Sally and me

Chapter 3 : My life  by nelek 


-"˛Haaah!"

I listened to the sounds coming from our basement, the sounds of Sally working
out. The stairs to our home gym go down from our living room, so lying on our
sofa is always the best place to observe her concert of groans and moans.
There are the sharp "˛hiss"s when she breathes in, the loud "˛hah"s when she
breathes out, the "˛ungh"s when she starts to struggling with the weight, the
roaring "˛aaargh"s when she mobilizes her last energies to complete another
rep, the exhausted "˛ahh"s when she can't and then, finally, there's the
aggressive and annoyed bark she lets out when she fails on an exercise.

-"˛Haaah!"

I know it's pretty much beyond belief for anyone who has ever met Sally that
there's anything in a gym she can't handle with ease. But seeing the amounts
of weight she uses is enough to shut anybody up. It would seem ridiculous to
watch her choose those gigantic dumbbells or load a bar with plate after plate
if she wouldn't go on and move them about with no struggle at all. More weight
than you and I could ever hope to handle only to loosen up. Just for a little
pump she goes way past the maximum for many people I know. Sally exceeds the
strongest guys in our school and probably in our whole city - simply to get
warmed up.

-"H-haaah!"

Of course I was in the basement earlier to watch her show of pumping iron. I
joined her workout to find her sitting upright on a bench pressing a barbell
from her chest over her head. It was mesmerizing, watching her immense body
contract and tighten under her shirt. Even though it was clearly an oversized
one, it was completely filled by her enormous body, clinging to her skin by
her sweat, showing off each and every contour of her physique. I headed
straight for the stationary bike, as it was the only exercise I can do that
somehow hides my growing cock. Sitting down and constantly moving my hips
makes it less obvious; although Sally goes into a state of trance during her
workouts anyway, ignoring most of what goes on around her.

-"Unnngh...hah!"

The thing about watching her work out is that I don't sport a boner all the
time. When I enter the gym and see her flexing, be it during an exercise or in
front of the mirror, I get hard. Obviously. But it doesn't take long for that
to go away when I see the amazing amounts of weight she works out with. It's
like my brain goes from "attraction" mode to "oh my fucking god" mode, where
my erection is ranked behind being out of breath just from watching and
muttering things like "holy shit". In this time I am able to spot her during
bench presses or just generally be around her without any embarrassing bulges
forming. Unfortunately, this only lasts until she takes a short break to do
some posing in front of our floor-to-ceiling mirror or some stretching
exercises. Then, my brain switches back and I have to get back on the bike.

-"Argh! Hah!"

This time I stayed for almost an hour before I had to excuse myself. I hopped
into the shower, took care of my business and planted myself on our couch with
today's paper to catch her grand finale before she gets ready for our cinema
night. It's a tradition we started a couple of years ago: every other week or
so we go to see a movie, followed by a bar where we talk for some time before
coming home. The cinema and the drinks are on our parents, who in turn got the
house for themselves. It's a win-win for everyone, not just because I get to
be close to Sally (ever went to see a horror movie with a girl, taller than
your average door and stronger than your average ox, gripping your hand in
fear and huddling herself against you? I tell ya, it's not that bad) and our
parents can do whatever they want to. I don't really want to think about it.

-"Aaargh ... ahh."

Clang!

Mhm, the sound of a barbell going back on the rack. Sally's obviously finished
her workout. I grabbed the newspaper again and read what was on tonight, with
the intention of looking as nonchalant as possible to avoid arousing any
suspicion as what I was really doing on that couch. See, just the sounds of
her sculpting herself to even huger proportions usually make my inner eye show
an X-rated movie starring her and a tiny bikini relaxing between sets by
gliding her hands over the hard surface of the sweaty masterpiece that is her
body, rewarding herself for the hard work she's done by letting her fingers
find their way into her thong and pleasure this goddess until she erupts in
one, big, loud, long, flexing climax that makes our entire house shudder in
the roar that comes from her most inner core.

Man, with thoughts like that I should get a medal for not just taking my dick
out right there in the living room and jack off devil-may-care. But, on the
other hand, it's thoughts like that that made me incredibly attentive about
even the most innocuous actions, as there is a little voice in my head that
tells me that everything I do could give me away. I guess when you lust after
your sister for a couple of years you get kind of paranoid about the most
innocent things. Which is probably what has saved my ass over all these years,
not revealing myself to her even though we spend a lot of time together and
even though I've done some very risky acts this summer. I don't know what's
gotten into me in the last couple of weeks and months, but I do know it has
brought me one best orgasm of my entire life after another.

I heard the stairs creak as Sally made her way up to the ground floor.
Adjusting the growing organ in my underpants I became perfectly presentable in
just a matter of seconds while at the same time this way of carrying my goods
prevents any embarrassing erections from showing. Another thing I've gotten
good at. Turning away from the door I looked at the newspaper again, trying to
get my mind to focus on the words printed there, but it was occupied in
anticipation by the fantastic view I was about to be treated. From the corner
of my eye I could see her head appearing, but I didn't move as part to of my
best "No, I'm not insanely turned on by you"-impression. Of course I could
still tell that she was still moving up the stairs, filling more and more of
that narrow staircase (well, narrow for her) as she ascended to our living
room, tilting her head slightly to get through under the low doorframe (well,
low for her). As the huge mass that was her body entered my field of vision, I
turned to her, watching her wait for me to move my feet away from the end of
the couch and then letting herself drop onto it, before finally moving my legs
back to where they where, only now lying on her gigantic thighs.

"Hey, Sal!"

Her face was soaking wet as several drops of fluid were running down the sides
of it, glueing two strands of hair to her face. The rest was tied together in
a ponytail revealing her neck, as wide as or maybe even wider than her jaw.
Her t-shirt was drenched with perspiration, tainting it dark and making it
stick to her where she sweated the most - her chest, shoulders and armpits.
Every bit of skin that wasn't covered by fabric was shining with moisture,
giving her the soft and feminine appearance of a porcelain puppet. At the same
time her physique, almost overflowing her seat with its hugeness, made her
look like the illegitimate love child of a tank and a bull. She was breathing
heavily, so it took her a couple of seconds to respond.

"Hey, little bro! Did you find anything?"

Again, I looked at the paper, concentrating hard on the words, as her body
odor started to fill the room. The scent was faint, but getting stronger each
passing second. I read her a few titles while she took her water bottle and
gulped down its remaining content. As she shook it to get out the last drops,
a ball of a bicep bulged out from her arm and excitedly jumped up and down
with every little shake of her hand. I watched as she stuck out her tongue to
the bottle neck to and licked it, catching every last bit of the precious
fluid, wishing she would do that do me. Sally leaned her head back and closed
her eyes, taking a deep, deep breath. My gaze, as it had become, went down to
her arms, and how they filled her sleeves. Usually there was a bit of space
left but I knew that day was her biceps and shoulders day, which was why her
poor shirt was stretched around her unflexed body. Her traps, two logs covered
in soft skin, ending just above her soccer ball-sized shoulders that made her
spread out wide and coming very close to me.

Switching between movie titles and my heartstoppingly big sister, I kept
reading while glancing at her mammoth biceps. Even though her arms were
relaxed, the fact that they were bent by letting them rest on the armrest and
my legs respectively made them jut out to a size that combined with her
triceps could easily destroy her sleeves with a single flex if she wanted to.
Diverting my eyes from this too-hot-to-handle sight I tried to figure out what
was the last thing I read out to her, which was harder than it sounds because
the image of her biceps has burned into my eyes. Everywhere I looked, there it
was, hot and throbbing. I shook my head and aimed my attention as well as I
could back on the paper, struggling to continue.

"But?"

What? What "but"? Sally was looking at me, awaiting the end of my last
sentence. I had no idea what I had said before. For a moment I felt panic
bubbling up in me, but then my ninja-samurai-like methods of covering my
tracks kicked in and I answered:

"But ... I ... am not keen on any of this movies, so you pick one."

Man, I'm good.

Still, I needed to cool down. If I was going to spend the evening with her I
couldn't get all excited before we even left the house. So I got up and headed
for the kitchen.

"You want something to drink, sis? Some water, orange juice?"

-"Oh, yes, thank you! Some juice, please." I knew she'd take that. She loves
orange juice.

Before I walked though the door I looked back and saw that Sally has gotten
up, following me and therefore ruining my plan of calming down away from her.
While I held the door open she picked up the newspaper and walked towards me
while reading, becoming larger and larger with each step. Her shirt, still wet
and wandering up her arms as her biceps push the sleeves back, hung down from
her like a curtain.

I mean, everything she wears is usually skintight as she likes to flaunt her
amazing body. But, as one can imagine, it's hard for her to find clothes that
fit. So about maybe two years ago, she started shopping in the men's
department since she had outgrown most girls' clothes by the age of sixteen.
It does work a lot better than it sounds, because Sally's got a talent for
sewing, because she has an exquisite sense for fashion, colors and patterns
and also because she lets me create designs based on pictures of girls'
clothes' she likes, which she then takes to a copy shop to have them print on
a shirt. Then, she alters them to fit her voluptuous physique, namely her
narrow waist, thus creating her very own clothing line. A very sexy clothing
line, to say the least. Even the production is exciting to watch, with that
behemoth of a girl sitting at her sewing-machine, delicately handling those
shirts and trousers in an expert manner, as a stark contrast to her monstrous
body and hulking muscles jutting out with every slight move. She doesn't grow
through that trouble for her gym clothes, which is why the oversized shirts
she uses fit snugly around her arms, shoulders and back, but seem extremely
loose around her trim belly.

Sally was still moving towards me, growing bigger as she came closer to me
until she reached her full size with her breasts about the height of my face,
her shoulders higher than my eye level and her biceps right under my nose.
When she walked by me, flashing me her beautiful smile as a thank you for
holding the door, I took a deep breath and sucked in the magnificent stink she
extruded. That smell has always got me a bit light-headed, and I had a short
vision of me leaning forward, sticking out my tongue and licking that biceps
as it floated past me. Immediately I cleared my head and followed the wall of
thick flesh that was her back into the kitchen, keeping myself close to the
warm, damp fabric and the scent that she gave off.

She told me that none of the films really interested her, while I took a
carton of orange juice out of the freezer and moved over to the cupboard and
got us two glasses. Putting them down next to where Sally left the newspaper,
I started filling both, while doing my best not to look at her leaning against
a counter or letting her see me inhaling deeply to get as much of her body
odor as possible. My cock, reacting to the pheromonal stimulation, tried
expanding but was luckily tucked safely in my underpants, able to thicken, but
not to point outwards. It's okay as long as I don't cross my legs.

"Thanks" she said, grabbed her glass and started to guzzle, emptying most of
it in a couple of swallows. Then she held it to her forehead to cool herself
down a little. With her eyes closed she said

"Mhm, that feel so good..."

I saw her putting it to her cheeks and "mhm"-ing again, so I quickly snatched
the paper and stood next to the window, pretending to go somewhere where
there's better light to read while I just wanted an excuse to turn my back to
her. I could hear her softly going "oh" and "ah", as she pressed the cold
container against parts of her head and chest. Suppressing lecherous thoughts
of her I grasped the edge of the work plate with my hands to steady myself and
stared straight down at the words, my refuge from getting over-sexy-ed. I
wanted her to stop.

"So, how was your workout?" I asked, while stepping to the side and leaning
against the wall, sipping my orange juice. Okay, not the best subject to talk
about when I wanted to get my mind on something else than her body, but there
was nothing else on my mind.

-"It was good - surprisingly. Didn't think I would have much energy today,
since I hit the sack quite late." she said with a smirk, referring to our
episode of late-night tickling. "But I still got a good pump, don't you
think?"

She raised one hand and apparently wanted to flex her biceps, but before I
could respond she had lowered it again and motioned me to wait as if she
thought of something.

-"Just a sec."

Sally put her glass down, crossed her arms before her bosom and grasped the
front of her t-shirt. Arching her back she pushed her breasts out, seemingly
in my face even though she was standing a couple of feet away. Slowly she
began to peel off her shirt, lifting it higher and higher to uncover more of
her wonderful body. I licked my lips as row after row of a marvelous set of
abs appeared, each one the size and thickness of a bar of soap. Her skin was
coated in a light sheen of sweat, giving it an ethereal glow and accentuating
every single part of her glistening body. She reached her tits to reveal those
supreme treasures trapped and poorly contained in a sports bra that looked
like it had gotten too small for her a long time ago. Those two balls were
mushed together until her arms wandered over her head, covering her face and
giving me the chance to swallow hard; looking forward to see her struggle now
that she's reached the tight fitting parts. The dampness of the shirt
increased the difficulty of not simply tearing the shirt apart (I've seen it
happen) as it reluctantly let itself be unglued from her back and breasts.

Then, with her arms stretched over her head, she pulled one last time to get
the shirt off, making it sail into the air, hoisted like a flag. She stood
there for a second before dumping it on the countertop. Then she put her fists
on her hips, revealing her glorious totality, every lustrous bulge being
brought to prominence even though she was just standing there. All I could see
was her immense body, her unreasonable size that simultaneously screamed power
and sensual femininity. Sally's mouth widened as if in realization of the face
that she's perfection in person, letting her dimples frame her beautiful
smile.

Still standing there with her arms akimbo, so tall, so broad, so wide,
literally expanding in every direction. She was right the day before when she
said that I looked small; anybody does next to her. I looked up at her and
nodded in approval of the effort and achievement she was so proud of. Even
though I was majorly erect, my face only expressed compliments, not lust.

And even though I knew what was gonna happen next, I was still not prepared
for the sight.

She smiled and lifted one arm for a biceps flex. The ball grew while she
raised it to her shoulder height, bulging out towards the sky, showing a
pulsing vein running over it. Slowly bending her arm, she laboriously
tightened it into a mass the size of a bowling ball with a baseball sitting on
top. She turned her head and looked down at the muscle she was presenting me.
It seemed like her biceps was trying to flee from her triceps, as separated
and defined the two blocks of meat were. Her lat spread out, forming a curve
that connected her massive arm to her equally impressing torso while her now
exposed armpit almost drowned me in her body odor. I inhaled deeply, taking in
the rich musk, the almost bittersweet smell of her natural perfume, the
compelling pheromones she oozed out just for me, an irresistible potion to
drive a man wild. It was the taste of incredible power, hard muscle and raw
sex; things that have always gone hand in hand for me.

Her teeth gritted as she proudly held the pose for my admiration, but soon
gave way for a big smile the second she saw my awe. She turned back to her
arm, seemingly studying it, examining the chunk of flesh with the slightly
throbbing vein on top of it. The sharp contour of her bicep grew a little more
as she flexed a bit harder, moving her forearm a tad higher to get out another
quarter-inch of flesh. Alternately straightening and bending her arm,
lengthening her biceps and pushing it back up she pumped this block of hard
tissue a few times before slowly bringing it back into position, letting out a
small grunt of "mmph" as she tightened it. Already it was bigger than anything
I had ever seen, let alone in person, up close, while getting entranced by her
bodily scents.

With her left hand on her right biceps touching the impenetrable tissue she
said:

-"Yeah, that is a good pump. You wanna feel it?"

I nearly choked on my orange juice. I would have loved to but I decided to
keep up my facade.

"No, thank you, Sal. I'm good." I laughed sarcastically "You're all sweaty
and, frankly, you stink like ."

Ah, the best disguise one can have: the annoying little brother.

-"Oh, come on, don't be like that. I just wanna show you my how hard I've
worked."

Hell, I must be the luckiest guy in the world. There she was, the ultimate
girl from my fantasies, asking me to feel her up. It wouldn't be realistic to
refuse any more, given the fact I've humored her and felt her body many times
before.

"Well, if you insist. I guess I can wash my hands later."

Taking another sip from my juice, I put down the glass and stepped towards
her, unknowing that she too stepped towards me at the same time, making me
stand much closer to her than I intended. With her shining body, her
protruding breasts and her fragrant pit this near to my face I could feel
myself getting overwhelmed in a wave of forbidden lust. Uncomfortably gaping
up at her - when you're a skinny little brother standing only inches away from
you gargantuan sister, knowing there's more strength in her little finger than
in your entire body, it's okay to appear a bit uncomfortable - I raised my
hand towards her arm, still up in that alluring pose.

Seeing that I'd have to move my hand higher than my eye level to reach it, she
changed her posture: bending her upper body sideways to lower her biceps she
held it right before my face, steadying herself by extending one leg. Her arm
was now at a 45Ā° angle to the floor, its peak hovering right under my nose.

Beaming with pride, she was standing there watching my hand approach her
offerings, almost moving like in slow-motion. I touched the warm ball with my
fingertips, lightly squeezing it. Obviously it didn't budge, not the slightest
bit. I tried harder, pushing my fingers into it, its surface slightly slippery
from the layer of moisture covering it. It felt like I was trying to dent a
steel ball covered in soft skin. We've done this often enough, me testing her
development by feeling it, so I knew that petting her arm a bit wasn't enough
for her. Still, I looked up at her face in a "that feels really hard, as I
expected, sis"-way, hoping she would be satisfied with my wordless compliment.
She looked back at me and smiled me her "No, really, you gotta feel it"-smile.

So I put my palm on the huge thing in front of me, enjoying my cock growing
what felt like another inch in my pants. My hand grasped the chunk of beef,
trying to dig into it. I felt the incredible mass, its hardness as my fingers
moved over every small bulge on that one big bulge. You don't know how hard an
arm - a girl's arm even - can get until you're actually feeling one. Gliding
over the pulsating skin, I took every chance to poke the solid balloon to
confirm the obvious steeliness. She started rotating her fist, making the ball
under my hands dance up and down, left and right.

God, she didn't know what she was doing to me. She is so innocent, so
oblivious. For her, it is about sculpting the perfect body, an aesthetic
masterpiece of outstanding muscularity. About being stronger than several men,
defying the idea of a petite girl. About defeating one's limits again and
again to achieve a seemingly impossible to reach goals. And about keeping to
set new, unbelievable marks to accomplish. She's done all that, and more. But
to show willpower, not to become a lust object. Demonstrate strength, not
being fuel for fetishes. To be the living and breathing trophy of what man can
do and not to please some weirdo with a thing for muscly ladies.

She doesn't think about how exactly these things make her absolute sex in
human form for some people. That her tall, huge, brawny and powerful body make
some men go crazy with lust.

And that her brother is one of them.

I retreated my hand while Sally relaxed her arm and put it on her hips again,
standing tall again.

-"Well?"

Her grin showed me that she already knew the answer.

"Hard as a rock, Sal."

-"Wasn't expecting anything else." she joked. "Wanna feel the other one?" she
asked while moving her other arm. Instead of raising it to shoulder height
like before she leaned forward a bit and held her forearm parallel to the
floor, right in front of her stomach, like half of a most-muscular pose.
Again, a human skin-colored anaconda was put almost right in my face, this
time with her whole physique towering over me, making the sight so much more
intimidating. A massive peak grew out of her arm, making it too big to wrap my
hands around it. Although I was invited to try, I knew that for the sake of my
disguise I shouldn't.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm sure it's just as mutated as the other one."

She laughed and stood fully erect again.

-"Okay, then. I am now going to hit the shower, while you pick a movie, okay?"

I nodded and turned to the newspaper lying on the work plate, while she
started to walk out of the kitchen. Reading the film titles, I noticed her
sweat-soaked shirt still placed next to the paper. I was hoping she would
forget and leave it there, so that I could have some alone time drinking her
nectar out of it, but my hopes were brushed away as she hopped back through
the door, picked it up and went upstairs.

As soon as I heard her close the bathroom door I let out a long and loud moan,
right there in the middle of the kitchen. Pressing my crotch against the
counter I brought up my fingers to my face, sucking the smell from it, filling
my nostrils. Moving away from the window I opened my pants and slid my other
hand in there, took my cock and started stroking it, lubricated by the small
puddle of precum I've produced. My fingers found their way into my mouth,
making me lap the sensual juices still sticking to them while imagining
Sally's fabulous body under the running shower. I took my dick out of my
trousers, leaned against a wall and started jerking it. Standing there, fully
erect, my pants around my knees, panting heavily, I jacked off like there was
no tomorrow. Images of her, testing the hardness of her huge arms, licking
them to taste the salty sweat and letting her tongue run down from her peaked
biceps to her deep armpit flooded my brain as I was reaching climax.
Frantically I grabbed a glass and held it over my penis, just in time for me
to unload myself. An intense roar left my mouth as I shot spurt after spurt of
my semen into it.

After I was done squirting, I realized that I just masturbated in our kitchen.
I looked around to check if any of my come had gone anywhere it shouldn't
while wiping my dick with a napkin. Lifting the glass to my eyes, I saw the
milky globs of my jizz slowly disappearing into the orange juice. This was the
one Sally has drunk out of just a couple of minutes ago. A disgusting thought
entered my head: what if I left it here and let her drink it when she comes
back from the shower? I was appalled by myself while at the same time the idea
of her drinking my cum excited me. Maybe she'd like the taste and want more.
And since this Sally we're talking about, as short glimpse at her body would
be enough for me to give her as much of it as she wants. As interesting as it
was, I quickly discarded the idea and went on to thoroughly wash the glass
before putting it into the dishwasher.

Sipping the last remainders of her scent I went back into the living room and
plopped down on the couch again. When has it come so far that I jack off in
our kitchen? I've been lusting after my big sister for several years and have
always prided myself with absolute discretion. Reacting adequately to the
incestuous desire I have in me, by keeping it secret, not letting any evidence
or even hints behind. Like, when a similar thing happened a week or so before
that. Sally came from her training, sweating like she worked out in hell and
wanted me to feel the pump she got in her arms. Of course, being a good
brother I obliged and felt them. And as every good brother would after
fondling his sister's hot, moist, perspiring body for his own perverted urges
I waited till she went to the bathroom, waited until after I heard her lock
the door and only then shut myself in our first floor toilet to do my
business. Now, I can't even wait to leave the kitchen.

But that's love for you, isn't it? Yes, it probably looks like I only lust for
her body, being jack-off-material that conveniently lives in the room opposite
of mine, but I do truly love her. Her gentleness and being so down-to-earth
even though she is a goddess, her maturity and intelligence even though she is
a muscle beast, her sense of humor and the smile she's sporting all the time.
I think I could control myself better if I had only the hots but no real
feeling for her, but the fact is I am madly in love with her. In love with
everything she is and everything she does, even the things I hate about her.
Like when she comes into my room without knocking. It's so rude and annoying
especially as I have to be extra careful of what I do in there because of
that. Or when she thinks nobody's looking she picks her nose and - if she's
got nothing to wipe it on - eats it. This grosses the hell out of me, but I'm
still in love. I can't say it often enough. I love her. I love Sally.

We always had a great brother-sister relationship (including the occasional
fighting and teasing, naturally), ever since we were children. Before our
teens, I was slightly bigger than her, although not much, as she was always
quite tall and athletic for her age. Then, at 13, when she started working out
and growing (and, boy, did she grow), her gracious demeanor blossomed along
with her body, making her such a desirable person, physically as well as
mentally.

We were always close for siblings, don't ask me why. I mean I know why we've
grown so close in the last couple of years. A large part of the reason for
that is simply my attraction to her, trying to spend as much time with her as
possible. Which is also why my brotherly love turned into real feelings,
because that's what happens when the person you are the closest to in the
world also happens to be the ultimate fulfillment of all of your sexual
fantasies and you spend every day with her. Also, it can't help if that person
has a tendency to be quite physical.

Sally is always very personal with people, like greeting them with a peck on
the cheek or hugging them close, sometimes tickling them just for fun. Saying
hello or goodbye to her is never just a handshake or a pat on the back, it's
always the full round of embraces, kisses and at least ruffling one's hair.
For me and my longing for her body, this is nothing to complain about. In
fact, as her brother, I get more than my fair share of bodily contacts with
her. Like when she realized how strong she had become a couple of years ago,
she started to pick me up and carry me around the house. At first it was fun
for both of us, but after some time I had to ask her to stop. I told her I get
dizzy from being lifted and shaken around, but the truth was that I was
getting hard in her arms and was afraid it might poke her. However, this has
not stopped her from draping a heavy arm over my shoulders every time she
stands next to me or leaning down and kissing me on my forehead to emphasize
her height or hugging me tightly to her immense body without letting me go or
taking me between her mighty legs and squeeze me for her own amusement. You
know, the usual big sister teasing.

Or, just like what happened last week. It was a boring, rainy afternoon and we
were hanging around in my room, killing time. I was doing stuff on facebook
while Sally was lying on my bed, reading one of my magazines. An art magazine,
not whatever you were thinking. In between chatting with a few friends who
didn't go on holiday that summer I kept glancing at her, enjoying the view of
the statuesque beauty just a couple of feet away. She took up a lot of the
bed's breadth, leaving only very little room for a second person. Her t-shirt
ended about halfway down her deltoids, covering only a small part of the balls
she had for shoulders. She had shortened the sleeves once after she tore them
open when trying to push her arms through. Though not flexed, they bulged
outwards, creating a mass of delicious meat before my eyes, slightly twitching
every time she turned a page.

While I was thinking of a way of secretly pointing my webcam at her - wanting
to film the way she was being so sexy even though not doing anything - I saw
her stirring and grimacing as if she was uncomfortable. She sat up, arching
her back forward, extending her arms straight, pushing her sizable triceps out
and her breasts together, before pulling her elbows to her sides, biceps
swelling to unreal proportions as she stretched her back, thrusting her heavy
bosom out, making it press tightly against her shirt. Raising her long arms in
the air over her head, she bent her upper body to one side, then to the other,
letting the fabric on her abs go up one muscular row after another. She
noticed me staring at her and stopped her show, straightening her shirt.

-"I guess I slept in a weird position tonight. My back's been tense all day."

I watched her doing a few more stretching exercises, trying to get the ache
out. You know, I am in fact able to look at her without immediately sporting
an erection, but to have her writhing and twisting her herculean body, parts
of her expanding and exploding, softly moaning as her strong hands kneaded her
shoulders and everything they could reach, all that right in front of me, in
my bed, can do a number on me. Which could explain what happened next.

"Want me to massage you?"

No idea where that came from. I've massaged her before, but I've never
suggested it. I was afraid she might think something of my offer but she
readily accepted and laid down on her stomach, inviting me to go aboard her
aircraft-carrier-sized back. Kneeling down, my skinny calves on either side of
her immense thighs, I leaned my butt against hers to steady myself. I surveyed
the vast expanse of fabric-covered concrete, looking big enough for a plane to
land on and adjusted my growing member. This time I didn't push down to lodge
it between my legs - as it could be pressing against her backside when I sit
on it - but stashed it sort of sideways, letting my belt hold it. Sally
arranged the cushion and brushed her hair out of the way, giving me a quick
demonstration of how even the most subtle and mundane movements make the
bulges on her arms and back jut out. She laid her head on the pillow, closing
her eyes and let out a breath.

Laying my hands on the warm fabric covering her back I was amazed again at how
much body heat she produced. No wonder that on a rather cool day like that she
wore a top not even covering her arms or reaching her cut-off pants. Moving
from the middle of the field in front of me I let my palms glide up, over the
the knobs of her beefy back, to her shoulders. I grabbed the chunks of flesh
she had for traps and squeezed them while my thumbs dug into the back of her
neck. She moaned, quietly, barely loud enough for me to hear it, but enough so
I knew I had hit a tense spot. My fingers grasped those two logs harder,
digging my fingers in and pressing the balls of my hands into them while my
thumbs moved in a circular motion. Rhythmically contracting and relaxing my
hands Icontinued until I could feel her gradually loosen up while her
breathing slowed a bit.

My hands slowly wandered sideways, away from her neck but still massaging each
of her protruding traps. Even though she wasn't tightening those muscles, they
were still firm blocks of tissue, feeling near iron-like under my touch. I
loved the sensation of them completely filling my hand, even overflowing them.
They were thick, round pipes connecting her ball-shaped and -sized shoulders
to her broad, bull-like neck, almost ridiculing anyone's effort to build an
equally imposing body like the one I had right under me.

Going south, slowly fingering my way towards the middle of her back, right in
between where her shoulder blades would be, if they weren't buried under
inches of meat. Pushing my hands into it, I felt my erection ooze a bit of a
very familiar liquid after it had been rebelling against my belt for a couple
of minutes now. It occurred to me that a naughty fantasy of mine starts out
with the exact same situation as I was in right now. Naturally, there were a
few differences. For instance, in my dream it's Sally who asks for a massage
rather than me suggesting it. Also, she's just coming from her workout, having
her body coated in a layer of scented moisture, taking her shirt off to cool
herself, laying down in my bed, personally lifting me up and placing me on her
back, letting me dig into the wavy land that is her naked skin, asking me to
remove excess sweat with my tongue, taking off her bra to give me, as she puts
it, "full access" before she eventually turns on her back and wants me to do
her front as well. I usually don't last for much longer than this part, but if
I am able to control myself, it would end with me on my back and her
alternating between doing my front and flexing for me while being impaled on
my hard cock.

Back in the real world and properly turned on right now, I gave in to the
temptation of testing her hardness and briskly pressed on the mass in front of
me. Of course it only budged the tiniest bit, so I tried again, harder. The
solid material resisted any attempts to get dented, so I moved forward and
pushed my arms down on the firm space spread out for my pleasure. I kept
pushing in a rhythmical fashion, giving the appearance of a rather strong
massage, while I was just servicing my fetish for strong female bodies using
the strongest female body I knew. To put in more of my body weight I lifted my
behind in the air and leaned forward, thrusting my hands deeper into her.
Repeating the motion while slowly moving over the field, I managed to get out
a slight moan from Sally. Now I knew I was doing it right.

I licked my lips as I noticed that my mouth had been wide open in a sort
dry-drool/silent-groan kind of way. My pelvis moved around aimlessly, bucking,
humping nothing but thin air. I kept on handling the tense area on her back,
with not even close to all of my strength, but with significantly more power
than I would massage any regular person. With my hands more than just rubbing
her back, almost leaving imprints, my face contorted in grimaces trying to
give the girl of my dreams the massage of a lifetime. Well, as long as it's in
my power, at least. Sally's increased "mhm"s and "ah"s as well as her
directions to the exact spots where the now released tension was the worst
made me work the dense muscle harder, determined to erase any of her pain. For
minutes I patted her back, caressed it, stroked it, rubbed, kneaded, pressed
and pushed -

"Beepbeepbeep!"

Both Sally and me were deep in the moment, her being utterly relaxed and me
being utterly concentrated, when the loud ring of my cell phone startled the
two of us. It was a simple text message that made her shake involuntarily,
making me sitting on top of it feel like in a short earthquake. We were
looking over to the table where the phone was lying, still dumbfounded for a
second, then Sally started to sit up. She propped her body on her arms,
pushing herself and me up with it, making me land on her tensed ass. A
mountain of a body with back like a ski slope rose in front of me, making me
crane my neck to see its peak. I climbed off her and stood on the floor,
watching her majestic shape reach its full size only inches away from me. With
her eyes closed, she gave off a long, satisfied "mmmh" and let her arms wander
up into the air, arching her back. That pushed her breasts out so much that I
tilted my head to avoid contact with them, even though she wasn't standing
close enough for that to happen. Her whole physique is so huge, she looks like
she fills out any room, either literally or just by an amazing optical
illusion. Towering over you with broader legs, arms shoulders and back, there
seems to be no evading her. She dropped her arms and stood relaxed again.

-"Jake, you've got magical hands. My back feels as good as new. Thank you."

That was one of the moments I'm living for. Being close to her so I can
appreciate her immense beauty while making her feel good at the same time. So
far I've been doing a good job, I guess. Since that massage last week she has
asked me for another one twice. Once I refused, but the other time I indulged
myself. Oh yes, indulge I did. I mean, as long as I'm doing something nice to
her, there's no reason I shouldn't be able to enjoy myself.

Just like with the cinema. I took the paper and looked for a movie she would
like, wanting to make this evening as nice as possible for her. A couple of
minutes later Sally came bouncing down from the stairs, dried and dressed in a
very casual but sexy manner. A blouse over a t-shirt, both not skin-tight but
still tailored to reveal every single one of her gorgeous curves underneath. I
told you she's good at that. I got up from the couch and started walking
towards the hall where Sally was already putting on her coat and shoes.

-"Aw, crap, it's raining." she said while she looked out the front door.
Grabbing an umbrella while I got dressed she stepped outside and opened it up,
standing under it and waiting for me. When I was done, she extended her arm
and put it round my back, pulling me close to her as to protect me from the
pouring rain. Walking down the road with her heavy arm on my shoulders,
feeling her wonderful scent of soap and magnolias, I thought to myself -

My life's not bad.

End of chapter 3.

You ideas or wishes, comments or criticism, bank account or pin numbers are
always appreciated, so write me now! Even if you have already written me,
write again. I'm always happy to read your mails.

nelek@gmx.at

Also, sorry for the long wait between chapters. I vow to do the next one
faster.