Size Matters: After the Workout

Spend a little time casting your eye over the muscular goddess above. Notice, if you will, her veins, expanded to their limit, pulsating as they carry the blood her arm muscles crave. Observe the arm and shoulder muscles, engorged to their full glory, fully pumped. Now, take a minute to gaze upon her chest. See the nipples, bullet-like, straining the fabric of her T-shirt. Is her pumped body turning you on? Do you think she's turned on by being so pumped up?

It probably won't surprise you that my answer to both questions is a resounding 'Yes!' And in today's installment of Size Matters, FMS is going to give full rein to one of my biggest muscle fantasies. I like to call it...

After the Workout

You met her a few weeks ago, just about holding it together and keeping your eyes on her face while you spoke. A muscle goddess in your gym! And a muscle goddess who was happy to exchange numbers with you. You haven't missed a workout since. You can't get out of the office quick enough. Rush home, rush out again, and by the time you've changed and are leaving the locker room your mind is in a frenzy, your mouth is dry. Will she be there today?

Sometimes she isn't, but you're working out with a new sense of purpose now. You're also being super careful with your diet, and your intake of creatine is probably a little higher than it should be. You've even had your hair done. And it's all worth it when she is there. Now it's not always you who instigates the conversation. She's coming over to you as often as you go over to her. You can't sleep for thinking about going to the gym again, about seeing her again.

Then, one Friday afternoon at work you get a picture message. It's her, after her workout. There's an address and a simple instruction: COME NOW. You don't even bother making an excuse to your boss. You just go.

She buzzes you in and opens the door. The sight of her fully-pumped in her workout gear takes away what little breath you have left. Her body has you in a trance-like state and you automatically reach out to touch her, but she grabs your hand gently but firmly and leads you in, sitting you down then stepping back so you can admire her. Your eyes can't focus properly though, they dart from muscle to muscle, from bicep to thigh, from her abs to her shoulders.

I'm going to pose for you, she says. Then you'll have your chance to feel my pumped up muscles. It is the first time either of you has spoken since you arrived, and her words have magically broken your trance. Your breathing slows again and now you can take her all in at once. She is magnificent. Your female muscle fantasy made flesh. It is then you realise you have an erection so full it is aching. It is not an unpleasant feeling at all.

As she starts to pose you get a rush of adrenaline so big you think you might pass out. Your pulsating cock is being so greedy with your blood you are becoming light-headed. As if sensing this, she speaks again, once more breaking the spell. I can see you are enjoying your private posing show, she says with a smile and a wink. Why don't you get those trousers off before your cock rips them open? You blush and you obey.

When later you think back to what happened during the rest of your time with your muscle goddess, you recall not just visual images but full sensory experiences.

You kneel before her and put your arms around her mighty thighs. You feel the muscle pulse as if it were a living organism in its own right so that when you close your eyes and lay your head against it it's as if the beat you hear were the beat of the heart of that individual muscle.

You open your eyes and look up. You can smell her moist sex, and you reach up and run your fingers across her abdomen. You touch her smooth skin and feel the hard ridges of muscle beneath. You can hear her breathing becoming faster and deeper.

You worship and pleasure her. She is insatiable, and you are her tool. Her shuddering orgasms seem to get conducted out of her body and through yours, shaking you to the core as you explore her hard, vascular body.

The first night passes in wave after wave of ecstasy, your body bucking uncontrollably as she forces load after load out of your throbbing cock. Skin, oil, muscle, sweat combine and you can barely focus anymore, just smell, touch and taste.

You finally lose consciousness and drift into a long deep sleep. When you awake she is there, waiting. And you simply begin again. Time, and the outside world and your everyday life mean nothing.

All there is is her. Nothing else exists. You explore every inch of her. She poses in the mirror, admiring herself and watching you worship her at the same time. Every vein, every striation. You tell yourself to remember every detail. You never want to forget. You trace the outlines of her muscles with your fingers and your tongue. When you press them there is no give whatsoever. They are stone, granite.

When finally she tells you to go, there is no sense of disappointment. She has milked you dry. Blissfully you make your way home, floating through the streets.

And you dream of her that night, and for many many nights after. You dream of her body, of her muscles and her scent, of her enlarged clitoris and how it felt in your mouth, and of the strength of her grip around your erection.

You find when you awake that it is Monday. Like a robot, you begin your routine. On your way to work the women you see barely register, and you realise you have been changed forever. You can't pretend anymore. You have known a goddess and now mortal women will never satisfy you. But this insight does not down-hearten you though. It's better to have loved a muscle women once than to never have loved a muscle woman at all.


Oooof! I need a lie-down after that. More Size Matters tomorrow!