Reality Bites #1          Musclefan UK

 

I had always been into female muscle. Ever since I saw one of my classmates get beat up of a younger girl in High School, the thought of a female being able to overpower a male got me extremely turned on. I always dreamed of dating a bodybuilder, or even a strong fitness type, but I didn’t think it could ever happen. I liked female muscle, but I was by no mean obsessed. At this stage of my life I didn’t own, or had never seen a mixed wrestling or posing video. I had never visited a muscle web site, and never masturbated about the idea (well, not that often).

 Other non muscle girls still appealed to me, after all, it was all I was going to get, and when I started dating a pretty 19 year old called Gemma, who was not into fitness, I was still happy with my partner. Gemma was 19, I was 24 and many people cast a disapproving look when we went out because of the age thing. I didn’t care, Gemma was so nice, but sadly for me, she was not into sport at all. Even walking to the shops was a major chore for her. She wasn’t fat or anything, nice body infact, but nowhere could you see even a glimmer of a toned bicep or a rippling abdominal.

 We had been dating for 6 months when we were sat on the sofa one night. We were just joking around and began to play fight as we had done many times. I began to tickle Gemma and had her held down. “Stop stop” she screamed out. I had her held down and tickled away under her arms. Without warning, she wriggled free, and managed to flip herself over to get on top of me. She began to tickle me. At first it was fun, but after a while I had had enough and shouted, “stop”. She continued so I asked her again to cease. She was laughing and so I decided it was time to flip her off me, and issue more tickles of my own. My brain sent to motion down the nerve to the arms to lift her from me, but for some reason, my arm did not respond. I glanced my head to the right and noticed that the reason for my static movement was that Gemma had my arm pinned to the carpet. I wriggled, I pushed, I pulled, I was stuck fast, she was pinning me to the carpet by strength alone. By now, my sides were splitting from the constant tickling so I had no choice. I screamed out “stop, stop please”.

Gemma laughed, “you’ll have to get free to make me stop”. She hadn’t even noticed that I had been trying my hardest for the past two minutes. I continued to beg, and eventually, she either got bored, or sympathetic, and stopped the onslaught.

“Why didn’t you flip me off you” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

“I tried, I couldn’t get free” I admitted with embarrassment.

“Ha Ha, you must be really weak” she mocked.

I knew she was right. It was then I noticed that despite the embarrassment, I had a raging hard on. Part of me wanted her to overpower me again then and there, but the reality of the situation struck me. Did I really want to be proved to be weaker than a 19 year old girl? My girlfriend! The thought was awesome, the reality shameful. I just laughed at her comments and went upstairs while she made the dinner. I undress to get in the shower, my hard on was still present as the thoughts of the event were replayed in my mind. Before I realized what I was doing, I was jerking off over the thoughts of her overpowering me. God, I wished it were her doing it to me. Her brief show of power was driving me mental.

The next few months, nothing else really happened other than the fact that I had noticed my muscle obsession beginning to grow. At first it was looking up pictures of bodybuilders on the net. Then it was looking and masturbating. Then it was even the thought of muscles that got me hard. It even got to the stage where I was ringing a French bodybuilder to talk about her muscles and a possible session. I had also noticed small but very firm biceps developing on Gemma. I knew she didn’t work out but the muscles were defiantly firming up. I would get hard instantly in bed when I felt her arms. I was cautious not to feel them too often in case she got suspicious, but sometimes I just couldn’t keep my hands off her lovely firm biceps. We had play wrestled a little in bed too, but she had not overpowered me once. In fact, if we had been keeping any sort of score, it was I who was way ahead. I longer for her to explode and pin me down, but it was usually me who ended up on top, pinning her down. I began to doubt the incident had really happened. OK, her biceps looked small but strong. They were not too defined but were hard. But this didn’t necessarily equate to strength. Perhaps I was a lot stronger than her, and that one night had just been my sub conscious making me resist and hold back my real strength.

As time passed, I was fantasizing more and more. When we made love, I would imagine she was forcing me to have sex. My mind was filled with thoughts of being overpowered, embarrassed, even raped by my girlfriend and other muscle women. I longed to wrestle her again, but I couldn’t force it, and the situation never really arose.

I had been to the gym one night. As I came in, Gemma was watching TV. “Hi muscle man” she joked. I was pretty skinny, but went to the gym for cardio and a bit of lifting. We started to chat and she called me muscle man again. I have no idea why she did this, but I noticed it and did a coy arm flex for her.

“Hey, do that again” she asked. I refused. My bicep was fairly hard, and even a little defined, but it was also pretty small due to the thin nature of my arms. “Come, on, flex again” she asked.

“Ok, I will if you will too” I said. As I had noticed the firm biceps in bed, it was finally the chance to see them in full flex.

I flexed mine and she felt them. “They are fairly hard actually” she commented in all seriousness. Being honest, my arms were quite hard. She felt them for a few seconds then withdrew her hand.

“Come on then Miss, lets have a see at your big biceps” I stated.

“No, I’m not flexing for you, I have no muscles, you will just laugh” she said, again in all seriousness.

I grabbed her hand and pulled it in a mock flex position, but she put no effort into it.

“Come, on, I promise I won’t laugh” I said. She still refused.

“You have got some muscle, I noticed it in bed” I said to her.

Looking very sheepish, she raised her arm and flexed. Her eyes lit up, as did mine, when the bicep rose from her arm. “Look” I said, “you have got a nice bicep there”. I went to feel the bicep, but she beat me to it with her free hand. “Oh my God, I have got a muscle” she said. She was genuinely shocked. She kept feeling it, almost proud of her new find. I had to ask to get my turn.

I placed my fingers around the muscle. It was only small, but protruded nicely from her arm. It looked quite good, it felt amazing. I was going to ask for an arm wrestle right then, but I needed to go upstairs to ‘relieve’ my erection.

About an hour later, without me having to ask, she flexed again. “What you doing?” I asked her

“Just checking that it’s still there” she joked. I got to feel it again and once more, my erection arrived.

The next night, we were out in the local bar. My friend walked in, and Gemma was quick to tell him about her new found muscle. “Hey, I have muscles in my arm” she shouted at him. Her muscle was not that great, it was no match for a bodybuilder, not even for a sporty athlete, but she was proud of it, and I loved it.

When we got in, we were both quite drunk. I decided to pursue the origin of her muscles.

“So Gemma, how long have you been working out?” I asked

“Working out, I don’t, far too lazy for that” she joked.

“So, where have the muscles come from?” I asked

“I don’t know, must be from work, yes that must be it” she explained.

Gemma was a waitress and thinking about it, she did carry around lots of heavy trays and plates. I would later find out just how heavy. I went to pick her up from work once and the place needed to be cleared up so I offered to help. I didn’t say anything to her, but I was struggling with some of the pots and plates and the next day, my arm ached like hell.

As we were drunk, I temporarily lost the fear of embarrassment. “Well Miss Muscles, wanna arm wrestle me?” I challenged.

She refused, “oh yeah, just so you can beat me and make me look weak” she said. I was hard now, and horny and I wouldn’t just let this drunken moment pass us by.

“Come, on, just for fun” I said. “NO!” came the reply.

“Come on, you called me weak once when you tickled me, you have to prove it now” I said

She clearly didn’t want to, but I was getting to her,

“Oh for Gods sake, lets get it over with, don’t laugh though” she said.

We locked hands. She had fairly big hands and I felt her grip immediately. We started off slow. I didn’t put too much into it, just wanted to hold her steady and test her out. I decided to insert some force, but her arm didn’t budge. Suddenly I sobered up. My drunken fantasy wanted me to arm wrestle and lose, now suddenly the reality hit home. I had to win or would look so weak and pathetic. I increased my force, still she didn’t budge. She began to laugh. “Arghhhhhhh” I let out a massive groan, still no budging her, then to my horror, she increased her power and started to move my arm back. She laughed as my arm continued to move back. I had nothing more to insert into the dual and I was beaten.

“Wow, I beat you, you must be so weak” she shouted at me. She still didn’t think she was particularly strong; it was me who was weak.

“I am not weak, you must be strong” I said quickly.

“I am not that strong, my friend Liz is much stronger than I am” she said.

I suddenly felt sober, and pathetic.

I was about to walk off when Gemma called out to me “hey, come on, my left arm isn’t that strong, you have a chance”. My God, she was patronizing me, my 19-year-old girlfriend was stronger than me, and she was mocking me about it.

I returned to the floor and we locked left hands. As we started this time, she began to squeeze my hand in hers. It hurt. The match followed the pattern of the last one. I held on but eventually she pinned me. This time she kept my hand in her strong grip, leaned over and kissed me.

“I still love you even if you are a weakling”  she whispered.

For months I had lived out this scenario, this fantasy in my head. I had a hard on like never before, but I had never felt so awful with myself. Reality had bitten.