Lucky Guys By Sonofjack,sonofjackwell@gmail.com Four short stories about some . . . well, very lucky guys ******************** I've recently started writing stories on commission, so if anyone has a CUSTOM STORY they'd like me to write, Email me atsonofjackwell@gmail.com. ******************************** I never argue with my wife. The reason why goes all the way back to our first date. When Lilly first moved into the same apartment complex as me, the first thing I noticed was her beautiful green eyes. I know it sounds like a clich', but it's true. When I saw her moving into an apartment in the building next to mine, I thought about offering to help her. Two things nixed that idea however. One, I work from home and at the time I was facing an important and tight work deadline. Two, before I could even get up the nerve to introduce myself, it seemed like every single man and a few married ones within a five building radius were already helping her. "Popular girl," I thought to myself. That alone was usually enough to scare me off. I'm not exactly the most confident man in the world when it comes to women. I mean, I know I'm not bad looking; I don't have any disfiguring scars or anything. On the other hand, it seems like I'm never the kind of guy that ends up with the girl either. Of course, in this case, I've blown the suspense. Since I've already identified Lilly as "my wife", I guess it's obvious that this time I did get the girl. About two Saturdays after she moved in, I was hanging out by the apartment complex's pool trying to catch some rays. I wasn't actually swimming. In fact I wasn't even wearing a swim suit. I was wearing cargo shorts and a tank top with flip flops on my feet. The main attraction of the pool area at that moment wasn't the water. It was the chaise lounges. I was enjoying the sun, reading a good book and every once in a while sneaking a peek at the girls in their bikinis. The next thing I knew, a shadow appeared and blocked out most of the sun. When I looked up, I saw a vision so lovely that it practically took my breath away. Lilly was standing in front of me wearing a scant white bikini, sunglasses and a big, floppy beach hat. She looked spectacular. I admit it right now: if the first thing I saw Lilly in was this bikini, her eyes would not have been the first thing I noticed. This woman had a killer body. Of course, I didn't know this at the time, but for the sake of moving this story along, I'll tell you that Lilly is 5'7" and her measurements are 34-23-34 with an impressive 34D cup. She looked extremely fit and yet extremely soft all over except for her obviously rock-hard abs. Her skin was so smooth that it made satin seem like sandpaper. Her long, full hair hung loose around her shoulders and made me think that if God ever created a river of butterscotch, it would surely look like this. She tilted her head forward and looked at me with those gorgeous green eyes over the tops of her sunglasses and asked, "Is anyone sitting in this chair?" She was talking about the chaise lounge next to me, but I was too struck by her dazzling presence to process that information. "Huh?" I asked. "The chair. Beside you. Occupied or not?" she asked. "Oh," I responded, "Unoccupied! Please, help yourself." "Well, thank you. It's so kind of you to invite me to sit in a chair that I'm entitled to sit in anyway," she said sarcastically as she sat down beside me. "I didn't mean it that way," I said trying to explain and probably sounding like a poor jerk who knew he was in way over his head""which is exactly what I was. Taking pity on me she said, "Relax, Sport, I'm only messing with you." "Oh," was all I could muster as a retort. "So, do you come here often?" she asked. "Not very. I'm not much of a swimmer. I just come down here once in awhile to take advantage of the lounge chairs and catch a few rays while I read my book." Just as I finished talking, a couple of pretty young women walked by wearing bikinis. "The scenery isn't bad either, huh?" she asked playfully. "Well . . . no," I admitted. "Geez, Sport, stop blushing. I'm just messing with you, remember? My name is Lilly by the way. I just moved in a couple of weeks ago." "I know," I said, "I saw you moving in. And . . . I'm Alex." "Well, Alex, it certainly was neighborly of you to come over and introduce yourself when you saw me moving in." By this time I'd caught on to her playful needling so I decided to join in. "From what I saw, you weren't exactly starving for male companionship that day." "That's true," she said, "I did create a bit of a stir that day didn't I?" God! She was driving me crazy talking this way. Maybe it's because I'm a little lacking in the confidence department myself, but a confident woman gets me hotter than almost anything. I decided to pursue this matter further. "Yeah, you sure had the worker bees buzzing around you that day. But I'm not sure; does that make you the queen bee or the honey?" "Well, let's see . . . I'm certainly spoiled enough to be a queen, but I'm also very, very sweet when I want to be." "Is that right?" I asked in my most sexy, seductive voice. "Oh, yes," she answered in a much sexier, much more seductive voice. "If that's true, then where are all your worker bees now?" "Oh, them? By the end of the move in I think that all decided that they couldn't handle a woman like me." "And why is that?" I asked. "Let's just say that by the end of the day I managed to scare them all off." "Really? You don't seem so scary to me." "You don't know the half of it." "How can I find out?" She looked at me with a gaze that would melt all the wax in a candle factory and said, "Take me out to dinner tonight. Seven. You know where I live." She got up quickly and walked off without waiting for my reply. I was pleased to notice that she looked just as spectacular walking away as she did standing before me blocking the sun. I'm sure that she put a little extra sway into her amazing round bottom knowing that I'd be watching. That night I took her to a medium nice local restaurant. She looked stunning in a simple yellow sun dress. Her dress was another manifestation of her self-confidence. She knew that a woman as naturally beautiful as her looked the most attractive in the simplest of clothes. She managed to look cute, unpretentious and incredibly sexy all at the same time. The date went incredibly well. We made with the first date small talk, she laughed at most of my jokes, and we got to know each other. I know I haven't mentioned her dazzling smile up until now, but that's because even though we've been married for over ten years now, I still haven't been able to find the words to adequately describe it. Suffice it to say that looking across the table at those eyes and that smile . . . . It didn't take me long to realize that I was falling in love. After dinner, we walked into the parking lot and noticed that a small crowd had gathered. They were watching a car being loaded onto the back of one of those flatbed tow trucks. Imagine my surprise when I realized that if was my car that was being towed. I went up to the monster of a tow truck driver and his equally monstrous assistant to find out what the deal was. They told me that my car was being repossessed! I explained to them that this was impossible since my car had been paid off for over a year. Unfortunately, talking to these two was like talking to a brick wall. They insisted that they had the right car, and they refused to call in and double check. I couldn't believe this was happening. Here I was, on a first date with the girl of beyond my wildest dreams, and I was having something as emasculating as having my car repossessed happen right in front of her. The only thing more humiliating than this would have been if we were at the beach and a bully kicked sand in my face. I explained the situation to Lilly. She asked me if I was sure that the tow truck operators were making a mistake. When I told her that I was absolutely sure she said, "Let me talk to them." She went over to them and tried to explain the situation. When they refused to unload my car, Lilly jumped up onto the back of the flatbed. She then calmly snapped the chains that were holding my car in place. Even more amazing, she effortlessly lifted my car in the air until she was holding it over her head. Then she walked to the edge of the truck bed and jumped to the ground still holding my car over her head. She gently lowered the car to the ground, looked at me, blew me a kiss and said, "Shall we?" I went over and unopened the door for her. She got in, reached over and unlocked my door from the inside. A minute later we drove away with the two tow truck guys and most of the people in the crowd staring at us, their mouths agape in amazement. A year later we were married. Our marriage has been a very happy one""mostly because Lilly makes all the decisions. I've never worked up the courage to argue with her. ********************************************* Ray was very excited. Yesterday he posted his most recent story on his favorite strong girl website. This morning he was anxious to check his email to see if anyone had written him to comment. Getting positive feedback for his amateur writing efforts wasn't much, but it meant something to Ray. It was validation for the work he'd put into writing his little strong girl fantasies. It made his feel good to know that others enjoyed his efforts. He'd even built up a tiny fan base. He could usually count on one or two of his "regulars" to comment whenever he posted a new story. While he certainly enjoyed hearing from this small but growing list of readers, he was particularly interested in the "growing" part of it. That is to say, he loved to hear from fans he'd never heard from before. He'd had several stories posted by now, and he always worried that perhaps his stories were becoming a little too formulaic. He liked to think of his strong girl tales primarily as love stories. "Love stories with a twist" is how he put it. The twist being that the women in his stories were always much, much stronger than the men. In fact, at least once in all his stories the main female character was described in exactly that way""much, much stronger""than the main male character or characters. There was something about the double use of the word "much" that he found stimulating and erotically charged when used to describe a woman's superior strength. Also, in all or nearly all of his stories, he always had the woman say to the man," I'm sooo much stronger than you," or something very close to it. He always added one or two o's to her "so" to emphasize her superiority and supreme confidence. Of course, one of the main challenges of writing such stories was coming up with new feats of strength for the women to perform. Some writers preferred their women to possess more-or-less slightly exaggerated but human levels of strength. Other writers wrote about women who were capable of lifting mountains and aircraft carriers. The women in Ray's stories were generally somewhere in the middle. He liked to write about women whose strength was definitely in the superhuman range, but not too extreme. Ray's typical standard""one that he went back to again and again""was to write about women who were capable of lifting cars over their heads without much effort. The first message Ray noticed when he opened his email was from one of his established fans. The comment congratulated "Sunshine" (Ray's strong girl website user name) on his latest story and encouraged him to keep up the good work. The email also offered a couple of suggestions for Ray to consider for future stories. This pleased Ray. What excited Ray even more was that he received a comment from an email address he didn't recognize. Naturally he was very interested in what mt42@sweetwater.org had to say. He anxiously opened the new email and read: Dear Sunshine, I was very pleased to see that you'd posted a new story this morning. I must say that I am quite a fan of them. Your user name fits you because your stories certainly bring a ray of sunshine to my days! I thought that this newest story was your best so far! One of the main things I like about your stories is that they are truly romantic. Also, your portrayals of strong girls are the most realistic I've read. As a woman, those things are important to me. Keep up the GREAT work and by all means, KEEP WRITING! Ray did a double take and went back and read the words "As a woman" three or four times before it truly sunk in. He actually had a woman fan! He could hardly believe it! He wanted to answer this email right away, but he didn't want to scare her off. He decided to take a casual approach but to still make it clear that he was happy that a woman commented on his story. He also made sure to ask a question so that she would be more likely to respond. After writing several drafts, this is what he came up with: Mt42@sweetwater.org, Thank you for your kind words and encouragement. I'm glad you enjoyed my latest story. It's especially nice to get a woman's perspective. Do you have any other stories to recommend? I'm always on the lookout for new, quality strong girl stories. By the way, it's funny that you say my stories bring "a ray of sunshine" to your day because my real first name is Ray! Thanks again. -Ray P.S. How do you know that my portrayals of strong girls are so realistic? He decided to reveal his real first name because he wanted to establish a feeling of intimacy with his newest reader. He hoped that he hadn't overplayed his hand with his p.s., but he hoped even more that she would reply that she WAS a strong girl. A few days later, Ray got his reply: Ray, It was so nice to hear from you. Since we're revealing names, the "MT" in my email address stands for "Miss Terri". I'm surprised that you don't get more comments from women because I find your stories quite adorable, and I'm sure other women would too. I don't have any other stories to recommend that are half as good as yours. Now that I think about it, I guess your portrayals of women in general are very realistic-not just strong girls in particular. -Miss Terri P.S. I'd love to hear from you again :) Ray wasted no time in replying: Terri, Wow! You might just be my biggest fan! It's nice to hear from fans like you because it encourages me to keep writing. Do you have any story suggestions? When you told me that my portrayal of strong girls was realistic, I thought maybe you knew this because you WERE a strong girl! But I guess it makes sense that if my portrayals of women are accurate in general that they would also be accurate for strong girls too. I don't think I have any great insight or anything. I just try to put myself in someone else's shoes. -Ray P.S. You have an unusual email address. What does the "sweetwater" refer to. Ray was quite taken aback by Terri's next email: Dear Ray, Please, address to me as "Miss Terri". I much prefer that. I don't think I'd dare to make any story suggestions because you're stories are already so great, but I will tell you the elements to your stories that I find so appealing. I love how the women in your stories are sooo much stronger than the men, and I love how the women used their superior strength to dominate the men. I also love how you make it clear that even though the women intimidate and subjugate the men, there is still true love between them. I especially like the parts of your stories where the much, much stronger women force the men to grovel, worship and beg. These scenes are so charged with eroticism because it's obvious that the men in your stories are just as into it as the women. Just talking about one of your stories makes me hot and anxious to read another. -Miss Terri P.S. The sweetwater in my email address is because I work for the Sweetwater Corporation. P.P.S. I guess I am kind of a strong girl. I can bench press 400 pounds. The Sweetwater Corporation, of course, is one of the fastest growing companies in the world today. They are known for their eco and socially responsible policies. It's reported that for every dollar they earn, forty cents goes to support eco or socially responsible causes. It's also known as a great place to work with great benefits and perks. However, what Ray was most interested in after reading this email was the part about bench pressing 400 pounds. Could this possible be the strong girl of his dreams? Of course, she wasn't quite into the car lifting realm of the women in his stories, but 400 pounds was nothing to sneeze at. He doubled down on his effort to find out more about the mysterious Miss Terri. He asked more personal questions. He wanted to know where she lived, what things she liked and didn't like and most of all, what she looked like. Luckily for him, the more he pressed her for information, the more she seemed willing to give. Before long they were exchanging phone calls was well as emails. They became social media friends, and soon they were communicating several times a day. The "L" word hadn't been mentioned yet, but they both acknowledged that they "had feelings" for one another. Finally, a week after he posted a picture of himself for her to see, she posted a picture of herself. Ray was pleased to see that she was a pleasantly pretty young woman. She wasn't a gorgeous bombshell by any stretch of the imagination, but she had a pretty face and a fit, trim figure. She was as pretty as most of the women he'd been out with, so he was not disappointed. She wrote that she thought he was handsome, and after exchanging photos, she said that she thought it was time they met. Since they lived in different states, travel was an issue. However, she said that reduced airline ticket prices was a perk of working for Sweetwater, and she insisted on paying. She said that if it bothered him, he could pay her back later. Finally, the great day arrived. When Ray's airplane landed, he was surprised to see a driver waiting at the airport to pick him up. The driver explained that he had instructions to drive Ray to Sweetwater corporate headquarters. Ray thought this was strange, but he went along anyway. When Ray reached the twenty-five story building that housed Sweetwater Corporation, he was quickly whisked into a private elevator to the penthouse. When the elevator opened a voice over an income instructed him to step inside and take a seat. He recognized the voice as Miss Terri's. When he was seated, the voice told him, "Ray, I'm afraid I was not completely honest with you about everything online and over the phone." In the back of his mind, Ray knew that this was all too good to be true. "I've been catfished," he said to himself. Finally he asked out loud, "Why weren't you completely honest?" "The truth is, Ray, I could feel myself falling in love with you. At first, I lied because I didn't want to reveal too much. Then after I completely trusted you, I was afraid to come clean for fear that you might not trust me." Ray was ecstatic to know that Miss Terri had fallen in love with him because he felt the same way about her . . . if only she turned out to be the person he thought she was. He hoped that maybe the lies weren't so bad. "Well, what things did you lie about?" "Well, first of all, I do work for Sweetwater, but not in the way you might think. I'm actually the founder and CEO." Ray sat up a little straighter in his chair. "And that picture I posted of myself was really a picture of my secretary. This is what I really look like." As the real Miss Terri stepped into the room, Ray mouth dropped open in stupefaction. She was without a doubt the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on. She was a six foot tall, redheaded, bikini clad goddess with an exquisite face and a magnificent body. One look at her large breasts and he didn't have to wonder what the "42" in her email address stood for. Ray was now sitting ramrod straight in his chair. "And the 400 pound bench press?" he asked. "Oh, that. I can bench press more than three times that. With each arm." "My God, Terri, you're incredible." "That's MISS Terri, and don't you forget it," she said as she began to walk towards him. "Now, get ready to grovel. And worship. And beg." *********************************************** I first saw my beautiful neighbor Marie shortly after I moved into my new house. I happened to catch her one morning when she went out to get the morning newspaper that the paperboy left in her driveway. She was wearing one of those shorty robes that did nothing to hide her shapely legs and little to hide her very cute, very tight, round ass. I immediately took note of the time hoping that she went to get the paper every morning around this time. The next morning I made a point of looking out my kitchen window at about the same time, and sure enough, there was Marie-same robe, same legs, same ass-picking up her paper. After this, her routine became my routine. I made sure I was present every morning to watch her fetch her newspaper. On most days after watching Marie, I would go straight to my bedroom and relive the experience again and again. She was truly a beautiful girl next door. Marie is a tiny bombshell of a girl standing only 5'4", but like the old cigarette ad says she is "so round, so firm, so fully packed". The girl she reminds me the most of is Dawn Wells who played Mary Ann on the old Gilligan's Island TV show except that Marie has bigger tits and has an even more tight, firm ass if you can believe that. This went on for a couple of weeks. Every morning, Marie would come out and fetch her morning paper and every morning I would watch. I thought it was my little secret until one day just before she bent over to pick up the paper, Marie turned around and blew me a kiss! I was busted! I thought that I would soon become known as the neighborhood perv. However, rather than seeming angry, Marie flashed me a dazzling smile and then made a big show of sl-o-o-o-o-wly turning around and bending over to get her paper making sure that I got a good look at her amazing ass. She then flashed another smile at me over her shoulder and dashed inside. I wasn't quite sure what to do after this, but I figured that I might as well talk to her if nothing else. Later that day I noticed she was outside watering her lawn so I went over and introduced myself. "Hi, neighbor, I'm Jeff." "Hi, Jeff, I'm Marie. Have you been enjoying the show?" I discovered right away that Marie was the direct type. I liked that in hot, little neighbor ladies. "I'd be lying if I said no," I admitted. "How long have you known?" "Since the first day." "Oh. So . . . I'm new to the neighborhood," I said trying to change the subject. "Yes, I know. How come you never go to work during the day?" she asked. Hmmm. This told me that she must be paying at least some attention to my comings and goings. "I work from home," I answered. "What about you?" "I'm a stay at home wife," she said. So she was married. This might be a deal-breaker, but the vibes I was getting from her told me that it might not be. One again, I decided to tactically change the subject. "When I first bought this place, I heard that Bulk Bannister lived in this neighborhood. Do you know him?" "I should, I've been married to him for ten years." Annnnd here was the deal-breaker. As I'm sure you know, Bulk Bannister is one of the largest men in professional wrestling. He turned to wrestling after a short career in the NFL and quickly rose to the top of the heap. I mean, I know that pro wrestling is fake, but I still wasn't about to start an affair with the wife of a 6'8", 360 pound mountain of muscle. I quickly made some excuse and cut short our conversation. I know I should have let it go, but somehow, the next morning there I was at my kitchen window at the appointed time once again watching Marie in her petite robe. Once again, she smiled and waved and made quite a show of presenting her ass to me. I kept telling myself that no woman was worth dying over, but somehow I just couldn't help myself. Five minutes later I was standing in Marie's living room. Five minutes after that we were making love. Over the next few weeks we got to know each other. She told me that she and the Bulkster had been high school sweethearts. She was a cheerleader and Jimmy (Bulk's real name) was on the football team. According to Marie, if it wasn't for her pushing and driving him, Jimmy never would have amounted to anything. She described him as stupid and lazy. She even called him weak several times. She said that over the years she had outgrown him. When I asked her why she stayed with him, she said that she felt a sense of obligation. She said he would be lost without her. Besides, she freely admitted that she enjoyed the more than comfortable lifestyle he was able to provide. They did have a very nice home. There was even a heated pool in the backyard. The irony of this was that when Bulk was on the road which was most of the time, it was me that enjoyed his beautiful home with his beautiful wife. She and I spent a lot of time lounging around the swimming pool both in and out of our swimming clothes. Of course, in the back of my mind was always lurking the fact that if Bulk ever found out, I was a dead man. Even though I tried not to worry about it, it was hard not to. It became even harder after the time I accidently stumbled into his private gym. The thing that brought home just how much danger I was in was the size of the weights I saw in there. I've never seen such sturdy, thick bars loaded with so many incredibly large weights. He must have had these weights custom made I thought to myself. I don't know exactly how much weight each bar held, but I know that even the lightest of them was many times the amount of weight I could lift even a fraction of an inch on the best day of my life. A few times I tried to express my concerns to Marie, but she just scoffed and told me I didn't have anything to worry about. Of course, one day the inevitable happened. Bulk came home unexpectedly to find me sleeping in his bed. I woke up to the sensation of being roughly lifted into the air. Bulk was easily holding me suspended in midair under the arms. "Who are you, and why are you naked in my bed?" He asked with murder in his eyes. My eyes darted around the room searching for Marie who was nowhere to be seen. I was afraid that maybe this monster had already "taken care" of her. "Where's Marie?" I asked, "What have you done with her?" "Never mind that, WHAT ARE YOU DOING NAKED IN MY BED?" When I didn't say anything, he shook my roughly and said, "Answer me, wimp!" What could I say? I was sure I was dead. Just as I was preparing myself mentally to meet the angel of death, I heard Marie's voice say, "Jimmy, put him down NOW!" She didn't sound scared, she sounded angry. "But, Marie""" Jimmy started to sputter. "I said NOW!" Much to my relief, Jimmy said, "Yes, Marie," and gently put me down. Then Marie went over to her giant of a husband grabbed him by the shirt, lifted him over her head and physically threw him out of the room! She turned to me and said, "Baby, this will just take a minute." She went into the hall and proceeded to beat the crap out of her husband. She didn't use kung fu or karate. She simply overpowered this 6'8" Goliath with her hot 5'4" body and beat the ever-lovin' shit out of him using her vastly superior strength. When she was finished, his eyes were both black, his nose was broken, his mouth was bloody, and his face was purple and swollen. She told him to go downstairs and wait for her in the guest room. "Yes, Marie," was his obedient response to her instructions. Marie came back into her bedroom where I was sitting naked, frozen and bewildered. "I told you he was weak," she said to me. "Don't worry, he won't bother you anymore. By the way, those weights you saw in the gym""the ones that scared you so much""those don't belong to him. They belong to me." ************************************************ Steve was feeling pretty good about himself these days. Last night after his third date with Christina, he'd finally worked up the nerve to ask her to be his steady girlfriend. Thank God, she said yes. The high school senior had had a crush on Christina since they were both freshmen. Now they were both on the verge of graduating from high school, and they planned to attend the same college in the fall. From the time he first met her, Christina had always been his dream girl. She was so sweet and so pretty. She had a round, pretty face with the most captivating smile Steve had ever seen. Her body was also pleasingly round and soft but not fat. Christian had a flat stomach and a trim 23" waist. It was her full 35" hips and even fuller 34DD breast that gave her a soft, rounded, womanly appearance. And having recently turned eighteen, she was indeed now a woman. At 5'3" she was a perfect, cute little package of femininity as far as Steve was concerned. Through four years of high school, Steve had to watch his friend and secret crush Christina date one jerk after another. Like a lot of pretty, sweet, and even smart high school girls, it seemed like Christina always ended up going out with one loser creep after another. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she didn't have very good male role models in her life. After all, her two older brothers were the two biggest jerks in high school. Greg and Jeff were twins and one year older than Christina. Together and separately they epitomized the image of loudmouth, bully jocks. As far as Steve was concerned, the one good thing about Christina having these two brutes as her brothers was that sooner or later, Christina's boyfriends would always show up at school with black eyes or busted lips. Whenever this would happen, Steve would ask Christina what had happened. She was always vague about the details. She just told him that the boyfriend had tried to go too far. Steve figured out that when this happened, Christina turned to her older brothers for help. So even though Steve feared and didn't like Christina's bothers, he was grateful to them. They kept her from getting too involved with guys that were, ironically, a lot like them. Steve stayed close friends with Christina throughout high school until finally, she realized that her feeling for him were more than just friendship. That's when they finally started dating. Now, the day after Steve asked Christina to be his official sweetheart, he was on his way to her house to see her. It was a lovely spring Saturday, and Christina let him know the night before that her parents were going to be gone the entire day. Up until now, Steve and Christina had not done much more than kiss, but Steve was hopeful. He wasn't quite expecting that today they would go from go from making out to actual sex. On the other hand, he wasn't opposed to the idea either. However, Steve was willing to take things slow. He really loved Christina, and he didn't want to mess things up by moving too fast. Plus, he didn't want to do anything to impose the wrath of her older brothers. Greg and Jeff were both star athletes who managed to make it as starters on one of the country's leading college football teams even though they were mere freshmen. They were not identical twins so there was some difference in their appearance. Greg was slightly taller at 6'4". His body was hard and lean. Jeff was 6'1" but noticeably bulkier than his brother. They were both fast, fierce and formidable. When Steve knocked on the door to Christina's house, he was pleased when two minutes later his new girlfriend answered the door. She was wearing a green bikini top and cut off blue jean shorts. The bikini top showed off her incredible shape to perfection. She flashed her new boyfriend a radiant smile and said, "Come on in Steve!" Walking into the house, Christina said, "Excuse the way I'm dressed Steve. I was working out in the basement when you arrived." "Hey, don't apologize," Steve said, "You look absolutely great to me!" "Thank you, Sweetie!" she said. To be called "Sweetie" by the girl that he'd been in love with for four long years was enough to put Steve on cloud nine. "I was just finishing my workout; do you want to come and watch?" "I honestly cannot think of anything I'd rather do at the moment," answered Steve As the two lovebirds made their way down the stairs, Steve heard strange grunting sounds. When they reached the bottom, Steve could not believe his eyes. There were Greg and Jeff together both trying to lift the same barbell. It was loaded with more weight than any barbell Steve had ever seen. "What are you two sillies up to now?" Christina asked her brothers. Embarrassed, Greg said, "Nothing!" "Were the two of you trying to lift my weights again?" Christina asked. "Maybe," Jeff said evasively. "I wish you wouldn't do that, boys," she said with a look of concern, "I'm afraid you'll hurt yourselves. You boys know that you can't lift anywhere near as much weight as I can." "We can if we lift together," Greg claimed. "Yeah," Jeff agreed. "Now, boys," she said. "Well, we almost can," Greg said quietly. "Yeah, almost," Jeff added. "If you say so," Christina said in a voice that clearly communicated that she knew that they were lying and pitied them a little. Steve stood there watching this exchange in stunned silence. "We can!" Greg insisted. Christina treated her older brothers like an indulgent mother who had reached her limit. "Boys, stop this foolishness now. I know you find it embarrassing that your little sister is so much stronger than you, but I insist that you stop trying to lift my weights. Like I said, you'll hurt yourselves." "Oh yeah?" Jeff said, "Let's show her, Bro!" Together the two bulky athletes stood side by side both getting a tight grip the bar. "Ready?" Greg asked. "Ready!" Jeff answered. "On three!" Greg instructed. "ONE! TWO! THREE!" they counted off together. Then both star football players pulled with all their collective might. The muscles in their arms and legs strained mightily. They groaned, they grunted, sweat began to bead up over their impressively masculine bodies. They failed to lift the bar even one millimeter off the floor. "Are you two finished?" Christina asked with a slightly exasperated tone. The brothers crumple to the floor, exhausted, humiliated and beaten. They didn't answer their sister's question. As Steve watched, one question consumed his very soul. He turned to his petite, hot, sexy, feminine girlfriend and asked, "Can you really lift that much weight?" "That?" To answer his question, Christina casually went over and lifted the weight off the floor with one hand! Then she lifted it over her head, still with one hand, and began doing reps. After twenty-five reps with her right hand, she switched to her left and did twenty five more. "H-h-how much weight is that?" Steve asked. "Only 1,500 pounds," Christina giggled. Steve was understandably shocked by this turn of events. Christina suggested that they go to her room to discuss things. They sat next to each other on her bed. "Does it bother you to find out what a strong girl I am," Christiana asked her stunned boyfriend. "No . . . it doesn't bother me. In fact . . ." he wasn't sure he should say it, but Steve went for broke and admitted, "It really turns me on." "I'm glad," she said and placed her hand on his thigh. Just the touch of his strong girl sent a wave of heat over Steve's entire body. Then Steve asked, "All those guys over the years, the ones I thought your brothers beat up . . . ." "Oh, them . . . yeah, I was the one who beat them up. It was easy." "Why did you beat them up?" Steve asked. "Like I always told you, they tried to go too far." "Oh," Steve said his disappointment hard to hide. "Maybe I should explain something," Christina said, "I promised my parents when I was thirteen that I wouldn't "go all the way" until I was eighteen. And, Steve . . . ." "Yes, Christina." "I'm eighteen now. I'm also sweaty from my workout. I'm going to go take a shower; would you like to join me?" ************************************************* Email your comments tosonofjackwell@gmail.com It's always fun to get comments. Also, if you would like for me to write a CUSTOM STORY for you, email me atsonofjackwell@gmail.com