Diana
By Worshipper
Part 2


In the weeks after Bob's party I found my humiliation at Diana's 
treatment of me subsiding. She didn't mention what had happened, but 
there was a subtle change in our sex life; now it was generally she who 
initiated love-making, and she did it by cuddling on top of me and 
lightly flexing her biceps and letting me kiss them. One thing would 
lead to another and we often climaxed together--easy enough to achieve 
since all I had to do to produce instant release was to stroke her upper 
arms and press her hard, splendidly arching peaks as she held me 
tightly. 

Still, despite the thrill of Diana's arms, I was now motivated to hit 
the gym as never before. I began to work my own arms more intensely than 
before, but I trained my legs especially hard; they grew surprisingly 
fast, and over the course of a few months I increased my squats by over 
50%. 

In September, about three months after Diana's muscles had so thoroughly 
dominated me at Bob's party, I thought I might try to challenge her 
again, this time on my terms. We had a very romantic evening; I had seen 
to it that she had a bit more wine than usual and she clearly was 
affected by it. She was very sleepy and asked me to help undress her. As 
I pulled her dress over her head and then stroked her arms before 
helping her off with her bra, I was struck anew by their fullness and 
solidity. Standing behind her, I traced her unflexed right bicep with my 
fingers. She giggled and did a quick flex. The pop of her peaked muscle 
was shocking and thrilling. 

She laughed as she tumbled into the bed. "I think they're still growing, 
don't you James?" 

She reached up and pulled me down on top of her. This was just as I had 
hoped. After a few delightful minutes of increasingly passionate kisses, 
I maneuvered my legs around her left leg and gave a gentle squeeze. 

"Hmm," she sighed with pleasure, "squeeze me again." 

That was all the cue I needed. Slowly increasing the pressure, I brought 
nearly the full strength of my two legs to bear on her leg. 

"Oh James, that's so nice. Can you do it harder?" 

This was disconcerting and, to tell the truth, it made me angry: she 
should be in pain by now! I didn't *want* to hurt her, but I did want 
her to acknowledge the power of my legs. With a strained grunt I 
squeezed with all my might and waited for her to submit. 

But something strange happened. She moved her other leg so that now her 
two legs encircled my left leg. I realized that she was starting to 
squeeze back! I redoubled my efforts and found new strength, but... 
oh... what was that? The pressure building up around *my* leg was 
growing, growing, growing to the point that it was becoming intolerable! 

Somehow I could stand it. But it seemed as though despite my months of 
effort, I had built my legs up only to be even with Diana's in strength. 

As though she could read my thoughts, Diana said, "James, I've noticed 
recently that your quads have really grown! You must be working out like 
crazy! I love your strong legs." 

"Geez Diana, I don't know. I thought they'd be way stronger than yours 
by now, but we seem to be pretty evenly matched." 

"Do you think so James?" 

Something about her voice made me a bit uneasy. 

The next moment brought the most astonishing pain imaginable. Her legs 
tightened immeasurably. "Vise-like" scarcely begins to describe the 
feeling. I must have screamed--the pain was too intense, too shocking to 
bear--but I know I blacked out. 

I awoke to find Diana gently stroking my face and looking very 
concerned. 

"Oh James, James, I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?" 

I groaned and examined my leg. "I guess so. My god, what did you do to 
me?" 

"I just squeezed you harder," she replied, "I wanted you to know that I 
wasn't squeezing full strength." 

"How can you be so strong?" 

"Haven't you noticed? I've been working on my legs too." 

Dear reader, please don't get the idea that I had been ignoring my 
wife's legs for the previous three months. On the contrary: throughout 
the summer I was dazzled by the beautiful, athletic shapes she displayed 
at every opportunity. But Diana's physique is, er, unusual. Just as her 
unflexed arms are gracefully slim, just a bit fuller and more defined 
that most athletic women, her legs seem no more overtly muscular than a 
sprinter's--certainly nothing resembling, say, a bodybuilder like Maria 
Calo. But as I've indicated in my previous story, when pumped and 
flexed, the peaks of Diana's biceps leap from the surrounding arm  and 
form unbelievably hard balls of muscle. Now I was to learn that the 
effect of a pump was not limited to her arms. 

"C'mere babe," she said, edging off the bed. 

"What do you want me to do, Diana?" 

"Stand on the bed, over here, near the edge, turned the other way." 

I did as she asked. She bent towards me, put her head between my legs 
and stood up. (Luckily we have high ceilings!) Then she began to do deep 
squats. I lost count in the high 50s. I couldn't believe the strength of 
my wife as she powered one solid repetition after another. 

Eventually she stopped and put me back on the bed. 

"Now look" she said getting in next to me. 

I looked down at her legs and could hardly believe what I saw. Diana's 
beautifully proportioned legs--the envy of all her friends--had become 
transformed. Deep striations had appeared all over and the girth of her 
quads had grown by at least half. I was looking at the legs of a 
professional body builder! 

I gulped. "May I... feel them?" 

"Good grief James, you're my husband, of course you can feel them, and I 
hope you will. Pumping them like that makes me horny." 

I slid down towards the bottom of the bed to get closer. The bands of 
muscle were dazzling in their intricate, ropy patterns. I began gingerly 
to stroke them, fearful of their obvious power. 

"James, please, stroke more... kiss me..." 

Against my lips Diana's skin was as soft as ever, but the iron 
underneath did not yield. As I kissed her, her excitement grew and she 
moved one leg so that I was now surrounded by her magnificent thighs. I 
kissed gently, them more passionately, rubbing my mouth and cheeks over 
the muscled surface. Then Diana sat up slightly and grabbed me gently by 
the hair, guiding me to the warm moistness between her legs. As I sought 
her eagerly with my tongue I felt her legs rise up onto my shoulders and 
could sense the locking of her ankles behind my back. The thought of the 
awesome power she could exert on my helpless head was almost too much: 
my excitement translated into more fervent action of my tongue. As 
Diana's climax built her legs began to squeeze tighter. My hands were on 
her quads, madly trying to wrench them apart--with, of course, no 
success. As the pressure on my head intensified so did my own 
excitement. I came just when Diana did and we rode wave after wave of 
pleasure together, with me locked between her magnificent thighs. Then, 
all went dark. 

Again I awoke to Diana's concerned cries. When she saw I was awake, she 
reached down and pulled me up to the head of the bed and turned me onto 
my back. 

"Poor baby," she said. "I hope you don't mind, James, but I love being 
so strong." 

With that, she moved one thigh over me and almost instantly feel asleep.