Sally and Me
By Nelek
Chapter 6: The Workout  Part II 


With a bottle in each hand I returned to the basement, buzzing in anticipation
for what mind-boggling feats and unearthly pleasures Sally would present me
with. And with my first step into our home gym I knew I wasn't going to be
disappointed.

It had been only a short time since I closed the windows, but it was enough
for her to fill the entire room with her supreme aroma. Some would think this
is the same ordinary pungent stink you would find in a locker room full of men
after a game, soaking themselves in the foulness of their socks. What fools.
To me - a connoisseur of this, the most magnificent of natural fragrances -
this is the most womanly of all perfumes. Pumping iron make her delicious
perspiration drip from her skin like pearls of honey, while giving off the
most exquisitely bittersweet of scents. Any man would go wild with rabid lust
for this mighty goddess when she starts exuding this incredible odor with
powerful pheromones from her immense body. It gives me butterflies every time
I encounter it, just like this time as I closed my eyes and deeply inhaled the
official taste of her unreal muscles and strength. I swear, it would be enough
if she simply raised an arm, sweaty as it must have been that very moment, and
expose her savory pit of rich, salty musk to make me surrender all my pretense
about not being entirely stricken by her awe-inspiring beauty that caters to
all senses.

With my second step into the gym area the first look confirmed what my
previous intake of air just prepared me for. Looking around for Sally - on the
one hand because I wanted to give back her bottle, on the other hand to get a
good look at whatever physical exertion was producing this ambrosial
atmosphere I was basking in - I found her hidden away in a corner of our
well-equipped gym. There she was, dangling from our Smith machine set-up to
serve as a chin-up bar, her upper legs raised to compose a perfect 90-degree
angle with her upper body while her calves hung exactly perpendicular to the
floor. Her face was dead serious. Eyes that otherwise sparkled in a lush hue
were concentrating on nothing but the exercise she was doing, and lips that
instead of producing their usual captivating smile were thin and pulled back
with the tension that seemed to have charged her whole self.

She had taken off her shirt and placed it on a nearby machine, obviously to
cool off as her body heat alone had warmed up the room quite a bit. To me,
this meant being able to gaze freely at her hefty physique clad only in sweat
pants and a tight sports bra, revealing most of the lustrous naked skin from
her forehead to below her belly button. As I stepped closer to her stationary
form, the cloud of her overwhelming perfume got denser and denser, drowning me
in her wonderful stench. Her face was still contorted with a determined
expression, completely ignoring the numerous beads of perspiration that graced
its side, pausing as the rest of her was, waiting for some movement that would
allow them to roll down her cheek and neck. Which by the way, was, in that
instant, closely adorned by her gleaming chunky traps and ball-shaped and
-sized shoulders. Sally's hands were raised high above her head and covered in
professional wrist-wraps, as they tightly gripped the bar floating several
feet above the ground.

You know how some people like the look of huge, rotund forearms that
dramatically narrow down to a small wrist, whereas others like them rather
stocky and fleshy? Well, with Sal I get to enjoy both. Not only does she sport
beefy wrists that I couldn't possibly wrap my hand around, but also forearms
that explode to spectacular girth towards her elbows, exceeding many a men's
biceps. And her biceps, hoo-boy. Her arms, even as the weight of her immense
body pulled them completely straight, produced whopping biceps that bulged
excitingly with their inherent power. Two hemispheres, unimaginably thick as
well as round, rippled with untold strength as they rose to globes of chiseled
flesh. Those big lumps of solidity jutted left and right, forming a frame
around her head as if they were drawn towards her cheeks. Blood and brawn
worked together with a fat vein, thick and throbbing to feed the enormous
hunks of beef, running over the ballooning masses to bring her awesome
muscularity near the bursting point. Intensely striated triceps fought to
match the outer flanks of each arm to the protrusion sculpted by the inner
sides. Ridges of cabled, lined meat bowed into visions of pulsing
magnificence, with arcs of impossible depth forming giant horseshoe-shaped
masses.

Right underneath where her arms connected to her torso were her arching back
muscles, flaring out extensively to each side. Pumped lats spread to plentiful
proportions, blossoming with aesthetically hardened richness. Fanning
voluminously away from their base, hanging over an amazingly narrow waist,
they seemed to fill up most of the air around her. In between stood her
mountainous chest, consisting of two plates of absolute superlatives,
appropriately reflecting her power through their sheer vastness. It was a
closed canyon of vertically muscled walls, swelling up and crashing together
along the deep central dividing line of pectoral cleavage with each
ever-so-slight move. Served on the two plates were her glorious breasts, held
in a wrapper of damp fabric that snugly caressed their alluring curves. A
thick layer of exhilarating sweat covered all of her immaculate skin, carving
out even more out of her already incredibly sinewy definition.

I wanted to marvel at her sublime abdominals, when she started moving - though
not in the way I had expected. Since she was hanging from a bar, knees bent,
legs lifted to form a right angle with her upper body, I figured she was going
to do simple pull-ups. But I was wrong, as Sally was once again about to amaze
me with the grueling exercises she puts herself through.

Instead of raising herself up with her arms, she continued arching her lower
body upward. At first, her knees started to rise, traveling towards her
massive chest. Her absurdly thick abs tightened into more-than-inch-deep
trenches as she kept her back ruler-straight and slowly lifted her feet higher
and higher. Describing a beautiful semicircle her legs kept unfolding until
they were almost completely extended, raising them to the level of her chin.
Soon her shoes wandered above her head, followed by her shins before almost
making contact with the bar she was hanging from. It was like watching
somebody trying to touch his toes while standing straight - only that Sally
was doing it suspended in the air and against gravity.

It's called a "Hanging Pike" or just "The Pike". While hanging from a rack you
extend your lower body and raise it in order to work your abs to the extreme -
either to waist level or, if you're doing advanced training, right up to your
hands. Some time later, after witnessing it live and in color, I asked Sally
about the exercise. Of course, I had read up on it on the Internet in advance
so she wasn't telling me anything new - but the way she told me was worth
learning about it twice. She started talking me through the steps, how to do
it properly, and how some people cheat by swinging and using momentum even
though it renders the whole thing completely pointless. Also, she explained
what precautions I should take when attempting it, sounding as if she
seriously believed I could do it if I tried. She's just so sweet and caring
and motivating, which is why I love her. But what really took the cake was
when she explained exactly how the exercise targets the abs. To further
illustrate the lecture, she lifted her t-shirt to reveal her pack of marble
lumps of beef, pointing at individual muscle groups, flexing them for me to
emphasize the... um... something. I dunno, actually. It was kinda hard to
focus on what she was saying after she started doing that.

Yet I do distinctly remember how her abdominals and obliques stood prominently
in the center of her midsection. Hardened chunks of flesh were billowing
separately in the concave bowl of her receding stomach, displaying shredded
muscles contained in the vacuumed swale of her unbelievably small midriff.
Every mound stood out boldly from the surrounding ravines that separated
prodigious hilltop from prodigious hilltop, invitingly cut to lure my tongue
into following the dales and riverbeds of her three-dimensional relief map.
She shifted her upper body, turning left and right, bending to and fro to
visualize the enthralling interplay between each and every pulsing chunk and
chord protruding under her skin - some of them wouldn't even be visible on any
normal person's frame. The lattice of wonderful cobblestones slipped from
solid rock to flowing lava and back, every time she commanded them to.
Opposing muscle seemed to play with my eyes as they were constantly twitching
every time she even just slightly repositioned herself. Continuing to
demonstrate her deeply carved six-pack, her long fingers traced the shape of
each of her skin-covered bricks. Running through her forbidden channels, I
envied her digits that had round the clock access to these treasures of
complete power and beauty. They went along the corners of her beyond-belief-ly
etched belly, intended as an addition to a factual talk about the human
anatomy, not as a sensuous spectacle of oozing eroticism, which was the way I
had experienced it.

Returning to the gym from this short flashback, Sally had finished the first
of what was going to be several reps. The whole routine lasted only a few
seconds, even though it was performed with utmost care and grace, bringing her
big body back in its original position again. I noticed the pair of ankle
weights she had strapped around her, actually the largest we have in the
house. The realization of her having just done this murderous exercise, her
obvious intention to steadily continue as well as the added weight she needed
to give her a challenge made me feel kind of dizzy. I urgently needed to step
away from this scene, but first I had to put her bottle down someplace.

Turning to the machine adjacent to the one she was using, the one that had her
circus tent-sized shirt draped over it, it seemed like a good spot for Sally
to find it when she took a break from torturing herself. I could have just
stood the bottle on the seat and on the vast fabric, but looking at the
drenched shirt, hung up to dry and therefore wasting her superb excretions, I
wanted to savor at least some of it. Casually I took hold of the cloth that
lay there extruding her scent and lifted it. As I moved it to the side, my
face stayed cool and relaxed even though the silken feel of the moisture made
my heart beat even harder than it already was. Clutching it, my fists got
treated to a feel of the slick, shiny fabric, its touch soggy and lustrous in
my palms, poured from the most divine of all springs. Not being able to
suppress a reflexive sharp intake of air, I treated myself to a generous
portion of the ubiquitous smell in the room while I gently fondled the
material, heavy as well as smooth with stains of bodily exudation. My fingers
glided over the satiny surface of what once was an ordinary t-shirt, now a
jewel of glowing, warm essence. In fact, it did strike me as quite warm, still
containing most of her scorching body heat. She must have taken it off just
before I returned.

With the shirt rearranged and my digits thoroughly soaked with her fluids, I
placed the bottle on the machine and moved away from the whole scene. With my
back turned to Sally, hidden behind other exercise equipment and moving
towards the bike in the far corner, I raised my hands to my face - ostensibly
to scratch myself, but really to rub the remains of her perspiration under my
nose. Predictably all of this provoked my dormant cock to slowly wake again.
The sole reason I wasn't already sporting a protruding crowbar was that I had
used the time upstairs to not only refill our bottles, but also to empty my
loins with some alone time in the bathroom. I don't know why I didn't start
this training session with my urges taken care of, but it worked out for the
best anyway. Getting on the bike again I programmed the computer and slowly
started hitting the pedals. The sounds of Sally's breathing and grunting,
along with the machine's creaking noises, continued echoing through the room,
fueling my steadily accelerating cycling.

My sister incorporates all of this sheer amazement, something that never
ceases to affect me and my teenage libido. I pedaled harder, desperately
trying to shake off the persistently mounting testosterone in me, hoping that
if I covered enough miles I could get away from my ever-growing perpetual
arousal. I kept thinking how it's utterly impossible to put into words what
she has built herself up to be: the size of her body, the development of her
physique, the expansion of her muscles and the levels of strength she can
muster up while remaining this good-natured, soft and tender girl.

And by the end of this workout I will have once again experienced hands-on
just how soft and tender she can be.

Cycling on, I stubbornly pointed my eyes straight ahead, slowly falling into
an all-too familiar trance where I barely register anything in the gym,
similar to what Sally is like during her exercises. I went on for god knows
how long, only looking up when she walked across the room right in front of
me, heading back to the bench she was using earlier. Trying my best to focus
on the bike, I kept on going for mile after mile, ignoring the warm, buzzing
feeling in my chest that I get with every thought of what she might be doing
that particular moment and what she might look like when she's done pumping
her humungous body.

I noticed Sally coming up to my bike. I almost didn't, but her titanic frame
easily catches any attention even from the corner of an eye. A quick look on
the bike's digital display showed that I have been going for three quarters of
an hour now, time that just flew by. Breathing heavily, my face burning up and
clothes drenched in perspiration like Sally's, I sat up and reached for my
water. As I tilted my head to drink from the bottle I could feel individual
drops of sweat move along with gravity, running down my face and into my shirt
as I kept going at a comfortable cruising pace. I rapidly chugged down the
much-needed liquid, letting some of it escape the sides of my mouth and
trickle down my chin and neck. By the time I was finished Sally had arrived at
where I was. My feverish panting, face dripping with perspiration and legs in
constant movement came in handy to conceal my reaction when I realized that
she was still shirtless.

Choking at the sight of her torso clad only in her sports bra, I coughed up
some of my water. I put the bottle away and wiped my mouth with the lower bit
of my shirt, turning to her. Sally was leaning against a machine diagonally in
front of me, softly giggling at my mishap. She herself was still breathing
rather heavily, making her globular chest rise and expand with every other
second, as she had just finished another punishing exercise. I had to raise my
head to her twinkling eyes and dimpled cheeks, her lush lips parting to bare
her adorable smile hovering several feet above the ground. A stark contrast to
the determined grimace that dominated her features earlier. With this dazzling
laugh directed at me I couldn't help but form a big grin of my own, admitting
to my own embarrassment as I chuckled along with her kind laughter.

I tried my best to ignore my sister's towering form standing tantalizingly
close to me and propped myself back on the handlebar. Sally leaned back and
crossed her arms, those huge loafs of hefty, copious ham hanging from her
shoulders, letting them blow up to enormous proportions. She automatically did
it the bodybuilder way, with her fists placed directly under her biceps,
pushing the already immense balls up to prominently display its curved shape
with a fat vein running along the peak. My entire peripheral vision was filled
with her over-dimensional frame as her glistening skin shimmered in the light.
Having Sally standing this near was getting a bit distracting as I needed to
concentrate on the imaginary road in front of me. The route I had programmed
would go on for a few more miles, meaning I couldn't escape from this glorious
behemoth. I was worried she might ask the same question she had asked before.
Why I would spend such a beautiful afternoon in our basement, even though the
sun was shining, which would mean having to make something up, like that
there's isn't anywhere to go in this suburban area or something else, lying to
my dear beloved sister, something I knew I had to, but just didn't want to do.
She released her arms, turning her head towards me and leaned forward, looking
like she wanted to pose that question again. The tension in me built up as I
scanned my brain for a good reason why I would rather be here in this smelly
bunker with her than in the fresh air.

But she didn't ask. Instead, I watched as she positioned herself right next to
me, propping her body against the machine parallel to mine, coming within what
felt like only inches from me. Trapped on the bike I was almost painfully
close to her imposing body, having her slightly swaying breasts that gave her
bra its grandiose shape right in front of me. Her teats rose as she lifted her
hands to fold them behind her head, the pectoral planes shifting along with
the monumental limbs connected to them. As her arms moved up, the reflections
of numerous lamps danced over her shining arm, drawing highlights and bright
shapes on her beguilingly drenched skin. Ordinary neon tubes mounted to the
ceiling created a hypnotic spectacle, as shapes formed by her biceps, triceps
and deltoids made the light flow around and over each muscular mountain. Once
more, wafts of her flavor radiated through the air and at me, not being able
to help myself soaking up the intense scent as it invaded my gleeful nose
without meeting any resistance.

As she laid her palms on the back of her head, her bent arms produced masses
of delicious beef extending north and south in never before seen dimensions.
Her biceps inflated like a thick lead balloon whereas her triceps spread
downwards in an exaggeratedly large arc that was obviously the result of her
last unbelievable exercise. They bulged left and right of her face, inviting
Sally to turn her head and lay her succulent lips on one of those titanic
semicircles of power, placing a soft, sinful kiss on that sensual mammoth.
With her perfectly smooth skin generously coating itself in ethereal fluids,
she could follow the pulsing vein adorning the dome with her tongue and lap up
the heavenly flavor with a dose of her own sweat. After that she could switch
to the second behemoth and repeat the whole scene with the other lustrous,
enticingly scented ... .

Forcing myself to turn away I wondered why - with her standing so close to me
and all - it didn't occur to her that it might be irritating, even bothersome
for a brother to have his smelly sibling standing gleamingly naked right next
to him or how she didn't realize that I had nowhere to go. Maybe it was one of
those things that she occasionally does. Coming to me to show off her body,
boasting with her improvements, casually flexing, asking me to measure or just
feel the hardness of a body part she has worked intensively. I'm certainly not
complaining, but it does get deeply troubling for me to act nonchalant when
she flaunts her incredible everything for me. Often she asks me what I think,
expecting constructive criticism on her physique. If I were honest I'd tell
her that she couldn't get anymore perfect and beautiful than she already was,
but instead I just make up some old B.S. Like, something's not symmetrical; or
that something is to large or too small in proportion to something else next
to it; or, if I just can't think of anything, I just give her honest
compliments while trying not to seem too eager.

It's all about keeping up appearances. It just wouldn't be realistic if I
pretended to be unimpressed with her development, so when she displays herself
for my critique I do try to praise this majestic girl within appropriate
boundaries. I would be, for instance, squatting right in front of her massive
quadriceps, croaking out something like "That's impressive, Sally!" while
trying to appear neutral as she grunts a small "mmph" before flexing those
pillars of might to an even more ridiculous size. Over the years I have
learned to always have a couple of applicable phrases handy; anything, really,
just to have my mouth occupied and stop me from blurting out: "You're
magnificent! You are absolute perfection! I live to long after each of your
fantastic curves, so please, I beg you, let me make love to you and worship
your wonderful body!"

Beeping and the sudden lack of resistance from the pedals signaled the end of
my route, bringing me back into the room. I took a deep breath I had vitally
needed, not only because of the powerful pheromones that filled our gym but
also because I was genuinely exhausted from going on for a good three quarters
of an hour. Grabbing my bottle I downed half of it in a couple of seconds and
stopped pedaling. Leaning forward on the handlebar I felt my entire torso
heavily heaving as I tried to take in much needed oxygen. My shirt was soaked
with perspiration, making it cling to my back as if glued to it. It felt cold
against my sweltering, hot skin. After a while, I sat up, closed my eyes and
sucked in big chunks of air at a time, trying to keep my lungs from bursting
and my heart from exploding. Apparently, I looked like I was about to die,
because there was definitely a portion of concern beneath Sally's amused voice
when she spoke.

"You okay?"

I opened my eyes and turned to her, smiling down at my sitting form, red like
a tomato drenched in sweat.

"Yeah," I replied, my voice laboring quite hard, as I tried to relax and stop
panting. "I'm fucking exhausted."

She giggled. "I can see that," she said, her smile widening.

I got off the bike and walked around the empty gym area, loosening up some of
my stiff limbs. When I turned back around, I saw that Sally had her butt
against the bike seat, again looking at me like there was something on her
mind. I returned her gaze and waited for her to say what she wanted to say.

"Um... Jake?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"I ... " she began, but refrained. Standing up she slowly started strolling
towards where I was standing. I found myself craning my neck to see her face,
streaked with a wary expression. Placing herself in front of me, she started
again: "It may be kinda weird, us being brother and sister and all, but..."

Weird? Now I was curious.

Continuing, she said, "Um, but I could use your help with something and wanted
to ask you a big favor."

Jake, I want you to lick the sweat off my body.

No, she didn't say that, unfortunately.

"Today's my chest day and I wanted to do pushups. You know, getting a good
pump for the ole' pecs and triceps," she said tentatively, smiling cautiously
while gesturing toward her bosom and arm with one thumb. "But I need a little
extra weight to have some proper resistance."

I didn't know where she was going with this, but I was definitely liking it.

"Last time I tried putting a weight on my back." Sally went on, walking over
to the barbell loaded with even more and bigger disks than what I had
witnessed her pressing earlier. Pointing to a rather large one of those plates
she explained "It's was going alright with a small one, but the bigger ones
just kept slipping off."

"Ah, I see what you mean," I said. "You want me to sit next to you, so I can
hold the weight in place so it doesn't slide off, right?"

"Not quite."

Huh? This was getting interesting.

"What I wanted to ask you ... and I would totally understand if this would be
too strange for you ... er ... and you can totally say no if you like, us
being siblings and all, and I know this I kinda unusual and -"

"Spit it out, Sal!" I interrupted, laughing with light-heartedness, but deeply
charged with curiosity.

"I wanted to ask you," she finally said, "if you would sit on my back while I
do pushups."

I felt my eyebrows climb higher and higher as my brain tried to process what
heavenly suggestions these words could comprise. Internally, I reveled in the
warm rush of ecstasy that immersed my entire body, manifesting itself in a
throbbing dick, thickening by no small amount. This was an absolute
dream-come-true, something I mean quite literally, as this was one of my
fantasies about magnificent Sally. Using me for strength feats was definitely
in the Top 10 of impossible scenarios that I was sure I would be denied
forever. Therefore, obviously, my face showed an expression of huge surprise
that, understandably, could be interpreted as something other than pleasant. I
guess "shock" would accurately describe my outward appearance. My first
reaction probably didn't help either.

"You... what?"

We stood there for a minute - Sally with a look of cautious hope and a
definite "fingers crossed" vibe in her eyes, and me with one of completely
bewilderment. Neither of us was moving a muscle, making the room void of any
visible or audible signs of human activity. The usual background music of
clanking machines accompanied by sounds of exertion was on pause, as the
hidden excitement in me built up conversely to her enthusiastic smile that was
slowly waning with every passing second. A couple of more moments passed and
she let her massively wide shoulders hang as her face changed to a
disappointed yet sympathetic and understanding smile.

Turning away, to whatever exercise she had planned next she said "Yeah, no,
it's alright." Waving her hand OK, she added: "I know, it would be too kinky
for siblings to do."

"No!" I interjected, maybe a bit too strongly. I knew I couldn't let this
opportunity pass, so I gathered myself and took a step towards her. "I mean,
let's do it!"

Her face lit up, flashing me that gorgeous smile that anybody in the world
would kill to see directed at them. I felt my knees wobble slightly. "Really?
You're okay with this? Because it's totally cool if you don't want to."

"Come on! It'll be fun for me too," I said, taking another sip from my bottle.
Pointing my finger up and down her upper body I added: "I mean, I guess.
Assuming you're gonna put your shirt back on."

Why I said that, I don't know. Immediately Sally nodded and looked around for
her shirt, still draped over that machine. As I watched her tall figure stride
away from me I just wanted to kick myself in the face for prompting her to
cover up her unreal beauty. Surely, she was going to anyway, but if I had kept
my mouth shut there would have been that miniscule chance where she might have
let me ride on her naked skin in the midst of a sea of mouthwatering
perspiration. She took her shirt and held it in front of her, shaking it to
unravel one huge piece of clothing fit only for a goddess like herself. Seeing
her mighty biceps bulge and jump with every slight motion was making me feel a
little giddy, which is probably why, without thinking, I blurted:

"But you don't have to."

Sally turned back to me, with a look of "Hm?," obviously surprised that her
brother would suggest that.

"I mean," I added, swallowing. Trying to find words that wouldn't make me
sound like a pervert in only a couple of seconds is hard. "If you don't want
to, you could leave it off. You must get insanely hot in this and also, I'm
wearing sweatpants. And, besides, it's not like you're not decent."

She looked down at her torso and slightly nodded her head, acknowledging that,
indeed, she wasn't naked and, given the temperature in the room, she was
burning up. I could see the shirt being slowly lowered when Sally caught a
glimpse of her shiny, shiny arms coated in a thick layer of her transpiration.
Curiously, she placed one hand on her biceps, letting her palm glide over the
iron ball, past her protruding triceps up to her heavily muscled shoulders.
God, watching her fondle herself, caressing her humungous mass, I wished we
would get to the pushups soon, because already I was getting more and more
engorged. Then she held up her hand to her face and examined her slick fingers
and how much of her fluids they picked up with one short swipe.

"Hm, best not," she said as she dried her hands on her trousers, leaving a
damp imprint. "I'm sweaty all over. Seriously, I'm totally drenched, I
probably stink like hell and my skin's awfully sticky. Trust me, you wanna
avoid direct contact with me right now," she laughed.

I mumbled in agreement.

Sally pulled the shirt over her head but stopped when she spread it over her
shoulders. Walking two or three steps towards me she said in a lower voice:
"Also, this bra is kinda snug." Looking around the room as if she wanted to
exclude somebody even though we were the only people in the house she slightly
bent over and added, even more hushed: "It would be awkward if someone walked
in on us and found me involving you with me exposed like this. Right?" She
proceeded to straighten the fabric over her body, removing her glorious
physique from my vision.

Deciding against explaining to her that I want nothing more than to let my
tongue run over her stinky and sticky skin I quietly watch her get dressed.
The whole motion, covering up this embodiment of powerful beauty looked wrong
to me; it was like watching porn in reverse.

"Okay!" she happily exclaimed and clapped her hands together, making her
sleeves jump along with her quickly expanding biceps. "Let's get this show on
the road!"


- - -

End of Chapter 6.

Thanks again to michael-leonard for editing the story. Spelling and grammar
wouldn't be this nice without him.

I know this part has much less action in it than most of you would like to
see, but believe me: I'm getting there. So, if there's anything you like to
see in future chapters, to voice an opinion or to berate me for working so
slowly write to:

nelek (at) gmx.at