of her lower back, over her thong and places his palms flat on each cheek. Holy shit, Emerson thought. This can’t be real. Her ass resembles the textile hardness of steel, Emerson’s fingers running over her striations that felt like ridges, attempting to squeeze each cheek but they would not dent an inch, they were just too muscular. What Emerson found most amazing about her rear wasn’t how hard it was, but how much of it there is. Most women would kill to have a rear this size to be proud of, but here she is with an ass to make a Kardashian envy. His fingers were stretched out to their limits, but he still couldn’t cover all of her glorious glutes.
Still looking him in the eyes, she gives him a sexy smirk and begins to flex her glutes, pulsating each cheek alternatively like pistons. Emerson is in awe, as he can literally feel the expansion of her butt flexing right under his finger tips, dancing beneath his touch as she skillfully flexes left, then right, then left…
She lets out a soft giggle. “I’m guessing you enjoy that, huh…” she says softly, abruptly stopping her impromptu twerk. She gazes deep into his eyes, licking her lips slowly. “I love you, Emerson…” she says, causing Emerson’s heart rate to skyrocket. What did she just say?! He tries to profess his love to her, but again no words can escape. Why? She slowly closes her half-lidded eyes and puckers her lips, leaning in for a kiss. Emerson prepares himself and puckers his own lips, awaiting the moment of contact. She gets closer and closer, until *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP*
Emerson’s eyes shoot open. “It was only a dream…a motherfucking dream…” he laments, a notable tent pitched further down his bed. But it felt so real, he could feel her touch, it was all so vivid. ‘This sucks’ inner Emerson quips.
It’s been roughly over 6 weeks since Emerson and Melodie first met, and the poor guy is absolutely head over heels in love with this woman. He sees her as literal perfection, a combination of devastating looks and inspiring intelligence, pure pedigree a result of breeding from what must obviously be brilliant parents. He has tried to lay on hints of his interest, but it’s mostly fallen on deaf ears. He will persist, he has to. He never knew he needed something in his life more than when he first laid eyes on her, it literally was love at first sight. But he had work to do, literal work…he’s going to be late.
Work was a drag, his mind constantly harking back to his ridiculously realistic dream in the morning. “Why couldn’t it be real?” he mutters to himself, fiddling with a pen in his hand. His shift eventually passed, and he was once again a free man, to prowl the streets in search of his next meal. The two have become rather friendly with each other, often messaging and talking about things in general, catching up and going out as friends would. There seems to be a little bit of a spark between them, but Emerson just can’t be sure. He is rather bad at reading signals and cues. He shoots a text to Melodie. “Hey short stack, want to grab a bite to eat?” it reads, he likes to mock her height. “I will launch you into the sun skinny!” comes a quick retort, her reference to their obvious difference in mass. “I can’t tonight, I am busy. I’ll just see you at the gym next time ” came a follow-up text. Rats, his latest attempt at flirting foiled. Oh well, he shrugs. ‘At least I can eat what I want now without dietary concerns’ he reasons, instantly feeling better about it. Pizza it is, meat lovers with extra meat, more love.
The rest of his day continues uneventfully, his pizza delicious and his time alone at home relaxing. He had called his friend to see if he wanted to come over and chill, but got annoyed at his constant reference to “that ripped blonde” and subsequent teasing. ‘Guess I’m watching ‘flix alone then’ he ponders, as he sinks into his couch and handles his PS4 controller. His phone then vibrates, text message inbound. He picks up his phone and reads the message. “Hey, sorry I couldn’t hang out earlier. Want to meet me at the gym in an hour? I feel like pumping the guns a bit ;3” it read, and Emerson’s imagination activated. He instantly imagines Melodie in a hoodie with the sleeves torn off, glistening with sweat and furiously pumping her mammoth biceps, almost crying from the intense burn she’s feeling at the apex of her curl, thick veins grossly intertwining and protruding from her striated surface. That’s it, he has to confess his feelings, tonight. He can’t take this anymore.
The allotted hour has passed and Emerson arrives at the gym, primed and ready to work out. After his earlier imaginary vision, he prays she turns up in a sleeveless hoodie. He feels a gentle tap on his shoulder, and he turns to find a familiar blonde scalp looking back at him. “Oh hey, tiny” he quips, inner Emerson comfortably worn on his sleeve now. “Now we both know I am not tiny…” she retorts bluntly, crossing her arms. Damn, a regular hoodie. That doesn’t make it any less impressive however, her crossed arms pressing the grey sleeves outwards, stitching now having to work to keep itself together. Upon closer inspection, he can see a tiny bit of vascularity coursing their way up her arms under her sleeves. Oh, she’s super keen for tonight’s session, he states elatedly in his mind.
“Right right, you are a unit” he concedes sarcastically. “So, what’s on the agenda tonight?” “Well, I want to try and bust my sleeves with a grueling arm workout” she shrugs. Damn tease, she always knows just what to say. Emerson composes himself. “Well what are we waiting for? Can’t wait to outlift you” he teases, it won’t happen but one can dream. She simply giggles and shoves him towards the dumbbell section of the gym.
An hour of furious bicep pumping action passes, and both Emerson and Melodie are feeling the pinch now. Melodie’s arms in particular are forcing her sleeves to their limit, her genetic advantage serving her very well. Taking a long swig of her bottle of chilled water, she looks over at Emerson. “I think I’ll try an extra heavy set now, I want to see what I can curl while fatigued” she states. Emerson shrugs and nods. Sure, why not? Lord knows he loves seeing her pump heavy iron. She gives him a quick smile and eyes the barbell rack, looking over and seeing the heaviest weights. She saunters over to the 180-pound barbell and picks them up, with a little effort. She comes back and positions herself in front of the mirror, right by Emerson. “Hey, do you reckon you can record me doing these curls?” she asks bluntly. “Uhh, sure…yeah” he responds. What an odd request, but oh fuck yes will he record. He will save, he will re-watch, he will…well you get the idea. He whips out his phone and sets up the camera.
“Ready when you are” he states, camera steady in his hand and waiting. “Thank you. I think I’ll try for 15 curls of the 180lb barbell, see if I can complete it” she says towards Emerson, as he presses record. Melodie then turns to the mirror, and a serious expression comes over her. She exhales and begins to curl. Steadily, the giant weight rises, as does her bicep. If the veins were slightly visible under those tight sleeves before, they were very noticeable now. She continues to pump her biceps, each curl slowing down, each curl pushing her biceps further. She was at 7 now, and she has slowed to a rhythmic pump, the seams of her sleeves now reaching breaking point. If she were to flex seriously, she runs the real risk of tearing her hoodie open, such was the degree of her pump now. She grits her teeth and grunts, forcing the 11th rep out. “Come on Mel, you can do it!” she yells to herself, willing herself on. Emerson meanwhile is standing there flabbergasted, yet somehow holding the camera steady. He was damned if he was going to ruin this momentous occasion by losing his grip on reality now. As she completes her 13th rep, she takes in a deep breath and pumps her 14th curl. Sweat now visibly running down her cheek facing him, Emerson could see a thick vein start to course up her neck. ‘Wow, she’s really gunning it here’ inner Emerson quips as Melodie’s bicep goes insane. With a small roar, she slowly raises the barbell above right angle, completing the rep. “One…more…” she exhales as she lowers the bar and readies herself. Emerson noticed that a very small tear has indeed appeared along the outside of her right bicep, the angle of which he’s standing at making that apparent in the camera. She begins the ascension of her final repetition, at agonizingly slow pace. A multitude of thick veins snake their way up her neck as she squeezes her eyes shut, as she gets stuck just below the right angle, fighting to keep it upright. ‘Seems like she’s not going to make it. Motivate her, idiot!’ inner Emerson springs to life as Melodie inches the barbell further up. “You can do it Mel, think of the extra mass you gain from doing this one extra rep!” he yells, now immersed in the scintillating battle between extremely pumped up girl and heavy barbell. “I…can…do this!!” She practically screams as her arms go nuclear, furiously surging upwards with renewed vigour. *rriiippp* goes the seams on her sleeves as her biceps tear through the fabric, the barbell forced up to the maximum reach. What Emerson saw nearly made him cream himself on the spot. Her arms were grotesque, a squirming mass of twitching muscle fibers with worms for veins sprawling themselves across her gigantic balls of muscle. She holds the barbell at the top of her rep for a couple seconds, then lowers it down, gently dropping it on the ground. She quickly notices the torn seams of her top. “Damn it, I just can’t keep up with these constant purchases of new clothes.” She states in a matter of fact fashion, tearing the sleeves off at the shoulders. She gives her biceps a flex, a pump of unimaginable degree causing what were already mind-blowing biceps to surge towards the heavens. He’s never seen them so big before, he’s never seen Melodie so pumped up before.
She turns to Emerson with a huge grin on her face. “I think I did well, don’t you?” she says, a complete 180 on the serious expression she wore during her grueling monster set, holding her double bicep pose. Emerson still had the camera on record and caught every single bit of that ridiculous display on film. He would cherish this footage forever and ever, both burned into his phone memory and his eyes at witnessing it happen first-hand. He stopped the recording and looked up at Melodie. “Holy shit, you were incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so pumped up before” he blurted. That’s the most forward he’s been with her in ages, it may be the testosterone in the air fueling his libido. Melodie blushes a little, her sparkling blue eyes coming to the fore amongst the sweat, tears and pink tint of her cheeks. “Oh, why thank you. I think I should measure these babies right now, see what I’m at now” she says, and leans down into her bag, pulling out some measuring tape. She hands it to Emerson, whom by now is thanking god for bestowing such beauty upon him. She flexes her right bicep and he wraps the tape around it. “twenty-four…inches…” says a bewildered Emerson, astounded at this mental number. No woman on earth should be this huge, period. Melodie’s eyes light up. “That’s the biggest I’ve ever been!” she states excitedly. “Quickly, my left bicep, before it gets cold!” she says, leaping onto her left side and flexing it as hard as she can. Emerson duly wraps the tape around and… “also…twenty-four inches…” he utters. She’s managed symmetry too? This seems too good to be true, he has to be dreaming again. Melodie eeps and claps her hands in excitement. “I’m gaining so much!” she yelps with elation and hugs Emerson, her grip quite tight and hurting him a little. “Oh, sorry!” she backs up, apologizing. “It’s alright…” he meekly says, rubbing his arms. ‘Now is the time, tell her your feelings while she’s happy!’ inner Emerson motivates, ever the opportunist. It’s now or never it seems…
“Uhhh listen…” Emerson begins. Melodie stops her celebration and looks up him, her absolutely beautiful eyes staring right into his soul “yes?” she asks. He freezes, but looking into her eyes almost has a thawing effect. “I um, wanted to tell you this for ages. This is to say, I have been wanting to say…” he trails off, absolutely wracked with nerves. What if she rebuffs his affections? What if she laughs him off? But he wants to know, he HAS to know. “Ever since I met you, I’ve kind of liked you. Like, like like you know? I guess what I’m trying to say is…” he pauses, looking at her expression, which has slightly dulled. ‘Not good man. But you’re in too far now, finish it off’ inner Emerson concedes. “I guess I’m trying to say I…love…you…” his heart almost leaps out of his chest. That was the most insanely difficult thing he’s ever done.
Melodie’s eyes sadden a bit, and she looks away shyly. ‘Oh crap, what have I done?’. She grabs the hem of her hoodie, twisting it around in her amusingly small hands in comparison to her gargantuan forearms. “Emerson, I am flattered. Really. But the truth is…” she begins. Emerson already feels his heart sinking, this hurts. “the truth is, I’m already seeing someone. I met him today in fact…” she says, almost with a hint of sadness and remorse, like she was waiting for him to admit this earlier on.
Emerson’s heart sinks. “Oh…”

[southbendcarp]

Any updates coming to this awesome story, by any chance? It's absolutely fantastic!

[Saxony Red Devil]

Any updates coming to this awesome story, by any chance? It's absolutely fantastic!

I figured I might as well tell you all here
I've hit a bit of a wall regarding Chapter 6 of Melodie.
So what I've decided to do instead is begin work on Melodie: The Formative Years
basically a prequel going her through her childhood (briefly) and her adventure through her high school and teenage years. All to flesh out her background and shine a light on to what made her the woman she is today.
I'm a shocker with deadlines (as you can obviously see ^^') so I won't set one, but I do feel somewhat motivated by this so hey, who knows?

[Saxony Red Devil]

CHAPTER 6: RENEWED

“The truth is…I’m already seeing someone. I met him today in fact…”. That collection of words resonated through Emerson’s mind, played on repeat as he tossed and turned in bed. “How could she…” he muttered to himself. “I laid my feelings on the table to her and she just shuts me down” he continued, all the while staring a hole in the ceiling. He lamented his lack of directness, for not expressing his interest sooner.

He was instantly smitten by this hulking beauty, her long flowing golden hair, her button nose, deep sapphire eyes and perfectly sculpted cheekbones. But it was her supreme musculature that sealed the deal. Traps resembling an angered King Cobra framed her out-of-place, youthful face. They quickly burst out wide to a pair of deltoids that could be used as an anatomy chart for a pumpkin, with a crazy defined set of cannonballs for biceps sat atop an equally striated and magnificent set of triceps. Her lats gave off the impression of a superhero, with pecs that could make a male heavyweight bodybuilder green with envy, two perfect orange sized globes sat proudly atop them. Her cobblestone road, officially called abs, jutting out with thick veins snaking their way down to her honeypot.

Thinking of her in this manner only served to cause him to more helplessly in love. He wanted her. He needed her. There is no other woman on earth suited for him more than her. Almost to the point of tears, he finally drifted off to slumber.

Roughly a month has gone by since that fateful day. Contact with Melodie has been minimal, save for the first couple days after the admission where she explained to Emerson who the new guy was and what he did. His name is Jason and it turns out he is a personal trainer at the gym, not long employed there as Emerson had not seen or heard of him before. He wasn’t doing much to cover his hurt. Days seemed longer, and he stopped going to the gym at night to avoid seeing her. But still, he could not stop thinking about her. Every waking moment was spent wondering what she was up to, who she was with, how much more muscular she has probably gotten thanks to her personal trainer boyfriend. It put him through a spin, and even affected his performances for his soccer team to the point where he’s gone from starting senior to starting on bench for their reserves side, alongside the 15/16-year-old prospects.

His motivation to attend his job thankfully didn’t suffer, as he understood the importance of a living wage. A few days earlier he was tasked with training up the new staff, getting them into the rhythm of things and highlighting occupational health and safety matters and what-not which kind of helped take his mind off Melodie, even if for a little bit.
One of the new staff members, Louis, seemed to have an interest in keeping up with what Emerson was up to, often texting him to come out for a drink or two. After receiving the most recent offer to come out for drinks at his desk, he finally relented and accepted. “It’ll be great. My sisters tagging along and she’s bringing a few of her friends, and they’re all hot. It’ll be worth your while” he confessed, a subtle wink following. “Alright alright, you had me at sister” Emerson joked, eliciting a subtle jab on the shoulder from Louis. “Besides” Louis began “it will help take your mind off that blonde girl” he concluded. Emerson did a double take. “What did you say?” he quizzed, twisting his head slightly, eyeing him in suspicion. “The blonde girl you used to hang out with all the time, Melodie right?” Louis clarified. “How do you know about Mel?” enquired Emerson. “Well, my older brother’s best friend is dating her and he comes over with her to my place a fair bit to hang out. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she found out I work in the same place as you, saying something about how nice of a guy you were and that I should stick close to you because you know a lot about your job” he explained.

Son of a bitch. He just couldn’t escape her. Even in this conversation with a third party she still worked her way into his life. He clenched his jaw lightly. “On second thought, I don’t think I’ll be coming out.” Emerson stated. “Oh come on now, she’s not coming out if that’s what you’re worried about” Louis bargained. Emerson simply shook his head. “No thanks, I appreciate the offer, but I just don’t think I’ll enjoy myself” he explained, a 180 on his earlier mindset. He can’t allow her back in, he was just on the mend. He knew if there was even a slight chance of spotting her in the flesh all feelings would come flooding back tenfold. “Well, suit yourself. If you change your mind you know where to find me” Louis shrugged, turning tail and walking back to his post. He simply couldn’t allow it at this stage.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly smoothly, with an abundance of work helping keep his mind focused. Once he clocked off though, that niggling thought returned. Louis’s offer to go out. He turned it down out of fear of running into her despite Louis assuring she wouldn’t be there. But his inner thoughts began to contest this decision. ‘Don’t let her ruin your chances with other women idiot’ complained inner Emerson. ‘Who knows, these hot friends Louis’s sister has might be worth the time.’ But that’s just it, he didn’t want other women. He wanted one woman, Melodie. But, a night out with a few new people might just help clear his mind, despite the proximity to her.
Emerson walked up to Louis’s office and leaned up against the wall. “I’m in” he said. Louis looked up with a wide grin. “Great! Thank you, now I won’t be the only guy in the group tonight” he said excitedly. Emerson couldn’t help but give a small grin at his co-worker’s cheerfulness. “No problem. Where is it and what time?” her asked. “Lofty Squire at 8pm-ish” Louis stated. “Done, see you then” Emerson concludes with another nod as he turns to head home.

Hair? Check. Watch? Check. Cologne? *sniff* ooh, nope. He turned to grab his favorite cologne, a musky blend, and applied it delicately to his neck. Dressed up in a snazzy jacket and jean combo, he was now ready to go. He checked his phone for any texts from Louis, nothing there. 7:38pm, time to get going!

He turned the knob to open his door when his phone started ringing. Without looking at who it was, he answered it. “Hello?” he greeted. “Um hello, Emerson?” came a familiar feminine voice. Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no not now please. “M-Mel, is that you?” Emerson stammered. “Yes! Finally, I manage to get to you! It has been way too long, I don’t see you anymore” she states, a mixture of sadness and annoyance in her voice. ‘Maybe it’s because you’re too busy hanging with your boytoy, heathen’ bellows inner Emerson, but of course that never makes contact with anyone’s ears. “I uh, sorry about that. I’ve been super busy with work and soccer lately, its really picked up. I’ve had to train new guys up at work too and it pretty much takes up all my time” he explains. “So I’ve heard. Louis tells me all the time about how cool you are and how you made his first few days at work enjoyable, his excitement is contagious” began Melodie. Your excitement is what’s truly contagious, Melodie. “I hope everything is ok with you, you’re not mad at me, are you?” she enquires softly.

God dammit, there she goes melting my heart all over again. I am mad, I am furious. You should be mine! “N-no, I’m not mad” began Emerson. “I really have just been super busy lately” he lied, a small pang of guilt settling in. “Ok good. I consider you one of my closest friends Emerson, I really don’t want you to disappear on me. Can we catch up sometime soon, maybe over some coffee? I have so much to share with you!” she exclaims. Emerson leans forward against the door, resting his forehead on the smooth wood. He takes a few seconds to gather his thoughts before responding. “Sure, Mel. Text me when you’re free and we’ll catch up.” “Great, I can’t wait! Need to show you how my body is coming along, Jason has really taken me to the next level. Bonne nuit!” she chirps. Lightly banging his fist on the door next to his head, he clenches it. “Goodnight Mel, stay safe” he responds and hangs up.

Melodie, gone to the next level. The idea stirs through his mind as he takes a minute to recompose himself. She was already next level, her body was an homage to utter perfection, chiseled from God’s finest marble.
His mind begins to picture an even more jacked up Melodie, pencil thick veins sprawling across arms that are pumped to bursting point, a mish-mash of striations and raw female power.
His mind’s eye follows her arms along to a chest almost a half foot thick, her pecs almost resembling a collection of ropes meticulously laid in rows, all delving into the canyon she would deem her cleavage. Her traps jutted up her neck aggressively, framing a face that looked almost hilariously out of context to her body, an utterly gorgeous set of facial features you’d find only on the finest of supermodels.
Her big, deep blue eyes served to intoxicate those whom her gaze fell upon, drowning out the world around them so that there was only her, only Melodie that captured your attention. That adorable little nose that creased in the cutest ways when furrowed. Those plump, pink lips just about the only soft features on her hard-as-steel being.
Emerson was almost hallucinating at this point, swearing he could see her in front of himself. He could almost feel her press herself up against him, tracing her dainty finger in circles on his chest as she lay her head against it, reveling in his heartbeat. Yeah, this is how it should be. Not with that guy, but me. She must, HAS TO be mine.
A sudden vibration in his pocket shook him from his vivid imaginative state. ‘Man, she has me all kinds of fucked up huh?’ he pondered to himself as he looked at his phone and saw Louis’s name come up. “Hey, what’s up?” he answers, lightly flustered. “Hey! Checking to see where you’re at, just about to arrive at the Squire” came the response. Shit, I’ve daydreamed for too long. “Uhh yeah, I’ll be a few minutes late. On my way” said Emerson, patting his pocket for his car keys. “Sweet, see you soon” came an excited voice from the phone and a sudden hang up. Emerson grabs his coat from the rack, opens the door and heads out.

Parking around the corner, he heads to the bar. It’s a quaint little building this Lofty Squire, a double story old-Victorian style building with the name of the bar emblazoned across the midsection in cursive. A subtle buzz can be heard from a few doors down as the nightlife begins to pick up speed, the live band playing a chill beat. He lines up at the entrance behind a couple whom were groping each other. Jesus, you haven’t even gotten into the place and you’re getting handsy thought Emerson, watching the burly gentleman grab a big handful of his petite ladies behind, squeezing it firmly. This action elicited a quiet moan from the brunette, much to the chagrin of Emerson, who simply wanted to enter the place. After a few minutes of stop-start walking, he was in. He whipped out his phone and texted Louis to get his exact whereabouts, as the place was quite busy. Within a minute he had his answer. “By the bar”. Oh, duh…
He ducked and weaved his way through the crowd to the back, knocking over a beer and profusely apologizing along the way and spotted Louis, seated with three girls whom he assumed were his crew for the night. He taps Louis on the shoulder, whom turned around and greeted Emerson with a big hug. “Heyyy, there he is!” shouts the very lightly inebriated individual, throwing an arm around Emerson’s neck and pulling him in close. “Ladies, I want you to meet the legend of my workplace, THE Emerson” he announces with great energy. Emerson couldn’t help but give a small, shy smile at the infectious energy his work colleague was exhibiting. Emerson raised his right hand and gave a small wave at the girls in front of him. “Uhh hey, nice to meet you. Also, I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m a legend or anything…” he says, bashfully. The petite brunette sitting to the right of Louis’s seat giggled lightly, raised her hand and waved first. “Hi Emerson, glad to meet you. I’m Stephanie, Louis’s sister. And it’s ok, he has a high opinion of everyone he meets” she states in a matter-of-fact manner. Well damn, here I was thinking I was special, he pondered sarcastically.
Emerson brought his hand out, taking hers in and giving it a light shake. She gestured towards a slender woman sitting right next to her, downing a shot. “I think this would be a good time to introduce my friends here. The one drowning herself in vodka next to me is Andrea” she begins, giving her a tap on the back to get her to turn around.
Damn she’s cute thought Emerson, taking in the girls features. Her hair was long, straight and black, falling evenly either side of her slender, swan-like neck and over her tight navy dress, partially covering a set of perky breasts neatly tucked in and presenting a little cleavage. She gave him a radiant smile and shook his hand. “Good to see you made it, come have a shot with me” she stated, shifting slightly in her seat to accommodate some space for him. Well she’s forward, thought Emerson. But she seems like fun and hey, why not start with a shot?
He reached over and grabbed a shot glass, one of 3 lined up in a row. “Do you mind if I have this?” enquired Emerson, looking over at Stephanie. She simply shrugged, then nodded. He promptly clinked shot glasses with Andrea and downed it, grimacing lightly at the strong flavor hit. “Man, that hit the spot!” bellows Andrea, slamming the shot glass down on the bar table. Emerson was feeling pretty good himself, the subtle buzz that comes with a strong drink hitting pretty quickly.
“Glad you two got acquainted so fast” Stephanie interjected, pointing across Andrea towards her other friend. “That shy creature hunched over there is Bridget” Stephanie mentioned. Upon hearing her name, Bridget looked up and locked eyes with Emerson. She was hunched down slightly, probably because she had a big black jacket covering her. She offered a small smile to Emerson, simply waving to him and mouthing the word hi before clutching her glass again with both hands. Emerson’s eyes lingered over her form a little longer than he wanted to, something about her kept his attention. She had shimmering auburn hair, tied up into a ponytail with a few strands strategically left down the sides of her slightly flushed cheeks. A small spatter of freckles adorned the bridge of her nose, further serving to accentuate and really increase the cuteness of this girl.
After a couple of seconds of assessing each other, Bridget acutely broke her gaze, a very subtle blush forming across her cheeks as she downed a little more of her glass. ‘God damn, now she’s cute’ quipped inner Emerson as he realized he better say something. “Hi Bridget, pleasure to meet you” he said, hoping to elicit a response. She immediately looked back up him, big emerald-coloured eyes also shimmering in the dimly lit room. “Hi, pleasures mine” she shyly responded, a small stutter at hi endearing herself to him further.

“Alright, glad introductions have concluded!” Louis exclaims, jumping back in to relevance while draping an arm over Emerson’s shoulder. “Em, come with me to the atm?” suggests Louis, flashing his bank card. Emerson glances back at the three girls for a brief moment, then looks at Louis. “Sure, lead the way” he agrees. They walk through the crowded dance floor to the other side of the room, where the atm was placed next to the bathrooms. Odd placement.
Louis inserts his card and withdraws his cash. They’re about to head back when Louis grabs hold of Emerson’s shoulder. “Hold up, gotta ask you something” he begins. “Sure, what is it?” responds Emerson, curious. “That girl, Andrea. Do you reckon I have a shot with her?” he asks. “She’s only recently become friends with Steph” he concludes. Emerson pauses for a second in thought. “I don’t think it’s wise to have a crack at your sister’s friends” he says truthfully. “I know what you mean but man, it’s like love at first sight y’know? She just strikes all the right chords for me” Louis admits, a look of hope in his eyes that Emerson can see it from his point of view.
He can, he really can. That fluttering feeling you get when you first lay eyes on someone who just meets whatever standards you subconsciously set for yourself, how the world drowns itself out and it’s only her. That long, flowing golden hair. Those big, beautiful eyes. That impossibly muscular and sculpted physique… Emerson snaps out of his wonder as he looks back down at Louis and offers a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I get you” he concurs. Louis’s eyes light up with hope, a big smile spreading itself across his face. “So glad you do man. Now from what I know, her and Bridget are really close friends. Sooo, I wondered if you could do a little wing-manning for me…” gestures Louis. Emerson cocks an eyebrow at him, turning his face slightly to add to his suspicion. “You want me to take on Bridget?” he asks. “Exactly. She’s Andrea’s best friend, so having in with her would create an opening for me. Here’s my plan: You chat Bridget up a bit, get a rapport going. Then if you’re able to secure a date, either I come in and suggest a double date with Andrea or you can somehow work that in yourself.” Louis schemed. “I don’t think that is an even remotely decent plan, considering we don’t even know if they have boyfriends, or they’re lesbians or something” rebutted Emerson. “They’re single and straight, I checked with my sister” Louis bounced right back. Odd that he would check, even odder that his sister obliged his obvious curiosity. “Can I at least get some drinks in first, ingest some liquid confidence?” Emerson asks. Louis simply nods and gestures his arms towards the bar, as if he was a matador guiding a bull.

The guys return to the scene, with operation Double-Date a go. The next half-hour is spent finding out about everyone and chuckling at really bad jokes only tipsy people laugh at. Throughout all of this, however, Emerson weighed up whether-or-not he wanted to go through with this. He did still harbor very strong feelings for Melodie, almost choosing to hold out in the hopes she breaks up the guy she’s seeing so he can pounce. But on the other hand, this girl Bridget is really cute and could be just the distraction from the impressive blonde he needed. He decided why not, this kind of opportunity doesn’t come around every day.
After finishing the froth of his 4th beer, he worked up the courage to offer Bridget a hand to guide her to the dancefloor. Thankfully, she obliged as her own inebriation had brought about a newfound sense of promiscuity. And so, the operation was in full swing.

The dancing started off tentatively, with both engaged parties simply getting into the groove and slowly synchronizing their movements. A few songs in, it was Bridget who made the first move. She stepped in closer to Emerson, looking right up at him. Her movements slowed to a sway, her hips sensually swinging side to side along to the slowed down beat of the new song blaring through the speakers. Emerson took this as his cue to touch her, gazing upon her lightly flushed features as his hands found her hips, his own rhythm slowing to match hers. To Emerson’s surprise, her hips felt surprisingly firm, an obvious dipped ridge between her hips and waist became apparent. His index fingers fell into this familiar space, as he started tracing his hands up her waist. Her body just kept getting wider as his hands rode upwards, which came as another surprise to him as he started sliding under her jacket and reaching around to the middle of her back, pulling her in closer. It was here Emerson got his real surprise. Her back muscles had ridges…she had back muscles! Not monstrous and obvious like Melodie’s mind you, but enough to suggest that this girl does indeed lift weights. Emerson’s curiosity sky-rocketed as he started to explore the surprisingly open terrain of her warm-to-touch skin, reveling in her surprisingly toned up physique. Now he had to see it for himself, what was she hiding under that jacket?
He looked back at her eyes and was surprised by her expression. It had a look of concern, almost as if he shouldn’t have gone there. He gazed upon her facial features for a moment before relenting and retreating his hands back down, meeting them across her lower back as their bodies electrified between themselves.
“You have quite the back there” Emerson stated, impressed by her. She softened her concerned expression slightly, still tentative herself. “Thank you, I guess.” Was her response. She’s definitely worried about me being freaked out by her physique…how adorable thought Emerson. Well, time to allay those fears. “I think it’s awesome, I’m really impressed” continued Emerson, flashing her a reassuring smile. Her face immediately brightened up, a semi smile returning to her reddened face. “You mean it?” she asks. “I do. I workout regularly myself, so I can appreciate a little hard work on one’s body” he responds, a wink escaping as their swaying mixed into closed-in dance moves.
She was eliciting a broader smile now, as she was starting to come out of her shell again. “I appreciate it, really. I don’t often get compliments about my body. Well, not ones that aren’t creepy” she confesses. “Well you’ll be getting nothing but compliments out of me. If I’m honest with you, I do like my girls with a little muscle on their bones…in a totally non-creepy way” he teases, flashing a somewhat mocking grin. She chuckles lightly, attempting poorly to hide her amusement. “I’m honestly relieved to hear that Emerson, really. Stephanie told me her brother was bringing his friend along and I got nervous, so I brought this jacket to cover up. It’s hot, but I would rather sweat a little than be chastised or judged for my body…” she admits, a hint of sadness simmering in her eyes. She’s melting me, inner Emerson expresses. “Again, you won’t get any bad vibes from me, I like what you do and wholly encourage it” he professes, his feelings toward the matter freely projecting on to her.

He decided the dance floor was no longer the appropriate place for them, and suggested they make their way back to the bar for more drinks. She obliged and they began shuffling their way through the packed space, Emerson shifting a quick glance across to spot Louis. Once again, Emerson was surprised as he spotted Louis and Andrea dirty dancing with each other! So much for the operation…he’s fine. All he needed was enough liquid confidence, although Emerson suspected that Andrea has had more than her fair share of drinks and that at this point would probably dance against a wall with the same level of promiscuity.

After buying her a Carlsberg (at her request and his amusement), they found a spot at one end of the bar. “So, you enjoy working out. How long have you been at it?” Emerson asks, taking a small swig from his own Carlsberg. “Well” she begins. “I’ve been working out for a good decade now, I started when I was 15. I’ve always had this fascination with the human body, the way muscles grow and move. I picked up a weight and never put it down since” she confesses, shrugging at the end. Emerson was definitely immersed into the conversation now. “How about you? You’re no slouch yourself it seems” she enquires, gently squeezing his right bicep. Emerson gives her a quick tense of his arm, a bicep quickly perking up. Bridget’s eyes looked intently for a brief moment, before quickly looking back up at him. “Well, I have been working out casually myself. As for when I started, not quite sure. All I know is I’ve done it for a while” he states, looking down at his right arm as he gives a few testing pumps. Bridget nods and tugs at her collar a bit. “It is really hot in here now” she says, as she downs more of her drink.

“Well, shall we take a small walk along the street?” Emerson offers, finishing up the remainder of his. She smiles warmly at Emerson, nodding gently. “But what about the others?” she asks. Emerson waves his hand about in the air dismissively. “I’m sure they’ll be fine; Louis and Andrea are hitting it off and I’m sure Stephanie is floating around somewhere.” He concludes. She promptly completes the rest of drink, grabs her purse and heads for the exit with Emerson. As they approach the exit, they spot Stephanie sitting next to a guy off to the left. They were seated really close to each other, chatting away as if they’d known each other forever. Bridget guides Emerson over to her friend to let her know she’s stepping out, to which Stephanie simply nods, stands up and gives her a hug and kiss on the cheek.

Outside, the air was now brisk. Emerson and Bridget continued to walk along the main road, staying within the lit-up sections of the street. “Good thing you brought that jacket, it’s fresh” Emerson pointed out. “Yeah, sometimes things just fall into place, right?” responded Bridget, reveling in the fresh air. That sentence reverberated through him a little, maybe this was more than a chance encounter? He quickly dropped that thought and continued the conversation along. “Right. So, do you work? Study?” he asked her. “I finished my studies last year actually, took a little break. Went on holiday and saw Europe for a bit, the usual. I’ve just gotten a job as a teacher” she replied. “Ah, so you like subjecting yourself to mental torture on the daily” teases Emerson. This elicits a light snort from Bridget, who shoves him lightly. Emerson however was pushed a little further away than he expected to be. She’s strong, hmmm…
“That’s so not true! I love teaching. To be able to shape young minds and prepare them for the future is so cool. They look up to you like you’re the greatest thing ever, an unassailable figure of knowledge. Plus, I love kids and plan to have some of my own in the future” she rebuts passionately, building a head of steam. Emerson couldn’t help but grin goofily at this display, slowing his pace and strolling with her by his side. “Alright ok, point taken” he says, slipping his hands into his pockets. Bridget leans in a little closer looking to steal a little warmth from Emerson. He obliges by removing his right hand from his pocket and draping his arm over her shoulder. Bridget took this well, using the opportunity to lean in closer, as their stroll slowed to a crawl. Amidst this momentary silence, Emerson wrapped his hand around her jacket shoulder, hoping to feel out her musculature a little more. He began to knead it and came to the realization that it was big, round and firm. His curiosity and arousal began to rise; how muscular is she?

His mind began to wander in that brief moment. She was in no way bigger than Melodie, that much was obvious. But, her frame was wide and she is shorter than Mel, which in itself is very impressive as Melodie is 5’2. She had to be no taller than 5’0 surely, but he’d find out later. He was broken out of his pondering by a light voice from below. “You seem to be enjoying yourself there. Not that I’m complaining, I could do with a shoulder massage” Bridget teased, giggling lightly. Crap, I did trail off didn’t I? Pondered Emerson.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was just lost in thought for a moment” he explained. She smirks lightly. “What were you thinking of? Was it this?” She coos, grabbing Emerson’s hand from her shoulder and sliding it down her jacket sleeve and over her bicep. She then curls her forearm up and flexes, a bicep prominently surging to its peak and tightening her sleeve. Emerson’s mind instantly began to race with indecent thoughts, as he enjoyed the hardness of the bicep beneath his fingers, squeezing it firmly. It did not budge an inch, proudly resisting his grip. “You know, it kind of excited me to find out that you were into girls with muscles” began Bridget, casually pumping her bicep. “I don’t know if it’s just the alcohol flowing through me but I feel like I can open up to you, to show you my body in full…without judgement” she concluded, looking up at him hopefully.
Emerson suddenly stopped touching and looked back at her. “Are you…suggesting something?” he asks, knowing the answer but just seeking confirmation. “I don’t know, maybe?” She responds with a shrug of her shoulders and a warm smile. Emerson took this opportunity to be a little more forward now, he simply had to see her in the buff. “Well, we can always head back to my place and make sure this feeling is concrete…” Emerson probed. Bridget’s eyes lit up and took his hand in hers. “Sure, lead the way” she agrees.

They head back to Emerson’s car. The walk helped to sober him up a little, but he was always a good drinker so he figured he’d be fine. As he fumbled his keys around to unlock his car, he glanced over at Bridget. The dim carpark lighting helped create a sort of romantic ambience, well as romantic as standing in a cold carpark can be. Her freckles were splattered across her nose, like powder was blown across it. Her eyes shimmered, looking down at her jacket as she began to unzip it. Emerson managed to finally get the button to unlock his car doors. They clambered in, and Emerson immediately turned on the car and set the heater up to full blast to combat the chill that had set in.
“Are you trying to get me to take my jacket off?” Bridget asked, a bit of teasing in her voice. Emerson looked back at her. “I was genuinely cold and needed to heat up, but I like your thought better” he responded, tongue-in-cheek. Bridget giggled cutely and brushed a loose strand from her fiery locks. “Well it’s working, I need to get this thing off” she states, wriggling herself free. Whatever suspicions Emerson had of this girl being built before were completely founded now. Bridget was built. She was wearing a sleeveless halter top with a high neckline, which unfortunately covered up her chest. She was definitely packing under that top though, sizeable breasts perked up against the fabric. Looking down, he guessed that her arms had to be at least 14-15 inches, falling well short of Melodie but still astoundingly impressive and arousing. What surprised him was her conditioning. It almost looked like she had a competition coming up in about a month, visible cuts separating her deltoids from her biceps, and her biceps from her triceps. Her forearms had subtle guitar strings, which strummed gently as she handled her jacket.
After what seemed an eternity to sort it out, she finally placed her jacket on her lap. She took a deep breath, which served to strain her chest against the ever-tightening fabric of her top. She glanced over towards Emerson and caught him staring. “Finally, free. My arms were starting to feel so uncomfortable in that thing” she says, rubbing her triceps tenderly. She gives them a quick flex, and they burst into life. A familiar horse shoe shape surfaced, with subtle striations lining it. She looks back up at Emerson, this time with a sultry look. “You like what you see, Emerson?” she coos, as she pumps her arm a few times. A thick vein travelling across the peak of her bicep was visible, throbbing with surprising power.
Emerson simply nodded, his mouth slightly agape. Bridget giggles lightly. “Well, wait till you see the rest of me, as I can’t wait to see what you’re packing…” she whispers sexily. Emerson’s member almost leaps at full attention upon hearing this. He needs to get home, and fast.
He regains his composure. “Sure, let’s get going…” he states.