Stephanie
By jimlftr@aol.com (Jimlftr)

*   *   *

What I remember most about college was the incredible diversity of people 
all over the campus.  My main goal when I got there was to meet new people, 
but also to be my own person.  Everything before that was, well, awkward to 
say the least.  I had been a tad overweight, and not very much into social 
activities.  When I got to college I realized this was mostly my fault, and 
wanted to make an effort to change.  The first thing to do was something 
about being out of shape.
You know what I loved about college?  Everything you needed to improve 
yourself was right there.  Do you like to play golf.  There's an 18 hole 
course with discounted greens fees for students.  What about movies?  Free 
ones every Thursday night.  But the best, for me, was the gym.  Absolutely 
state of the art.  Free weights and good Universal equipment too.  The only 
thing was, I sure looked out of place at first.  I had no idea how to use 
any of the stuff.  I actually went to the library to see if there were any 
good weightlifting books.  Nothing.  I ended up just keeping my eyes open 
and watching how it worked.  Most of the people there were pretty helpful.  
One guy did me a favor by showing me what the best techniques were for the 
lat machine, and someone else showed the best ways to do rows, and so 
forth.  After two months of watching my diet and working out four times a 
week, I really felt I had made a change in my life.  From a stock 190 
pounds (at 5'10)  I was down to about 170, and had even put some size and 
definition on.  I felt I was definitely on my way by about November.  I 
guess it's true what they say, exercising really does help your self 
esteem.  I had been on very few dates in high school, but found myself more 
willing to ask out women I met on campus.
But you know what?  Part of not asking people out was that I rarely saw the 
type of woman who really turned me on.  I'd always gone for the athletic 
types, and in my small high school, there weren't many like that.  Perhaps 
it was the fact that I was so out of shape myself, I idealized fitness in 
other women.  There was one girl I knew who was on the track team, and 
something about her just drove me wild.  But at the time, what could I do 
about it.  Deep down, I knew what I really wanted - to go out with someone 
really into fitness, weightlifting, the whole deal.  But who knew where 
those women were anyway.
But I digress.  It getting close to the holidays and things were beginning 
to wind down on campus.  I had a few tests to take before I headed home, 
but nothing serious.  I was nervous about one of them though.  A stupid 
statistics test.  I decided to go to the gym a little early to work off 
some steam.  The weight room opened up early, around 5:30 to accommodate 
the swimmers who used the pool, so I figured I'd go around 6:00 or so.
I had thought the gym would be pretty empty at that hour, but those of you 
who work out know that I was wrong in that regard.  Apparently all the 
serious weightlifters are insomniacs and have this thing about being at the 
gym early.  I thought I had walked into a testosterone factory or 
something.  Now, I had been working out for a while, but I was no match for 
these people.  I felt out of place, to say the least, as I headed over to 
do a few bent over rows.
My one saving grace was the girl who came in about five minutes after I 
did.  She was about 5'2 or so with sandy blond hair that went down to about 
her shoulder.  She was wearing this white sweatshirt with black leggings 
and white sneakers.  Very attractive, but what caught me most was her eyes.  
They were this greenish grey color, and kind of smoky.  Thank God there was 
another novice in here, I thought, stealing a glance at her.
That was when she took of her sweatshirt, and I swear, I almost passed out.  
Underneath the sweats, this girl had one of the most fit body I had ever 
seen.  She was nothing if not the definition of firm.
If any of you out there are attracted to women who lift, then you probably 
know how hard it is for many of them to build up muscle.  In fact, when 
they're not lifting, the "pump," as some call it, tends to be somewhat 
sublimated.  But it was obvious that this girl was used to lifting.  It 
wasn't that she was overtly muscled, at least not yet.  She just had the 
proportions of someone who seriously lifted.  Upper arms that were thicker 
than you're used to seeing on most women.  Shoulders that were more than 
just firm.  You know the picture.
By this time I had moved to do some lat pull downs, but was still keeping 
an eye on the girl.  Yeah I know, you little stalker you.  But it was hard 
to keep my eyes off her as she did some warm up stretches.  I thought to 
myself that I would do anything to speak to her.  Which of course, was why 
I totally clamed up when she headed over to my machine.  I was just 
finishing a set.
"Mind if I work in?" I heard from behind me.
"Sure," I said, trying to get that one word out.
The girl proceeded to knock my socks off.  I had the machine set to 70 
pounds and was struggling for the last set.  She took the pin out, casually 
set it to 90 pounds and belted out 10 reps.  I have to tell you, it was the 
most amazing thing I had seen in that gym.  Just to see someone of her size 
who was obviously stronger than I was...  well, it was amazing.
I worked in for one more set of 8 at 70, but by her third set she was up to 
110 pound.  "Mind spotting me?" she asked.
"No problem," I said, then somewhat shame facedly, "But I've never spotted 
anyone on this before.
"Don't worry about it, just put your hands around my elbows when I have 
them out and make sure I keep the form right."
I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  This woman wanted me to spot her 
while she lifted?  Who did I have to pay off?  Apparently no one, I 
thought, as she finished up the last set.
"Thanks," she said, and walked off.
Boy, I thought I blew it.  My one chance to talk to the woman of my dreams 
and I blew it.  As I left the weight room, I saw she was doing bicep curls, 
and I'm here to say, she had biceps like you wouldn't believe.  Remember 
how I said you sometimes can't see the pump when women aren't working out?  
Well, now you could.  Every time she brought the bar up, her biceps just 
seemed to explode off her arms.  You could see the veins in her forearms 
straining with the weight.  It was one of the most incredible things I had 
ever seen.
Thank God for cold showers, I thought, as I got dressed afterwards.  
Silently I cursed myself for not doing anything.  You would think the last 
three months hadn't happened.  I was almost lost in thought as I finished 
dressing and prepared to leave.  About a half hour had passed.
Right near the weight room are a few rooms people use for aerobics, yoga 
and the like.  As I passed the weight room and headed past the aerobics 
roomed I saw one of the lights was on and some loud music was coming from 
it.  I looked in.
It was her, and it was amazing.  Apparently this girl was seriously into 
bodybuilding because she was doing what for all the world looked like a 
posing routine.  Hitting poses and doing a number in front of the mirror.  
And this body!  She was wearing a black bikini, and I stared in awe at her.  
She had these abs that were more than flat.  They were so defined you could 
see the different muscle plates.  Her thighs had these deep striations that 
ran the length of her leg.  her calves were cut into these double diamond 
shapes, and just flared off her legs.  From outside the door, I watched her 
hit a double bicep shot and I couldn't help wondering how it was possible 
for someone of her size to have biceps that peaked that sharply off her 
arms.
At that moment the music stopped, and I had what could politely be called a 
revelation.  If I didn't do something now, I never would, and I couldn't 
not know who this woman was.  I walked in.
She was just finishing unplugging the stereo as I came in, and she turned 
towards me.
"Oh hi!" she said smiling.  "Did you need the room.
Gamely I tried to push the words out, but nothing came.  She had put the 
leggings back on, but her top was (thank the gods) bare except for her 
bikini top.
"Well, it's all yours, I'm finished," she said brightly as she headed 
towards the door.
Without even thinking about it, I reached forward and grabbed her arm.  I 
swear, I don't know what possessed me to do it.  But just feeling her arm 
stopped me cold.  For starters it was so firm.  I had reached for her 
forearm actually, but she was moving at the time, and I had grabbed her 
upper arm.  My hand had fallen squarely on her bicep.  I'm telling you, 
there's nothing like it.  She reacted instinctively, as any women would to 
become touched unexpectedly, and as her bicep flexed under my hand, it felt 
like my palm was resting on a golf ball.  It was that hard.
"What?" She said, annoyed.
In a stumbling mess, it came out.  "I'm sorry, I just, well..."
"What do you want?"  I had taken my hand away.
"Well, I, um, saw you posing in here, and, well, I couldn't leave without 
knowing what your name is."  She looked at me like I was crazy.  "You're 
the most amazing woman I've ever seen in my life."
With that, thankfully, her eyes softened a little, and she smiled.  "It's 
Stephanie."
Could I possibly be this lucky?  I frankly couldn't believe she hadn't laid 
me out for grabbing her, and it looked like she could do it.
"Stephanie, it's very good to meet you," I said, the words coming a little 
bit easier.  "And to be honest with you, if I hadn't tried to talk to 
someone as beautiful as you, I would regret it for the rest of my life."
They say the truth works wonders, and I'm glad that's true.  She blushed 
slightly.  "A lot of guys don't think so," she said.
"Are you training for a competition?" I asked, trying to change the 
subject.
"Actually yes," she said,  "I'm in the lightweight division in three weeks 
at the state meet."
"If you don't win, the judges are on the take." I said.
She laughed.  "You're sweet," she said.  "So," she added,  "You like girls 
with muscles, do you?"
How to answer that one?  "Well," I replied, "I like you a lot."
"You hardly know me."
"How about giving me a chance to get to know you?"
She paused, as if thinking about it.  Then, "All right," she said.  "How 
about heading over to the commons for a quick breakfast?
"Anything you want," I said, and at that moment I would have done just 
about anything she asked.
"Come on, let's go," she said, putting on her sweats.
"Wait, I was wondering if I could ask you something."  Was I really about 
to ask this?  Christ, I was going to ruin it!
"What?"
"Could I, well, OK  here it is," I said, "I've never seen a woman with arms 
like yours before, and just now, well, you're really well, um, developed, 
you know, in your arms."
"Thanks," she said, "I work hard on them."
"I was um, wondering, if I could, kind of..."
"Touch them?" she said with a mischievous grin.
Now it was my turn to blush.  "Um, yeah,"
"Later," she said.  "Come on, let's go."


A half hour later, I found myself waiting for Stephanie in the commons.  
Frankly, I had my doubts about whether or not she was even going to show up  
She said she had to change into some warmer clothes, and I couldn't stick 
around for a long time.  That stat final was in about an hour.  I mean, 
face it, thirty minutes ago I was standing there like an idiot, asking her 
if I could touch her bicep, and here I was expecting it to just be part of 
any normal conversation.  Hi, you're cute, can I touch your muscles?  
Doesn't really work does it?  So, I pulled out a few textbooks and expected 
the worst.
"There you are," I heard from behind.  "I had a hard time finding you with 
your head in a book."
I looked up, and much to my surprise, there she was.  She had changed into 
a pair of bulky jeans and a dark blue sweat shirt with the college logo on 
the front.  Her hair was down this time, not tied back in a pony tail when 
she was working out.  You know, just seeing her here, you would never know 
from looking at her that underneath that sweatshirt were the most muscular 
arms I had ever seen on a girl 5'2" tall, arms that apparently had no 
problem doing lat pull downs with 110 pounds, and preacher curls at what 
looked from across the gym like around, well let me add it up...  a 25, a 
10, and a 5 pound on each side, 15 for the bar...  95 pounds!
"Hi!" I said, smiling.  "I'm really glad you came by."
"After that introduction, how could I not?" she said with a mischievous 
grin, sitting down across from me at the table.  "You have a test soon?"
"In about an hour," I said.  "Stat 31.  Not my best subject."
"What's your major?" she said.
"Well, right now it's English, but I'm never sure.  Next semester it could 
be Russian Orthodoxy."
She laughed.  Always a good sign.  "Mine's psychology.  Or will be, I still 
have a semester to decide."
It turns out she was also a freshman.  She came from a small town in the 
panhandle.  I wanted to know everything, and said so.
"In an hour?"
"Well, as much as I can, you seem, well, amazing."
She smiled, and once again, I thanked whatever gods there were for the luck 
that brought me to the gym this particular morning.  I couldn't help 
thinking that it seemed a lot easier to talk to this girl when I wasn't 
staring at her biceps.  But nonetheless, I was still struggling to think of 
something to say.
"So," I managed to spit out.  "Do you always work out that early?"
"Yeah, it cuts down on the insults."
"The insults?"
"Well, the jibes and things from guys who feel sort of intimidated by me."
"Now why would any guy be intimidated by you?" I said with a grin.
"Aren't you?" she said with a small laugh.
"Well..."
"Come on, she said," laying it on.  "You mean you feel perfectly fine 
working out next to me?"
"You're messing with me aren't you?" I said.
"A little," she said, chuckling.  "But you have to admit, you're a lot more 
comfortable sitting here with me in my sweats than before, aren't you?"
"Well, a little," I said.
"I mean, people would stare if I was sitting here like this..." she said, 
and stood up.
"Like what?" I said.
"Like this."  Suddenly she pulled her sweatshirt up over head, tossed it 
over the chair and sat back down.  Now she was sitting down, but instead of 
the girl in the heavy sweats was a girl in a skin tight tank top who had 
obviously been pumping up.  I was glad I was sitting down, behind the 
shelter of a bench seat.  She was hard as a rock.  In the dim light of the 
commons, her shoulders looked like granite.  When she propped her arms up 
on her elbows, her biceps stood out in sharp relief.  The veins in her 
forearms were like little cables.
At seven in the morning on the Wednesday before a holiday, there aren't a 
lot of people eating breakfast in the commons, and to be honest I guess I 
was a little relieved.  Admit it, it's a little intimidating to be sitting 
in public with a woman who's obviously more muscular than you.
"Imagine how many people would be staring if we weren't in this corner," 
she said, and dropped one eye in a wink.
"Stephanie, that's amazing," was all I could blurt out.
"Thank you," she said and slipped her sweatshirt back on again.  I could 
feel the blood returning to my brain again.  I work hard at it.
"Tell me you're not seeing anyone right now."
"Now why would I be sitting here having breakfast with you if I was seeing 
someone right now?" she said.
"Well, all right then," I said.
"Actually, I just broke up with someone."
"Really," I said, not quite believing my luck.
"A long story," she said.
"Can I ask you a question?"  I said.
"Sure."
"Did it have anything to do with your, uh, working out?"
"You mean my bodybuilding?"
"Well, yes"
"It's kind of a long story."
"Can you tell me on the way to my final?"  Way to go, Jim, way to keep your 
eye on the ball, you idiot.
"Sure, I'll give it a shot.  After all, the math wing is all the way across 
campus." she said, getting up.
And with that we headed out.  Thankfully, I could still walk straight.


If you walk at a leisurely pace, it takes about 20 minutes to walk from the 
commons to the math wing.  But the last thing on my mind was my upcoming 
stat final.  I was walking with, I think, the most beautiful girl I have 
ever seen.  If you saw her on campus, you would be struck by, first off, 
her amazing figure.  After that, you would see her smoky grey green eyes 
and chances are you would be smitten, and I don't use that word lightly.  
So far, talking to her, I was struck by how easy she was to talk to, but I 
have to admit, the reason I was walking with her now was because an hour 
ago in the gym, I had seen her working out, and I'm here to say, I have 
never seen a girl like her with the kind of muscles she has.  I mean, if 
you're turned on by a woman who can curl 100 pounds a set, then you know 
what I mean.
"So, you just broke up with someone," I said.
"Yeah," she said.  "it wasn't a very good break-up."
Wondering why anyone would even consider breaking up with this vision, I 
pressed on, but sensitively.  Hey, I'm nothing if not...  well, maybe not.
"You said it was because of your lifting?"
"Kind of, yeah," she said, a cloud seeming to cross her eyes.  "Some guys 
are so intimidated by a girl with muscles.  Like it matters that can bench 
175 pounds."
I let it go, but inside I was doing the math.  This girl was a few inches 
over five feet tall, looked like she was 110 pounds at best, and here was 
telling me she could bench press more than one and a half times her body 
weight?
"And it's not like I  didn't even get started into lifting because of him 
anyway."
"Um-hm" I said.  I mean what do you say to that.
"We went out together in high school," she said.  "I did a few things on 
track, like the 100 meter or the long jump.  Not a lot of lifting involved, 
except for keeping my legs strong and my diet right."
"Right," I said, although I wouldn't know a track routine from a dance 
routine.
"Anyway, Chip was encouraging me to work out my upper body.  He was on the 
football team, first string, and I guess he wanted a girlfriend with bigger 
breast or something, and he kept on pressing me to do more butterflies or 
presses."
"So you started lifting," I said.
"Yeah, in my senior year.  But I don't think he expected me to get into it 
like I did."
"Hmm."
"I started going to the gym four and five times a week, really hitting the 
weights you know.  Sometimes I would go even if he wasn't going.  He'd be 
off with his buddies, sneaking a few beers, and I would be working out.  I 
started getting, well, bigger on top."
"More mass."
"Yeah," she said with a wry grin.  Once again, I found it impossible to 
believe the girl under these sweats and baggy jeans was, what's the word 
lifters use - shredded.
"Anyway, he started to complain.  Especially over this summer, when we went 
to the beach.  Said he didn't like it that all the guys were staring at me 
with these muscles and all.  Kind of like you were this morning, but not 
admiring like."
What do you say to that, anyway?
"Then this fall, that was the final straw."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, this is a little sensitive."
"Oh, you, uh, don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
"I know, but, something about me wants to.  I've never told anyone this 
before, and well, I hope you don't mind being the 'right place at the right 
time' guy.'
"Only if it's for the purposes of this story." I said with a smile.
"You're sweet," she said, and gave me a quick peck on the cheek.  I felt I 
could drift off to heaven right now and not feel like I missed anything.
"What happened?" I said.
"Well, I had just come back from a workout.  And it was a great workout.  I 
was really feeling the burn.  I've been getting stronger now for about a 
year, and I guess I've always been kind of naturally strong, but this was 
intense."
"How do you mean?"
"I was doing just a great upper body workout.  One of the guys there had 
been really pushing me, in a good way, I mean, and while I was getting some 
water before I hit the bench press, he put these two 45 pounders on each 
side of the bar, waiting for me when I got back."
"180 pounds?" I said incredulously.
'Actually, with the bar it was 220, she said.  "Surprised?"
"Well, to be honest, yes."
"Me too.  I told him there was no way I could life that much, but he said 
give it a try, so I did."
"And?" I said.
"Well, I guess I don't know my own strength," she said with a laugh.  "It 
was hard, but I did three reps with it!"
"Wow.  I wish I was there to see that," I said.
"Anyway, I had never felt a burn like that before.  I was so psyched I 
wanted to try other exercises, and I just cut loose.  I haven't matched it 
again."
"Really?"
"Oh yeah, but I was lifting like I was possessed."
At that moment, I can tell, I felt kind of possessed myself.
"So after the workout, I can't really describe it, I just felt...  well, 
really hot," she said, rather shyly.
"Hot?" I said.
"You know...  like, sexually."
I could not let this woman go.
"So what happened?"
I jogged over to Chip's dorm.  Ran really.  "I'll never forget it.  I burst 
into to his room, startled the hell out of him.  'Jesus Stephanie!' he 
said, 'what's with you?'  I hadn't even realized what I looked like.  I 
caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.  I was all sweaty and pumped up.  
I hadn't even put on more clothes after I left the gym.  I looked kind of 
wide-eyed I guess.  Anyway, I don't know what came over me.  I grabbed him 
and just threw on the bed, and started making out."
I managed a feeble gurgle, but thankfully, she didn't notice.
"Anyway, he was struggling to get me to stop, and I remember saying 
something like 'What's the matter, can't handle me?"  And gave him like a 
little punch in the side, but I guess I didn't realize how hard I could 
hit, because I totally took the wind out of him.  That's when I kind of 
calmed down."
"God, what happened then."
"Well then he got his breath back and got mad.  He managed to wriggle out 
from under me and tried to push me away.  Well you know, hell hath no fury 
like a woman scorned, and I took it the wrong way.  I pushed him down, 
hard, but with his free hand, he pulled my hair back and yanked me off.  
Said something like he wished he'd never met me, or at least hadn't gotten 
me into lifting.  Said it was embarrassing.  I told him if he couldn't 
handle my lifting then I didn't need him.  He said he would decide when it 
was over and I told him to keep dreaming.  Then he did something he would 
regret."
'What?"
"He actually tried to throw a punch at me.  God, I do a hundred crunches a 
day and, well, you've seen my abs."
I had.  They're nothing to mess with.
"I caught his hand after he threw a punch, and the I knew I had him.  He 
looked scared, and I said 'That's a good feeling to have,' let go of his 
hand, picked him up by his waist and threw him across a chair.  Then I 
left, and I haven't seen him since."
We were just getting to the math wing, and stopped by one of those stone 
benches you see a lot of on college campuses.  It had been about ten 
minutes.
"Stephanie, that's an incredible story."
"It doesn't turn you off?" she said.
'Well, to be honest, I'd be a little more, well, mindful of your strength 
if I was going out with you, but no, it doesn't turn me off."
I looked at her.  She looked at me.  I wondered what she was thinking.  You 
probably know what I was thinking.  I had to say something.
"You're really that strong?" I said.
She inched up next to me.  "By now," she whispered in my ear, "I'm stronger 
than that."  And with that she put her hands on waist, and literally 
scooped me up, in kind of an arc.  In a moment I found myself standing on 
top of the bench, looking down at her.  My mouth dropped open.
"Hold on, I'm coming up," she said, and jumped up.  She took hold of my 
waist again and lowered me back to the ground.
Now I was looking up at her.
"Now do me." she said.
I'm no slouch, but picking up 110 pounds of girl is still work.  I managed 
to get her though, but she helped by jumping back down.  Now with both of 
us standing on the ground, I looked at her in amazement.
"Come by my room after the test, "she said.  "I'll show you something."


I have never breezed through a midterm this quickly in my life.  Frankly, I 
didn't know how many answers I got right, and how many I got wrong.  How 
much of this is contributed to my morning with Stephanie?  Well, probably a 
lot, but I kind of think I was destined to do very badly in statistics 
anyway, and at least today, I had something else to look forward to.
I headed over to the dorms immediately afterward.  Stephanie said she lived 
on the 6th floor over at Newcastle, and I effectively double timed it over 
there.  On the elevator up to her floor, I had a few seconds to ponder.  
Who would believe that in just three short hours, I would have met what 
could very well be the woman of my dreams.  And I don't normally think 
things through that much.  This first semester of college had been 
fantastic so far.  I had made a lot of good friends, and I was very 
satisfied with the ways my life had changed since just last July.  But 
something was missing.  I hadn't really even been out on a date with this 
Stephanie yet, but something was terribly exciting about this woman.  I 
didn't want to mess it up.
She said she lived in 619.  It was the last one at the end of the hall.  
Nervously, I knocked on the door.  "Come on in," I heard from inside.  Only 
three hours and I would know her voice anywhere.  I went in.
The sweats were off again.  That was the first thing.  It was the tank top 
again, but the jeans were gone, in favor of a pair of those Umbro shorts 
that were so popular a few years back.  You know the kind.  Soccer players 
wear them.  I thought I wouldn't be surprised by much by now, but since I 
had just seen her working out not a few hours ago, why would I have 
expected to see her curling a 45 pound weight next to her desk in her dorm 
room?  But there it was.
"How was the test?" she said between breaths.
"Um, great.  Didn't get a good enough workout before, hm?"
"I said I had something to show you.  Come here."
Nervously I went over to her.
"You want to feel?" she said huskily.
Well what do you think, oh faithful reader?  Of course I did.  just the 
sight of her right bicep expanding and contracting under the pressure of 
that weight was making me a little dizzy.  I made a show of trying to make 
a manly chuckle.  I'm sure she saw right through it.
"H-ha, sure."
"Go right ahead," she said, winking at me, continuing to work her arm.
She was sitting down, and well, there wasn't another chair handy.
"What, are you worried about getting your jeans dirty?" she said.
"Well no, just the practical implications of getting on my knees to touch 
your bicep actually."
She laughed at that.  "Oh, come on," she said, and with her free left hand 
grabbed my elbow and pulled me down.  God, she really was strong.  In a 
second, I found myself pulled down to the floor, now looking up at her as 
she continued curling.  She must have done more than thirty of them 
already, but didn't show any sign of stopping.  I put my index finger on 
her bicep just as it was flexing.  Honestly, it is just an incredible 
feeling.  At one moment there's this arm, firm and all, but in about two 
seconds, this lump has formed beneath you, and all of the sudden, there's 
this, well, bicep.  And her biceps were just incredible.  You could feel 
the muscle underneath the skin, almost pulsing with the flex.  I put my 
palm on her bicep next, and felt it expand and contract under me.  She did 
it a few more times, and then said, "last one, ready?" and did a slow curl 
up to her face, and back down again.
What can I say?  It was quite a feeling.
"I did 45 so I could go at it for a while," she said.
"Don't tell me that's a light weight for you," I answered, getting up and 
sitting on the bed."
"Actually, yes," she replied.  I'm always having to get new weights.
"You keep weights here in your room?"
"Just for something to do with nervous energy, you know."
Frankly, I didn't.  I work out four times a week, and that's enough.  I 
hike on the weekends, and had recently started swimming laps, but when I'm 
not working out, I'm not working out.  I guess that's what made Stephanie 
different.
"And besides, I get a better flex from doing more reps," she said flexing 
the arm she just finished working out.  Again, it just jumped off her arm.  
I was speechless."
"You like?" she said coyly.
"Yeah, I was just thinking woe be it to the guy who arm wrestles you."
She laughed.  "You want to try it?"
I was just joking, but was wondering where it would lead.  She didn't 
actually want to do it, did she?
"What's the matter, worried I might beat you?" she said.
"I think you could probably beat me," I said, "I mean, I could barely lift 
what you do regularly."
She looked disappointed, and to tell the truth, I did want to try it.
"But I'd love to try it," I added.
"Great! Come on!" she said, clearing her stuff off the desk.
In a few seconds we had locked arms.  "OK  Jim, I want you to really try," 
she said.
I was too busy concentrating on breathing in and out to really give a 
decent answer.
"On three?"
"You got it."
"All right one, two, and three!"
Look, I really did try, even though I knew this was a fool's errand.  I 
pushed like the devil, but I couldn't move her arm an inch.  She had it 
locked in place on the desk, and I could tell she wasn't even trying to 
move it in her direction.  She was just keeping it stock still, so there 
wasn't even any opposing energy to work with.  Slowly she started pushing 
down.   "You can use both hands for this part if you want," she said 
smiling.
I was pushing with all my might, and it really didn't look like she was 
flexing much, and I said so.
"Well, to tell you the truth, this is pretty easy.  I can flex if you 
want," she said, and in a moment her bicep leaped to life, then back down 
as she relaxed.  "Come on, use both hands, you might last a few seconds 
longer."
I gave in and added my left hand, wrapping it over hers.  The fact that I 
was able to stop her for a few seconds wasn't that much of a relief.  Here 
I was, with both hands pushing left, but I was steadily being pushed right.  
In a second she had me pinned.
"Pretty strong, right?" she said with a laugh.
"Amazing," I said.  "And you weren't even trying.
"Would you like to see me try?"
Not sure what exactly she meant, we locked hands a second time.
"One, two, three!" she said.
Once again I couldn't  budge her arm and inch.  And then she pushed her 
hand down do hard it was hard to believe my arm was providing any 
resistance at all, which I guess it wasn't.  The rap against the wood was 
sharp against my knuckles.
"Wow." was all I could spit out.
"Can I ask you something?" she said hesitantly.
"Sure, I said, "Anything."
"Well, I was just hoping I didn't you know, turn you off by being so 
strong.  I mean, it's not that I don't like being strong," she said, 
brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes.  "I do, but, well I've never done 
this, you know, arm wrestling, with anyone, and I don't want to turn you 
off."
"Stephanie," I said, and paused for a second.
There is a serious question here I had to answer, and I frankly wasn't in 
the best position to answer it.  It had been, in fact, quite a morning.  
But part of me kept going back to this morning in the commons.  The part 
where she slipped off her sweatshirt right there in public, displaying that 
powerful upper body.  I loved it, but face it, there is an "attitude" 
towards women like Stephanie.  People look at them kind of funny.  I for 
one wasn't one of them, at least if you mean funny in a bad way, but if you 
think about yourself, you'll finish your fantasy with a realistic thought: 
what do you do when you leave the privacy of your own home?
But at that point I had a revelation.  If anyone has problems with someone 
like this girl.  Someone who, so far, has proven to be smart, funny, and 
well, damn good looking too, then that's their own insecurities.
"Stephanie," I said.  "If I don't get the opportunity to know more about 
you, I think I've wasted more than just this morning."
There was actually a tear in her eye.  "That's wonderful of you," she said, 
giving me a quick kiss, then getting up to put on a T-shirt.
Whew, I thought, thank god for crisis of confidence, I thought.  I knew I 
had made the right decision.


All I could think about during the break was her.  It was the longest week 
of my life.  And I thought the drive back to school would take forever.  
Everyone at home could tell that I looked different than this summer, but I 
really paid it no mind.  You see, the way I felt about Stephanie also 
applied to me, and I realized that getting to know her meant getting to 
know me too.  Getting over past feelings on inadequacy had been the big 
test the last semester, and I felt a lot better about life in general.
The next several weeks were spent in a virtual paradise with Stephanie.  As 
it happened she became my training partner, and getting up early wasn't a 
chore any longer.  It's amazing what a strong partner will do for your 
resolve.  I knew it would be a long time before I was even close to as 
strong as her, but the woman was a real inspiration.  Just watching her 
pound out dumbbell rows with 80 pounds at a stretch, or a tricep push down 
at 110 pounds was a sight to behold.  And afterwards, well, there was 
nothing like giving this woman a massage.  Kneading those back muscles was 
like running your hands through rocks.
One day I was giving her a massage, and was trying to get to a sore spot 
near her shoulder.  I wasn't quite getting it.
"Oh come on, press harder, she said.  I kneaded a little more with my 
knuckles, but it wasn't enough.
"Like this," she said, getting up.  With that she put her hand on my chest 
and pushed backwards, while at the same time putting her other hand on my 
upper back pushing forward.  In an instant I was on my stomach, her above 
me.  A second later her palm was wrapped over my shoulder and she was 
really rubbing it in.
"God, Stephanie, you're going to dislocate my shoulder."
"Sorry, I guess I don't know my own strength."
"Oh, bull, yes you do," I said, and turned around.  She had taken her towel 
off, and was crouched over me, like a lioness, completely naked.  It was 
more than a sight.  It was a vision.  She was still pumped from her lower 
body workout, with her thighs looking as muscular as I had ever seen them   
Further back, I could make out the twin diamonds of her calves, and closer 
to me, her abs and her firm breasts and pecs.  She had the look of the hunt 
in her eyes.
"Stephanie, I want you, please," I said.
"Darling, that's just what I wanted to hear," she said breathlessly, and 
came down on me.
Now, I'll say right up front that I don't know what making love to other 
women who lifted is like, but this was an experience to put down in the 
books.  I swear, I could use terms like you might find in the Bible to 
describe it.
She was breathing heavily as I started kissing her.  First the lips.  Then 
a quick move down her neck, and then her shoulders, all the while running 
my hand across the nape of her neck.  She arched upward when I ran a series 
of kisses down between her breasts and down her chest.  When I reached her 
abs, she reached down, grabbed me and pulled me up to her.
"I have a question," she asked.  From my experience, this is somewhat 
typical.  There are always questions.
"Anything," I panted.
"Just this," she said.  "Do you want me to be...  strong?"
"Honey, nothing would please me more," I said.
And with that she wrapped her arms around me.  I have never felt anything 
like it.  We tumbled to the floor.  I was helpless under her grip.  She got 
to her knees and pulled me up.  Then back up to the bed, with her on top 
again.  She took my left hand in her right, and right in left, and pinned 
me to the bed.
"Come on," she said, "try to get loose."
I'll say this.  I did try.  But the pressure was just too much.  She was 
driving me crazy.  But every time I struggled, she seemed to get even more 
excited.  I've heard of talk during sex, but this was unique.
"Who's stronger?" she would say.  "Come on, tell me!"
"You are Stephanie.  You are!"
It would push her even farther along.  She was more than like an animal.  
When she came down on me again and again, I thought I would pass out, but 
she kept on bringing my face up to hers and kissing her just made me 
insane.
I have no idea how long it lasted, but I know it was light when we started, 
and not when we finished.  We lay next to each other for a long time.
"You know," she finally said, "You're the first one who's really indulged 
me like that.  I hope you liked it."
"Liked it? Honey, I loved it," I said giving her upper arm a squeeze.
"I was thinking of doing that arch thing in the competition next week."
"The competition?"
"You know, the state contest, silly."
'Really?"
"Well, I'll tone it down a little.  Save the best for here," she said with 
a smile.
All I know is, I can't wait to see what she's got planned for that contest.


"Can I ask you a question?" I said.
It was March, and we had been dating for a few months now.  Stephanie would 
be competing in a state bodybuilding show in just a few days, and was even 
more ripped than usual, thanks to her diet and some intense training.  She 
was muscular before, but this was even more amazing than before.  She had 
cut her body fat percentage to around six percent, and she was absolutely 
shredded.  But despite our utter judgement, she didn't want to let up on 
the heavy weights.
If you've ever tried to train for a bodybuilding competition, you know that 
when you get into body sculpting, you let up on some of the heavier 
weights, so everything stays in proportion.  It's a fact of life, different 
people are able to put on mass in different places.  But the judges, well, 
they want to see a nice even picture.  In Stephanie's case, she had amazing 
upper body strength for a woman her size, about 5'2 and anywhere between 
110 and 120 pounds.  And when she cut down her body fat, she was just 
incredibly muscular above the waist.  Not that her lower body wasn't 
attractive.  But it was more of a track star's build.  You know, leaner.  
For now, the best thing to do would be cut back a little on the upper body 
weights so her upper and lower body would be in proportion.  But this was 
nonnegotiable.  Stephanie would habitually work her delts and lats with 
weights hovering around 140 pounds, do tricep pushdowns with at least 90, 
and bench 160 to start.  And it showed.
We were out for dinner and a movie one night, and she looked just 
astounding.  She was wearing a black skirt with one of those sleeveless 
mock turtleneck tops.  Her arms were in full display, and this close to 
contest time, they were huge.  I've seen people bragging about 16 and even 
17 inch arms, so you might not be impressed with Stephanie's 14 and a half 
arms.  I'm telling you, on her frame, it was incredible.  Her arms 
literally bulged with the muscle, and the striations in her forearms were 
clear.  The top rode a little high, so you could see her abs around her 
midriff level.  She had managed to put some muscle on her thighs, and when 
she sat down you could see how her quads had gotten bigger.  All night, 
everyone was gawking.  I had put on some good size in the past six months 
or so, and we looked like a regular couple who happened to lift together, 
but I knew I was no match for Stephanie's strength.  We were walking near 
the quad.
"Sure," she said.  "You can ask me anything."
"Let me ask you this.  How important is it for you to be strong?
She looked at me.  "What do you mean?"
"Well," I said.  "You've got this contest coming up, and if you laid back a 
little on the heavy weights, your upper body would be more in synch with 
your lower body, but you seem to not really want to give up the heavier 
lifting."
'Don't you like it that I'm strong?" she said.
"You know that's not it," I answered.
"Well," she said defensively,  "I love being this strong.  I can do so much 
more than almost any other girl here on campus.  Or," she said 
thoughtfully, "any other guy."
That was true.  I've mentioned that she was aggressive, probably one of the 
most aggressive women I had ever met.  The pre-contest regimen had 
accentuated it.
Stephanie had a part time job at one of the on-campus restaurants.  As 
spring got closer, she had taken to wearing sleeveless tops to work.  The 
guys never stopped giving her hell about her muscles, but it rolled right 
off her, usually.  One night she was working some tables, and heard some 
laughter off to her side.  She turned around and saw four guys at the 
table.
"Something wrong?" she said.
One of the guys spoke up.  "Brad here said you may look like a guy, but you 
still can't be a guy."  Two of the others laughed uproariously at this.  
The one I'm guessing was Brad was curiously silent.
"Tell Brad when he wants to put his money where his mouth is, I'm here."
Well, they couldn't just let that go, of course.  They were egging Brad on, 
until he finally got mad, got up, and called her back to the table.
"What'll it be?" she asked.
"You," Brad said.  "You think you're pretty tough, don't you?"
"Well, you think I am, or you wouldn't have dragged me over here," she 
said.
"Tell you what," he said.  "You want a tip from us, you beat me at arm 
wrestling," Brad said, rolling up his sleeve.  He looked pretty big.
"It better be a good tip," Stephanie said, sitting down.  The guys laughed 
again.  By now a crowd had gathered as they locked hands.
"On three?" Stephanie said.
"You got it."
Another waitress counted them down.  On three, Brad pushed, and had her 
back, about a quarter of the way down.  Then Stephanie really started 
pushing.  You could see Brad's eyes kind of bug out a little.  He had seen 
her arms, and while they were in good proportion to her frame, I'm sure he 
didn't think this would be a challenge.
By now, Stephanie had him back up to the middle, and was going for home.
"Cynthia," she called out.
"Yeah Steph."
"Pick a number between one and five."
"How about four."
"You got it, count me down."
And when the other waitress reached four, Stephanie slammed his fist down 
on the table so hard, it looked like he wasn't even opposing her.  She told 
me later she had been playing with him the whole time.
But now, walking home, it was kind of different.
"I love being this strong," she was saying.  "Look what I can do," she 
added, grabbing the end of a nearby picnic table and lifting it up.
"I know Stephanie, it's terrific, but..."
"I can even lift you," she said, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me 
up.  "Come on, try to wriggle free."
She knew I couldn't.  "Come on Stephanie, put me down."
"Say 'please put me down' or I won't."
"Come on Steph.  I..."
"Say it!" she said.
This was getting...  well, different.  This was a side of her I hadn't 
really seen before.  I'd be lying if I said I part of me didn't like it.
"All right Steph, please put me down."
"I don't think you mean it," she said, but put me down.  A split second 
later, she had put one hand across my back, the other beneath my waist and 
scooped me up like a bag of groceries.  I found myself in her arms.  She 
started walking.
"Jesus Steph, where are we going?"
"My room," was all she would say.
She actually carried me all the way back to her dorm room.
"How do you like it, being carried by me," she said sweetly.
"God Steph, I knew you were strong, but you're not even getting tired."
"It takes a lot more than 175 pounds of you to get me tired," she said with 
a laugh.
A few minutes later we were in her room.  She dropped me on the bed, and 
sat beside me.
"I'm going to show you just how strong I am," she said huskily.  "Kiss me," 
she said.
I reached over to her, but she stopped me.
"Not there," she said, pulling up her shirt a little.  "Here," she said, 
running the back of her hand over her abs.  I bent over, but before I could 
move she had grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down between her legs.  I 
was staring up at her.
"I mean it," she said, pulling her legs together.
I guess I hadn't had any real conception of how strong her legs were until 
I was between them.  I had seen her do leg presses with well over 700 
pounds, but how do translate that to having her legs wrapped around you?  
Frankly, I hadn't done the math.  But the upshot, it's incredible power.  
Almost immediately I was out of breath.  I tried to pull her legs apart, 
but it was useless.  They wouldn't budge an inch, and they were hard as a 
rock.  In desperation I tried to pull her calves away, but it was just as 
useless.  All I got out of it was a cheap feel of double diamond calves I 
couldn't come close to getting by hand around.  I stared kissing her chest, 
hoping she would let me go before I passed out.  But the more I kissed, the 
tighter she squeezed her thighs together.  I could feel the enormous 
pressure on my ribs.
"Stephanie," I gasped.  "You're going to break my ribs!"
As I looked up at her, at the hair that, over the a past months, had now 
grown below her shoulders, at her sky green and grey eyes, and at her smile 
of satisfaction, I wondered if she even heard me.  She almost seemed to be 
in a trance.  Then...
"Oh fine," she said, "but one more thing," she added, and brought in her 
thighs a few more inches.  It was like the wind was being knocked out of 
me.  Then she let go, and I was on the floor in a heap.  She stood above 
me.  "Who's stronger?" she said.
I fought for a breath.  "You are," I wheezed.
She smiled sunnily.  "That's all I wanted to hear," she said, and picked me 
up off the ground, sliding her hands underneath my stomach on the ground 
and scooping me up.
"But don't forget it," she said, tossing me on the bed.
How could I?
That night we made love again, and as usual, she was in total control.  But 
this time, I'll tell you, it was a strange feeling knowing just how in 
control she was.  As she let me kiss her biceps, or her shoulders, I knew 
it was because she wanted me to.  I wondered what would happen the next 
time she got angry, and then wondered if I even wanted to find out.

The End?