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.”

Asian Boy and Muscle Girl

When you imagine "Muscle Girl," think about Nikki Fuller.
When you imagine “Muscle Girl,” think about Nikki Fuller.

Asian Boy was obsessed with Her. He couldn’t stop thinking about Her. Every night he fantasized about Her. The thought of Her beautiful muscular body grinding against his tiny, scrawny Asian body drove him wild with ecstasy.

Tonight is no exception. Asian Boy is in his apartment watching his favorite video of Her: a crudely shot YouTube video of Her pumping iron at the gym wearing nothing but a bright green bikini.

You can see every inch of Her magnificent body. The bikini leaves little to the imagination.

He can see every drip of sweat streak down Her thick muscled body. He stares in awe as She bench presses 315, squats 405 and deadlifts 500. He watches Her pose for the camera after Her strenuous workout – every muscle on Her divine body glistening, a valuable piece of art in the flesh.

Asian Boy has seen this video hundreds of times. It never gets old. To his misfortune, this is the only video he could find of Her. He’s searched everywhere for another. But so far he’s found nothing.

God, She’s the most gorgeous woman on the planet! Asian Boy is completely enamored by a woman he’s never met. But, in a strange way, he feels a powerful connection to Her. There’s something about the way She looks into the camera that convinces Asian Boy She’s looking specifically at him.

He knows this is crazy, but he knows it’s true.

The woman’s name is Michelle. No last name is given. She’s a professional bodybuilder and powerlifter. She’s competed in contests around the globe. No other information exists about Her.

Where does She live? How old is She? How did She get into weightlifting? What kind of grueling training regimen does She follow in order to develop Her phenomenal muscle mass?

Michelle is a Divine Muscle Goddess of spectacular proportions. The video description details her measurements:

Height: 6’6”
Weight: 267 lbs.
Biceps: 21 inches.
Calves: 19 inches.
Quadriceps: 30 inches.

Wow. Can you believe it? She’s a BEAST. She puts male bodybuilders to shame with Her incredible measurements.

Michelle, Michelle, Michelle. Every Google search turns up nothing. He’s tried “Michelle female bodybuilder,” “Michelle powerlifter,” “Michelle muscle woman,” “Michelle female bodybuilder and powerlifter.”

He’s tried them all. But nothing comes close to finding Her.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s like She doesn’t exist.

But he knows She exists. She has to.

For now, Asian Boy is preoccupied watching a six and a half minute video he’s seen over and over again. He’s memorized every single frame. He’s hopelessly obsessed with this Powerful Muscle Angel. She’s blonde, exceptionally tall, looks to be between 40 and 50 years old and is entirely covered from head to toe with incredibly bulging, rippling muscles.

Asian Boy wouldn’t be surprised if She could bend a crowbar with Her bare hands or rip a phone book in half. Asian Boy could imagine Her doing a whole host of amazing feats of strength.

The video ends. But he wants more of Her. He can’t get enough of Her. He decides to watch it again.

The video starts from the top. Muscle Girl is back at it – bench pressing ten strenuous repetitions till She’s completely out of breath with sweat dripping out of every pore of Her heavenly body.

Asian Boy knows he’ll never be able to make love to a woman like Muscle Girl. Michelle must have countless men clamoring to be with Her. She must have a husband who’s without a doubt the luckiest man on Earth. He’s privileged to be with the most beautiful and strongest woman on the planet.

Asian Boy often fantasized about what it would be like to make love to Muscle Girl. The video half over, Asian Boy closes his eyes and lets his imagination take off…

Dusk.

A secluded beach house on an exotic Caribbean island.

Asian Boy and Muscle Girl enter the house after a long walk on the sandy beach. After a hot and humid 97 degree day, the evening has cooled off considerably.

Muscle Girl stands at least a foot taller than Asian Boy, but Asian Boy feels absolutely no insecurity. Muscle Girl is at least 25 years older than Asian Boy, but She feels no qualms about Her age. She’s embraced Her age and understands it’s only a number. At heart, She’s still a young free-spirited woman.

Muscle Girl just won the Ms. Olympia bodybuilding competition for the twelfth year in a row and continues to break world records at a staggering rate. Considered the greatest professional bodybuilder and powerlifter of all time, Muscle Girl has the unquestioned respect of every man and woman in the business.

She’s gained endorsement contracts, movie deals and is an international celebrity. People around the globe admire Muscle Girl’s massive size, unparalleled physical strength, supermodel-like beauty, stark femininity and undisputed greatness.

She’s out-lifted male athletes and bodybuilders. Feminists and social critics praise Her as shattering the stereotype that women are the weaker sex. Muscle Girl is admired for being a woman who, through self-determination and iron will, can achieve anything.

Muscle Girl has become a social icon, a symbol, a cultural warrior.

But none of that matters now. Little does the outside world know that Muscle Girl’s heart belongs to the most unlikely fellow: a short, skinny soft-spoken Asian American young man named Jonathan. Muscle Girl and Asian Boy have dated for almost a year without the paparazzi or even their own families knowing about it.

They prefer their secret relationship stay that way.

But they’re not ashamed of their love. On the contrary, Muscle Girl and Asian Boy would not hesitate to publicly profess their undying love for each other…except they don’t want the perils of fame and fortune getting in the way of their passionate relationship.

Both will admit the jarring contrast between the two: A short, nerdy Asian boy dating a large, tall powerful muscular woman. They turn heads when they’re seen in public together. But they could care less what people think. All they care about is the love they have for each other.

A romantic sunset on the beach.
A romantic sunset on the beach.

The beach house belongs to a friend of Muscle Girl, some rich Hollywood executive. He let Muscle Girl and Asian Boy borrow the house for the week. This unorthodox couple has spent their time exploring the island, eating the local food, exercising at the local gyms, swimming in the Caribbean Sea, soaking up the sun and…

Most of all, their favorite pastime: making love.

Asian Boy and Muscle Girl make love constantly and passionately, the internal fire burning inside them refusing to die. When they join together their bodies become one; two unlikely lovers becoming whole.

Upon returning to the beach house, Muscle Girl takes a shower while Asian Boy starts a fire in the fireplace. He pours two glasses of champagne and grabs a fruit platter out of the refrigerator. He then sits and reflects on how they came to this point.

They met when Asian Boy was working as a freelance photographer. One day Muscle Girl was in town to promote Her new line of health clubs. Asian Boy was assigned to snap a few photos of this international celebrity. When they met, it was magic. Muscle Girl was wearing a sports bra and shorts. Asian Boy stood there watching Her, clutching his camera toward his chest. Their eyes met. They knew they had connected on a metaphysical level. She came to him. He said something to Her. She laughed.

The rest, as they say, is history.

When the shower stops, Asian Boy turns around. Sure enough, right on cue, Muscle Girl walks out wearing nothing but a white towel around her torso.

Asian Boy’s heart stops, as it always does.

Though he’s seen Her naked thousands of times, Her magnificent body never fails to steal his breath. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get accustomed to seeing Michelle’s Goddess figure in all its glory.

Muscle Girl: “You poured two glasses of champagne.”

Asian Boy: “Yes, one for me and one for you. Here you go, darling.”

Muscle Girl: “Thank you, lover.”

She takes a sip of Her champagne and sighs deeply. She’s been under a lot of stress lately and desperately needed this vacation to relax and unwind.

Asian Boy: “You never cease to amaze me. You look absolutely gorgeous. Beautiful beyond words.”

Muscle Girl: “Thank you, lover. You look amazing, too.”

He blushes, knowing he’s light years away from looking as great as Her. Sensing his insecurity, Muscle Girl puts the glass of champagne down on the bedside table and approaches Asian Boy slowly. She wraps her thick, strong arms around him and embraces him tightly, communicating Her undying love for him.

They share a long fervent kiss, a spiritual exchange of affection that makes his heart race. She has to look down to meet his lips. He has to look up and stand on his toes.

When they come apart, they stare intimately into each other’s eyes. They know what’s next. Asian Boy opens a window and lets a cool breeze enter. Muscle Girl turns off the lights and allows the fire’s celestial glow to fill the room.

Asian Boy begins to remove his clothing as he has often done in front of Her. Muscle Girl lets the bath towel drop and pool around Her feet, revealing her nude form.

She’s as tall as a basketball player and as thick as a wrestler. She’s a natural blonde with faint traces of white hair mixed in between. Her legs are long and as thick as tree trunks. Her arms bulge in every direction, Her pumped biceps as big as cantaloupes. Her shoulders stretch at least a yard across. Her back is covered with layers and layers of mounds of pure muscle. Her abdomen proudly shows off Her swollen six-pack, a jaw-dropping reminder that Her strong chiseled core could take a punch from a heavyweight prize fighter and not break. Her skin is tanned and rough as leather. At 48 years old, Her age lines and wrinkles do nothing to distract from Her perfectly proportioned face.

She has the body of a Greek goddess, the face of a supermodel, the will power of a marathon runner and the intelligence of an Ivy League professor. It’s by no mistake that She’s the wealthiest female athlete in the world. Her business savvy and unequaled physical strength is the reason why She’s a superstar celebrity. No doubt She’s the most beautiful and intelligent woman he’s ever met.

Asian Boy: “You look divine. I love the way the light from the fire casts shadows across your muscular body. Amazing.”

Muscle Girl: “You’re too kind, lover. Way too kind! Here, let me help you with that.”

Muscle Girl reaches down and unzips Asian Boy’s pants. She pulls down his underwear to reveal his erection, hot and ready for her. Asian Boy knows he isn’t gifted with a large endowment, but that never gets in the way of their lovemaking. She insists size doesn’t matter to Her. Even though he knows She would never lie to him, a small part of him still feels insecure.

Once Asian Boy removes his last article of clothing, hand in hand the two lovers walk to the bed and lie down. Their hands ravenously explore each other’s bodies, touching with finesse and familiarity. He toys with Her nipples, making them stand at attention. She reaches down and strokes his thighs, making him want Her more. They kiss, savoring every single taste.

The tip of his penis brushes slightly against Her six-pack abs. He lets out a soft moan, telling Her he’s more than ready. But She doesn’t want him to enter Her yet. She wants to take this leisurely and enjoy the moment.

Muscle Girl grabs the fruit platter and takes a small sip of Her champagne.

Muscle Girl: “Place the fruit across my body.”

Asian Boy does so without saying a word.

One by one, he places thinly sliced pieces of mango, papaya and pineapple across Her buff body. He puts two blueberries on top of her sensitive nipples and a slice of watermelon across Her wet vulva. He reaches down and tenderly strokes Her enlarged two inch-long clitoris. After years of taking synthetic male hormones, Muscle Girl’s feminine parts grew to superhuman proportions. Unexpectedly, her clitoris expanded by an unbelievable two inches. She refers to this as Her “little penis.”

Asian Boy, constantly taunted by society for having a tiny penis, feels intimidated that a woman could have such an endowment. But he continues to stroke Her little penis and gets down to taste between Her legs.

Muscle Girl: “I like this, lover. I like this a lot.”

Asian Boy puts Her little penis into his mouth and sucks on it joyfully. Muscle Girl chews on a piece of papaya while he satisfies Her. She gags as she comes, a powerful orgasm ripping through Her body. Asian Boy feels the whole bed shake as Her vagina contracts wildly in response.

Minutes later, Asian Boy and Muscle Girl eat all the fruit off Her body. She decides foreplay is over.

Muscle Girl: “Enter me, lover.”

Muscle Girl, now on Her back, spreads Her legs wide for him. Asian Boy grips Her hips, positioning the head of his penis onto Her vulva and enters Her with a single thrust. Both lovers let out a moan as they connect at their most intimate parts, a transcendental form of communication only two perfect lovers could understand.

Slowly he rocks back and forth, building to what would be an earth-shattering climax. They stare into each other’s eyes, expressing a love so beautiful and perfect no two people would ever be able to replicate it. Every nerve ending in his manhood erupts with pleasure as he goes in and out of Her.

Finally, Asian Boy climaxes, emptying himself into Her, hot and sticky.

Muscle Girl, however, does not climax and is hungry for Her own orgasm. She gets up and reaches for the bedside drawer and takes out a nine inch long black dildo. Asian Boy grabs a bottle of lubricant and applies some onto the dildo’s daunting shaft. Muscle Girl leisurely inserts the dildo into Her vaginal canal, enjoying every inch of it. Asian Boy sits back and finishes his champagne.

Her breathing quickens as Her orgasm builds. He watches keenly, wondering if he should be jealous of this nine inch-long contraption. His concentration breaks as She climaxes for the second time, a small amount of feminine juice gushing from Her loins and staining the bed sheets. Muscle Girl, breathless and wheezing furiously, looks down at Her mess.

Muscle Girl: “Looks like I just wet the bed, huh?”

Asian Boy: “Yes you did! We can clean that up later.”

Muscle Girl takes the dildo out of Her womanhood and places it on top of the drawer. She looks at Asian Boy and immediately senses his feeling of emasculation. They live in a cruel world that relentlessly emasculates Asian men. She knows that and kisses him deeply, tasting his essence.

She guides his hands down, encouraging his fingers to enter Her. First, one finger was inside Her. Then two. Then three. Eventually, his entire fist is completely inside Her. She continues to kiss him as his fist pounds into Her, eventually delivering Her third orgasm. Muscle Girl lets out an uninhibited scream. Asian Boy removes his hand from Her vagina.

Muscle Girl finishes Her champagne and eats the last of the fruit, sweat beading on Her coarse skin. To complete the night, they decide to do something they’d only done a few times before.

Muscle Girl dabs a generous amount of lubricant on Asian Boy’s penis and tickles his scrotum. His erection returns. Muscle Girl turns around and gets down on Her hands and knees.

Muscle Girl: “Enter me again, lover. But you know where I want it.”

Asian Boy: “Yes, lover.”

Asian Boy puts his hands on Her bottom, admiring its shape. Then, he thrusts his entire manhood into Her anus, eliciting a throaty moan from both lovers.

Asian Boy: “Am I hurting you?”

Muscle Girl: “Yes, but I don’t care. Do it. I want you to.”

Asian Boy pushes in and out of Her, filling Her tightness with his small manhood. Her groans of pain become louder as his thrusting becomes faster. Both lovers let out a scream so loudly and passionately they could care less if the entire world hears them. To hell with the world.

Muscle Girl stifles a moan as Asian Boy climaxes for the second time that night, filling Her anal cavity with his seed. He immediately pulls out and kisses the back of Her neck. He falls on top of Her and they lay there motionless, their skin covered in sweat.

Muscle Girl: “I love you, Jonathan.”

Asian Boy: “I love you, Michelle.”

Muscle Girl and Asian Boy instantly fall into a peaceful slumber, the cool breeze from outside blanketing their bodies.

Asian Boy then wakes up. Not in the beach house, but in his apartment. Alone, he realizes he’d been dreaming. His computer screen is black and it’s nearly 3:00 a.m. He turns off the computer and rolls onto his side.

He can’t stop fantasizing about Her. He can’t stop imagining what it would be like to make love to a beautiful muscular woman like Her.

Asian Boy silently says a prayer to the Heavens, wishing Her good luck and sweet dreams. Once again, he couldn’t explain how he knew, but Asian Boy senses She heard his prayer. He knew, in a cosmic way, Muscle Girl heard all of his prayers.

His last thought before drifting off to sleep was a thankful wish to Her. Thank you for being a part of my life, he prays, even though She doesn’t know he exist. But he knows She exists, and that’s all that matters.

Goodnight, Muscle Girl.

Goodnight, Asian Boy.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Twenty-One – Cheering Up

I need some cheering up. It’s Saturday afternoon and I’m still not close to landing a replacement job. I realize it’s been less than a week, but there’s got to be something out there for me, right?

Uh, maybe not. Maybe there isn’t anything out there for me right now.

I mean, I’m not going to become a high class drug dealer and follow Sam’s footsteps. I have standards! I’m more willing to go back to that God-forsaken temporary staffing place than sell dope to the rich and famous.

Sheesh. I really need some cheering up.

And I think I know the precise medicine: spending another night with Cindi.

Oh, Cindi. You are so beautiful. Tall, muscular, powerful, sexually confident, compassionate, funny, intelligent, gentle…you get it. She’s awesome. So fucking awesome.

God, I need some Cindi North right now! Like, right now! This very instant.

Now.

But it’s Saturday afternoon, so I’m just a few hours closer to seeing the Divine Muscle Goddess again. I promised last time that I’d bring something other than a bottle of wine, so I better keep that promise. What should I bring? I think something healthy and delicious will give me bonus points with her. Let’s check out what the interwebs can tell me…

Hmmm. Gluten-free Yorkshire pudding? Yuck. That doesn’t sound too appetizing.

I don’t think I should do anything with meat. I’m sure Cindi loves a good steak like anybody else, but she said something healthy, so I better stick to the script on this one. How about…

Oh! Here it is! “Curried couscous and red pepper salad.” That sounds delectable. In fact, that sounds pretty darn good. I think I’ll make that.

I run down the street to the store and buy all the necessary ingredients. While standing in the check-out line I see a former co-worker from Wellford Fitness Center and divert my eyes in order to prevent him from seeing me. When I see him leave, I begin to wonder: does everybody know about me and Michelle? Does everyone there know we got fired because we were caught by the boss going at it like dogs at 10:30 in the morning?

No doubt, but I still don’t want to be seen in public by any of them. Granted, I have nothing to be ashamed about. I mean, what straight guy wouldn’t be proud to have had sex with a gorgeous blonde like Michelle? I’d shake the hand of the guy who’s lucky enough to score someone as hot as her.

Which makes me also wonder: In the past few weeks, I’ve been with a strong female bodybuilder AND a hot blonde. Just thinking about that makes me smile with pride. Knowing I was a virgin not so long ago nearly makes me laugh out loud.

As I prepare this couscous salad, it starts to sink in that I’m going to see the Lovely Muscle Angel in less than three hours. She didn’t give me a specific time to show up, but I’m going to assume 5 o’clock should be acceptable.

The clock on the wall says 4:38. Time to go!

I quickly wrap the bowl of curried couscous and red pepper salad (which I tasted before to make sure it’s good) in plastic wrapping and scurry out the door excitedly. It’s not every day you get to meet up with an amazing muscle woman like Miss Cindi North!

The drive up to Everett zooms by quicker than a fat kid eating a Twinkie (yes, I just used this lousy analogy. Live with it). I decide to go the speed limit instead of flooring the pedal because I can’t afford to get a speeding ticket at this time. I’m broke and unemployed. A fine from Johnny Law would not bode well for me.

When I arrive at her house I notice not a single car is parked near her driveway. Is she not here yet? I’m here a bit before 5 p.m., but she should be expecting me. Maybe she parked her car in her garage. That’s always a possibility.

Just then, out of the corner of my eye I see a trashy blue sedan park right in front of me. I look forward and see a big, burly dark haired woman sitting in the driver’s seat. Yup, that’s her alright!

We both get out of our cars and lock our doors simultaneously. We stare at each other and smile unapologetically.

“Ryan! It’s good to see you! Were you waiting for me for a long time?”

“No. I just got here, literally a minute ago. No, you’re fine.”

Carrying two large grocery bags, Cindi looks as stunning as ever. Dressed in a tight pink top and baggy dark green sweat pants, she seems to become more muscular every time I see her. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Cindi North’s body will never cease to amaze me. Never.

“Come on in. I just did some shopping for dinner tonight. And other things, of course. It’s convenient when the store is right across the street from the gym.”

“I know the feeling.”

Cindi escorts us inside her house. I shut the door close behind me. She immediately heads over to the kitchen to put her groceries away. I follow her, clutching my bowl of curried couscous and red pepper salad tightly in my arms.

“What did you bring, lover?” Cindi asks while putting items away in the refrigerator.

“I made a salad. Something healthy. I hope you like it. It’s a curried couscous and red pepper salad. I tasted it ahead of time. It’s quite good.”

“Wow! That sounds incredible. I can’t wait to try it.” Placing several cans of tomato sauce into a cupboard, Cindi seems to be in a more festive mood than usual.

“You seem upbeat, Cindi. Dare I ask why?”

“Do I? I guess I do feel a bit snazzier tonight. Maybe it’s because I just a modeling job this morning!”

“Really? You got a modeling job? Congratulations. That sounds like a fantastic opportunity.”

“It really is. It’s with this new modeling agency that specializes in featuring unorthodox and nontraditional types of models. As a female bodybuilder, I guess I fit that bill.” Cindi is now pouring salt and extra virgin olive oil into a large soup pot. She turns the stove on to “medium” and takes more items out of her grocery bags, including various vegetables and spices.

“Well, you are a nontraditional looking woman. Not too many ladies around here have as much muscle as you, I must say.” My mouth becomes dry as I scan up and down her buff body.

“Yeah, this is true. I’m happy to get the exposure that comes from modeling. I know they’re a small company and I’m just one of many models they’ve hired, but I get a feeling this is the start of something special!”

An hour later, Cindi puts the finishing touches on dinner. We end up eating a lovely leek and spinach tomato stew served with my salad and a freshly baked baguette. Toward the end of dinner Cindi brings out a delightful bottle of merlot that we nearly finish all at once. A good time was had by all.

“That was delicious, Cindi.”

“Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it. This was a recipe I got from Julie.” Cindi and I clean up the dining table and place our dishes in the sink. I courteously give them a good rinse.

“What’s Julie up to these days?”

“She’s doing great. She’s training for a major competition that I’m going to skip this year. I’ve won it before and I don’t need to win it again. I feel like if I don’t compete she’ll have a better chance of winning.”

“So you think you’ll win again if you decided to compete?”

Cindi turns toward me and stares at me straight into the eyes. Her face is deadly serious.

“Of course. I always win. I’m practically letting her win.”

Silence.

We both burst out laughing. This is what I LOVE about Cindi North. She’s big, strong and tough as nails but she has a huge soft spot underneath all her layers of muscle and brawn. We share a kiss after our laughter dies out.

“You taste delicious, Ryan.” Cindi licks her lips, tasting my essence.

“You taste like leeks,” I deadpan.

Cindi giggles and kisses me again, this time deeper and with more passion. I feel her tongue piercing inside my mouth, exploring me feverously.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Cindi whispers into my ear. I nod my head in agreement. And with that, we walk hand-in-hand up to her bedroom, as if we’ve done this many times before. In a strange and unusual way, it genuinely feels like we’ve done this a million times in the past. I can’t explain why, but this feels SOOOOOOOO right.

We enter her bedroom and instantaneously begin our mating ritual. She closes the blinds and I close the door. We simultaneously turn toward each other and begin our stare-down, like two scruffy gunslingers in the Old West. Cindi walks to me and wraps her strong arms around my entire body. I quiver at the feeling of her vascular, veiny arms poking into my softer skin. I feel my manhood harden as I have to look up to reach her lips.

We kiss. Again. And again, and again, and again. We love kissing. Next to coital penetration, it might be our favorite shared physical activity.

After a moment of stillness, Cindi lifts my shirt over my head and starts kissing my stomach and moves up to my chest and neck. I reach down and pull her sweatpants down, fondling her massive legs one thigh at a time. I feel the deep curves within her strong quads and shiver at their thickness. Cindi licks my Adam’s apple, causing me to squirm in response. She massages the back of my neck in an effort to relax me.

“You smell so good right now,” I whisper into the open. Cindi answers back by gently biting into my shoulder. I tremble as her teeth lovingly sink into my flesh.

Cindi unilaterally strips off her pink top, revealing her wide chest. She’s not wearing a bra, so I immediately suck on her left nipple and stroke the other with my fingertips. Cindi unzips my pants and pulls them down toward my ankles. I kick them away and bend down to remove my socks. Barefoot, Cindi is left wearing nothing but lacy white panties which are already soaking wet. I feel her vulva to get a better sense of her feminine moisture. She smiles.

“I was ready half way through dinner,” she chuckles.

“Why didn’t we starting doing it then?” I ask.

“I wanted to eat first.”

“Well…I want to eat NOW.” I bend down and pull down her panties and begin licking her vulva with all the strength of my tongue. Cindi laughs at my terrible joke but stops when she feels my tongue explore the inside of her intimate parts.

“Make me come, Ryan. Make my come!” Cindi commands, standing there as naked as the day she was born.

I push Cindi onto the bed and she flops down on her back. Surprised at my unexpected display of brute strength, she moans delightfully as I continue to orally satisfy her. Her large clitoris stands at attention, her “little penis” occupying more and more of my attention. I get the feeling Cindi likes a man who takes control in bed. Though I may not be the most experienced lover in the world, I’ve learned a lot in the past few weeks and I’m becoming more comfortable taking the lead.

I grip her hips firmly as my tongue continues to please her beautiful vulva. I then fully concentrate on her clitoris in order to bring her to orgasm. Cindi’s breathing quickens as I continue to massage her girly penis. I stick my right index finger inside of her and find her g-spot.

“Ryan! I love you, Ryan!” Cindi candidly yells out in the heat of passion. Her gorgeous clitoris takes one final tongue lashing before Cindi finally climaxes. I press onto her g-spot when I sense she’s successfully reached her moment of ecstasy.

“Ohhhh!!!!!!” Cindi moans, expressing her pleasure unashamedly. Her vaginal walls contract rhythmically as a modest amount of white milky fluid gradually drips out of her, staining her bedspread.

I remain still as Cindi finishes wriggling around the bed, enjoying the aftershocks of her pleasure. Her breathing subsides to normalcy as my erection lays across her right thigh, ready to be pleased. I lean over and kiss her eight-pack abs, one individual ab at a time. I lick her bellybutton as well.

She briefly starts to stroke my penis, forcing a small drip of clear fluid to escape from it. But Cindi decides now is not the time to satisfy me yet. She gets up in a sitting position and wipes a small amount of vaginal juice that leaked onto her bottom. She kisses me again, sending electric jolts running through my entire system. Her hands explore my hands as her large, strong fingers interlock with my smaller, softer fingers. We look at each other.

“Before I satisfy you, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything, Cindi. I’ll do anything. Just ask.”

Cindi kisses me again, firmly grabbing both of my hands. She takes a few of my fingers into her mouth and sucks on them sensually. I feel like my erection is about to explode, but I contain my excitement and enjoy the pleasure she is giving me.

She leans over and nibbles on my ear. She rubs her saliva onto my fingers.

“Fist me,” she whispers.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Eighteen – The Morning After

At 9:45 a.m. I wake up, vaguely remembering my dream. I think it had something to do with going back to school and finishing a biology exam, but I could be wrong. Who needs to dream when real life is so much more exciting?

I lazily turn to my left and see Miss North snoozing like an angel. Her black and gray hair covers her face, shielding her eyes from the sunlight peeking through the blinds. Lovingly, I pull back a lock of her hair and lightly caress her face.

Cindi stirs, feeling my fingers on her cheek. When she takes my finger into her mouth and sucks on it lightly, I know she has fully awoken.

“Good morning, Cindi.”

“Good morning to you, Ryan. You taste sweet.” Nibbling on my finger, I sense that my penis has also woken up from its slumber. As if she has a sixth sense for these things, Cindi reaches down and strokes up and down my shaft, sending goosebumps shivering up my body.

“Thank you, but you’re much sweeter than me.” Kissing her right breast, I gently take her nipple between my lips and play with it with my tongue. Releasing a hushed moan, her fingers wrap tighter around my manhood, as if she’s grabbing onto it for dear life.

“You sure know how to treat a girl right.”

“You’re welcome. I’m just saying thank you for all you did for me last night.”

“Oh, thanks. But remember, lovemaking is a two-way road. You also did things to me as well, wouldn’t you say?” As if trying to job my memory, Cindi cups my scrotum and tenderly squeezes it. I groan, expressing my pleasure.

“Yes, you’re right about that. A lot happened to me last night, but I’m sure it’s just par for the course with you.”

“Are you calling me a whore?” Cindi sounds genuinely offended.

“No! Of course not! I’m just saying–”

“Shhhhhh!!!! Don’t get so chippy! I’m joking, Ryan.”

Cindi releases my testicles and sticks a finger up my anus, just as I did to her last night in the shower. I gasp loudly, but not with the shock of Cindi intruding my body, but with the delightful astonishment of her returning the favor.

“How does it feel to have a woman penetrate you? Does it feel good?” Cindi’s finger digs deeper inside me, as if she’s claiming ownership over me. I have no qualms about Cindi North claiming me as her own.

“It feels…strange. Is this what it feels like…to…you know, be penetrated back there?” I almost stop breathing. My lungs fill with air, but cannot exhale as long as she’s inside me.

“Yes. Because that’s exactly what’s happening to you right now.” Cindi releases her finger from my bottom and kisses me deeply on the lips, tasting every centimeter of my mouth. Our tongues meet, wrestling like two heavyweights grappling on the mat.

“What shall we have for breakfast?” Cindi asks. I struggle to catch my breath as our lips come apart.

“I have no idea. I don’t live here. What do you suggest we have for breakfast?”

“I know exactly what we should eat.” Cindi kisses me again. Then, she grabs my head with both hands and shoves me down toward her pubic mound. Her enormous clitoris stands at attention, ready to be satiated.

“Eat me for breakfast.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I begin by wrapping my lips around her “little penis,” sucking at its head till I hear Cindi let out a loud, uninhibited groan. I then stick one, then two fingers inside her vagina, exploring her inner walls. They are already moist and hot to the touch.

Cindi spreads her bulky legs wide in a spread eagle formation, opening her womanhood wider to me. I notice a small drop of feminine juice leak out from her vulva. It leaves a small, clear stain on the bed sheet. This arouses me further.

My fingers find her g-spot as my tongue continues to punish her clitoris. Waves of sensation pulse through Cindi’s dynamic body, leaving this muscular angel weak and helpless. She is at my mercy, a feeling of domination that sends surges of adrenaline rushing through me.

A third finger enters her, complimenting what my two fingers are already doing. I lightly blow hot air onto her wet clitoris, causing Cindi to gasp even louder than when I gasped. I am still in shock that a woman could be so well endowed. Her “little penis” grows harder and harder, anticipating a raging orgasm.

Cindi grabs my hair and pulls it, almost lifting my mouth off her womanhood. I resist, remaining between her legs, pleasuring her like she pleasured me last night. My three fingers suddenly thrust against her g-spot, forcing a vulgar scream to bellow from her throat.

Finally, Cindi can’t hold it any longer and she climaxes, sending waves of delight streaming across the entire room. Hell, her climax is probably being felt on the Richter scale at this moment!

A clear jet of white, milky fluid escapes from her vagina as her walls contract powerfully. It leaves a significant stain on the sheets, adding to the previous stain she made earlier.

Holy hell.

HOLY FUCK!!!

Did she just ejaculate? Did I just cause Cindi to ejaculate? I think it did.

Hooooooooooooooooooooooooootttttttttttt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cindi’s breathing calms down and she eventually returns back to planet Earth. Her eyes open and she looks at me, smiling and puffing away.

“Thank you, Ryan. That’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Uh, Cindi, you…kind of…uh…”

“Squirted?”

Her nonchalant answer took me by surprise. I immediately sat up after hearing this singular word escape from her mouth.

“Yes…that’s exactly what I meant. You, um…squirted. All over your sheets.”

“I’ve been known to do that when someone hits my g-spot at the right time with the right amount of force. Congratulations, Ryan. You did something hardly anyone can do without specific instructions.”

I feel proud. Really? Did I just do that? Did I just give her an orgasm so powerful it caused her to ejaculate like a man? WOW!

“Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m proud of the fact that I can squirt as well as any man.”

Cindi sticks out her chest and beats on her breast like Tarzan. I laugh, causing her to laugh with me. She might be a powerful, dominating, muscular woman, but she’s still a softie at heart. I like this about her.

“Are you sure you can squirt as well as any man?”

“Of course. When properly motivated.”

“Men can squirt pretty well when they’re properly motivated, too.” I nibble on her ear. Taking my not-so-subtle hint, Cindi reaches down and grabs onto my penis with both hands, rubbing up and down furiously.

“I think I know what you mean.”

Before I could speak, Cindi kisses me, an electric shock bolting down my spine. Her fingers wrapped tightly around my manhood, with reckless abandon Cindi strokes up and down, causing my vision to blur. On the apex of the proverbial “Cloud 9,” I feel my orgasm build as her right hand surrounds me, refusing to let go.

“I love this, Ryan. I love this so much!” Cindi whispers into my ear, as if she enjoys giving pleasure as much as she enjoys receiving pleasure. At this point, who could argue either way?

Cindi’s thumb brushes against the tip of my penis, making me shudder. Then she grips the base of my manhood and squeezes it suddenly, sending me over the edge. I climax, powerful spasms rocking my entire being.

Five or six squirts later, I look down and see several drops of my semen lying on her bed sheets, shamelessly sprawled out on top of her womanly juices. We kiss again, but with less ferocity and with more passion.

We both look down at the mess we made and burst out laughing for what seems like ten minutes. Can you believe two mature adults, one 48 and the other 23-years-old, just wet the bed?

Our laughter dies down. Tears are rolling down our faces. We kiss again.

“I’m sorry I stained your sheets.” Embarrassed, I must be red in the face.

Cindi kisses my cheek and smiles.

“It’s okay. I did too!”

We burst out laughing again, this time our laughter lasts an eternity.

Eventually, we clean up our mess and toss the bed sheets into the washing machine. She starts a load of laundry, which includes a large pile of workout shirts, shorts and towels. We put our clothes back on and go downstairs toward the kitchen. It’s now time for REAL breakfast!

Cindi doesn’t feel like cooking, so we eat leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. Who knew quinoa still tastes good the next day?

After breakfast, Cindi takes out the laundry from the washer and places it in the dryer in preparation for her Sunday afternoon workout. Cindi tells me today is a chest day. Imagining Cindi bench press 350 pounds is enough to give me another erection. Surprisingly, I remain settled.

“Can you come over again next Saturday? We can do dinner again.”

“Of course! I’d love to. I think I should bring something else instead of just a bottle of wine. I can cook something!”

“You can do that? I’d love for you to bring something. Just make sure it’s healthy.”

“Without a doubt! I’d never bring anything unhealthy here.”

“I’m just kidding. I do have a sweet tooth. I can be very naughty at times.”

“Tell me about it! You are a naughty girl.” I squeeze her thigh. The feel of her large, muscular legs almost gives me a heart attack.

Cindi plants one last kiss on me as I head out the door. Gasping for air, I decide to hug her. We embrace for a very long time, savoring every moment. I should be thankful for this wonderful, gracious woman. She took me into her home, cooked me a delicious meal, took my virginity and treated me to an evening I will never forget. I’ll never forget this morning, either.

“Thanks, Cindi. For everything.”

“No, Ryan. Thank you. You’re a great guy. I’m glad I know you.” We embrace again, this time under the watchful eye of Cindi’s next door neighbors. Who cares if the whole world sees us like this? They can judge all they want. What we do in our own private time is nobody’s business but our own.

“I’m glad I know you, too. Have a good workout.”

“I will. Thank you.”

The short walk back to my car is very surreal. I came to his house yesterday a virgin, but I left a man. A real man. Yes, Cindi told me I was always a man, but this morning things are totally different. I genuinely feel different. I feel more grown up, more confident, more vibrant.

I can take on the whole world! Nobody can get in my way! Watch out, universe. Ryan Takahashi has arrived, and he’s taking no prisoners!!!

I wave one last time to Cindi as I drive away back to Seattle. She waves back, blowing me an air kiss. I almost hit a mailbox, but swerve out of the way at the last second.

As I drive home, I realize I just had six orgasms in the last twelve hours. Gee, I’m going to be so sore tomorrow!

But it will be well worth it.

VEEEEEEEEEEEERY well worth it.