Tales from Angie's Gym Part 2
By Al Harder



Chapter 3: Eric's First Time – and Second, and Third...

Angie drove her black Cobra home. She lived in a massive fifteen-room house
with a four-car garage that included a small apartment for her housekeeper and
cook. After pulling the MUSCLE1 Cobra into the garage between her
Harley-Davidson and her Hummer Angie entered the house and called, "Emily,
where are you?"

Her housekeeper came out downstairs and smiled. "Hi Boss. You're home early."

"Yeah, I want to take some extra care getting ready for my guest tonight."

"Well, Louis has dinner well in hand and the canapés are almost ready. The
wine is chilling and the house is ready."

"Great. I want everything to be perfect."

Emily grinned and asked, "Another muscle virgin? You just can't resist, can
you?"

"Well, someone's got to recognize a muscular woman lover in denial. And
someone's got to get them over the hump, so to speak, so they can function in
society." Angie grinned back. "It might as well be me. I'll be upstairs
getting ready."

Angie took special care in her preparations for tonight. She wanted Eric to
face his fascination for muscular women, and make him realize that there was
nothing wrong with it. She treated her underarms and legs, removing any
unwanted hair, and trimmed her bikini line. After yet another shower, she blew
her hair dry and styled it so that it hung to her shoulders, curling slightly
at the ends. Angie studied herself in the full-length mirror; she hit a double
biceps pose, then a side chest, noticing that nothing was sagging. Caressing
her firm breasts, she thought, "Not bad for forty-six."

Angie sat down at her vanity and took her time applying makeup – just a touch
of color on her cheeks, blue eyeliner and blue-green eye shadow, deep red
lipstick that matched the nail polish on her fingers and toes. A bit of her
personal scent, but not too much. She didn't want him too overwhelmed, after
all.

She carefully selected her clothing for the evening's muscle seduction. Lace
bra and thong panties were a deep red trimmed in black, and hid absolutely
nothing. She added a black garter belt and black fishnet hose, dark red "fuck
me" shoes with four-inch heels, and a pair of gold hoop earrings, then topped
the look off with a black sleeveless lace coat that was almost totally
transparent, but covered her from shoulders to ankles. It had three ties – she
fastened only the one at the waist. Angie knew men liked their packages
gift-wrapped, and as she looked at herself once more in the full-length mirror
she thought that Eric would approve – if he didn't drop dead of a heart
attack, she thought with a grin.

The taxi dropped Eric off at the curb. He walked up the long driveway,
admiring the well-landscaped grounds. When he saw the house he almost lost his
nerve. "Jeez – it's a fucking mansion," he thought. He started to turn back
around, but something stopped him. "Now that I'm here I might as well see what
Ms. Korinsky has in mind," he decided.

Checking his watch, he saw that it was exactly six o'clock. He stumbled up to
the front door and rang the bell.

A moment later the door opened, revealing a tall, lithe blonde in a maid's
outfit. She was at least three inches taller than his height of five-nine, and
her arms sported some well-defined muscles. "May I help you?" she asked in a
musical soprano voice.

Eric swallowed hard and stammered, "I-I'm Eric Lawrence. I believe Ms.
Korinsky is expecting me."

Giving Eric an amused smile, the maid said, "Of course, Mr. Lawrence. Madame
is waiting in the den. Please come in and follow me." She closed the front
door and led the way down a hall to a small room. "Madame," she said, "Mr.
Eric Lawrence is here."

"Show him in, please," came the husky voice Eric remembered. The maid stepped
aside and gestured for Eric to enter. She gently closed the door behind him.

Eric's jaw dropped as he entered the room and saw his hostess lounging on a
chaise. He knew he was behaving like a teenage boy in the presence of a porn
star, but he couldn't help it. She was magnificent! Those arms, the bulging
legs, the armor-plated abs, the high, firm, large breasts – he was
overwhelmed. She was dressed beautifully, all in lace, and the wrapping didn't
hide any of her assets.

Angie smirked and rose. The four-inch stiletto heels made her a bit taller
than he was. She walked sexily over to where he stood just inside the door and
touched his arm. "I'm so pleased you decided to come," she said. "Please, make
yourself at home." She led him by the arm over to a sofa and told him to,
"Sit, please. Would you enjoy a cocktail before dinner?"

"Yes, thank you – er – Ms. Korinsky."

"Oh that's right, we were never formally introduced, were we? I'm Angela
Korinsky, but please call me Angie. And you are Eric..."

"Lawrence."

"Of course – Emily announced you. Pleased to meet you, Eric Lawrence," Angie
said, extending her hand. He took it and she squeezed gently, giving him a
smile to let him know that she knew how strong she was and didn't have to
prove it. "Now, about that cocktail. I'm having a martini – what would you
like?"

"Um – a martini is fine with me," he said, trying to sound older than his
twenty-five years.

"Excellent." She sauntered to a wall panel and said, "Emily, martinis for two,
please, and bring us something to tide us over until dinner is ready." Angie
walked over and sat next to Eric on the sofa, crossing her thick, sinewy legs.
"I suppose you're wondering just what all this is about," she said with a
smile.

Eric tried to relax. "Well, the thought had crossed my mind," he said.

Angie laughed. "That's better – I was afraid you were going to be so uptight I
wouldn't get a word out of you."

Emily entered the room easily balancing two trays. She carefully set one down
on the table in front of the sofa, then took two glasses from the other and
handed one to Eric and the other to Angie. "Emily, please let us know when
dinner is ready," Angie said.

"Yes Madame," Emily murmured, a teasing smile on her face.

"I'm going to be hearing about this for the next month," Angie thought.

She extended her glass for a toast. "Here's to new friends and new
experiences," she said. Eric clinked his glass with hers and took a sip. The
drink was excellent, icy cold, and quite strong. Eric felt himself start to
relax as the alcohol took effect.

"Anyway, to continue," Angie said after sipping her own drink. "I noticed you
this morning and thought that you might be – interested – in women who were
more muscular than the norm. Your reactions to me when I modeled the tank tops
were quite revealing." She took a shrimp roll from the tray and carefully ate
it, dabbing her lips with a napkin. Nervously Eric took another drink of the
potent martini. "Were you aware of these feelings, Eric?"

He nodded. "I've tried to hide how I feel about – athletic – women, since
that's not normal, but..."

"Who says it's not normal?" Angie interrupted. "It may not be mainstream, but
there's nothing wrong in admiring muscular women, nor in fantasizing about
them – I presume you fantasize about them, don't you?" He nodded. "Thought so.
Just because muscles on women isn't something the majority of people think is
sexy doesn't mean it's not normal." She handed him a shrimp roll. "Nibble on
this, Eric, I think your blood sugar may be low, and I don't want you passing
out on me – well, not yet, at least," she added with a knowing smile.

He chewed and swallowed, not noticing the taste, and sipped again from his
glass.

Angie leaned closer, laying her hand on his shoulder, and looked into his
eyes. "Eric, my dear young man, I'll have you know that there are more people
with the same feelings you have than you think. It's a matter of personal
preference. And I want to help you deal with your feelings."

Eric snorted. "You want to help me ‘deal with my feelings'? What are you, a
shrink?"

"Actually, I do have a doctorate in psychology. Or did you think I was just a
‘dumb jock'?"

"Okay, sorry. I'm not exactly comfortable at the moment, you know?"

"Yes, I do know. I'm going to try to make you more comfortable with yourself
and with me, and in the process I hope I can help get you out of your shell."

"You sound like my mom now – she'd always say, ‘Just go up and talk to her,
son. She won't bite. Get out of your shell – don't be so shy'."

Angie sipped her martini and said, "Eric, I may sound like your mom, but I
hope you don't see me that way. I certainly don't see you as my child."

"Why'd you invite me over here, anyway? Huh? To laugh at the kid who's got a
fetish for – athletic women?"

"First of all, let's get the nomenclature straight. Why can't you just say
‘muscular women' or ‘strong women'? You keep using the term ‘athletic', but I
don't think it's what you really mean. Annika Sorenstam is an ‘athletic
woman', and I admire what she's done for the game of golf, but she doesn't
have these!" Angie flexed her bicep right in front of Eric's face. She took
his hand and put it on the hard ball of sinew. A quick glance at Eric's crotch
showed her that she'd hit the mark. "These are what turn you on Eric –
MUSCLES! Big damn muscles! Right?"

"Oh God – YES! Muscles on women turn me on! The bigger the better! You happy
now?" Eric was crying as he admitted his addiction to female muscle.

Angie smiled and pulled his head to her shoulder. She patted him gently and he
wrapped his arms around her and clung to her as if he were clinging to a life
preserver. "It's okay, sweetie, it's okay. It's hard to admit it to yourself
sometimes. Don't worry, pet, you'll be fine. I want to help you."

Angie pushed Eric away a little, then took his head gently in her hands and
kissed him firmly. Eric ran his hands over Angie's hard, round deltoids and
down her powerful arms as she gently forced her tongue into his mouth. Before
Eric could embarrass himself by ejaculating in his pants, she drew her head
back. "So tell me, Eric," she breathed, "do you want to be dominated or shall
we explore a more equal relationship?"

"I-I-I – oh jeez, I'm so confused!"

Angie gave him a peck on the cheek. "Not too surprising. You've been denying
your feelings all your life."

"It's just that boys are supposed to like soft, cute girly-girls, and I never
did. I always wanted to date the captain of the softball team, or the girl who
could kick ass in soccer, you know?" Eric laughed derisively. "Not that I ever
had the guts to ask any of them out, of course. And the other guys made it
seem that being attracted to girls with muscles was weird, and my parents were
no better. They kept pushing me to ask out the girls who were popular, which
of course meant ‘girls who did girl things'. They didn't get why I stayed
after the varsity basketball game was done to watch the girls play."

"You're lucky. When I was growing up, I was called an – let me see now, what
was it – oh yes, an androgynous freak. There was no such thing as a girl's
basketball team, nor could I go into the gym and lift weights like the guys
did. It was ‘unladylike'." Angie shook her head. "At least now I'm not treated
like a sideshow attraction."

Angie disengaged herself and reclaimed her martini. Taking a long sip, she
continued, "So I don't see you as a candidate for domination. I'd say you just
want a muscular woman to love, and that's great. But first, you've got to
learn some things."

Eric drained his drink and asked, "What kind of things?"

Angie smiled warmly. "We'll discuss that after dinner. It must be time to eat
– I'm famished!"

Almost as if she'd been listening, Emily opened the door and announced,
"Dinner is ready, Madame."

Angie stood and offered Eric a hand up. "Come on, Eric, let's continue this
conversation over dinner."

Dinner consisted of roast chicken, baked potato, and steamed broccoli. It was
accompanied by a very nice Chardonnay, and followed by chocolate cake and
coffee. During the meal Angie quizzed Eric on his feelings, preferences, and
experiences with the objects of his fantasy. She learned he wrote stories
about what he'd like to do, and made him promise to send her some of them.
After dinner Angie led Eric on a tour of her house, showing off the enormous
yard area that contained a large pool, sand volleyball court, and a regulation
wrestling ring. She also showed him her well-equipped gym, and her "playroom",
a well-padded area Angie said she used for "rolling around with some friends,
just for fun".

They ended up in the den, where Angie poured two brandies. After the alcohol
he'd already consumed, Eric was feeling quite a bit more relaxed than when
he'd arrived. "So, my young friend," Angie said, "now we can get down to
business. I'm planning on giving you a lesson in how to treat strong women,
and how to attract them." She smiled seductively and added, "Later on we'll
deal with what you do after you've attracted them."

Angie set her drink down and gently pulled Eric to her. Standing face to face,
her breasts almost touching his chest, she said softly, "The first thing to
learn is that you should treat a strong woman like a person. Not an object,
not an idol, not something to be worshipped. Just like a person. You can
stare, if you can't help yourself, but you should also go up to her and tell
her how much you admire her will and her commitment to building her muscles.
We all like to get compliments."

"Okay," Eric said, "but what if I'm too shy to say stuff like that?"

"We'll work on that, I promise," Angie said. "Try it."

Eric swallowed hard, then looked Angie straight in the eyes. "Ms. Korinsky, I
really respect the hard work and dedication it must have taken to build this
fantastic body."

Angie smiled. "Very nice," she said. "Now, if she's not interested in you
she'll just say ‘thanks' and be on her way. That's okay, you still made her
day." Angie untied the single closure of her robe. "But, if she'd like to get
to know you better, she might do something like this." Angie flexed her bicep
and said, "Thank you so much. Would you like to feel my biceps?"

"Yes, please," Eric replied hoarsely, and at her nod he gently placed his hand
on her swelling mound while she pumped the arm up.

"Then, you should introduce yourself, and you might ask her how long she's
been doing this, you know, conversation. Treat her like a person."

"So how long have you been doing this, Angie?"

"Longer than you've been around, young man," she replied with a grin. She
reclaimed her brandy and took another sip. "After you've had a chance to get
to know her a bit, you should tell her something about yourself, maybe ask her
if she'd like to get some coffee or lunch. Again, if she's interested, she'll
jump at the chance, and maybe go from coffee to drinks, or lunch to dinner.
Upgrade, if you like."

"And what if things get – intimate?" Eric asked, sipping his own brandy.

"I was hoping you'd ask." Angie took the glass from Eric's hand and set both
drinks down. "Some girls are kind of awkward and shy. You'll be able to tell,
they'll act the same way you do – or hopefully did, when you first got here."
She took a step closer to Eric; he could smell the scent she used, and he felt
her breasts against his chest. "But some of us, especially us older broads,
are fairly aggressive." Eric licked his lips. "So you won't have any problems
decoding our signals." She took his face gently in her hands and kissed him,
strongly. He ran his hands over the hard cannonballs of her deltoids, slipping
the robe off her shoulders as he did. She grabbed him behind the head and
thrust her tongue into his mouth again. Moaning in desire, he moved his hands
lower, feeling the steely muscles of her back.

With mutual movement they found the sofa and half-fell onto it. Angie was on
top, and she quickly moved to pin him gently to the soft cushions. She busied
herself unbuttoning Eric's shirt, while he worked on the front closure of her
bra and, after some fumbling, was able to unhook it, releasing her breasts.
Angie decided that the buttons were much too difficult and ripped his shirt
open. They embraced again, flesh meeting flesh. Eric tried to turn them over
so he was on top, but Angie resisted. "I get to be on top – it's one of my
rules," she whispered into his ear; she followed that by thrusting her tongue
into the ear, then biting lightly at the lobe.

Eric felt chills running throughout his body. He caressed her breasts; as he
ran his thumbs over the nipples he felt them stiffen in desire. Angie
maneuvered herself so she had some room and worked on unfastening Eric's
pants. Despite their resistance, her powerful fingers tore them open with
little difficulty. That accomplished, she stripped both pants and boxers down
his legs expertly. He gently caressed her nipples again and she felt herself
grow wet. One glance at Eric's tool showed that he was ready.

Between them they got her garters unfastened and her garter belt removed. The
Velcro fastening Angie's thong panties was no barrier either. Angie she slid
down onto his erection, taking him deep inside herself. With perfect muscular
control she held him, feeling him ready to come, but not allowing him to
release yet, because she wasn't quite ready. Eric's tongue was in her mouth
now, and she let him have the small victory, knowing who was really in control
here. Pulling away for a moment, she thrust her breast into range of his
mouth, and he quickly had her breathing hard as he gently circled her nipple
with his talented tongue. She felt herself beginning to come and released the
hold she had on his prick. She rode him, sliding up and down his
well-lubricated tool once, twice, and ...

They came back down a few minutes later. Angie's full weight was resting on
Eric, but he didn't seem to mind. She brushed the hair back from his sweaty
forehead and smiled down at him. "I think you've got most of the skills you'll
need in your quest," she said with a grin.

"Oh man – that was unbelievable. YOU'RE unbelievable. Thank you."

"My pleasure – and I mean that," she replied. She disengaged and sat up. "You
have very good instincts, Eric. Really." She looked down at his body and
smiled slyly. "I didn't think those clothes would survive the night. No
worries, I've got some spare sweats that should fit you. They'll be a little
big, at least on your chest, but they should suffice."

"That's okay with me," Eric said cheerfully. "At least my pants and shirt gave
up their lives for a good cause."

Angie studied his lean physique. "You're in pretty good shape. Distance
runner?" she guessed.

"Swimmer," he replied.

"You feel any better now than when you first showed up?" Angie asked with a
grin.

"Uh-huh. You are an incredible lady."

"Don't get hung up on me and ignore strong women closer to your own age,"
Angie warned. "I did this because I saw a nice, confused kid who didn't
realize how bad he needed to be fucked by a muscular female. Don't think I'm
the only woman out there."

"Deal," Eric said, smiling.

"Good. Now, if you're feeling ‘up' to it, I think we should adjourn to the
bedroom." She eyed him sternly. "You can't get better without practice."

"Lead the way, milady," Eric said.

"Oh no – it's time you found out another thing about dating strong women. We
like to show off our strength." Angie stood up, pulled Eric up by the arm and
ducked, hoisting him across her shoulders in a fireman's carry. "You're a real
lightweight, compared to some. Ready to be ravished again?"

"Let's stop talking about it and do it, okay?"

Angie carried him easily up to her bedroom suite and dumped him on the
king-sized bed. "Get ready for action, little boy," she taunted. "I'm going to
show you a little bit of what some of us strong broads like to do to our
partners."

She crawled into bed and pulled him between her thighs, then locked her ankles
behind his back. Squeezing gently, she said, "This is the Korinsky Love Lock.
You're not nearly strong enough to escape this hold, even if I don't squeeze
hard. Just relax and enjoy it."

And strangely enough, Eric did. The feeling of helplessness, of being at
Angie's mercy, was stimulating. She commanded his obedience, directing him how
and where to fondle her, and he was an apt student. And his morning fantasy of
having his head crushed gently in her very muscular arms was realized; it was
every bit as arousing as he'd dreamed it would be. He and Angie made muscle
love all night.

Eric slowly woke, his eyes opening drowsily. "Morning, stud," Angie drawled.

She held him against her gently; his head rested on her chest, and he could
hear her heart beating slow, strong, and regular. He smiled and glanced at the
clock ...

"Oh shit! I'm late for school!"

Angie laughed. "School? What about work?"

"I work part time, go to college part time. Today's a class day. Dammit!"

"Relax, Eric, one day of missed classes shouldn't hurt you – unless there's
something due today, or a test?"

"No, I just hate to miss class. I'm really enjoying the stuff I learn." He
shrugged. "Well, I can still make my eleven o'clock."

"Tell you what, Eric. Let's both play hooky today. I'll call work and have
them reschedule all my clients for another day, or have someone else cover for
me, and we can spend the day together."

Eric looked at Angie's naked body and smiled. "You know what? That sounds
pretty good."

"Okay, I'll make a call." Still nude, Angie padded over to the phone on her
desk and called the gym. "Hi Cassie. Who do I have scheduled for today?" After
listening a few minutes, she said, "Have Jill take Clint's appointment – it's
cardio today. And split up the others, okay? No, I'm fine, I just want to take
the day off. Okay, see you tomorrow."

"What do you do, by the way? We never got around to that last night," Eric
asked.

Angie returned to the bed where Eric waited. His hand moved automatically to
caress her thigh, and she shivered. "I own a gym," she said. "It's a really
nice one, and I enjoy the work I do. Profitable too," she said with a grin.

"And you have to call in to find out your schedule? Why don't you put it on
your web site?"

Angie's eyebrows rose. "Well, first of all we don't have a web site. Second,
what do you know about it?"

Eric replied, "I'm going for a degree in software engineering, with a
specialty in networking and web design."

Angie sat down and ran her fingers over Eric's chest. "So what are you doing
in a department store selling women's clothes?"

He laughed. "Only part-time job I could get at the time. Besides, it's not so
bad. I just hope I can get a better job when I graduate in a couple of months,
though."

"I've got an idea. What's your class schedule like? Even better, what's your
work schedule like?"

"I work Monday, Friday, and Saturday. Classes on Tuesday and Thursday,
homework on Wednesday and Sunday. Why?"

"I think my gym needs a web site. I think you should quit your job and come to
work for me two days a week – I'll give you Saturdays off. And I'll bet I can
offer more money than you're making now."

"I don't want charity," Eric said stiffly.

"What charity? You think I need a presence on the web and I agree. I want you
to build it for me. You're going to work hard for your pay, believe me."

"Okay, sorry. I just..."

Angie laughed. "Hey, stud, you're cute and you're nice, but business is
business. How much notice do you need to give at the store?"

"Two weeks is probably good enough."

"Great. And we can go shopping for whatever hardware you think we need. We've
got PCs at work, of course, but if you think we need to upgrade, we can."

"Sounds good to me. I'll need to look at your current setup." He laughed.

"What?"

"This is a strange conversation to be having with a beautiful, muscular, naked
lady."

"You're right – let's stop talking." She lazily pulled him between her thighs
and squeezed gently. Eric moaned in mingled pain and desire. "Get to work,
stud. I'm in the mood for sex before breakfast." She grinned voraciously. "And
after breakfast. And after lunch..."

They played all day, alternating between the bedroom and the pool in the back
yard. Emily and Louis remained invisible, except for the times when Angie
requested refreshments. During the day Angie worked on Eric's self-confidence,
and how to act around muscular women. By the end of the day he was much more
relaxed around her, and she felt he would be able to continue his explorations
of muscular females, hopefully with women who were closer to his age, on his
own.

Much later, Angie rode Eric to his apartment on the back of her Harley. He
changed clothes there, choosing jeans and a t-shirt, then they rode to her
gym. It was after ten, and all of the trainers had left for the day. "Wow,"
Eric said, "this is quite a setup."

Angie looked around proudly. "Yup, I like it. Come on, I'll give you the
quarter tour." They went through all the exercise rooms, the steam room and
sauna (both co-ed), and the pool in the basement. "Now here's the real money
maker," Angie said, leading him to the private elevator and riding up to the
second floor. She opened the door to the first suite and showed him around.

"You bring men up here and wrestle them?" Eric asked.

"Mostly men, and not just wrestling. They can use the hour for whatever they
want, within reason. Some use it for private martial arts training and
sparring, some use it for muscle worship, but most use it for wrestling with a
strong woman." Angie watched Eric closely, ready for a negative reaction.

"That's terrific," Eric said, pleasing Angie. "I'd never be able to afford
anything like it, of course, but it's something I'd take advantage of if I
could." He frowned thoughtfully and asked, "Is it completely legal?"

"Probably not," Angie replied. "Fortunately my list of clients includes the
chief of police, the mayor, and a local judge, not to mention several
prominent businessmen. I don't think any of them are going to complain." She
thought about Annabelle Lewis and snickered at the thought that her husband
was one of her most fervent admirers.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just thinking about some of my clientele." She picked Eric up in her
arms, thrilling him, and carried him into the "hotel room" setting. She placed
him carefully on the bed and said, "Now I think we'll have a little ‘session'
of our own – and for once the prohibition on sex is going to be waived."

Eric stripped quickly. Angie pulled her muscle shirt off and removed her boots
and jeans. She stood in front of Eric, topless, in black thong panties. Her
eyes gleamed as Eric reached for her; she grabbed his wrists and pulled him
across her broad shoulders easily. Angie carried Eric around the room, then
tossed him back on the bed. She leaped on him and quickly maneuvered him into
a headscissors. "Now you're in a place where you can get badly hurt. You're
helpless, locked in between a pair of legs that are able to burst reinforced
medicine balls. If I wanted I could crush your skull flat. Fortunately for you
I like you." She constricted her thighs slightly, giving Eric a taste of her
leg power. He moaned and put his hands on her thick thighs, feeling the muscle
power that could easily destroy him. Angie smiled and relaxed the pressure a
bit, watching as his erection grew while he explored her sinewy legs with his
hands.

Angie changed their positions so that she was sitting on his chest; Eric's
arms were pinned between her calves and thighs, and his mouth was in close
proximity to her crotch. Ripping her thong off with her powerful hands, she
exposed herself completely and eased closer to Eric's face. "Oral sex
definitely has its uses," she said. "I recommend that you get used to this
position if your fixation with strong women continues." She moved further
forward, covering Eric's mouth, and continued, "Better get to work – you don't
want your muscle mistress to get annoyed."

Eric complied quickly, bringing Angie to orgasm in moments. She covered his
face with her juices, and he swallowed at her command. Smiling, Angie turned
and replied in kind, taking him into her mouth and tickling his rod with her
tongue. He exploded almost instantly, filling her mouth. Angie swallowed and
smiled. "Mmm, you taste good," she said. She turned atop him and rubbed her
crotch over his naked stomach, gently sliding down to where she could engulf
his tool in her waiting pussy. One or two pulses of her internal muscles had
him hard again. She pinned his wrists to the bed over his head and moved her
breasts over his face, taunting him with their proximity. Eric strained to
reach her nipples with his tongue; Angie laughed and said, "You really want my
boobs, don't you?" Eventually Angie dropped her large tits onto his face.
Feeling herself close to orgasm, Angie raised and lowered her hips,
stimulating Eric until they both exploded in ecstasy.

Chapter 4: We Learn More About Angie

Angie rolled off Eric and wrapped her arms around him gently. She kissed him
tenderly. "I'd say you were about ready to take your place in society, young
man," she told him. "You know how to treat strong women now, and I think
you're confident enough to hold your own."

"Thanks," he said. "The last two days have been like a dream." He frowned.
"But I'm curious about you. How did you get to be like – this?" he asked,
running his hand over her muscular arm. "All I know is you own a gym and you
like to initiate guys like me to the wonders of being with a muscular woman.
How about some personal history?"

"You sure you want to know? I don't mind talking about myself, but you might
be bored."

"Nothing about you bores me," he said, batting his eyes.

Angie laughed. "Okay, you asked for it." She leaned back, and Eric rested his
head on her shoulder. "I'm what you might call a genetic freak. My dad was a
physicist who was involved in trying to perfect ‘cold fusion'. He was a
genius, by anyone's definition. My mom came from a long line of circus
acrobats, and she was extremely athletic. She was a champion pentathlete –
this was before the heptathlon for women. Apparently I got the best of both
sets of genes." She chuckled. "I was home-schooled, but was able to get a
certification of graduation from high school at thirteen. By sixteen I'd
graduated college with a BS in psychology. I got my masters at eighteen, and
my PhD at twenty."

Eric was astounded. "My God – I didn't know I was in the presence of a
genius."

"It wasn't easy," Angie said. "I wasn't able to have many personal
relationships. I was too intellectual for the kids my age and too young for my
classmates. And it didn't help that I was also a physical oddity." She flexed
her deltoid, raising Eric's head. "I was much stronger than anyone I came in
contact with, regardless of their size. Since I didn't attend a regular high
school, I didn't have the opportunity to engage in organized high school
sports. So I learned about individual sports, with a particular emphasis on
martial arts." She relaxed her deltoid again. "I also enjoyed being strong. I
liked the feeling I had after I pumped iron. I just didn't realize what effect
my physique would have on other people, both female and male."

"Really?" Eric said. "I'm not surprised you had an ‘effect' on others with
your physique."

"Yeah, well, you've just been enlightened," Angie said, nibbling at his ear.
"And I was just as naïve as you were when I was younger."

"I'm guessing something happened while you were in college that ‘enlightened'
you, right?"

"Good guess, grasshopper," Angie chuckled. "I was in grad school, going for my
masters, so I'd just turned 18. To celebrate, since 18 was the legal drinking
age in that particular state, a few of my dorm mates took me out to this
bar..."

"This is a really bitchin' place," Connie said as she led the way across the
crowded floor to the bar. "Take a look at that!" she continued, pointing to
the back of the room.

Angie could see, barely through the smoky gloom, what looked like a boxing
ring. "What gives – they have boxing here?"

"Nope – lots more fun than that," said Hope, as she ordered a pitcher of beer
and four glasses.

The bartender asked them all for ID, and Angie produced hers with a flourish.
He grinned and said, "Congratulations – first pitcher's on the house for the
birthday party."

Fran grabbed the pitcher and they each picked up a glass. Hope spotted an open
table and they quickly fought their way to it and sat, just before a bunch of
guys from the Delta frat got there. "Sorry boys," Hope said. "Better luck next
time."

"So what's with the ring?" Angie asked after they'd all filled their glasses
and drank.

"They get some drunk guy to agree to wrestle one of the bouncers," Connie
said.

"What's so hilarious about that? Why would a guy, even drunk, agree to do
that?"

"Check out the bouncers," Hope laughed. "They're all women."

Angie looked around and saw that Hope was right. The bouncers were all tall,
leggy women in cut-off jeans and crop tops.

"The great thing is that the women are all pro wrestlers – at least they've
all gone through the training. Whoever the guy chooses to wrestle beats the
shit out of him. I mean," she hastened to add, "no really brutal stuff. She
tosses him around for a while and squeezes the breath out of him, makes him
beg for mercy, then strip him to his underwear and lets him go."

Just then a woman in a mini-skirt, halter top and high-heeled boots came over
to their table. "Excuse me," she said to Angie, "could I have a word with
you?"

Thinking the woman was a cop, Angie said, "I'm legal," while fumbling with her
purse to get her ID.

"No, it's not that." She fished a card out of her boot and handed it to Angie.
"My name's Lainie Wilson. I'm the owner of this place, as well as a talent
scout for the pro-wrestling school I get all my bouncers from." She ran a
well-manicured finger along Angie's well-developed bicep. "Have you ever
thought about becoming a pro wrestler?"

"You think she'd be able to be a pro?" Connie asked.

"Honey, with those muscles and the tits she's got, she could write her own
ticket." Lainie looked at Angie, and Angie could see the dollar signs in her
eyes. "How about it, honey? You'd be a smash."

Angie handed the card back. "Thanks for the offer, Ms. Wilson, but I'm here to
get a degree, not participate in pro wrestling."

Lainie shrugged. "It's your decision – I just want you to know that with a
body like that, guys would have wet dreams about you squeezing ‘em out. A
couple of my girls wanted to know if you were gay – they're interested too.
Like I said, you could make a bundle wrestling, if you wanted."

"You turned her down?" Eric asked.

"Yeah – that wasn't in my plans, at least not then," Angie said. "But it
opened my eyes to what other people might want – their desires, their
fantasies."

"So what happened then?"

"I got an apartment off campus – in fact it was one town over – after I got my
Masters. I advertised in one of the local papers that I was willing and able
to wrestle men or women for a fee. Didn't use my own name, of course, and
specified no sex. To my surprise, I got more clients than I'd dreamed of – men
and women. I used the experiences to write my thesis for my doctorate."

"I bet that thesis was – controversial."

Angie grinned. "You'd win," she said. "The board wasn't at all sure that they
wanted to grant me a PhD based on my study of ‘The Psychology of Wrestling,
Fetishes, and Domination'. But they did."

"So what happened after you became a doctor?"

"Some of my former wrestling clients became my patients," Angie said with a
grin. "I made sure they knew that their fetishes didn't make them bad people,
and I even gave them a ‘fix' every now and then. My fees for that particular
therapy were quite a bit higher than those for regular sessions." She
chuckled. "I didn't exactly have the traditional office. I opened a storefront
gym, and one of the back rooms was my office. Another was the wrestling room."

"And then?"

"I decided I liked the wrestling therapy better than regular therapy. I wanted
a bigger gym – I'd been investing my fees, and being more intelligent than
most people I did very well in the market – so I had plenty of capital to buy
this old warehouse and have it converted to my specifications. And I hired
personal trainers who weren't averse to some extra income if they participated
in wrestling with their clients. My fame grew, but more in the underground, if
you know what I mean. Lots of my former trainers went on to their own gyms, or
to pro wrestling or boxing, and I'm happy for them. I'm happy to keep honing
my body and my skills to their utmost. And occasionally I find a lost soul who
needs to be educated about his or her fascination with the muscular female
form."

"Like me."

"Like you," Angie agreed. "And now I think it's time to stop talking." She
rolled them over and straddled him. After giving his waist a firm squeeze with
her legs, Angie pinned his shoulders to the mattress and slid down until she
felt his penis between her thighs. A gentle squeeze of her legs, coupled with
a firm pinch of his nipples, and he was almost instantly erect. She took him
inside her and moments later they both came. Angie squeezed him until she'd
milked all the juice from him, then lowered herself so her breasts were
compressed against his chest. She kissed him gently. "That's for being such a
good student," she said. "It's time you made your own way in the world of
strong women now."

"But I don't know where to start looking."

"The gym's closed for July Fourth, and I'm having a cookout in the back yard.
All the girls from the gym will be here, and I think you might find someone
who's interested in a young gentleman."

"I'll be here," he promised. "That's over two weeks away, so I'll have quit my
job at the store by then. What about the meantime?"

Angie grinned. "Stop by here after class tomorrow and I'll introduce you
around. You can glance over the setup and start your shopping list. I'll pay
for your time. After that," she said, flexing her biceps, "we'll just do what
comes naturally."

"Sounds good to me."

"Good – now, let's take one more shower together, then I'll give you a ride
home. And I expect you at the gym to start work right after the Fourth, got
it?"

"Yeah, no problem there." Eric chuckled and said, "This is gonna be
different."

"You've got that right."