Tag: clitoris

All I Want for Christmas is My Own Female Bodybuilder

All I want for Christmas is Dena Westerfield!
All I want for Christmas is Dena Westerfield!

They say the holidays can be a miserable time for people who’ve recently lost loved ones or are experiencing broken relationships. For the first time in his life, Darren can empathize with this. It’s been almost three months since he and his wife decided to separate. But the pain is no less fervent today than it was when it was happening.

Thankfully, Darren’s two children are spending the Christmas weekend with him together. Tonight, they saw a performance of “The Nutcracker” by a travelling ballet company. It was marvelous. His youngest, 8-year-old Heather, fell asleep during the last hour of the performance. His oldest, 12-year-old Marcus, stayed remarkably captivated the entire time.

Who knew he’d become an enlightened patron of the arts?

Clearly, he takes after his mother.

The thought of their mother, a smart and strong-willed woman whom he met in college, spending the holidays away from her family elicits melancholy feelings inside Darren’s mind. The kids haven’t quite adjusted to the “new normal” yet. Neither has he. But as their father, he must remain resilient in the face of emotional chaos. He’s trying his best, but he knows it’s not going to be easy.

With the time nearing 10:30 in the evening, Darren, Marcus, and Heather quickly stroll back to their car in the hopes they can make it home in time for “A Charlie Brown Christmas” to air for the third or fourth time that day. But as they leave the performing arts theatre, Darren spots out of the corner of his eye a large water fountain.

“Wow, will you look at that! Isn’t that something?” Darren remarks aloud.

“Dad, can we just get home? Charlie Brown is on at 11!” Marcus pleads.

Darren reaches into his pocket and takes out a shiny new quarter. He looks at it and thinks to himself whether he should make a wish or not. He decides he should. Heather is a few hundred paces away marveling at an impressive toy train set that apparently won first prize at the city-wide Christmas decorating contest.

“Just a moment. I want to do one simple thing before we go.” Darren approaches the fountain. It’s more than twenty feet tall and features two dancing angels at top. Beethoven’s 9th Symphony plays softly in the background. Occasionally, the fountain lights up and spews ice cold water thirty feet into the air. Impressive, indeed.

Coins in a fountain.
Coins in a fountain.

“What should I wish for?” Darren quietly asks himself. Wanting to get his mind off of his impending divorce, he thinks back to his days as a teenager ogling pictures of fitness women in bodybuilding magazines. He looks around to make sure his son and daughter (not to mention complete strangers who happen to be passing by) are not within earshot. They are not. So he places the quarter between his index finger and thumb and declares out loud:

“All I want for Christmas…is my own female bodybuilder!”

Marcus watches this unusual ceremony from a distance. He sees his father toss the quarter into the water, which makes a distinct plopping sound. Satisfied, Darren turns around and walks toward the parking lot.

“Alright, let’s get going! Charlie Brown is on in twenty-five minutes!”

“Woo hoo!” Heather cheers as she runs toward their minivan.

An hour later, Darren tucks his kids into bed and pours himself a glass of chardonnay. It’s Christmas Eve, which means tomorrow morning will be the day they enthusiastically open presents. He tries not to think about what the experience will be like with Samantha not in the picture. Oh well. That’s something for all of us to discover together, whether we like it or not.

Darren drains the wine, walks upstairs, takes a quick shower, and hops into bed.

At the stroke of 1:00 in the morning, Darren suddenly awakens. There is no sound, crash, or flash of lightning that prompts him to break from his peaceful slumber. But for whatever reason, he senses there’s something happening downstairs that needs his attention.

Double trouble: Brandi Mae Akers and Yvette Bova.
Double trouble: Brandi Mae Akers and Yvette Bova.

Does the cat need to be fed? Darren is pretty sure he remembered to put food in Laila’s dish before taking his shower. He peeks into Heather’s bedroom and sees Laila curled up underneath her bed. So that can’t be it! What the heck is going on?

Cautiously, Darren creeps downstairs and finds a baseball bat sitting around his sports-themed man cave. Darren doesn’t like guns, but he understands the importance of protecting his family from harm. Once he gets to the ground floor, he peruses around the kitchen to see if the glass door has been opened. It’s not.

“What the hell am I doing down here? I’m being paranoid…” he mutters.

Just then, Darren hears what sounds like paper rustling in the living room. He glides toward the location of the abrupt noise with the baseball bat perched over his left shoulder. Like a ninja stalking an unsuspecting victim, he switches on the light and looks around the room.

“Hello, darling,” a sensual voice calls out.

It takes a moment for Darren’s eyes to adjust to the light, but when they do he sees a surprising sight that makes him drop the baseball bat to the floor.

Lying on the ground underneath the Christmas tree is a gorgeous naked muscular woman.

“Uh, what the fuck is happening here? Who the hell are you?” Darren demands.

The woman remains on the floor, massaging her enormous calves against a candy cane dangling from a low-hanging tree branch. While shocked that a complete stranger would mysteriously find her way into his house, Darren feels an uncontrollable spark of sexual desire rise up inside him.

Sensually and like a hazy dream, the woman stands up and approaches Darren. Sure enough, she’s as ripped as any woman he’s ever seen. Standing at a modest 5’6”, the woman is covered from head to toe with large bulging muscles. Her chest as wide as a truck, shoulders as broad as a cruise ship, arms as thick as coconuts, and legs as round as watermelons, she’s incredibly muscular but gorgeous and feminine at the same time. Her breasts are flat, but nothing else about her could be described that way. Darren looks down at her clit and nearly suffers cardiac arrest from regarding its sheer size.

“I’m your wish. That’s who I am,” the woman responds.

“My wish?” Darren asks. He’s asking himself this question just as much as he’s asking her.

“Yes. You remember the wish you made at the water fountain? I’m your wish incarnate. I’m not real, but for the next hour I will be as real as chestnuts roasting on an open fire.” The woman sashays around the living room and flexes her gigantic muscles for him. Double biceps. Abs. Side pose. Hamstrings. She then flexes her glutes up and down, prompting Darren to collapse on the couch. What the fuck is this? Is this real?

“What’s your name?” He asks.

“My name is Morgan.”

Darren sits up straight and removes his old high school debate team tee-shirt. Morgan smirks at his impulsive decision to not ask questions and just go with the flow.

“Well, Morgan,” he begins. “Let’s not waste a single moment, shall we?”

He stands up and kisses Morgan on the lips. He reaches down and feels her rock hard body. Morgan squats down and pulls his underwear toward his ankles. As nude as she is, Darren caresses her firm butt as she stands back up. The feeling of her sturdy glutes is enough to wake up his manhood. The Mystery Woman notices this, squats back down, and covers him with her mouth.

May I unwrap Denise Masino now?
May I unwrap Denise Masino now?

“Oh, baby…the things you do to me…”

A gentle snowfall commences outside the comfortable confines of the crispy household. It hasn’t snowed in this area in fifteen years. Yet Darren doesn’t notice this historic feat. He’s too busy feeling up Morgan’s rock hard pecs to give a damn about what’s happening outdoors.

Morgan licks the underside of Darren’s penis as she continues to deep throat him. Not wanting to burst too soon, Darren gently moves his pelvis away from her face and wrestles her to the ground.

“You want to play rough? I can do that!” Morgan declares.

She grabs Darren’s wrists and pins him to the floor. His erect manhood pokes her in the belly. He swears he can feel the tip of his penis brush between the grooves of her six-pack abdomen. A soft moan escapes from his throat. Morgan then wraps her strong arms around him and gives him a powerful bear hug that pushes all the air out of his lungs. Unable to breathe, Morgan interlocks her strong legs around Darren’s legs and squeezes tightly. He struggles to catch his breath but is helplessly distracted by the feeling of her bowling ball calves pressed against his ankles.

“Do you like that?” Morgan asks. Darren mumbles something unintelligible. “Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you!”

Morgan cackles and mercifully releases Darren from her oppressive embrace. She carelessly tosses him to the side like a rag doll and sits up against the couch. Darren rolls around for a bit and tries to catch his breath. He smiles and immediately stands up and picks her up off the floor.

“My turn to be in charge!”

A much stronger fellow than you’d expect, Darren slings Morgan over his right shoulder and slaps her on the butt. Her muscular glutes jiggle wildly in response. Morgan giggles in return.

Never in his life has Darren ever carried a woman who weighs so much. It’s definitely true that muscle weighs more than fat! He walks over to the far side of the living room and lays her down on top of a fluffy white shag rug. Morgan doesn’t resist. He wants to be on top and to end this the right way. Darren smooths his hands over Morgan’s tree trunk thighs and admires her gorgeous muscular physique.

“Oh my God. So beautiful. You’re huge and strong and absolutely gorgeous,” he says. Morgan suggestively opens her legs out wide and exposes her freakishly large clitoris. Darren gasps and nearly falls backward. Even though he’s seen it before, the shock of seeing it again doesn’t change his reaction one bit.

“Holy shit. It’s so big. So damn big.”

Morgan pinches her engorged endowment with her fingers and strokes it up and down. Initial waves of pleasure sweep through her body. Darren has moved on to caressing her calves but has not stopped staring at her enormous clit. Is it possible for a woman’s clit to get that large?

“Enough of this. Go ahead. Take a closer look!” Morgan stops stroking herself and enjoys the feeling of the soft rug tickling her hard leathery skin. Taking the hint, Darren gets down on his belly and inspects her impossibly large clit. Resembling a very little penis, Darren licks the sensitive head with a soft flick of his tongue. Morgan lets out an audible moan.

Tina Nguyen in triplicate.
Tina Nguyen in triplicate.

Empowered to go further, Darren encloses his lips around her erect shaft and sucks with delight. Morgan pinches her own nipples to enhance her experience. Her eyes closed, she wiggles on the floor with delight as Darren orally please her. Darren, meanwhile, doesn’t care if his kids can hear them fooling around next to the Christmas tree. As far as he’s concerned, Christmas has come early, no pun intended.

“Oooooohhhhhh, that’s it baby. That’s the way mama likes it…”

He knows she’s close by the sudden jerking of her pelvis. But he doesn’t stop and relentlessly presses his lips securely around her clit as he moves his head back and forth.

“Fuuuuuuccckkkkkkk!” Morgan screams at the top of her lungs.

Morgan comes, shockwaves of pleasure screaming throughout her entire body. She groans and keeps her eyes closed. Darren’s mouth is exhausted but he doesn’t relent until she stops writhing.

A brief moment later, Morgan opens her eyes and attacks Darren’s mouth by kissing him deeper than he’s ever been kissed before. She can taste her own juices dripping from his upper lip. Darren’s erection is now resting on top of Morgan’s left kneecap. She pushes her tongue inside his mouth and invades him. He counters by wrestling his tongue against hers. Having regained her concentration, Morgan pushes Darren backward and jumps on top of him.

“You just pleased me, now I’m going to please you.” Not complaining one bit, Darren lifts up her small breasts and lightly pinches her erect nipples. Methodically, Morgan lowers herself over his erection and allows him to penetrate her. Now, it’s Darren’s turn to moan. Like a cowgirl riding her prized stallion, Morgan bounces up and down with reckless abandon. Darren wants to keep his eyes focused on her pretty face but cannot. He shuts his eyelids tightly as she rides him with delight.

The snowfall outside is still going strong, even though Darren senses he won’t last nearly as long. Morgan deliberately moves up and down him by positioning her strong legs in a power squat stance. He knows he’s going to come. She also knows that she’s about to come again.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” Morgan whispers to the Heavens.

“Ahhh, yeah!” Darren groans and empties himself into her. Morgan climaxes for the second time and rides him until her orgasm subsides completely. She falls on top of him and listens to his heart beating rapidly. Darren licks her bicep peak. She flexes to make sure it gets as hard as humanly possible. He removes his limp penis from her vagina and kisses her chest. Before he could suck on her nipples, Darren hears footsteps coming down the stairs.

Who wouldn't want to find a gorgeous female bodybuilder underneath your Christmas tree?
Who wouldn’t want to find a gorgeous female bodybuilder underneath your Christmas tree?

“Oh no!” Darren looks up to see if his two kids have been woken up by their noisy coupling and are rushing downstairs to investigate. But Morgan puts a stop to that nonsense and turns his head toward her face. She looks deeply into his eyes and kisses him on the cheek.

“It’s time to open presents,” she says. Suddenly, Darren wakes up and finds Heather, Marcus, and the cat jumping on his bed. He looks at his bedside clock and sees the time is 8:45 in the morning.

“Daddy! I said it’s time to open presents! Come on!” Heather leaps from the bed and races downstairs toward the Christmas tree. Marcus and the feline follow suit. Darren, groggy and still sleepy, sits up and looks out the window. Much to his surprise, he sees a remarkably burly woman dressed in a winter parka approaching his doorstep.

Darren gets out of bed and takes a closer look out the window. He wipes the fog on the glass with his sleeve. His eyes almost pop out of his skull once he realizes who it is.

“Oh my God!”

The unexpected visitor strikes an uncanny resemblance to the mysteriously sexy Morgan character from his dream. As if knowing she was being watched from above, she peers up, smiles at him, and knocks on the door.

Bridgette – Midnight Rendezvous (part five)

A hot latte for a cold autumn season.
A hot latte for a cold autumn season.

Sipping on a cold vanilla latte, it’s been two hours since Sean left the party. He found a late night coffee stop several blocks away from the Convention Center and decided to stop in for a caffeine injection.

His vanilla latte tastes okay, but he wasn’t looking for taste. He was looking for a place to sit around until he can be reunited with Beautiful Bridgette. Their previous coupling didn’t drain the energy out of his system. On the contrary, it filled him with more passion than ever before. He craved to be with her again. Her musky smell. The feel of her taut skin. Her gorgeous face. Her rock hard muscles. He needed every inch of her. He felt like he could scream with frustration at not being able to be with her at this moment.

How is this possible? Is be becoming obsessed with her? Sean considers himself to be a reasonable man. He knows obsession can lead someone down a dangerous path. He has no desire to become someone like that; someone who lets their uncontrollable lust overpower them. Sean would like to think he’s more level-headed than that.

He quickly glances at his phone. It says it’s 11:40 p.m. His battery is at 28 percent, just enough to last him for the rest of the night. He figures it will become dead at 2 a.m. or so. All he needs is to receive that magical text from her. That would make him the happiest man in the world.

Minutes pass. Sean finally finishes his bland latte. He tosses the paper cup into a nearby recycling bin. The grumpy old barista who’s working the graveyard shift smirks at Sean’s demonstration of environmental stewardship. Sean gives an obligatory smirk back. He decides to shift his attention away from Mr. Tattooed Barista and stares at the late night traffic. It’s surprisingly busy considering it’s nearly midnight. It must be attendees of the bodybuilding competition going home for the night. That must be it.

His phone then buzzes. His heart stops momentarily. He checks his phone. It’s a text. From Bridgette! It reads:

Hi darling! It’s me! I’m finally back in my room. You know which hotel. I’m in room 1245. Come on up! Can’t wait…lol

She’s right. He does know exactly which hotel she’s staying at. Sean doesn’t hesitate for a moment and skips out of the coffee shop to head toward his next destination. Her hotel room. He doesn’t quite know what to expect, but he’s certain he’ll treasure it for the rest of his life. The human mind has a funny way of remembering key moments. Sometimes, it’s the anticipation of a momentous event you remember more than the actual event itself. Perhaps this is one of those instances. Or not.

Moments later, Sean is strolling into a quiet hotel lobby. He seeks out the elevators as inconspicuously as possible. He eyes a row of metal doors and speed walks to it. He pushes “up” and waits. The doors open. He allows a flood of drunken tourists to pour out. As loud and obnoxious as college kids on spring break, he’s glad to walk inside and have the elevator all to himself. He pushes “12” and watches the doors close in front of him. He arrives on the 12th floor faster than he’d expected. Whoa! These elevators travel up really damn fast. Sean is genuinely impressed.

A luxury hotel lobby.
A luxury hotel lobby.

Sean gets lost for a bit, but eventually finds room #1245. Butterflies are swarming inside his stomach. He can’t figure out why. Why is he still as nervous as a schoolboy to see her? It’s not like Bridgette is a total stranger. He knows her! But for whatever incomprehensible reason, he still feels anxious to meet her. It must be this unbreakable spell she’s cast over him. It’s forcing him to act irrationally. He knocks on the door. The door quickly opens.

“Hello. Good evening. Come on in,” Bridgette greets him. Dressed in sweatpants and an old workout undershirt, Bridgette looks as though she’s just showered. Wearing no makeup and none of the elegance she exhibited earlier in the evening, Bridgette still remains as beautiful as ever. She’s dazzling to behold. Her white undershirt generously shows off her muscles. Sean sees a travel-friendly pull up bar set up on the far side of the room.

“I’ve been doing pull ups for the past 20 minutes before you got here. Today is back day for me, but I haven’t had time to get to a gym because of all the bullshit I had to get done earlier,” Bridgette says. Sean notices the sweat dripping down her flawless face. He removes his shoes, jacket and places his phone, wallet and keys on top of a maple wood credenza. Bridgette leaps up, grabs the pull up bar, and astonishingly busts out 15 repetitions before plopping down back on her feet. Sean feels a tingling sensation dance through his system.

“How on earth can you do that?” Sean’s legs quiver underneath him. He isn’t sure if he’ll be able to stand up straight for much longer.

“Practice makes perfect, right?” Bridgette grabs a white towel off the credenza and wipes a drip of sweat off her brow. She looks at Sean and knows she has him in her grip. Not one who frequently enjoys wielding power over people, Bridgette occasionally does get an adrenaline rush from maximizing her sexuality to her advantage. Throughout her adult life Bridgette has realized, not in a narcissistic way, her looks give her power over men (and women). She’s tried to remain humble, but that power can be intoxicating at times. She agrees that power is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

“Practice? More like hard work. You look incredible, Bridgette. But you already know that.”

“Please. I just got out of the shower. My hair is dripping wet and I haven’t an ounce of makeup on. I probably look like a disaster.” She leans in and kisses Sean. She catches him mid-breath, causing him to gasp. When their lips part, he places his hands on her curvy hips and strokes up and down.

“Stop it, Bridgette honey. You don’t look anything like a disaster. You look so…” She places her index finger against his lips. He hushes up. Bridgette suggestively sticks her finger inside Sean’s mouth and he obediently sucks on it.

“I’m kidding. Do you like how that tastes? What do I taste like?” She removes her finger from his mouth. He comes to her and nibbles on her earlobe.

“Sweet as honey.”

“I like that analogy.” Bridgette sits down on the bed and takes a drink of water from her water bottle. Sean plops himself down on a nearby chair. They say nothing for several moments.

“You don’t like crowds all that much, do you?” she inquires.

“I don’t. I’m not claustrophobic or anything. There’s something about big crowds that make me nervous. I feel like I don’t matter, that I’m just an ant marching up a hill along with millions of other ants. I cease to be an individual. Am I crazy for feeling that way?”

“No, not at all. I think I know what you mean.” Police sirens roar by. Bridgette takes another swig of her water.

“But you’re not in that situation. You were the center of attention. All eyes were on you, my dear.”

Bridgette spreads out across the bed and smothers her face into a pillow. “Yeah, which gets exhausting as hell. I love the spotlight, but not quite like that. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.” Sean jumps out of his chair and lands on top of Bridgette. He kisses her on the neck and caresses her massive quads. She strokes his hair.

Jill Rudison is ready for anything.
Jill Rudison is ready for anything.

“You mean you couldn’t wait to go outside with me and do it in front of all those people!” Sean gets bold and reaches into her panties and strokes her clit. It’s already engorged and moist. Bridgette not only allows him to do this, she gasps in response.

“Oh God! You’re getting frisky, Sean!” Pulling his fingers away from her cleft, Sean kisses her lips and lifts her dirty workout shirt off her and tosses it across the room.

“I was sure frisky with you on that balcony.”

“You sure were, dirty boy. I still can’t believe we did it out in public like that. What the fuck were we thinking?” Not to be outdone, Bridgette cups his balls and feels Sean’s erection. She begins to unzip his pants as he pinches her taut nipples.

“We weren’t thinking. That’s the point. We just did what we felt like.” Sean kicks off his pants and rips off his underwear. Bridgette pinches the base of his erection as Sean removes his shirt. Now completely nude, he seeks to make sure she becomes the same way.

“Are we doing the same thing?” Bridgette asks.

“Yes, except with a little bit more privacy,” he says. “Check that. A lot more privacy.”

“Indeed!”

Bridgette slips out of her sweatpants and removes her panties. She lobs them at Sean’s face and he smells it deeply, taking in her feminine musk. Sweet perfume, as far as he’s concerned. She playfully shoves Sean onto the bed and poses for him. Double biceps. Front lat spread. Side chest. Side triceps. Abdominal and thigh. He can clearly see every muscle fiber on her immaculate figure. She sure knows how to entertain a crowd!

“Flawless, dear Bridgette. Absolutely flawless. You are a spectacle to behold.” Sean feels his erection poke his bellybutton. That’s usually a sign he’s aroused far beyond normal. Bridgette definitely knows how to drive a man crazy.

“You haven’t seen a spectacle yet,” Bridgette warns. She sashays toward the light switch and turns it down to 25 percent. The room dims to a romantic dark orange glow. Bridgette then walks to the curtains and opens them wide, letting the bright moonlight flood the darkness. Sean makes his way toward her.

“What else do you have in mind?”

She turns around to face him.

“Let me show you.”

Bridgette swoops in and lifts Sean onto her shoulders. She playfully tosses him onto the bed and lets out an animalistic roar, loud enough for the entire floor of guests to hear. He laughs at her silliness, but quickly discovers she isn’t messing around. Bridgette jumps on the bed and mounts him. Wrapping her strong legs around his torso, she strokes his penis up and down and never breaks eye contact with him. Sean holds his breath in hopes of delaying his gratification. Like a hungry lion stalking its prey, Bridgette squats down onto Sean’s penis, allowing him to penetrate her. They share a collective moan at the moment of their intimate joining.

Unapologetic and as violent as he’s ever seen her, Bridgette rides him with a level of ferociousness that borders on maniacal. He knows he’s going to come faster than he’d like. Bridgette also senses her impending orgasm, and lowers herself to kiss him in hopes of postponing both of their climaxes for as long as possible.

Their lips meet. He bites her lower lip. She feels pain, but enjoys it. She returns the favor and bites his tongue. Sean tastes her sticky saliva but doesn’t mind it at all. They kiss once more before Bridgette’s final thrust fiercely pushes them both over the edge.

Sean groans as he empties himself into her. Bridgette also climaxes as her pelvic movements slow down methodically. He feels her vaginal walls contract powerfully around him. Bridgette, completely sapped of energy, collapses on top of him. They kiss again, this time deeper than before. She giggles. He exhales with satisfaction. Their first coupling of the evening comes to a glorious end.

A comfortable bed to sleep in...and do other things.
A comfortable bed to sleep in…and do other things.

Bridgette couldn’t remember if she drifted off to sleep, but she finally opens her eyes and looks at the bedside clock. It reads 1:45 a.m. She listens closely to Sean and decides he is quietly snoring. His snoring stops as he too awakens.

“I love you, Bridgette.”

“Sweeter words have never been spoken to me before,” she says.

The lovers fall asleep together again.

Two hours later, Sean wakes up to the sound of Bridgette flushing the toilet. He looks at the clock and notices it’s almost a quarter to 4. The night is still dark, perhaps at its darkest. There is enough moonlight to allow him to fully regard her striking beauty.

“God, you are amazing. A true goddess.” Sean sits up in the bed and stretches his arms. Still naked, Bridgette falls to the floor and does 50 pushups. Watching her exercise makes Sean’s heart skip a beat. His erection returns, much to his gratefulness.

“I’m just doing pushups, not summoning a storm or shooting lightning out of my fingers.” Bridgette sits up on the floor and mimics firing electrical bolts out of her hands. Sean pretends to get shocked and falls down on the floor next to her.

“You’ve got me, Goddess. I shouldn’t have displeased you!”

Sean feels the soft rug underneath his skin. “Wow. This is so damn soft. I could sleep down here if I have to.”

“You should. I don’t know where the hotel got it, but I definitely want to steal it.” Bridgette touches the rug with her bare skin and lets out a subtle sigh. She didn’t grow up from a wealthy family, so staying at these hotels is the closest she gets to experiencing the life of luxury. As a pro bodybuilder and part-time pornographic actress, she barely gets by paying her bills month to month. Sean doesn’t have that problem, but he sympathizes with her.

“Do it. I won’t tell anybody.” Sean licks the back of Bridgette’s neck and caresses her firm butt. She rolls to her side and flexes her left arm. Sean kisses her bicep peak. His erection pokes Bridgette in her belly, the tip of his penis bouncing off her six-pack abdomen. He inhales to keep control. Bridgette twists her body toward him and wraps her strong legs around his torso. She playfully squeezes, stealing his breath. Sean attempts to push her bowling ball calves out of the way but fails to counter her impressive strength.

“You’re not getting away that easily, I can tell you that!” Bridgette smiles. Sean can only smile back.

“I have no intention of going anywhere darling,” he says.

She mercifully releases him and spreads her legs out wide. Sean lays a trail of kisses that start at her feet – Sean isn’t a “feet” kind of guy, but he’s willing to change his mind! – and ends at her inner thigh. Sean still cannot believe how incredibly thick her quads are. He bets she could crush a watermelon between her legs if she wanted to. Odds are she’s done feats of strength like that before.

“Well, if you don’t plan on going anywhere, you might as well please me until I beg you to stop.” Bridgette’s innocent smile turns to a devilish grin. Sean knows exactly what she’s talking about.

Angela Salvagno being her usual sexy self.
Angela Salvagno being her usual sexy self.

Sean levels himself and places his fingers between Bridgette’s engorged clitoris. She lets out a modest moan in response to his touch. He dips down and places his entire mouth over her pubis region, his tongue meeting the ultrasensitive tip of her large feminine endowment. Sean purses his lips around her clit and strokes her as his tongue laps the head. He can sense her squirming uncontrollably. Her eyes are closed. She’s doing nothing but enjoying the gratifying sensations running through her entire body.

Bridgette can feel heat rising out of every pore. She doesn’t just feel pleasure; she feels an intense love for a man whom she met randomly on a street corner in the suburbs as part of her job. Memories of their first encounter and riding with him to the luxury condo where they filmed their love scene come flooding back like a tsunami. She’s about to come but her physical experience is the last thing that’s on her mind.

Sean intensifies his oral motions as he notices her writhing more. An audible gasp escapes from her lips just moments before she hits her satisfying climax. Wanting her to enjoy this moment like nothing else before, Sean jabs his tongue inside her throbbing vagina right before jerking her clit off with his fingers. Her meaty labia are slick with moisture. Bridgette raises her pelvis in anticipation of her climax.

Finally, she comes and her entire body shudders. She even releases an involuntary fart as her vaginal walls contract. Sean tries to suppress a giggle but cannot help himself. Minutes later, still basking in the glow of a satisfying orgasm, Bridgette sits up and kisses Sean’s lips – the same lips that gave her immeasurable pleasure just a few moments ago.

“Thank you lover.”

That’s all she can say. Sean doesn’t need her to say anything else.

Instead, Bridgette responds with actions instead of words. She picks up Sean like a rag doll and plops him onto the bed. Then she proceeds to put her mouth over his entire penis. She gently strokes his scrotum as she covers his entire manhood with her warm saliva. Sean looks up at the ceiling and tries to take it all in. He peers out the window and sees the full moon staring back at him. Like a werewolf eating its prey, Bridgette consumes his erection with reckless abandon.

As she laps her tongue around his sensitive endowment, Sean groans loudly. That’s the cue she needs to know he’s close. One last squeeze of his testicles does the trick, as she feels Sean’s penis contract up and down. His hot semen shoots into her mouth. Without being prompted, she generously swallows it all. Even more generously, she cleans up his deflating penis with her tongue and a tissue she finds on the credenza. She throws the smelly tissue into a trashcan. Bridgette doesn’t normally like the taste of semen, but as far as she’s concerned Sean’s juices taste like sweet dessert to cap off a romantic evening.

The time is now 4:18 a.m. Totally and utterly spent, Sean and Bridgette fall asleep into each other’s arms without a damn care in the world.

Big Clits and Little Penises

Melissa Dettwiller catching some much needed sunshine.
Melissa Dettwiller catching some much needed sunshine.

I love big clits.

Many female muscle fans also love big clits. We love big clits. There aren’t too many things in this world that excite us like the sight of a beautiful muscular woman with a large clitoris. As odd as this may sound, it actually makes quite a lot of sense once you start to think about it. I’ve written before about why muscular women with big clits are so fascinating, but it seems like the conversation has just gotten started.

Though analogous with the male penis, a woman’s clitoris is still without question an exclusively feminine organ. For most women, the clitoris is remarkably small and not easily visible. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t significant. On the contrary, the vast majority of the clitoris is actually located inside the woman’s body. While the medical research isn’t in complete agreement, the general consensus (if one exists) is that the base of the clitoris is what we would normally call a woman’s g-spot, an erogenous zone of the vagina that can lead to intense orgasms when properly stimulated. The head is what we see protruding underneath the clitoral hood.

Female bodybuilders who’ve taken drugs (for an extended period of time) that increase their testosterone levels often experience their clitorises growing in size. Fans of female bodybuilders may not know or be able to successfully pronounce the word “clitoromegaly,” but we certainly appreciate witnessing the result of it whenever we get the chance. I know I do!

This is why we cannot stop watching female muscle porn that involves us seeing close-up shots of great big clits. There’s a reason why Denise Masino, Angela Salvagno, Brandi Mae Akers, and Amber DeLuca are among my favorite FBBs of all time. All four of these women (as well as many others) not only are endowed with large clitorises, they are also not shy about showing them off to their voyeuristic fans. How lucky we are, indeed.

These ladies and others are not only willing to show off their clits for the camera, they’re also enthusiastic about masturbating it, pumping it with a clit pump, and allowing a partner (male or female) to suck it to the point of orgasm. They don’t just have large clits. They want us to know it. They want us to desire it. They want us to fantasize about it.

Roxie Rain showing us her pretty kitty.
Roxie Rain showing us her pretty kitty.

Well, it’s definitely an effective marketing strategy. They’ve got me hooked! Many of you probably are as well.

But what is it about a large clitoris that lures us in like a magic spell? Theories abound, but I think I know what’s so special about them. In a previous post titled The Bigger the Clit, the Happier We All Are (NSFW), I presented the argument that guys love female bodybuilders with big clits because a large clitoris symbolizes sexual independence, empowerment, and sovereignty. Skimming through this post again, I can’t say I disagree with anything I wrote. But let’s discuss this topic from a slightly different angle.

My original thesis is based upon the perspective of the female bodybuilder. From her point of view, her large clitoris is an outward expression of her sexuality. She isn’t a passive being who possesses a vagina that exists for the sole purpose of receiving a man’s penis during intercourse. This paradigm reinforces the idea that men are the ones who should initiate sex and that women are only there to oblige. This framework has existed for thousands of years and still lives on today. But times are changing. A female bodybuilder with a large clitoris, however, speeds up the process of society changing its perspective.

Her clitoris is a pro-active sexual organ that can give her orgasmic pleasure absent a man’s penis. In fact, the clitoris exists for no other reason than to give a woman pleasure. All women have clits, but most women’s clits are too small to be seen. Many women’s clits cannot be seen even when she’s fully aroused. That doesn’t mean it isn’t there, however. It’s there…it’s just that the majority of it exists inside her body, away from a casual glance.

For a female bodybuilder who’s well-endowed, her large clitoris is obvious for everyone to see. It can be stimulated to the point of orgasm just like a man’s penis. Rumor has it the clitoris is more sensitive than the penis, which perhaps gives women more pleasurable orgasms. I don’t know if this can be scientifically verified, but let’s assume there are at least a few grains of truth to this. Like the penis, the clitoris is a woman’s way of demonstrating that she is a sovereign sexual creature who can enjoy sex for purposes that have nothing to do with reproduction or pleasing a man. She can please herself anytime she wants to, even if she’s all by herself without a phallic object anywhere in sight.

Of course, you can't have a discussion about female bodybuilders and large clits unless the esteemed Denise Masino makes an appearance.
Of course, you can’t have a discussion about female bodybuilders and large clits unless the esteemed Denise Masino makes an appearance.

This theme of sexual independence is especially pronounced when we’re dealing with muscular women, who are in many respects the epitome of a “strong independent woman.” She’s strong and independent not in a fake pop culture-inspired quasi-empowerment sort of way, but in real and tangible terms. Her big clit punctuates the point that she can control her own destiny, whether it’s in the gym or in the bedroom.

As I mentioned before, this perspective assumes the beauty of a large clit from the point of view of the female bodybuilder. Another perspective that should be talked about is that of guys who love muscular women. What are some other reasons why they love big clits on big strong women?

One significant reason is that a big clit looks like a small penis.

Now, let’s back up for a moment. There exists the misconception that guys who love female bodybuilders are either secretly gay and refuse to admit it or have sexual preferences that are not totally 100% “straight,” however you define the term. I don’t think this is accurate. Also, I’m not saying that being gay is somehow a bad thing or something that one should be embarrassed about. Who you are is who you are, that’s what I say. The point I’m making is that many guys who love muscular women are completely heterosexual and wouldn’t have it any other way. Our love for muscular women is nothing more than an alternative preference that’s a bit far removed from the so-called “mainstream.” That’s it.

That being said, our association of a big clit with a small penis has nothing to do with latent homosexual preferences or anything of the sort. It has more to do with appreciating the accomplishments of female bodybuilders despite their physical limitations.

To illustrate this point, consider the concept of big muscles. Normally, we associate large muscularity and great strength with masculinity. Men have more testosterone in their bodies, which logically means they can build muscle faster. Combined with the fact that human males are naturally larger than human females, you can quickly see why we traditionally associate strength and muscles as being masculine traits. However, female bodybuilders don’t necessarily shatter these perceptions; instead they are prime examples that men do not have a monopoly on strength and muscularity.

Women are at a handicap but do not have to be defined by this handicap. We can think of hundreds of female bodybuilders, athletes, fitness enthusiasts, and gym rats who have strength and muscle mass that surpass many men. So for guys who love FBBs, we love them not because they’re women who look like men, but because they’re women who look like women…strong women to be exact.

Along the same wavelength, we love a big clit not because it looks like a small penis but because it almost is the same size as a small penis (in a manner of speaking) in spite of it being undeniably a clit.

Huh? What does this mean exactly?

Guys who love big clits on big muscular women love the fact these ladies possess a beautiful endowment that is unquestionably feminine yet powerfully autonomous at the same time. A big clit also symbolizes another truth that guys tend to like: No matter what, a man is still a man and a woman is still a woman.

For guys like us, a big clit is a stark reminder that no matter how big and burly a woman can get, there’s still a distinct separation between biological men and biological women. Even the smallest penis in the world (although I will admit I haven’t done a whole lot of research on what the world record is regarding the smallest penis in human history) is larger than the biggest clitoris in the world. At least, I’m assuming that to be true.

Thus, in a titillating way, even the weakest and most sexually insecure man can take comfort knowing he still possesses the larger endowment. She may have bigger muscles. She may be able to lift more at the gym. She’s more powerful, energetic, charismatic, intriguing, popular, motivated, and authoritative. Her clitoris may be larger-than-life and almost (but not quite) resembles a man’s penis. But a man is still a man. And she is still a woman. This isn’t an overtly sexist or misogynist observation, but instead one rooted in how men think of themselves with respects to women.

Desiree Ellis relaxing and spreading her legs wide. No big deal?
Desiree Ellis relaxing and spreading her legs wide. No big deal?

For men, genitalia are ultimately what separate us from the fairer sex. Though men are naturally stronger than women, as I’ve mentioned before, female bodybuilders are proof that biological construction is not an unbreakable barrier. No matter how insurmountable it may seem, a woman can definitely work hard enough to be stronger than many men. Not all men, but certainly she can earn a spot above the vast majority of men on the planet. Social status could also separate men from women, but those barriers are also being blurred as time marches on. So what’s left?

Here’s what’s left: what exists between our legs. Am I right?

Yes. The intrigue of a man seeing a female bodybuilder with a large clit is similar to the thrill of beating a little kid at pickup basketball. 10 years from now, that puny little kid may grow up to be more athletically gifted than you, but at this moment you’re the superior basketball player. This kid may even have the reputation of being a basketball prodigy. You might not have been good enough to play for your school’s junior varsity team. But you are a solid three to four years older and several inches taller, making you the better player as things stand right now. You love beating this kid at his own game even though you clearly have advantages that he does not.

Similarly, guys love seeing a female bodybuilder with a large clit because it reminds us of our masculine qualities. We know we’re supposed to have larger genitalia than women. And despite a few rare instances in recorded human history, men do have much larger genitals than women. Even women with enormous clits that are big enough to make your jaw drop to the floor. She has big muscles and an eye-popping endowment hanging between her legs, but you ultimately have the larger piece of meat when all is said and done.

For guys who are insecure about themselves (which is perfectly normal) this glaring reminder serves as a bit of psychological comfort. We’re still men. We don’t believe that possessing a penis makes us superior or that possessing a vagina makes you inferior, but deep down inside the recesses of our brains we know our genitals provide us a degree (whether it’s earned or completely unearned) of sexual vitality and strength.

An FBB could be bigger than us in almost every facet. Bigger biceps. Bigger triceps. Bigger chest. Bigger back. Bigger quads. Bigger shoulders. Bigger hamstrings. Bigger calves. Bigger glutes. More chiseled abs. Everything about her is bigger, stronger, and more dynamic. Except, of course…

You guessed it.

Her enlarged clit is a valiant effort. It’s a striking testament to the fact that even women can be “well hung” under certain circumstances. But not totally. Her clit is beautifully big and potent, but it ain’t what hangs between our legs. We got something that she doesn’t have and will never have. Even those of us who think we have smaller packages (because a lot of that is based on perceptions instead of reality) can lift our heads up high knowing not even the brawniest female bodybuilder can surpass us in one specific anatomical area.

So that’s what I mean when I say we love big clits because it resembles a penis. We love them not because they are penises, but because they resemble one. There’s a significant difference. A big clit may be a phallic-like organ that provides a woman orgasmic pleasure, but it still isn’t even close to being a penis. Not. Even. Close. Regardless of what trolls on the Internet or impressionable young kids Googling things for the first time may think, a big clit is not a penis. Sure, it sort of looks like a very small one, but that still doesn’t mean anything.

Autumn Raby enjoying a phallic object that isn't her own.
Autumn Raby enjoying a phallic object that isn’t her own.

Yet, they do indeed resemble a little penis. I am not here to deny that. A clit has a thick head, a narrower shaft, and is ultrasensitive to the touch. When stimulated it can produce an orgasm. So the comparison is apt and understandable. When we’re dealing with a female bodybuilder who’s blessed with a large endowment the comparisons become more apparent. But that doesn’t change a thing. We love big clits because at the end of the day, a clit is still an undeniably feminine organ, no matter how large in size it gets. I don’t think this point is even up for discussion, but that’s just me.

In a way, a big clit is similar to big muscles. We love female muscle not because it resembles male muscle; we love female muscle because it’s…muscles on a female. Muscles are neither male nor female. The only difference is which type of body they exist on. Likewise, we love big clits because we love beautiful-looking female genitalia. We love it because it’s feminine, not masculine. We love it because it accentuates the concept of women being independent sexual beings who deserve the delights of physical pleasure. We also love it because in a kinky kind of way, it reminds us men of our own sexual independence. Women have their stuff and so do men. But our stuff is bigger!

A common theme found within discussions about female bodybuilders and the men who love them is the degree to which muscles can break down social and biological barriers. Do muscles make a woman more masculine? Is becoming more masculine even a bad thing? Are men who love muscular women somehow abandoning their social status? Can muscles help a woman elevate her social status, or does it not make any difference at all? Are muscles the great equalizer, or do biological gender differences still act as a brick wall that distinctly separates men from women?

All of these questions are fascinating. I can spend years and decades pondering them. But this clearly illustrates one important reason why we love female muscle: Strong women don’t just lift up themselves. They lift up all of us!

Who is Your Fantasy Female Bodybuilder?

Tall, strong, and beautiful. That's Shawn Tan.
Tall, strong, and beautiful. That’s Shawn Tan.

I present to you a simple question: Who is your fantasy female bodybuilder?

The answer to this question isn’t necessarily your favorite FBB or the one you find to be the most beautiful. It’s the one you fantasize about the most often – whether you consciously choose to or not. Sometimes daydreams (especially of the erotic variety) have a way of popping into your head without you knowing it, you know what I mean?

So let’s provide a hypothetical scenario that you should consider for kicks and giggles:

You have a whole evening to spend with the female bodybuilder of your dreams. From 6:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. the next morning, you have twelve consecutive hours to spend with her. You can do whatever you want with her. Nothing is off limits. Of course, in this dream scenario she’s an enthusiastically willing participant. So you don’t have to worry about trying to impress her or capture her attention. You’ve already established that beforehand!

You can spend the evening doing whatever strikes your fancy. A romantic candlelit dinner complemented by an ice cold bottle of champagne can start the festivities. Or you could attend a concert together. Or the opera. Or an art museum. Or a BDSM dungeon. It doesn’t matter. It’s totally up to you what you do together with her.

Eventually, you’ll want to make love to her. Will it be slow and sensual? Or suave and romantic? Or dirty and kinky? Will it involve rose petals and fine wine? Or handcuffs and whips? Likewise, it’s totally up to your imagination. Anything is possible.

You can spend the whole evening caressing her gorgeous muscular body and making love to her, or you can choose to cuddle and fall asleep like two old lovers. You can be at an idyllic seaside resort, a snowy log cabin in the middle of the woods, or at a luxurious penthouse suite that sits several stories above the city. Or, if you’re into this sort of thing, you can be tied up in a secluded basement somewhere surrounded by hot candlewax, clothespins, and a blindfold.

Regardless of where your imagination takes you, you will enjoy the evening like nothing else had ever existed before it. You will enjoy the pleasure of her company, as will she enjoy yours. But once 6:00 a.m. rolls around, she instantaneously disappears and you are magically transformed back to your normal life – as if nothing had ever happened.

No consequences, no witnesses, no strings attached.

Just you and her. Nobody else. Threesomes may strike your fancy, but for the sake of this hypothetical situation, you can only choose one female bodybuilder to spend the evening with for twelve glorious erotic hours.

So…who do you got?

For me, this is a tough one. There are so many gorgeous female bodybuilders in this world of all shapes, sizes, ethnicities, nationalities, and personalities that it’s way too difficult to choose one I would want to spend an entire evening with. I do know that regardless of who I choose, I’m going to have a swell time!

Instead of telling you up front who I would choose to be my Fantasy Female Bodybuilder, I will tell you my top three in descending order. After all, I don’t want this to be the shortest blog post of all time, so I need something to discuss. So cue the drumroll, please.

Alina Popa, the Undisputed Queen of Female Bodybuilding!
Alina Popa, the Undisputed Queen of Female Bodybuilding!

Second Runner Up: Alina Popa

How strange a world we live in when Alina Popa, The Undisputed Queen of Female Bodybuilding, finishes in third place. But that’s how things operate in my active imagination. I once wrote a blog post saying that Alina Popa is my #1 favorite female bodybuilder of all time. I’m not sure if that’s still how I feel, but I’m a sucker for someone who’s at the top of their game and is currently considered one of the best (if not the best) in her sport.

Alina is one smoking gorgeous woman. She’s huge but still undeniably feminine. Her adorable Romanian accent doesn’t hurt, either! She lives in Lakewood, Colorado right now, which I suppose makes her an honorary American. She might be a U.S. citizen, but I can’t confirm or deny that. Regardless, my home country is richer and better off because Miss Popa resides in it.

What makes Alina great is her impeccable balance between being hypermuscular and strongly feminine. As a Ms. Olympia contestant (she definitely would have won a few had Iris Kyle decided to retire a couple years earlier) Alina possesses an impressive amount of muscle mass. Have you seen her arms? She could probably crush a watermelon with her bare hands if she wanted to.

But she’s also feminine in every sense of the word. Her face is traditionally beautiful and has not developed any unseemly masculine qualities over time. Her voice remains unquestionably lyrical, even though she does speak from a slightly lower register than most other women. She doesn’t seem arrogant, egotistical, or condescending. Then again, I’ve never personally met Alina, so I don’t actually know what she’s like in real life. But I’d imagine she’s a sweet lady with a big heart.

Alina has chosen not to get breast implants, so she allows her chest to remain flat as she enters her peak condition. Personally, I love female bodybuilders who decide to stay “natural.” I don’t judge at all any muscular woman who chooses surgical enhancements (she’s in control of her own body, of course), but I have a soft spot for FBBs who don’t care what society says and proudly lets her breasts shrink as her muscles get bigger and bigger.

As a premiere world-class female bodybuilder, I’d love to just chat with Alina and learn about her life’s journey. How did she get into bodybuilding? What drives her to become an elite-level competitor? What are the biggest challenges she faces on a daily basis? What major obstacles have she had to overcome? What are some obstacles she has yet to conquer? Where do you go from here? Inquiring minds need to know!

A romantic evening, alone with Alina and her flawless body, is just what he doctor would order – assuming my doctor understands what’s good for me. Perhaps in a different universe I would choose Alina to be my #1 Fantasy Female Bodybuilder. But in this concoction of reality, she is only #3, as astonishing as that sounds.

Angela Salvagno isn't for everyone, but she's definitely the gal for me!
Angela Salvagno isn’t for everyone, but she’s definitely the gal for me!

First Runner Up: Angela Salvagno

Angela Salvagno is a rare female bodybuilder who understands why guys love female bodybuilders and is not afraid to maximize her assets for personal gain. My #1 Fantasy Female Bodybuilder is the expert at this endeavor, but we’ll get to her a little later. For now, let’s indulge in Angela’s greatness.

Unlike Alina, Angela isn’t for all tastes. Her raspy voice and unique-looking face (which could be a euphemism for “homely”) doesn’t appeal to everyone. But what I love about Miss Salvagno is her undiluted sexiness and unapologetic way she shows off her beautiful body. She doesn’t try to appeal to a mass audience and instead hones in on her specific targeted audience. In many ways, Angela is an exemplary model of the modern-day female bodybuilder: She accepts she’ll never be mainstream but doesn’t hesitate to appeal just to the people who love her for who she is.

So, who is she exactly? Angela is a woman who revels in her fetishistic allure and proudly showcases what makes her fans love her. She will show off her large clitoris for the camera. She does not hesitate to reveal every inch of her body. She gives us permission to watch her, drool over her, jerk off to her, and fantasize about her. She allows us to fetishize her muscles without apology and without embarrassment. In other words, she wants us to fetishize her!

She knows not everyone will “dig” her look, but she doesn’t care about that. She could give a rat’s ass about people who are disgusted by her. Instead, Angela is just as comfortable sporting a leather-bound dominatrix costume and stroking a comically oversized black dildo as she is masturbating for the camera (and showing us her vulnerable side) while she screams and moans toward another orgasmic climax. She doesn’t pretend that millions of people will watch her do these things because she’s perfectly happy with a few thousand watching her instead.

I’d love to spend an evening with her because she’d know what I’d like to do with her. She can be a “bad girl” or she can just be herself – it all depends on what mood I’m in at the moment. She can be intimidating and authoritative, but in a “wink, wink” kind of way instead of in a frightening sort of way. Angela is super sexy, but in all fairness there are times when her sexiness feels a bit forced. I’m not judging her too harshly for that because I still think she’s jaw-dropping.

An evening with Angela would be an evening with a cool gal who’s strong, confident, savvy, and unafraid to smash the limits that society places onto her. Her personality does seem somewhat artificial in her videos, but I get the feeling she’s sweet and down-to-earth once the cameras aren’t pointed her way. Regardless, how can you possibly not want the opportunity to suck on her gorgeous clit?

Angela’s genitals are gorgeous. Her clit is, like the rest of her body, meaty. There’s a lot of flesh resting between her legs. Who wouldn’t want to taste her essence and experience all she has to offer?

Speaking of big juicy clits…

Denise Masino and her legendary clit. Need I say more?
Denise Masino and her legendary clit. Need I say more?

Winner: Denise Masino

Very predictable, perhaps. But I don’t care. Denise Masino is my favorite female bodybuilder of all time (sorry Alina!) and I would love nothing more than to spend an entire erotic evening with her.

What more can be said about Denise that I haven’t written about before? Well, not much, but I will say this: Denise Masino is everything you want in a female bodybuilder and more.

Her Puerto Rican ancestry gives her an exotic look that’s completely irresistible. She’s beautiful in ways that appeal to fans and non-fans of FBBs alike. She muscular, confident, self-assured, highly intelligent, clever, conscientious, and sexy as hell. She’s feminine but does not allow herself to be put into a box. She can be coy and devilish but at the same moment maintain her dignity and realism. Unlike Angela, Denise’s sex appeal doesn’t feel false at all. She doesn’t need to “act sexy” because she’s naturally sexy just as she is. That’s a rare quality in any kind of person.

Denise isn’t necessarily the most muscular FBB around or the most naturally beautiful. But she doesn’t need to be any of those things. She may not captivate everyone when she walks into a room, but I can guarantee that if you spend any time talking with her about her life, you’ll want to stop whatever you’re doing, toss your wedding ring into a nearby trash can, and hail the next Uber to her hotel room. That’s the power she has over guys like me.

Of course, we must talk about her clit. Like Angela, Denise is well-endowed and is not afraid to prove it at every chance she gets. For that, I am eternally thankful.

There aren’t too many women who are famous for their clitoris, so Denise is in rare company. The “little penis” protruding out between her legs is legendary within the female muscle fan community (at least with this particular member of the female muscle fan community!) for good reason. It’s thick, meaty, juicy, and seemingly always engorged. And what’s best is that she isn’t shy about showing it off to anyone who’s willing to watch. Many FBBs are self-conscious and ashamed by having a “little penis” because it feeds into the negative stereotypes that female bodybuilders are secretly men or are biologically transitioning away from femininity. Denise doesn’t give a fuck about those stereotypes and proudly displays her big clit without shame. She is far from embarrassed by it. On the contrary, she’s proud of it. As she should be!

What would Denise be like in bed? I’d imagine passionate, confident, and intelligent. In other words, she’d just be herself. And that’s all she needs to be, damn it.

So there you have it. Denise Masino is my Fantasy Female Bodybuilder, but Angela Salvagno and Alina Popa are not far behind. What’s incredible is that if you were to ask me this same question a month from now, my answers might completely change. Perhaps I’d choose Minna Pajulahti as my first choice followed by Lindsay Mulinazzi and Deidre Pagnanelli. Or Lisa Cross, Victoria Dominguez and Monica Martin. Or Shawn Tan, Emery Miller and Annie Rivieccio.

Holy smokes. The possibilities are endless, are they not? But for now, I’m sticking to Alina, Angela and Denise.

I love Alina because of her accomplishments. I love Angela because of her rawness. I love Denise because of her realness. All three women are eye-popping and unforgettable in different ways. They aren’t for all tastes, but they’re definitely my personal cup of tea.

What about you? Who’s your Fantasy Female Bodybuilder? I’d like to know!

Why We Love Watching a Muscular Woman Masturbate

Look at the biceps of Gillian Ward!
Look at the biceps of Gillian Ward!

There are many activities muscular women do that female muscle enthusiasts love to watch.

Lifting at the gym. Wrestling a hapless opponent into submission. Dominating a weaker man both physically and psychologically. Pumping their clit. Posing for the camera. Talking about her daily routine, best lifts, sex life, etc.

But there is one activity that’s especially compelling, one that deserves special recognition. It’s an activity we all do, although we may not want to necessarily admit it out loud.

We love watching muscular women masturbate.

There’s no denying this. The category of porn known as “solo performance” has much mainstream appeal, whether it features muscular women or “normal” looking women. But it holds special weight among the crowd who loves female bodybuilders. When a female bodybuilder masturbates, we love watching it not just because it turns us on, but because it provides us much needed emotional catharsis.

Think this is a bit of a stretch? Read on.

We all have our masturbation stories. When we first discovered it, when our parents “caught” us doing it, when it came in handy (no pun intended) after a stressful day, ways we’ve improved in doing it after much trial and error, and so on. We were all teenagers at one point, right?

But it doesn’t end after the gloriously awkward days of middle school. No, not by a long shot. Unless we’re a modern day Casanova, most of us do not receive the amount of sexual pleasure from a partner (or multiple partners, depending on who you are) that adequately satisfies our appetites. Many of us need to “release” our built-up tension in other ways. Hence, we do the job ourselves.

Woody Allen is right that we shouldn’t knock on masturbation as a bad thing. After all, it’s sex with someone we love. That’s a win-win in my book.

As a matter of pornography, masturbation is just as titillating an activity to watch as traditional – and non-traditional – sex can be. I don’t have exact statistics in front of me, but I’d be willing to bet that at least 15 percent of porn videos out there on the Internet have at least some elements of “solo performance” attached to it. I’ve seen videos of two people (one man and one woman) masturbating next to each other. They never have actual intercourse together. They just get themselves off with the other person in close proximity. I didn’t find this video particularly appealing, but as they say, different strokes for different folks.

Pun intended? You better believe it.

Returning to our original subject, there’s a huge difference between watching a pretty skinny girl masturbate for the camera and a big, beautiful and powerful female bodybuilder doing the same thing. Both performers will provide their audience the expected dosage of over-the-top fake moans and cheesy convulsing, but the latter carries with her a high degree of interesting context that the former does not.

Lisa Cross is not afraid to show off her assets for the camera.
Lisa Cross is not afraid to show off her assets for the camera.

When a woman masturbates for the camera, the obvious purpose is to sexually excite the viewer. That’s without a doubt reason #1. Yes, she may have exhibitionist motivations behind her, but by and large her performance is for entertainment purposes. Some people may find it more entertaining than others, but that’s beside the point. That being said, when a female bodybuilder gets off in front of the camera, it triggers inside us a whole host of thoughts, feelings, and opinions.

First, we associate masturbation as being the ultimate act of independence. It is, in a literal sense, having sex with yourself. When an FBB masturbates, it reaffirms her devotion to being a strong, independent woman. She’s perfectly able to please herself, thank you very much. It’s not that she doesn’t need a man or woman to please her (let’s face it, many FBBs are also lesbians), rather she knows her body better than anyone else.

Bodybuilders are by their very nature more in-tuned with their bodies than anyone else. It makes perfect sense. They spend years of their lives hyper-focusing on every single square inch of their bodies to ensure it meets their strict definition of “perfection.” This is no small task. So who is best qualified to give their bodies pleasure? That’s right. Themselves.

We love female bodybuilders because they defy so many perceptions we hold about men, women, and male/female relations.  They’re stronger than most men despite women being naturally weaker than men. They’re headstrong, fiercely independent, and refuse to accept the status quo as being adequate. They aren’t women who claim to be strong. They’re women who actually are strong, both physically and emotionally.

Anybody can write a Facebook post claiming to be determined to pursue their dreams. Female bodybuilders, on the other hand, expend blood, sweat, and tears every single day to make their dreams come true. They live out their dreams so that it’s not really a dream, but reality itself.

Can't get enough of Kathy Johansson. Can you?
Can’t get enough of Kathy Johansson. Can you?

This spirit of individual determination mirrors the act of masturbation. Assuming we take a more positive attitude toward masturbation (have you noticed that a man who masturbates is considered a “loser” while a woman who masturbates is considered “liberated?”), watching a female bodybuilder get herself off is just one other example of her taking control of her own life. Her resolve to build up the biggest and brawniest body possible goes hand-in-hand with the desire to take her sexuality into her own hands (literally and figuratively).

When we watch a female bodybuilder pleasure herself with a dildo, vibrator or her own fingers, we’re seeing her display an act of independence that is a natural continuation of the independence she displays in every other facet of her life. Her unique diet, personalized workout regimen, and unorthodox lifestyle separate her from the herd. Her ability to give herself pleasure goes along those same tracks.

Second, we see masturbation as an act of a female bodybuilder rewarding herself for being who she is.

I don’t need to rehash the idea that being a competitive (or a dedicated non-competitive) bodybuilder is very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very difficult thing to do. Male or female, the life of a bodybuilder is without debate a very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very difficult thing to do.

Uh, did I mention it’s a very difficult thing to do?

A female bodybuilder makes sacrifices that very few of us would also be willing to do. I’m sure there are days (and perhaps weeks on end) when an FBB really doesn’t want to go to the gym and lift. Her joints hurt. Her muscles are sore. Her back is stiff. Her stomach hurts from eating the same food over and over again and in such large quantities. She’s sick and tired of drinking so much damn water. All she wants to do is open a bottle of beer, order a take-out pizza, and sit on the couch and watch Netflix all day.

But that won’t get her one step closer to placing 1st at the upcoming competition. That won’t allow her body to remain in a condition that her fans expect. Doing that will be bad for business, because these days female bodybuilders have to think of themselves as a one-woman business.

Instead, she has to suck it up and do what’s necessary to keep making gains at the gym and keeping her body in top shape. Her body wants to quit, but her mind must refuse to let that happen.

Abby Marie showing off her impressive set of abdominal muscles.
Abby Marie showing off her impressive set of abdominal muscles.

That attitude requires a level of mental fortitude that not too many of us possess. We all know that it’s easier for men to develop muscle mass than women. So when a woman achieves muscle mass that surpasses that of a man, we know that’s a supremely impressive accomplishment. We cannot imagine how much sacrifice it takes to get to that point. This is why as fans of female bodybuilders we feel a psychological need to “reward” them for their sacrifices.

If we cannot actually reward these women – through gifts, paying hundreds of dollars for a muscle worship session, purchasing their merchandise, or buying tickets to one of their contests – we need an alternate route instead. Watching them masturbate for the camera is, in a weird sense, a surrogate means of “rewarding” them. When we see a strong muscular woman experience a satisfying orgasm (assuming she’s not “acting” for the camera), we experience cathartic release.

Female muscle fans enjoy a body type that is both rare and tremendously difficult to achieve. It’s easy for us to feel guilty about loving muscular women when we know they don’t owe us anything. Female bodybuilders don’t owe us a damn thing. They don’t have to share free photos of themselves on the Internet. They don’t have to produce videos that are easily found by a simple Google search. They don’t have to make their Instagram and social media accounts open to the public. They don’t have to offer muscle worship and wrestling sessions to anybody who’s willing to pay. They don’t have to do any of those things. But they choose to do so anyway.

So when female bodybuilders do allow people like us to enjoy the fruits of their labor, we feel like we’re not worthy, just as Wayne and Garth weren’t worthy of meeting Aerosmith in their basement. We feel a small amount of guilt, as if we’re getting away with something. It seems almost criminal that photos and videos of Gorgeous Muscle Goddesses are available for free on the Internet. That seems rude. In the back of our minds, we feel like access to these women’s bodies should be safeguarded like the codes to our nuclear arsenal.

Like ancient tribes who made sacrifices to the benevolent gods for providing a bountiful harvest, female muscle fans feel like we must provide our beloved Muscle Goddesses a ritual sacrifice as well. Most of us aren’t able or willing to provide an actual monetary gift, so we do the next best thing: We enjoy watching them give themselves sexual pleasure.

When a female bodybuilder reaches the climax of a self-induced orgasm, we feel like she’s receiving the reward she deserves for being who she is. As voyeurs watching this exhibition of sexual self-actualization, we receive emotional comfort knowing her hard work is being given its due. Even watching a female bodybuilder have sex with another person (man or woman, it doesn’t matter) carries the same effect. Anytime an FBB experiences an orgasm, it’s a ritual emotional cleansing for us. We can now continue to enjoy her muscles without any feelings of guilt. She’s happy and satisfied. She’s glowing. She’s purring like a kitten. She’s experienced pleasure. She’s been erotically satiated. And we love that she’s able to experience this. Because damn it, she deserves it.

Alas, no good deed goes unrewarded. There is justice in the universe. Huzzah!

Third, we view a female bodybuilder masturbating as an act of defiance. Too often female bodybuilders face jeers, insults, and rude remarks from mean spirited and ignorant people. People will say hurtful and sexist things about them over the web or worse, to their faces. It sucks. It’s disgusting. It makes us angry. As fans of female bodybuilders, we feel defensive toward the strong women we love. It’s almost tribalist, as if an attack on her is an attack on all of us. We know that’s not technically true, but it sure feels that way.

If I ever saw Colette Nelson wearing a dress like that in public, I should not be held legally responsible for my actions!
If I ever saw Colette Nelson wearing a dress like that in public, I should not be held legally responsible for my actions!

One common insult hurled toward female bodybuilders is that they’re not actually women. They’re either men, wish to be men, or are freaks of nature whose gender identity cannot be properly diagnosed. Her sexuality is brutally deconstructed, minimalized, marginalized, and trivialized. Her femininity is brought into question. Our masculinity (assuming you’re a man) is also brought into question.

She’s treated like a freak, in summary. She’s not human. She’s repulsive. She’s a betrayal to womanhood. Heck, she’s a betrayal to manhood as well. People out there think she deserves scorn because she defies our common perceptions of “what a woman is supposed to look like.”

It’s enough to make my blood boil. I’m sure many of you know what I’m talking about.

However, when a female bodybuilder masturbates, she’s openly defying these insults and is taking control of her sexuality. She’s proving she’s not a freak, but rather an exceptional example of the potential of human achievement. She has a vagina, and is willing to spread her legs out wide to prove it. Her clitoris isn’t a small penis, but a clitoris that’s really damn big. Period. She doesn’t need a man to please her. She doesn’t need to gain anyone’s approval. She is perfectly able to live a fulfilling life regardless of the vitriol thrown her way. For her, masturbation is not just an act of defiance, but a total beat down of all the negative stereotypes thrust upon her.

When we watch a female bodybuilder masturbate, we feel like we’re watching a show of protest. We’re watching a female bodybuilder not just reaffirm her right to enjoy pleasure, but giving permission to other women (whether they’re muscular or not) to do the same. If she can unapologetically give herself an orgasm, you can too. Regardless of what her critics will say, she doesn’t give two shits about them. She’s going to fuck herself with a dildo no matter what. She’s going to moan, groan, scream, and squirm to her heart’s delight.

And there’s nothing you can do to stop her.

Indeed, watching a muscular woman masturbate isn’t just a simple act of erotic voyeurism. It’s almost like a religious experience. Or if you’re not spiritually inclined, it’s cathartic. As she’s experiencing sexual release, we’re experiencing emotional release. We may not know it but that’s exactly what’s going on in our minds.

I realize it’s a cliché to refer to an independent woman as being “liberated,” but that’s not far from the truth. Being free means being able and willing to forge your own path. Perhaps that’s at the heart of the matter. It’s one thing to be able to pursue bodybuilding. It’s quite another to be willing to go through the daily grind year after year after year. A so-called “liberated” woman is free from two things: Obstacles created by society at large and obstacles created in her own mind.

I’m a big believer that the most significant hurdles any of us will ever face in our lives aren’t created by other people, but instead are created by ourselves. We are our own worst enemy. The moment we tell ourselves that we’re going to fail, we’re inevitably going to fail. We can blame outside forces all we want, but at the end of the day our lives are controlled by one person and one person only: Us.

We hold the keys to success. We’re the drivers of our own cars. We lay down the bricks to our own sidewalks. We build the doors that lead to our own success. Once we accept that we can take life by the horns and run with it, there’s no stopping what we can do.

When a muscular woman masturbates, she’s doing that in a literal sense.

She decides how, when, and who can please her. If it’s herself, so be it. If it’s someone else, fantastic. If it’s a combination of both, great. Regardless, she dictates the terms of her own life. Just as she’s sculpting her body to look a certain way, she’s also demonstrating her erotic autonomy. As fans, we cannot get enough of this. As fans, we’re rooting for her to masturbate as often as she wants to. We want her to climax as many times as she desires. Watching this happen isn’t just arousing, it’s a purging of our pent-up frustrations about being a female muscle fan.

Didn’t think watching an FBB give a “solo performance” carried that much weight, did you? That’s the beauty of being a fan of muscular women. No matter how many layers you dig through, you’re always going to find more topics to talk about. The onion goes on forever and ever. Let us keep this conversation going, shall we? For the sake of the muscular women we love, it’s the least we can do.

So keep on masturbating, muscular women everywhere! You know you have a small army of dedicated fans who are in your corner, rooting for you like mad.

Sexy Summer Short Story #2 – 4th of July Fireworks

Fireworks lighting up the night sky.
Fireworks lighting up the night sky.

Big crowds always make Jeff uncomfortable, but once a year he can make an exception. Strolling through Lake Marino Park on a hot and humid 4th of July, Jeff takes in the sights and smells of his small town’s annual Independence Day celebration.

Little kids with patriotic red, white, and blue face paint, little old grandmas teaching arts and crafts, teenagers enjoying their summer freedom, and the rest of us eating barbecue and getting progressively more drunk as the day goes on….it’s what makes the 4th of July what it is.

His buddies told him they’ll meet him at the southern edge of the lake at 9:00 p.m. It’s 8:15, so he has a solid 45 minutes to waste until he can have an excuse to get drunk. Jeff decides to peruse through the booths usually reserved for local businesses and politicians selling their services to the general public. That sounds like a reasonable thing to do.

The usual sort of chiropractors, massage therapists, tax attorneys, city council candidates, and vitamin stores make their presence known this year. Jeff thinks he voted for the nice lady who’s running for re-election, but he can’t remember. He’s a bit skeptical about just how impactful the city council is on his everyday life.

One booth in particular catches his attention, however. It’s for West Hill Fitness, a small family-owned fitness gym located right across the street from where he works. Jeff has sold out to Corporate America and exercises at 24 Hour Fitness, but he’s strongly considering whether he wants to transfer over to WHF and support the neighborhood business community. He sees a line of guys standing in front of the booth, which captures his curiosity.

After peering inside the booth, Jeff can clearly see why a large crowd has formed around it. Inside is one of West Hill Fitness’s female personal trainers challenging guys to an arm wrestling contest. Jeff reads the sign in front of the booth. It says for $5, you can try to arm wrestle WHF’s top female personal trainer. If you can beat her, you win a container of premiere strawberry protein powder, a brand Jeff has never heard of before. That doesn’t mean it’s not premiere, however.

Delicious barbecue ribs.
Delicious barbecue ribs.

The money raised will go to charity toward providing free lunch to low-income kids during the summer months. Jeff figures this is a worthy cause, drops a crisp $5 bill into a jar, and stands in line.

He takes a closer look at the female personal trainer to see who he’s about to go up against.

Whoa.

DAMN!!!!!

Curvaceously feminine yet chiseled as a Greek statue, she’s impressively muscular considering her young age. Jeff estimates she’s in her early to mid-20s. She looks like a pro bodybuilder, with a wide chest, broad shoulders, ripped biceps, a finely shaped midsection, and legs as thick as trees. Her plain looking face looks somewhat pretty in the fading summer light, but her real assets are located from the neck down. Jeff has never seen her around town before, but her buff physique is persuading him to consider switching gyms!

Contestant after contestant fails to beat her at arm wrestling. Her name is Zoe, and she’s WHF’s senior personal trainer. At the tender age of 24, rumor has it she began bodybuilding at 19 years old and has never looked back since. Jeff is next in line. He’s impressed Zoe hasn’t wavered yet. Shouldn’t she be exhausted by now?

Finally, it’s his turn. He sits down at the table and shakes her hand.

“Pleased to meet you. So no one has beaten you yet?”

Zoe shakes her head emphatically. “Nope. Do you think you can be the first?” She places her elbow on the table and offers him her hand. Jeff grips her palm and lets out a deep breath.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Jeff strikes first, forcing her arm backward with all his might. The thinning crowd behind them (most of them have given up trying to defeat her) cheer loudly, half of them siding with Zoe and the other half rooting for the male challenger. Zoe shows off an impressive bounce back move and brings them back to neutral. Sweat drips down his face. Sweat has already been dripping down her face for hours. Jeff is confident he can win, considering the sheer volume of challengers who have preceded him. Surely she’s bound to get tired eventually?

Pushing as hard as he can, Jeff tightens his grip around her hand, causing it to make a cracking sound. Did he hurt her? She winces in pain, telling him that he indeed did hurt her. Feeling guilty but wanting to win, he expulses all the energy he has left and finally slams her arm backward. The crowd goes wild. Jeff looks at her with concern. The owner of the gym, some middle aged dude with too many tattoos, raises Jeff’s noncompetitive arm up in the air and declares him the winner.

He hands Jeff the large container of strawberry protein powder and gives him a free seven day pass to visit the gym whenever he likes.

“Perhaps I’ll stop by sometime this week,” Jeff promises. He’s not sure if he’ll keep his word. His first order of business is making sure Zoe is alright.

When you think of Zoe, think of Dani Reardon.
When you think of Zoe, think of Dani Reardon.

Defeated, fatigued, and in immense pain, Zoe stands up and holds her hand close to her body. Jeff wants to comfort her, but is suddenly pushed to the side by a male personal trainer who immediately tends to her. He escorts Zoe to a nearby ambulance and asks a medical professional to assess her injury. Jeff feels guilty and sullenly walks away from the booth. The owner tells him he has nothing to worry about.

“Zoe’s a tough girl. She’ll be fine. See you later this week!” The owner then opens a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon (yuck) and downs it. Gross.

An hour later, Jeff decides to abandon his friends, who have decided instead of wade around the lake and smoke weed in front of the ducks. Jeff isn’t a smoker, so he has no interest in joining them in hitting the reefer. Instead, he searches for Zoe with the intent of apologizing to her.

Suddenly, he finds her. Standing in front of a row of portable toilets, Zoe has an ice pack taped around her hand. Nervously, Jeff approaches her.

“Hey, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I can get ridiculously competitive at times.” Zoe turns around and smiles at Jeff.

“Don’t worry about it. This isn’t the first time I’ve hurt myself doing this sort of thing,” she says. “I do this every year. Maybe this should be my last.”

Jeff and Zoe chat for several minutes. As it nears 10:00 o’clock, Jeff remembers the fireworks show is about to begin.

“Shall we head toward the baseball field where the fireworks show is going to happen?”

Zoe leans in and surprisingly kisses Jeff on the lips. Jeff’s heart races.

“I have a better idea. Follow me!”

Unsure about what’s going to happen, Zoe leads him (with her good hand) far away from the thousands of celebratory people and toward a dark woodsy area. The sun is almost completely set. They stop at a walking bridge that goes over a creek. Unexpectedly, Zoe unzips her shorts and pulls her panties down to her ankles. She leans against the stone bridge and kisses him again.

“You want to make it up to me? Pleasure me!”

She spreads her legs out wide and shows off her swollen clitoris. Without thinking, Jeff gets down on his knees and puts her enormous clit inside his mouth. He begins sucking away with reckless abandon, unconcerned if any passersby see them in action. Jeff has never seen a clit this big before, but he doesn’t think too much about it. Sticking his tongue deep inside her moist passageway, Zoe lets out a soft moan that quickly becomes louder and more passionate.

“Oh, yes! Keep pleasing me Jeff…”

Jeff nibbles playfully on her clit, which causes her to gasp. He sticks one finger inside her vagina, then two, then three…then all five. He opens her as fully as she’s able to open, all while lapping her clit with vicious ferocity. He senses she’s about to come, judging from her inability to keep her balance.

A romantic stone walking bridge.
A romantic stone walking bridge.

“I’m almost there!”

He stabs the tip of his tongue once more inside her, which sends her over the edge. In the distance the sound of fireworks booms across the sky. Jeff notices several people have stopped what they’re doing and are watching them. He doesn’t give two shits about what they think.

As Zoe’s orgasm ends, she pulls up her shorts and kisses him again, tasting her own essence dripping from his lips. They hug for a long time.

The fireworks show isn’t just happening on the baseball field. It’s also happening right here, between these two unexpected lovers.

Happy 4th of July!

The Bigger the Clit, the Happier We All Are (NSFW)

Angela Salvagno sharing with the world her stretched out labia.
Angela Salvagno sharing with the world her stretched out labia.

By far, the most erotic part of a female bodybuilder’s body is her clitoris. Some FBBs – Denise Masino, Angela Salvagno, Amber DeLuca, and Brandi Mae Akers being a few examples – are famous for their enormous feminine endowments (Rikochan also deserves recognition, even though she’s not an FBB). On behalf of fans of these women all over the world, I can say with great certainty that we deeply appreciate their collective willingness to share this tantalizingly intimate part of their bodies.

No female bodybuilder is ever under any obligation to share her body with the world. No woman is, for that matter. But those who consensually choose to release photos and videos revealing the impressive nub of meat protruding between their legs are a blessed bunch of women. We thank you all, from the bottom of our hearts!

Without a doubt, men – whether they already like muscular women or not – are fascinated with a female bodybuilder’s genitalia. What does it look like? Is it different than “normal” women’s genitals? Are all their clits huge? What makes their clits so big? Do their clits become more sensitive? Is it really a penis? Do taking steroids make female bodybuilders become men (or take on overtly masculine qualities)? Do female bodybuilders experience better orgasms? Why can’t I stop fantasizing about giving a strong muscular woman a spine tingling orgasm?

Inquiring minds need to know!

Alright, everyone. Let’s slow down for a moment and take some time to dive into this topic.

There are thousands of different genres of pornography out there. Some range from the benign to the bizarre to the freaky to the unethical. And everything in between. Porn is a fascinating topic of discussion, one that we’ll never stop talking about. That being said, out of the countless genres and subgenres (and sub-sub genres) of porn available on the open market, one in particular that is worth mentioning is female muscle fetishism.

Porn featuring female bodybuilders can be just as boring, bland, and tacky as any other kind of porn you’ll stumble across. Some is disgusting, some is legitimately erotic, but a lot of it is crude and unintelligent. But if there’s anything that excites a female muscle fan like nothing else can, it’s close up shots of an FBB’s clitoris. Big, swollen, excited, and juicy, we cannot get enough of it.

Denise Masino is legendary for what exists between her strong legs.
Denise Masino is legendary for what exists between her strong legs.

So much so, we keep returning to the kinds of photos and videos that give us what we crave: Big clits. I can say with complete confidence that the bigger the clit, the happier we all are.

Now, before I jump off the deep end of the swimming pool, let’s explore why this is important. I’ve written in previous blog articles why men are fascinated with a female bodybuilder’s genitalia. In this column, I’m going to talk about why it’s empowering for a female bodybuilder to have large genitalia, and why it’s important for the men (and women) who like them to recognize this.

From what I can gather from researching this topic, having a large clitoris doesn’t necessarily provide a woman any further sexual advantages (in regards to her own pleasure) compared to women with normal sized clitorises. There could possibly be some scientific evidence suggesting that women with large clitoral endowments experience sexual pleasure differently, but such research has yet to be conducted to my knowledge. Suffice to say, in terms of physical biology, I cannot say with complete confidence that a large clitoris is objectively significant in any way.

However, having a large clit carries very real symbolic significance. Without getting into too much physiological detail – from which I will admit I am far from being an educated expert! – here is what we know: The female clitoris is homologous to the male penis. In biological terms, this refers to two physical characteristics that are “similar in position, structure, and evolutionary origin but not necessarily in function.”

If what separates a male and female is based purely on chromosomes – XX for females and XY for males – then we can conclude that we were all born genderless but during our development in utero, at some point changes occur which lead to the differences we see after birth. So while the clitoris and the penis are structurally similar, they are nevertheless two distinct parts of the human body. And, they should be treated as such.

Amber DeLuca looking as gorgeous as ever.
Amber DeLuca looking as gorgeous as ever.

It is often pointed out (by sexologists, feminists, and anyone who’s interested in human sexuality) that the clitoris is unique in that it’s the only organ of the human body that exists purely for the purpose of providing sexual pleasure. It may also be more sensitive than the penis, which perhaps gives women more heightened delight from direct stimulation. I’m not a woman, so I can’t verify that claim. But let’s assume this is more or less the truth.

In the process of reproduction, it is often assumed that the penis and the vagina are two sides of the same coin. The man releases sperm from his penis into the woman’s vagina, which carries the sperm through her uterus and eventually to her ovaries, and blah, blah, blah. In a way, the penis and the vagina mostly act as the passageways through which a newborn human being is produced. Boring stuff, right?

Yes. However, things get more exciting once we add the element of sensual pleasure to the mix. Traditionally, we think of human orgasms as being produced by the penis and the vagina. But that doesn’t paint a complete picture. The clitoris is intricately tied to the vagina. Some researchers argue that there is no such thing as a vaginal orgasm, that all female orgasms are clitoral orgasms. The clitoris is far larger than what we see on the surface. The vast majority of it exists inside a woman’s body, not outside of it.

So we really need to think of female pleasure in terms of the clitoris, not the vagina. Fine. Now what? Why is this important?

Culturally speaking, acknowledging that the clitoris is how a woman really achieves orgasm tears down the notion that female sexuality is inherently passive. For thousands of years, we’ve treated male sexuality as a given. Female sexuality, on the other hand, has unfortunately been pushed aside for far too long. During the act of sex, we mechanically think of the penis as the instigator. It is doing the stimulating. It is initiating the reproductive process. Without the penis, sex wouldn’t exist.

Along that same wavelength, the vagina is often thought of as a passive participant. It is the vagina that is penetrated. It is the vagina that is being stimulated. It is the vagina that is part of the reproductive process, not the organ that is activating this process. Without the penis, the vagina is worthless.

This mindset is obviously wrong. Women are completely capable of pleasing themselves without a male companion. But what makes the existence of the clitoris so incredible is that it exemplifies this point thanks to its physical structure.

A strong beautiful black woman named Desiree Ellis. Slaaaaayyyyy!
A strong beautiful black woman named Desiree Ellis. Slaaaaayyyyy!

The penis is an outward organ that is plain for the eye to see. The vagina, however, exists internally and is not easily visible. For the vast majority of women, their genitalia looks like a simple slit that runs down between their legs. That’s it. Schoolchildren often say that boys have a penis and girls have nothing down there. That’s obviously wrong, but that line of thinking makes sense when you think of genitalia purely in observable terms. The penis is easy to observe. The vagina is not.

So once these schoolchildren grow up into adulthood, they have ingrained into their brains the belief that the vagina is subordinate to the penis in terms of providing both partners mutual sexual pleasure. They might intellectually understand that this is a bunch of BS, but cultural teachings can be difficult to fully scrub. An adult man looks at his penis and sees a tool for giving and receiving pleasure. An adult woman looks down between her legs and sees…nothing.

But not so with certain female bodybuilders. Angela Salvagno looks down between her legs and sees…a lot. Oh boy, does she see a lot! Big meaty labia, a thick clitoral hood, and of course, an enormous clitoris itself. For most women, their genitals are mostly hidden inside their bodies, as if it’s almost ashamed to come out into the light. Miss Salvagno, on the other hand, can proudly display her genitalia because of how large, open, and easy it is to see.

That’s the difference. Female bodybuilders with enhanced genitalia prove the point that a woman’s sexual organs don’t have to be small, timid, and passively hidden from sight. Rather, her labia, clit, and vagina can be just as plain to see as a man’s penis and scrotum. She can “let it all hang out” just as a man can. If any of you do a Google search of Angela Salvagno or Denise Masino, you will be fortunate to see just how enthusiastic they are about showing off their goods to the public!

On a symbolic level, having large genitalia empowers you. Men with big penises are considered manlier and more sexually powerful than men with smaller endowments. But does the same standard exist for women? Not really, but female bodybuilders can alter those perceptions. A strong muscular woman with large genitalia shatters the perception that female sexuality must be passive and subordinate to male sexuality. The image of a beautiful and buff FBB with a gigantic clitoris communicates independence, sexual vitality, and female empowerment. I realize the concept of “empowerment” has become an annoying cliché in recent years, but bear with me for a moment. When I see a female bodybuilder with big genitals, I see a woman who is unquestionably and unapologetically in charge of her own sexuality. She controls the terms of her pleasure. She controls her body. She controls how she lives her life. This is incredible. This is important for all of us to see.

Kathy Connors soaking up the sun.
Kathy Connors soaking up the sun.

A large clitoris may not necessarily give a woman more pleasure, but it definitely creates the illusion that she is certainly more than capable of experiencing pleasure for her own sake. She can actively stimulate her clit to orgasm, just as a man can masturbate his penis to orgasm. Women can also pleasure themselves with dildos and vibrators, but those are still phallic-like tools that merely replace a human penis with an artificial mechanical substitute.

But a large clit changes the game. She can pinch, rub, and squeeze her clit toward a satisfying climax anytime she wants to. She doesn’t need a man, a woman, or a phallic proxy to assist her. She doesn’t need to be penetrated in order to experience pleasure (on a side note, doesn’t the word “penetrate” carry with it subtle undertones of violence and invasion?). She can provide herself external stimulation that further reinforces the idea that she is an autonomous sexual creature who is abundantly capable of experiencing as much sensual delights as her male counterparts.

A female bodybuilder who proudly shows off her enormous genitals creates a whole new paradigm in the world of human sexuality. No longer are women second-class sexual citizens. No longer are they defined by what they don’t have, but rather by what they do have.

Come to think of it, that’s the crux of the matter! Going back to the schoolyard illustration, little boys are fully aware of what they have between their legs. Girls are less certain. Therefore, society is taught to view boys by the anatomy they possess and girls by the anatomy they don’t possess. When an obstetrician delivers a newborn baby, they check to see if it has a penis or not, as opposed to if it has a vagina or not. What a funny world we live in.

As male-centric as our society may be (and still is), we’re slowly but surely starting to recognize the fact that women have sexualities of their own that should be celebrated, taught to our children, and acknowledged as factual reality. Women don’t possess nothing down there. They possess quite a lot! Most of it may be hidden, but all you have to do is conduct a Google search for pictures of nude female bodybuilders and you’ll get a good idea of what a woman actually has going on down there.

When women are empowered to embrace their own sexuality, everyone benefits. Women benefit, men benefit, society benefits. It’s a win-win-win proposition. Female bodybuilders play an integral role in punctuating the point that women can be physically strong as well as sexually potent. Of course, much of this is more symbolic than anything else, but that’s beside the point. Female bodybuilders are not an ideal toward which all women should strive, but rather a pronounced example of what women can become. A big clit doesn’t actually signify enriched sexual power; instead it proves the point with the force of a sledgehammer that women can be independent sexual agents who are fully capable of experiencing sensual pleasure without the need for outside assistance.

If she wants a man to help her achieve orgasm, great! If she wants a fellow woman to assist her, that’s also great. If she wants to act all by herself and assert her own libidinous sovereignty, that’s obviously quite great.

Oh baby. Brandi Mae Akers.
Oh baby. Brandi Mae Akers.

Women are immeasurably important to our world. But it’s a tragic reality that the world is not entirely safe or welcoming to them. There are hostile forces working against women all across the globe that will take generations to stamp out (if it can be defeated at all, which is debatable). However, even if it has a miniscule impact on a few people’s biases, a female bodybuilder’s large clitoris can change people’s hearts and minds forever. Maybe not in an immediate and tangible way, but in a more figurative and representational way.

It may not be much, but whatever you can get is gravy on top. It continuously breaks my heart to read about the plight of women and girls around the world. But judging from WordPress’s analytics, I know for a fact that my blog is read by people who live in countries that are openly hostile toward women (both culturally and politically). This humble article may not achieve much, but at least I hope I can get the ball rolling in a more positive direction.

Here is my expression of gratitude to women with big clits who are proud to show them off:

Thank you! Thank you for titillating us, teasing us, arousing us, and captivating us. Thank you for sharing an intimate part of your body that you have absolutely zero obligation to show off. Nobody forces you to share this private part of your life…you choose to do it voluntarily. Your reasons for doing so may be because of exhibitionism, smart business acumen, or for purely financial gain; but an unintended benefit of doing so is that you’ve opened the doors for women everywhere to freely express their sexuality and for men to witness this first-hand. We all benefit. No matter who we are, where we live, or what we believe. You may not realize this, but you’re doing a tremendous amount of good.

You may not see any tangible benefits right away but rest assured, they will crop up sooner rather than later. Hopefully, much sooner than any of us would think. Women and girls have a long way to go in terms of living in a more just society, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re playing your part – no matter how infinitesimal it may seem – toward cultivating this ideal world.

Thank you!

The Benevolent Voyeur and the Female Bodybuilder – Part Two

Rebekah Kresila looking like a well-trained athlete.
Rebekah Kresila looking like a well-trained athlete.

The following morning before breakfast, Rebecca found herself staring long and hard at the $500 lying on her coffee table. It’s as if the smug stare of Benjamin Franklin were directed toward her, with Old Ben warning her not to go through with this madness.

A voice on the television informs her that the captured aid worker was in fact executed by ISIS in the most brutal fashion imaginable. Thankfully, the network spares its viewers the gruesome details, but the general idea remains loud and clear. We live in an unforgiving world. Sometimes, we cannot let reason or logic dictate our actions. This isn’t the way Rebecca wants the world to work, but she accepts this is the way it is regardless of her feelings.

The hour-long jog on the treadmill goes by so slowly Rebecca could have sworn it took two hours. But indeed, only 60 minutes pass before she finds herself taking a short shower with Katy Perry music blasting in the background. Thank God for Katy. We may live in a world with sexually deviant stalkers and international terrorists, but at least a quick listening to “Firework” can be enough to lift your weary spirits.

Thursday is arm day, which is a day no serious weightlifter would ever skip. In fact, it seems like most people only work out their arms and nothing else. Rebecca knows better than that. As a professional female bodybuilder who one day hopes to achieve elite-level status, she must be diligent and strategic while at the gym. Today is no exception.

“Nice arms, little lady!” Rebecca doesn’t need to turn around to know whose voice this gratuitous compliment comes from. It’s Gregory, a somewhat dirty old man who frequents the gym during the early hours of the morning. Rebecca characterizes him as “somewhat” because for an older gentleman (he appears to be in his mid to late 60s), he’s actually pretty handsome. But not movie star handsome. Let’s not get too carried away.

“Thank you, Gregory. What are you working on today?” Rebecca takes a generous swig from her water bottle. The contents are room temperature, which annoy her to no end.

“Oh, shoulders and back. Whatever I feel like doing,” he says. “When is your next competition? Didn’t you last do some a couple of months ago?” Gregory’s silver hair looks as stiff as roadkill. Does his sweat ever mix with the oil he puts in it? Rebecca apparently has time to ponder these things. She takes a look at Gregory’s biceps and notices a significant amount of size growth. She won’t say anything about that to him, however. There’s no need to feed his already oversized ego.

“Yes, I did a competition last March. It was down in San Diego,” Rebecca replies. “The next one is in Houston in eight weeks. I’m hoping to place in the top five this time around.”

Gregory looks up and down at Rebecca’s body, which sends a shiver down her spine. He doesn’t do it in a creepy kind of way, but she is a little bit “on the edge” right now for obvious reasons.

“I have no doubt you’ll place in the top five. Maybe you’ll win it all!” He laughs. She laughs too, forcing every fiber of her body to play along until she can find an excuse to exit this conversation. Thankfully, a gorgeous 40-something blonde woman walks by wearing a skimpy white athletic bra and short shorts that leave little to the imagination. Expectedly, this steals Gregory’s attention. Using Miss Blondie’s presence as an excuse to leave, Rebecca quickly makes a beeline for the free weights room and enters unnoticed.

Conveniently for her, the gym is within walking distance of her condo, as it is for hundreds of others for that matter. The early mornings are usually not too crowded, but by 8:00 a.m. the masses of people start to show up in droves. Rebecca senses now is the time when these folks might start to arrive. She grabs a pair of 65 pound dumbbells and cranks out 12 repetitions of bicep curls. This impresses all the men who are working out near her. They don’t say anything, but she knows exactly what they’re all thinking:

Not bad for a tiny Asian girl!

Rebecca estimates the gym’s clientele consists of 70 percent men and 30 percent women. The guys range from out of shape couch surfers to young men who aspire to become professional bodybuilders like her. But she doesn’t go to the gym to pick up guys. She goes to get to work. And that’s what she always does.

Of the women, there are only three regulars who are as muscular as her. There’s Candace, a 20-something black girl who’s competed before and is actively working on landing her IFBB card. Then there’s Michaela, a 19-year-old track and field athlete with a lean muscular body and breasts even smaller than hers. Rebecca used to be enormously insecure about her flat chest. Today, she’s accepted this fact and has moved on with her life.

Finally, there’s Joyce. Oh, Joyce. Rebecca suspects she’s a lesbian, but a short haircut, tattoos, and a pierced nose doesn’t necessarily mean she’s into chicks. Rebecca is definitely not one to stereotype like that. Joyce can talk your ear off if you let her. She always has something to complain about, whether it’s her flailing personal training business or her mother who’s wondering when she’s finally going to get married. Joyce is probably in her early 40s, so it’s not like she doesn’t have time to find a significant other. But by now maybe it’s a foregone conclusion that she’s not into men.

Or maybe she is. Rebecca doesn’t care either way.

Today, none of these ladies are at the gym. None of the talkative guys who endlessly flirt with her are here either. So perhaps Rebecca will be able to lift in peace and quiet.

“I’m almost done. Just a few more sets,” Rebecca tells herself.

Before leaving the gym, Rebecca sometimes visits the smoothie bar and orders something to help her recover from her workout. Today is one of those days. After finishing her workout and taking a nice long shower, Rebecca dresses and approaches the bar. This morning, a cute guy named Dale is holding down the fort. She and Dale have some history together. A few years ago at a Christmas party they met each other through a mutual friend. They both got really drunk and started to make out. One thing led to another, and before the night was out they returned to Dale’s apartment and almost had sex. They were about to do the deed until Dale, who was more drunk than Rebecca, accidentally hits his head against a wooden cabinet and suffers a bad laceration on his forehead.

Rebecca dutifully ordered a cab and took him to the hospital. They ended up not having sex that evening. That’s probably a good thing in retrospect. Dale is a good guy, but his frat boy days haven’t totally left him yet. He’s nearly 30 but still thinks he’s a freshman in college. Rebecca tends to not gravitate toward men like that.

“What’s up Dale?” Rebecca smiles and takes out her phone to check her e-mail. No messages.

“Hey, girl, hey! Looking good. Oh, not much,” Dale says. “My dog puked all over my bed this morning. That was fun. What about you?”

Learning about Dale’s dog barfing up his breakfast was not the type of news she was in the mood to hear. But that’s Dale for you, ladies and gentlemen.

“Not much. Same old, same old. That’s what happens to people our age. We fall into ruts. I’ll have a strawberry banana smoothie with two scoops of protein powder and half a scoop of energy. I’m going to need it today.” Out of the corner of her eye she sees Gregory hitting on Miss Blondie. This brings a smirk to her face.

A fine pair of legs on Sandy Vu.
A fine pair of legs on Sandy Vu.

“Coming right up!” Dale quickly goes to work. If there’s one thing he does exceptionally well, it’s make delicious smoothies just as you ordered it. So bravo to him for that.

Twenty minutes later, Rebecca almost finishes the smoothie as she parks her car at the physical therapy clinic. She slurps down the rest and tosses the plastic cup into a garbage can. A small army of flies circle around the opening. It looks like it hasn’t been attended to in years. Disgusting.

The work day begins as usual. Only three clients today. None of them noteworthy to mention. In the back office there are several computers that therapists and freelance employees can use. Her usual computer at the back of the room appears to be taken, as someone’s backpack and fleece pullover is lying on top of the chair.

Who could this possibly be? Everyone knows this computer is always reserved for Rebecca Tanaka…

“I’m sorry. Is this your computer? I didn’t know these were assigned to anyone in particular,” an unfamiliar voice says from behind Rebecca’s back. She immediately turns around to see who it is. Standing before her is someone she’s never seen before at the clinic. It’s a devilishly handsome Asian guy with a charming smile and a fit athletic body. Rebecca’s eyes widen as she loses herself in this man’s beautiful aura. She finally composes herself and extends her hand toward him.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there. I’m Rebecca. Pleased to meet you.” They shake hands. His firm grip sends a jolt of electricity through her system. There is something about the way he touches her that Rebecca knows is different from anyone else she’s ever met.

“Hi. I’m Brad. I’m new here. Today is my first day on the job,” he says. Rebecca continues to get lost in his eyes. “I’m the new sports athletic trainer. I had no idea this was your computer.”

“Oh, no. These computers aren’t assigned. I just usually choose this one by default. But I can use the one next to yours.” Rebecca puts her backpack in front of the computer next to Brad’s. He smiles at her again, which sends another jolt of energy through her body. God, what is happening to her?

“Great. I don’t want to step on anybody’s toes on my first day at the job, you know what I mean?”

“I definitely know what you mean!” Wow, is that the best she can come up with? Rebecca turns on the computer and sits down. She admires Brad’s impressive biceps and forearms, which is significant considering she’s seen hundreds of big and buff dudes in her life. “Sports athletic trainer, you say? Julie did say she wants the clinic to go further into that direction.”

“Yeah, I guess most of your clients are elderly people and folks recovering from surgery, right? It’s about time we get some new blood in here. High school and college athletics are becoming a bigger and bigger deal, so it makes sense that she would want to adapt to the times,” he says. Right now, Rebecca is hanging onto every word he speaks. Her eyes move from his arms to his chest, legs, and angular face.

“Where were you before coming here?” Rebecca asks.

“I worked with minor league baseball players down in the Phoenix area,” Brad says. “I just moved up here a few months ago. I couldn’t stand the heat anymore and wanted to go somewhere cooler.”

Before Rebecca could say something, Julie pops her head into the room.

“Rebecca! I’m glad you and Brad are getting acquainted. But Sam is here for his 12:30 appointment.” Well, shit. Time to go to work. Rebecca stands up, gives up on checking her work e-mail, and grins at Brad.

“It’s nice talking to you, Brad. I have to get to work. I’ll see you around,” Rebecca says. She stands up, accidentally places her foot underneath a power cord, and trips as she attempts to take a step forward.

“Whoa there!” Brad saves Rebecca from falling by clutching her in his strong arms. The warm touch of his body against her body provides some dampness to form between her legs. It’s not too often that Rebecca becomes sexually aroused at work (actually, she’s never felt sexually aroused at work), so this is a new experience for her. Also, it’s humiliating to be tripping over herself the moment she encounters a good looking guy.

“Thanks. I can be a klutz at times,” she says. Rebecca regains her composure and exits the room without further antics one would usually find in a low-grade romantic comedy. Brad smirks to himself and makes a mental note to remember Rebecca’s name and face. He too is smitten with her.

Rebecca wasn’t able to see Brad for the rest of the day. Her three clients decide to take up entirely too much time (it’s not her problem, though. They’re willingly paying for her time) and their appointments were lined up one after another. By the time she clocked out for the day, Brad had already gone home. Oh well. There will be a next time, Rebecca supposes.

Typical agility drills done by sports athletic trainers.
Typical agility drills done by sports athletic trainers.

After picking up a tub of fresh quinoa and sundried tomato salad from a deli across the street, Rebecca returns home. She makes small talk with Craig and checks her mail. Thankfully, no perverted letters from nutty voyeurs. Rebecca enters her condo unit and decides to take a shower before eating dinner. She usually showers right before going to bed, but her three clients gave her a workout more than she gave them a workout. The daily grind needs to be washed off before her evening could commence.

Self-conscious about preying eyes, Rebecca closes the blinds on all her windows. You never know these days, she thinks to herself. Rebecca strips naked and takes a moment to look at herself in a long full-body mirror. Despite her natural beauty and impressive muscle mass, Rebecca is still insecure about her looks. She looks at her flat chest as a major flaw. She hates her short stumpy legs. She loves the muscle definition on her legs, but she wishes they could be longer. Her short stature combined with her wide muscular frame makes her look like a Hobbit bodybuilder.

Rebecca also hates her eyes. As a full-blooded Japanese woman, her eyes are as narrow and slanted as a cartoon character. Kids used to make fun of her growing up. Deep down inside, she still feels like adult women judge her because of her strong Asian facial features. She knows that’s ridiculous because most people in the Pacific Northwest are more open-minded than that, but those scarring childhood memories don’t ever go away. They’re a part of her psyche for eternity.

Another remarkable feature of her body is her astonishingly large clitoris. Rebecca takes a modest amount of anabolic steroids to help her gain muscle mass, but nothing too extreme. Nevertheless, the additional growth hormones circulating through her system made a certain part of her body grow larger than normal. Even when she isn’t aroused, the thick head of her clit sticks out between her legs like a really tiny penis.

When she is aroused (and when she’s lucky enough for a guy to be willing to give her oral sex), her clitoris can grow to an eye-popping size. Long and thick, she once measured it with an old plastic ruler. Rebecca did a double take when she saw how long it is. Two and a half inches when she’s fully aroused. Only an inch and a quarter when she’s not aroused.

Is that normal? She has doubts about that.

Every time Rebecca goes to the beach and wears a bikini, she uses a piece of scotch tape to hide her clit from public view. It’s embarrassing, but it’s what she has to do to feel like a normal woman. “Real” women don’t have large bulges in their panties. All she wants to do is to not feel like a freak.

Upon finishing her inspection of her body, Rebecca likes what she sees overall and goes on to take her shower. Fifteen minutes later she walks out to the living room still naked and drying her hair with a towel. She turns on the television to see what’s on. Some murder mystery show. The victim died by a sledgehammer being pounded repeatedly into the side of his skull. What an unpleasant way to go. Why do people watch violent shit like this?

She turns off the TV and plops down on her bed. For some unexplained reason, Brad’s handsome face and impressive biceps flash into her mind. Her heart flutters. The dampness returns between her legs. Rebecca thinks now is the appropriate time to masturbate, an activity she hasn’t done as much lately as she’d like.

Lee Jin Won in top competitive shape.
Lee Jin Won in top competitive shape.

Rebecca turns off all the lights and takes out her trusty dildo from the bedside nightstand. She dabs a small amount of lubrication on the tip and spreads it all over the shaft. A typical 7 inch long white dildo, she’s had this since college and uses it as her default masturbation toy. She also has a vibrator, but she doesn’t like the annoying humming sound. It gets her out of the mood and ruins her mindset. Rebecca needs everything to be perfect in order for her to optimally get off.

Taking in a deep breath, Rebecca closes her eyes and spreads her legs out wide. She leans back against her pillow and exhales. She playfully taps the dildo against her enlarged clitoris and moans at the sensations this gives her. Rebecca suspects that when her clit began to grow it also started to become more sensitive. She could be wrong about this observation, though. But the added pleasure it’s given her is something she can’t argue about.

Inch by inch, she inserts the dildo inside her moist vagina. She strokes it in and out at a leisurely pace, not wanting to rush anything. It’s been four days since she last had an orgasm, so she wants this to be a good one. Rebecca makes sure the dildo touches every square centimeter of her wet and sensitive passageway, including her g-spot. More moans escape from her throat.

If only “Jones” were able to see this! He’d go crazy and would probably give her $2,000 instead.

The thought of Jones watching her temporarily takes her mind off of pleasing herself, so she immediately refocuses on Brad. Rebecca imagines the dildo being Brad’s erection invading her, exploring her, pleasing her. With her free hand, she pinches her dark brown nipples. Both are sticking straight up into the air. This inspires her to increase her tempo. Faster and faster she stimulates herself. Her legs tense up. She lifts her back up off the bedsheets. Her head almost bangs against the bedframe.

She’s close, and she knows it.

Suddenly, the explicit visual image of Brad kissing her just as he comes inside her unexpectedly flashes into her head. This is enough to set her off.

“Oooooooohhhhh! YES!!!”

Rebecca comes and squirts a small amount of creamy white fluid onto the bed. The walls of her vagina contract wildly, as if this is the first orgasm she’s ever experienced in her life. This is not true, of course, but this is a testament to how strong of a spell Brad has cast over her imagination. Out of breath, Rebecca opens her eyes and enjoys the smaller vaginal contractions that follow the more intense ones. Finally, her orgasm ends and she is left lying on the bed drenched in her own sweat.

Fuck. She might have to take another shower!

She sits up and notices the wet spot between her legs on the bedsheets. Fuck! She’s been able to ejaculate for years now, but she can usually control it by not excessively rubbing her g-spot. She must have gotten carried away this time. Rebecca goes to the bathroom, cleans up the mess with a paper towel, and pees in the toilet. Looking at herself in the still-fogged up mirror, she smiles and says to her reflection:

“Damn. That was a good one!”

Friday is the next day. It is uneventful and boring, just like every other Friday at the office. It is a rest day, so she spent the morning talking to her photographer about finalizing the details of their shoot tomorrow. The weather is supposed to be gorgeous, which is fantastic news.

As it turns out, Brad will work primarily in the field and away from the office. At a weekly team meeting – who holds staff meetings on Fridays? – Julie informs the group that Brad will travel to high schools and college campuses to work with athletes to help them improve their speed, strength, quickness, burst, coordination, and overall athleticism. Rebecca is disappointed to hear this news, but she is still glad he’s part of the staff.

Later that evening Rebecca goes out for cocktails with her two best friends, Lauren and Desiree. These three have known each other since middle school and they remarkably still keep in touch. Wisely, Rebecca makes no mention of “Jones” but did glowingly rave about her new cute coworker.

“Girl! Are you going to pursue anything with him?” Desiree asks.

“Before she can answer that, she needs to know if he’s single. Is he available?” Lauren chimes in.

Rebecca downs her whiskey on the rocks and coughs. Lauren and Desiree always elect to drink “girly” drinks with too much sugar and fruit. Rebecca considers herself to be more hardcore and goes for the hard stuff. Her two friends cannot figure out why she’d intentionally drink that shit.

“I think he’s single, and I’m definitely going to make a move if the opportunity presents itself,” Rebecca assures them. “It’s been forever since I’ve last dated.”

Three and a half years to be exact. Both Lauren and Desiree know this.

Finally, Saturday morning arrives. Rebecca gets up at 6:00 a.m. – an hour earlier than she usually does – and eats a larger than normal breakfast. She cooks herself a veggie omelet made with egg whites, low fat cheese, peas, broccoli, onion, carrots, celery, zucchini, asparagus, and avocado. This is served with a bowl of Greek yogurt with granola and peach slices. She drinks way too much coffee before brushing her teeth (in order to make her pearly whites as white as possible) and heading to the gym.

Leg day. Oh, fun.

Saturday mornings at the gym is the best time to go because hardly anyone is there. But Rebecca is there. Gregory and Michaela are also there. Gregory might be flirting with Michaela by the TRX machine. Gross.

Several squats, lunges, deadlifts, leg presses, snatch and power cleans, and miles running on the treadmill later, Rebecca showers in the locker room but struggles to walk around. She always wants to get an arduous workout in before a major photoshoot. It makes her feel more sexy and alive when she’s so exhausted her body is running on pure adrenaline. She skips the smoothie bar (and having to deal with Dale, who seems to work here every single day) and instead drinks a bottled protein shake. It’s not the same, but it’ll do for today.

The drive to Alki Beach Park from Bellevue only takes 35 minutes, which is pretty damn good, even for a sleepy weekend. Rebecca receives a text from Garrett, her photographer, saying he’s running a few minutes late. This doesn’t surprise her one bit. He’s always late. Rebecca’s Asian heritage doesn’t allow her to be late for anything. There’s one perk of having slanted eyes.

Garrett has been Rebecca’s primary photographer for a solid decade. They work perfectly together. He’s an artsy type who also knows how to shoot commercial shots. He’s also very gay, so she has no worries of him coming on to her. That’s been an issue with past photographers. But no longer.

It’s a gorgeous morning in Seattle. Not a cloud in the sky, but there’s a cool breeze to keep her from getting too overheated. The beach is thinly crowded, populated with a few joggers and little kids making sandcastles. Wearing gray sweatpants and a tank top, Rebecca notices she’s already receiving unwarranted stares from random strangers. A group of bros smoking weed by the public bathroom stalls makes comments about her “wicked shoulders and savage biceps.” Rebecca doesn’t even give them a courtesy smile. Those fuckers don’t deserve it.

Alki Beach on a beautiful summer evening.
Alki Beach on a beautiful summer evening.

Rebecca arrives at the agreed upon meeting area and waits. She sits on a park bench and checks her phone for messages. Nothing. She looks around to take in the sights and smells of springtime transitioning into summer. This is her favorite time of the year. It’s not too hot, but the chilly dewy elements of spring are long gone. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a middle-aged white man wearing a suit and tie sitting down on a bench about 400 feet away from her.

“That’s an unusual thing to wear to the beach,” Rebecca says aloud.

He’s looking out into Puget Sound with a pair of professional-grade binoculars. The man has dark hair with streaks of silver on the sides. His black suit is complemented perfectly with a bright red tie. Rebecca even notices the impeccable shine on his Italian loafers. They look damn expensive. They probably are damn expensive.

For whatever odd reason, Rebecca notices him out of the 40 or 50 other people within view. She doesn’t know why, but all her life she’s had a well-developed sixth sense about certain situations. Every so often, she’ll fixate on something or someone for reasons she can’t explain. Intuition is a strange thing, indeed. The man isn’t doing anything inappropriate or suspicious; the only noteworthy thing about him is his out-of-place suave attire.

“Rebecca! Hi!” Rebecca jumps out of her seat when a familiar but sharp voice calls out her name. She turns around and sees Garrett, dressed like a 1970s Greenwich Village hipster, jogging toward her with an expensive Nikon camera around his neck and a backpack full of photography equipment slung over his shoulder.

“Hello Garrett!” They hug. Garrett playfully rubs her muscular back and whistles.

“Holy fucking shit, Becky. You’re getting bigger and bigger every single fucking time I see you, I swear to God,” Garrett exclaims. “Holy fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” Rebecca says, blushing a bit. “I do what I can to add quality content to your portfolio.”

Garrett laughs heartily and checks the settings on his camera. Rebecca self-consciously removes her tank top, sweatpants, and sandals and stuffs them inside her tote bag. As always, a hidden strip of tape conceals the bulge between her legs. The brand new bikini she ordered earlier in the week hadn’t arrived yet (the distributor says it’s stuck in Cleveland of all places), so she had to pull out an old frilly Navy blue bikini from her closet instead. Oh well. Life goes on.

“Motherfucker, stop looking like that, girl!” Garrett says. “Well, are you ready?”

Rebecca looks around and already sees a small gathering of onlookers watching them. Some are pointing at Rebecca and presumably commenting on her muscles. She overhears a little girl ask her mother if “that girl is a boy or a girl.” Gee whiz, kid. You just answered your own fucking question!

No matter how long she’s been a competitive bodybuilder, Rebecca has never gotten used to unsolicited stares from strangers and rude remarks from the peanut gallery. But that’s the life she’s chosen to lead. If they can’t handle the sight of a beautiful muscular Asian woman flaunting her stuff at a public beach, they can take their opinion and shove it up their ass.

“I’m ready,” Rebecca says. “Let’s do this.”

Denise Masino Might Be the Greatest Female Bodybuilder of All Time (NSFW)

A woman of Denise Masino's caliber deserves a tribute blog post, wouldn't you agree?
A woman of Denise Masino’s caliber deserves a tribute blog post, wouldn’t you agree?

It’s not too often that I’ll make firm declarative statements on this blog, but here’s one for the record:

Denise Masino might be the greatest female bodybuilder of all time.

Uh, what? Really? Out of all the thousands of women in this world who’ve pursued the sport of bodybuilding at some point in their lives, is Denise Masino really the GOAT (Greatest of All Time)? Surely there must be someone else, like Iris Kyle or Cory Everson, who should really take this prize. What on earth are you thinking, Ryan?

Well, hear me out on this. My opinion here is based less on competitive merits and more on entrepreneurial success. So maybe the “Greatest Female Bodybuilder of All Time” is a bit inaccurate. Perhaps “Greatest Female Bodybuilding Businesswoman of All Time” is closer to the truth.

First, some background information on Ms. Masino.

Denise Masino was born Denise Sanchez on May 1, 1968 in Brooklyn, New York. Her parents are from Puerto Rican descent. A diminutive 5’2”, Denise was married to Robert Masino for 14 years before her current marriage to Gregg R. Simpson, a filmmaker. She credits her parents for instilling in her a hard work ethic and belief in her ability to carve her own pathway to success. Clearly, her parents taught their daughter well.

Her competitive history is respectable but not overly impressive. She won her first contest in 1994 by being the first overall winner at the 94’ NPC Florida Championships. Between the mid-1990s to 2007, Denise placed consistently in the top 10 in competitions such as the NPC Nationals, Jan Tana Classic, Ms. International and the most prestigious of them all, the Ms. Olympia. Her best placement at the Olympia was 2nd in 2004 in the lightweight category.

Nevertheless, Denise has made her mark on the world of female bodybuilding by being a shrewd businesswoman. She has many assets and isn’t afraid to show every single one of them off. Denise has graced such publications as Muscle & Fitness, Flex Magazine, Muscular Development, Muscle Mag, Women’s Physique World, Playboy Europe and others. She’s also appeared in a few independent films and has made a handful of television appearances. She remains on good terms with her ex-husband Robert and frequently collaborates with him on projects. Denise currently lives in Fort Myers, Florida but regularly visits Los Angeles for business purposes.

Alright, now that that’s out of the way, let’s get into why I believe Denise deserves such high praise.

In a previous blog article, I listed my top 10 favorite female bodybuilders and foolishly ranked Denise at #4. Big mistake! She should be my #1 favorite, which is where she stands as of right now. No disrespect to anyone else, but Denise is clearly a head above the rest. I hope I don’t offend any of my faithful readers who are actual FBBs themselves! I love you all dearly, too!

However, Denise has an incredible arsenal of talents and assets that are unmatched compared to her competition. She has an almost flawless combination of natural beauty, muscularity, intelligence, business savvy and personality that makes her a winner in all categories. She’s a gorgeous muscle woman who’s unquestionably feminine and celebrates her femininity. She’s highly intelligent but doesn’t condescend down to anyone. She’s sexy but playful at the same time. She’s not afraid to become erotic for the camera but never resorts to crudity or crass behavior. She’s also not afraid to showcase her most unforgettable physical asset (we’ll get into this later) and does so with class, dignity and pride. She reveals a lot about herself but keeps just enough under wraps so that we keep begging her for more. I could be wrong about some of this, but I should never let facts get in the way of a good argument!

Denise showing off her most talked about asset.
Denise showing off her most talked about asset.

Luckily for us, Denise is quite active in the adult film industry. Though not a “star” in the traditional sense, for anyone who loves female muscle, she’s a superstar. But it’s not just her large volume of erotic videos that endear her to us; it’s her personality that makes her so irresistible.

I get the feeling Denise is the one who crafts her own image. She obviously has a team of marketing professionals (web designer, videographer, photographer, copywriter, etc.) who work closely with her to build her brand, but without Denise’s own shrewdness, none of that would make a difference. Denise knows what people want and is not afraid to deliver with a bang. She’s also smart enough to deny her fans just enough so that they remain hopelessly intrigued with her forever. These are rare talents.

Denise’s brand is simple yet brilliant. She’s a beautiful, strong woman who loves sex, embraces her sexuality, loves to have fun in her life and isn’t afraid to be herself…all while maintaining an approachable, friendly persona. Denise Masino isn’t intimidating. She isn’t scary. She isn’t a powerful female muscle Goddess who will dominate you or humiliate you. She’s essentially that cool lady at the bar who will shoot pool with the guys and can probably bench press more than all of them. Her sexiness doesn’t feel forced. Her personality doesn’t appear to be manufactured. It’s all real. It’s genuine. You can trust Denise to be just Denise.

In reality, every media star has to craft a somewhat fake persona to a certain degree. We all know our favorite Hollywood movie stars aren’t necessarily in reality how they act on the red carpet or while sitting next to Jimmy Fallon’s desk. Hollywood can be very fake. We all know this. So to a degree, how Denise comes across in interviews and in her videos may or may not be how she is in real life. But I’d wager that’s pretty darn close to being the real Denise Masino.

Her personality is what really stands out. I genuinely would want to sit down with her and chat with her over a few beers. She could be wearing sweat pants, a fuzzy parka and no make-up and I’d still want to hang out with her. She’s an undeniably beautiful woman, but she also appears to be sweet, genuine and has a lot to say about certain things.

Outside of who Denise is as a person, everyone who knows about her will remember her for one particularly striking physical asset:

Her enormous clitoris.

And, to an extent, her meaty labia.

Yes, it’s unusual for anyone to hone in on someone’s genitalia like that (or is it?), but her large feminine endowment is without a doubt her most memorable physical trait. But it’s not this endowment that unto itself adds to her legend (although it most certainly takes on a life of its own), it’s how open she is to showing it off. I’ve written before why men – and women – are fascinated with a female bodybuilder’s genitalia, so there’s no need to get too detailed into this. However, it is crucial to understand that what lies between her legs is one of the most enticing and sexually titillating features I’ve ever seen on any human being, male or female.

I would argue that Angela Salvagno also possesses between her legs beautiful feminine flesh that matches Ms. Masino’s, but that’s not entirely the point here. Denise does an expert job at exploiting her best physical attribute for the camera in a way that challenges us to look away. We cannot look away. Whether we’re disgusted by her clitoris or we’re uncontrollably aroused by it, either way once we’ve seen what she has, there’s no turning back. She has us in the palm of her hand and we’re powerless to resist.

I can't even.
I can’t even.

Let’s be very clear here. Many female bodybuilders possess enlarged clits. They are not penises. Not by a long shot. A feminine endowment is in no way comparable (though biologically symmetrical) to a male endowment. Female bodybuilders are women – period, end of story. There’s no debating this. But we’re especially intrigued by FBBs because their physical strength and atypical anatomical features come just close enough to traversing into the territory of masculinity…but remain clearly set in the realm of femininity.

When Denise masturbates for the camera, we watch her not as a woman masturbating like a woman, but rather as a woman masturbating like a man. She “jerks off” her clit very much like how guys jerk off their penises. When she climaxes, we half-way expect her to ejaculate semen like the rest of us. She doesn’t of course, but the thought is still in the back of our minds. In this respect, Denise almost seems like “one of the guys” while still unambiguously remaining a woman. When Denise experiments with a clit pump, her sensitive nub of flesh nearly grows to the size of a small penis, which further titillates our imagination. We know she doesn’t have a penis, but it looks so much like one that we seem to (at least momentarily) identify with her.

Perhaps that’s it. Maybe thanks to our society’s increasing sexual multilateralism, the stark differences between “men” and “women” are starting to crumble. It isn’t enough for “men to be men” and “women to be women.” We sort of like it when a woman temporarily takes on masculine characteristics while staying true to her established feminine identity. Not only does she sort of “become one of us,” we can still find her sexually attractive as a woman at the same time.

In our modern age of social media, media saturation, sexual pluralism and postmodern sexual mores, it’s not enough to just look at photos of a beautiful woman or watch her engage in sexual activities for the camera. We also want to know who she is as a person. If she seems like a “pretty cool chick,” we feel more at ease in watching her do her thing. Perhaps this is a victory of sorts for 20th century Feminism. We don’t see women as being mere sexual objects. We see them as peers who can also carry immense sexual appeal. I don’t know if that counts as a “victory” per se, so I’ll leave that conclusion up to you.

I have one final observation to point out. Pay attention to what kinds of videos and photos Denise participates in. She’s either by herself (going solo) or in the company of other women. She’s never, to my knowledge, done any videos or photoshoots with other men. Perhaps content like that exists somewhere, but I’ve yet to locate it. If it does, feel free to send it to me! I will, ahem, gladly study it for academic enlightenment.

Looking like one sexy college co-ed.
Looking like one sexy college co-ed.

So she’s seen either performing solo or engaging in sex with other women. She masturbates, poses for the camera, uses a clit pump, has cunnilingus performed on her by another FBB, allows an FBB to penetrate her with a dildo or strap-on, penetrates herself with a dildo, and engages in other activities that don’t involve a man. I’m guessing she chooses to do this because she’s married and doesn’t want to put her husband in an awkward situation, so I get that completely. But this also works to her advantage whether she intends it to or not.

It allows guys like me to fantasize. I know she’s married. I know I have a snowball’s chance in Hades to ever have sex with her. However, I can watch her have sex with other women and not feel jealous. I can watch dildos penetrate her but not feel slighted or excluded in any way. But I’ve never seen an actual man’s penis penetrate her. I know she probably gets plenty of sex in her everyday life, but that makes not a lick of difference. In my own personal fantasy world, I can continue to imagine what it would be like for me and Denise to enjoy a romantic evening consisting of a candle-lit dinner, an expensive bottle of wine, a glowing fireplace, and a long warm evening of lovemaking.

Obviously I’ll never be able to experience that with her. But that’s the beauty of fantasy. It’s your own reality, independent from actual reality. And her choice to never do any scenes or photos with other men makes it easier for me to have these fantasies. My fantasies aren’t “spoiled” by images of real guys having sex with her. There’s no “other man” for me to compete with. Yes, I know she’s married. And I’m sure Denise and her husband have an active sex life that rivals that of the characters in a romance novel. But that’s not important. In my own mind, that “only man” could be me. Heck, in my dreams, it is me.

Denise being Denise. What I'd give to be her left hand at this moment in time.
Denise being Denise. What I’d give to be her left hand at this moment in time.

So that’s it. That’s why Denise Masino might be the “Greatest Female Bodybuilding Businesswoman of All Time.” She understands branding better than few others in the industry. Denise knows what makes her marketable and isn’t afraid to use it to her advantage. More power to her. She’s stunningly beautiful yet approachable. She’s sweet yet possesses a kinkier side. She’s a strong independent woman, but she appeals to men of all types. She’s the type of woman you want to be your friend and your girlfriend at the same time. She has physical assets that she isn’t shy about showing off. She’s proud of what makes her unique. There’s a lot to be said about confidence. Confidence is sexy, no doubt about it. She allows us to indulge in our fantasies while smartly not going too far and mistakenly ruining the fantasy. She is who she is and is damn proud of it.

This is a difficult balance. Only a shrewd businesswoman can maintain this persona year after year with impeccable precision. That’s Denise for you. I get the feeling she doesn’t struggle to build her brand. She does it seamlessly. It’s second nature to her. It’s tough being a self-made entrepreneur in today’s stagnant globalized economy when you work in an industry that’s shunning women more and more. But if there’s anybody who can do it successfully and with grace, it’s her.

Come Again? Female Bodybuilders and Orgasms (NSFW)

A picture-perfect scene involving Autumn Raby and Denise Masino.
A picture-perfect scene involving Autumn Raby and Denise Masino.

The mind of a female muscle fan can go to strange places. Trust me. WordPress conveniently allows me to see what search engine terms people are using that lead them to stumble upon my blog. A lot of it is predictable. Most of it is pretty raunchy. But all of it is perfectly understandable. People are, by their very nature, curious beings.

Female bodybuilders can be fascinating creatures. Can you blame anyone for wanting to learn more about them? I emphatically cannot.

Google searches can tell a lot about what’s on somebody’s mind. It’s a much safer way to discover information compared to asking someone. Would you want to casually discuss around the water cooler with your co-workers the topic of how to make your girlfriend squirt? Yeah, probably not. Unless you work at a sex toy store, such conversation is – generally speaking – considered “inappropriate.” It’s best to find out about that stuff on your own.

Hence, the beautiful and glorious anonymity of the Internet. Unless you have a significant other or precocious child reading through your browser history, what you search for online in the privacy of your own home is strictly between you and your computer. Even if an inquiring poltergeist is hovering by and watching over your shoulder, I’m sure it will keep his or her lips sealed. Dead men tell no tales, as the old saying goes.

One such prominent search engine term that frequently refers people to my blog deals with female bodybuilders and their vaginas. “Female muscle pussy,” “FBB pussy,” or “sexy muscle clit” are a sampling of what I’m talking about. Variations change slightly, but the theme is consistent. People are intrigued by the genitalia of a strong muscular woman.

To be fair, it’s not unusual for men (and women) of all ages to be inquisitive about the subject of what lies between a woman’s legs. I was too when I was a snot-nosed teenager. Heck, I still am even as an adult. No matter how wise or experienced you become in terms of dealing with the ladies, a man’s thirst for knowledge about the opposite sex never ceases. There always seems to be more to know, right? There’s a reason why we continue in the present day to study the phenomenon of human mating on a scientific and social level – even though humanity has been having sex for thousands and thousands of years. The topic will always tickle our fancy (insert bad pun here).

But in regards to female bodybuilders, the topic of their vaginas takes on a special tone. We’re not just dealing with normal women. We’re dealing with strong, muscular goddesses who seem to be from another planet. Their “otherworldliness” makes the subject of their bodies and sexuality all the more intriguing. I’ve written before on this, but I’d like to take this opportunity to explore this from a slightly different angle. Shall we?

Let’s talk about orgasms.

Ever since the glory days of adolescence, most of us (I cannot for sure say “all,” but that’s a whole other conversation) experience orgasms on a regular basis. Some every day. Others less frequently than that. Whatever. We’re not being judgmental around here. Of those orgasms we experience, some are generated by a partner (or multiple partners, depending on how kinky you happen to be) during the act of coitus. Others – and perhaps the majority for many of us – come through masturbation. Regardless of the circumstances in which you “get off,” orgasms are a natural part of our existence. They give us pleasure. They help release pent-up tension. They make sex worthwhile. They make masturbation not an act of selfishness, but of self-care. They can help us sleep at night or cure a nagging headache. They make the process of reproduction possible. They give us incentive to want to find a mate and reproduce. In other words, orgasms are undeniably an important facet of the human experience. They’re so imperative that researchers have written mountain loads of books on the subject. There are whole industries dedicated to helping get people “in the mood” to have an orgasm. There’s medication available to us to help people achieve orgasm when certain physiological functions aren’t working properly.

If Desiree Ellis approached me in a smoke-filled film noir-style bar, oh boy...
If Desiree Ellis approached me in a smoke-filled film noir-style bar, oh boy…

You get the idea. Orgasms matter a great deal to us. As they should. There’s no debating that. Without getting too deeply into religion and certain social mores, suffice to say that the vast majority of us can agree that experiencing orgasms is a great thing for all of us to do. Orgasms are a good thing, yes?

This explains why there are a significant number of Internet users who are curious about female bodybuilders, their genitalia and how they experience sex. Are their orgasms similar to mine? Are their orgasms similar to my wife’s? The questions can be endless. Inquiring minds need to know! Here is a short selection of some more:

  • Do muscular women experience more intense orgasms?
  • Does a female bodybuilder with an enormous clit experience better orgasms?
  • Is an FBB’s vagina tighter and more muscular than a normal woman’s?
  • Do FBBs spend extra time working out their vaginas so they can have more pleasurable orgasms? If so, what can I (or my girlfriend) do to achieve the same thing?
  • Are female bodybuilders always horny?
  • Does having more testosterone than normal women make FBBs less interested in sex? In men? In having orgasms? In doing other “girly” things?
  • What does a female bodybuilder’s vagina look like? Is it different than mine?
  • How do FBBs masturbate? And where can I go to watch some in action………?

Have any of you ever pondered these matters? I’ll admit with full disclosure that I have. Oh, boy. My dirty mind can go to strange places if I have nothing better to think about. I can guarantee that I am not alone in this. Thanks to WordPress’ analytics page, I have proof that confirms my suspicions. We all have dirty minds. Some of us are more proactive than others in indulging it.

All of this brings us to the $500,000 question. What is it like for a female bodybuilder to have an orgasm? Are they more pleasurable than others? Or maybe less pleasurable? Do her muscle contractions last longer? Are they more intense? Is it easier for her to experience an orgasm because her clitoris is much bigger than normal? Or, is it easier for her to come because her vagina is especially tight?

I am not an expert in human anatomy, so I cannot (and should not) attempt to answer these questions directly. Plus, I’m a dude. I don’t have a vagina and never have. What authority do I carry to speak on this subject? Not a whole lot, I can tell you that.

However, I can speak to the concept of exploring why this subject mesmerizes so many of us. And what all of this means. Let’s begin with what I do know.

Amber DeLuca better have more fun in the bedroom. She definitely deserves it!
Amber DeLuca better have more fun in the bedroom. She definitely deserves it!

First, the vagina is a muscle. We often refer to it as an organ, but it’s not a traditional organ like the penis. It’s a tube-shaped fibro-muscular part of a woman’s genital tract that stretches from the vulva to the uterus (or the cervix, if we want to get really technical). We’re all aware of its role in sexual intercourse and childbirth. But that first fact stands out above all else. The vagina is a muscle. Female bodybuilders have big muscles. So…in an attempt to connect the cerebral dots, do FBBs have bigger vaginas than non-muscular women? Or more specifically, do they possess stronger vaginas?

I highly doubt an inordinate amount of research has been done on these specific questions. What reason would we have to pour millions of research grant money into finding out if female bodybuilders have more intense orgasms than the rest of the female population? The scientific process utilized to seek out useful data would be enthralling to witness, but nevertheless we can all agree such an experiment would never occur. We still don’t have a definitive cure for cancer, am I right?

I suspect female bodybuilders experience sex and sexual pleasure in the exact same ways non-muscular women do. Bench pressing, deadlifting, squatting and bicep curls don’t strengthen the vaginal muscles. Kegel exercises, on the other hand, do. For the unenlightened amongst you, Kegel exercises are a series of physical activities that aim to strengthen the pelvic floor muscles. By squeezing the levator muscles for five seconds and releasing them in a repetitive manner, you strengthen your urinary tract, uterus, bladder, small intestine and rectum. For women, it helps prevent urinary incontinence after childbirth and general urinary problems for men (and women). Any obstetrician worth a grain of salt should recommend a pregnant woman do Kegel exercises during and after pregnancy.

Unless a female bodybuilder is spending a substantial amount of her time doing Kegel exercises in addition to her usual grueling workout regimen, I don’t foresee any logical reason why an FBB would have a more muscular nether region than normal women. But then again, I’m neither a bodybuilder nor a woman, so what do I know?

So this finally gets us to the $1 million question. Why does it matter? Why are so many of us out there going on Google, Bing or Yahoo and researching whether the muscular women we love also happen to experience more intense orgasms? What’s the big deal?

Well, that’s a much more thought-provoking discussion.

Deep down inside, many of us female muscle fans have this inherent belief that female bodybuilders are somehow superhuman. Like Superman, Spider-Man, the Hulk or Wonder Woman, FBBs seem to possess special abilities beyond the rest of us. Even us menfolk. Their muscle definition, dedication, mental fortitude, attention to detail, pure brute strength and divinely sculpted bodies defy all normal expectations of the limits of human achievement. We’re obviously impressed by the aesthetic accomplishments of male bodybuilders, but even more so for their female counterparts. We’re conditioned to expect to see men walk around with big biceps and broad shoulders. That’s no big deal. But when we see a woman strutting around the neighborhood with a similar look, it raises even more eyebrows. “Wow!” – people think – “That’s really impressive!”

Subconsciously, we also think this “superhuman” motif spills over into other arenas of life. For example, the arena of sex. If female bodybuilders have exceptional muscle mass, exceptional grit, exceptional toughness and exceptional strength, why wouldn’t she also have exceptional sexual abilities? We may not overtly believe this, but it makes perfect sense that these thoughts would cross our minds.

We need more pin-up ladies like Tatiana Anderson.
We need more pin-up ladies like Tatiana Anderson.

Additionally, this might be something that we want to believe. Most of us fans of female bodybuilders are attracted to them as human beings. We can all agree Desiree Ellis is a fine physical specimen. And if she were to randomly approach you and sensually whisper in your ear “make love to me all night long,” who would dare turn her down? I sure wouldn’t!

So there is undeniably an element of fantasy at play here. Call it “wishful thinking,” but let’s simply refer to it as fantasy. We want to believe that one of the perks of being a bodybuilder is the ability to experience enhanced orgasms. We want her to be rewarded for her hard work by having a better time in the bedroom than her less muscular peers. Perhaps that’s it. Deep down inside, we want female bodybuilders to experience more pleasurable orgasms for two reasons: 1. It’s incredibly hot to think about, and 2. We believe she deserves it.

After all the sacrifices FBBs go through to achieve their desired look day-in and day-out, don’t they deserve extra fun in the sun? The arduous journey they travel to sculpt their beautiful bodies should come with added bonuses, wouldn’t you say? If an “average built” woman achieves a level 6 or 7 orgasm during sex, shouldn’t a female bodybuilder be allowed to experience a level 10 or 11? Heck, why not 13 or 14?

If you think about it, what tangible benefits come with being a bodybuilder other than monetary rewards (which only go to an exclusive number of professional competitors) and external accolades? Perhaps a healthier body than most other people, but years and years of bodybuilding can eventually takes its toll. Increased risk of injury and the negative effects of steroids (or whatever drugs you choose to take) come with the territory. None of us are naïve about this.

So, perhaps in our heart of hearts, we want FBBs to be able to have more fun in the bedroom because we want to see them rewarded for being willing to make these endless sacrifices. A little incentive never hurt anyone, right? We’re curious whether FBBs experience better orgasms not because we have any practical reasons for finding out why, but rather because we really, really, really want them to. They deserve it! They absolutely deserve all the physical pleasure their bodies are able to grant them. They spend so much time in the gym punishing their bodies. Why can’t they be able to reward their bodies with much needed fleshly delights every once in a while?

I am infinitely interested in what lies between Angela Salvagno's legs.
I am infinitely interested in what lies between Angela Salvagno’s legs.

Obviously, we all universally believe female bodybuilders deserve all the benefits that come from trudging through their demanding lifestyles. Adoring fans? Check. Lucrative endorsement deals? Check. Public recognition for the fruits of their labor? Double check. Better sexual experiences? Oh yeah. That’s definitely a check!

Maybe these inquisitive Google searches aren’t a reflection of our own curiosity so much as a testament to how much we genuinely love strong women. We love them so much we instinctively wish that they are able to indulge in carnal experiences that are completely unknown to their peers who choose not to be bodybuilders. People who work hard should be compensated accordingly. None of us can disagree with that.

Not every female bodybuilder will make a lot of money. Not every female bodybuilder will become famous. Not every female bodybuilder will receive the appropriate level of public adoration they deserve. But perhaps, maybe in an alternative parallel universe, somewhere in a galaxy far, far away, there exists a reality where all female bodybuilders can experience the most intense, gratifying, shamelessly hedonistic, eyes-rolling-in-the-back-of-the-head, beautiful orgasms ever known to humankind.

People who are disgusted by female bodybuilders would undoubtedly be jealous if such a reality were possible. Wouldn’t that be a gorgeous example of poetic justice?

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