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Muscular Women: Written by my wife

May 06, 2020 - permalink
Short "fiction" piece from my wife for the book Backstories. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/916676  Let me know if you'd like to see a little more.
         Social constructs say that it’s okay for a woman to get fit and want to change the way her body looks, but not get strong. There was a certain misogyny at the gym and an expectation that women either shouldn’t be there, or should be ancillary. But I always wanted to be powerful and strong. And I didn’t care. Strength and muscle is supposed to be associated with masculinity, but for me nothing was more sensual than muscle and power on a woman. I wish that the idea of femininity wasn’t round, soft, small, and weak. But in the end, it didn’t matter, I was going to get strong whether society liked it or not.

          The idea that I could get stronger than an average man grew as I did. When I first started lifting, that idea never entered my mind. But as I became comfortable at the gym and with weights, more and more I would lift next to the men. Not a lot of women sought out the squat rack, but early on, I began to measure my success by how much I could squat. Sure, women were working on their legs and most notably, their asses. But for many, “the rack,” as it was called, was intimidating.

   I remember lifting next to a guy who had already started. I didn’t intend to outfit him, but as I began to add more weight, I noticed I was coming close. Yes, I’m competitive and yes, I tried to lift more than he did. He gave me a good-natured smile as he left and I had passed his max squat. That wasn’t always the response. I’ve had men leave once they see how much weight I lift. Today, when I see a woman lifting a lot of weight at the squat rack, I stop and watch. I love to see any woman out lift a man. Not because I want men to feel badly, but because we can and it feels good to step outside the social facade of what a woman can do.

   That’s how it started but once I began to lift more and realized I could push the limits, something clicked and I became obsessed with getting stronger. It was no longer a game, it was a need, like I had struck a nerve I didn’t know I had. This is the time I also decided I wanted to lift more than Rick. Not just any man, but an athletic man who I knew worked out. While Rick was away I was going to do everything I could to close the gap.

                                                                                                  *   *   *
May 09, 2020 - permalink
  While he was a away I was uber focused. Eating, lifting, cardio - my mission was to get bigger, stronger, faster, and more cut. The long exception to my focus was my monthly girls night out. A bit tipsy when I went home after I checked on Lyndsey and paid the babysitter, I went into my room still feeling the buzz. Tossing my keys on the dresser, I began unbuttoning my top my skin tingling. I caught a glance at my shoulder and my biceps in the full-length mirror by the closet. Remembering now how the girls had reacted to my muscle, I smiled a little. My shoulder were flaring and my arms, even unpumped, seemed so have gotten much bigger. I gave a little flex and saw what the girls had seen…mmmmm.. I stroked the peak with my other hand and felt a pronounced split. Maybe I’d grown a bit more than I realized of late. I reached up and took the clip that held my hair piled up loose in back and let it down. I shook the waves loose. BOOM, God I felt super sexy and powerful. I knew I had gotten stronger and bigger, but now with my buzz still raging I took more notice of what the girls had seen.  I began unbuttoning my top, slowly and sexily and watched my biceps and forearms. Yes, maybe, I was a bit turned on by myself, but I didn’t care. In fact, let’s be honest, I was completely aroused by my body.

   “Alexa, play Geronimo by Aura Dione” I called. The song began and I threw my blouse across the room and began swaying to the music fingering my six-pack abs. Suddenly, I remembered Lyndsey asleep in the next room. I ran to the door and closed it so she wouldn’t hear the music and walk in on mommy. I smiled at averting the potential emergency and then returned to the mirror. I resumed swaying again and slowly unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it. Watching my thigh muscles clench and unclench with the movement turned me on even more. I felt the wetness in my thong and I swayed my shoulders back and forth while my hands explored my muscularity. I twirled and raised my hands above my head, watching my ab muscles move with the effort. Finally, as the song reached the chorus, Gee, Gee ah Jojo Geronimo, I removed my bra and began to flex topless. Since I wasn’t dieted down as much as normal, my breasts were nice and full. I circled my nipples and chills ran through my body. I flexed my pecs like I’d seen bodybuilders do on the internet and marveled at how I could move them. God, I looked good, the definition in my biceps, the shoulders, the pecs. I cupped my bicep with my hand and felt its tremendous size and hardness. I took it all in and loved what I was seeing and growing hornier by the second.

   Wanting to watch my muscles work, I dropped to the floor and began to do some push-ups slowly. I eyed the striations in my shoulders and the pronounced divots in my triceps while my arousal continued to boil. I pledged to myself to continue pumping until the chorus resumed. When it did, I collapsed, red faced and laughed at myself for doing a drunk workout while still in my heels. Getting up to view the effects of the work, my redness and pump only fueled my arousal further.

   Eventually, as the song began to repeat the desire to take care of myself became overwhelming.  I played with the thong, pulled on it, and then slipped my hand along the side of it and felt the wetness with my fingertips. Looking down I saw that I still had my heels on so I turned around part way and noticed my favorite body part, my ass. Peering over my enormous shoulder I saw my hair reaching down almost to the small of my back, almost pointing to it. Though it hid my Christmas tree that I’d worked so hard to attain, the way it framed my granite hard glutes helped accentuated the muscle. My ass was so hard with divots on the side and I always admired its shapely and yes even slightly heart shaped appearance. I made a note to wear my new jeggings which accentuated it to Lyndsey’s Back to School Night on Tuesday evening. I spread my legs wide and went into a crouch marveling at my body’s muscularity and the distinct lines that ran down my legs and how my rounded butt swept into my hamstrings. The music took hold of me and I continued to move and stroke myself. I was dancing like a stripper, but flexing like a bodybuilder.
Jun 29, 2020 - permalink
I LOVE this story!!!
Jul 11, 2020 - permalink
Is there more? This was incredible!
Jul 23, 2020 - permalink
Thank you for the compliments. I'm working on a non-fiction book about muscular women and their admirers. In the author's section I added a bit more to the story and may continue after I'm finished with the book. Here are the chapters for the upcoming book:
Chapter 1: Reflections from the Men
Chapter 2: Reflections from the Women
Chapter 3: FMG Authors and Artists
Chapter 4: Sessions: The Male Perspective
Chapter 5: Sessions: The Female Perspective
Chapter 6: The Industry
Chapter 7: Couples that Arm-Wrestle
Chapter 8: The Media
Chapter 9: True Beauty
Appendix A: Interviews with the Men
Appendix B: Interviews with the Women
Appendix C: Author’s Interviews
Appendix D: Session Experiences
Appendix E: “Sessionette Goddesses”
Appendix F: Relationship Interviews
Oct 10, 2020 - permalink
Thanks Brian - I think my wife might have posted more on her Deviant Art page - I'm not sure bc I dont go there tho ;)
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