Muscle story II
by P-Towne
Big guy, bigger girlfriend...the saga continues


	We were poolside at a friend's house enjoying the sunny 
afternoon.  Bertrand, the owner, had worked with me a few years 
back, and we still kept in touch.  He was doing very well 
financially, and his property was gorgeous.  I could have baked in 
that lounge chair all day, but our visit had to be cut short.  Me 
and my girlfriend Karen had tickets to Riverdance that night, and 
all the lounge chairs in the world could not have kept me away.  I 
just laid there in my bathing suit and smiled contentedly.  Bert 
was sitting across from me in a lawn chair, looking ridiculous in 
his Hawaiian shirt and with pink zinc on his nose.  
	"What's keeping them in there?  I'm sobering up by the 
second," he said.  He cupped his hands around his mouth and 
shouted to the sky, "Must_ have_ more_ beer!"  Then he looked over 
at me.  "They seem to be getting along well, don't you think?"
	"Looks like it."
	"You know, now she's actually talking about getting a 
personal trainer.  I think your woman is corrupting her."  He 
laughed.  "Man, I can't imagine that..."
	"What?"
	"Nothing."
	"You mean having a wife with big muscles?"
	He looked straight at me.  "Don't get me wrong -- I don't 
see anything wrong with you guys.  But for me it would just be too 
weird, you know?"
	The ladies approached as we spoke.  
	"Too weird?" asked Karen.
	They were quite a pair walking up to us -- his wife Angel 
was a tad short to begin with, but next to Karen she looked like a 
midget.  His wife was slim, pale, and pretty.  Unfortunately, 
wearing a conservative black one-piece with one of those sheer 
skirts wrapped around her, she looked incredibly dull next to my 
radiant girlfriend.  Karen wore a skimpy black bikini with a gaudy 
red flame design on it which left acres of her smooth copper skin 
glistening in the sun.  Her long hair hung loose over her mighty 
shoulders and down her back.   She was so unbelievably 
proportioned, she looked like a caricature.  Her oversized neck 
merged into traps that swooped gracefully out and down to her 
huge, round shoulders that could hardly fit through doors.  
Indescribable thickness inhabited her chest and back.  Her pecs 
pushed out further in front than most women's breasts.  Arms like 
Hercules, but with long, beautiful hands at the ends.  A waist as 
big as mine, but tiny in comparison to her broad chest above and 
round hips below.  Monstrous thighs came out of nowhere, casting 
shadows over her knees and halfway down her shins.  Her lower legs 
had a long and beautiful curve to them, coming up from her perfect 
feet and suddenly bulging sharply outwards at her calves.  To me 
she looked like an Amazonian warrior from a fantasy painting, only 
with about ten times the muscle that any artist would feel 
comfortable putting on a female. 
	She was staring hard at Bert.  Then she walked over to my 
chair.  Putting one arm around my back and the other under my 
knees, she picked me up out of the chair so that she could slide 
in under me.  Once settled, she put her big hands around my waist 
and repositioned me so that I was sitting comfortably in her lap.  
I was pretty much in the same position as I'd been in the chair, 
only now my seat was her huge muscular thighs and my backing was 
her rippling abdomen.  
	"So what's weird about it, Bertrand?" she asked sinuously.
	His wife and I burst out laughing, but Bert waited a few 
seconds before joining in.  I was surprised to see that he had 
actually looked scared for a second.  Karen was smiling now, but 
she didn't move me out of her hold.  Instead we conversed a little 
more sitting like that, his wife again and again expressing her 
respect and admiration for Karen's muscles.  Bert was strangely 
reserved for the rest of our visit.  
	When it was time to go, we gave our good-bye's and call-me-
next-week's.  Bert didn't say much, and it seemed like he was 
trying to ignore my girlfriend for some reason.  I didn't think 
much of it until she brought it up as we were driving home.  
	"Did you notice the way he was acting?" she asked out of the 
blue.  She looked terribly cramped in the passenger side as usual, 
and she completely blocked my view out her window.  Our upper arms 
were touching because her shoulders were wide enough to take up 
more than half the width of the car. 
	"Yeah, he was kind of quiet towards the end," I answered.
	"Did you notice that other thing?" she asked in a weird 
tone.  
	"Huh?"
	"You know, when I lifted you up?"
	"What about it?"
	"You didn't see?"
	"No, what?:"
	"He had a big woody."
	"No way."
	"I swear.  When I sat down with you, I noticed it.  And I 
don't think he'd had it before."
	"Did Angel notice?"
	"No, I don't think so.  She would probably have said 
something if she had -- that woman always says whatever she's 
thinking."
	"Wait a minute," I said, eyeing her suspiciously.  "So are 
you saying that you were staring at Bert's crotch the whole time?"  
	She looked at me embarassedly.  "I wasn't!"  She was 
blushing and making a big show of her innocence.  "I just saw it 
because...It was pretty obvious!"
	I had been joking, and let her off easy.  I knew that I'd 
never have to worry about that with her.  "So you think he likes 
you?"
	She answered, "From the way he talks, I think he's afraid to 
admit that he likes strong women.  I can't wait to set Angel up on 
a training program.  She has the potential to build up nicely.  
He'll probably freak out when he sees her growing muscles, but 
deep down he knows he wants a strong woman."
	"Strong women are weird.  Have you ever seen those nasty 
women bodybuilders?  I don't understand how anyone could be 
attracted to them.  I mean it's so gross.  Those ladies all look 
like men."  
	She smiled and gave me the playfully dangerous look I was 
hoping for.  "You'd better be careful what you say to me.  When we 
get home I might just have to straighten you out."  As she said 
it, she gripped my ribs with one big hand, squeezing so suddenly 
that I jerked the wheel and almost hit our neighbor's minivan.  
	I was pissed but she was laughing hysterically.  
	"And they let you on the road?" she giggled.
	"Man, that was not funny."  
	She had to wait a few seconds to catch her breath.  We were 
just about to pull into our driveway.  Her tone changed suddenly.  
"You're right, sweetie, I'm sorry."  She put an arm over my 
shoulders and bent over to kiss me on the cheek.  "I keep 
forgetting that you're so.....ticklish!" she yelled as she 
squeezed the same spot.  
	I spent the next morning putting up a new mailbox.
	 
	Riverdance was at seven o'clock.  At twenty after six I was 
wearing holes in the rug in her living room with my anxious 
pacing.  She was still in the bathroom, taking her sweet-ass time 
getting ready.  I'd been ready since quarter 'til six -- I hate 
being late and having to rush.  Her laid-back, unhurried attitude 
towards it all was really getting to me.  Boy, was I going to let 
her have it when she came out of that bathroom.  IF she ever came 
out.  
	The doorknob clicked and I assumed my "angry stance" -- feet 
planted firmly, hands on hips, furrowed brow, icy stare.  She'd 
walk out of the bathroom and right into my line of fire.  I was 
ready.
	She appeared, and nothing happened.  The order to fire never 
came.  I melted at the sight of her.  I couldn't talk or move or 
think.  I could only LOOK.
	As I stood there, it had seemed like she'd emerged in slow 
motion -- frame by frame.  The first thing that came out from 
behind the door was a knee.  A tanned, beautiful knee.  Below it 
was a carmel-colored calf -- round and sculpted and very strong.  
Tapering down from the bulge of the calf was a smooth, elegant leg 
that flowed through a perfect ankle and ended in a long, sexy 
foot.  The knee moved forward slowly, exposing the bulbous mass of 
her thigh inch by inch.  With each inch, the lines of her thigh 
curved outwards, growing further and further apart.  I couldn't 
believe my eyes.  How far away was the peak?  It was too big 
already.  When enough of the silky smooth bulk had come out, the 
peak came and went, but  I still hadn't seen any signs of apparel.  
Where the hell was her dress?
	The surreal process went on and soon she stood in front of 
me, a delicious blend of butterscotch curves.  The first thing 
that struck me was the roundness of it all.  Everything about her 
was rounder than round -- solid round calves, immense round 
thighs, heavy round shoulders, round womanly hips.  All this 
roundness just seemed to be bursting out of her huge body.  It was 
as if God took your average beauty queen, tripled her size, but 
kept her proportions intact.  Then He decided to overinflate 
certain details of her body without giving her enough skin to 
cover it all properly, so each vein, each sinew and striation of 
each swollen muscle group were visible under a microscopically 
thin, opaque bronze finish as rich and silky as any fabric known 
to civilization.  It's like he went through all that meticulous 
sculpting just to create this heart-stopping, 
mind-numbing vision of excellence and tear-jerking beauty that 
brings a man to his knees in a joyous celebration of thanks and 
humble praisal of His wisdom.              
	Yes, she did have a dress on, by the way.  As stupefied as I 
was, I hadn't noticed at first.  A short, shadow-black minidress 
that her muscles seemed to be continuously trying to push their 
way out of.  It clung so close it looked like it had been 
airbrushed onto her.  Instead of going over the shoulders, four 
straps stretched up from the bust and connected to a choker-type 
thing.  At the bottom, the hem came down just enough to cover the 
perfect curve of her monstrous glutes.  For some reason I always 
feel a deep, penetrating sadness when I see a dress that short on 
an ass that wonderful.  Don't ask me why.  It has something to do 
with the philosophy that to desire is a greater pleasure than to 
have.  The dress made her ass look so perfect that I wanted to 
unwrap it like a present.  Then I'd realize that simply having a 
present to unwrap is more 
appealing than actually seeing and having what's inside.  You 
know?  But then again, having what's inside is great too.  Never 
mind ....... the point is that her ass looked fine as hell in that 
black dress.     
	Her legs looked about twice as long as usual, which was 
downright outrageous.  Fortunately their unearthly thickness took 
one's mind off their shocking length.  "Sexy" was not the word for 
those legs.  If they could be removed, one would be in the 
Smithsonian and the other in the Louvre.  It almost seemed like a 
crime for the majority of the world to be deprived of them.  Being 
the only one present to see them at this moment made me feel like 
I was the Chosen One or something.      
	Her hair was up and her makeup was on.  Diamonds glittered 
on her ears and on her wrists.  When she flashed me a smile, her 
radiant beauty made me feel terribly unworthy of her.
	"Well don't just stand there, sweetheart -- we're gonna be 
late," she said, taking advantage of my paralysis to turn the 
situation around on me.  It really didn't seem fair for her to 
exploit her physical effect on me like that, but at the moment I 
really didn't give a rat's ass about fairness.  
	I ran over to her and put my arms around her firm waist, 
pulling myself to her (because pulling her to me just doesn't 
work).  
	"Baby, you look.....unbelievable," I said in all 
seriousness.  All the while, I was naughtily sliding my hands 
downwards.  Feeling the divine curve of her super-thick glutes 
took me higher than any drug I'd ever taken in my life.  My hands 
could just barely touch each other as I reached the widest point 
around her hips.  Standing there with my arms full of the 
wonderfully heavy bulk of this woman's muscular hips, the thought 
of missing Michael Flatley and his world-famous dance troupe was 
becoming easier and easier to stomach.
	"Why don't we just stay home tonight?" I said, looking up at 
her with undisguised lust.
	She laughed and smoothed my hair with her fingers.  "But 
baby, you've been waiting for this for months."  Taking me by the 
shoulders, she separated us gently.  "Come on, you know you'll 
hate yourself if you miss it."  
	Her sensible words shook me out of my kamikaze hornball 
state of mind.  She's right.  I'd really be upset later if I 
missed this ("later" meaning ten minutes later when I'd have shot 
my wad and we'd have been hopelessly late).  Besides, she wasn't 
going to turn into a pumpkin after midnight.  Anything we could do 
now, we can do later.  But God damn, I hate having to wait.
	"Yeah, you're right," I said in an obvious tone of 
resignation.  "We're gonna have to rocket all the way down Highway 
65 if we're going to make it there in time."  
	She put an arm around me as we walked out and kissed me 
warmly on the side of my neck.  "I know you can get us there, 
baby."
	Every nerve on my body tweaked and I felt an electric rush.  
Hell yes, I could get us there on time.  At that moment I felt 
like I could do just about anything.                         	                
	The show was pretty spectacular, but I was less interested 
in the dancing than I was in the dancers.  Every last one of those 
women was a hottie.  During one particular dance, I was literally 
mesmerized by one woman's firm, athletic thighs as her skirt 
flicked up and down playfully with each twirl.  
	As if reading my thoughts, Karen laid a heavy hand on my 
thigh, her long fingers wrapping around quite a bit of it.  A 
sudden squeeze caused me to double over in my seat.  The muscles 
in her giant forearm stood out like steel cables, and I knew them 
to be just as hard.  It tickled at first, but her iron grip soon 
became painful.  I instinctively grabbed her fingers and tried to 
pry them loose, knowing full well how futile it was.  Jesus 
Christ, I thought, she could probably break my leg like this.    
	She leaned in close to whisper softly into my ear, "That 
woman has a nice body, doesn't she?"  I worried that the people 
around us were looking, but I couldn't see anything what with my 
head between my legs and all.  As I hesitated, her hand clamped 
down harder.  
	"Doesn't she?" she repeated.
	I wasn't in the mood to give in, so I bit her hand instead.  
She let out a yelp, and the audience all around us murmured.  We 
both sat up stiffly and stared straight ahead.  An usher came by 
to see what the disturbance was, and neither of us moved a muscle.  
The old couple beside us gave me an accusing stare, but nobody 
said anything.  Pretty soon the usher moved along, and the two of 
us exhaled simultaneously.  I looked over at Karen.  She was 
ostentatiously avoiding my eyes, and her lips were pressed tightly 
together.  I started to smile, but looked away and closed my eyes 
to avoid laughing.  She seemed to be holding her breath.  I 
couldn't maintain and started to shake with silent laughter.  
Suddenly the dam broke and she let out a snort, which led to 
contagious laughing that we couldn't stop.
	Two minutes later we found ourselves on the sidewalk in 
front of the theatre, both gasping for air.  The usher had been 
rather rude about the whole thing, but we didn't give him any 
trouble when he escorted us to the lobby.  
	"So now what?" she said as our mirth died down.
	I shrugged.  "I guess we go home."  And have lots and lots 
of hot dirty sex, I added to myself.
	"Look around, though," she said.  "Let's not let a nice 
evening in the city go to waste."  
	The downtown area did have a certain charm to it.  I was a 
bit reluctant, though.  Being a suburbanite, I'd always felt 
uneasy being in the center of the city.  This place was unsafe for 
people like us.  But she was right -- it'd be a shame to waste a 
nice night like this.  
	"All right," I said.  "We have about two hours left in that 
parking garage anyway.  Where to?"
 	We had a nice romantic walk through downtown, enjoying the 
unfamiliar atmosphere and the brisk night air.  I had my arm 
around her tight waist with my hand resting on her hip.  The feel 
of her muscular haunches contracting with each step lulled me into 
a blissful reverie.  We walked for about an hour at a slow, 
pleasant pace.  Pretty soon it all started to look the same, 
though, and I grew tired of walking.  
	"Let's go back and get the car.  I think we've had just 
about enough of the downtown scene for one night," I said.
	The way back proved to be tricky, though, since neither of 
us had watched where we were going.   Fortunately we were guided 
by a tall, crazy-looking building that stuck out above most of the 
other buildings.  We knew it was adjacent to the theatre, so we 
just aimed our footsteps towards it.  But we were heading a 
different way than the one we'd come from, and the area through 
which we passed seemed to be a lot less inviting.
	I was getting a bit nervous at our surroundings when I 
noticed three guys in a doorway up ahead of us.  They were acting 
in a rather loud and rambunctious manner -- kind of like the way 
drunks act.  Please God, don't let them see us.  
	"Hey, let's go a different way," I said to her quickly and 
tried to direct us another way.  Pushing against her didn't do 
much, though, and she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't 
notice at first.
	"What?  What are you doing, baby?" she asked.  
	I tried again in vain to push her away, saying, "C'mon, 
let's just go this way."
	Too late.  I heard, "Hey!  You guys!  Come on over here."
	I was about to piss my pants.  This was my worst nightmare.  
These guys might be real trouble, and I'd always had a fear of 
confrontations like this.  And of course they'd immediately start 
shit with Karen once they saw her muscles.  Guys always have 
something to prove once they see a strong woman, and drunk guys 
are the worst.  She may be strong, but she's not a fighter.  
Besides, there were three of them.  Okay, I thought, maybe I'm 
overreacting.  Maybe these are just nice folks out having a little 
fun.
	They were coming closer, yelling at us.  I finally got her 
to start moving away, but they were on top of us in no time.  She 
let out a frightened "oh!" and stepped behind me, squeezing my 
shoulders.  It must have seemed odd seeing an enormous woman like 
that hide behind a relatively miniscule guy like me.  It could 
have gone the other way, though -- I'd be hiding behind her if she 
hadn't beaten me to it.  
	"What the hell?  Look at the size of that fuckin' bitch!" 
one of them said.  "Hey dude, what's the matter, can't find a 
normal sized chick or what?"
	Another one walked straight up to me.  "What's up, man?  You 
got any change?  A dollar?" 
	I was about to say no when the first guy started walking 
over behind Karen.  "God damn, baby!  Now those are some serious 
legs!  Hey man, come over and check this shit out."
	The third one circled around and took a look.  "Shit," was 
all he had to say.  
	"Hey man, you wanna buy a watch?" said the second one.  He 
was up in my face now, and his stinking breath confirmed my doubts 
about their sobriety.  He pulled a watch out of his pocket.  "Five 
dollars."  
	"No, thanks," I said.  "Look, we're kind of in a hurry, so-"
	My girlfriend yelped and jumped as one of the other guys 
tried to grab her ass.  Raucous laughter followed.  She held on to 
me, and now she stood on the other side of me, sort of pointing me 
at her attackers.
	"Look fella's, we don't want any trouble, alright?" was all 
I could think of.
	Meanwhile the guy beside me was getting angry.  "Give me 
five dollars for this watch, man!  I know you've got five 
dollars."  
	I ignored him and backed away, Karen doing the same behind 
me.  
	"Man, give me five dollars, motherfucker!" he yelled and 
grabbed me all of the sudden.  His hands searched all over me for 
my wallet.  That brought the other two into it, and suddenly they 
were pulling at me, too.  I tried to push them away, but they all 
kept coming back.  Panic coursed through me as I drowned in a sea 
of dirty, stinky, grasping drunks.  
	Then something incredible happened -- one of the guys 
actually started to fly.  It was the watch salesman.  His eyes 
widened in confusion as he rose up before me, his feet kicking 
wildly several feet off the ground.  The bunching of his coat 
around his neck and armpits told me that my girlfriend had him by 
the collar.  Then he took off sideways, shooting through the air 
at incredible speed.  He hit the ground with a gut-wrenching thud.  
His body skipped on the pavement once and tumbled many yards 
before lying completely still.  One of his buddies turned around 
to see what happened and I saw Karen's massive arm fire past me to 
plant a fist right on the side of the guy's face.  There was a 
sharp cracking sound as she connected.  His body jerked backwards 
off his feet to land flat on the street.  The third guy saw the 
fate of his friends and froze.  Then he saw my girlfriend, a 
monstrous, raging colossus staring straight at him.  With a 
horrible, high-pitched shriek, he took off down an alleyway.
	I was in complete shock.  I looked over at the guy she'd 
tossed.  He was still not moving.  Then I looked at the guy she'd 
tattooed.  His body was twitching strangely in some sort of 
spasms.  His face looked weird.  I took a step towards him and 
bent down.  
	"Auughh!" I yelled and jumped backwards.  The left side of 
his face was totally crushed inwards, the blood and bones you 
could see...  I puked all over the sidewalk.  Then again.  Then 
again.  "Fuck me!" seemed the only appropriate thing to say.  
	I felt strong hands on my shoulders, and I immediately 
flinched and struck at the person.  When my hand hit something 
huge and solid, I realized who it was.  Looking up at her, all I 
could say was, "God!  Fuck, I think you killed him!"  She tried to 
hold my shoulders to calm me down.  I jumped back.  "Get away!  Oh 
Jesus!  Why?"  I was shaken and delirious.  
	Her face showed nothing except concern for me.  "C'mon, we 
need to get out of here," she said, holding out her hand.  I 
ignored it.  "We have to go, baby, come on!"
	Hearing the monster that had just committed these terrible 
acts call me "baby" was too much.  I picked a direction and 
started to run.  Within seconds, however, she was on top of me, 
her huge arms closing in around me and lifting me off my feet.  I 
struggled frantically against her but to no avail.  
	She was saying "shhhhh" over and over again into my ear.  
Then she was whispering "It's okay" and "Calm down".  She kept on 
repeating the words and I kept on struggling.  She had my arms 
pinned at my sides and was squeezing me firmly to her hard chest.  
For a long time I tried to fight against her, but gradually her 
words soothed my jangled nerves.  Her warm breath against my ear 
helped put me at ease.  Finally I quit fighting and calmed down.
	She hadn't touched those guys until they jumped me, I 
thought.  Even when they grabbed her, she didn't touch them.  She 
was just protecting me, I told myself.  For some reason that 
didn't make it right, though.  
	"Okay, okay," I said in a normal rather than panic-stricken 
tone of voice.  "I'm okay."
	Waiting a few moments to see if I was being honest, she 
slowly let me back down to the ground.  She still had an arm 
around me, though.  "Now let's get back to the car and we'll 
report this," she said firmly.  I nodded and we turned down the 
street.
	We said nothing on the drive home after we'd given the cops 
an anonymous tip.  When we got to her place, we got out of the car 
and I followed her to the door.  I was thinking to myself how cold 
and collected she seemed after that insane experience.  Didn't she 
have a conscience?  What's going through her mind?  Right after we 
got inside, her knees gave out and she fell.  I tried to hold her 
up, but she took me down with her.  Doubled over on her knees, 
sobs ripped out of her.  
	"Oh my God, Leo.  Oh my God..." she cried.  
	I pulled myself up and put my arms around her shoulders.  
She responded immediately by grabbing my lapels and burying her 
head in my chest.  I put an arm around her neck and one around her 
shoulder, rubbing her broad back like my mom used to do to me when 
I was upset.  Her sobs gradually died down, and she sat up.  
Seeing her sad, tear-streaked face made me want to cry as well.  
	"Leo, I-" she began, but I stopped her with a finger to her 
lips.  
	"Let's just go to bed," I said.  
	She nodded and wiped her face.  I got up and put my arms 
around her to help her up.  She rose, but through no help of mine.  
She smiled slightly as if she appreciated the effort, though.  I 
helped her undress, tossing the dress that had slain me three 
hours ago in a crumpled pile on the chair.  Once we were 
undressed, I pulled the covers back for her and she got in.  I 
rounded the bed to my side and pulled the blankets up over both of 
us.  She put her head on my chest.  
	"Goodnight, honey," she said tiredly.  Minutes later she was 
asleep.  
	I stayed awake for a long time afterwards, thinking.  
Thinking about the woman who had, less than an hour before, beaten 
two guys to death (or very close to it) in a matter of seconds.  A 
woman with such frightening strength that she could kill with a 
single blow.   A dangerously powerful woman whose mighty body lay 
by me right now.  How the hell was I supposed to sleep beside her 
after all that?  Maybe she had been protecting me, but did it have 
to go that far?  Was it an accident, or was Karen's attack 
deliberately murderous?  But most importantly, what the fuck do I 
do now?