Samantha Grows Muscles Part Two - Another Surprise of David 
by Scheherazade the Amazon
In which Samantha's husband David, the former college athlete decides to build himself back up and equal or surpass his wife's new strength. He is dreaming!

Samantha

When my husband came home early from work and saw me working out, I was
thrilled and surprised to have him see me, but I was especially surprised to
see that I had grown stronger than he is. I guess it makes sense; he doesn't
work out any more, and that co-worker of his and the donuts, well that can't
be too god for his overall health and strength. In fact, I was surprised to
see how out of shape he was.

David and I used to work out together, but ever since he started his own
company, he has been too obsessed with growing the business to worry about
growing his muscles. Meanwhile, I have been plugging away five or six times a
week for two and a half years, almost six if you count the years we worked out
together, sometimes at the gym and sometimes in our basement.

It's weird to me. I used to be proud of the fact that he was the strongest guy
on the football team, or one of them, and when we worked out together, I just
deferred to him, and I always lifted a few plates less than him on the
machines and fifty to a hundred less on the major lifts. I never tried to get
stronger, just stay in shape.

Then, when he stopped lifting with me, when he got too busy, I had no one to
tell me what to do, and, in effect, no one to hold me back. I pushed myself to
increase my weight every few weeks; I would often attempt a new max just to
see where I was. I had never done that before. I knew I had gotten strong, but
I hadn't really thought about it in terms of David's lifts.

That is why I was absolutely floored when he went to the bench and took OFF
the weights I had been lifting so that he could warm up with, like, 130 pounds
less. Then he maxed out at only 205, forty pounds less than I had done for ten
repetitions. Not only that, he failed on the sixth rep.

It was weird too. I had always wanted a strong husband, but his relative
weakness compared to me was oddly empowering to me. It was like a shot of
adrenaline to see him fail at weights I could crush, and it was so fucking
cool to crush him in the wrestling matches we had. It was also cool to have,
what would you call it? Make-up sex? Emasculation sex? Either way, it was
good.

I know, now that I embarrassed him the other day, he is going to get back into
training and try to turn things around, and I am relatively certain he is
going to make some big gains in the first month and a half he is lifting. And
there is a part of me that is glad he is doing that. However, there is another
part of me, the competitive part, which says "Not on your fucking life!"

So, David, from now on, if you are lifting heavy, I am not going to lift less
just because I am a woman. In fact, there is a part of me that wonders how
strong I could have been if I had been on my own schedule instead of his all
those years. Anyway, I am happy he is going to get stronger, but I am going to
do my level best to remain stronger than him and even increase the strength
gap between us. If he lifts eight reps, I will lift ten. If he does two sets,
I'll do three.

I know he was strong in college, but, as I remember his old lifts, I think
most of my current lifts are ahead of where he was back then, and I know I can
keep increasing them. I just know it, and I am willing to bust my ass to do
it.

David

Yesterday and last night were surprising and amazing. I never knew how much I
would be turned on by a muscular woman, but seeing my wife lift as much weight
as I did in college (and I was the strongest dude of the football team) gave
me a raging erection. Watching her flex for me made my heart race and the
blood rush to my face. Her legs were incredible, huge and striated with
muscle. Then watching her butt move while she walked around was an answer to
my dreams.

Most of all, and this is the surprising part, I was turned on by the overall
musculature of her upper body. When she flexed her biceps, they popped out of
her arms like nothing I have ever seen. Relaxed, they were impressive but
unremarkable, and then she would flex, and it was like something alive
exploded under her skin. And there was that large vein pumping blood to it. I
think she could have given me multiple orgasms without even touching me just
by flexing.

As good as the sex was, and as much as I enjoyed seeing my wife's gorgeous
muscles, I was embarrassed to have lost so much strength and to be weaker than
my wife is, and she proved it in every possible way. She lifted more than I
did; she outwrestled my in every possible way, and she actually lifted me like
a baby. Frankly, I think she is even stronger than her impressive lifts
suggest, and all of this at 5'6" and 165 or so.

Anyway, I am going to make a change. I will rise earlier every morning, so
that I can do a workout before going to work, and on days I can't, I will go
to the gym for a prolonged lunch break or after work. I will eschew the
donuts, as good as they are, and have protein shakes and protein bars. Maybe I
will do double workouts once on each weekend. I have to get my body back in
shape. I may not be able to surpass her strength in the first month or two,
but give me six months. I will be back at my college strength or beyond. I'll
show her who's boss.

Samantha

It has been about three weeks since I totally emasculated my husband. David
has begun his new workout regime, and he is keeping a log of everything he
does right next to the landline on his desk in his office at home, which makes
it very easy for me to check up on his progress. I have decided to increase my
workouts, and since I am already in good shape, I have a bit of an advantage.
Six days a week, I am doing double sessions, and one day a week I rest by
doing only one. I am using plenty of supplements and a high-grade brand of
creatine to help me recover faster and last longer in my workouts. I wasn't
sure it was going to help, as I had never used it before, but I noticed an
improvement in the second week.

David spent two or three weeks just building up endurance; he used mostly the
machine and pulley exercises and did multiple circuits. He was strong enough
that he was able to do multiple sets of more than half the plates on those
machines, but I had long since graduated from those, and my split workouts
allowed me to do multiple exercises for each muscle group, each of which
focused on a different part of the muscle. For instance, I did five different
exercises for the biceps, some of which focused on bulking up and some of
which focused on the peak or the Biceps Brachia and some on the brachialis
which supports the Bracchia. Also, there is the long biceps and the short
biceps, the two main muscles in the biceps. Great bodybuilders work all of
them, and I intended to do the same.

On arm days I would begin with preacher curls with the EZ bar on a preacher
bench. I would do a set, add weight and do another, add weight and do another,
and then repeat the whole thing in descending order. Occasionally I only
ascended but performed supersets by dropping some of the weight quickly and
then doing a second set at lower weight while still fatigued. Then I would do
seated concentration curls. I would have two dumbbells, one of them five
pounds lighter, and I would do three sets of supersets with them. Then I would
perform hammer curls. Then I would perform standing curls with a preacher bar
and my back against the wall. Then my favorite, the biceps curls on the cable
crossover machine, where I got to stand in front of a mirror and pull the
handles toward me and watch my biceps explode. These being the final exercises
of the day for the biceps, they usually would be as huge as ever, giving me an
amazing sense of accomplishment.

I would split the workouts arms and shoulders in the morning and legs in the
afternoon of days 1, 3, and 5. Chest and back on the opposite ends of days 2,
4, and 6. I did some cardio and core every day. My day off was a day for extra
cardio, dead lifts (only once a week for them) and totally blasting my abs. Of
course, there are exercises that work both chest and triceps, such as triceps
dips, so on chest day I would widen the grip and perform them in such a way as
to emphasize the pecs, and on arm days, I would narrow the grip to exercise
the triceps more. Likewise for exercises that work both the back and the
biceps.

After merely two weeks, I began to notice a difference. The muscles recovered
faster than before, and my body was hungry for the afternoon workout by the
time it came. I felt as if I was getting bigger and definitely stronger, but I
held off measuring myself until later. Meanwhile, I did notice my husband had
lost a few pounds of fat and was getting some of his definition back. His
pants hung differently, and his clothes all fit better. It was also noticeable
when we were making love too, but I was quite sure that my progress was at
least as much as his and probably more. Every session I did left me feeling
engorged with blood, tired but powerful at the same time, and excited about
the next workout.

Phil

My friend David, actually my boss, is on a health kick recently. Not only is
he refusing to eat any of the donuts I bring in every day, he is eating health
shakes and doing exercises during his free time. Gotta hand it to him. It's
more than I could do. He takes off his coat, shirt, and tie and does a bunch
of core exercises, like sit-ups, planks etc., and he does a few sets of
push-ups. He does these every day. When he started, he told me he wanted to do
100 push-ups a day for a few weeks and then increase the total. During that
first week, it took him four sets to get to 100; in fact, by Friday he was so
tired it took him five. However, last week he managed it in three. This week,
he is still doing it in three, but his first set is up to forty-five. My guess
is that soon he will be able to do two sets of fifty.

I don't know what motivated this, but he says he is embarrassed about how
out-of-shape he is, especially since he was such an athlete in college and for
the first few years afterwards. Who am I to judge? At least I get more of the
donuts now.

Samantha

I was always a bit thicker than the girls of my height were. My arms, when we
started working out together six years ago, measured 11 inches when flexed and
a little over 10 inches unflexed. At that size, it didn't really matter
whether I had recently worked out or not; there was really no such thing as a
"pump" because the muscles were too little for the pump to make a difference.
As I worked out with David, they grew a bit, maybe to 12 inches or 12.5. They
really began to take off when I read about exercises to make the muscles grow.
I think they were almost fifteen inches five weeks ago, when David decided to
resume exercising, and I decided it was going to be a competition. I don't
know why I am so competitive, but for some reason it is exciting. I know what
he is doing, and I can see some of the effects, but I can't tell his growth in
size, if any. I can with me, and I had been waiting until a significant amount
of time had passed. Today was arm day, so I did some measurements.

I waited until after I had finished my last triceps exercise, and then did an
extra set of the cable curls. I knew I had really worked them, because I added
a few pounds to every exercise, and on my last set of cable curls, I reached
failure on the ninth of ten reps. I pulled hard and then held the curl before
letting the plates down lightly to the floor and shaking out my arms. Then I
ran into the bathroom to measure in private. I had a small measuring tape in a
small bag I had attached to my water bottle. Fully aware that the measurement
I would get today would likely be at least an inch bigger than it would read
cold tomorrow morning, I took the tape out and wrapped it around my upper arm
extended straight. The tape read 15 inches. Then I flexed and flexed hard. The
tape moved and settled on 16.5 inches. "Holy MFG!" I said to myself. I
measured the left to see if I had erred, and I got the same result. On my 5'6"
frame, those measurements looked huge. I measured my forearms, and they came
to fifteen inches. I was really turning into a muscular freak, but I didn't
care. I loved it, and I wanted to keep growing. These double sessions and the
creatine were certainly having their effect.

That afternoon, I worked the legs hard. I pushed myself harder than I had ever
done before. I wanted to have the same type of results I had seen with my arms
in the morning. I ended with squats. Six weeks before, I had done 505 pounds,
but I had done it for four reps without having done any other leg work that
day. Today, I had done a full leg workout and had saved the squats for the
end. Usually, I would have done them first, but I wanted to kill these legs on
the squats, and I didn't want to think about later exercises. I warmed up with
three plates on each end of the bar, and then I started in earnest. I lifted
the bar with four large plates and a twenty-five at each end, and I did ten
reps. Then I removed the twenty-five and added another set of forty-fives; I
did that for eight reps. Then I added a set of twenty-fives and a ten to each
end of the bar. This was uncharted territory for me, five hundred and
fifty-five pounds of iron. I settled under it, lifted it from the rack and
took baby steps backwards. I had a safety bar set up, but I was scared of
failure and started down slowly. I reached the bottom and pressed upwards. I
was surprised that it wasn't harder than it seemed. I repeated the lift and
kept repeating it until I had done eight. At that point, I had slowed down. I
hesitated." I can do two more," I thought to myself. The last two were hard,
but I blasted through them, racked the bar, and looked vainly for someone to
celebrate with.

My thighs were totally engorged in blood and huge. When I had started training
six years before, they had been strong but comparatively skinny at 19 inches.
Three weeks before, they had been about 25 and a half inches. Now I got the
tape out and measured around the thickest section of my thigh. It stretched
the tape at 28.5 inches, but what was especially pleasing was that the muscles
were defined and strong from where they connected to my torso all the way down
to my knee. Every muscle stood out and seemed large. Even I was attracted to
my legs. I had a warm feeling between my legs. I shook the thighs and watched
the muscles jiggle; then I flexed. This was fun. I did it again and almost
brought myself to orgasm. I couldn't wait to see David's reaction. That would
happen soon enough.

David

I am really proud of myself. I have been working out religiously, and I feel a
lot better about myself. My pants, which had begun to slide below my somewhat
protruding stomach and had begun to feel uncomfortable, now fit much better.
My waist, which I neglected to measure as I started, had returned to that
nebulous spot between 34 and 36. Plus, my hips feel more like they did before.
Moreover, and perhaps more to the point, I have lost eighteen pounds. I am
afraid that my work has resulted more in weight loss than strength gains, but
I am heading in the right direction. My max in the bench, which once was
around 300 pounds when I was in college, had fallen to around 205 five weeks
ago. I can probably hit around 225 for a few reps now. It will take a while to
get my way back to 300 pounds or more.

I have been doing push-ups every day at work; I recently worked my way up to
doing 200 per day, and I complete them in only four sets. I do two sets of
sixty push-ups, one of forty-five and one of thirty-five. I think if I
challenge Samantha to a push-up contest, I might surprise her and win. She is
probably expecting to show off her increased strength. I imagine, based on
what she did five weeks ago, she would thrash me in a strength contest. That
will have to wait until I have started striving for max effort in the major
strength lifts.

Samantha

I have continued working hard, and can't wait to show off for my husband.
Today is the day, and I am in the basement, waiting for David to come
downstairs. We are each going to unveil our new selves and propose a physical
challenge for the other one. I have a surprise in that area. He is probably
expecting me to challenge him in squats, and that would be unfair. His best
ever was only around 300 pounds, which always seemed strange to me because he
could bench that much. I can do nearly twice that much, so it wouldn't be
fair. I was thinking of pull-ups with added weight. That will be an
interesting challenge, and I have been busting my back like crazy for the last
month.

"Honey," I heard David call from the top of the basement stairs. "Let me
change into my workout gear, and I'll be right down." I decided to start my
warm-up. I did multiple reps of a weight that was easy for each major muscle
group, just to get my pump going. And just as I finished, David appeared. He
came down the stairs and stopped, staring at me. "Sjit!, he said. "I'm in
trouble. You look fuckin' amazing." I blushed, despite having wanted that
response, and then flexed my right bicep muscle. The effect on him was
immediate; he he pitched a tent in the crotch of his shorts and reached down
to adjust it. I just smiled. "Hey'" he said. "I have a new body to show to you
too, and he took off his sweat shirt and flexed for me.

"Wow, honey! That is an impressive change. I can sort of see your abs." I had
meant it as a compliment, but it came out all wrong. His erection suffered a
setback, which was fine with me for now. "That did not come out right. You
look great. How much weight have you lost? Fifteen, twenty pounds?"

"Almost twenty," he said. "And you should see me do core exercises. I am
really proud of myself. So what do we do now?"

"I thought we would take turns with each other's challenges and then do some
showing off, and see where that leads," I said, with a smile and a wink.

"I like where your thoughts are tending." He said with a smile and a returned
wink. "OK, as for the challenge, I'll propose a challenge first. I was
thinking push-ups, five minutes to do as many as you can. I guess, since it is
my challenge, I'll go first." With that he plopped down to the floor. I set my
phone to five minutes and said, go.

He started, and his push-ups were good ones, deep and steady with his chest
approaching the floor. I was glad because I really didn't want to lose to
someone whose exercises were cheap, buit I did not want to call him on lousy
push-ups either. He clicked off 65 in the first minute and fifteen seconds
before having to take a break, then he began again. There was no requirement
that you do them straight through, and he rested totally on the floor before
starting again. He was slowing down at the two and a half minute mark, having
reached 100 push-ups. At that point, he needed another break. I was pretty
sure I could do 100 without stopping, but I wasn't sure. Push-ups weren't what
I had been planning on. He started again, but at the 3:30 mark he had reached
140 push-ups, and he was really slowing down. He only did fifteen more before
the 4:10 mark, at which point he took a break. When the clock reached the
five-minute mark, he had done 183 push-ups.

"Great job, honey! I hope I can match that. I haven't really been doing
push-ups, but I have been doing enough for the arms and the chest, that I
think I'll be OK." I had to admit, he had been very impressive, especially for
someone who was really out of shape six weeks before, but I was certain I
could do more than he had done.

I got down on the floor and he set his phone to five minutes and said begin. I
began at a fast rate and reached sixty before the clock read one minute. I
kept going without slowing down much and hit eighty-five at the 1:30 mark.
Before the clock read 1:48 I reached the 100 push-up mark and did not stop. I
finally rested at 130 push-ups, which I reached at the 2:20 second mark. I
gave myself a fifteen-second break and began again, this time going even
faster. I could hear David muttering, "You've got to be kidding!" under his
breath. I blew by his 183 push-up mark as the clock read 3:20 and kept going.
By this time, my arms were aching, but it was that good ache that reminded me
I was working hard. It didn't really slow me down. When the 4:00 mark arrived,
I had completed 230, but I had a surprise left for my husband. I started doing
one-armed push-ups ten at a time on each side. I complete forty more, for a
final total of 270 push-ups. I got up off the floor and stretched my arms and
my chest. Then I flexed my triceps. They were swollen with blood, but my pecs
had exploded. I walked over to my husband, smiled and performed a pec dance
for him. I got the reaction I wanted as he smiled. In addition, he was unable
to hide the telltale bulge in his shorts.

"OK'" I said. "It's on to mine. I want to do a pull-up contest, but I have in
mind adding weight."

"Jeez!" He said. "Adding weight? Well, OK! I'll try it."

"It was my turn to go first, so I hung twenty-five pounds from my belt and
began. I was able to perform fifteen repetitions with that much weight. I
thought I could do more, but I figured that would be enough.

David put the twenty-five pounds on his waist and began. He got started OK,
but he faltered very quickly. He was unable to perform his fourth one. "It's a
little unfair, he said. I weigh slightly more that 235, and what do you weigh?
165?

"Actually, I have put on a little weight. I'm up to 180, but you have a fair
argument. What if I add 70 pounds, two thirty-five pound plates, and see what
I can do? You can do your pull-ups with only body-weight? There's one catch.
You have to go first."

He thought about it for a second and said, "I guess that's fair." It wasn't
fair, because I would actually be lifting more weight than he would be, but I
wasn't complaining. He went first and clicked off nine good pull-ups and a few
weak ones that I counted as good, for a total of twelve. I loaded up with
seventy pounds and regretted it as I walked up to the pull-up bar. It was
awkward just walking. I pulled myself up once and thought, "I think I can do
this." I kept going. I reached six and realized this was going to be
difficult, but I got a second wind at nine. Ten was slow; eleven slower. I
paused for a moment at the bottom, and David said, "Giving up?" I smiled and
winked and began again, I performed one strong pull-up and another slowly and
agonizingly. Then I winked and did four more steadily and without hesitation
before stopping. "Oh honey, I think that was five more than you did."

"Oh, shut up!" He said, with a smile on his face. "I guess I have a ways to go
yet."

I had another surprise for him.

David

I had come into this competition expecting, or at least hoping, to have closed
the gap between my wife's superior strength and mine. She not only toyed with
me in the push-up contest, completing 130 or so push-ups before she took a
rest and then finishing with forty-one armed push-ups, she demolished my in
her pull-up contest.

The final surprise came when she asked me to jump on her back and see if she
could do a few pull-ups. OK, I have lost some weight, but I am still well over
200, close to 235 pounds. I figured there was no way. It looked like I was
right, when after she grabbed the bar, she hung there struggling for a moment.

"OK," I said. "Nice try. You got me on this exercise anyway." Then she said
through her gritted teeth, "Don't you dare get off my back!" And slowly I felt
myself rising higher and higher until our heads were level with the bar.
Slowly she let me down and did two more of these pull-ups before she let go of
the bar. As I let go, I looked at her lats and the other muscle groups just
under the arm in the back. They were exploding, and when she did a lat spread
for me, my pants exploded too.

"Can I jump on you again from the front?" I asked. I did not wait for an
answer. I may not have won the contest or proven much in the way of strength,
but after I let her dominate me some more, I felt like I had won.