virginity – The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi

A Female Muscle Fan Never Forgets the Moment When He or She Finally “Got It”

A legend of the world of female bodybuilding: Cory Everson.

You never forget your first time.

The first time you ever had sex? Nah, I’m talking about the first time you “got it.”

And by “got it,” I mean the exact moment when you truly understood why muscular women are so unbelievably awesome.

This “ah ha” moment is not just an epiphany, but a wholesale perspective shift of how you view men, women, beauty, sexuality, relationships, biology, and your own hidden desires. Typically known as a “paradigm shift” in academic circles, it’s more than just the moment you realized it was Professor Plum in the Library with the Revolver while playing a lackluster game of Clue with your grandparents. It’s the moment you decided to question every assumption you used to hold about human sexuality and start to ask better and more informed ones.

What exactly do I mean? Let me explain in further detail.

The first time you see a photo or a video clip of a muscular woman is not necessarily the first time you “get it.” I can speak for myself when I say the lightbulb did not turn on instantaneously. It took time. I will admit the first time I remember seeing a picture of a female bodybuilder I was sort of disgusted. It took me aback and forced me to do a double-take. I didn’t say anything out loud, but in my head I knew what I was seeing was both jarring and strangely intriguing.

Did I love the experience or hate the experience? Well, it’s hard to say. Neither, really.

I didn’t realize the exact power and allure of muscular women until much later (adulthood, to be exact), but the seeds were sown. But alas, I still had not experienced my Great Female Muscle Awakening. That happened in college. I’ve summarized my own personal history of female muscle fetishism before, but I’ll briefly recap it again. In short, during my freshman year in college I wanted to avoid the dreaded “Freshman 15” where new college kids who’ve just moved away from home tend to gain upwards to 15 pounds due to poor dieting, excessive drinking, and other shenanigans. Being away from Mom and Dad’s bird nest has consequences, after all.

So, I went out of my way and researched how to best exercise at the gym and avoid gaining extra weight. My school had a modest yet effective fitness center (of course, they completely renovate it the moment after I graduate!) that I would visit a few times a week. I took a weightlifting class in high school two years earlier but figured I should brush up on exercise techniques so I don’t accidentally injure myself.

YouTube and Google Videos were still in their infancy (yes, I’m getting old), but online workout videos did exist nevertheless. Initially, I only watched exercise instructional videos posted by guys. Then, after searching more and more, I started to stumble upon videos posted by women (or videos featuring women). One video in particular struck me.

It’s grainy, embarrassingly pixilated and looks like it was shot with a camcorder from the 1980s. Perhaps it was. But it featured Lisa Marie Bickels, a low-level competitive female bodybuilder, former U.S. Marine, and personal trainer. The video unto itself was not remarkable, well produced, or intended to be well produced. However, it left an indelible impact on me. I had seen photos and a limited number of videos of muscular women before, but this one produced my “ah ha” moment.

No skimpy dress will get in the way of showing off Lisa Marie Bickels' incredible body. — No skimpy dress will get in the way of showing off Lisa Marie Bickels’ incredible body.

In it, Lisa is doing a set of triceps pull-downs at the gym. After finishing, she poses for the camera and flexes her pumped arm. You can clearly see her ripped triceps running down her beautiful arm. I did some further research on Miss Bickels on her website and it then hit me.

She’s beautiful. And powerful. And independent. She’s willing to show off her hard-earned body and I cannot do anything but sit here and stare helplessly.

Whoa. Now I get it.

Lisa was the first FBB I ever saw who was young, undeniably feminine, muscular, and fiercely powerful (both as a person and as an object of beauty). Of course, in the decade that would follow I would view countless more videos of other FBBs doing similar things, but you never forget your first time. Ever.

Like losing your virginity, the first time you ever had sex wasn’t necessarily the best sex you ever had. It was probably awkward. Or painful. You may not have known what you were doing. Maybe you were sweating profusely. Maybe you were drunk, stoned, or nervous as hell. Regardless, it’s still noteworthy because…well, it was your first time. That’s important!

Likewise, Lisa Marie Bickels isn’t necessarily the best or most accomplished female bodybuilder in the world. Nor is she the most famous or best shining example of the beauty of strong women. But she opened my eyes to a whole new world. For that, this hardcore U.S. Marine deserves my respect.

The second part of my “awakening” would happen once I became acquainted with Karen Zaremba. Oh boy, Karen is a thing of beauty! Shortly after discovering Miss Bickels, I inevitably also stumbled upon videos of Karen Zaremba, a 40-something female bodybuilder and mother of two children. Karen is the flip side of the coin to Lisa. Karen is equally gorgeous, feminine, muscular (though not hypermuscular), and enthralling. But she is an older woman. At the time, Lisa looked to be in her mid-20s, which was not far off from where I was as an 18-year-old freshman. But Karen was a game-changer.

How can your perspective not change after discovering Karen Zaremba?

There is, of course, a certain acronym used to describe beautiful women who are also mothers. Out of respect for these wonderful and accomplished women, I refuse to use it. I hope the rest of you do the same. It’s crude, misogynist, and incredibly disrespectful. Don’t use it. Please.

That being said, Karen is without question a gorgeous older woman who instantly cast a spell upon this teenage boy. For the first time, I realized that muscles are the ultimate anti-aging remedy. Normally, middle aged women do not pique the interest of impressionable teenage boys with raging hormones. But Karen did. At the time, I considered her the Most Beautiful Woman I’ve Ever Seen in My Life. Other women would later replace Karen for that title, but a decade ago she was #1.

My discovery of Lisa Marie Bickels and Karen Zaremba set off a firestorm that would result in me starting this blog a few years after graduating from college. I would learn about hundreds of more competitive bodybuilders, fitness models, and “normal” women for whom lifting is more than just a casual hobby. But none of that would have happened without my fateful “awakening” as an 18-year-old kid.

As I mentioned before, that wasn’t the exact moment I first discovered muscular women. There was the cover of Red Sonja (1985) at a video rental store that made me stop dead in my tracks and stare. I’ve never seen this cheesy 1980s action flick starring Brigitte Nielsen and Arnold Schwarzenegger, nor do I ever have the inclination to. But regardless, the cover of the VHS tape caught my attention as a little boy.

Then there was the photo spread of Cory Everson in the 1999 issue of The Guinness Book of World Records. That definitely caught my attention. I reacted to this photo of Miss Everson with a mind-blowing mixture of disgust and arousal. Yes, I will admit that initially I looked upon Cory with repulsion. I’m not proud to admit this, but honesty is the best policy, is it not? However, I cannot deny that a small part of me was captivated by her. I may not have totally liked what I saw, but I could not look away. I spent many hours secretly gazing at this photo in private and wondering all sorts of things about her.

I also grew up watching WWF (now the WWE) and seeing women like Chyna (may she rest in peace), Sable, Jacqueline, Trish Stratus, Debra, and other prance around, beat each other to a pulp, and occasionally show their male counterparts who’s boss. I also grew up watching GoldenEye (1995) on VHS and getting an electric thrill up my spine whenever Famke Janssen’s Xenia Onnatop flashed onto the screen. If episodes of “Xena: Warrior Princess” came on TV, yeah…I’d watch it in the basement without my family finding out!

May I squeeze Charmaine Patterson's bicep? — May I squeeze Charmaine Patterson’s bicep?

So my experience with strong/powerful/muscular women did not start as a college freshman. It began much earlier. But I didn’t “get it” until Miss Bickels and Miss Zaremba entered my life.

So, what exactly did I finally “get?” I have two major observations:

One, I finally saw a superb example of muscularity and traditional femininity working in tandem together like never before.

I didn’t find the photo of Cory Everson arousing, even though I intuitively knew there was something exceptional about it. I did find Famke Janssen and Trish Stratus immensely sexy, but neither of them were very muscular. I knew muscular women existed and I definitely knew beautiful non-muscular women existed, but I never saw the two combined until I encountered Lisa, Karen, and others.

Sometimes, that’s all it takes. It’s not that you’re blind to reality, but rather you just need to see all the elements come together in order for you to believe that it’s possible. As a young teenager I probably knew that a muscular woman could be sexy. I just never thought much about it. It’s not that I doubted this; it just rarely crossed my mind in the first place.

It never occurred to me that a gorgeous woman with muscles can become even more gorgeous. Her muscles can become a complementary asset that accentuates the natural beauty she already has. Her muscles enhance her good looks. I’ve obviously seen beautiful women before. I’ve also seen muscular women before. But it wasn’t until I saw the perfect mixture of the two that my perspective started to change.

Two, I finally realized that muscles can transform a normal-looking woman into an Irresistible Sex Goddess.

I too fell into the trap once upon a time ago that female bodybuilders were sort of freaks of nature who should be admired for their accomplishments but not necessarily seen as objects of desire. Yes, I was also once young and dumb! But I know better now thanks to finally seeing the light.

In addition to realizing that a woman with muscles can be both beautiful and feminine at the same time, I also came to the epiphany that a woman who isn’t considered naturally attractive can transform herself into an epic muscle goddess just by putting on bulk at the gym. I won’t name specific names, but we can probably all think of “homely” women who are hot as hell because their thick legs, bulging biceps, and wide shoulders make them completely irresistible.

Without muscles, these women aren’t much to look at. This sounds like an insult, but it’s not. It’s just a simple observation and a testament to the power of muscularity.

As women who have “earned” their beauty, we applaud them for maximizing who they are as people (not just physically, but also mentally and spiritually) thanks to hard work, sacrifice, and the will to improve day-by-day. Nobody handed them their muscles on a silver platter. They had to expend buckets of sweat for years on end in order to achieve their remarkable physiques.

I now appreciate the beauty of the tall blonde goddess Shawn Tan.

Once you have your “ah ha” moment, you feel silly for not realizing this sooner. You feel foolish for intentionally shutting yourself off from a whole category of human beauty. It’s like a poor person living underneath an ocean of oil or a gold mine. They move to a new city, disgruntled and searching for new economic opportunities. A year or two later, the new property owner randomly stumbles upon a suspicious leak of smelly black fluid seeping from the ground.

And voilà! He or she is now rich and you’re still adjusting to your new surroundings as poor as you were when you left. Shucks!

That’s sort of how I felt when I first discovered my love for muscular women. I felt like I was limiting my scope of the world. I felt like I had a narrow definition of “beauty” that did not include a fraction of what humanity had to offer. But now that my eyes have been opened, I now appreciate women like Annie Rivieccio and Shawn Tan as I did not before. People who do not share my love for these gorgeous ladies are truly missing out!

The reason why you never forget your “first time” is because of how beautiful the experience is of enjoying female bodybuilders. Unlike the virginity comparison, even before you ever start having sex you know that sex is (supposed) to be a pleasurable and amazing experience. But before getting into female bodybuilders, I had no idea about the potential these women had to offer. I could never imagine the world of female muscle could be so incredible and stupefying because it never occurred to me it could be so incredible and stupefying. This is another key aspect of our “awakening.” I knew even as a little boy that sex is a big deal. I had no clue FBBs were also a big deal. See what I mean?

Additionally, not only do you finally “get it,” but you now have the opportunity to indulge in this love over and over again. Those of us who love FBBs and fit women understand what it’s like to enjoy them. The tingling that goes down your spine as you watch a sexy woman deadlift or squat 400 pounds cannot be accurately described. I don’t know if I can do it any justice.

But it doesn’t matter. You know a beautiful experience when you are privileged to participate in one. The Female Bodybuilder High we get is difficult to put into words, but it is indeed a tangible thing. It’s very real, and its power has not diminished in the past 12 or so years of my life.

You never forget the moment you got it. Not because you regret your previous ambivalence toward female bodybuilders, but because you can now celebrate your newfound love for them. Our worlds are now brighter because of this awareness.

Female bodybuilders are beautiful beyond words. The fact we cannot put it into words is telling.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Fifteen – Pillow Talk

I gaze up at Cindi’s alarm clock and see it’s only 7:38 p.m. The night is still young.

Fully calmed down now, I’m confident my crying has stopped. Just for the record, I wasn’t crying as if I were at a funeral. I was weeping softly, totally at the mercy of a sudden flood of emotions.

“What do we do now?” I ask her.

“We talk.” Cindi is now stroking my backside, up and down, exploring every inch of me.

“I can do that.”

I pull my softened penis out of her womanhood and lay on my back next to her. We both let out a deep sigh almost at the same time. Gee, we’re even developing the same patterns of behavior!

“So…do you feel any different?”

I think for a moment.

“I don’t think so. I mean, it just ended. Everything happened so fast.”

“Well, not THAT fast. Remember last time?” Cindi grins.

“Yeah, not as fast as that one moment in my life. Seriously, I don’t know. I need some time for this all sink in.” That was the most honest answer I could give her.

Cindi caresses my soft manhood with tender care. Though exhausted, a sudden tingling sensation rips through my spine. A small drip of semen leaks out from the tip. Cindi wipes it with her index finger and puts it in her mouth. She licks it clean.

“What does it taste like?”

Cindi ponders.

“Like…chicken.”

There’s a long pause.

“I’m kidding! It tastes…like nothing. A little salty, though. But nothing to ride home about.” Cindi proceeds to caress my thighs. I return the favor by stroking her bulging, eight-pack abs.

“Ha! I knew you were joking, but you never know. You can be very serious at times.” It’s true. You don’t expect a beastly woman like Cindi North to be a jolly, happy-go-lucky bundle of enthusiasm. I guess her large muscles play a role in creating that reputation.

“I can be serious. I’m serious when I lift. Very serious.”

“How about Julie, your workout partner? What’s she like?”

“Julie’s a wonderful woman. Very strong. Very beautiful.” Cindi’s gaze wanders into space. Does she have feelings for her? Or is she just her “workout partner?” I want to know.

“Tell me, Cindi. Is Julie…one of your lovers?”

Cindi sits up upon hearing this question and stops stroking my legs. Is this another one of her serious moments?

“Yes. Julie is one of my lovers. I have many lovers. We’ve been in a relationship for about nine years. I love her to death.”

“You don’t live together, do you? I’m just assuming you live here alone.” I’ve never seen anybody here and there doesn’t appear to be any sign that anyone does. However, you never know.

“We don’t live together. Julie lives in Seattle. She drives up here five days a week to workout with me. But don’t feel like you’re in competition with her. I love her as much as life itself. But I also love you, of course.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it! I don’t consider anybody in your life to be “competition.” You’re an independent woman. You’re allowed to be with whomever you want to be with. Man or woman. Doesn’t matter to me.” I try to tickle her belly button. She doesn’t respond to these stimuli.

“Right now, Julie is the only woman I’m intimate with. And as of last week, you’re the only man I’m being intimate with. So consider yourself in very exclusive company.” Cindi resumes stroking my legs and works up to my bellybutton. She tickles it and I, unlike her, react to it. I flinch and she laughs.

“I love this company,” I begin, shuddering from her tickling. “I’d like to meet her. She seems like a very awesome lady.”

“You should! You and Julie would get along great. Just so you know, she’s not interested in men. She’s only interested in women. Strong women; to be more specific. Actually, she’s only interested in me, and I’d like to keep it that way.” Cindi sounds a bit defensive. I’ll try to diffuse any misunderstanding.

“Hey, I’m not saying I want to…you know, get with her. I’m just saying I’d like to meet her. That’s all.” I kiss Cindi’s neck and make my way down to her breasts. She caresses my stomach in return.

“I’m sorry if I sounded a little bitchy. I get possessive over the people I love.”

“There’s nothing inherently wrong with that. If you love her, it’s natural to get jealous over the slightest hint that somebody else might be interested in them.” I’m now licking her enormous biceps, savoring every peak. They taste wonderful.

“I guess you’re right. I am jealous. But I don’t know why.”

“I’m no psychologist. I can’t give you an answer to that. Sorry.”

Silence.

“I love Julie more than any other person on earth,” Cindi confesses.

I sit up and look into Cindi’s eyes. For some odd reason…I feel jealous at this remark. Why should I? She’s allowed to love whomever she wants. I’m just the guy she happens to be with at the moment!

“That’s great. So why is she okay with you having sex with other people?”

“Well, I’m only having sex with you at the moment. She knows about you. I told her all about you last week. She actually wants to meet you, too.”

“Can I take a guess here? She’s okay with you sleeping with other men as long as it’s just that; other men. No women, right?”

Cindi kisses me on the lips and strokes my face.

“Yes, that’s exactly it.” I kiss her in return.

We stare into each other’s eyes. We share another long, passionate kiss. Then we start to hold hands, just like real lovers.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ryan. I really am.”

“You’re glad? I’m the one who should be glad! I just lost my virginity no more than ten minutes ago. To somebody as beautiful as you, no less. I think I’m way more grateful at this moment than you are.” A few of my fingers find her clitoris. I begin to stroke it gently. Cindi jerks in response to this unexpected stimulation.

“It’s not a contest. But I’m definitely proud to be the woman who popped your cherry.” Cindi strokes my penis with her free hand. Oddly, it doesn’t respond. I guess I need a little bit more time.

“Thank you for doing the honors.” My fingers make their way into her vagina. She’s still moist and sensitive to the touch. She stops stroking my penis and instead fondles my testicles. I start to feel my manhood wake up.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Ryan?”

“Go ahead. Now seems like the appropriate time.”

Cindi takes a deep breath, perhaps out of pleasure from my stimulation. I sure hope so…

“What was it like remaining a virgin at 23?”

My fingers stop stroking her vaginal walls. I pull out, wiping her juices on my leg. She senses my awkwardness at hearing her question.

“Well, to be honest, it was really embarrassing. Really embarrassing. Most of the people I know lost their virginity in high school, some in middle school, or at the very least college. But I remained one until this very evening. It’s pretty embarrassing. Even though I don’t think anybody else knew; that knowledge was enough to make me feel…terrible on the inside.”

Cindi kisses me on the cheek. Her tongue explores the right side of my face. Wow! She can lick my face all she wants. I won’t object.

“To be honest, I used to snicker at people who lost it after turning 20. But now I realize we’re all different and it doesn’t matter when it happens, if at all. What really matters is if we’re happy.” Cindi’s honesty is refreshing. She’s not afraid to say what’s on her mind, even if it makes her look bad.

“But now that I’m no longer a virgin, I feel a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel more complete, more of an adult. I feel more like an adult than the time I landed my first job. Somehow, that experience wasn’t as thrilling as I thought it was going to be.” Cindi’s tongue is now lapping across my left nipple. My penis starts to slowly rise back to life. I feel my heartbeat up its tempo. I think a drip of sweat is trickling down my back.

“Like I told you before, you’ve always been a man. You’re more of a man than a lot of men I’ve met in my life. And I’m not lying when I say that,” Cindi assures me, wrapping her right hand around my penis while her left hand explores my chest. This woman knows how to touch a man!

God, I must be the luckiest guy in the world right now.

“You’re awesome, Cindi. You really are. You’re the nicest, most compassionate woman I’ve ever encountered. You’re also definitely the sexiest.”

I return her strokes by stroking her bulging biceps. I swear she has biceps growing on top of her other biceps. She has at least three different levels of biceps developing on her arms.

“What makes me the sexiest woman you’ve ever met?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious? Look at you.”

“I’m not that pretty.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m–”

“Are you saying I’m ugly?” Cindi is teasing me, I’m sure. She’s still gripping my penis like it’s a stick shift in her racing car at the Indy 500. If she grips any harder, she might tear it off!

“No! Of course not! I’m not saying you’re ugly. You’re not ugly! You’re the–”

“I know, Ryan. I’m kidding! You said I’m beautiful. I believe you when you say that.” She releases my penis and holds my hand instead. I think I like this movement better. By now, my manhood is fully re-engorged and ready for action.

“What I mean to say is that your muscles are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO incredibly sexy. You’re so strong it boggles my mind. Just look at your biceps. They’re huge! How large are they?”

“At my peak, they can be up to 19 inches around. But right now, I’m guessing probably 17 inches. Maybe 17 and a half, if I’m lucky.”

“Do you have a sewing measuring tape?”

“I’m a professional bodybuilder. Of course I have a sewing measuring tape.”

“Here’s a question: can we measure your muscles?”

“We could, but why do you want to measure my muscles?”

“Because I want to know exactly how big you are. It would turn me on.”

A wicked grin develops across Cindi’s face. A strong surge of electricity jolts down my spine when I see her pearly white teeth shining at me.

“I think you’re already turned on.” She looks down at my erection and continues to grin wildly. I know exactly what she’s thinking. Luckily, I’m thinking the exact same thing.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Cindi North?”

“I think I am, Ryan Takahashi.”

“Round two?”

“Round two.”

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Fourteen – Losing My Virginity

Cindi carries me all the way up to her bedroom (which includes a long flight of stairs) as if I were as light as a feather. But I’m not actually light as a feather. This is a testament to her tremendous strength.

The entire time she’s carrying me we kiss like there’s no tomorrow. To hell with it; tomorrow can wait. Today, in this moment, it’s all about us.

Cindi and Ryan.

Two friends.

Who are about to express their newfound friendship through the act of physical love.

By now I know where her bedroom is so I take every opportunity to kiss Cindi and stare deeply into her eyes. I almost forget I’m being carried by her like a baby in arms. Cindi can carry me around all day and I’d never feel emasculated by it.

When we get to her bedroom she flips on the light switch and drops me on my feet. Dazed and confused, my head is swimming with all the possibilities of what is about to happen. I’m about to make love to Cindi North: The Divine Muscle Goddess, The Most Muscular Woman in the World, the Female Hercules.

Opportunities like this don’t happen every day!

Cindi closes the door and walks over to the window to pull down the blinds. She turns to me and beckons me to come to her.

“Come.”

I do as I’m told.

I approach her with the hesitancy of a naughty child visiting the principal’s office. She cups my face and plants a long, wet kiss on my lips. I feel her tongue wrestling my tongue into submission. Holy shit. Even her TONGUE is powerful! Is there nothing about this woman that isn’t strong?

“You taste good,” Cindi says.

“That’s because I just ate your cooking.”

Cindi giggles. “That’s what I like to hear!”

She expresses her gratitude by nibbling on my ear. I’d nibble back if I were a good eight inches taller. It must be weird seeing such a large woman have to bend so far down to display affection for her man. I stroke her back to return the favor.

“Strip me. Strip me now.” Cindi moans as my tongue explores her neck. I follow her orders by lifting her t-shirt off her body. I struggle to wrap my arms around her thick chest. Cindi cooperates by taking off her shirt for me.

“You’re so strong. I love it.” I’m completely hypnotized by her bulging muscles.

“Thank you. I take pride in my strength.”

Cindi isn’t wearing a bra. Her small, flat breasts still look tempting to touch. I pinch both of her nipples gently, making Cindi let out another moan. I cup both of her breasts in my hands, feeling her femininity in a way no other man could. Some men are scared of her. Some men are disgusted by her. Not me. I am enamored by her. Every inch of her. That’s the difference between me and most other men.

Out of nowhere, Cindi lifts my shirt off my back so quickly I barely even notice it. She squats down and kisses my abs (yes, I do have some visible abdominal muscles going on!!!) with a delicate finesse of an experienced seductress. Before I know it, she unbuckles my belt and lowers my pants to the floor. I kick them off to the side as Cindi removes my socks.

“You’re beautiful, Cindi.”

“Save the compliments for later. Let your actions do the talking.”

“Alright, if you insist.” I lean over and pull her sweatpants to the floor. Her tree trunk thighs welcome me, insisting I kiss them. I oblige, sending a long streak of kisses down her left leg. The feel of her veins against my lips makes me quiver with need.

Naked except for our underwear, Cindi and I look at each other to size ourselves up. Clearly, she is the physically dominant one in this relationship. I’m puny compared to her.

“There’s only one piece of clothing left,” she says.

“Let’s lose it,” I suggest.

With that, we both strip off our underwear and look at each other’s bodies. Cindi’s muscles look as large as ever. She looks even bigger naked than when she’s fully clothed. Every detail of her heavenly body is on display here in this room. My penis is fully engorged and standing at attention, ready to meet its destiny.

Cindi pulls back the covers on her bed and sits down on it. Her face becomes serious.

“I have a serious question to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want to use a condom?”

“What? Excuse me? You’re asking me if I want to use a condom? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I always thought men never had a choice in the matter.”

“Not in this case. So I’ll ask you again. Do you want to use a condom? I have a whole box of them in my dresser drawer. I’ll be glad to take one out.”

“Uh, sure. We should to be safe.”

“Safe from what? Diseases? Are you saying I might have some sort of STD?”

“No! I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about pregnancy. You know, that process that creates babies.”

“Don’t worry about pregnancy. I’m too old for that.”

“But you’re 48. Women at that age can still have children, right?”

“Some might. But not me. Trust me, Ryan. I’m done with that part of my life. I have four kids and I don’t plan on having any more. We’re safe.”

“Okay, if you insist. No condom then.”

“Great! I’m glad you think the same way. Nothing beats the feeling of a pure man inside of you.”

And just like that, when she uttered the words “inside of you,” my heart leaped into my throat. I’m actually about to enter into a woman! I’m about to do it, I’m on the verge of crossing that sacred threshold between virginity and…uh, non-virginity. Manhood, or manliness, or something like that. I’m about to become a man!

“I know you’re excited. Don’t worry. We can take it slow, darling.” Cindi’s reassuring attitude calms me down. I want to make lover to her soooooooooooooo badly, but I don’t want to do anything foolish or embarrassing. I still remember what happened last week.

“Kiss me, Ryan.”

“Yes, Cindi.”

I sit on the bed next to her and kiss her lips fervently. I linger to taste her feminine essence. She caresses my right leg with one hand and rubs my neck with the other. I reach down and lightly press my middle and index finger against her enlarged clitoris. Fully engorged and hot to the touch, I rub it lovingly, stroking back and forth, up and down, side to side, whatever it will take to please her.

I want to please her. Badly.

Cindi groans loudly as my fingers increase their intensity. She falls on her back and raises her arms over her head. Her long, thick legs shake as my two fingers pinch her clitoris as I continue to stimulate her. With my free hand, I stick three fingers inside her vagina. Her womanhood welcomes my penetration, hot and moist, ready for her impending climax.

While my two hands work simultaneously to bring Cindi to orgasm, I take one of her nipples into my mouth and suck on it with reckless abandon. By now Cindi is moaning loudly, her deep masculine voice sending bellowing vibrations across the entire room. She is close and I know it.

Finally, Cindi climaxes and I feel her strong vaginal muscles contract around my fingers. I ease off her swollen clitoris and watch her body shake like an earthquake. Cindi’s heavy breathing makes me think about her pumping iron at the gym. Is this what she sounds like when she’s bench pressing or bicep curling?

I notice a small moisture stain between her legs on the bed sheet. This turns me on even more.

“God, that was amazing. I’ve missed that. Thank you.” Cindi’s heavy breathing subsides.

“You’re welcome. My pleasure.”

“Uh, no. My pleasure! And now, I shall return the favor.”

Sweating bullets, Cindi repositions herself so her head rests against the pillow and I’m on my knees looking down on her. She spreads her legs wide, inviting me to enter her Temple.

“Take me. Now.”

I have no response to that. None at all.

I look down at my penis and realize this is the last moment in my life that I’ll be a virgin. No more wondering what sex is like. No more being a loser. It’s time, Ryan. It’s time to become a man. A real man. It’s time to cross that sacred threshold and live life to the fullest!

We look at each other’s eyes. She’s grinning, exposing every age line on her face. I have no idea what expression I’m currently sporting. She nods, telling me to do it. She wants me to do it. She wants me to enter her.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, exhale, open my eyes, take one quick glance at Cindi’s face, look down at her moist engorged vulva, pinch the base of my erect penis with two fingers, grab her hip with my other hand, and….

I enter her.

With one smooth, gentle and loving movement, my penis enters Cindi North’s vagina.

Wow.

As we speak, at this particular moment, my penis is now inside a woman’s body. And not just any woman. A strong, dynamic, physically dominating female bodybuilder.

She feels warm inside. I can’t describe it any better than that. Warm. I peer up at her face and see Cindi has an even larger grin on her face. She feels proud of me, without a single judgmental bone in her flawless body.

“Make love to me, Ryan Takahashi.”

Once again, I fail to come up with a verbal response.

With me on top, I slowly rock back and forth, completely improvising everything. This is my first time! I have no idea what comes next. I’ve seen tons of movies and pornos, but this is the REAL DEAL!!! No amount of watching sex on camera can prepare you for this.

My pace increases as I gain confidence. Cindi kisses my neck and chest as I continue to pump into her. My strokes in and out of her become longer and more authoritative as I feel my orgasm build. I almost forgot, I’m supposed to experience pleasure from this too! I was so caught up in the idea of loving my virginity that I completely forgot about, you know…having fun.

Silly me.

My breathing intensifies as my orgasm engulfs my entire being. Cindi, meanwhile, grabs my face and kisses me hard. I quietly call out her name as our lips come apart. She calls out my name in response. We stare deeply into each other’s eyes as I reach my inevitable climax.

Nothing else matters now. There is no other world outside of this bedroom. Right now, all that matters is Cindi and me. Nothing else. For all I care, we could be the only two people on this Earth. There is no one else other than me and…

Oh, yes! YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

With one last thrust, I reach the climax of my orgasm and release five hot squirts of semen into her. A couple of smaller squirts follow afterward. Maybe it’s because I’m caught up in the moment, but that might be the most pleasurable orgasm I’ve ever felt. Real sex is SOOOOOOOO much better than masturbation!

My spasms finally end. I kiss Cindi once more, this time with emotion. I feel my eyes water as I kiss her. I think I’m crying.

Wow. I never cry. But here I am, weeping like a baby. What’s making me do this?

Sensing my flood of emotion, Cindi strokes my hair and rubs my bottom. Still hard as a rock, my penis continues to be lodged inside her even though my ejaculation has finished. I let out a deep sigh and collapse onto her. Cindi hugs me affectionately.

“That was amazing, Cindi.” I can hardly think right now. There are too many emotions running through my mind. My heart is content beyond words. I’m not that excited that I lost my virginity. I’m happier that I got to make love to a wonderful, strong, compassionate woman.

“I agree. That was amazing.”

We say nothing for what seems like forever. All this time we’re laying in each other’s arms, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. Though softer and smaller now, my penis has still not left her vagina yet.

“I feel like a man now,” I finally manage to speak.

Cindi turns her head toward me and kisses my cheek.

“No, Ryan. You were always a man.”

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Eight – My Small Asian Penis

“Please don’t get me wrong, Ryan. I love your body. You have a very nice body.” Cindi assures me.

I sense a “but” somewhere.

“Thank you, Cindi. But I think you’ve just let the cat out of the bag.”

Cindi strokes my thigh and works up to my scrotum. I think now is the best time to talk about something like this. And believe it or not, we still haven’t had “sex” yet. Am I still a virgin, or does oral sex count as actual sex (insert your own presidential joke here)?

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think you’re small down there. I’m serious.”

“Look, you don’t have to be nice to me. I don’t think I’m tiny, but I know for a fact that I’m not big. You at least have to admit that.”

Cindi kisses me on the shoulder and starts to rub up and down my flaccid shaft. It shows no signs of life.

“Let’s not talk about this.”

“I sort of…do want to talk about this. It’s a major insecurity of mine.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. We’ve all heard the stereotype, right?”

I look straight into Cindi’s dark black eyes. She stops stroking me and understands this is a “serious” conversation. Cindi sighs.

“That Asian men have small penises?”

“Yes. That stereotype.”

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Very much. It hurts deeply. But not in a way that makes me angry. In a way that makes me feel…less of a man.”

This revelation causes Cindi to hug me tightly. The feel of her strong arms wrapping around my body sends shivers down my spine. I wonder if she can feel that.

“You’re a man. There’s no doubt about it. You’re definitely a man. You’re more of a man than a lot of men I’ve met.”

“Really? How so?”

“I’ve met hundreds of male bodybuilders in my life. Most of them are very nice, but some can be total douchebags. When I work out at the gym, I hear what guys talk about. There’s so much sexism in weight rooms.”

I nod my head in agreement. “Tell me about it. At the gym I work at, I meet tons of guys who are total jerks. I don’t talk to them.”

Cindi massages my shoulders with her strong hands. I feel my penis start to come to life, but I still need some more time.

“But you’re different, Ryan. You’re kind, respectful, smart, funny and the total opposite of a douchebag.”

“Thank you. I try to be nice.”

“That’s why I invited you up here to my home. That’s why I felt comfortable to take you to my bed. From the moment I saw you at the coffee shop, you looked like a nice boy. You’re someone I can talk to without having to be someone else.”

“Someone else? Who else can you be?”

“It’s complicated, but for a female bodybuilder like me, you have to take on several personalities. You have to be strong, but feminine. You have to be tough, but nurturing. You have to be muscular, but still sexy. You have to be strong-willed, but still approachable. That sort of thing.”

“Is there a lot of pressure for FBBs to act a certain way?”

The question causes Cindi to fall to her back and stretch out. The sight of her eight-pack abs lying right beside me is enough to make my penis half-engorged.

“Oh, I could write a whole book on that subject. We’ll save that for another day.”

Cindi releases another sigh and I lie down on my side and stroke her abs. I admire her chiseled body like it’s a piece of valuable art. As far as I’m concerned, her body is art.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, Cindi?”

She purrs like a cat as I stroke her tummy. I think she appreciates my appreciation of all her long, hard hours working out at the gym.

“Go for it. In this room, there are no such things as personal questions. This is a no-bullshit zone.”

“Alright.” I let out a sigh of my own. “Does size really matter?”

The look on Cindi’s face changes from mellow to full-of-concern. It appears she’s struggling to find the proper words to answer my question.

“Honestly?”

“Yes. Honestly. I want to know your opinion.”

Silence.

“For me, size does matter,” Cindi finally says.

My mouth forms a defensive smile. Inside I feel like I want to scream bloody murder.

“Really?”

Cindi gets up and wraps her muscular arms around me again. She kisses my shoulder again (this is a move she’s done a few times before. What’s with her and kissing shoulders?)

“Yeah. Size does matter for me. Do you want to know more?”

“Yes. As unusual as that sounds, I do want to know more. Do you not want to share?”

“No, no. I have nothing to hide. I’m perfectly willing to share anything. Well, I’ve had many sex partners, both men and women. As far as men are concerned, the best sex I’ve ever had was with men who were, more, uh, better endowed.”

“Uh huh.” This is my cue for her to continue speaking. She takes the hint.

“One lover of mine, his name was Jake, was a fellow bodybuilder. He was a natural bodybuilder who competed at a lot of the same shows as me. We became casual friends after a few encounters and quickly became lovers. He was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. He was tall, muscular, handsome as a movie star and gentle as a can be. We made love constantly.”

“How long were you in a relationship with him?”

“A long time. About eleven years. He’s the father of my third child.”

“Were you close to marrying him?”

“Very close. We were briefly engaged, before I caught him with another woman. His ex. Apparently, he hadn’t completely gotten over her. That was eleven years down the drain.”

“But you had a child with him.”

“True, so I suppose there were benefits. But he was a beautiful man, even though he broke my heart.”

I quickly change the subject.

“So…he was a good lover?”

“Yes! He was obviously beautifully built, but even more impressive was his penis. God, it was gorgeous. That penis was a work of art.”

“How big was it?”

“We measured him one time. Fully erect, he was seven and a half inches long.”

Seven and a half inches long? Holy shit!!!

“That’s…big. Very big. I’m not nearly as big.”

Ironically, it was at this moment that my erection returned. Right on schedule. Cindi sees it and strokes it tenderly. What was she thinking as she stroked my small penis? Was she longing for the days when Jake was ramming his mammoth manhood into her?

“Don’t worry about that. You’re fine. Just fine.”

“How do you know? We haven’t had sex yet.”

Cindi kisses me on the lips and cups my face. She looks directly into my eyes.

“Darling, don’t compare yourself to others. Ever. You’re a beautiful man, regardless of how you measure up to other guys. Size isn’t the only thing that’s important during sex.”

Size isn’t the only thing that matters? Was she being serious or was she lying? I had to know.

“What else is important?”

Sensing my insecurity, Cindi kisses my neck (wow, she can kiss me all day and I’d never complain!) before she speaks. Her face expresses concern, respect and oddly, love.

“First, love has to be there. And I don’t necessarily mean love between life partners, or soul mates, or anything like that. Love between two people.”

“Do you sense that type of love between us?”

“Strangely enough, yes I do. I do sense a certain type of love between us. Do you respect me?”

“I have nothing but respect for you.”

“Good. I respect you as well. Do you want me to be happy?”

“Everyone deserves happiness.”

“Great. I want you to be happy too.”

I kiss her lips. She kisses me back. Her left hand strokes my penis as her right hand interlocks with mine. My free hand starts to rub her enormous clitoris.

“In that case, we do love each other. We’re lovers.”

I laugh. “That’s funny considering we just met each other.”

“It is funny, but do you feel that special feeling for me?”

I think about it for a moment. The more I thought about it, the more I understood what she was saying. I do feel a degree of affection for her. Cindi North, a female bodybuilder, is a woman I am falling in love with. How can this be?

“Yes, I feel that special feeling toward you. Lover.”

Maybe it was the way I said the word “lover,” but Cindi looks very touched and a single tear falls down her cheek. I wipe it away and taste it. She tastes sweet.

“I want to make love to you, Cindi,” I whisper in her ear.

Did I just say that? Did that just come out of my mouth? As if she’d just been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer, Cindi kisses me on the cheek and stands up.

“Not tonight. Not tonight. Maybe next time,” she says.

“Did I do something wrong?” I feebly ask.

“No, not at all. I just think we should hold off on that until later. It’s just that…we’ve done enough for one night. We don’t want to use up all our tricks at once, right?”

I ponder about what she’s telling me. If she’s implying that there’s going to be a “later,” does that mean she likes me? Or at the very least, does this mean she tolerates me and wants to see me again? And why did she just suddenly get up? Is she falling in love with me too? I’m starting to have feelings for her, which makes no sense. We just met. Life can be so complicated!

“Do you want to see me again?” I meekly ask her.

She grins.

“The better question is: do you want to see me again?” she replies.

“Yes, Cindi. No doubt about it. I definitely want to see you again!”

“Good,” Cindi says, getting up and putting on her panties. It’s amazing how such a small piece of clothing can fit around her enormously tight butt. “I have to be at the gym tomorrow at 9 a.m. sharp. My weight training partner will be waiting for me.”

I take the hint and start to put my clothes back on. I marvel at Cindi as she stretches in front of a tall mirror. The marvelous structure of her amazing body will never get old to look at. I could stare at her lovely figure all day if I could. But, alas, my time tonight has come to an end.

“Who’s your training partner?”

“One of my best friends. Her name is Julie.”

“Is she the one who took the picture of you at the beach?”

“You mean the photo I sent you? Yes, she did. How’d you know?”

“A wild guess,” I say, now fully dressed. Cindi puts on a white silk bathrobe and escorts me out the door. My erection subsides.

As we walk down the stairs, I look up at a clock and see it’s nearing 11 p.m. Gee, where did the time go? Cindi takes me back to the living room and turns toward me.

“Did you have a good time?” she asks.

“Despite my, uh, unflattering beginning, yes. I did have a good time. Did you?”

“I had a great time. It’s been a while since a man has pleased me orally.”

“When was the last time a woman pleased you orally?” I ask jokingly.

Cindi laughs and snorts. She’s cute when she snorts, I’ve decided.

“You’d be surprised, Ryan honey. Do you need help finding your way home?”

“Nah, I can figure it out on my own. It’s just a bunch of backtracking.”

Neither of us says anything for a moment. We both know what needs to come next. Finally, she speaks.

“Do you want to come back here next Saturday night? You can come earlier and we could do dinner. I’ll make something nice and healthy.”

“Yes! That sounds great. When would be a good time?”

“Oh, I usually finish my Saturday workout at 4ish, so how about 5 o’clock? You can bring a bottle of wine. That could be your contribution.”

“A bottle of wine. I can handle that. I’ll be here right on the dot.”

“Great. I’ll see you then. Good night, Ryan,” she says, pecking me on the cheek.

I lean over, look up at her (remember, Cindi’s well over six feet tall) and kiss her back on the lips. The kiss lingers for a long time, as if it’s an expression of gratitude more than a way of saying good bye. Our lips come apart and I walk out the door toward my car.

Every single memory of what just transpired during the last few hours rush back to me. I don’t think I’ll be able to fully comprehend what I just experienced until tomorrow morning. I return to my car, start the engine and look back to see Cindi waving at me. I wave back as I drive off toward I-5. My evening with Cindi North has just come to an end.

And what a night it was.

The drive home did not take long. I drive carefully, seeing numerous cop cars on patrol looking for drunks. Finally, I reach my apartment and release a deep sigh as I close the door. I really need a shower. Badly. All that oral sex made me sweat bullets. I probably lost a lot of weight between sweating in anticipation, sweating during our bedroom time and my two ejaculations. Holy shit. Did all that just happen to me?

After turning on the hot water I undress and look down at my penis. My small Asian penis. I look at it not with scorn or embarrassment (as I would in a gym locker room), but with pride. Hell, my little penis was inside a strong, muscular woman’s mouth not too long ago. That’s quite an accomplishment for someone who’s still technically a virgin (I guess you need to do the whole “vaginal penetration” thing before you officially lose your virginity). Tonight, I look at my small penis proudly.

“We did it, little buddy. Maybe not all the way, but it’s a great start. We did it.”

I hop into the shower, clean myself, dry off, brush my teeth and collapse into bed. I must have fallen asleep instantly because I don’t remember much after that.

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Five – The Art of Seduction

The walk back to her house did not take long. I lag slightly behind, watching her amazingly tight butt jiggle as she took each step. God, I want to cup her bottom and squeeze her cheeks together. Better yet, I want to feel her entire body. I want to explore every inch of her. I want to experience this woman in every sensual way possible.

Shit. I’m about to get my chance!

My heart is beating louder than a horse galloping across a meadow. Cindi appears calm, as if what we’re about to do is no big deal to her. Hell, she’s had four children from four different men. Sex isn’t exactly one of her personal taboos.

“How are you feeling?” Cindi asks.

“I’m feeling well. I’m, uh, excited.”

“Excited? Good. I’m looking forward to this too.”

She’s actually looking forward to sleeping with me? Hell yes!

Cindi gets out her keys and unlocks the front door. I’m amazed her thick legs can fit into those skintight pants.

“After you.”

“Thank you.”

I enter her house and look around. She turns on the lights and I see a very well-put-together home. There are floral arrangements, art decorations, comfortable furniture and photos from her bodybuilding career sprawled across her living room walls. I’m not much of an expert in interior decorating, but I can tell she has proper aesthetic taste.

Speaking of well-put-together, Cindi closes the door and takes off her shoes. I follow suit.

“This is my home. Do you like it?”

“Oh, yes. It looks very nice. Did you decorate it yourself?”

“Believe it or not, no. I had a friend help. He’s gay.”

I laugh.

“He has good taste. I like the painting over there.”

I point to a portrait of a tall, muscular Amazon woman posing triumphantly after brutally slaughtering a large group of male warriors. The Amazon woman doesn’t seem to resemble Cindi, but the parallels are strikingly evident.

“I’m glad you like it. He didn’t paint it, but he found it for me at an art auction. I have mixed feelings about it.”

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t like violence. I believe a woman can be stronger than a man, but violence isn’t the way to show it. Strength and violence should never be seen as one and the same.”

I think about that for a moment.

“That’s very deep. I don’t like violence either. That explains why I’ve never been in a fight.”

“Have you ever had the chance to be in a fight?”

“Well, not a traditional fist fight. I’ve been involved in a few verbal arguments, but none of them led to anything but hurt feelings and toys being taken away.”

Cindi smiles. I notice she doesn’t wear makeup. That makes her even hotter. God, this woman is unbelievably sexy. I want to rip off her clothes right now and-

“Would you like something to drink? I know you didn’t want coffee, but would you like something stronger, like a beer or a glass of wine?”

I shake my head. “No thanks. We can drink later.”

Uh oh. Did that just slip out? Did I just say that? Did I just imply that we’re going to do something else before drinking alcohol?

“Later? You mean, after we have our fun?”

My stomach turns inside out. I think my heart just leaped into my throat. I think I know exactly what she means by “fun.” I hope we’re on the same page.

“Yes, after we have our bit of fun.”

Cindi leads me into the living room. She fills the entire room. I still can’t get over how large of a body she has. She’s well over six feet tall and is as husky as a pro football player. Hell, she’s built like a defensive end and could probably play the position at the NFL level. Would they accept a woman into professional football? Probably not. In Cindi’s case, they’d probably be afraid she’d hurt too many players.

She sits down on a light blue couch and motions for me to sit down next to her. She stretches her long, powerful legs onto a coffee table and perches them on top for me to gaze at. Is she showing off herself to me? I’d prefer if her clothes were gone.

“Ryan, before we do anything further, I think we should set some ground rules. Do you agree?”

“Yes, we should definitely set up boundaries. We’re both adults here. We don’t want anything to get out of hand.”

“Good boy. As we both discussed before, we’re not looking for anything long term. A long term relationship is not something I’m seeking right now. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am. That is clear.”

Cindi smirks.

“Don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ That makes me feel old.”

“Sorry, ma’am.”

She chuckles. “Smartass.”

I chuckle back. If this isn’t seduction, I don’t know what is. I read somewhere using humor is a great way to seduce a woman before taking her to bed. Is this true? I sure hope so.

“Second, because I don’t know you too well and you don’t know me, we’ll keep it simple for now. Just regular, normal, vanilla sex. Nothing fancy. If we decide we want this to become an on-going thing, we can discuss that at a later time.”

“Agreed.”

“Third, there’s no guarantee this thing’s going to last beyond tonight. My instinct about you is that you’re a harmless boy looking for some fun. If you prove to be anything other than harmless, this stops immediately. Is that understood? I’m bigger and stronger than you so I can easily fight back if things get rough.”

“Trust me, I have no intention to do anything out of the ordinary. And I would never want to get on your bad side. That could prove fatal for me.”

“Good. Am I sounding like a police officer reading you your Miranda Rights?”

“Close. You sound like a skydiving instructor teaching me how to jump out of an airplane.”

“Hm. I wouldn’t know. I’ve never skydived before.”

“Neither have I. But I hear it’s fun.”

Why the hell are we talking about skydiving?

“Why the hell are we talking about skydiving?” she asks.

Wow. We’re thinking the same thoughts. This is a good sign.

“Lastly, once we get into bed, anything goes. Except one thing: pain. I don’t like pain. I’m not into that. Are you?”

“No way. I’ve never tried that sort of thing and I’m not willing to experiment quite yet.”

“Then again, you’ve never really experimented with anything yet, have you?”

REALLY? Are you really doing this, Cindi? Bringing my virginity into the discussion?

“Hey! I take offense to that!” I retort.

Her face instantaneously expresses guilt.

“I’m so sorry! I apologize profusely. Did I really offend you?”

“Whoa! No, not really. But, uh, it’s kind of a sensitive subject. Not exactly something you’re proud of, you know what I mean?”

Cindi’s expression softens.

“Yes, I know what you mean. I didn’t mean to offend you. That’s something I hate more than anything. Disrespecting someone. That disgusts me.”

“Me too. Like I said, don’t worry. I’m not offended too easily.”

There is a long, awkward pause. Cindi shifts around in her seat while I look strangely at her socks. She has black socks. How many women wear black socks?

“Would you like to see my bedroom?”

Oh baby. Could the answer to that be any more obvious?

“I would love to, Cindi.”

“Good. Follow me.”

And with that, she gets up and walks out of the room toward a staircase leading up to the second floor. I follow her meekly and watch her amazing body travel up the stairs. Her impeccable butt sways from side to side as she struts. I want to explore every inch of her body. Every inch. And I mean every inch. The walk back from the coffee shop didn’t take long, but this short walk up the staircase is taking an eternity!

We stop on the second floor. There are cute little porcelain figures sitting on a shelf and more artworks portraying powerful naked women dominating men. I see a pattern here.

Her bedroom is at the end of a long hallway stretching across the entire house. I continue to gaze upon her body with awe as she pushes open the door and beckons me into her bedroom. Her bedroom. Her temple. The place where her body, the real Temple, sleeps at night. This is holy ground that I am now walking on.

Cindi closes the blinds on her bedroom window. Her movements are deliberate yet nonchalant. She has the uncanny ability to act very feminine while sporting large, masculine-sized muscles. It is this dual nature that defines her unique beauty.

“Close the door, please,” Cindi quietly commands.

I abide.

“Thank you,” she says after I shut the door behind me.

Cindi takes a long moment to look at me. I feel every fiber in my body tensing up. I could die of a heart attack right here. My breathing stops. Her dark brown eyes pierce into me like a sharp dagger. Is she staring into my soul? Or is she toying with me?

“Did you bring a condom like I asked?”

That sudden question wakes me from my spell.

“I did, but they’re in my car. I can go get them if you’d like me-”

“That’s okay. I have plenty right here.”

She opens her dresser drawer and takes out an unopened box of lubricated condoms. She rips open the box with her right index finger like a steak knife going through warm butter. She tears off a single condom wrapper and places it on top of her dresser. I watch her toss the box back into the drawer and close it shut. This shit is REALLY getting real now.

“Come here,” Cindi instructs me.

“Uh, okay,” I weakly respond.

“Don’t be shy. I won’t hurt you. I may look intimidating, but I won’t bite.”

Don’t be intimidated? How can I not be intimidated by a tall muscular woman who could bend and break me in half with her bare hands? How could I not be a little scared by a woman with biceps the size of cantaloupes?

I slowly approach her like a high priest entering the Temple of Solomon. When we’re less than two feet apart she reaches out and cups my face with both her hands. She bends down and kisses me on the lips. Her callused fingers feel like leather boots rubbing against my cheeks. Her lips are soft as silk and sweet as fresh fruit. I want to taste her over and over again.

“Your lips are sweet,” I say to her.

“Thank you. You smell nice,” she says.

Before I can say anything in response, Cindi tugs at my shirt and lifts it above my head. She drops it to the floor as she begins to kiss my neck. I feel a bit insecure being shirtless in front of a supremely muscular woman, but my insecurities take a back seat to the extreme arousal I am feeling at the moment. Cindi squats down and unfastens my belt. My erection is very visible. She unzips my jeans and lowers them to the floor.

“I don’t care what anybody says. I think you have a nice body,” Cindi says.

She thinks I have a nice body? Yowza! My confidence just increased by 400%.

“Not as nice as yours,” I say.

“It’s not a contest. Just take the damn compliment.”

I laugh. She laughs back as I kick off my pants and take off my socks. Cindi pinches the sides of my underwear and drags them to my ankles. I step out of them and kick my clothes off to the side with my feet. I am now completely naked.

Cindi takes a step back and inspects my body from head to toe. How do I stand a chance against all the male bodybuilders she must meet on a regular basis? Yes, I work out often enough, but I’m a scrawny shrimp compared to her male peers. Heck, I’m a scrawny shrimp compared to all of her female peers.

“I like what I see. For a non-bodybuilder, you’re very well defined. I especially like your biceps.”

She likes my biceps? I guess all those hours doing bicep curls are paying off! But really, her biceps are, like, 1000% better than mine.

“Thanks, Cindi. I like your entire body.”

“Would you like to see more?”

I nod. Did she really need to ask that question?

“Good. Have a seat.”

I sit down on the bed and watch Cindi perform a striptease routine of epic proportions. She steps back so there is at least six feet between us. I love the feel of her soft bed sheets against my naked body.

“Watch and enjoy.”

I sure will.

She starts by swaying her hips from side to side like a veteran salsa dancer. God! She has the body control of a ballerina! Is there anything this woman can’t do? Cindi lifts her shirt above her head and tosses it across the room. I look at her bare midriff and my eyes just about pop out of my head.

Her abs. Oh my God. Her abs.

HER ABS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If I had to choose one part of her body that is most impressive, it would have to be her abs. Holy mackerel! Lots of guys have a six-pack, but Cindi has at least an eight-pack! And the definition of her abdominal muscles is divine. They look like someone glued eight square rocks on her stomach.

Holy cow, her ABS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could lick them all day. And all night. And all week. And all month…

But let’s get back to the rest of her erotic dance.

She’s wearing a white cotton bra that barely fits around her massive chest. Her overall muscle definition is something to drool over! Every inch of her body is packed with muscle. She looks like she has muscle growing on top of other muscle. There are no soft spots on this amazing woman.

Cindi continues her striptease show by unzipping her pants and slowly easing her way out of them. Her legs are as thick as watermelons (and I’ll bet she could crush one between her legs as well!). She reaches down and takes off her socks as she steps out of her pants that have pooled around her feet. She is now only wearing a white G-string thong and a bra.

“Your body is beyond words.”

“Then don’t speak,” Cindi cleverly responds.

Then Cindi does something that I will never forget. She leisurely twirls around like an angel to show off her entire body. Her back muscles are almost enough to make me come right now. I also love her large, tight butt that puts every skinny woman to shame. She then approaches the bed with her back turned toward me.

“Unhook my bra, darling.”

“Will do.”

I fumble around with the bra while brushing my fingers against her hard back. If I were blind never in a million years would I guess this body belongs to a woman. For crying out loud, I can see just fine and I still can’t believe this body belongs to a woman!

Finally I unhook it and her bra drops to the floor unceremoniously. Cindi turns around and reveals the one singular flaw in her otherwise flawless body: her ridiculously small breasts. I’m guessing years of steroid use are probably responsible for shrinking her mammary glands. But I digress. Her flatness is not a strike against her. I’d still cup them and play with them. Her dark brown nipples are standing erect, ready for my mouth to cover them.

Cindi now only has one article of clothing left covering her divine figure. I cannot wait for this. She pulls back her wavy long black hair so they don’t cover her breasts.

“I see you looking at my breasts. Do you think they’re small?”

From the sound of her voice, I could tell she’s insecure about them.

“They are small, but I couldn’t care less.”

She smiles.

“Thank you, darling.”

My kind words are rewarded by a long, languorous kiss that lasts a lifetime. Cindi pulls back and prepares to strip off the final piece of clothing that remains clinging to her god-like body. I love her skin color. Her light brown complexion allows her muscles to fully entertain the eye. Her body is art.

Cindi slowly pulls her G-string thong down to her ankles. She is now completely naked. My heart is beating faster than an Olympic sprinter after winning the 1000 meter dash.

My eyes look up and down at her perfectly chiseled form. But when I peer down below her waist, I see something that makes my jaw drop.

She has a penis!

The Adventures of Ryan Takahashi: Chapter Four – Meeting Cindi

I’m racing up I-5 so fast I’m afraid I’m going to get pulled over by a cop. Right now I’m driving in the far left lane (the furthest left lane is for carpools) doing 75 mph. I should probably slow down. The police are usually out in droves on Saturday nights.

Grace Gonzalez. I had no idea she went by a different name. I’ve seen about a half dozen videos of her online. She only posts videos showing her working out and displaying feats of strength. Nothing pornographic in nature. A lot of FBBs also work in porn because bodybuilding isn’t a terribly lucrative enterprise. But trust me; there will always be horny guys like me who want to see their beautiful bodies in “action.”

It’s a little unusual for a woman to want to meet an unknown man alone at her house. Despite her freakish strength, this doesn’t seem very safe. I could be a serial killer. Or a rapist.

Hell, she could be the serial killer.

Oh shit.

Nah, that can’t be true. She’s legit. I’ve seen her work. She’s definitely an athlete, not a psychotic killer.

I exit I-5 and head west toward her home. Fifteen minutes later I’m in a quiet residential neighborhood filled with upper middle class homes. How much do bodybuilders get paid? I suppose that depends on how much money they win competing in contests.

Because it’s so dark I slowly peer to my left to try to catch her house number. I think I spot it and I pull over to the side of the road and park. My heart is thumping at least a thousand beats per minute. I feel sweat dripping down my back. I think my fingers are shaking. I’m surprised I made it here without crashing into a light post first.

I step out of my car and look closely at a modest two story off-white (at least I think the house is off-white. It’s difficult to say for sure in these conditions) house surrounded by a chain link fence, several green hedges and a tall oak tree in the front lawn. I don’t see any guard dogs anywhere. The house number matches the address she gave me. I take a deep breath and approach the front door.

As I step on her porch I see a handwritten note taped to the door. It reads:

Dear Ryan,

If you’re reading this message I can assume you found my house. Right now I’m sitting at a coffee shop just four blocks away from here. It’s called Anytime Espresso and it’s right down this street heading east. I look forward to seeing you there.

Kisses,

Cindi.

Of course! She would never meet me alone at her house. She would much rather meet me in a public setting. I follow her directions and briskly approach a small business area adjacent to the residential homes. Sure enough, there is an establishment called Anytime Espresso. I’m guessing this place gets its name because it’s open 24/7. But I could be wrong.

What I hope I’m not wrong about is Cindi being here. I didn’t come all this way just to be stood up. Why did she originally tell me to meet her at her home when all along she intended to meet me in a public place? Did she decide to meet me here at the last minute? Or is this going to lead to some scavenger hunt where I have to snoop all over Everett looking for this woman?

Before I can finish asking myself more useless and incoherent questions, I open the door and look around. My blood pressure must be through the roof.

I see a barista sitting at the counter looking at her phone. She peers up and sees me standing there like an idiot.

“Welcome. What can I get you?”

“Hi. I’m meeting someone. Did you—”

“She’s in the back. Over there.”

She points to a door that leads to a separate room. I casually nod to her and head toward my destiny. She continues to read whatever is on her phone.

Every step makes my knees shake. My breathing turns heavy. I can now feel the sweat dripping down my legs. If Cindi is actually in this building, I think I’m going to faint.

Standing right in front of a closed wooden door, I slowly extend my right hand and grab the doorknob. It feels cold, like the ominous opening to a haunted mansion. I twist the knob and push the door open. It creaks noisily. I take a deep breath, wipe a drip of sweat off my cheek and walk in.

I look around.

I see her.

She’s sitting at a small table in the far left corner sipping an espresso and reading a fitness magazine.

Cindi North.

The Woman, the Myth, the Legend.

She looks up and sees me standing there like a horny bastard.

“Hello there. Ryan, I presume?”

“Yes. That’s me. Cindi, right?”

“Yeah. Come on over. Have a seat. Do you want anything?”

Besides the obvious?

“No thank you. I’m not thirsty.”

I creep over to her table and give her a look over.

Oh. My. God.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Look at this woman’s body. I mean, look at her! (I realize you can’t see her, but let me tell you, she has a body that could stop the space-time continuum)

She’s an eye-popping specimen. Wearing tight blue jeans that show off her tree stump thighs and a short sleeved low-cut blouse that shamelessly exposes her massive biceps, Cindi is everything I dreamed she would be. Ripped, tanned, ridiculously muscular and wearing clothing that intentionally flaunts her gargantuan figure, Cindi is without a doubt the real deal. I feel my penis harden. I’m surprised it isn’t hard already.

She stands up and shakes my hand. Her grip is firm. I can feel her hard, callused fingers as they wrap around my soft fingers.

“I’m glad to finally meet you in person. I’ve been anxiously waiting for you to show up.”

“Likewise.”

That’s the best I can do? Great.

“Sit down. Let’s talk.”

Wow! She’s tall! I couldn’t tell from her photograph how tall she is, but she definitely looks down at me when we meet face-to-face. I’m a good 5’7”, so she must be at least 6’3” or maybe even 6’4”. She has light brown skin that looks like a very dark tan. And from the looks of it, her skin appears to be as smooth as leather. She speaks with a deep, gravelly voice that I guess is caused by taking steroids. I bet she sings baritone in the choir.

Standing next to her, I’m amazed at how massive she is. Her wide shoulders take up the whole room. Her forearms are as thick as my legs. She looks like she could carry a refrigerator on her back. And let’s not forget about her legs. Holy cow, I’ll bet she could crush a bowling ball between her magnificent thighs.

“Did you find my place alright?”

“Oh, yes. And I obviously found your note.”

“Yes you did. Good job. Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“I’m very sure. I just want to talk.”

“That’s fine with me. Tell me about yourself, Ryan. Or do you want me to go first?”

“Nah, I can go first. Unless you’re dying to share something with me.”

“Well, I sort of am. You probably want to know why I’m specifically seeking out an Asian guy.”

She’s right. I am dying to know that. But I can’t force her to reveal that yet. It’s too soon. I’ll let that pass and change the subject to something else.

“I do, but let’s not go there yet. I’ll start with myself. My name is Ryan Takahashi. I’m single, I work at a gym doing janitorial work and I desperately want a career change.”

Cindi laughs. Her laugh is deep, melodious and very sexy. I feel my stomach twitch.

“Why do you want a career change? Don’t like mopping up other people’s sweat?”

“That’s certainly part of it, yes. I think I could be doing something better with my life. I want to be a writer. But jobs for professional writers are scarce. Very scarce.”

“Hm. I’ll bet. Try being a professional bodybuilder. There’s very little money in that.”

Should I ask her how she makes a living? Of course not! Talking about money would be a horrible idea. I…uh…wow! I can’t stop staring at her amazing body! She’s so incredibly thick and defined. Every inch of her body is covered in muscle. She must have muscles layered on top of other muscles. God, I just want to lick her arms right now. I want to bury my face in her bulging biceps and-

“Are you going to ask me how I make a living?”

That woke me up from my mini-day dream.

“Oh? Uh, no. You don’t need to answer that. Money might not be the best thing to talk about at this moment.”

“Okay. Fair enough. Why are you into female bodybuilders?”

“Why do you think I’m into female bodybuilders?”

“Ooh, good answer! Let me guess…you’ve probably never met someone like me before, right?”

I nod my head silently.

“There has to be the element of curiosity. I’m guessing you’ve seen a lot of pictures of female bodybuilders, am I right?”

I nod my head silently again.

“Okay, okay. You probably get turned on by looking at women with muscles. Is it that simple?”

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!”

Cindi laughs again. She’s a very pleasant lady. For some reason I get this impression that all FBBs are serious man-hating meatheads who would rather crush your skull than tell a joke. I realize this is an atrocious social stereotype with absolutely no merit whatsoever, but that’s the impression I get. Cindi (or Grace, depending on which name she goes by) is a nice woman. Very nice. I could get used to this.

“Well, if you’re looking for a woman with muscles, look no further. Do you think you’ll ever meet somebody stronger than me?”

“I highly doubt it. You’re stunning, Cindi. Or should I call you Grace?”

A slight smile creeps across her face. There has got to be a story behind this.

“Grace Gonzalez is my professional name. My birth name is Cindi North. I was adopted when I was a baby and I’ve never met my biological parents. I know I’m part Puerto Rican, so I go by Grace Gonzalez to honor that part of my heritage.”

“Have you ever sought to locate your birth parents?”

Cindi’s smile disappears. Oh, shit. I may have asked too personal of a question!

“Yes. But they don’t want to know me. My birth mother was fourteen when she had me. My birth father was in this 40s. As you can expect the circumstances of my birth were not pretty.”

Her father was a pedophile? Was her mother raped? Dear God, this is getting heavy.

“If you don’t want to talk about this, you don’t have to. We can talk about something else if you’d like.”

“That’s okay. I’m not ashamed of my life. What I can’t control I shouldn’t worry about.”

“Hm. Have you ever been married?”

“Yes, twice. I divorced my second husband almost three years ago.”

“Are you looking to remarry?”

“No, I’m looking to have fun. That’s why I put that message on Craigslist.”

“All work and no play makes Cindi a dull girl?”

Cindi chuckles again. If she’s laughing, I must be doing something right. Right?

“Something like that. In addition to having two husbands, I have four kids.”

Holy shit! Four kids? She’s a MILF!!!

“Four kids? How old are they?”

“This might shock you, but I’ve had four kids from four different fathers. I’ll admit, that kind of makes me a whore. I had my first-born daughter when I was sixteen with a boy I knew in high school. My second child, another girl, came when I was eighteen. Her father was a neighborhood boy I grew up with. I had my third child, a son, with my first husband when I was twenty-five. We divorced and I had my fourth child, my third daughter, with my second husband. I was twenty-seven.”

Let me add these things in my head. According to her bio, she’s 48-years-old, which means her eldest daughter is 32, her second oldest is 30, her son is 23, and her youngest daughter is 21. Wow. I’m younger than at least two of her children. Damn!

“That’s quite a life. I have no kids. Nor have I ever been married.”

“Do you plan on getting married?”

“Sure, but not yet. I need to meet the right girl first.”

“Do you think that girl could be me?”

I stare at her in disbelief. I can’t think of a good come-back.

“I’m kidding, Ryan! I know you’re not looking for a serious relationship with me. You’re looking to fuck.”

That slightly startled me. Somehow, when she said the word “fuck,” it hit me on a gut level that I’m going to have sex with this woman in a short while. Wow! That realization is enough to give my already erected penis an additional jolt.

“That’s rather crass, but yes.”

“Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“Are you a virgin?”

I’m stunned again. Did she just ask me that? How do I answer? Do I tell her the truth, or do I make up some story about how I’ve had sex with so many girls I’ve lost track?

“I’m, uh, well, I…”

“You are. Just admit it. It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.”

She sounds very reassuring and nonjudgmental. Her eyes glow with love like a mother tending her young. How can I not answer her honestly?

“Yes, I am.”

“I knew it! Somehow, I knew it the moment you walked into the room. But that’s okay. We’ll change that. Follow me.”

And with that, Cindi gets up, pushes her chair in, drinks the last of her coffee, puts the magazine back on a bookshelf and walks toward the exit.

“You seem harmless enough, Ryan. Let’s go to my place.”

“Okay.”

That last line is delivered weakly and almost to myself. Is this real? Is she inviting me over to her place for sex? Well, that shouldn’t be too surprising, considering the fact she posted a sexual ad on Craigslist in the first place. But it’s getting real! Like, really real! I’m about to have sex with a strong, muscular female bodybuilder!

If this is all a dream, I’m going to murder someone.