Eve

[madsoam2]

Well, here we go again.  Another story that started to form before I completed the next chapter in my other story.  Hopefully folks don't mind.  I hope this is enjoyable.

Eve [Part 1]

"Take a left here," said Mark, pointing to the entrance to the subdivision.

I followed his direction and turned the car into the corner, wincing for the thousandth time as I listened to the boxes slide yet again in the cargo area of my hatchback and thud against the inside wall of the car.  I was eager to rid myself of that irritant after the last six hours of driving to get to Mark's house in St Paul.

"I appreciate the ride home.  If I'd have hitched a ride with Christy, I would've had to sell or donate some of my stuff at school.  Her car was packed already."

"No worries, man.  This is a good opportunity for me...so I should be thanking you."

It was our last Spring Break, since we were both seniors this year.  Although it was tempting to do one last trip somewhere, I fought my base temptations to goof off when I found out my buddy's dad was the director of digital marketing for a huge firm in Minneapolis, and he agreed to connect me so I could meet him.  I really needed to secure a job after graduation, so I couldn't miss an opportunity like this.  He said he'd let me crash at his mom's place with him if I could drive him home.  It seemed like a good deal to me. 

"OK, her house is up on the right there.  See the light brown ranch on the corner, with the fence?"

"Got it."  The house was pretty modest, but appeared to be nicely maintained despite all the snow.  There was a Jeep Cherokee parked in the driveway, "Should I park in the street, or can I pull into the driveway?"

"My mom must be home from work already.  She probably left early so she could meet us.  Go ahead and pull into the driveway.  It's only her, so you're not blocking anyone if you park there."

Mark's mom.  She had intrigued me the entire drive, and I had no idea what to expect.  When we were packing the car, Abe came up to me when Mark was getting his last load and asked me if I had ever met Mark's mom, Eve.  When I told him I hadn't, since I had only really gotten to know Mark in our senior year when we ended up as housemates off-campus, Abe flashed this strange grin that I couldn't really decipher.  Abe had known Mark all through college since he was his first roommate their freshman year in the dorms, and he said he met Mark's mom when he first showed up to move in.  He wouldn't tell me why he had even brought up this question, despite my prodding him.  He just laughed and said that he wanted to make sure we talked when I was back so I could tell him what I thought.  Ever since then, I was kind of obsessing over what the big deal over Mark's mom could possibly be.  Mark didn't bring her up at all, and didn't seem to feel any need to prepare me for her, so I was completely in the dark.  When I asked about her, all I learned was that she was a nurse.  I already knew that she and Mark's dad had been divorced for many years.  Beyond these facts, I had nothing.  Maybe Abe was just messing with me, but I found my curiosity building steadily as we neared his house.

Mark fished out his keys as we made our way up the shoveled sidewalk to the front door.  He led me in, walking into his childhood house as he probably always did a million times before. 

"Mom, we're here!"

I heard a voice come from the back of the house.  "Mark!  I'm so glad you made it safely."  His mom emerged from around a corner, apparently from the kitchen, and she walked toward us with a big welcoming smile.  Since I had been anticipating this moment for the last six hours or so, I admit that I was scanning this woman for clues that might make her so remarkable to Abe.  Nothing really jumped out at me. 

She was pretty, but not take-your-breath away gorgeous.  She had long auburn hair pulled into a messy pony tail.  She was not wearing any make-up, and her bright smile at seeing Mark gave her face had a youthful gleam, although as she got closer I could see the character lines that marked that she was indeed of a mature age.  She had a pretty strong jaw that didn't take away from her attractiveness, but it was a feature that definitely stood out to me.  She was wearing scrubs, which I guess I had expected when Mark informed me that she was a nurse, but was also wearing a hefty fleece pull-over top with a "United Hospital" insignia on it.  She was not very tall, perhaps five foot three, but she was not what I would consider petite.  I surmised that she looked pretty fit, as I could tell her hips seemed slender, although beyond that I couldn't really tell much about her build.  I guessed that she was somewhere around fifty years old.  She gave Mark a big hug once she reached us. 

"Good to see you, mom."  He nodded toward me, "This is Jon."

"Hi Jon.  Thanks for bringing Mark home.  I hope the drive was OK."  Eve had a slightly raspy voice, although perhaps she was getting over a cold or just was affected by the chilly air during the Minnesota winter.  She extended her hand to me and I shook it.  I was taken a bit by surprise at how firm her handshake was.  I know how to shake a hand, and I generally prepare for an appropriately firm grip, although with women I usually took a little bit off to be polite.  I was making eye contact with her, but I had to fight the temptation to look down at the unexpected pressure.  I registered a roughness in her palm and fingers, like someone who did a lot of manual work.  Was this some clue to the mystery Abe had hinted at?

"It is nice to meet you Ms. Rodriguez.  Thanks for letting me stay here with you guys during break."

"My pleasure.  Call me Eve, please." She let go of my hand and started back towards the kitchen as we followed.  I couldn't help but look down to see the roundness of her butt, evident through her otherwise formless scrub pants, and this impressed me in light of her trim hips.  I chastised myself for physically appraising my friend's mom, though.  "Are you boys hungry?  It is a little early, but I could get dinner started if you'd like."

Mark answered, "Nah, we grabbed something on the way up."

"Oh, OK.  Do you want anything to drink?  Pop? Water?  Maybe a beer?"

Mark looked at me, then turned to his mom, "Sure, I'll take a beer.  Jon?"

"OK, sounds good."

Eve opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles.  I caught a glimpse of stacks of containers in the fridge, which seemed kind of odd for a woman who lived alone.  Why would she have so much leftover food?  She popped the bottle caps off with an opener from the drawer and handed one to each of us with a smile, "I still feel kinda weird having an adult son that drinks...well, drinks around me," she winked at me with a knowing expression with this comment, "I'm not old enough for that!"  I noticed she was drinking from a large, insulated thermos on the counter.  My guess was that it was filled with water, because I could hear ice cubes inside it when she moved it to take a drink from the built-in straw.

We sat on a couple of barstools at the kitchen counter while Eve chatted with us.  I couldn't resist the urge to try to figure out what about her was so remarkable to Abe.  Her handshake was certainly something that took me by surprise, but beyond that nothing really stood out.  I considered her physical structure some more, given that it was all I really had to work with, and even that wasn't much due to the scrubs and her thick fleece.  I guess she looked a little stocky, but it was hard to tell.  I looked at her hands, again wondering about that surprising firmness to our handshake.  She certainly did not have dainty, lady-like hands.  While her fingers were not thick, they had a look of someone who was familiar with manual work.  Her fingernails were trimmed short and were painted pink, which projected a feminine appearance without the help of characteristic long and impractical nails.  I suspected this was necessary for her nursing work.  I did register that she had some thick veins on the backs of her hands and fingers that were very pronounced. This seemed typical of older women, though. 

I was brought back to the conversation.  Mark was commenting on her clothes.

"Oh, you haven't been to work yet today, mom?"

"No, I tried to avoid this on the day you boys arrived, but I had to pick up a shift for a friend who had a family emergency.  I have to head in..." she looked at her watch,"...now."

Mark didn't seem bothered, "Don't worry about it.  We'll probably just hang out here tonight.  We're going to get together with some friends for dinner tomorrow, and Jon is going to head into the city to meet with dad Monday."

Eve looked at me, "That's great.  I'm glad it worked out for you to come up here with Mark and meet with Ken.  If you are interested in marketing career, I can't think of anyone better to talk to."

"I'm looking forward to it.  The job market isn't great right now, so I'm eager to get any help I can."

Eve looked at her watch again, clearly recognizing that she was starting to run late, and she started collecting her purse and keys while still carrying her big thermos, "What is your plan on Monday, Mark?"  She reached into the fridge and pulled out one of the containers and put it in her oversized purse, which made me realize that these must be pre-prepared lunches for work.  As a student that had lived of cafeteria food for the last four years, I wondered if I'd be this organized as an adult outside the college lifestyle I had lived for the last several years.  The lunch looked pretty plain, like chicken and rice with some green vegetable that I guessed was broccoli.  When I had to start handling this part of my life, I resolved in that moment that I'd definitely put more flare into my daily meals.

"I'm going to head up with Steve and his brother to go snowmobiling at their lake house.  We'll be back by dinner."

"OK, that sounds like fun, watch the weather, though.  They say there is a storm coming in Monday that I don't want you to get stuck in."  She had everything together, "I'll probably see you boys tomorrow, although I will have to head into work a little earlier for my normal shift.  I hate doing these back-to-back late and early shifts, but you gotta help your friends out sometimes, right?"

She smiled at us and headed out the garage door.  I was a little frustrated that I couldn't tell what Abe had teased me about regarding Mark's mom and figured I he was just pulling my leg.  She seemed perfectly normal and, frankly, pretty cool to me.

Mark turned to me, "Another beer?  Looks like my mom bought a 12-pack."

I took the last swig off my bottle, "Sure."

"It's funny, mom doesn't even drink.  I bet she hasn't had beer in the house in 10 years.  Probably back when dad still lived here."

We headed to the family room and sat down to watch some football.  We must have watched for a couple hours before I noticed I was starting to drift off to sleep.  Maybe it was the third beer.

I yawned, realizing how tired I was from the drive, "Man, I have to get to bed.  Where's my room?"

Mark pointed down the hall, "Two doors down on the left.  It's the guest room.  The bathroom with a shower you can use is the first door.  I bet my mom got the room ready for you."

I took my suitcase down the hall and saw a modest room that did look like it had been set-up for me to stay.  Like Mark thought, there were some extra pillows and folded blankets neatly stacked on the corner of the bed.  I looked around the room, which seemed to have been recently cleaned and smelled slightly of lemon Pledge.  I chuckled to myself, guessing that this room had probably appeared this way for the last fifteen or twenty years.  The only thing that looked relatively modern was a modestly sized flat screen TV sitting on the dresser, facing the bed.  It was an older model TV, but it was large enough that it would be decent to watch from the bed.  I wondered who would come into this room to actually watch it.  Maybe it was an old TV from another room that was displaced by an upgrade, and it just ended up in this room.  I looked closer and was kind of surprised to see that it had a VCR connected to it.  I couldn't remember the last time I had seen a VCR, and it seemed odd to see such an old piece of A.V. technology connected to even an older flat screen TV.  I took a closer look and laughed to myself to see the component video cables connected to the TV. 

I shouted to Mark down the hall, "Who has a VCR anymore?"

"Ha, I don't know.  I guess my mom probably forgot we even had it in there.  I don't think anyone has actually stayed in that room in years.  She probably barely goes in there anymore."

I proceeded to get myself ready for bed and washed up and brushed my teeth in the bathroom.  I unfolded the clothes I intended to wear on Monday.  It was fortunate that I didn't need to wear a suit or anything, just business casual attire according to my emails with Mark's dad two weeks ago.  I closed the door and went to lay down in the bed. 

Even with a few beers in me, the strange bed was affecting my ability to relax and fall asleep.  I was thinking about what to expect Monday when I met Mark's dad.  After a little while, I heard Mark pass by the closed bedroom door to head to his bedroom, followed by the seam of light below the door going dark as he flipped off the hallway light switch.  I continued to stir for a while, and allowed myself to look at the clock to see that it was now after midnight.

I turned on the bedside lamp, frustrated, wondering how I was going to get to sleep.  When I reached over for the lamp switch, I happened to notice a stack of magazines on a low shelf next to the side table that hadn't caught my eye earlier when I climbed into the bed from the other side.  I was instantly shocked to see that the top magazine was a brightly colored Flex magazine with an enormous male bodybuilder hitting a double biceps pose on the cover.  The magazine was colored in those garish 90s-era graphics, and I could see that it was dated from 1993.  I was not expecting to come upon this sort of thing in this location and I felt a heat come to my face and my heart began to race.  As it turns out, I was extremely familiar with bodybuilding magazines, but I had an unusual relationship with them.  I was obviously not a bodybuilder myself, and nobody would even really mistake me for the kind of gym enthusiast that would regularly buy such material, but the reality was that I had purchased many magazines like this over the years.  The reason for my interest was that I happened to have a fetish for female bodybuilders and found them intensely attractive, so when I was younger I used to buy magazines like this and stash them away for my personal enjoyment.  My prurient interest in these magazines naturally led me to keep them very carefully hidden away.  Since my fetish was such a deeply hidden secret, I had a developed a strange anxiety around being faced with female muscle in public.  Seeing a bodybuilding magazine cover in a rack, a muscular woman in an ad or commercial, or even a woman wearing gym clothing could cause my pulse to quicken.  It was particularly awkward in the rare cases that women with muscles would come up in conversations with friends, like if we happen to be watching the Olympics together and developed female athlete would illicit a comment from someone.  In the few times that this had happened, I had tried to stay as quiet and neutral as possible to avoid the possibility that I would out myself through some odd comment that might skew as abnormal and key everyone in to what I was really thinking inside.  An irrational fear, perhaps, but one that I could not shake.  The associations to the kinds of topics and images that would trigger this anxiety were surprisingly pervasive.  I was able to function in society, of course, but it seemed that there was constant threat in any given day that I'd find myself having to take evasive action to avoid such triggers when around others, so my radar was always up.

For this reason, the shocking encounter with this magazine in Mark's mom's house had induced a tremendous adrenaline rush.     

I reached down to fan out the pile slightly and was even more surprised to see that it was not a single magazine sitting on the top, but rather an entire stack of perhaps fifteen magazines.  They were all about bodybuilding:  Flex, Muscular Development, Muscle & Fitness, Ironman, Musclemag.  I wasn't even familiar with all of these, as this was an era before my time.  These 90s magazine could honestly be considered vintage, or maybe even collector's items.  I noticed my hand shaking as I carefully looked through them, taking special care not to disturb them in any way that someone might notice.  While intellectually I doubted that anyone knew the exact order these magazines were stacked in this pile, I felt I couldn't risk this so I was extremely careful not to jumble the order as I examined them so I'd be able to put them back exactly the way I found them.  My body was coursing with adrenaline.  I was so taken aback to see these casually out in the open next to the bed.  Again, I realized it my unique reaction to associate material like this so directly with sex, but it was still odd.  To me, this was like seeing a Penthouse magazine just sitting out on a coffee table in someone's family room. 

So many questions raced through my mind:  What were these doing here in Mark's mom's house?  Why did she have them here?  Were they from a guest?  They were so neatly stacked and I couldn't imagine a guest showing up with fifteen magazines all from this particular decade, then leaving them here.  Could these have been from Mark's dad?  I wondered if I knew anything about his dad...was he a bodybuilder back in the 90s?  Maybe these were something he had left behind after the divorce.  It didn't make sense that they'd sit in the house for ten years, though, and not be removed or cleaned up in that time.  Were these Mark's?  Was it possible Mark and I actually shared this somewhat rare fetish and we never realized it?  I never picked up such a clue if it was the case. 

While I puzzled over the mystery of why these magazines were here, my intense desire to peruse the content begun to take over and I started to leaf through them a bit.  While I had nearly unlimited access to female bodybuilding videos and imagery via the phone sitting next to me, something about these classic magazines that I suddenly had at my fingertips while I was alone in this room was irresistible and had turned me on intensely.  I saw one of the Flex magazines had coverage of the 1994 Jan Tana Women's Bodybuilding competition, and while the cover most prominently featured a massive male bodybuilder, there was an inset image in the corner showing five gorgeous muscular women in a posedown from that competition.  There was also a tease of a "Power and Sizzle" spread featuring another woman.  I admired the platinum blonde hair on a couple of the competitors and the fluorescent bikinis that so embodied the look of female bodybuilding from this period.  I had a strong erection in that moment and I felt it harden further in anticipation as I picked up the magazine and started to look through it, knowing that I was about to enjoy myself thoroughly to these vintage female bodybuilding photos within this goldmine of a stash.  I flipped through the pages, admiring the magnificent body of Denise Rutkowski in her prime as she was featured in an article about how to grow aesthetic, muscular arms.  The pictures of her pumping and posing in an empty gym while wearing a one-piece leotard were simply marvelous.  Her vascular muscles were prominent and compelling.  I got a kick out of the clothing, but her muscle was as gorgeous as nearly any modern competitor I could conjure to mind for comparison.  There was another article on some fitness athlete that looked so small by today's standards, so I passed over that quickly.  Then I got to my objective: the Jan Tana competition article.  I was pleased to see that it spanned several pages and consisted of about twenty pictures that covered the line-up and featured close-up shots of several individual competitors.  I barely perceived that I was stroking myself slowly.

As I was studying one of the few pictures that showed the entire line-up of women, a tiny detail caught my eye.  One of the competitors, in a lime green bikini, looked extremely familiar in the line-up.  Unfortunately, the caption was generic and didn't call out all the women in the image by name.  I scanned the other pictures in the article and she didn't appear anywhere else, probably because she didn't place very highly.  I flipped through the article and found that it only talked about the women that placed in the top ten, so I couldn't find out who the woman was.  The familiarity nagged at me. 

I pulled out my phone and did a search for the 1994 Jan Tana competition's competitor list.  It was hard to get a complete list from such an old show, but since this was a high-level pro show at the time, I figured it must be available somewhere.  Eventually I found a site that had an archive of bodybuilding shows.  I found my way to this one and scanned the full list.

There it was. 

Seventeenth place. 

Evelyn Rodgers. 

I couldn't believe it.  That sense of familiarity on the woman in this magazine was correct...it was Mark's mom.  His mom was a former professional female bodybuilder.  I paused to consider what I had just happened upon, and I perceived how my arousal was now in a weird state.  While it had not subsided, the distraction of my last few minutes of detective work had changed my focus a bit.  Now that I had my made this discovery, my erection raged back and I was immediately fully aware of it again.

Mark's mom was a professional bodybuilder back in the 1990s.  I was shocked.  I was puzzled that I had never heard of her, but I guess I had mostly been 'studying' the sport of female bodybuilding around athletes in my present timeframe.  When it came to older generations of bodybuilders, I only knew the bigger names.  Eve maybe never really did well as a pro, so her name wasn't as well-known as some of the more successful women from that era.  I had never seen a competitive female bodybuilder in person, and I was astounded by the fact that I unknowingly just met one, and was even in her house at this very moment.  Mark didn't hint at this fact about his mom, but it seemed pretty obvious to me why that was.  I laughed at the thought of him suddenly blurting out that his mom used to be a professional bodybuilder without any prompt of any kind.  What was he going to do, pull out some old picture that he carried in his wallet of his mom showing off her massive muscles in a tiny bikini?  Of course he didn't mention this.  I wondered if this was something that embarrassed him, or if it was something that he had just grown up with and it didn't strike him as abnormal in any way.  It could be either, I supposed.

I flipped back to that page that showed her in the line-up at the 1994 contest.  While she may not have been able to place in the top ten of this show, she was clearly still an extraordinary physical specimen.  I marveled at the mass on her body.  She was standing in a "relaxed" pose next to the other women, with her arms flared outward.  Despite the seemingly casual stance, I knew that this pose was far from truly relaxed.  She was intensely flexing nearly every muscle in her body for the judges to appraise her.  Her large, rounded delts were the first thing I noticed, but then I scanned over the tremendous mass of her arms, snaking with veins, and her squared off pecs flexed and bulging beneath the skimpy bikini top.  Her lats were widely flared and thick.  I studied how her ridged abs and obliques tapered to a smallish waist before swelling into her flexed, vascular, and corded quads.  Her calves were bulbous and swollen diamonds pointing out from below her small knees.  She was flashing that same smile that I had just seen in the kitchen a few hours before, which is what that keyed me to recognize her.  She looked immensely powerful and was intensely sexy to me.  I could tell that her height was likely one of the primary obstacles that she had to overcome as some of the larger women around her clearly had a more impressive presence on the stage.  I wondered if this could have been what caused her to place poorly.

I continued to stroke myself slowly as I fixated on this old image of Eve, fascinated by the coincidence that this woman's unique background resonated with my particular fetish.  Curiosity started to nag at me, and I wondered if this magazine was here as a sort of record of her brief appearance in it, like how someone might keep an old newspaper article that they are featured in.  I suspected this may be the case, and I realized that the others were also probably retained for the same purpose.  I bet there were pictures of Eve in each of them, and I became filled with an overwhelming desire to carefully comb through them to see more images of her former herculean physique.

I set the current magazine aside and looked down to select another one.  As I was moving the pile, I noticed a non-descript VHS tape that was tucked into the shelf corner beside the stack of magazines, originally blocked from my view until I started deconstructing the pile of magazines in front of it.  The tape's proximity to this archival stash of media appearances from Eve's bodybuilding career suggested to me that this may be a similar thing, and I felt a rush as I reached for it.  While the glossy magazine images were amazing, the thought that there might be a video record of her posing in a contest made me tingle in anticipation.  Female muscle was best when viewed in motion.  I pulled the tape out and recognized that this was a home recording.  The handwritten label said "Nationals 1990."  I was certain this must be a contest recording of some kind.

I looked at the VHS machine connected to the TV and knew that I had to watch this tonight, immediately.  I was intensely aroused.  As I started to get out of bed to do this, I was stopped in panic by the roaring mechanical sound of the garage door opening (maybe the roar was overly magnified to me in that moment).  Eve must be getting back from her late shift at work.  My heart was beating thunderously and I was paralyzed by the ludicrous situation I was in, as I was just getting ready to pleasure myself to what I suspected was an old video of my friend's mom while she was in the house with me!  Had I started this only a few moments earlier, I might have been in the actual act while the object of my lust was walking by my room...maybe a mere fifteen feet away on the other side of a closed door.  The clandestine nature of this situation was oddly even more arousing and I found that I was on the verge of an orgasm without even actively touching myself.  I willed myself to calm down as I listened to Eve move about the kitchen for a few minutes.  I realized that she would likely be able to tell that I was awake at this late hour from the fact that my light was on and would have illuminated the front window as she drove up, but I stayed as silent as I could.  I prayed she wouldn't knock on my door or check in on me, even though I knew she probably wouldn't seek to disturb me even if I was up.  Still, I panicked a little when I did imagine her opening the door check on me only to find the telltale bodybuilding magazine splayed out the bed next to me.  It would take little imagination to put two and two together to surmise what was probably going on, and this thought horrified me.  While I could tell she was still in the kitchen, I attempted to re-stash the magazine next to the bed as quietly as I possibly could.  I heard her footsteps coming down the hall toward my room.  I resisted the temptation to turn the light off, as I thought this would be even more suspicious than if I did nothing.  I found myself holding my breath for some stupid reason as I saw the shadow of her passing my room from the light showing beneath the door.  Thinking I was nearly in the clear, I had a fresh moment of terror as I saw the shadow stop in front of my door for a brief moment.  Was she just listening?  She wouldn't actually open the door, would she?  I looked around the room to make sure nothing showed of what I was doing in the unlikely event that she actually did open the door to check in on me.  After a few of the longest seconds of my life, I saw the shadow recede from the door and listened to her footsteps moving down the hallway.  I saw the hallway light turn off and a door quietly close down the hall.  I quietly exhaled and realized that my pulse was absolutely pounding in my ears.

I debated what to do.  While my erection had been momentarily scared away, I was still intensely interested in the contents of this VHS tape and I would never be able to fall asleep knowing it was in the room with me.  I simply had to see it.  I did turn the light off in the room and I sat staring at the dark for perhaps forty five minutes, waiting to build the confidence to move without alerting anyone in the house that I was doing anything in here.  After I was confident that everyone was likely sleeping, I removed the tape and stashed the cardboard sleeve back on the shelf, then I slowly and carefully made my way to the VHS player and inserted the tape.  Every click and whir in the machine sounded like a jackhammer to me, but I forged ahead.  I turned on the TV and quickly lowered the volume to 0 so I could work it back up to a safe volume, again praying silently that this would not attract anyone's attention.  I even walked to the door to see if I could hear the TV at the volume I had finally selected to ascertain if any sound was likely to make it into the hallway.  I was pretty confident I was safe.

I had no idea what time it was, but I proceeded to watch the video on that tape.  It turned out that it was an old ESPN broadcast of the 1990 NPC Nationals women's bodybuilding competition, recorded from a period before my time when this was a sport that the network actually covered and televised.  The women in this amateur competition were generally smaller than the professional women in the magazine I had just been looking at.  That said, there were some standouts that did present obvious next level physiques that were pro-caliber already.  I watched the intro segment that highlighted the frontrunners scheduled to appear in the show, and my heart skipped when they flashed a clip of Eve, who was a middleweight in this competition.  The brief glimpse previewing her routine took my breath away.  She was young in this video, but I instantly recognized the maturity in her muscularity and why she was singled out as a favorite in this segment.  The snippet showed her hitting a side chest pose from a close-up angle and I was pleased with the fact that it was done in slow motion.  I looked in awe at her developed pecs and delts, tightly flexed to not only show her mass, but also to demonstrate prominent striations and veins that exhibited her conditioning.  The slow motion of the video allowed me to register the tiny twitches of the various muscle groups as she recruited them all into the pose.  I could see her deltoids, lats, and traps all being willfully flexed while she held that smile as a mask of the tremendous effort.  It was so easy to miss how much effort went into these poses at regular speed, and I appreciated how this old video production managed to capture it even if they did not do this for that purpose. Eve transitioned to a modification of the pose by lifting her rear-facing arm into a flexed biceps pose, and my eye fixated on the large, vascular, tightened ball of muscle before the preview clip ended and they proceeded to highlight a heavyweight competitor.

My mind buzzed with excitement.  In the last hour or so, I had become obsessed with my friend's mom and her bodybuilding past.  The fact that I was in the household of a former professional female bodybuilder and that I presently had direct access to ogle the magnificent physique she used to possess was an intense aphrodisiac that now consumed my world.  I watched the lightweight competitors enthusiastically but this was an appetizer to my goal, so paced myself as I waited for the middleweight segment that would feature Eve's routine.  I registered how much less ostentatious the sport had been in this era.  The athletes and their presentations were much more raw than I was accustomed to from current competitions:  simple posing suits devoid of rhinestones, typically a single color; no structure in the tops to artificially enhance feminine curves; less ornate hairstyles; and much more modest make-up.  While the women were gorgeous, they seemed much more approachable and real than the over-the-top competitors of the current generation.  Several did have breast implants, but many competitors did not.   

The middleweight segment began, and I felt my heart rate increase in anticipation of Eve's full routine.  I watched several competitors that I already knew were nowhere near her level, and recognized from the little preview I saw in the beginning that it was a foregone conclusion that she would walk away with the category.  She seemed to be the last in the group to perform.  When she walked on stage, I was finally able to marvel at her full physique for the first time.  The graphic at the bottom of the screen showed that she weighed 124 pounds and she was only 21 at this show, which was a fact that struck me like a thunderbolt.  I couldn't comprehend that she had achieved the magnificent physique that I was witnessing at such a young age.  I surmised that the level of muscularity she possessed at that age must have required several years of training, meaning that she was likely lifting intensely even in high school.  I marveled at this thought, and the tremendous muscle development that she probably exhibited while in college, assuming she was a student at that time.  I found myself imagining her walking across the quad of her campus in the spring, casually heading to class but standing out against the rest of the students due to those broad, sloping shoulders with bulbous capped delts pressing against a T-shirt.  Her pumped, veiny arms cradling books.  I imagined her in short cut-off jeans as her massive quads and calves rippled with each step as she made her way through the crowd, projecting an obliviousness to the fact that she was stronger and more muscular than nearly all of the typical men at the school.  I pictured finding myself in the school gym bench pressing next to the relatively small, but power-packed girl, struggling to complete my third set with 185 pounds while she did reps with 225 pounds, emasculating me without any care that she was doing so.  I could envision her hanging out with the men who were regulars at the gym, comfortable amongst them in a way that I would not be.

Her routine was mesmerizing...or at least SHE was mesmerizing performing it.  I couldn't get over the fact that Eve was younger in this video than I was now, and I was intensely aroused by the obvious physical superiority she would have possessed over me had I had the opportunity to meet her back then.  While this wasn't the primary source of what I found attractive about female bodybuilders, it was certainly a facet of it.  The muscle mass was not just outstanding for a young woman, for also for a human being.  She was bubbly and feminine on stage while hitting pose after pose to show off her muscularity, flashing flirtatious glances at the audience, swaying her hips demurely in her transitions.  I was always so enthralled by the idea of a woman who loved being feminine and girly while also having muscularity that would shame nearly any man.

As I watched Eve's old performance and simultaneously played these imaginary scenarios in my head, the stimulation was simply too much to suppress any longer and I proceeded to experience an intense orgasm.  The waves rippled through me furiously from the prolonged build-up to that point.  Eve was wrapping up her routine and waving and blowing kisses to the audience as she left the stage.  My waves of pleasure began to wane and I felt overwhelmingly fatigued all of a sudden.  While I wanted to watch the end of the competition, I decided that I'd put that off until the next night and I'd most definitely rewatch the whole thing so I could enjoy Eve's performance again.  I calculated how many times I'd likely rewatch this video over the course of the next several days that I stayed here.  I imagined that I'd watch it a multiple times per night.

I awoke the next day feeling a strange sensation as if everything from the previous night was not real.  In fact, it seemed almost certain that it wasn't real and it couldn't be true that my friend's mom was a former professional female bodybuilder until I peered over the edge of the bed and saw that stack of bodybuilding magazines.  The surreal sensation evaporated instantly. The magazine pile was of course repositioned just as I had found them.  It had all really happened after all.  I heard a stirring in the kitchen and realized someone else was awake. 

By the time I got to the kitchen, I saw Mark was in there.  He had made coffee and was eating a bowl of cereal.

"Hey, how'd you sleep?"

I was bleary-eyed because of my late night, but I didn't want to have any sort of discussion why this might be, so I lied, "Good.  That bed was pretty comfortable."

"Cool man."

"Is your mom up, yet?  What time did she get home from her shift?" Was I bringing his mom up too soon?  I didn't want to be weird about it.

"I don't know.  She doesn't do late shifts that often anymore, I don't think.  She might be sleeping in a little before she has to head back in."

I considered how I might ask a question probing about his mom's past, but thought there was absolutely no way to do this and I had to try my best to drop this subject.  "What are we up to today?"

"I thought we could head downtown and check out a cool record store that I know before we meet up with some of my friends and head out for dinner.  You'll love it.  It's huge.  I can show you where my dad's office is too so you can find it tomorrow."

"Sounds good."

I heard footsteps in the hallway and realized that Eve was up and heading to the kitchen.  My cheeks felt hot as I realized I was about to confront the woman I had thoroughly pleasured myself to last night, and I had to figure out how to be cool about this.  I also found myself wanting to get another look at her to see if she still retained any of the physique I had just seen from her past.

She walked into the kitchen wearing a thick robe that hung low and showed virtually none of her legs, and she was wearing slippers.  She had some kind of T-shirt beneath that obscured her chest such that I couldn't judge whether she had any pectoral muscle cleavage. 

"Morning boys.  Everyone sleep OK?"

"Yeah mom.  It's always nice to sleep at home."

"Jon, were you OK in that old guest room?"

"I was, thanks.  It was plenty comfortable."

"Great.  I don't have a lot of guests anymore, so I wasn't sure.  Was it warm enough?"

I couldn't recall.  I had slept like a rock once I finally let myself.  "Yeah, I was fine."

"Oh, I was a little worried that I might not have left you enough blankets to be comfortable.  It can be a little drafty.  The weather is supposed to get colder tonight, so I'll make sure I put another blanket in there for you just in case."

I was fairly certain I wasn't going to need that, but I appreciated the hospitality, "Sounds good, thanks so much, Eve."  It felt strange to use her name, but I had to act like an adult here.

Eve proceeded to pour herself a big glass of water to go with her mug of coffee and got out a pan and a carton of eggs.  I saw her start to crack them into a bowl.  She was straining the yolk from about half of them, making me think that she was still carefully watching her diet, which I took as a sign that perhaps she still did put some effort into her physique.  I did see that, even through the thick robe, her back seemed rather wide and I thought I could pick up the distinctive sloping shape of developed trapezius muscles, but this could have been from the thick robe's collar.  It was frustrating how hard it was to gain the info I sought here.

"Would you boys want some eggs?"

Mark responded, "Not the way you make them, mom.  Yuck."

Hmm, this seemed like it might be some hint of Mark's awareness of his mom's lifestyle.  I tried to look like I didn't understand the reference and let on that it meant anything to me.

Eve laughed, "Suit yourselves.  You guys have a plan today?  Are you going anywhere?  I do have to work again, but I'll have time off starting tomorrow."

"We're going to head downtown.  Probably head out in a little bit and just hit a few cool places that I think Jon would like to see.  Then we're meeting Pete, Jenny and some other friends."

"OK, that sounds good.  I am going to head to the gym for a quick workout before I head to work."

Mark barely reacted to this, "I figured.  We might be out late."

"Don't be too late.  Jon has to meet with Ken tomorrow.  He shouldn't be hung over for that."  She looked over her shoulder and smiled That Smile at me.  I had a flashback to her performing her bodybuilding routine from 30 years ago and felt a stirring in my pants and felt my cheeks flush.

"We'll be good mom, but thanks for the reminder."  Mark stood up to clear his bowl and grabbed mine and put it in the dishwasher.  Eve proceeded to make her eggs.  It looked like she had prepared about half a dozen of them, which definitely seemed like a clue to me.  Mark kissed his mom on the cheek and we left the kitchen.

Mark and I headed downtown and had a great day.  We met up with his friends and hit a bar for a drink, then went to dinner at a dive that they used to go to in high school.  After that, we hit another bar and had another beer and just talked for a while before deciding we had to head home.  All said it was a pretty tame night, but it was fun hanging out with his high school buddies and seeing downtown Minneapolis. 

When we got back, most of the house was dark except for the kitchen and the hallway light.  It was only about 11pm, but it was clear Eve had gone to bed.  We both proceeded to our rooms and I was already looking forward to another session viewing that old bodybuilding tape.  As I was opening the door, the first thing I saw was another blanket on the corner of my bed, and the bed had been freshly made.  I had left it unmade when I left, like a terrible houseguest.  Suddenly, I had a flash of horror as I realized that Eve would have been walking about the room to make the bed.  That was also when I realized that I hadn't actually replaced that VHS tape from the VHS player.  Would she possibly have noticed this subtle detail?  She wouldn't check whether there was a tape in the VHS player, would she?  She wouldn't have checked that stash of bodybuilding media next to the bed to see that the VHS tape wasn't in place, right? 

I panicked, afraid to proceed further into the room to find out.  I oscillated between soothing myself that there was no way that my catastrophic blunder to cover my tracks would have been discovered and freaking out that I had outed myself to the very person I was jerking off to last night.  I had to go look and see if there was any sign that she might have noticed.  As I walked over to peer around the bed, something caught the corner of my eye on the dresser that had the VCR and the TV. 

I froze.  What was that?  It appeared to be a stack of VHS tapes that most definitely had not been there before.  That dresser surface was empty this morning aside from the VCR and the TV.  I was afraid to look at what it was, and realized that this could have only been left by Eve.  As I approached, I was shaking, uncertain of what I was going to find.  What did she put out here?  Was it meant for me?

I reached out to the stack of VHS tapes and turned them so I could see what the labels said.  I counted five tapes.  I noticed that three of them were again home recordings, but two of them were professional.  I almost expected it at this point, but suffered a combination of shock and horror to see that these were all bodybuilding tapes as well.  The home recordings were labelled "1989 MN State Champs," "1993 Jan Tana," and "1994 Ms International."  The professional tapes were "1995 Ms Olympia" and...my breath caught in my throat.  I pulled this last one out of the stack out to look closely, not believing what I was looking at.  It was titled, "Women's Physique World presents Evelyn Rodgers," and it featured Eve, looking considerably larger than she was in the video I had watched last night, wearing a sundress in a garden with her hands clasping the back of a bench or railing, flexing her arms, shoulders and pecs while smiling at the camera.  She seemed to be staring directly into my eyes.

In that moment, it was clear that Eve had not only noticed that the VHS tape next to the bed was out of place, but that I had clearly watched it.  She seemed to have assumed (correctly) that I must have enjoyed what I saw and had decided that I might like to see more, so she had set out a number of other videos for me.  Given the fact that WPW tape featured her exclusively, I assumed that she was likely present in all of these videos.  I didn't know how to react at the fact that I had been discovered, and that she probably knew exactly what I had done while watching that old video of her and that, unbelievably, she must have been OK with it. 

[madsoam2]

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[bolt21]

Oh my...

[kiki]

 

[snaggle321]

 

[Sounder9-]

Great story! Can't wait to see what's next.

[ame3cv62]

Yes great story,looking forward to where this goes

[sgsg69]

Wonderful premise and story line so far.............she hasn't had guests in quite a while, now she has one ready to worship her!!! Can't wait for the next chapter....KARMA to you! K++

[jhunter]

Interesting set up, looking forward to more.

[wowser1016]

Uh-oh! Busted? In a good way, maybe. Fun for some ahead. Nice start!

[phil123]

Great start. I hope for more.

[biggerisbetter]

It was very brave of you to challenge The muscular Mrs. Jones but Evelyn Rodgers seems to be in a league of her own. Can't wait to read next chapters!

[madsoam2]

I'm a big fan of the Mrs Jones story. It hits a sweet spot in this genre that really appeals to me, which is why I suspect some might find a similarity in these characters (we write what we like, right?). This story will be much shorter and more contained. I only plan a part 2.

[xepha]

love this story

[hatour]

Great story. I can't wait for the conclusion! Karma for all!

[ArkhamAsylum]

What an awesome first part. I can't wait to see what happens next. Amazing work!