Carmen's Amazing Curls




I guess I should have realized it then, after all she had only been working
out for about ten weeks and had only been working out hard for about five when
she not only out-lifted me at the gym but also surpassed the best I had ever
done. However, there was a part of me that thought what I had seen in the gym
that day was a bit of a fluke. That part of me thought that if I went back to
the gym on a regular basis and put my soul into working harder to get strong I
would recapture the strength advantage I had always owned over my wife. So I
found myself dragging myself out of bed at five AM in order to get to the gym
a few more times a week. I also cut back on the extra hours I was spending at
work, so that I could go to they gym occasionally after work when I was awake
and stronger.

I also invested in creatine, a substance I had read a lot about and heard
about but had never had the urge to try. Within a month I noticed results, and
after six weeks I was stronger than I had ever been. One Thursday I benched
300 pounds for four good reps. I had also upped my totals on the circuit,
which I did on my off days. I felt good about myself, and I was certain that
whatever had happened with my wife before, I had at least regained equality
with her. I teased her about it a little when I got home just to see what she
would say.

"You really have been going to the gym that much just to get stronger than me
honey? That's sweet. But I think it's a waste of time."

"What? Do you think you can do again what you did before?

"I might not be able to do all the weight I did last time, ... if you tied one
arm behind my back," she said. "But give me two good arms, and I will far
surpass what you saw before.' With that she pulled up her sleeve and flexed
her right arm. I was truly astounded.

I had been spending so much time at the gym and at work I had not really
noticed that she had gotten even bigger than before.

"Grab my bicep with both hands," she said. With that she relaxed it and I did.
Even in a relaxed state it was just too big for me to get both hands around,
but my two thumbs almost met.

Then she flexed. I managed to keep my index fingers touching each other, but
my thumbs were about three inches apart. I had never seen an upper arm that
big on anyone beside a male bodybuilder. I stepped back and looked with
admiration on the most beautiful and massively muscled arm I had ever seen in
person.

"Let's see that again," I said, and I grabbed her flaccid arm again trying to
fit my two large hands around the belly of the bicep. Once again when she
flexed I could not keep the hands anywhere near each other. By this time the
bulge in my pants was nearly as impressive as the bulge in her arm.

"That's impressive," I said. "Let's do the gym again on Sunday, and you can
show me what you can do."

"I'll show you a little something later too, my dear. We have not been to busy
in the bed lately."

"Oh, do I have to," I said teasingly. I was really looking forward to it.

"Yes!" came the reply. Her tone was not quite as jocular as mine had been.

I went away sheepishly. Wondering how many inches my hands could circumscribe
I wrapped them around my seventeen-inch neck. They fit with a small amount to
spare.

Later that night as she was dressing for bed I approached her from behind and
wrapped my arms around her considerable bulk. She had always been an inch or
so taller than me, but for most of the time I had known her I had outweighed
her. Six weeks ago she had been at just over 200 sexy pounds, and I had
weighed 210. I could swear she seemed bigger. I snuggled in and whispered
sweet nothings in her ear. Before I knew what had happened she had turned
around facing me and grabbed both my wrists, pinning my arms against my sides.

"Try to move your arms anywhere," she said in a challenging tone. I struggled
vainly but could not budge my arms from where she had pinned them.

"Give up"? she asked, with a silly grin on her face.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "But anybody can do that. Having your arms pinned to
the side pretty much immobilizes them."

"Oh, really," she said. "You wanna try to hold me down?" I knew I had probably
said the wrong thing.

"O.K." I said. "I'll take your challenge." I grabbed her arms and pinned them
to her sides. "I'm ready," I said. But within seconds she had her hands over
her head and had reversed my seemingly strong but obviously tenuous hold. Then
she easily grabbed my wrists, forced both arms behind my back and wrapped her
left hand around both wrists. Dragging me over to her bedside table, she
produced some lengths of rope and proceded to tie my arms behind my back and
immobilize my legs as well. Then she sat me down in a chair and performed a
posing routine that set my loins on fire.

"Enjoying yourself my dear?" she teased, knowing full well that my member was
pulsing like never before. "I thought you would like this. I have a special
treat." With that she produced a set of straps that turned out to be a harness
of some kind suspended from a bar. In no time she had me wrapped in the
straps, had straddled me and was lifting me with a two-arm curl in such a way
that she was essentially gratifying herself with me.

Even if I had wanted to I could not have stopped her, but I did not want to.
The more she lifted me against her the harder I got and the more pliable she
became until I was way inside her and she was holding me there, lifting my
entire weight in order to satisfy both our sexual cravings.

Minutes later we came simultaneously with a loud groan and collapsed to the
floor. She tenderly unwrapped my bonds and we collapsed into bed. As I lay
there, it occurred to me that she had curled my entire 210 pounds somewhere in
the vicinity of one hundred times and had held my weight up against her body
for what may have been only a minute but seemed longer as we approached
climax. I asked her to flex for me one more time, knowing that she was
probably pumped as never before. Once again I tried to wrap my hands around
her huge arm. This time the forefingers met on the outside of the arm and the
thumbs barely reached over the top of the bicep and under the bottom of her
tricep. The entire prodigious height of her bicep was exposed on the inside of
her arm as pints of blood pounded into the muscle tissue of her arms. I
figured she must have measured twenty-two inches at least. I thought about
jumping out of bed and measuring, but I realized there would be other
opportunities for that later.

"Do you want to repeat some of that action in a more conventional fashion," I
asked, knowing the answer.

"I was hoping you would say that." She replied with the devil in her smile.
She wrapped har arms around me and even if I had struggled I could not have
gotten away. I did not struggle, and she even let me lead the way.

Three hours and two episodes later we collapsed for good and slept till
morning

At this point I decided to accept the fact that I would never again be as
strong as my wife but that I might as well enjoy the experience.