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.”

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Educating Jonathan – Part One

This is the figure I imagined Dr. Samantha would possess.

This is the figure I imagined Dr. Samantha would possess.

“Is it true Asian men have small penises?” she asks.

Jonathan stops his slow, languorous kisses across her neck as he freezes, utterly shocked to hear such a question.

“Um, I have no idea if we do or not. I don’t think any scientific studies have been done on the matter.” He continues to kiss her, moving up to her jawline, tasting her sweet skin. Samantha softly moans as his tongue explores her slender cheek bones.

“I lost my virginity to an Asian boy. He was Vietnamese. We were both fifteen. I haven’t spoken to him in almost twenty years,” she says, cupping his bottom with her hands. Jonathan and Samantha were now down to their underwear, dainty pieces of fabric separating them from total nakedness.

“How was he? In bed, that is…” he asks. He isn’t just asking to make casual conversation. Jonathan sincerely wants to know. How would he compare to a pubescent Vietnamese boy?

Samantha takes a deep breath and wraps her arms around Jonathan’s waist. She ponders this question for a moment, her right eyebrow raised slightly. Deep in thought.

“I don’t remember. We were both very young. I didn’t come, but that wasn’t because of him. The whole time I was scared we’d be caught by my parents. We did it on their bed. They could have come home at any moment. We were both drunk.” Samantha felt a chill roll down her back as she reflects upon that particular night. They were so close to being caught. But alas, they had plenty of time to finish the deed before Mom and Dad came home from the movie theater.

Jonathan wonders where this conversation is going. Are they going to make love or not? He isn’t the impatient type of guy, but after hours of foreplay (starting with him buying her dinner at an overpriced seafood restaurant) he was more than ready to ravish her on his bed. Mostly naked and furiously aroused, he was as good as ready. He was pretty sure she was too.

The rain fell peacefully on the bedroom’s sky window. Jonathan’s top floor apartment unit stood seventeen floors high, overlooking the entire metropolitan skyline. It was approaching midnight, but neither of them felt sleepy. He wants to make love to her right now. She, on the other hand, is preoccupied with discussing the size of Asian men’s penises.

This is how things are going so far.

“Overall, was it a positive experience for the both of you?” he asks. Maybe if he kept the discussion going this would lead to better sex than if he just remained silent. Women love men who can communicate, right?

There's something peacefully calming about the rain.

There’s something peacefully calming about the rain.

“Yes, it was. I didn’t feel any pain. He came inside me. I didn’t come, but I was at an age when I hadn’t ever come before. I learned how to shortly after.” Her soft skin felt divine against his body. She smelled like a fresh spring morning, full of hope and renewal. Jonathan desperately wants to taste her femininity, to take in every inch of her magnificent body and destroy any notion that Asian men can’t be good lovers. He wants to bring her to as many earth-shattering climaxes as possible and leave her begging for more until the sun rose the next morning.

“How…big was he?” Jonathan courageously asks.

“I was young, so I didn’t think about that. We did it in the dark, so I couldn’t get a good look at him. He felt fine inside me, I think. But no one can fill me the way my husband can.” Jonathan almost cringes at the thought of Samantha being a married woman. He hates being the “other man,” but his uncontrollable lust for her has clouded his judgment and rendered any sense of moral decency useless.

“What would your husband think if he knew what we were doing?” he quietly whispers in her ear.

“He’d be very angry. He wouldn’t resort to violence, but he’d be very angry.” Samantha doesn’t have a single shred of guilt inside her. The moment she peeked into their bedroom one early afternoon and saw her husband in bed with a female coworker, she knew she had to exact revenge on him without his knowledge. He never found out that she found out…and that’s the way Samantha wants it to be.

Jonathan and Samantha met under very unlikely circumstances. He’s a grad student at the University working on his Masters in physics. She’s a college professor at the same University and earned her doctorate in Gender, Race and Class Studies. He’s never taken a course from her, but her reputation as an accomplished and intelligent woman with gorgeous good looks made her a legend on campus. She’s never slept with any of her students, as she’s remained faithful to her husband (a neurosurgeon and widely respected man in his community) throughout their entire marriage until this fateful night.

He’s Asian, 25-years-old and unmarried. She’s a natural blonde, white, 52-years-old and has been married for 27 years. She’s been with her husband longer than Jonathan’s been alive. This fact does not escape either of them.

Jonathan reaches down and feels between her legs. Her panties are soaking wet, moisture seeping through the bright red fabric. She lets out another moan as his fingers explore her swollen womanhood.

Olympic track athlete Funmi Jimoh, born in Seattle, WA! She's the inspiration for "Kristina," the girl Jonathan lost his virginity to years ago.

Olympic track athlete Funmi Jimoh, born in Seattle, WA! She’s the inspiration for “Kristina,” the girl Jonathan lost his virginity to years ago.

“I want to make love to you. Badly, Samantha,” Jonathan pleads with her. His erection is straining against his underwear, equally anticipating release and satisfaction. She reaches down and pinches the sides of his underwear, slowly dragging it down his legs.

“Please. Call me Sammy. That’s what my students call me,” Samantha quips, mesmerized by the unveiling of Jonathan’s manhood.

“Dr. Sammy” is what she’s specifically known by around campus. The moment Jonathan first saw her he instantly fell in love. Her beauty, intelligence, passion and dedication to her craft of teaching struck him immediately – like a thousand bolts of lightning hitting him all at once.

When she pulled off his underwear, Jonathan was completely naked. His erected manhood stood between him and her. A sudden wave of insecurity rushed over him. She says her husband can fill her like no one else can. How would he compare? What is she thinking right now?

Samantha looks down at his penis and stares at it, studying its shape and size. Before marrying her husband, Samantha had a very active sex life and has seen her share of male anatomy through the years. She didn’t quite know what to think about his endowment yet. It wasn’t particularly small, but it wasn’t big either. It was light brown, curved slightly and circumcised. His black pubic hair was short and lightly trimmed, dancing around his manhood without being distracting.

“How big is it?” she asks, almost in a trance-like state. Jonathan has no idea how to respond.

“Uh, I don’t know. What do you mean by that?”

“How long is it? Have you ever measured it before?”

“No, I have not. Do you want to?”

Her eyes light up. Of course she wants to! Samantha doesn’t know where her obsession with penis size came from, but throughout her adult life (starting in high school) she’s been mesmerized by men’s penises – their function, their size, their appearance, their unique smell and their role in social relationships. She once wrote an entire book dedicated to studying penises. Every possible angle was explored in this groundbreaking text. She even won an award for it.

“Yes, I want to. Do you have a ruler or measuring tape?” Her eyes still have not left his manhood. Jonathan has never taken much thought about the size of his penis. He’s always assumed he was average. None of the women he’s ever been with (both Asian and non-Asian) have ever complained. But then again, not complaining isn’t the same as being satisfied. He lost his virginity to a black girl during his freshman year in college. Her name was Kristina. She lived in the same dormitory building and was a member of the track team. She had an incredibly muscular body that was as fit and athletic as he’d ever witnessed in his life. He’ll never forget that experience.

“I have a roll of measuring tape in my desk drawer.” Jonathan gets up off the bed and almost trips on the pile of clothes recklessly sprawled out across the floor. His erection sways from side to side as he walks across the room. Samantha notices this and begins to touch herself in response. She slides her right hand beneath her panties and places two fingers across her swollen clitoris, stroking herself as she closes her eyes and imagines Jonathan’s Asian penis filling every inch of her. She unclasps her bra and drops it on the floor.

Have you ever measured the length of your manhood?

Have you ever measured the length of your manhood?

Meanwhile, Jonathan opens his desk drawer and takes out a small roll of measuring tape. He can’t remember the last time he used this. High school shop class, perhaps? That must be it.

He turns around and sees Samantha pleasuring herself. Her right hand caresses the sensitive nub between her legs while her left hand explores her stomach, breasts and neck. Jonathan watches, captivated by this little “show.” Jonathan has seen lots of videos of women masturbating in front of a camera, but nothing compares to watching the real thing unfold right before his very eyes.

She has no idea what’s come over her. She’s not the type of woman who impulsively touches herself when a sudden rush of arousal hits her. But here she is, rubbing herself like a sex-starved housewife in front of a total stranger she’s only met hours ago. Samantha feels a hot rush of heat pulsate from between her legs as her fingers relentlessly caress her most sensitive area. She knows she’s close. And she’s further turned on knowing he’s watching her.

Jonathan can’t breathe. Samantha loses her breath – caught up in the moment, reveling in the sensations rising up from her depraved body.

Samantha looks up to the Heavens as she approaches her climax. Her fingers continue to rub her clit as her breathing increases with forceful panic. Seeing Jonathan’s hard manhood sway back and forth reminded her of her husband twenty years ago, when they were both young and full of uninhibited sexual ambitions.

Finally, Samantha’s orgasm reaches its peak and she climaxes. A controlled scream fills the air as her orgasm engulfs her entire body from head to toe. The rhythmic contractions of her vaginal muscles steal her breath, making her fall backwards on the bed. Her fingers linger on her clit until her spasms subside. Eventually her breathing returns to normal and she opens her eyes, thanking every deity in existence for this amazing experience. She brings her fingers to her mouth and tastes her feminine juices, enjoying the way her taste buds respond to her own essence.

Silence. Neither of them move for what seems like an eternity. Jonathan decides to break the deafening stillness.

“That was amazing. It looks like you don’t even need me.” Jonathan winks at her, a wicked smile streaking across his face.

Samantha laughs heartily. She never expected this impromptu masturbation session. But there was something in the way that Jonathan’s penis moved as he walked that erupted a sudden burst of lust inside her. She needed release at that moment. And the only one who could give her that immediate release was herself.

More erotic photography. A woman pleasuring herself. Who can better please a woman than herself?

More erotic photography. A woman pleasuring herself. Who can better please a woman than herself?

“Come here. I want to do something with you.” Samantha pats the bed next to her as she sits back up. By now Jonathan can clearly see her panties are soaking wet, a sign of her arousal that sparks a similar eruption of lust inside him. He hands her the measuring tape and sits down next to her.

“Let’s see how big you are. If you don’t mind.” She stretches the tape out. It’s 72 inches long, plenty of length for whatever scientific experiment she wants to conduct.

“No, I don’t mind. I’m never one to get in the way of scientific research.” Jonathan inhales a deep breath as Samantha grabs the base of his penis and lightly strokes up and down. He feels sudden waves of pleasure cascading through his body. If she wasn’t careful, he might come right there.

“Good. Let’s see where you are…” she trails off, pushing her thumb against the tip of his penis to make sure it stands straight. She then places the end of the measuring tape at the base of his pubic hair and rolls the tape up to the top. He looks down to see how he stacks up.

“About five and a half inches long,” Samantha says unemotionally, as if she were relaying astronomy coordinates to a bored lab assistant.

“Whew,” Jonathan says, breathing a sigh of relief. Is that standard? All the unscientific research he’s ever read says the average penis size, when fully engorged, is between five and six inches. At five and a half, he’s right in the middle. Good! He’s not small. But he’s also not large. He’s…average.

He can live with “average.”

Samantha then wraps the measuring tape around the base of his penis to calculate the circumference. She brushes some of his pubic hair aside to get a more accurate reading.

“Just shy of four and three-quarters inches,” she says, equally without emotion or judgment.

“Dr. Sammy” winds the measuring tape and places it on top of the bedside table. She turns to face Jonathan and plants a light kiss on his right cheek. Electricity runs down his spine as her soft, luscious lips linger on the side of his face.

“Let’s make love,” he suggests, caressing her cheek and lightly pinching her pink nipple with his fingertips.

She takes the hint and slips off her soaked panties down her beautiful legs. Samantha kicks them away to the side, uncaring where they land. She is now completely nude.

“Yes.” She kisses him deeply, refusing to let this prefect moment go to waste.

The Erotic Dreams of Max Shimura: Episode Two – Black Beauty

When you think of Black Beauty, think about Desiree Ellis.

When you think of Black Beauty, think about Desiree Ellis.

Max’s next dream took him to a familiar place: his own life.

Rainfall. Dusk. The time is 5:37 p.m. It is Friday, a day Max always cherishes.

After a rough week at work, Max knew he had to blow off some steam at the gym. TGIF, right? Max frequently worked out at the gym 3 to 4 days per week, doing a variety of exercises ranging from weight lifting to yoga to Pilates to swimming. Today he just needed to lift till his muscles gave out. It was one of those days.

6:40 p.m.

Max just completes nearly an hour and a half of blasting his chest and back muscles. Drenched in sweat, breathing hard as if he’d just run a marathon; he decides it’s time to stretch and end his workout with light cardio. As he was heading to the treadmill area, a heart-stopping sight caught him dead in his tracks.

Walking out of a now completed Zumba class was a striking black woman. Tall (perhaps 6’1”, maybe taller), muscular, athletic and as gorgeous as a supermodel, this woman exudes sexual power out of every pore of her impeccable body. Max is certain he’d never seen her here before, but at this moment, encountering this Beautiful Goddess destroyed any certainty he had of anything.

Imagine seeing a lady like Tatianna Butler in your gym. Talk about distracting.

Imagine seeing a lady like Tatianna Butler in your gym. Talk about distracting.

Wearing tight pink workout shorts and a revealing pink sports bra to match, this fetching woman is a perfect specimen of female beauty. She is the quintessential Black Beauty, the Immortal African Queen. Her dark black skin looks silky smooth and as soft as a blanket. Her hard muscles are sharp and well-defined. She is as strong as an ox. Every inch of her is perfect.

And Max was determined to find out more about her.

Black Beauty proceeds to walk toward the weight room. Wait, really? She’s not going back to the locker room? She actually plans to lift with the rest of the guys?

Hell yes, she is!

Black Beauty demonstrates that she isn’t just strong “for a woman;” she shows everyone she’s STRONG, plain and simple. Deadlifts. Squats. Lunges. Leg presses. Massive weight. Heavy reps. Sweat dripping off her delectable body. Today is definitely her leg day.

All the guys stop and stare at her. But does she get offended with this new-found attention? Nope. She loves the attention. She adores being looked at. She treasures every guy who can’t help but stare at her glorious figure. She wants this. She desires this.

She deserves this.

Every guy wants her. But Max knows he would be the one who would end up with her before the night is out. He doesn’t know how. He just knows this is how things will happen.

So…time to make a move!

It started with casual flirting. Max passes by Black Beauty and lets out a hushed wolf whistle. Black Beauty smiles back and returns the whistle as Max pumps out ten reps of heavy military shoulder press. Today isn’t a shoulders day, but any excuse to get close to her makes that fact irrelevant.

Then he strikes up a casual conversation with her. He asks her why he’s never seen her here before. She answers that she just moved into town. Their conversation goes deeper. They learn things about each other; where they grew up, what schools they attended, where they live, what they do for a living (as it turns out, she’s an amateur bodybuilder and a professional erotic model) and what hobbies they share. They learn a lot in a brief amount of time.

Her name is Afrika. See her power. See her strength. Admire her.

Her name is Afrika. See her power. See her strength. Admire her.

Minutes pass. Then an hour. Then an hour and a half. Forget working out. Max and Black Beauty aren’t just flirting – they’re connecting at a deep level. All the men in the weight room are jealous of Max. Many leave after conceding that Black Beauty is Max’s for the taking. They know what will happen between these two. So why bother sticking around and hoping they’ll get their shot?

For Max and Black Beauty, this is no longer casual flirting. This is foreplay. This is a mating dance; albeit one that involves dumbbells, barbells and lots of 45-pound plates of weight. Consummating this dance isn’t a possibility; it’s a guarantee.

Eventually Max and Black Beauty ease off their conversation and resume their workouts. Having already completed his initial workout, Max is now doing overtime. His muscles may collapse on him. But he doesn’t care one bit. This opportunity to get to know Black Beauty is one that he cannot pass up.

Max says he’s leaving and is heading home. Black Beauty, clearly enamored by him, offers to exchange phone numbers. They do. Max texts to Black Beauty his name and phone number. She smiles and resumes her grueling workout. Max leaves the weight room as if he’d just conquered the world.

After taking a quick shower and brushing his teeth, Max buys a protein shake at the juice bar. He looks around for Black Beauty. She’s still at the weight room, squatting what looks to be 315 pounds. Holy smokes. Look at that power. Look at her impeccable form. Look at her massive thighs, growing stronger and stronger with every punishing repetition. The way she strenuously pushes her leg muscles beyond what they can handle turns Max on in ways he’s never been turned on before.

Max senses his manhood waking up. Who cares if anyone notices?

An hour later, Max is at home watching a rerun of some football game he couldn’t care less about. Out of the blue, his phone buzzes. He checks it out and sees this simple message:

I wanna fuck you. So fucking bad. My place or yours?

Do you really have to guess who this is? Didn’t think so.

Ultimately, Max decides to come over to her house. Black Beauty texts him her address and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling up his car onto her driveway. He kills the engine. She lives in a quaint stone house in a quiet residential neighborhood a few miles away from his apartment. Though he wouldn’t consider her a next-door-neighbor, he’d drive any distance to be with this Black Muscle Goddess.

Zoe Saldana's beauty is enough to make my heart stop.

Zoe Saldana’s beauty is enough to make my heart stop.

He rings her doorbell. He waits. Seconds pass which seem like days. Eventually, the door opens. Black Beauty is standing before him.

Holy shit.

Dressed in nothing but a lily white negligee, silky purple lingerie and bright red stiletto heels, Black Beauty was a divine object of flawless beauty. Her revealing outfit shows off every bulging muscle on her unbelievable body. Her pumped legs, which Max was surprised was still able to stand considering the intensity of her earlier workout, nearly gave him a heart attack. Her wide, massive thighs squeeze together, unable to separate apart on their own. This thickness sends a chill down Max’s spine.

She invites him in. He enters her home. It is artistically decorated – littered with Greek nude statues, post-modern erotic paintings, photographs of muscular men and women in a variety of sensual poses and bookshelves full of academic textbooks.

She explains that she’s a student of art history, erotic art and human sexuality. Max isn’t surprised one bit. Their conversation at the gym was much deeper than any normal weight room banter. Black Beauty isn’t just a strong, beautiful woman. She’s also deeply passionate, intelligent and artistically-minded.

Not a bad combination.

Black Beauty offers him something to drink. Max takes the offer. They enter her dining room and sip fine wine by romantic candlelight for the next two hours. Their topics of conversation run the gamut; politics, art, sex, race, society, bodybuilding, culture, sports, history, family and culinary experiences. Their mutual fondness grows exponentially with each passing moment. Both Max and Black Beauty sense this isn’t going to be just a quick affair. Both know this has potential to be something more…profound.

It is nearing midnight. One empty bottle of wine later, Max and Black Beauty are both fairly loosened up. Not drunk. No, both are very clear-minded. Probably because they only have one thing on their mind:

Making love.

Yes, not fucking. Not screwing. Not banging one another. No…making love. Max and Black Beauty are about to make love as if they’d known each other for decades. This isn’t purely physical. This is something else entirely. This is real. Very real. Very tangible.

All hail Iris Kyle, a legend in her own right.

All hail Iris Kyle, a legend in her own right.

Finally, after hours of keeping a respectable physical distance, Black Beauty leans in and kisses Max passionately. She tastes him, possessing him with her mouth. Her tongue explores him, marking its territory. Max couldn’t breathe. But he didn’t mind. He’s been waiting for this moment a long time.

Max and Black Beauty finish their kiss and lock eyes. It’s time to start this dance. This erotic dance that will, inevitably, last all night and into the early morning. Hell, it’ll probably last into all day tomorrow as well. But tomorrow can wait. All that matters is the here and now.

Black Beauty stands up from the dining room table and walks over to him. Max loves the sight of her tight butt jiggling with every step. They share a second kiss, this time less fervent than the last, but nevertheless equally endearing. Max gets up and embraces her securely, feeling every mound of muscle on her taut back. She squeezes back and nearly knocks the wind out of him. Wow! She’s powerful! Her enormous arms wrap around his torso with a force that could sever him in half.

She releases. He struggles to catch his breath. Before he makes an attempt to, she grabs his hand and leads him into the living room.

All the lights are out. A fire is burning in the fireplace, giving off a dreamy glowing aura. A large fleece blanket and two pillows are neatly laid on the floor. She’s planned this out, meticulous detail by meticulous detail. God, what a woman!

Black Beauty stops, turns around and lifts Max’s shirt over his head. She kneels down and unbuckles his belt. Max reaches down and rubs her strong, broad shoulders. Black Beauty kisses his abdominal muscles, savoring every inch. Max plans to savor every inch of her, too.

Victoria Dominguez on a beach. Heaven on Earth, no?

Victoria Dominguez on a beach. Heaven on Earth, no?

She finally strips him and instructs him to sit down on the blanket. Max obliges. Black Beauty takes a few steps back and starts an erotic dance that captivates him. His manhood stands at attention. She removes her negligee and drops it to the floor. It pools around her ankles. She slowly removes her bra tosses it recklessly across the room. It disappears into the darkness.

Her large, plump breasts beckon him, but she pulls away to tease him. She kicks off her stilettos and places them behind her. All that’s left are her panties.

After another languorous erotic dance, inspired by ballet and rhythm stepping, Black Beauty at last removes the one last piece of clothing from her magnificent body. She steps back and poses, proudly demonstrating her muscularity. The light from the fire accentuates every fine curve, every muscle, every inch of her hard work at the gym.

Black Beauty bends over and kisses Max again. She lightly strokes his penis in an effort to arouse him. But the truth is he’s been aroused for hours now. But he appreciates the kind gesture.

She rolls on top of him and kisses his neck, chest and shoulders. Max returns the favor and strokes her long silky black hair. Black Beauty pulls him up and they share a long, wet kiss. Max reaches down and inserts a finger inside her vagina. She lets out a moan, expressing her approval. She’s completely wet, moist and ready for him. He knows what comes next.

Coming apart from their kiss, Black Beauty lies down on her back and spreads her thick legs in a spreadeagle formation. Max caresses her calves and takes his time to admire them. But she is impatient. She wants him to enter her. She wants him to please her.

Max, not wanting to disappoint, positions his penis at the entrance of her vagina and rubs the tip against her swollen clitoris. Black Beauty moans again loudly, not holding back. Now is not the time to hold back anything.

Halle Berry is one of my favorites from my youth. God, what a beauty!

Halle Berry is one of my favorites from my youth. God, what a beauty!

In one single movement, Max pushes himself into her until he can’t possibly get any deeper. Jolts of electricity scream through their bodies. Max bends over and kisses Black Beauty ardently, savoring her with an earnest that he’s never experienced before. She wraps her long strong legs around him and thrusts herself into him, forcing both lovers to moan out loud in unapologetic pleasure.

Max whispers something into Black Beauty’s ear. Only they know what is said, no one else. As he drives himself deeper and deeper into her, he forgets where he is for a moment. Her house? Paradise? It makes no difference.

Black Beauty clutches her lover’s body tightly against her ample chest, her bulky muscles temporarily knocking the wind out of him. They kiss with a force that neither could replicate with another person again. Wet, sloppy and untamed, these lovers are holding nothing back. They don’t have time to waste. It’s only this moment, this place and their animalistic lust for each other that matter. Why worry about tomorrow?

The lovers experience the initial sensations of orgasm. But this lovemaking session isn’t about the orgasm. No. It’s about one thing only: Love.

She rolls over and takes over on top. He enthusiastically indulges in her whim. Riding him like a cowgirl riding her prized stallion, she locks her fingers around his and playfully dances up and down his manhood. He whimpers, knowing this is a moment he will never forget. She falls on top of him, spreads her legs wide and prepares for one final thrust that will send both lovers over the edge.

She whispers something into his ear. Like before, no one in the world will ever know what she tells him.

Black Beauty lifts her perfectly rounded butt in the air, takes a deep breath, kisses Max one last time and gives him one last final thrust. Their lips never come apart.

Max and Black Beauty come at the same time. Their lips finally separate. They let out a wild scream which will surely shake the Earth’s foundation.

Her vaginal muscles contract uncontrollably. His penis pulses with authority, emptying himself into her. He wants to give her all he’s got. He wants this moment to be special.

She collapses on top of him. They breathe heavily. Sweat drips off their bodies. Their hearts pound together to the same beat. The shadows created by the fire’s light produce a picturesque image of erotic perfection. Two people. One body. Pure love.

They continue to whisper sweet words into each other’s ears. The poetry shared between them could fill a thousand volumes of classical literature.

Outside, the rain begins to fall. It gets louder and louder with each passing moment. There is now a peace between the two lovers. The gentle sounds of water cascading off the roof add to the sexual ambiance.

Finally, she lifts herself off of him. His penis has softened by now. She toys with it playfully, smiling down at him. He returns the favor and lightly strokes her beautiful labia. He sits up and kisses her breasts, lapping her tongue across her sensitive nipples. She closes her eyes, looks up to the Heavens and sighs with satisfaction. This moment cannot be any more perfect, she tells herself.

Romantic fireplace and wine.

Romantic fireplace and wine.

The night is still young. The fire’s celestial glow endures. The fire burning within them is far from being satiated. Their shared love will never die.

The two lovers cuddle underneath the blanket and share stories about their childhoods. There’s something poignant about the simplicity of life and the desire to share it that comes out after the act of lovemaking. They talk for what seems like an eternity. The rain continues to pour. Nurturing the earth, the light tapping of water against the windows makes both Black Beauty and Max a little nostalgic for the mutual pleasure they experienced moments before.

What should they do? How can they make this flawless night last forever?

Max has an idea.

He pulls back the blanket, kisses her again, hugs her firmly and tells her what’s on his mind. She nods.

She embraces him back, and they make love again.

And again…and again…and again…and into eternity.

Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Part Four)

The one and only Lynn McCrossin.

The one and only Lynn McCrossin.

GFBB reached for a bottle of baby oil on a bedside table and dabbed a small amount on the palm of her hand. Lubricating her fingers, I eagerly anticipated the finale to this incredible muscle worship appointment.

Take a deep breath, I tell myself. This is going to be your first time receiving a sexual service from a woman. And not just any woman, but an absolutely gorgeous female bodybuilder whose beauty, sexiness and smarts turn me on like nothing else.

For those of you who don’t know, my sexual history isn’t terribly detailed. I’m a pretty quiet and meek kind of guy. While I don’t consider myself shy around women, connecting with people doesn’t come easy to me. This goes for people in general, but attractive ladies in particular. Am I trying to fix this? Of course I am. But easier said than done, n’est-ce pas?

Still, my manhood isn’t erect yet. Despite the obvious sexual circumstances – me alone with a gorgeous naked woman in a hotel room – I’m feeling more nervous than aroused. This worried me a bit. What if I can’t produce an erection? What if, despite my years and years of experience masturbating and producing erections at will, I fail at the worst possible moment? Let’s face it. Opportunities like this don’t come around too often!

This causes a flood of insecurities to come crashing down upon me. Strangely enough, GFBB must have noticed my awkwardness because she flashed me a compassionate smile after putting the bottle of baby oil back on the table. Did she see fear in my eyes? Did I give off an anxiety-ridden vibe that’s impossible not to notice?

“Can I kiss you?” I ask GFBB. It was an honest question.

“Yes, you can kiss me.”

The absolutely gorgeous Angela Rayburn.

The absolutely gorgeous Angela Rayburn.

I lean over and kiss her on the lips. Her lips are sweet, warm and loving. I’m not sure if she’s usually cool with kissing her clients, but I appreciate her willingness to let me indulge a bit. Kissing random strangers is an easy way to get sick so I would not have been surprised if she said “no.” But…she didn’t say no. She said yes!

And how sweet did she taste. Yummy!

We lay on our sides – me on the right side of the bed, GFBB on the left – and came closer together. The scene resembled a couple engaging in foreplay before making love. While that’s not what was going on, in my imagination I can think whatever I want, right?

I stared into her eyes. She slowly reached down and began to stroke my penis. Still soft and small, I tried to make a joke to ease my tension.

“You’d be surprised. It’s not as easy to produce an erection as you’d think.”

She nodded in agreement. She continued to stroke, her lubricated fingers massaging my manhood in an up and down motion. I felt a slight tingle of sensation rising up from my pelvis.

“Can I ask you something?” I innocently asked.

“Go ahead.”

“Have you heard the stereotype about Asian men and their penises?”

She knew where I was going with this.

“You mean…”

“The stereotype that Asian guys are small down there?”

“Honey, here’s what I have to say about that. When you’re in a relationship with a woman, she won’t care. There’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t worry about a thing.”

I sure hope she’s right. But come to think of it, this is neither the time nor the place for me to air out my insecurities. GFBB is a female bodybuilder, not a therapist!

Toni West is so strong, muscular, beautiful and feminine. A perfect combination.

Toni West is so strong, muscular, beautiful and feminine. A perfect combination.

As her fingers resumed their caressing touch, getting that confession off my chest must have done wonders because almost immediately my penis becomes fully erect. Was I having performance anxiety? Probably not, but I felt the need to keep a conversation going in order to calm me down.

My manhood fully engorged, the initial tingling of orgasm began. Her fingers wrapped around my penis with authority, not rushing to bring me to climax but urgent enough to give me a remarkably pleasurable experience. I leaned over and kissed her on the lips, cheek and neck. She may have kissed me back, but I was on a different planet by now. In this moment, I felt like we were Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden – two perfect, innocent creations experiencing sexual pleasure for the first time.

Of course, I knew GFBB was not new to performing sex acts. As a mother and middle aged woman, she’s had her fair share of erotic life experiences. But not me. I was the newbie, a stranger to a strange game. I tried to focus on the moment and take it all in.

No one can match Gina Davis.

No one can match Gina Davis.

As I kissed her cheek, lingering on tasting her essence and smelling her feminine fragrance, I knew I was about to come. Her fingers were stroking me more earnestly. Electricity was surging through every nerve ending of my body. My erection became harder, anticipating a satisfying climax. The coolness of the baby oil rubbing against my sensitive skin, satiating my every desire, added to the eroticism.

I tried to whisper something in her ear, but could not bring myself to saying anything. Would it be weird to confess my love for a woman I’ve only known for a little more than an hour? Would she think I’m peculiar for doing so? Or would she understand this is purely something done in the heat of the moment, an irrational act committed by an otherwise rational being?

Before I could whisper anything, I felt a surge of pleasure rising and bursting forth out of my manhood. I knew this was it. The time is now.

I came hard, spurting all over my belly and chest. Her fingers stopped massaging me and she watched as I covered myself with my own seed. I let out a deep sigh. GFBB gave me pleasure I will always remember. For all the time we spent talking philosophy and politics, this moment was the culmination of our shared time together. Frozen in time, perhaps? I have no doubt about it.

A legend in her own right, Lenda Murray.

A legend in her own right, Lenda Murray.

Eventually, my mind came back down to Earth and I left whatever dreamy metaphysical state it was previously in. GFBB got up from the bed and went to the bathroom to fetch a towel.

“You came quite a bit,” she remarked, evidently impressed with how much semen I released. I looked down at myself and was equally impressed. Quite a lot of warm white liquid lying across my torso!

She returned with a towel and I wiped myself off. She offered me the chance to take a shower. I obliged and hopped into the shower to quickly rinse off before leaving. My mind raced at a million miles per minute during that short shower, still basking in the glory of receiving a hand job from a very sexy, intelligent and strong woman.

I'm not too familiar with Nena Cortes, but I'd sure like to learn more about her!

I’m not too familiar with Nena Cortes, but I’d sure like to learn more about her!

After I dried myself off and dressed, I came back into the room and saw GFBB had put back on her tight blue dress. She was watching TV. Some dreadful highway accident was being covered in the news. I gathered my things and decided it was time to give her the bottle of wine.

I went over to my backpack and took it out.

“I brought a gift for you.”

I hand it to her and she smiles widely.

“Why, thank you! That is very kind. Thanks!”

“This is my way of saying thank you. I had a lovely time.”

We briefly chatted about whatever was happening on the television. Eventually I put on my shoes and socks with my backpack slung over my shoulder. Whew. I knew this was it. It was time to say good bye for good. God knows if I’ll ever have the chance to see her again. GFBB lives in Texas and she tells me this will be her last year doing “appointments.” She’s ready to settle down and quit traveling the world to see guys like me. Hey, that’s her prerogative. She has every right to decide for herself when it’s time to hang up the cleats.

I guess my earlier analogy about meeting a fading sports superstar had some truth to it. GFBB was, in a way, “retiring.” Not from bodybuilding necessarily, but from bringing her show on the road and offering these unique services to her fans. If she indeed will call it a career, then I jumped on this opportunity at the right time. That’s fantastic luck on my part!

We stand in front of each other. I thanked her again for the lovely session. It must have been well past one hour since I first came into this room. At least 75 minutes, I’d estimate.

“One more kiss for the road?”

She nods and we share one last kiss. It was sweeter than any other kiss I’ve ever received. We hugged, said our “goodbyes” and I opened the door to leave.

“Have a good night!” she tells me as I walk out into the dimly lit hallway.

“Good night. Bye, bye!”

I close the door behind me and quickly shuffle toward the main lobby. I kept my head down, scurrying in the direction of the exit so none of the hotel staff would have time to think about who I am and what business I had being here. But, to be honest, what other people were thinking had no bearing on my own thoughts. I could only think about myself and GFBB.

The Italian Muscle Goddess Mavi Gioia.

The Italian Muscle Goddess Mavi Gioia.

Yikes. Wow. What did I just experience?

Everything was so surreal. Did that really happen? The past 75 minutes were all a blur. I felt like I had an out-of-body experience that seemed real but wasn’t. Like “Inception,” perhaps my appointment with GFBB was nothing more than a fabricated dream that I convinced myself was real.

As I left the hotel and headed back to my car, the rational side of me knew this wouldn’t change anything about my life. I’m in no way shape or form a “new” person for having gone through this spectacular experience. I’m the same person right now as I was minutes before walking into that hotel lobby.

But, there was a part of me that knew that something, however miniscule and incremental, had indeed changed. I might come out of this bolder. I’ve always been moderately cautious throughout my life – this could be a step in a different direction. This might not be a new chapter in my life, but certainly a new page. GFBB didn’t change me. I changed myself. She was my incentive for getting out of my box and trying something new. But not just something new, but something selfish.

I try not to be selfish. I try to be as helpful, accommodating and frugal as I can. My muscle worship session with GFBB completely reversed that tendency. This was 75 minutes of me acting upon my lusts, my carnal desires, my sexual curiosities. This was me doing something purely for me and no one else. I benefitted from this experience alone (except for GFBB, who was a couple hundred dollars richer). This was “me” time.

Could this be the start of a reformed outlook on life? Will I start to live life to the fullest? Will I begin to, perhaps in minor ways, live life more selfishly? There’s nothing wrong with rewarding yourself every once in a while. This evening was my chance to reward myself. This was my chance to take hold of a unique situation and run away with it unashamedly.

GFBB earlier asked me what my mother would think if she knew I was in this hotel room with her. I told her she would probably be shocked. But what would she be more shocked at; the circumstances of the situation (paying a muscular woman to let me touch her body) or the fact that I took the initiative and sought out this opportunity to begin with?

I have no idea. I’ll probably never find out.

Lora Ottenad is not only pretty and strong, but she's local! (at least, for me)

Lora Ottenad is not only pretty and strong, but she’s local! (at least, for me)

So this is why this muscle worship session was the 75 greatest minutes of my life. Do I mean that in a literal sense? Of course not. That’s hyperbole. What I really mean is that this past hour+ could very well change the way I live my life – what jobs I choose to work at, how I spend my free time, how I relate with my family, who I choose to be friends with and what I plan to do with my life.

I know this is crazy. I know this evening will not define me. But I couldn’t help but wonder but this, even months later after the fact. The drive back to my apartment was interrupted by a stop off at Subway to grab a sandwich for dinner. It was approaching 8 p.m. and it was getting dark outside. The sun was fading fast, perhaps a symbolic commentary of the situation.

I returned home, turned on my computer, watched some old clips of “Whose Line is it Anyway?” on YouTube and ate my sandwich in peace. I was at peace. My heart stopped pounding nonstop. My blood pressure returned to normal. All the anticipation and anxiety I felt in the minutes leading up to knocking on GFBB’s hotel door was completely gone. I was at my natural emotional state, albeit whatever philosophical thoughts I had churning through my mind at rapid fire.

When I was done eating, all I could do was lie on my bed and ponder in complete silence. The silence was deafening, yet peaceful at the same time. No distractions. Nothing to stop these wild thoughts racing through me.

But something did eventually break my contemplation. I suddenly remembered something I forgot to ask GFBB before leaving her room.

I forgot to take a picture of her!

Concluded in Muscle Worship, Female Bodybuilders and the Greatest 75 Minutes of My Life (Epilogue)

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 Erotic Dreams of Max Shimura: Episode One – The Nameless Woman

I image the Nameless Woman would look like Rena Mero, who played "Sable" in the WWF during the 1990s.

I image the Nameless Woman would look like Rena Mero, who played “Sable” in the WWF during the 1990s.

Max couldn’t tell if he was awake or dreaming.

Is this room real? Are these walls real? Are the sounds of waves hitting the rocky shore genuine or a part of his rich imagination?

What about the beautiful woman standing across from him? Is she real?

Max couldn’t care less.

He didn’t know the woman’s name. Claire, perhaps? Or is it Jennifer? Or Stacy? Or Miranda? Or something else entirely? Max had no idea.

“I love you,” she says to him.

“I love you, too,” Max impulsively replies, not knowing who this woman is and how she knows him. What would his girlfriend think if she saw the two of them together like this?

Wait…does he even have a girlfriend? He cannot remember.

“Come to me,” she commands.

Max stands up off the bed and slowly approaches her. Shirtless, he suddenly feels inadequate compared to this gorgeous creature. Wearing nothing but white lace panties and a bra, she looks radiant; a glowing picturesque specimen of femininity. But who is she? Where does she come from? How did they make it into this room?

Before he could ponder these questions, he found himself face-to-face with her. He stared into her deep blue eyes, lost in its poetic magnificence. Impulsively, she kisses him, a deep languorous kiss that cuts through any boundaries that may have previously separated them. She tastes like blueberries and sunshine, a combination that only makes sense to him. Max closes his eyes, trying to imagine his girlfriend’s pretty face, but comes up empty. It’s like he’s forgotten what she looks like. Or did he ever know what she looked like to begin with?

Their lips eventually came apart and Max is able once again to breathe. Her breath tickles the small hairs on his neck, making them stand up at attention. Her arms wrap around his body, clinging to him like a small child embracing her mother. Max remains frozen, paralyzed, unable to move.

“I like how you taste,” he says to her.

She smiles. Her long blonde hair bounces as she lets out a tiny giggle. Not a schoolgirl type of giggle, but the giggle of a grown woman seductively flirting with her man. This turned Max on even further, as if he needed the extra inspiration.

Suddenly, she grabs his hand and she pulls him toward the bed. They walk side-by-side and feel the heat of their bodies radiate off each other. She then pushes him onto the bed, an unexpected show of force that takes Max totally by surprise. He feels his manhood quiver at her remarkable display of authority.

The Nameless Woman looks at Max and nods her head slightly, cuing him to remove the remainder of his clothing. He obliges.

First, Max takes off his shoes and socks and tosses them across the room unceremoniously. No need to be neat and tidy, Max decides.

Second, Max unbuckles his belt and drops his pants, revealing the inevitable bulge in his underwear. She giggles again. Was she giggling because his bulge is too small? Or is she giggling because of his quick arousal? Max needed to know…

The Nameless Woman snatches the bottom of his pants and pulls them off Max’s legs. She likewise tosses them across the room, uncaring about cleanliness. Then she zeroes in on Max’s underwear and hooks her index fingers underneath the waist. Max takes a deep breath as she drags his underwear down his body. His erect manhood protrudes outward, greeting her like a hungry beast. She smiles at the sight of his arousal, but does not make a sound.

She drops his underwear to the floor and takes one step back, fully examining Max’s nude form. Does she like what she sees? Is she judging him? Is she unimpressed?

“You’re beautiful,” Max manages to say, his voice squeaky and weak.

“Thank you,” she answers.

Stillness.

After a moment, the Nameless Woman takes several steps back and strikes a pose, showing off her flawless body. Long, curvy and tanned, she is every man’s dream. An impeccable demonstration of what a woman should look like. Her angelic form perfectly complements her gorgeous face, a visage that is seamlessly symmetrical and unapologetic in its youthfulness.

She slides her panties down to the floor, revealing her womanhood. Golden locks of hair cover her most intimate parts, like a magician covers up the secrets of the trade. Her panties pools around her feet and she kicks them off to the side.

Next, she reaches in front of her chest and unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the floor. Max’s eyes could not stop staring at her bountiful breasts, so plump and nubile, unlike the flat bosom of his girlfriend (whose name is merely a long forgotten memory).

Her dark pink nipples stand at attention, ready and willing to be pleased. Max desperately wants to put his mouth around them and suck on them till the day ends. But will she let him? How far can he go with her?

The bright sunlight casts a brilliant aura around her, further validating her Goddess-like nature.

“Lie down on the bed,” she whispers.

“Okay.”

Max does what he’s told and lies down on the bed, his erection standing straight up at attention. Max’s insecurities return. She must have been with hundreds of guys, none of them Asian like himself. All of them better endowed, more handsome and much more pleasant to look at, Max thought. Max couldn’t help it. Insecurities are hard to ignore, especially in moments like this.

As if she read his thoughts, the Nameless Woman sits down on the bed next to him and leans over for another kiss. This time, she uses her tongue to explore the insides of his mouth as if she were claiming him as her own. Max didn’t mind at all. He wants to be claimed. He wants to be hers. He wants her to take charge.

Her hands explore his body, caressing and touching with such a finesse he was sure he was in Heaven. When her fingers tickle his scrotum, Max feels a sudden jolt of electricity shoot up his entire core.

“I…love you,” Max struggles say, wanting to remind her of how much he loves her. Losing his composure as her fingers greedily move their way up to his erect manhood, Max comes to the realization that he’s never felt more like a real man in his entire life. For once, a woman is giving him unbridled pleasure for the sake of pleasing him; not because he wants her to, but because she wants to.

“Shhhhhh. Quiet,” she says back, tantalizing him with her touch.

The moment her fingers wrap tightly around the shaft of his penis, Max lets out a groan and feels his vision blur. A minute contraction surges throughout his manhood, forcing a tiny drop of clear fluid to leak out the tip. The Nameless Woman catches the drip on the tip of her index finger and rubs it into Max’s sensitive head.

Max couldn’t think; he only had one thing in mind: feeling. Feeling her touch, feeling her caresses, feeling her femininity joining his masculinity.

With the erotic artfulness of a skilled lover, she starts to lightly stroke him; up and down, up and down, up and down; until Max lets out another groan, this time harder and louder than the first. Waves of pleasure explode throughout his manhood as she continues to stroke him with sensual finesse. Max has no idea when the last time he ever experienced pleasure this deep, this provocative, this enticing.

Perhaps he’s never experienced this before. Perhaps this is the first time he’s ever felt pleasure in its truest form.

The Nameless Woman stops her stroking and gives Max’s penis a hard squeeze, making his entire body jolt in reaction. Many more small drips of fluid leak out of his manhood, but he has yet to fully come.

Gripping onto his penis more firmly, she knows it wouldn’t be long before Max climaxes. She wants to give him the best orgasm he’s ever felt and intends to make this a reality. She also doesn’t mind being known as “The Nameless Woman” to him. She knows this is all an act, a charade, a game.

She knows who has the REAL power in this relationship.

The Nameless Woman releases her squeeze and Max moans in response. She gives him a second squeeze, then a third, then a fourth, then a fifth. By now Max is on another planet, perhaps a different universe. He never knew his body could produce such pleasurable sensations. He doubts he’ll ever be the same after this.

She knows he’s close. But she wants to tease him even further. She wants to see how far the rabbit hole goes…

Freeing her fingers from his penis completely, the Nameless Woman decides it’s time to change things up. She lightly brushes the tip of her fingers against his tightened scrotum and moves her way up. His penis has become impossibly hard, harder than it’s ever been before. Max’s body has never responded to a woman’s touch this way before. His little penis has probably grown to a size that even male porn stars would consider respectable. But he’s not thinking about the size of his Asian manhood right now. In fact, he’s not thinking at all. This is the power Nameless Woman has over him. She owns him, controlling him, claiming him as her property, her toy, her plaything.

Max takes in a deep breath as her fingers finally brush the sensitive tip of his penis, sliding around the rim. He’s about to blow and they both know it. She decides it’s time to finish the job.

The Nameless Woman encloses her fingers around his shaft once again and grasps it securely, as if her life depended on her hanging on to it. She caresses his shaft up and down again and increases her pace as she sees fit. Max knows it’s going to end soon and closes his eyes to soak up the entire experience. He knows he’ll never experience pleasure so transcendent again in his lifetime. He knows…

She stops stroking him and gives him one last hard squeeze.

Eureka!

“Ah!” Max moans.

She lets go and watches Max ejaculate all over the bed sheets. Normally when he climaxes, his penis releases three or four squirts of semen before simmering down, but this time Max spurts six or seven times, all more powerful and potent than he’s ever spurted before.

After his spasms finally subside, the Nameless Woman snickers as she sees a large white pool of liquid spread all over the dark blue bed sheets. Max is currently on Cloud 9 and could care less what mess he’s made. This isn’t the first time he’s stained the sheets and it won’t be the last.

Several minutes later, Nameless Woman leans over and stares into Max’s eyes. They share an intimate moment together, a spiritual form of communication that could never be replicated nor understood by anybody else.

He cannot even begin to thank her for the selfless pleasure she’s given him. Knowing she unselfishly gave him pleasure when she expected nothing in return brings tears to his eyes. The gift of her divine touch will be a debt he could never repay. But she doesn’t expect to be repaid for her gift. Knowing he’s at peace is enough for her. And this peace brings tears to her eyes as well.

Finally, they share a kiss that lasts for an eternity. Is it a literal eternity? Probably not, but neither of them care at this point. Max closes his tear-soaked eyes and concentrates on feeling her lips against his. She tastes sweet and powerfully feminine, a taste Max could never put into words.

He doesn’t remember exactly when he drifts off to sleep, but when he did the Nameless Woman disappears along with her surroundings. The sunlight stops shining. The waves stop hitting the shore. All of that goes away as quickly as it appeared. The shared experience they had together is now a distant memory that neither will ever forget. Whatever comes next is completely irrelevant at this moment, when all that matters is the beautiful fact that a woman just gave a man the greatest pleasure he’s ever known.

Max still couldn’t tell if he was awake or dreaming, but he knew one thing for sure:

He was alive.

And he was thankful for it.

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.