Pump Up The Fam Pt. 01

Her frame was imposing, strapped with heavily defined muscles but lacking any of the stringy sinews or jutting veins that roided-out female bodybuilders suffered. She hadn't lost anything in the chest like those over-ambitious others, either. If anything, her breasts were larger and riper than ever. Two lightly tanned spheres of pillowy flesh sat high and firm without a bit of sag in every picture he could find.

This thickset version of Melanie was nothing at all like the smaller, gentler woman he remembered.

She was undeniably feminine, with an awe-inspiring hourglass figure and that signature crimson hair flowing like living flames down to her attention-grabbing rump. Arousingly feminine, in fact, Clive felt a small spike of shame as he repositioned the computer on his lap for a second time to accommodate an awkward pressure in his boxers.

One thing jumped out at him from all the research.

In every single image--be it posing in the gym, grandstanding at a competition, or promoting a local business--his mother had a pair of airbuds in her ears. He had double-checked after the initial discovery, having to zoom in on some of the more distant shots, but that hint of white stuck in her ear canal was always there.

Then Clive remembered the music Emily blasted in the basement and the conflicting feelings it had stirred in him--fear, but also the whispers of untapped potential.

Closing the screen, he listened to the sounds of the sleeping house before slipping from bed and silently donning some old sweats.

He needed to find out for himself what the hell was going on with his family.

________________

Clive's arms trembled like soggy noodles as he dropped the bar back onto the rack after his third set of ten reps on the bench press.

Free weights were freaking difficult.

The instructions he had pulled up on his phone had a lot of information about the many benefits of maintaining balance and control but didn't mention anything about muscle fatigue or the risk of being crushed to death.

Boys love my ass, they love my tits,

I tease them with my naughty bits.

Boys are cute, but I fuck men.

I'm the perfect specimen.

Synth-pop thundered in his wireless headphones. The drumming bass buzzed throughout his sweaty body and electrified his weary soul.

Clive had been gratified to find Emily's workout CD still sitting in the music system. It had the poorly printed look of a bootleg knock-off, but the label was still clearly legible.

"Buns and Guns Motivational Mashup."

The music was all high tempo and female-orientated. The strangest thing about it was the effect different tracks had on his performance. The weird blend of unsettling emotions was still there during each song, but some spurred him to greater heights of achievement more than others.

That one number about stomping creeps and crushing wimps made Clive feel deeply uncomfortable, stalling his physical momentum. But the uplifting tunes blaring out messages of sex and entitlement had him adding extra weights to already challenging deadlifts.

He had been at it for hours, checking his form in the many mirrors and quietly thanking whoever had installed the soundproofing panels in the ceiling. Skipping back and forth through the playlist, cycling through each piece of equipment, and chewing his way through the stash of energy bars he had uncovered on a shelf tucked into the back corner.

Blood coursed through his arteries, perspiration shed from his body in rivers, and the atmosphere felt humid as dawn's first rays tinted the small basement window. Clive's gray tracksuit was drenched when he achieved a personal record on the lat pulldown bar of two hundred and twenty pounds. The loose cotton of his baggy hoodie felt restrictive around his chest and shoulders.

His body was humming with fresh strength and vitality as he toweled off the bench and guzzled water from a plastic sports bottle.

Boys are cute, but I fuck men.

I'm the perfect specimen.

A dark shadow fell over Clive.

"You're not supposed to be down here."

His not-so-little sister glowered down at him, wearing stretchy tangerine tights, neon pink runners, and a small black tank top that did nothing to hide her impressively carved physique and generous young breasts.

The first light of the morning sun illuminated Emily's long, straight platinum hair like a halo, and her pale ivory skin glowed as though recently oiled. Even the many studs decorating her ears and the ring in her nose seemed polished.

She looked like...

I'm the perfect specimen.

Clive's pulse surged, and he sat forward on the padded bench to hide the thickening bulge in his sweat pants. He didn't break eye contact with his youngest sibling though, staring her dead in those bright cobalt eyes as he stood his ground.

"This is my home too, and it's just the damn basement." He deadpanned, cocking a challenging brow. "What you gonna do about it, lil' sister? Tattle on me to Mommy?"

His words hit Emily like a haymaker, and she stood in stunned silence for a moment before her pretty face heated with anger with a hint of something less identifiable.

"Mom would tan your hide and wear it like a cape, dork. I saw how she put you on the ground last night." She marched over the sound system, and Clive couldn't help watching how her rock-hard glutes moved in those razor-thin tights. "But a real woman fights her own battles. You want access to my fucking equipment? Then you'll have to earn the right, bro."

She donned a pair of fingerless training gloves and hit a few buttons on the digital display. The song in Clive's headphones cut out and began thumping through the speakers again, rattling the weights in their racks.

My hips are fire, my pussy's slick,

I've got the finest taste in dicks.

If you don't rate, then guess again,

'Cause I'm the perfect specimen.

"What are you talking about?!"

He had to shout to be heard over the deafening bass, feeling it in his chest and back molars simultaneously. Emily gave him a vicious grin that was full of bared teeth, twisting into a sidelong bodybuilder pose that sucked in her core and made her muscles pop with jaw-dropping precision.

"A lifting challenge, nerd!" She called back, cheeks flushed with excitement. "Beat me, and I'll grant you free use of the gym anytime you like. Shit, if you can outlift me, I'll give you whatever you want."

With the terms apparently set, the statuesque blonde began adding weights to the bench press. Once three hundred pounds were loaded, she positioned herself beneath the bar and shook out her arms before securing a good grip.

"This'll be a nice warmup for me. Watch how it's done." She catcalled, pumping out a few quick reps with obvious effort before dropping them back into the rack. "Now it's your turn. Try not to hurt yourself."

Clive shook himself out of a brief stupor. He had been mesmerized by the way her jiggling breasts swayed with the exertion. His cock was stiff as an iron rod, and there was no sense in hiding it any longer.

The amount of weight should have been troubling. He couldn't remember what his personal best was in that particular exercise, but the ear-splitting music was like a shot of adrenaline injected straight into his racing heart. His mind focused inward until nothing existed but himself and the challenge ahead.

Boys are cute, but I fuck men.

"Step aside, Em." Clive growled, taking a long drink from his sports bottle and tossing it away. "Let big bro show you how a real man lifts."

Emily frowned, her narrowed gaze taking in his swagger, then dropping to the obscene outline in his sweatpants. Her stern expression slackened. She scurried to make room.

Laying back, Clive squared his shoulders, tested his grip, and pushed. The bar lifted slowly at first, but as he applied more effort, it rose easily into the air. The chest and sleeves of his gray hoodie stretched as his arms extended.

Gloved hands gripped the bar alongside his own. Clive glanced up to find his younger sister almost straddling his recumbent skull. Her thick, muscular thighs were only inches from his ears, and the pronounced cleft of her girlhood was visible through her sheer orange tights above his nose.

"What the hell are you doing, Em?"

"Duh! I'm spotting you, dork." She sniffed, looking away. "Don't get any weird ideas."

"Huh, whatever. This isn't so heavy." Clive snorted and started to push out a few reps. Emily's knuckles whitened, and he felt the weight increase but struggled through the set without complaint. "How about another fifty pounds? Think you can handle that, baby sis?"

His sister's pupils dilated. Her full lips parted in surprise as a small moist spot darkened the crotch of her orange tights.

"The national record in my weight class is three hundred and ninety pounds." She breathed, clearly awe-struck, before rallying her resolve. "I... I don't know--but you better believe a lazy nerd like you won't defeat me!"

Swapping out, Emily's cobalt eyes went wide when Clive took her place as spotter. The lengthening lump in his pants loomed menacingly above her blushing face, and her nostrils flared as though she were trying to catch its scent.

I've got the finest taste in dicks.

"Three reps counts as a successful set, got it? Don't you dare think about trying any funny business." She warned before lifting the weight with an unladylike grunt.

Clive shrugged, not bothering to call bullshit. Instead, he rested his fingertips on the underside of the bar as Emily fought and strained through the first, then the second lift. On the third, her brawny arms started to shake, a vein stood out on her temple, and the cold steel bar sank deep into the soft flesh of her tits.

Her feet left the floor as she flailed under the crushing burden, and Clive waited until she shot him a panicked look before hefting the weights back into the rack with a loud clang.

Emily leaped to her feet with a furious expression, covered in a sheen of perspiration, and clenching her small fists.

"Don't get cocky, nerd." She snarled, chest heaving for breath. "You haven't won until you complete three full repetitions. Fat fucking chance of that happening."

She was clearly pissed at her failure, but Clive's rigid manhood was throbbing in time with the fast beat of the music as he drank in the sight of his younger sister's incredible figure.

Every gym-honed inch of her broadcasted unyielding strength and feminine power. She was a blossoming goddess in the making, and despite their familial bond, he wanted her so fucking badly it verged on painful.

"Just remember your promise, baby sis." He taunted as they exchanged places again. "Big bro is coming to collect."

A wild heat suffused the room, both of them sweating profusely as the edges of the mirrors began to fog. Clive's uncomfortable tracksuit pulled and stuck to his skin like glue, but he ignored it as he moved into the first rep.

Once again, he was mildly astonished at how well he managed the substantial weight. He could feel the resistance in his pectorals, deltoids, and triceps, but it wasn't overwhelming. The percussive sonic waves of the bassline seemed to massage his straining body and reinvigorate his muscles.

"One." He counted them out, staring straight up at Emily's barely-concealed pussy, scarcely noticing the extra pressure the treacherous blonde applied to the bar.

Her anger was fading to be replaced with confusion, then concern, when Clive smoothly dropped the bar to his chest for the second repetition. Her forearms tensed as she pushed down harder.

"Two!"

Emily was leaning over him, her enormous breasts glistening with beaded moisture when he completed the lift. He could feel the added poundage as she openly threw all her weight onto the bar for the final push.

His muscles bunched and burned, shoulders clenching and ears ringing with booming rhythm as he gave it every last ounce of juice he had and completed the last lift.

Boys are cute, but I fuck men.

I'm the perfect specimen.

"THREEEE!!" Clive roared, his old gray hoodie bursting apart into tatters from the force of the swelling musculature beneath.

"Noooo! How--how did you beat me?" Emily dangled above him. Arms straight, elbows locked, and pink runners hanging off the ground as she held her sculpted upper body over the steel bar. "OMG, bro! Look at how fucking big you've grown."

Her gaze remained stuck to his suddenly exposed torso as Clive gently guided the bar--with his younger sibling still attached--back into place. Sitting up on the bench and checking out one of the steamed-up mirrors revealed a stunning revelation.

"Clive, you're fucking jacked!" Emily gasped, clutching her hands together under her mighty bosom. Her erect nipples threatened to tear through the small tank top. "Oh god, look at those shoulders and pecs... look at your goddamn arms! I want to grate fucking cheese on those abs and obliques."

Ignoring the schoolgirl level of excited gushing, Clive stared in fascination at his reflection, plucked away torn scraps of cotton, and examined himself in more detail.

How had he missed it?

His little sister wasn't wrong--and she was little again compared to his vastly improved form--he had taken on the masculine proportions of a supreme Adonis. A couple of spare tires around his middle and flabby man-tits had evaporated overnight to be replaced with a figure that could have been carved from Corinthian marble.

Beefy slabs of muscle were stacked high, creating the hard lines and rugged angles of a physique so manly it belonged in a Roman gladiatorial arena or a spartan battlefield.

He lifted an arm for an experimental bicep curl, and Emily practically swooned.

If you don't rate, then guess again,

'Cause I'm the perfect specimen.

The music still thundered from the compact speakers, and Clive's restless cock lurched in his sweats along with it. Turning slowly, he locked a burning stare on his hyperventilating sister, who was intent on devouring him with one of her own.

"How do I rate now, Em?" He smirked, rippling his new muscles in a full-body flex he had once seen on television. It wasn't as difficult as he had first suspected. "Good enough to workout in the basement, do you think?"

Emily moaned lewdly in response, falling to her knees, hands buried in the dark patch spreading between her thickly corded thighs with spittle flecking her plump lips.

"Oh god, big bro... how's this possible?" She spluttered, rocking hornily in place with wide eyes locked onto the prominent outline of his twitching manhood. "It's not supposed to work like that. Shit, you're huge... urg! Like--like in my dreams... but you're my brother, and I'm still dripping fucking wet for you!"

Clive could smell her arousal now. The gorgeous muscle princess reeked of clean sweat and hot snatch as she squirmed prettily for him. The sight of all those smooth feminine muscles, trim waist, wide hips, and abundant breasts packed into a forbidden, platinum-blonde package spelled the end for his poor sweatpants.

With the sound of rending cloth, his stiffness tore free of its imprisonment, rising to greet the day like a meaty monolith and slapping against his flattened stomach.

The thing was freaking gigantic!

Clive was more than passingly familiar with his wedding tackle. He was a young man, after all, with the normal post-puberty urges and an internet connection with which to quell them. He was accustomed to a moderately sized tool that would, presumably, keep some lucky lady reasonably happy in the distant future.

This wasn't that.

Like the rest of him, Clive's dick had grown in both height and width into an impossibly girthy weapon of mass destruction topped with a bulbous tip that leaked gooey precum into his belly button.

"Oh, Jesus... oh fuck, big bro!" Emily wailed, flopping backward onto the floor mats and ripping the saddle out of her sodden orange tights. "I don't care anymore. Your little sister needs that massive cock to tame her willful pussy! Punish my naughty hole with your glorious sibling dick!"

Bowing her strong back, she bucked her firm hips in the air. Her pretty pink slit was dewy and inviting, with only a small landing strip of blonde fuzz leading the way to her taboo entrance.

The enclosed space felt like a sauna and stank of imminent sex. The bass and his heartbeat hammered in Clive's ears, and the sight of his superbly built adversary begging to be conquered by his ferocious weapon proved to be irresistible.

Kicking free the last remnants of his pants, he stalked towards Emily, gripping his base like the handle of a truncheon.

"Is this what you want, Em?" He grunted, stepping between her trembling knees and tapping the engorged crown against her budding clit. "You want this older brother cock ravishing your baby sister cunt?"

"Fuck, why does that make it so much hotter?" Her expression was twisted in an agony of raw lust. "Why does the thought of getting ruined by my hunky big bro's dick make me so fucking wet?!"

Clive began rubbing the underside of his turgid shaft through her sopping folds, spreading her girly juices down his length and making her whine like a trapped animal.

"Just so you know, I'm not going to wear a fucking condom." He warned, not really giving a shit. Some primal part of him roared that this sweet pussy was his to claim by right of victory. "You should have considered that before you made that stupid promise."

"I want to feel all of you, big brother." Emily panted, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "I'm not even on the pill. Didn't think I'd ever find a man who could beat me. Let's roll the dice and see what happens."

Clive shrugged, lubing up his veiny length with her honey. "Are you a virgin, Em? Will this be your first time?"

"There was a boy after high school, but he was puny and weak. I know that now." Emily's head thrashed in frustration, and long strands of white-gold hair stuck to her blushing cheeks. "I want to be properly deflowered by a real man! I don't care about the risks, stick it in and fuck me already, you giant stud!"

She was holding the half-bridge pose well. A lesser woman would have collapsed in exhaustion by now. But Clive knew his impressive younger sibling was more than the average girl. She was goddamn magnificent, and he wanted to own her completely.

"Then take it, baby sister! I'm going to pound this naughty little cunt until you forget that any other men exist!"

"YEEESSS~!!"

Emily wailed in victory when Clive rammed himself inside her welcoming heat. She was sensationally tight, and her slick channel clamped down on his plunging girth immediately, forming an airtight seal. He grabbed her tensing asscheeks--they were like two halves of a cannonball in his grasp--and clawed away the orange spandex as he began savaging that forbidden snatch.

"Oh god! Oh god! Oh, my fucking god!" Emily's delectable knockers had sprung free from the inadequate tank top and clapped together right under her nose. "You stretching me out, big bro... your amazing manly dick is taking my virginity all over again!"

"Jesus, Em, you're like a goddamn vice! How much pelvic training have you done?"

"So... nyaaa~ so much training. He--heaviest kegel bells on the market." She spluttered through sagging lips. Her immense thighs bulged with jacked muscle as she clamped them around Clive's humping waist. "Can't let you pull out--haaaa!--at the last minute, bro."

Pushing her shoulders back into the mats and locking her ankles over the small of his back, Emily grinned madly up at her older brother. Every perfectly sculpted muscle in her superhuman body went taut as she swiveled her athletic hips and milked his thick, ravaging prick with incestuous intent.