Heavy Muscle Showdown  (part one)
by supreme
The new female wrestling champion of the Spectrum Club wants to challenge the city's male champ.

Note: this story is a sequel to,  She Doesn't Bake Cookies!

Minutes after her incredible upset victory over Rambo Stone to win the heavyweight wrestling championship of the Spectrum Sports Club, Cora Jones appeared, freshly showered, perfumed, and clothed at the wine & cheese party, held in the club's reception room,  to congratulate the winner of the match.  Everyone had expected it would be the arrogant Rambo - who had reigned as the undefeated champ for three years - but he was still out cold from the beating Cora had given him, and on his way to the hospital with several broken ribs, caused by the crushing power of  Cora's bearhug.  The new champ had transformed herself.  In the wrestling pit she had been virtually naked, wearing only a skimpy snakeskin pattern bikini with no top, which showed off her awesomely muscled and curvy body of 225 pounds.  Now she was equally stunning, but in heels, jewelry, and sporting a skin-tight black mini-skirt which flaunted her killer-python thighs.  A sleeveless leopard-spot silk blouse, cut low in front to reveal much of her imposing bosom, showed off her powerful arms and shoulders. Although her sexy outfit flaunted her muscularity, it enhanced her femininity to the point where an observer could scarcely believe this chaming and seductive looking, mature woman, now pleasantly chatting with the other guests, was also the deadly wrestler who had forced the heavily muscled male champ to scream his submission to her on the mat.

Cora was the center of attention as her new fans crowded 'round, asking her what it was like, as a 64 year old grandmother(albeit one who looked under 40), to outwrestle a cocky young 23 year old male muscle-stud in a grueling match that had lasted almost an hour.  Cora was enjoying herself.   She knew she had earned this.  She had pumped heavy iron for years, and learned the painful skills of the martial arts, and now felt a tremendous sense of accomplishment.  She also felt something else. Like many of the people in the room, she had been sexually aroused by the match; the close physical contact with the muscular Rambo,  and her gradual overpowering of him,  had given her a burning case of muscle-lust. If she hadn't so completely destroyed him, she would have raped him in the middle of the wrestling pit!  She was ready to jump any good-looking man in the room. God, I'm so horny! I'll just have to take one of these young hunks home with me; his girlfriend or wife can just tough it! she vowed.

She noticed that everyone who wasn't talking to her was now looking up at the huge Sony TV mounted in a corner;  it was playing the video of the match.  Watching herself outwrestling the cocky male champ was making her wet all over again, and she noticed many other people, women and men, were similarly affected.  Still, she enjoyed all the attention and compliments she was getting and the club did serve excellent wine.  Time seemed to fly by. Cora selected her man - a handsome, blonde swimmer who had just missed qualifying for the U.S. Olympic team - and agressively pulled him away from his girlfriend, who was outraged but too frightened of Cora to protest. The hunk himself seemed intimidated, but willing, and soon both he and Cora were standing so close her ample bosom was brushing, ever so delightfully, against his big, manly chest as they flirted.

 Having replayed parts of Cora's match several times, someone switched the television on ESPN.  Although it was time to take her young stallion home and mount him,  Cora wanted to see what everybody was looking at on the tube.  It was an exhibition in heavyweight men's bodybuilding called, Big Boys at the Beach, and was being broadcast from Miami's South Beach.  The massive finalists were on-stage for the last pose-down, pumping and flexing their huge, brightly oiled muscles in their tiny bikinis.  The whole thing reeked of testosterone and muscle-male prowess.  "OOOhhh, they're gorgeous!" one of the female TV watchers squealed.  She's right, Cora thought.  God, I'd love to wrestle one of those guys!  Especially the guy in the middle...jesus he's built like a brick shithouse!  Cora recognized him, but couldn't place him, her recall dulled by her well-earned wine.  "Hey, who's the hunk who just won first place, the guy getting the trophy?" she asked aloud.  "That's Tony Demille," replied Sylvia, one of Cora's new fans, "He's from here, y'know.  The head trainer at the Uptown Club. "  The Uptown Club was another "high-end" sports club, not quite as exclusive as the Spectrum, but considerably larger in membership. Cora remembered  Tony  now.  He was also the city heavyweight bodybuilding and wrestling champ, a true macho stud.  "He really likes to show-off, doesn't he?" Cora observed.  "Yeah, but just look at his butt, mmmmmmmm, yummy!" drooled a younger woman who was ogling Tony's TV performance, which was pretty outlandish.

 The handsome young hunk was whirling and dancing on stage, his huge muscles rippling, clad only in a turquoise posing brief that was little more than a pouch for his imposing manhood, and formed a perfect, skin tight envelope for his well-defined buns. The camera kept zooming in on his stretched-to-the-max bikini, giving the females tantalizing closeups of Tony's big, curving snake, clearly outlined in the thin lycra, as well as his butt, which really seemed to excite the women.

"You're not thinking about challenging him, are you?" The club manager, James Watley, was looking at Cora in his usual skeptical way. He had tried to prevent her from wrestling Rambo, but had to back off when the outraged musclewoman threatened to file a lawsuit against both the club and himself.  "He's a real heavyweight.  Makes Rambo look puny.  He was a nationally ranked wrestler in college and almost medalled in the last Olympics."

Cora already knew about Tony "Gladiator" Demille.  She had attended one of his matches a couple of years back.  He was even more arrogant and brutal than Rambo, but Cora had to admit she got a secret thrill watching him dominate and demolish his opponent.   He liked to call himself, Gladiator, even affecting the oiled hair and short top-knot worn by the ancient Roman swordsmen in their bloody arenas.  When he finished beating up his unfortunate victims, who were usually unconscious,  he grabbed them by their heels and dragged them around the ring a couple of times to celebrate another victory. "I don't have a chariot to pull 'em with, so I do it myself!" he often boasted.  At 5'11", 255 pounds, he was considerably heavier and more muscular than the ex-Spectrum Club champ, and outweighed Cora by at least 30 pounds.  She had toyed with the idea of challenging him instead of Rambo, but knew she wasn't in his league.  At least not yet, she mused.  But what if I got REALLY big?

As she continued to admire the muscle-hunk strutting and flexing for the adoring crowd, Cora drifted into a vision. A vision of  her, on-stage in a tiny posing bikini, topless, her massive bronzed and oiled physique pumped with power,  her awesome muscles swollen to enormous size, her thighs almost exploding,  gleaming  in the bright lights. Stepping lightly, proudly, before a cheering crowd, glorying in her massive, nearly naked body, exuding raw power...and sensuality.  She was going head to head with the male contenders, the same big brutes she was watching now, competing directly against them for the heavyweight bodybuilding crown.  It was the final pose-down.  As they lined up shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh on the stage she was out-pumping, out-flexing, out-muscling them all.  She could see the looks of amazement...and fear on their faces...and hear the roar of the crowd...chanting her name...she was side by side with big Tony, matching him muscle for muscle... the emcee was announcing the winner, "Our new heavyweight bodybuilding champion is... "

Cora snapped out of her reverie. She was so aroused she had to have the young stud she had stolen immediately.  She took him home with her and forced him to pleasure her until he passed out from exhaustion, yet she was still on the erotic edge. She kept returning to her vision.  It's gotta be! she thought.  I am going to make it happen!  She was back at the Spectrum Club when it opened at 5:30a.m., ready for a heavy muscle workout.

In the days and weeks that followed Cora focussed on bulking up to her natural size limits.  At 5'8," 225 pounds she was already massive, rivaling many male bodybuilders in bulk and definition, and clearly superior to most men in her weight class.  And her thighs!  Truly huge, and rippling with muscle,  there were very few, even among male world class heavyweight bodybuilders,  who could match her.   But Cora wanted more.
 
She pumped unbelievable amounts of iron. Clad in sexy spandex shorts and sports-bra - often surrounded by a small crowd of admirers as she did set after set with dumbells and barbells - she dominated the free weights area of the club.  Her efforts started to pay off.  Her weight slowly increased, 228...233...239.  She was getting huge.  Her traps started to resemble the Texas She-Hulk's, Betty Pariso's,  and her biceps grew almost a full inch, from 18 to 19.

But still, she wanted more.  She knew that a growing number of female bodybuilders wanted to take on the men. A few brave observers of the bodybuilding scene had dared to point out that some of the best female competitors had achieved muscle parity with them.  In mixed posing, it was no longer unheard of for the musclewoman to actually be bigger, heavier and more ripped than her male partner. In fact, the male bodybuilders had tried to ban mixed posing, because more and more often, the musclewoman made the muscleman look puny.  So why not? Cora knew she wanted to go up against the big boys, and not just in a dream. To be the first woman to challenge men in heavyweight bodybuilding would be something, especially for a "mature" woman.  As for Gladiator,  she wanted his city bodybuilding title.  She wanted his city wrestling title.  She also wanted him.

In the meantime, she defended her championship of the Spectrum Club twice.  The first match was against Derrick Tanner.  Tanner was a big 235 pound ex-football player who had taken up bodybuilding and was incensed that a woman was now the club wrestling champ.  He had not seen the Cora-Rambo match and frequently shot his mouth off,  belittling the new champ's wrestling abilities.  Wearing a skimpy black speedo, he stepped out onto the mat to face Cora, who was in her trademark snakeskin pattern lycra bikini, topless as usual. He spread his legs and flexed his large biceps, hoping to intimidate the lady champion.  Cora was not impressed.  She moved in and started taking him apart as soon as the bell rang.  The poor guy never knew what hit him.  Within five minutes Cora had him tied up and stretched out on the mat, his body flopping like a dying fish, his head swallowed in the musclewoman's massive thighs, his arms  pulling desperately at them as she cut off his oxygen supply.  Soon he was in dreamland.  Cora had K.O.'d him. After having her arm again raised in victory by the ref, she obligingly pulled his limp body off the mat, draped him over her broad left shoulder and carried him back to his dressing room. "Don't want anybody to trip over him!" she laughed.

Her second match was more interesting.  A handsome young college wrestler, 20 year old Tommy, was the son of Sherma Ross, one the club's wealthy female members who had begun emulating Cora, pumping iron and packing on some serious muscle.  When Tommy, home for the summer, noticed his  mom, a pretty 44 yr old brunette,  had developed a physique that was coming close to rivaling his,  he was intrigued, and she told him about Cora's exploits.  He asked to workout with Cora, and a friendly, even flirtatious rivalry developed.  They were obviously attracted to each other, despite the age difference. One day when they were doing dumbell curls side by side Cora asked, "So how 'bout a friendly match, Tommy?  Or are you afraid you'll be outwrestled by an old lady?"  Confident of his own superiority, Tommy didn't take the strongwoman seriously, but agreed to the match.

He was rudely surprised.  Considerably lighter, at 205, than the much older musclewoman, Tommy was an extremely skilled grappler, and with a college-stud's hunky body, made a very pleasing impression on the female spectators, especially since he was wrestling in a red and yellow striped lycra bikini that flaunted his powerful legs and tush.  But, in a long, tough, and exciting contest, both wrestlers fought evenly until Cora's stamina, along with her 34 pound weight advantage,  proved superior. The audience watched in awe as Cora first broke away from Tommy's holds, then began wearing him down with her massive muscles and bodyweight.  The arena grew silent and the action slowed as the big older woman, her huge boulder sized shoulders rippling with power, gradually subdued the tiring college man,  establishing total control,  pushing and maneuvering him all over the mat.  After 40 minutes she was firmly on top, spreadeagling her struggling opponent in a combination body-pin and grapevine. Her big legs coiled around the now frightened man's like two thick, rippling snakes and her powerful hands had an unbreakable grip around his wrists, pressing his arms down into the canvas of the mat.  Completely exhausted, Tommy finally submitted.  It had been a rough but clean fight, with no fouls on either side.  Cora helped her handsome, beaten foe to his feet and everyone noticed that the two wrestlers continued to stand close together, their big, almost naked bodies brushing as Tommy chivalrously acknowledged his defeat by entwining his arm around Cora's massive python and raising it, as he presented her to the applauding crowd as the victor. Then the two rivals did something opponents seldom do - they kissed each other, long, slow and very deeply. "I've always had a thing for younger men!" Cora laughed. They went home together, and  Tommy became Cora's boytoy until he went back to college the next fall.  They enjoyed wrestling each other, both as a workout and as  foreplay to sex.

Tommy's mother,  good friends with Cora, found it amusing that an older woman was having such an intimate physical relationship with her gorgeous young son.  But secretly, Sherma was aroused, as well as a bit jealous. She had enjoyed watching the match between the two.  In fact, when she noticed her son's big, snake-like cock, fully outlined by the thin restraining fabric of his sexy bikini, actually touch and lightly brush against the musclewoman's pubic mound(which was protected only by an equally thin lycra bikini) as they shook hands before the match, Sherma got excited, and stayed excited as the match progressed, breaking  into a sweat. She felt guilty, but then noticed that most of the women in the audience had reached the same physical state she was in, grunting and moaning as they watched the wrestlers struggle on the mat.  The more she thought about her son, the more she found herself thinking forbidden thoughts. When Sherma - who was getting noticeably brawnier and heavier(she was up to 190) every week - said goodbye to her son as he left for school, she shocked the young hunk by giving him a long, slow, wet, kiss with a lot of tongue, then warning him, "When you get back your mom is going to wrestle you, and win!"

Cora also enjoyed the services of another good looking man, the club masseur, Fernando Lemond.  One of her perks as club wrestling champion was free massages.  Cora developed a very close relationship with the 29 year old Frenchman, who had competed as a middle-weight bodybuilder in Europe before emigrating to the U.S.. He still had a killer bod, lots of Gallic charm, and was very popular among the club's female members.  Fernando massaged his lady clients wearing only a French tri-color bikini, and was said to earn  $500 tips for the "extras" he offered, which could include bringing a stressed out matron to total physical, including sexual, ecstasy with his fingers and tongue.  Cora received this service on several occasions.  And each time,  as the big masseur straddled her naked body with his powerful legs and delicately worked his erotic magic on her breasts, buns,  labia and clit, the husky older woman moaned out, "Ohhhhhhhhhh yessssssssss, Fer-NAN-DO !  That feels soooooooooooooo good ! You know, sweetie, you're about the only man who can make me work up a really good sweat!  I never get this wet when I'm wrestling!"

One day as he was giving Cora a sensual oil rub-down after a hard weight workout, Fernando asked, "So, Ms. Jones, I've heard the other ladies saying you want to wrestle the Gladiator, yes?"
The big strongwoman smiled, "Well...the thought had crossed my mind..." But first she had to get where she wanted to be, size-wise.

to be continued