Massive Mary




For the past eight years Mary has been my next door neighbor (I own a duplex,
and we live in opposite sides.); but for the last 12 years she has been my
workout partner and, most important of all, my girlfriend and lover. We may
soon get married, but we'll continue our current living arrangements. After
all, how many couples can honestly say they have been together a dozen years
without any arguments. But I digress.

Twelve years ago Mary and I worked in the same state government building. I
worked for the state, and Mary was a baker in the cafeteria in the building. I
have been a non-competitive body builder for most of my adult life, and Mary
had just recently joined a YMCA so that she could work out in its weight room.
She was also, by the way, quite an accomplished swimmer.

I had seen Mary in the cafeteria a few times, but I never paid a whole lot of
attention to her. On those times that I did see her in her loosely-fitting,
long-sleeved baker's smock, she was usually just carrying some baked goods
from the kitchen to the food serving line; and after placing the goods on the
line, she would run her short, five-foot-tall body back to the kitchen. On
those rare occasions when I did see her, I would give her a polite "hi" and go
get my food.

One day around the eighth or ninth of November, one of the two cashiers called
in sick, and the manager asked Mary if she would fill in for the cashier. When
I went to pay for my food, Mary waited on me. Now I am no Mr. Olympia but am
in very good shape, have curly (but thinning) hair, and people have told me
that I resemble Jack LaLanne although (for those of you who know who he is) I
am nowhere nearly as strong as Jack. Thus, just for fun, the other cashier
told Mary that my name was Jake LaLanne and that I was Jack LaLanne's son.
Mary asked me if that was true, and I said, "Sure is" and let her feel my
bicep. After that, she was convinced that I really was Jack's son, and there
was something about Mary that I found very intriguing although at the time I
couldn't put my finger on what that something was.

The next day Mary was helping one of the fry cooks (She is an excellent cook)
behind the serving line, and I gave her my business card with my home phone
number and asked her to give me a call if she would like to get to know me
better. (Of course the minute I gave her my card, she knew my name wasn't Jake
LaLanne, but what the heck? I knew she liked me anyway.)

Sure enough, that evening she called me, and we made a date for the following
Monday, which was a national holiday. Naturally I asked her on the phone about
her muscles, and she told me that genetically she had "thick arms," that she
had just started working out with weights at the Y, and that her forearms
looked like chicken drumsticks--thin at one end and bulging at the other. Of
course, on our first date, I asked her to demonstrate her "drumstick
forearms," and she wasn't kidding! She had inherited naturally muscular
forearms (from her dad, she said), and years of kneading thick dough as a
baker had defined them to a point where they were (and still are) far more
rippling than my forearms.

Her biceps back then were actually kind of soft. She had, however, very solid
thighs and calves that she had developed by riding a bicycle everywhere she
went. (She couldn't afford a car on her wages, but she sure got along great on
that bike.) Because Mary has always had a weight problem, her legs were not
ripped; but she had good bulges in her calves when she stood on her toes; and
when she flexed them, you could feel their hardness both at the front and the
back of her legs. (I still get excited by placing my hand on her shin bone and
having her flex her calves by sitting down and pulling her toes back toward
her body while tightening her muscles. When she flexes in this manner, a
muscle at the side of her shin BULGES out and gets hard as a ROCK)

As I said, her biceps were kind of soft, but they measured 13.5 inches, which
is a lot for a five-foot tall woman, and I could tell that there was some
muscle there. It just needed to be developed, and she had not been working out
long enough to make her biceps hard like her forearms and legs.

It didn't take long, though, for Mary's muscle potential to start to develop.
Although she never got really defined in her biceps, again due to her being a
bit overweight, I would measure her upper arms at least once a month and chart
their progress. Eventually they grew to 16.5 inches and became as solid as
stone (beneath a small covering of fat, of course).

Having developed these big hard biceps, Mary devised neat ways to show them
off. For example, she has what she calls "biceps showdowns" with other women
and men. She has the man or woman place the bottom part of his or her upper
arm on top of her right bicep. Then she flexes her bicep, thus bringing her
forearm down on top of the other person's bicep. She has never lost a biceps
showdown yet. Her biceps and forearms are so hard, that the other person has
to cry uncle or suffer excruciating pain as his or her arm is squished between
her biceps and forearms!

She also loves to crush steel food cans between her stone-like biceps and
forearms. The can, of course, has to be open on at least one end. If anyone
thinks that feat is easy, TRY IT. It was my hard "Jake LaLanne" arm, you'll
remember, that got Mary's attention in the first place. You'll also remember
that I have been body building most of my life, but I can't even begin to
crush those cans. I repeat. I can't even BEGIN to crush those cans. Mary,
however, can even place a soda can inside a steel food can and make big dents
in them BOTH just by using her fantastic biceps and forearms. She can also
pulverize lemons and limes with her biceps and can even flatten a tennis ball
if a small hole is put in the ball to allow some air to escape.

Geez. Just thinking about those arms and legs is getting me all excited, so
I'll close and go next door and "let Mary take advantage of me," as she likes
to put it.