Lisa
By TheShadow

                              Lisa

          I was walking through the mall, doing some last minute
Christmas shopping, when I saw her.  She was in the bookstore,
reading a magazine.  I think it was "Shape," or some other
fitness-type mag.  What first caught my attention was her calves. 
They were round and firm, the kind of musculature that shows on a
track athlete.  I noticed that her sleeve was bulging slightly at
the bicep, but it was loose, and I couldn't see for sure what her
arms looked like.  She had long, straight, brunette hair, and
green eyes the color of emeralds.  I couldn't take my eyes off
her.  She must have noticed me staring, as she looked up from her
magazine, over at me.  Embarrassed, I quickly looked down.

          I picked up a cooking book, and pretended to read it. 
Suddenly, I was keenly aware of a person standing next to me.  It
was her.  She looked at me, and said, "I'm not a very good cook. 
I'm thinking about getting a basic cookbook.  Could you recommend
one?"  I looked at her.  She was young -- about 19 or so.  She
was wearing a long sleeve green blouse, buttoned loosely over a
black leotard and cinched tight at the waist, and a white skirt. 
I noticed a deep indentation where her throat met her clavicle,
and a distinct line down the center of her chest.  Her waist was
tiny -- about 20 inches.  Clearly an athlete.  But it was her
eyes that really drew my attention.  They were green,
translucent.  Captivating.

          "It depends on what style of cooking you'd like.  I'll
bet you're looking for low-fat and healthy cooking," I said.  She
smiled, and I felt my face get warm.  That smile! Those eyes!
Incredible!

          "Yes," she responded.  "I always ruin everything I try
to cook lowfat.  It either tastes horrible, or I burn it."  Shy
as I am, I couldn't resist the opening:
"Really? Lowfat cooking just takes a little practice.  I make a
killer veggie lasagne, using no fat at all."
"Gee, how do you do it?  I'd love to try it some time."
"No problem.  Why don't you come to my place Friday, and I'll
show you."

Before I knew it, I had a date with this incredible, beautiful
woman.  Her name was Lisa, and she was 20 years old.  A little
short for me -- about 5 feet, 1 inch tall, but I couldn't take my
mind off of her the rest of the week.

Friday night came, and the doorbell rang about 5:30 p.m.  It was
her.  She showed up in tapered jeans and a spaghetti-strap pink
blouse.  My impression about her arms was right.  She had
definite, rounded shoulders and biceps, and when they moved, I
could almost see each muscle fiber.  I guess you could say that
she was almost all muscle, no fat.

I got her a glass of wine.  Thank God she liked cabernet, so I
broke out the Mondavi '74.  This was a night to impress.  We
cooked and talked and laughed, and then we ate.  She was
sufficiently impressed, and I was captivated by her smile, her
laugh, her body.  What a body.  OK, I'm not a breast man.  So it
didn't bother me that her breasts were probably an A or B cup. 
In that blouse, I could see them standing straight out.  The
bottom of the blouse never touched Lisa's stomach.  I could
definitely see the bottom of her abdominal muscles, separated,
and I began to fantasize about what she would look like out of
that blouse.  Maybe it was the wine.

Suddenly, she said, "you've been staring at my arms all night."
"I know," I said.  "I'm sorry, but you have the most muscular
arms I've seen on a woman in a long time.  Are you a
bodybuilder?"
"No.  I'm athletic.  I tried lifting weights for awhile, but most
of the machines and free weights in the gym got too light.  So I
just do what I enjoy, and lift when I feel like it."
"Too light?" I responded incredulously.  "You're kidding, right?"
"No.  I'm very strong."  She looked down.  "Okay, this is the
part where you get intimidated and find some way to end the
evening, right?"
"Wrong," I replied.
Lisa looked up at the ceiling.  "Oh, God.  Don't tell me you're
going to start that domination bullshit now.  I hate that.  Every
man I meet either is intimidated, or wants me to dominate him."
"No," I said.  "Can we get away from talking about 'every man
you've met' and just talk?  I'm not into domination, I just think
that you are fascinating, and, by the way, I am turned on by
strong women.  Also, by the way, I think you have the most
incredible green eyes I've ever seen."
She blushed.  Then she leaned across the table and gave me a peck
on the cheek.  "I'm sorry," she said.

We went into the parlor and had coffee next to each other on the
sofa.  We talked some more about life, philosophy, and whether
Descartes was right or whether we truly exist independent of our
belief that we exist.  The whole time, I couldn't take my mind
off the fact that I could feel the warmth of her body, even
though we were nearly a foot apart.  We laughed about anything,
everything, and I began to realize what a special, incredible
person I had in my house.

About the time I reached that realization, she put her hand on my
leg, and looked up at me.  "You said you like strong women? 
You're not intimidated?"
"The stronger, the better."  My face got warm again.
"You're blushing.  That's cute."  She brushed my face with the
back of her index finger.  She gave me another peck on the cheek. 
Then we kissed.  She put her arms around my neck, and I put mine
around her.  I felt her lats.  They were like rocks.  I brushed
her hair, which was soft and smooth.  I felt her breathing
change.
"Wow," I said.  "That was the most incredible kiss."
Lisa just looked at me.  She ran her fingers through my hair.  I
felt myself getting hard.  I leaned in to kiss her again, and she
put her hand up.
"Before we do what I think we're about to do," she said, "I want
you to know what you're getting yourself into."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Lisa flexed her arm.  Her bicep was about the size of a baseball. 
I gasped.
"Feel this," she said.  I did.  It was like a rock.  So was I.  I
told her.  "I'm so turned on right now, I can't begin to tell
you."
Her breathing was still altered.  "So am I.  I've never been this
turned on before.  That's why I think we should stop.  I might
hurt you."
I was throbbing.  I felt her arm again, and then her shoulder. 
Her muscles were clearly very dense.  "I'm willing to take the
chance," I said.  "I think you're incredible, and I don't think
you'd hurt me."
We started kissing again, this time, passionately.
"Not intentionally," she said.  "But I don't know what will
happen if I lose control."
I giggled.  "I'll risk a few bruises."
"You don't understand," she answered.  She put her right elbow on
the coffee table, hand in the air.  "Let's armwrestle."
Oh, come on, I thought.  This is dumb.  But, if that's what it
took to turn her on, I'm game.
"Use both hands," she said.  I looked at her incredulously.  Then
I shrugged, and put both of my hands in her right hand.
"One - two -- three."  I pushed on her hand, gently, at first. 
Then with all of my might.  Her hand didn't budge a millimeter.
"Let me know when you're ready," she said.  I winced.  "I'm
ready."

Lisa put her hand down to the table so quickly that I flipped
onto my back.  "You see?" she said.  Then she stood up and walked
over to my piano.  She put her right hand under it, and lifted
one end completely off the floor without straining.  At this
point, I was a little scared.  But I was also more turned on than
I had ever been in my life.

I stood up and walked over to her.  I ran my hand lightly down
her neck and over to her shoulder.  Her skin was very warm, and
her muscles were hard.  "Lisa," I said.  "You are an incredible,
beautiful, sexy woman.  I want to make love to you, and I will
hope that I don't get hurt.  But the fact is, I'll risk it. 
Besides, when have you ever been in any real relationship where
you haven't risked getting hurt?"

She smiled, and I kissed her.  She kissed me back.  We began
kissing more and more passionately, and again I felt her
breathing change, get heavier.  She put her hands behind my back
and untucked my shirt.  I started to unbutton it, and she put her
hands on mine.  "Let me," she said.  She began to unbutton my
shirt, and I began to lift her spaghetti strap blouse off.

Then I saw her in just her jeans.  My eyes grew wide, and I
couldn't help gasping again.  I could see every abdominal muscle,
every striation in her shoulders and arms, and her breasts stood
straight out.  She was obviously pleased by my reaction, as the
kissing got heavier.  I began to run my hands up and down her
back, which was as defined as her front.  I began kissing her
clavicle, and she began to gasp.  "Oh, my God, oh my God," she
was saying.  I put my hand gently on one breast, as I kissed the
other.  She began to pant.  Then she put her hands under my arms
and pulled me back up to her face.  We were kissing again, hard.

I put my arms around her neck, and then lowered them and began to
lightly press on her breast with one hand while we continued to
kiss.  She moved her hand down between my legs.  It was
everything I could do to keep from coming right then and there.

She then pushed me up against the wall with such force it knocked
the breath out of me.  I moved my hands to her shoulders and felt
them, holding me against the wall.  She put one hand on my chest
and said, "try to stop me," as she moved the other toward my
zipper.  I tried to wriggle out from her hold, but I couldn't. 
Then I grabbed her other hand with both of mine, and tried to
pull it away.  It was as if I wasn't even there.  

Lisa quickly unzipped me, unbuttoned my pants, and pulled them
down to my ankles.  I did the same to her jeans.  She then
pressed her body up against mine, and I felt a wave of warmth
rush through me.  I reached down to touch her legs, and her
quadriceps were every bit as hard as the rest of her.  I ran my
hands around the back, and even her rear was like a rock.

"Let me down, I want to kiss your legs," I said.  "Try to get
loose," she said, and giggled.  I grabbed her outstretched arm
and tried to bend it at the elbow, with no success.  She was
clearly being turned on by this, so I made a big show of not
being able to break free.  Truth is, I couldn't break free.

I began to kiss her forearm.  The sinews that were standing out
on it softened, and her arm began to go loose.  I continued
kissing, up to the inside of her elbow, and worked my way to her
shoulder.  I kissed her neck, and she rolled her head back and
moaned.  Slowly, ever so slowly, I began kissing my way down her
body -- that incredible body.  I have to say at this point that I
never enjoyed a journey so much as the one I took from her neck
to her waist.  I flicked my tongue lightly back and forth across
her nipples.  Then I pressed lightly on one breast with one hand
while flicking the nipple of the other with my tongue.  She was
panting heavily.  I moved down to her abdominal muscles, and
began tracing the outline of each with my tongue, then kissing
it.  I kissed my way back up her body.  Then I began kissing her
ankles.

Suddenly, Lisa picked me up by the waist and slung me over her
shoulder.  She carried me into the bedroom, and threw me on the
bed.  Then she jumped on top of me and began to kiss me.  "Where
was I?" I giggled.  "Oh yes."  I rolled over on top of her, and
started kissing her ankles again.  Then I began to work my way
slowly up her legs.  My first impression was right.  Incredible,
round calves.  I began kissing the inside of her knee, and worked
my way up the inside of her leg.  At this point she was gasping.

Then I moved back to her upper waist and began working my way
down again.  "Oh, God, keep going!" she gasped.  "You'll just
have to wait," I replied.  She looked at me and smiled an evil
grin.  "No, I don't," she said.  She grabbed my head and pushed
it between her legs.  I guess she was ready, and I knew that I
didn't have any choice, anyway, so I began kissing her between

her legs.  She began to buck, and I just kept at it, until
suddenly I felt her whole body tense up, she bucked extremely
hard, and I got knocked off the bed.

I climbed back on the bed and she grabbed me and kissed me,
extremely hard.  "That wasn't so painful," I said.  "See, I knew
you wouldn't hurt me."  "Just wait -- it's not over yet," she
said.  In one move, she rolled me onto my back and laid on top of
me.  She intertwined her fingers with mine, and held my arms out,
pressed against the bed.  She began kissing my throat and my
chest.  "Try to move," she said, so I did, in vain, of course.  I
decided to see how strong Lisa really was, so I tried to break my
hands free from hers with all of my strength.  She looked at me
and smiled.  She knew I had really tried that time.  "See?" she
said.

She moved my arms down to my side, and began to kiss her way down
my chest and stomach.  It was incredibly pleasurable, but
excruciating.  I tried to wriggle free, but with not even the
least amount of success.  Then she got to my waist.  She put her
hands under my arms again, and picked me up over her head.  "This
is incredible," I thought.  I put my hands on her forearms and
felt every sinew.  As I moved down her arms, I felt those
incredibly round, incredibly hard biceps and shoulders again. 
She took me into her mouth while holding me up, over her head,
against the wall.  "My God, Lisa.  You are the most incredible
woman I've ever met," I said.  She pressed her chest harder
against my legs, and began moving her head back and forth.  I ran
my hands along her neck and shoulders, all of which were as hard
as a rock.  "I want to be inside you," I said.  "I want to feel
your body against mine."  She let me down, and kissed me,
passionately, against the wall.  Then she wrapped her legs around
my waist, put her hand under my rear, and lifted me inside her. 
She pressed her body against mine, against the wall, and began
kissing me quickly.  "Just let go," she said.  "Let me do all of
the work."

I did.  I traced my hands up and down her rock-hard back, her
rock-hard legs, her rock-hard thighs, her rock-hard arms and
sides.  I came with an intensity I had never known before.  I
went completely weak, as she held me up against the wall and
continued to kiss me.  I wrapped my arms around her neck and
hugged and kissed her right back.  This woman was incredible. 
Already I was ready for more.



                          Lisa: Part 2

"Let's hold each other until you're ready again," Lisa said.
"Okay."  

I was ready now, but holding Lisa for awhile seemed like a great
idea.  We laid back down on the bed, and I wrapped my arms around
her.  We began to kiss, and I marveled at what seemed like an
incredible irony:  The softness of her lips, combined with the
hardness of her body.  And her body was incredibly hard.  It felt
like smooth, warm marble.  When she moved, I could feel her
muscles ripple.
"I must be the luckiest guy on the face of the earth."
"Why do you say that?" she asked.  I blushed.  I must have been
thinking aloud.
"You are the sexiest, most incredible woman I've met, and ..."  I
couldn't finish.  She smiled, and kissed me.  "You're not so bad
yourself."
She asked me to hold her as tight as I could.  "Don't worry, you
can't hurt me," she quickly added.  I knew she was right, so I
hugged her with all of my might.  I felt her back, hard as stone,
and her abdominal muscles, pressed against mine.  Her front was
as hard as her back, except where her breasts added a touch of
softness against my chest.
"Ummm, that feels good," she said.  "Yes, it does."  She looked
at me with a twinkle in her eye, and I smiled.  "You hold me as
tight as you can," I said.
"No, I could hurt you.  Very badly," she responded.  "I could
accidentally break bones."  
"Well, I'll tell you if you're hurting me, and then you can
stop," I said.  Her arms were wrapped around my upper torso. 
Lisa sighed, and kissed me gently.  Then I felt her arms begin to
tighten.  I kissed her tenderly.
"Now tell me if it hurts," she said.  It didn't.  It felt good. 
I moved my hands up and down her back.  The muscles on her back
and sides were very, very hard, but her skin was so smooth.  I
continued to kiss her, on the lips, on the cheek.  Her arms were
getting tighter, and I could feel her breasts compacting against
my chest.  I could feel that she had thick muscle under her
breasts.

I continued to hold her as tight as I could, and continued to
kiss her, more frenetically.  Lisa's arms started getting
tighter, and suddenly, I noticed that I was having some
difficulty breathing.  "Let me know," she said.  "No, it's okay,"
I gasped back.  She suddenly increased her grip, and it knocked
all of the air out of me.  I tried to inhale, but I couldn't.  My
arms got weak, and I couldn't hold her tightly anymore.  The room
began to spin.

I tried to tell Lisa to stop, but I had no air in my lungs to
make any sound.  I began to feel a distinct pain in my ribcage,
as it began to strain under her python-like grip.  "What did I
get myself into," I thought, and panicked.  I tried to wriggle
out of her grip, but I couldn't move.  I began tapping her on the
back frantically.  The room was spinning quickly now, and I was
in some serious pain.

Lisa immediately loosened her grip, and I began to gasp for air. 
"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry," she said.  "I didn't realize you
wanted me to stop."
"I lost my wind, I couldn't tell you," I said.  I saw tears in
her eyes.  The room was slowing down, and I reached up to wipe
the tears away.  As I did, I felt a sharp pain in my side.  I
winced and groaned.  "It's alright," I said.  "I asked for it. 
Come here."  I put my right hand behind her neck and tried to
pull her toward me.  Instead, I pulled myself off the bed.  "Lean
forward," I asked.  She did, and I was once again on the bed.  I
began to kiss her lips, and then her eyes.  "You're crying. 
Don't cry."  She began kissing me back.  "Did I hurt you?"
"Only when I laugh," I responded, and chuckled.  I felt a sharp
pain go up my side, but hid it -- not very well, apparently. 
"I'm so sorry."
"Hey, I'll live."
She put her arms back around me, but didn't squeeze at all, I
noticed.  I kissed her.  "I won't break," I told her.  "Yes, you
will," she said.
"Really, don't worry about it."  I hugged her as tight as I
could, and make extra efforts not to let her know that my side
was hurting while I did it.  "Let's take a shower," I said.
Lisa got off the bed, and as I tried to do the same, my side
hurt, and I fell back to the bed.
"Here, let me help," she said, and before I could say anything,
she slipped her hands under my back and legs and hoisted me off
the bed in one fluid motion.  I put my arm around her neck and
gave her a peck on the cheek.  "How odd this must look," I
thought to myself.  "A tiny little girl cradling a much larger
man in her arms like a baby."  But, of course, this was no
ordinary "little girl."
I brushed my hand across her soft hair and we began to kiss, more
passionately.  Her kisses were something else.  I felt myself go
totally limp in her arms, as she cradled me in them and we
continued to kiss.  "You can put me down if I'm getting heavy," I
said.  "You're kidding, right?" she smiled.  "How strong are you,
anyway, Lisa?" I asked.

"Very strong."  
"I know, but how strong is 'very strong'?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, have you ever tried to objectively measure your strength?"
"You mean, like, in a gym with weights?"
"Yes, how much in the way of bench presses, deadlifts, and the
like?"
"I told you, All of the weights in the gym got too light for me."
"You mean, you weren't joking about that?"
"No," she answered.  
"Yeah, but you can easily load 800 or 900 pounds on a free weight
bar," I said.
"Yes, I know."
"Well, but how about bicep curls?"
"Well," she responded, "you can't load more than about 225 pounds
onto a dumbbell."

Suddenly, I was incredibly turned on again.  Amazing how that
just happens.  "Well, I weigh about 240," I said, and smiled.
Lisa put me back down on the bed.
"Reach over and lock your fingers behind your knees," she
commanded.  I kneeled on the bed and did so.  She then quickly
slipped her right forearm under my abdomen and cranked out 20
reps with me as her "dumbbell."  I looked up at her.  She wasn't
even winded.  "That is impressive.  How in the heck did you get
so strong?" I asked.  "I don't know.  I was born strong," she
responded.  "From the time I was a little girl, I could lift
impressive weights.  I guess I just got stronger as I got older."
I kissed her hand, and ran my finger down the indentation in the
inside of her forearm.

Then I put my hands on her shoulders and climbed up onto her,
reverse piggyback-style.  She put her right hand under my rear
end and giggled.  "To the showers," I commanded.  I rode her all
the way there.

We climbed in and let the warm water caress our bodies.  The
warmth felt good.  I pulled out the brush, and coated it with
soap.  Then I touched the back of Lisa's neck, ever so lightly,
with the soapy brush.  Her body tensed up, and I saw every muscle
and the sides of her ribcage jump out from her skin.  "Back of
the neck."  I made a mental note.  I ran the brush lightly down
the indentation of Lisa's spine.  I could feel her shudder.  Lisa
backed up, pressing me against the shower wall with her back. 
She turned her head, and I leaned my head forward, over her
shoulder, as we began to kiss.  I dropped the brush and wrapped
my arms around her, pressing lightly on her breasts.  Then I
lathered up my hands with the soap.  I began to run my soaped
hands up and down her front while she still had her back to me,
pressing me against the wall.  I could feel her body shudder each
time I came close to her breasts.  "Your breasts are very
sensitive, aren't they?" I asked.  "Very," she gasped back.
"Turn around," I said.  She complied.  I began kissing her
clavicle, and worked my way down.

Lisa put her hands flat against the shower wall.  I soaped my
hands some more, and then began running my right hand slowly
along the left side of her ribcage.  At the same time, I began
kissing and licking her right breast, being careful to avoid the
nipple.  Lisa began to pant, and I knew what was coming next. 
Then I began kissing and licking her left breast, also avoiding
the nipple, and running my left hand up and down her right side. 
"That feels so good, don't stop," she said.  "Don't worry," I
responded.

I moved my left hand onto her right breast, and pressed it as I
kissed the nipple on her left breast.  "Ohhh," she moaned and
shuddered, and fell back against the wall of the shower.  Her
knees went soft and she collapsed to the shower floor.  I kneeled
down and wrapped my arms around that incredible torso, weakened
but still hard as a rock, and lifted her back up against the
wall.  She put her hands around my head, and pulled me to her
face.  She kissed me, hard.  I continued to run my hands along
her side, like chiselled marble, and she was pumping her waist as
we kissed.  I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed as hard as
I could.  She moaned.  She reached her hand down and began to
stroke my penis.  "Why, you have a hard on!" she giggled.  This
time it was my turn to moan.  "Let's have a look!" she said.  
Lisa reached her hand down between my legs and lifted me with one
hand until my waist was at her eye level.  I rested my hands on
her shoulders and felt her muscles ripple.  "Is that for me?" she
asked.  "No, it's for the milkman," I joked back.

She pressed my back against the shower wall, and wrapped her
hands around my waist.  Then she stepped back and buried my erect
penis in her hair.  She slowly lowered me over her forehead, and
her nose.  She kissed the tip, and I shuddered.  "Let's see,
where are you most sensitive?" she asked.  "Anywhere you touch
me," I gasped back.  She ran her tongue along the underside of my
penis and I felt the room begin to spin again.  Then she held me
up against her face and began to lower me, along her body.  I
felt my penis touch her neck, her breasts, her abdominal muscles. 
Then she began to lift me again.  I closed my eyes and ran my
hands along her arms.  Her triceps were bulging out like
horseshoes, and her shoulders were round and hard.  Then I felt
her erect nipple against the underside of my penis.  She moved me
slowly up and down, and we both moaned, simultaneously.  I ran my
hands up, along her neck and cupped her face in my hands.  She
kissed my stomach.  I leaned over and kissed the top of her head.

"I want to kiss you," I said.  She lowered me to the floor and we
began kissing, strongly, passionately.  I soaped up my right hand
again and began running it over her left nipple.  I soaped my
left hand, wrapped it around her, and began moving it along her
spine.  I felt the warm water of the shower against Lisa's back
and the back of my hand.  Lisa wrapped both hands around me, both
of us kissing frantically, and she pressed me up against the
shower wall.  She reached one hand down and put me inside her.  I
thrust forward, and she shuddered for a second.  Then she
squeezed my penis and I felt a second of pain, until she let up. 
I reached down and ran my hand along the inside of her leg.  I
felt a deep indentation between her quadriceps and her hamstrings
that was appearing and disappearing as she began to pump.  We
both began to moan, and just as I felt her beginning to climax, I
reached over and turned off the hot water.  I felt her whole body
tense up and she pulled me against her, hard.  I began to climax,
and at that point I noticed that she was holding me so tight that
I couldn't breathe again.  As I climaxed, I lost consciousness.

I woke up on the bed, Lisa lying next to me with her hand on my
shoulder.  I smiled.  "That was fun," I said.  She giggled, and
we kissed.


                     Lisa, Part 4: The Party

          That night, we decided to go to a Christmas party in
Malibu.  My friend, Ray, was throwing the party.  He threw it
each year and I never missed it.  You see, Ray was an underwear
model, and he usually had all of his male and female modelling
friends show up for his party.  I enjoyed hanging out with the
"beautiful crowd."  Models get certain privileges not given to
the common folk.  We usually ended up going out dancing when the
party wound down.  All of the clubs would let us right in, and
when we stopped at a restaurant, they usually sat us in the
window with no waiting.  Also, when I was out with them, I never
had to buy drinks -- more than enough rounds were usually bought
for the table or provided on the house.

Lisa was reluctant to go at first.  She told me that she didn't
like "stuck up models," and that she spent more than her fair
share of time with guys who needed their ego stroked.  I
persuaded her that Ray wasn't like that (he wasn't), and that she
would have fun.  She grudgingly agreed to go, but only if I
promised to make it up to her if she didn't have a good time. 
Lisa went home to shower and change, and I called Ray to let him
know I'd be bringing a date.  He tried to talk me out of it,
telling me that the female-to-male ratio at the party was already
nearly 2-to-1, that the likelihood of my getting a gorgeous date
at the party was "virtually guaranteed," and that he didn't want
to have to dance with more than his "fair share."  I told him a
little about Lisa, that at this point I was enthralled with her,
and that at this point no "normal gorgeous woman could possibly
measure up."  Ray and I had been friends since high school, so we
could kid around like that with each other.  Ray sounded dubious. 
"I don't know that I could date a woman whose arms are bigger
than mine," he said.  Ray's arms were huge, and Lisa's arms by no
measure were bigger than his.  "Hey, what can I say?" I asked. 
"I may be in love."  He told me that my "bitch" would be welcome.

Knowing Ray's sense of humor, I gave him a warning:  "By the way,
whatever you do, please don't call her a bitch."
"Why not?" he asked.
"It just . . . pisses her off, that's all.  Just don't do it," I
said.
"Okay, I won't call your bitch a bitch.  Alright with you?"
"Just consider yourself warned," I said.

I stopped by Lisa's apartment to pick her up.  She met me at the
door and closed it behind her.  She was wearing a sheer, scoop-
neck satin-style black dress that went to her knees.  I could see
a distinct line down the center of her chest, and thought how she
looked incredible in anything she wore.  She had on black satin
high heels that showed off her shapely calves to perfection.  Her
emerald eyes shone bright, like beacons.  Again, I smelled apples
and strawberries, and a woody-musky cologne that I couldn't quite
make out.  But it was quite alluring.  Luckily, the long stem
rose that I had stopped to get matched her outfit exactly.  She
smelled it, and ran it down over her lips, chin and neck.  She
smiled at me.  "Ah, to be a perfect red rose in the winter," I
said in jest.  "Remind me later," she joked back.  I just wanted
to go back into her apartment and cuddle, but I knew we were
going to be late to the party.

On the way over, we talked about our favorite musicians (I liked
blues, jazz, and classical, but she seemed to prefer heavy metal. 
I could handle Aerosmith, but passed on Def Leppard.  I made a
mental note to try to drag her to a blues club sometime).  I let
her choose the radio station, and waited until Led Zepplin came
on, whom we both liked.  We also both agreed that Barry Manilow
bit the big one.  We both enjoyed ballet, and we both hated
opera.  She hated sushi, which thrilled me to no end.  I always
considered sushi bars to be the yuppie version of goldfish
swallowing.

We also both agreed that Bob Dole came off as less of a jerk when
he appeared on Saturday Night Live *after* the elections.  Lisa
was a business student at UCLA, so when we tried to talk about
the economy, her comments went right over my head.  All the
while, as we talked, I was trying to keep my eyes on the road,
and not to think about the incredibly heady scent of apples,
strawberries, wood and musk drifting my way.  As we rode there, I
placed my hand lightly on her thigh, and she covered my hand with
hers.  Her thigh was like sculpted marble under the satin-feel
dress.  "Eyes on the road," she said, as I glanced her way.

We made it to Ray's house, and the party was well underway.  The
house was on a hill overlooking the Pacific Ocean, with a huge
bay window and a perfect view of the coast.  As we drove up the
driveway, I could hear the music blaring out of the house, and I
saw some people standing on the steps at the side door, smoking a
joint.  I parked the car, got out, opened Lisa's door and held
out my hand.  She put her right hand into mine and lowered her
right leg onto the driveway, revealing that splendid calf.  She
stood up and squeezed my hand slightly.  Then she gave me a peck
on the cheek.  I did the same.  Her emerald eyes shone and her
brunette hair glistened.  She looked magnificent, and as far as I
was concerned, I was arriving with what was far and away the most
beautiful woman at that party.  "Remember," she said, "if I don't
have any fun, you have to make it up to me."

As we walked in the door, I spotted Ray almost immediately,
sitting on the back of the sofa and talking with three incredible
looking women.  He saw me, smiled, and came over to us.  "Hi!  I
was wondering where you were!" He said to me.  "And this must be
the amazing Lisa!"  He turned and looked at her.  "Why, she's
just a tiny little thing!" he said, and wrapped his hand
completely around her upper arm.  Her eyes flashed angrily at me. 
Ray's attention was momentarily diverted.  "What did you tell
him?" she hissed under her breath.  "Nothing!" I answered. 
"Really!"  She didn't believe me.  Ray leaned over and gave Lisa
a peck on the cheek, introduced us around, and moved on, ever the
consummate party facilitator.

The party was in full swing when Lisa took me into the bathroom. 
"What did you tell him?" she asked angrily.  "Nothing," I said,
and put my hand on her shoulder.  She shook it off.  She glared
at me.  "I don't like living in a fishbowl.  What did you tell
him?"  
"Okay, okay.  I told him that we had just met the other day, that
you were the most incredible woman I've ever met, that you were
very strong, and that I am totally captivated by you.  That's it. 
I swear!"

"That's all?"
"Yes."
"So, then, what was that bullshit with him grabbing my arm?"  She
glowered at me.
"He tried to get me to come to the party stag, and I told him
that I wasn't interested in getting a date here.  Oh, yeah, he
also said something about not understanding why I would want to
date a woman whose arms were bigger than his."
"Bigger than HIS?" she said incredulously.  "His arms are huge."
"I know.  That was what the whole thing was about.  Honest."
A silly misunderstanding.  We kissed and made up, and went back
out to the party.  As I was talking with a few of the women, I
noticed her come up to me and take my hand.  I raised it to my
lips and kissed it.  "Have you all met Lisa, my date?" I asked. 
I was not about to risk any more misunderstandings.  I noticed
her glaring at Ray when he wasn't looking, though.  Something
told me I had just discovered a weakness: Lisa was the jealous
type.

I don't know why.  As far as I was concerned, every other woman
in the room could have just as well disappeared and I wouldn't
have noticed much.  The party dwindled as the night went on, and
before I knew it, there were just eight or so of us sitting
around on the sofa, talking.  Ray and the others were talking
about their latest modeling gigs, and how important it was to
stay in shape, work out regularly and eat right in their
business.  A single pound of excess fat or a pound less muscle
could lose them a job.  Lisa looked bored.

"So, Lisa," Ray said.  "I hear that you're pretty strong."
I felt her tense up slightly.  "Not really," she lied.
"Come on," he prodded.  "You look pretty fit.  Do you work out?"
"Sure, I exercise," she said.  "But it's not my whole life."  She
glared at him.  She squeezed my hand tightly, and I felt some
pain.  I shook my hand a bit, and she let up.  I figured that
there was something else going on here.  "Hey, anybody want to go
out dancing?" I tried to change the subject.  A couple of the
other guests responded enthusiastically, but Ray and Lisa's eyes
were locked.  "Dancing is a great workout," Ray said.  "I don't
know that Lisa would be interested."
"Sure, she would!" I said, feigning enthusiasm.  "Let's go!"
"I could use a good workout about now," Lisa said.
"You're in luck! I have a home gym downstairs," Ray said.  He
wasn't kidding.  He had a complete gym that any health club owner
would envy.  A Universal Machine, Smith Machine, free weights and
a complete set of Nautilus equipment, not to mention the typical
aerobic machines, such as stair climbers, bikes and treadmills.
"I couldn't.  I'm not dressed for it," she said.  "Let's go
dancing instead."  She still had not broken Ray's stare.  
The other guests were shifting uneasily in their seats.  They
were obviously noticing the tension in the air, too.  One of them
laughed uncomfortably.
"I have a clean set of sweats, just about your size, in the guest
room.  Why don't you put them on?" he suggested.
Lisa broke his stare, but I could feel that her hand was still
tense.  "Naaah, I couldn't.  Let's go out," she suggested.
"Aww, c'mon," he said.  "Don't be a bitch."
Lisa looked up, and I saw daggers flash from her eyes.  
"Uh, oh.  You're in trouble now," I said.
"Where's the guest room?" Lisa said, as she stood up.  Ray
pointed it out.  I don't know what sparked that behavior in him. 
I had never seen him act that way, especially not with a woman. 
Ray was a charmer.  Handsome, smooth, and always a ladies' man. 
I liked going out and partying with him because I could count on
a bevy of incredible, horny women flocking to our side whenever
he was around.  The women were always feeling his arms and chest. 
He would flex and they would sigh.  So what exactly was it about
diminutive little Lisa that made him act like a total jerk? 
Whatever it was, I knew that Lisa was about to take him down a
few notches, and it wouldn't be pretty.

I took Ray aside.  "Don't do this," I warned him.  "I don't know
what you're planning, but you've got her pissed off, and you have
no idea how strong she really is."
"I guess I'll find out, huh?" he said.
"Please, for me," I said.  "We're good friends, Ray, and she's my
date.  Please, just apologize to her and let's go out dancing."
"Oh, alright," he said.

Lisa came back into the parlor in a pair of grey sweats, her face
flushed.  "Let's do it," she said tensely.
"Look, Lisa, I apologize profusely if I made you angry," Ray
said.  "Let's forget this and go out dancing, like you
suggested."
The guests on the sofa applauded enthusiastically and voiced
their approval.
"What are you?" Lisa said through clenched teeth.  "A girly man?"
she taunted.  Her Austrian accent was even worse than mine.  "I
pound your weak little body into the ground, you girly man."
"I take your puny little weenie and tie it into a knot!"  
I had no idea where this was coming from, but the situation was
way beyond my control now.  Having been taunted in front of the
whole group, Ray had no option but to go change into his workout
clothes.  A few of the remaining guests groaned that this would
be boring, and left to go dancing.  The rest of us adjourned
downstairs to the gym.  Lisa stretched, while I passed my time on
the stairmaster.  One other guest, an obviously fit woman, began
to jog on the treadmill.  Her name was Andrea, a strikingly
beautiful blonde, thin and toned, with almond shaped blue eyes
and Nordic good looks.  She was obviously one of the models.  The
other two just sat around on the weight benches.

Ray jumped into the room, making an entrance.  "Prepare to meet
your doom, young lady!" He was overacting.  Lisa stood up,
casually walked over to the Universal Machine and put the pin
down to the bottom of the bench press stack.  "I have to warm up
first," she said.  Ray smirked as Lisa lay flat back on the
bench.  She then grabbed the center of the apparatus with her
left hand and cranked out 15 quick reps.  She repeated the
routine with her right hand.  "Okay, I'm ready," she said.  I
heard the other guests murmuring.  Ray's mouth had fallen open.
"Uhhm, let's start with the leg press machine," he said.  Ray
warmed up with about 180 lbs on the machine, and he and Lisa
alternated on the machine.  It became immediately apparent that
there was a contest in progress to determine who could lift more. 
Soon Ray was pressing up some impressive poundages.  They both
had made it all the way up to 990 lbs., but they were using every
weight plate in the gym.  Ray pressed up his 990.  "Well, I guess
that's it," he panted.  "There's no more weight in the gym."
"Sure there is," Lisa said.  "You get on the machine."  Ray
increased Lisa's poundage by climbing on top of the machine and
adding his 200-lb. bodyweight to the total.  She easily pumped
out 20 reps.

"Well, that's easy for you to say, but there's nobody else here
around 200 pounds, so I can't match the weight.  So I guess the
workout's over."  Lisa smiled, and began removing all of the
weight from the machine.  "How about if I just press down on the
machine, and you press up?" she asked sweetly.  Ray declined.
"What's the matter, don't think you can hack it?" she taunted. 
"You don't want to admit that you were outlifted by a *girl*,"
she taunted some more.
"No, you only weigh about a hundred or so pounds.  I'll press you
right off the floor," he answered.
I knew what she was capable of doing.  "Come on, Lisa, that's
enough," I said.  She looked at me harshly.  "Lisa," I said
pleadingly.  Ray was my friend.  She stared at me and I shut my
mouth.  I felt the other guests looking at me.  I looked at
Andrea, the woman on the treadmill, then shrugged and looked
away.  She was smirking.
"You let me worry about that," Lisa said to Ray.  "I'll tell you
what.  If you lift me off the floor, we'll stop and we can go out
dancing."

Ray reluctantly agreed, and I sighed resignedly.  He climbed back
on the machine, and Lisa stood over it, just inside the frame. 
As Ray bent his legs, she wrapped her legs around the bars on the
side and hooked her feet under the lower bar.  She pressed her
palms flat against the platform where his feet were.  I saw when
she began to press on the platform because Ray's knees
immediately buckled.  "Go ahead, press," she said.  His face was
getting red.  "Admit it, you were beaten by a girl," she said. 
He shook his head, and his face got redder.  She pressed down
harder, and his knees were against his chest.  "Admit it, or I
won't let go," she taunted.  Ray's face was the color of a beet,
and I saw a vein popping out on his forehead.  He let out all of
the air in his lungs.  "Okay, okay, I admit it," he said.  
"You admit what?"
"I admit that I was beaten by a girl."
"Now apologize for calling me a bitch."
I rolled my eyes.
"I apologize for calling you a bitch."
"Now tell Andrea that you've had your eye on her all night and
want her to help you recover from this pain."
"Andrea, I've had my eye on you all night and want you to help me
recover from this pain."
Andrea looked up, surprised.
Lisa then let go of the machine and climbed off.  Ray rolled
sideways onto the floor, holding his legs.  Andrea stopped the
treadmill, went to his side and knelt down.  She began to massage
his thighs.  Lisa took my hand.  "Let's go," she said.  "I'll
wash the sweats and bring them back, she called over her
shoulder.  As we walked outside to the car, she turned to me. 
"You're right," she said.  "I had fun."
She gave me a peck on the cheek and squeezed my hand slightly, as
I tried to regain my voice and composure.