Mystery Fitness Model Ch. 04

I woke up in Rachel's bed. My eyes half-opened to see the first sign of sunrise in her bedroom window. The alarm clock read 6:05.

And Rachel was licking and stroking my penis. She was tracing her tongue up the side of my shaft and all around my purple head.

I rubbed my eyes with one hand and reached the other hand down to run my fingers through Rachel's blonde hair. She let out an "mmm".

I remembered what day it was: "Happy three-month anniversary! I love you."

Rachel lifted her face up from my half-erect cock. "Tim, you remembered! Aww. I love you too!"

"Remember when you first said 'I love you'?"

--

My mind flashed back: it was late at night at PB Lifts. Both of us had done an intense workout around lunchtime, but we were back for more after date night: we'd had a steak dinner and gone to a comedy show. We were excited to make this day a two-a-day.

As the clock hit midnight we were the only ones left in an empty gym, and as per usual neither of us had tops on. The blue running shorts I had on were getting a little tight: I'd been dedicating myself to leg day and my ass and quads were growing into a giant, fine dumptruck.

Rachel was of course a picture of powerful fitness perfection: 5'4", blonde hair in a ponytail, grey booty shorts, white sports bra with thin straps across the back. Her two-a-day body part was shoulders, and she was on barbell presses. She stood with her back to me, feet planted, glutes and back engaged as she repeatedly lowered 65lb to her sternum, perfectly controlled, before pressing the weighted bar above her head. Her shoulders were growing wider as her waist stayed trim, well on the way to that stage-ready V shape in her upper body.

I stopped what I was doing - calf raises, for the record - and decided to have some fun with her. I walked over; she could see me in the mirror. She kept pounding reps, hoisting the bar clean and controlled. I pressed my body into her back - my pumped quads against her ass through our gym shorts, my junk digging into her lower back, my hands on her upper thighs and her hips.

Rachel hesitated and held the bar at shoulder height. Her breathing became a little heavier than before. I rubbed up and down her smooth, hard quads as I checked out her body in the mirror: engaged abs, an absolutely popping 8-pack with oblique lines leading down into her slate gray spandex shorts. Her nipples were poking through her white sports bra as her breathing got faster. I slipped my right hand inside her shorts and found her pussy was already a little wet.

My touch was electric on her: she held the barbell at her shoulders as she panted. I suddenly dropped to my knees and shimmied round to the front of Rachel's body, pulling down her shorts to expose her naked sex. She stepped out of her shorts with my help and I threw the partially sodden spandex 15 feet away.

My face mere inches from her pussy lips, I looked upwards past her abdominals and chest and told her in a low voice: "Keep lifting. Ten reps."

Rachel started pounding like there was no tomorrow: one explosive shoulder press past her chin and high into the air. I tapped her feet to get her to spread her legs, and she adjusted her stance as she brought her first rep back down.

Second rep. My mouth lips met her pussy lips, kissing them, nuzzling them, caressing them.

Third rep. She was so, so wet.

Fourth rep: the wide flat surface of my tongue pushed against her clitoris, and Rachel moaned as she pushed the bar upwards. I kept going.

Fifth rep. Her legs started shaking. Her lifts got slower. I wrapped my arms around her smooth, hard hamstrings and thighs.

Sixth rep. I started delivering proper friction to her clit. Rachel moaned even harder.

Seventh rep. Her tired delts and arms struggled but she brought the bar to the top. I increased the tempo on her clit.

Eighth rep. She let out a primal moan, a mix of horniness and exertion. It took at least seven seconds of summoning willpower, but Rachel got the bar to the top and held it there. Her whole body shook.

"I don't think I've got more in me," she panted.

I held her legs tighter. "Two more. You don't quit."

She knew she couldn't drop the bar; it would land right on my head. I went down on her once more with renewed vigor. Every fiber in her upper body tensed to start her ninth rep. Her biceps and lats must have been on fire at this point. She pushed the bar clean to the ceiling and brought it back down.

I grabbed her glutes and squeezed once. "Last rep! You can only cum once the bar's gone up. I've got you."

Squeezing her ass repeatedly was Rachel's sex kryptonite. Combined with clitoral stimulation, she came every time. I kept eating her out like there was no tomorrow, but my hands stayed away from her ass. No ass until she nailed the final rep.

Rachel called on every last reserve of strength and tensed her whole body. My view of her abs from below was driving me wild: eight mountains of muscle with deep valleys between. Her nipples were showing hard through the white fabric of her tiny sports bra.

Her whole body quivered as she pressed the bar. The metal rose an inch, then another, then another couple, and she reached a stop. I kept eating her pussy, but with every bit of vertical progress she made, I tip-toed my fingers up her hamstrings, up up up towards her luscious ass.

That was the motivation she needed. Just as well the gym was empty, cause Rachel's cry could be heard three warehouses away. She cleared the bar above hair height, and pushed her arms out to full extension.

I slapped both my hands on her ass and dug my fingers in, kneading her muscle. "Ahh! Aeehh!! Tim FUCK I'm cumming I LOVE YOU!!!!"

An enormous orgasm washed over Rachel as she kept the 65lb bar high in the air, her arms swaying at full extension. Her knees buckled and she started tipping back.

"Oh shit, oh shit!"

"I've got you," I said quickly, crouching up to wrap my arms around her upper back. I let her down backwards like she was my dance partner, and once her locked arms were holding the barbell far enough away from her head, she let the knurled surface roll off her fingers and fall about five feet to the floor.

CRASHCLANK! The barbell made an almighty racket. I pulled Rachel back upright and held her against me in a hug. Her abs pressed against my now rock-hard boner; her nips strained through her sports bra and poked me below my pecs.

"Tim. I fucking love you."

"I love you too, Rachel."

We'd professed the L word to each other!

"I'm fucking spent right now, so I am going to lie down on this bench and you are going to cum giving me some hard missionary dick."

"Yes ma'am."

She sat down on the weight bench and tried to take off her bra. Her arms were so like jelly that she couldn't manage it. "Help me," she whined helplessly.

I gladly assisted her. Once her B-cups and rock-hard nips were exposed, I threw her sports bra 15 feet the opposite direction from where her gym shorts landed. Then I took my shoes and shorts off and heaved them away in a completely different direction.

Rachel's body flopped onto the weight bench, her arms and legs falling down limp to the ground. Her boobs flopped; her defined quad muscles jiggled.

I started crawling up her body: my fingers traced their way up her honeyed thighs and to her spectacular abs. My mouth followed with a kissing pilgrimage over all eight rocks of her stomach. I moved my mouth to her right bicep then her left: she deserved some praise for how hard she'd pushed herself in those shoulder presses. Then I nuzzled on her nipples one by one: she let out slight gasps of pleasure and she winced at the touch.

As I kept sliding my body up hers, I kissed her neck, nibbled on her earlobe, and whispered: "Rachel Charlotte Jensen, I fucking love you."

At that exact moment, I entered her. Her vagina was already slick and wet from her recent orgasm, and so tight. She had a little shudder as she took me in, and the walls of her pussy contracted and shook on my rock-hard shaft.

I pushed slowly as deep as I could go: my nine inches bottomed out at her cervix, and Rachel winced just a little. I withdrew all the way to my the tip, wet with Rachel's juices and my precum.

I slid back in, and out, and in, getting faster, establishing a rhythm. Rachel's arms were still limp, flopped on the floor, but her abs were still convulsing as she made moans of pleasure, lying on the weight bench.

My tempo got faster, Rachel was reaching a precipice, and all of a sudden:

"AHH!!" We reached simultaneous orgasm. I sent volumes of semen deep inside her as Rachel's pussy walls convulsed up and down my rigid phallus. I pulled out and ejaculated rope all over her divine abs and pert boobs.

Rachel's whole body was limp. My naked muscular figure flopped down on the gym floor beside her. We'd pushed ourselves to the limit, physically and sexually, and in unison we gasped: "I fucking love you!"

--

Back in bed on our three-month anniversary morning, Rachel grinned. "Oh yes. I remember. Fuck that was crazy. I can't believe we didn't get caught."

Rachel slid her hand up from my penis over my stomach. My abdominal muscles were bigger than they used to be: more volume meant deeper grooves, which looked pretty damn good in the half-light of the early morning. She traced her finger over the ridges of my abs and up to circle my nipple, and I bounced my pecs one by one.

That's when Rachel gasped with delight.

--

If you'll remember the start of my muscle journey, I had had very little chest meat to speak of. Well, I hadn't known I was working the pecs all wrong. I was putting too much shoulder into my bench presses. Remember that time I benched 315lb while Rachel sucked me off? Oh I remembered it fondly, but I was using terrible technique.

Our trainer Pete insisted I dial the weight right back and concentrate on mind-muscle connection. It was embarrassing benching just 135lb for weeks, but bit by bit I started really activating my pec muscles. I could feel what was working them and what wasn't. Doing flys properly helped too.

And once I started activating the pecs, working them intentionally, they grew rapidly. Instead of a flat torso, I had three-dimensional pecs that were getting rounder and meatier by the week. I started looking more like a bodybuilder and less like some amateur who had no idea.

Then, two weeks ago, I was able to make my pecs dance: I bounced them up and down on their own, just a little bit. I didn't show Rachel though. I wanted to master this skill.

I kept honing the mind-muscle connection. I got the pec muscle twitch separate from my shoulder. I isolated left and right pecs. I directed my mind to hold each pec aloft for 10 seconds at a time, then 20, then a whole minute. It was like kegels, but for one specific muscle group. And still I didn't show Rachel.

--

Rachel's eyes went wide and her mouth went open. "Oh my god do that again!"

I sat up in bed, my torso upright. I bounced both pec muscles. I bounced one at a time. I bounced my them fast then bounced them slow, rolling the upper and lower pecs in a sexy undulation of chest meat. I had dedicated myself to bench presses, chest flys, incline, decline, left right isolated, and I had built these round meaty masses that turned me on.

And I was sharing this achievement with Rachel. My lover and girlfriend who had embarked me on this journey of bodybuilding, the girl with the fitness model body who never rested on her laurels.

Rachel sat up in bed onto her knees, and grabbed my two pecs with her two hands. As she squeezed the volume of my muscle, tweaking my nipples, she bit her bottom lip and ground her thighs together, giving herself a bit of stimulation in the downstairs region.

I hopped up onto my knees, then raised my arms to do a double bicep flex. As I tensed my abs and strained my arm muscles, I continued to make my chesticles dance for my lady.

Rachel pulled back to mirror my flex pose. This is something we did for each other: simultaneous flexing, staring at each other, getting turned on both by the other person and by our own muscle-pumped egos.

Her lean broad shoulders were getting wider and wider, and her lat muscles were now peeking out from behind her chest and could be seen from front on. Her biceps had grown and her triceps had an even more defined horseshoe shape. She was going to be a formidable competitor in the Women's Physique division.

Her abs: I know, I've gone on about them at length, but they were easily the most powerful, most attractive I'd ever seen, with V-shaped striations pointing down to her wet pussy. I got to see great female stomachs day in day out at PB Lifts, and Rachel was easily the queen of abs.

She had a little definition in the pecs under her B-cup boobs with their cute little nipples. She attempted to make her chest dance like mine a few times, but was mostly jerking her impressive shoulders.

"Damn! Fuck! How do you do it?"

"Mind-muscle connection. Really concentrate on engaging your pecs. Maybe like you do for a coregasm."

She tried again but to no avail. "Fuck. I know what I'm working on next. Ugggghhhhhh.... motivate me!"

We both knew what that meant. Rachel put her arms at her side, tensed her whole body, braced herself, and I punched her square in the abs.

She let out a grunt of punishing satisfaction. "Hit me again! Like you mean it!"

I wound up and gave her a one-two punch, left right. She furiously flexed into a crab pose, her biceps huge, her shoulders swollen with motivation, then leaned back to brace herself once more.

I placed my left hand around her lower back, held it tight, and punched my right fist into her world-class abdominals. Her eight-pack was hard and rippling and taking the worst punishment I could possibly deliver, but this was her motivation.

"Aaaaarrgghh!!!" She was rippling and rolling her abs as I punched her, starting towards a coregasm. As I paused in my punching, she tackled me and pushed me flat on my back onto the bed. She straddled me, rubbed her pussy into my abs, and I bucked to kick my legs out from bent at the knees to straight out.

She laid her right hand on my pecs - which I made dance, obviously - and grabbed my iron-hard cock with her left, guiding it into her hot wet vagina.

She planted both hands on my chest meat, and rocked back and forth on my dick. Rachel wanted to reach orgasm as quickly as possible and I was just fine with that.

I saw her arms were lean: even with her elbows locked, her biceps and triceps had this raised definition from elbow to shoulder. Her B-cup boobs were cute and I reached my hands up to tweak her nipples. Her quads were strong and getting bigger and more defined by the week.

Rachel's abs were undulating: she was turning herself on both with my cock and from her insides. She rode me back and forth at speed, stimulating her vulva on my lower abs, and it wasn't long before we both reached the tipping point...

"AEEGH!" We both let out shouts and grunts of delight. I pinched both of her nipples as she dug her fingers and fingernails into my chest meat, her vaginal walls orgasmically shuddering over my titanium rod, sending me into ecstasy and shooting cum deep inside her.

I removed my hands from her boobs and slapped her ass cheeks, kneading the hard muscle of her glutes. That intensified Rachel's orgasm, and there was a new wave of shuddering in her pussy. She removed her right hand from my pecs, balled it into a fist, and banged on my abs. Fortunately I tensed them just in time so I wouldn't get winded.

After pounding on my stomach three or four times, she leaned both fists flat against my abs, putting her entire weight on her arms as she rocked her pussy up and down over my dick, milking the last drops of cum from me. She had incredible strength and control to manage this: her knees and feet were aloft, her entire bodyweight supported through her arms on my abdominals. We had been testing each other's strength in this way and it felt so hot to know we were both getting stronger.

After what seemed like five minutes of post-orgasmic slow milking, she collapsed her upper body onto mine, me still inside her. I stroked her hair, her arms, her back, and gave her ass a squeeze.

"Happy anniversary," I said.

"Fuuuuuck yes. I love you."

"I fucking love you too."

"And I swear to you: I am gonna make my boobs dance. It's just over two weeks until we have that day on the boat. That's my goal."

Oh yes. I was looking forward to boat day. Rachel in a skimpy swimsuit. Me in a skimpy swimsuit. And friends from the gym too - including the bikini competitor Harriet.

To be continued.