Lucky guy                                
by delicious
another sort of bodybuilding
                                
"I'm a lucky guy."  I always said that even when bad things happened,
because there is almost always a bright side somewhere, if you look for it.  
Mind you, on this occasion I was saying it because somebody else found 
me WAY too lucky.

"Oooo, I hate you".  Andi-- my girlfriend-- said that.  She was smiling, 
of course, and putting another piece of thin-crust pizza into my mouth.  
She loves me, but hates my luck, the way I eat.  This was-- my 4th? 
or 5th piece?  "How come you can eat like that and stay so small!" 

This was not an angry voice, of course.  "And", as I call her, was 
looming above me, preparing to sit astride my lap on the couch in 
front of the TV.  "Come-on, babe: eat it up!"  How could I refuse, 
when every bite was followed by a slurp from Andi?  I liked to leave 
olive oil, garlic and tomato sauce all over my chin as I ate, encouraging
her to open that big hungry mouth of hers...oh, she took my whole chin
into her mouth. 

"Breathless again, babe?"  She knew a tummy full of pizza and beer, and 
Andi squishing me from on top was making it hard to breathe.  She also knew 
that I always find it a total turn-on, getting breathless with excitement.  

"Tell me I take your breath away.  Say it."  Ever since that song from the movie 
with the pilot and his instructor, the phrase had taken on a whole new meaning.  
The harder it was for me to say, pressed in between her big stomach and the 
couch, the better: a kind of proof of my love. 

"But you DO piss me off", she said, getting up for a moment...seeming a little 
winded herself.  She had turned away from me.  "Why can't I do what you do?"

I could be completely honest: we had that kind of relationship.  "It takes time.  
You have to work at it."  We had been over this so many times already.  Andi 
wanted to eat and eat and eat, but she didn't want to get any bigger than her 
current weight, which was about 300 pounds on her 5'10" frame, give or take 
10-20 pounds.  What to do?

I was happy either way.  

I started calling Andi "And" when she started growing... because I wanted there 
always to be more...and, and.....  That first year she had been so slow to believe 
I wanted her to cut loose, that I was not a jock fixated on the thin women at the 
gym.  But gradually being around me had its effect, because of the way I eat.  
I was a fat little boy, who never really stopped eating, but at least did discover 
sports in my teens, during my so- called growth spurt.  It was more of a fart than 
a spurt, because I never got bigger than 5'5".  But I have been a solid 170 pounds, 
with a bit of a gut since, without giving up either my bicycle or my calories.  
  
She was obviously bigger than me when we met, but one of those slouching 
people who try to pretend they're smaller.  How could she conceal a 5 inch height 
advantage, let alone her soft 190 pound bod?  But she was still dieting, still trying 
to be the woman her mother had wanted her to be.  That first year, of course, 
Andi went up and down, sometimes delighted by her sensuality and enjoyment, 
and other times revolted and in denial.  The one constant was my pigging out 
beside her, and loving her, big or small, fat or thin.  It was easy, and not just 
because of her leonine ferocity.  Anyone who worked with her saw that she 
played to win.  

The magic turning point happened when she discovered she was playing 
the wrong game.  She gave up on the "lose weight to please somebody else"
 game, when she discovered the "life is short, enjoy it" game.  Our second 
year together had been an orgy of food, often consumed with Andi on top of 
me, trying to see if I could feel her getting heavier by the mouthful.  

But while Andi kept asking me if I was at my limit, we never counted on 
her reaching her OWN limit.  The party was not exactly over, but it had changed.  
Andi was once again binging, then slowing down and even dieting.  I had no 
real solution, although I was determined to find a way to make her happy.

                    *    *    *    *    *

I go to the gym alone, because Andi won't come with me.  At the gym I find 
it constantly amusing to watch the women who come in.  Because of my height 
I'm not as threatening as other men, so I find women are often very open with me.  
It amazes me how almost every one will try to show that their intention is to
become thinner and thinner, as if men like thinness. Where'd they get such an 
idea?  Women with rounded breasts and asses will come in for weeks, ruining
their former glory.  Can you imagine a garage where people take their beautiful 
cars to be wrecked?  A fine art studio where great works of art get new colours 
and layers of paint splattered all over them?  Or a home restoration business 
that uses dynamite, claiming that piles of rubble are an improvement?  These
women were such fools, especially when they also lamented to me how they 
could never find a good man.  I tended to shut them out, figuring that someone 
with a warped sense of beauty would probably also have a warped sense of
male excellence: such as the idea that good men have to be tall.

I was listening to such a tirade, from the new consultant in the gym, a young, tightly
wired aerobics instructor.  Pretty as she was, there were no curves left to ruin on her
muscular body.  As we did our reps side by side, Kris began to talk, as women will
when I'm around.  New in town, hurting from her last break-up, sounding ready to give
up on men, but speaking to me becauise somehow I didn't count as a man. I said she
could come to dinner at our house.  When she made to brush off the come-on, I
explained that I was not only happily married, with a wife that she might enjoy meeting,
but we were also from a small town ourselves.  Given that Kris was looking to build her
clientele of weight-training clients, I thought Andi might like to meet her.  

I asked Andi when I got home, thinking maybe we'd do it.  "You know how busy I
am...Why did you invite her without asking me first?!" Mo was not amused.  

"I'm asking you now... if you don't want to, we won't...."

"I can't now.  Oooo, I hate you"...She gave me a funny look, then hugged me anyway. 
"You're up to something... I can tell."  We were up against the wall, and Big Andi teased
my gut with hers.  "Come on.... out with it".  I laughed, but simply said that I thought we
might get along, that's all.

The first time little Krissy saw big Andi, I saw the mental critique, as her eyes widened
for a second... but she recovered, and burst into a big grin.  "uh... didn't we.... go to
school together?"  While Andi initially denied it, it turned out that yes, they were old
pals.  Funny thing... Kris didn't look at all like her yearbook pictures, it turned out.

I never expected to be the third wheel that night.  I sat back, quietly, while the two
women reminisced.  Andi was in one of her "I'm not going to eat" moods, perhaps
because she was acting like the old Andrea from high school.  I did my usual imitation
of a garboretor, clearing off not only Krissy's plate, but, sadly, Andi's as well.  They both
gave me that disgusted look.

As Andi began her standard "I can't stand to watch", Kris surprised me.  There was a
moment of silence, until Andi and I realized that Kris was in tears. I continued to watch,
silently, while Kris composed herself, then began to say "I don't understand..." But she
stopped, and started to cry quietly again, burying her head in her hands.  Andi and I
exchanged thoughtful, confused glances, but said nothing.

Kris looked up, and started to laugh.  "I've got an idea....tell me if this makes sense to
you".  She started to tell us the story of her break-up.  She had lived with Brad for over
three years.  They had met in a gym, where she'd gone as a chubby young girl.  While
Kris never used words like "stacked" or "endowed", she didn't have to.  I'd seen the pics
from the yearbook, where Kris was the chubbier one, and I'd tried to avoid saying
anything insulting: but Kris was another one who'd wrecked a great work of art in the
gym.  "So here's my idea....do you think, maybe not all men want women to be thin?"

I said nothing, stifling the urge to laugh.  But I watched Andi master herself, counting to
ten, to control the urge to shout.  After the storm had passed, Andi said simply "why
don't you ask Jim why we're together?  Do you think he asked you here"....she laughed
hysterically, but became more agitated with each word..." because he wants to dump
me, and take up with you?!"  I could read Andi's mind. at this point, as she probably
was on the verge of throwing Kris out, tears or no tears.  But then, they HAD been
friends, and knew how to talk to each other.  "Ask him", she finally said, her face pale,
and maybe a little shaken.  I wondered how secure Andi was, herself, to seem so
upset.

I glanced at the women, to make sure that I could begin to talk, and that Andi wasn't
about to blow up.  I pulled out the yearbook pictures.  "See this one?"  I pointed at a
picture from her graduating year.  "This is what attracted Brad, not your tight glutes, or
flat stomach."  I didn't know how to put it without being rude or forward.  "What did that
feel like?  Unattractive? Didn't boys go crazy for you?"  

Kris didn't answer.  As it turned out, Kris composed herself, and apologized for her
outburst.  She left way too soon after what might have been her big discovery: if she
had only paid attention to her own words.  But she refused to have any dessert, and left
that night looking tighter wound than ever.  At least Andi and Kris had made a pact to
get together, at the gym.  Kris offered to train Andi for free.

I know what many of you are thinking: how could I allow it, if there  was the possibility
that Andi would end up like Kris?  I have two answers: one, I don't own Andi, I love her;
and the other answer is, are you sure you know who's the teacher and who's the
student?

Tonight's dinner might be an illustration of the learning process.  Now if I weren't the
sort to say "I'm a lucky guy" all the time, I might complain.  I could complain about how
expensive dinner was.  Or how tired I am.

But I should also mention that dinner was expensive because Krissy brought her new
boyfriend over.  Vince is not the sort of man Kris would ever be seen with before.  He's
a driver for the sanitation department: a big strong guy, maybe 280 pounds on his  5'9"
frame.  I wonder if hefting the cans at work has made him strong enough to lift all 210
pounds of Krissy.  She's still a bodybuilder, but the body she's built has muscle and fat
as well,  and my oh my, but her breasts have made a comeback.  I didn't get to clean
anyone's plate because everyone was reloading, between drinks and laughs.  Funny,
how we had more fun once we cut loose... 

And sure I'm tired: Andi is so demanding.  But my luck is to have such a wonderful wife,
who not only seemed to save Kris's life, but is a constant blessing to me.  The gym has
been magic for Andi, who has given up thinking of limits, now that she is adding muscle
to her fat.  There's no reason to hold back, because she burns most of her calories. 
Her legs are strong enough to easily straddle me, while she says " Tell me I take your
breath away". They have to be strong for her to flood all 410 pounds of her across me. 
She has the thighs of a sumo wrestler  So I have to keep pumping iron, just to keep firm
enough to withstand her pounding pelvis.  I love it so much, especially because she
keeps getting bigger.  She burns most, but not all  those calories she consumes,
whether she's riding the stationary bike, or riding me...so now she only weighs herself
to try to excite me more, before she climbs onto me.  Oh yes: I am breathless.  And I
am a lucky guy.