Xena - My Story, Part 23
By Love My Muscles



If you enjoy my stories, please let me know; send an email to
covert.1@hotmail.com attention, Love My Muscles, thanks.

Gloria and my trip to Miami come's to an end, an untimely end for a
prospective lover and a new beginning for his wife. Please note that my
stories are graphic, but I don't believe in 'sugar-coating' who I am or what I
do. Love me or hate me, but never ignore me.

Tim and I had a fantastic dinner and now we were on our way back to my hotel
to take up where we had left off the night before, but he had said a few
things at dinner that made me 'rethink' the man of my dreams. 'Maybe I'm
reading in to things, or maybe I'm just not ready for a monogamous
relationship again,' I thought, 'Jack was a 'keeper', but he had a roving eye,
Tim is just too new.'

"You seem pretty quiet," Tim said as we walked. "I've just got a lot on my
mind," I said, "Have you ever been with a muscle woman before, Tim?" "No," he
said, "I went out with a fitness model once, but she was an air-head, so it
ended after one date." We turned into the parking lot of my hotel and I
stopped, and turned to face Tim.

"How about with a dominatrix," I asked, "did you ever date a dominatrix?" "No,
Xena," he said, looking around, "where are you going with these questions?"
"I'm just curious is all," I said, "but you know, I think Gloria and I are
going to spend the day together tomorrow. It's our last day in Miami."

Tim looked at me without saying a word, but I could tell his mind was racing.
"So that's it, just like that," he finally said, "You're brushing me off?" I
put a hand on his chest and said, "Well, it just wouldn't work out, you living
in Miami and me in Los Angeles. You know what they say about long distant
romances." I could feel his chest tighten, before he grabbed my wrist.

"You lesbian whore," he hissed, pulling my hand from his chest but not
releasing my wrist, "You used me and now you just want to run off to that
little bitch of yours." I looked around but there was no one in sight. "Look,
Tim, you don't have to get nasty," I said, "I never mislead you; you know I
like men and women, I'm just not ready for a dedicated relationship right
now," and I tried to pull my arm free, but he was strong and held me. "You
took advantage of me," Tim said.

Now I was getting mad. "I took advantage of you?" I asked, "Are you serious,
how did I take advantage of you?" "You seduced me," he said, "you seduced me
and used me for sex, all the while being a lesbian." To say I was stunned
would be an understatement. "You are out of you mind," I said, "You picked me
up on the beach. If anyone has been taken advantage of it's me, and again, I
am not a lesbian, now let go of me."

He began to walk toward his car which was in the parking lot not far away. I
tried to stand my ground, but found myself inching my way along with Tim
toward the car. "Look, just leave. I'm going back to LA the day after
tomorrow," I said, "You'll find ... " and he turned quickly. "I won't," he
yelled, "I won't find anyone else. You're coming with me." "Like hell I am," I
said and threw a left to his ear. He maintained his grip on my right wrist,
but seemed stunned by my punch, so I quickly jabbed him in the oblique's;
once, twice and then a third time.

With my final jab, he released my wrist. 'No time to massage it,' I thought,
'I need to get rid of this asshole.' Tim took a step in my direction and I
kicked him in the groin, the pointed toe of my ankle boots finding its target.
He dropped his hands to cover his large penis but took another step in my
direction. With his hands covering his groin, his face was exposed and my
right hook landed squarely on his jaw. His head snapped back, but he didn't go
down. Instead he shook his head several times in an effort to clear his mind
and took one more step in my direction. My left jab found his nose and it
broke upon impact with a red spray of blood.

"Ahh!" Tim yelled, "You bith, you boke my nos." He leaned against a car for
support and then lunged in my direction. I sidestepped his attack and before
he could go by me, I laced my fingers together from both hands and hammered
the back of his head. He fell forward, barely breaking his fall when he landed
on the asphalt.

"Go home, Tim," I said, looking down at him, "Go home or go to the hospital,
but just get the hell away from me." He was still lying face down on the
pavement, moaning. I placed the heel of my ankle boot on the back of his right
hand, just behind his middle knuckle and shifted my weight to my right foot.
As my heel went through the back of his hand and onto the pavement below, Tim
let out another scream and I heard bones break. The sound made me smile,
breaking this brute. I pulled the heel from his hand, turned and walked
towards the lobby. The manager had just exited the building, a pack of
cigarettes and lighter in one hand, a cellphone in the other. He glance in my
direction and looked like he was ready to say something when I hear the sound
of Tim behind me.

As I whirled around, he was perhaps five feet away, blood running from his
nose and the palm of his hand, moving fast, arms outstretched. His momentum
and my thunderous right fist to his mouth stopped him in his tracks. He went
down hard, gasping for air through both a broken nose and a cavern that was
once his mouth. He managed to spit several teeth out as the hotel manager ran
up.

"What's going on, who is that, are you alright?" his questions coming quickly.
"I'm fine", I said, "but he needs a doctor." Before I had even said that, he
was dialing 9-1-1. He quickly identified himself and gave the address of the
hotel. He said that a man had attacked a woman but the man was in need of an
ambulance. He closed his phone and said, "They'll be here in a few minutes."

The parking lot was a beehive of activity within ten minutes. Police cars,
Miami Fire Department EMT's and an ambulance all were on the scene. Police
took my statement and that of the manager as the EMT's worked on Tim. As I was
talking to a police detective, a uniformed officer came up and whispered in
the detective's ear and then walked away. "Did you know Tim was a Miami PD
officer?" the detective asked me. "Yes, yes I did," I said. "Pretty big guy,"
the detective said. "Yeah," I replied. The man looked in each direction and
then leaned in closer to me and said, "He's a bully. He beats up his wife. I
don't like him much."

'Beats up his wife,' I thought, 'he's married?' "He's married," I asked.
"Yup," the detective said, "Wife and two kids, I think, maybe three, but we've
been to his house on a domestic call but the wife would never press charges."

I finished giving my statement just as Gloria stepped out the front door,
heading for her car. Taking in the scene, she spotted me and ran to me as the
detective was walking away. The ambulance personnel had just loaded Tim into
the ambulance.

"My god, what happened," she asked. "Were you on your way out?" I asked. "Yes,
to get something to eat," she said. "I'll join you, let's go down the street
to the Cuban restaurant, I want to ask the waitress something and I'll tell
you the whole story," I said.

We drove, this time, to the restaurant. I asked for a table in Maria's
section. As we waited, I filled Gloria in on what had happened. "So, he's
married?" she asked. "Apparently," I said, "That's why we're here. I want to
ask Maria about him, he dated her at least once that he told me about."

Maria was surprised to see me back again. "Sit down, Maria," I said. She
looked around, clearly not comfortable to sit while on duty. "Did you date
Tim?" I asked. "Yes, twice, until I found out he was married. I ended it," she
said, "I didn't want to be the 'other woman' if you know what I mean." "I do,
and did it end well," I asked. She frowned and said, "Not really. On the first
date, Tim was very kind; held the door for me, asked about me and he was a
very good listener, or so I thought, and then on the second date, he was very,
how would I say it, 'pushy'. He tried to force himself on me."

"How did you find out he was married?" Gloria asked. "His wife came in here,
looking for me," Maria said, "somehow she found out that I had gone out with
Tim. Maybe he told her. The way she talked she made it sound like I picked him
up rather than him picking me up." Gloria and I sat there processing what
Maria had told us.

Maria slid out of the booth. "Would you like anything?" she asked looking at
Gloria. Gloria ordered and once Maria left said, "What do you think?" "I think
Tim is a 'player', he abuses his wife and dates other women," I told her. "He
abuses his wife?" Gloria asked. "That's what the detective told me," I said.
We sat for a minute in silence until Maria brought Gloria's meal.

"One more question, Maria," I said before she left the table, "Did Tim hit
you?" Maria's eyes widened and she looked at the booths either side of ours.
Softly she said, "He slapped me and called me names. He slapped me because,"
and she looked around once more and I could see tears in her eyes. "Go on,
dear," Gloria said. She swallowed hard and said, "He slapped me because he
couldn't get his penis in me," and she wiped an errant tear from her cheek.
"There, there," Gloria said, "That's OK, honey."

"That bastard," I said, "I'd love to have a talk with his wife." Maria looked
at me and said, "I know where he lives." Maria jotted the address on a
cocktail napkin.

On the way to Tim's house, Gloria asked, "So what are you going to say to
Tim's wife?" "I want her to be aware of what a cheating, lying, son of a bitch
her husband is. I want her to know." "Are you going to get rough with her?"
Gloria asked. "I have no hatred toward Tim's wife, no," I said, "I just want
to see what kind of a woman that prick is married to."

We pulled up to the house and drove past it. It looked dark. We came back on
the other side of the street and parked a few doors down. "What now," Gloria
asked. "Now we go find out if anyone's home," I said as I opened the car door.
Gloria followed me as I went to the front door and knocked. No barking dog and
no answer. "Let's try the back," I said quietly. The back door was unlocked
and as I opened it, Gloria put her hand on my shoulder. "You can't go in
there, that's breaking and entering," she said. "It's not breaking, I didn't
break the lock," I told her and stepped into a kitchen. Gloria followed.

We didn't need to turn on the lights as it was a full moon and the light
coming through the windows showed a clean and tidy kitchen. I strolled into
the dining room and living room and then down a corridor to what was obviously
the bedrooms. The house was quiet.

The first door on the right was the bedroom of a young boy. A picture on one
wall showed Tim with his son and a short-haired attractive woman. The bedroom
across the hall was a baby's room with a crib, changing table and dresser as
well as a rocking chair. At the end of the corridor was the master bedroom.
Like the rest of the house it was neat and tidy, freshly dusted with no
clothing strewn about.

I went to the night stand nearest the door and pulled open the drawer. A
revolver lay atop several porn magazines. A jar of lubricant and pair of
handcuffs were also there. "Obviously Tim's side of the bed," I said to
Gloria. She was looking in the drawers of the dresser. She held up a pair of
thong panties. "Must be the wife's, they're a size 'small'," she said. 'How in
the hell does he have sex with a small woman when his cock is as big as it
is?' I wondered. 'I guess I'll just have to ask her,' I thought as I heard the
back door open.

Gloria looked as if she were ready to run. I stood just inside the bedroom
door watching a light go on in the kitchen and then in the living room. I
heard the soft padding of bare feet in the hall. A woman with short blonde
hair, no more than five feet tall turned on the light switch by the door. She
nearly walked into me before she realized I was standing there.

"Who the hell are you?" she said, glancing at Gloria and back to me. "I'm
Xena," I said, "I'm the latest woman Tim was screwing." "You bitch!" she
screamed and came at me, fists upraised. She pounded on my chest and when I
didn't back away, she pulled back and hit me in my abs. Gloria looked as if
she wanted to pull the woman off me, but I motioned for her to stay where she
was, her blows were ineffective. She alternately pounded my chest and punched
me in the stomach, not saying anything until she seemed to tire.

"What's your name," Gloria asked. She turned to look at Gloria and said
softly, "Marsha." "Well, Marsha," Gloria said, "You know why we're here, don't
you?" The little woman shook her head. "We're here to tell you that your
husband has cheated on you, once again," Gloria said softly, "and this time he
picked the wrong woman." Now Marsha looked back at me. I nodded.

"Where are the children, Marsha?" Gloria asked, and Marsha turned her
attention back to her. "They're at my sisters," she said and sobbed. "Now,
now, there's no need to cry," Gloria said, "Did you just get back from the
hospital?" Marsha nodded. "And how is Tim," Gloria asked. "He has a broken
nose and jaw and will need a lot of dental work and has a hole in his hand,"
Marsha said, "He couldn't talk," and sobbed some more, "They don't know
whether he'll be able to be a cop any longer."

"Look, I'm sorry about having to beat up your husband, but he got really
violent when I told him I didn't want to see him any longer," I said. She
looked up at me and said, "You beat him up? What did you hit him with?" "Just
my fists, Marsha," I told her. "Did you say you didn't want to see him anymore
because of me?" she asked. "I honestly didn't know he was married," I told
her, "He just gave me 'bad vibes' is all." "But you did have sex with him,"
she asked. "Yes, yes I did," I told her.

"Is your husband a sex addict, Marsha?" Gloria asked. "He saw a department
psychiatrist for that as well as a therapist," Marsha said. "And how often do
you and Tim have sex?" Gloria asked. "That's none of your business," Marsha
said. "Let me just say that it's my professional opinion that the two of you
never have sex, well," Gloria went on, "except for the two times you became
pregnant." "Like I said, it's none of your business," Marsha repeated.

"Look," Gloria said, "Tim is a sexual predator and he's abusive to you, does
he hit the kids?" "No," she said too quickly, "he'd never lay a hand on the
kids." "Is that because you intervene?" I asked. I saw tears welling up in her
eyes and she began to sob again. "Did I make Tim the way he is" she asked,
"because we don't have sex?" "No, Marsha, you didn't drive Tim to be the way
he is, he needs a lot of counseling," Gloria said.

I wrapped my arms around Marsha and held her against my chest. "Shh," I said,
"you'll be OK, baby." She rested her head on my chest, and her sobbing
lessened. "Tim just needs to get help, like Gloria said," I told her, "Gloria
knows, she's a therapist." Marsha pulled away a minute and looked at Gloria,
"Can you help him?" "No, honey, Xena and I live in California, but I can give
you the name of an excellent therapist here in Miami," Gloria said. "Thank
you," Marsha said and put her head back on my chest.

"You're very strong," Marsha said a minute later. I chuckled and said, "Yes, I
am, maybe that's what attracted Tim to me in the first place, my muscles."
"Tim likes women with muscles; I suppose that's why he works out so much,"
Marsha said, "that's what attracted me to Tim, his muscles." "So you like
muscles?" I asked. "Yes," she said softly. "How about muscular women," I
asked. "I've never thought about it, but I've never been with a woman before,
you know, sexually, I mean," Marsha said.

"It sounds like you haven't been with anyone for a while," Gloria said. Marsha
blushed and said, "Yes, I know, that's true." "Let me take care of you," I
said to Marsha. "What do you mean?" she asked.

I took my tank top over my head revealing my abs and chest. Marsha reached
forward and ran a hand down my chest. "Take my shorts off," I told her and she
looked up into my eyes. I smiled and said again, "Take them off, Marsha."
Slowly she unsnapped and then unzipped my shorts allowing them to drop to the
floor. I stepped out of them.

"Gloria," I said, "Help Marsha get undressed, will you?" "Yes, mistress,"
Gloria said as she moved behind Marsha and unsnapped her jeans, and then began
to unbutton her long sleeve top. "Please," Marsha said quietly, "don't." At
first, Gloria hesitated and then seeing the bruise on the back of Marsha's
neck, slipped the blouse from her shoulders.

"Did Tim do this to you?" I asked as Gloria and I looked at the bruises on
Marsha's body. "Ye-yes," she said softly, "but he didn't mean to." "Like hell
he didn't," I said. I was mad. "What hospital is he at?" I demanded. "Miami
General," Marsha asked, "why?" "I'm going to go pay Tim a visit" I said, "What
room is he in," and pulled on my shorts and tank top. Masha said, "He's in
room 423."

"Xena, wait," Gloria said, "What are you going to do?" "Something that should
have been done a long time ago. You stay with Marsha, I'll be back in a hour."
and I left.

I drove to the hospital and parked in the visitor lot. The lot was nearly
empty and I enter through the main lobby, taking the stairs to the fourth
floor. As luck would have it, the stairwell door was only feet away from Room
423. I entered and Tim was the only one in the double room, I locked the door
behind me. He was asleep as I quietly stood by his bedside. His hand was
heavily bandaged as well as his face. Marsha had said that his jaw was wired
shut because of the broken jaw.

I would have loved to break more bones, but I didn't have the luxury of
staying around to get off on listening to them snap and watching the terror in
his eyes. I did want him to know that I was here, so I shook his uninjured arm
after moving the nurse's call button. I lowered my lips next to his ear. "Wake
up big boy; wake up, Mistress Xena has a surprise for you." At the sound of my
name, his eyes flew open and he looked over at me. Fear in his eyes. I smiled
at him. "How you feeling, Tim?" I asked and he mumbled. "Good, good," I said,
"I'm glad to hear that," not that I had understood a word he had tried to say.

"Listen, Tim, I want you to know why I'm here," I said in a soft, controlled
voice, "I was fine with beating the crap out of you because of you just being
a womanizer and a general all around dick, but I want you to know that I've
just come from meeting Marsha." As soon as I said this his eyes went even
wider and he mumbled some more. "Right, right," I said, "anyway, I saw what
you've done to her. The bruises and the mental abuse, you're quite the big,
bad, tough guy, aren't you?" Tim shook his head franticly as his hand searched
for the call button.

"Let me tell you something funny, Tim," I said, "you know how I saw Marsha's
bruises? I was getting ready to have sex with your wife, Tim, and when I took
her blouse and pants off, I couldn't believe it." I lowered the rail on the
hospital bed. "No, I couldn't believe that you would do that to that little
woman. It's disgusting, Tim."

I snaked a hand under his head and leaning over the bed, bringing his face in
contact with my breast. "I'd love to take my time and break a few more bones,"
I said, "maybe puncture a lung or something, but I really have to get back to
Marsha." I held him fast against my chest, his mumbling really muffled. He
began to thrash his legs, trying to free himself.

"Can you believe it," I continued, "Marsha still wants me to have sex with
her, even with all the hurt you've caused." Tim's thrashing was beginning to
subside. "And you know, I'm looking forward to it, but unlike you, I know how
to treat my women." His legs were still but I continued to hold him against my
chest. "I'll be gentle, Tim, I promise. It's a shame that you never understood
that; perhaps in another life." I gave one last push against my breast and
then I lowered his head back to the pillow.

I raised the rail of the hospital bed and wiped it down and replace the call
button. I unlocked the door and left by way of the stairway that I had come
up. I drove back to Marsha's. Gloria and Marsha were waiting for me in the
living room; each had a cup of coffee.

"Is he gone," Marsha asked. "Yes," I said, "it was quick." Marsha took a sip
from her mug. "I've been explaining how much better off she's going to be
without an abusive husband," Gloria said, "chances are that his pension and
insurance will cover the burial cost and still leave a little nest egg for her
and the kids."

I took Marsha's coffee mug from her hands and laid it on the table next to the
couch, and then taking her by the hand said, "Come with me, baby," and lead
her to the bedroom.

"Get undressed," I said as I stepped out of my shorts and removed my tank top.
I lay on the bed, my legs slightly spread and said, "Pleasure you mistress,
Marsha." She looked at me and then knelt between my legs and crudely lapped at
my clit, her hands caressing my abs and breasts. "Gently, baby, gently," I
said. Soon I felt the stirrings of an erection. "Hmm," I cooed, "That's it."

She stopped and looked at my now semi-erect clip. I could read the expression
on her face, and I laughed lightly, and then called out, "Gloria, come here,
baby." Gloria came into the bedroom and I said, "Get undressed, Gloria, Marsha
will service your pussy."

Gloria and Marsha exchanged looks and Gloria undressed, and then took my place
on the bed. Marsha began to lap at Gloria's clit as I stepped behind Marsha
and impaled her with my shaft. I was turned on by watching Marsha service
Gloria and the multiple orgasms that each woman had. After twenty minutes I
could hold back no longer and with several last strong thrusts, I exploded.

The three of us lay atop each other; Gloria on the bottom, Marsha in the
middle and I on top, regaining my breath. Gloria was the first to speak, "That
was wonderful, Marsha, thank you," she said. "Thank you," Marsha said drawing
a hand across her mouth, wiping away a few drops of Gloria's cum.

I stood at the foot of the bed and touched the end of my receding clit, wiping
a drop of my cum from its tip. I held it for Marsha who touched my finger with
the tip of her tongue, and then took my finger into her mouth. We were all
startled by the sound of the telephone ringing.

Marsha looked from me to Gloria and then to the phone. She padded to the
nightstand and picked it up, "Hello?" she said, and listened a minute. "Yes, I
understand," she said, "I'll make the arrangements," and she hung up.

She turned to Gloria and me and said, "That was the hospital notifying me of
Tim's death. They said he aspirated, choking on his own blood." I went to her
and put my arms around the woman as she began to cry. I could feel her tears
running down my chest. "Do you want Gloria and me to go to the hospital with
you?" I asked. "No," she said, looking up at me, "I don't want to see him
again, the bastard, I'm just going to have the mortuary pick up the body."

"Will you be OK, Marsha," Gloria asked. "Yes," Marsha said, "it's still just a
shock, I'll be fine," and she smiled, perhaps for the first time in a long
time. We all hugged each other and then I said, "We better be going, we have
an early flight tomorrow."

We dressed and Gloria and I drove back to the hotel in South Beach. That
night, Gloria and I spent the night together; her fingers lightly tracing my
veins while she ran the tip of her tongue over my muscles. We fell asleep in
each other's arms around midnight, Gloria's head resting on my chest, her
thigh between my legs.

It was mid-morning by the time we woke. We packed our bags and checked out
arriving at Miami International with only minutes to spare, and flew home to
Orange County.

On the plane, Gloria asked me what I thought of the convention. I told her
that it wasn't as boring as I had thought it might be. She laughed and said,
"Sometimes therapists get caught up in themselves." "Like Paul, the guy who
was trying to rattle me," I asked. Gloria smiled, "You know, he and I dated a
couple of times before I was married to Roger, of course. It just didn't work
out." "Like Tim and I," I said. "Well, not exactly, Paul's still alive,
although his manhood may be a bit shaken," Gloria said, "While Tim, well, Tim
was a bastard." I sneered, "Yes he was."