Trophy Wife Pt. 01

"She missed Clara's, first day at primary and secondary school, not to mention her eighteen birthday," Billie went on.

Clara looked away from her rambling sibling, overcome with embarrassment and guilty. The kind born from not wanting to be reminded of such memories; the kind born from not wanting to be reminded of her mother's ignorance and obsession.

"So to answer your question on why I haven't followed in my mother's footsteps." Billie made it a point in looking directly at her mother as the response was issued, knowing it would cut deep into her heart. "Why the fuck would I want to? Now if you'll excuse me. I've suddenly lost my appetite."

Billie paced through the kitchen, caring not for how much noise the door made as she slammed it behind her.

Silence.

***

After dinner, everyone had moved to the living room, the TV mutedly sounding in the background. Each member of the Jones family sat, save for Clara, who had been ushered up by Tiffany to stand in the middle of the floor so they could compare muscles. Clara begrudgingly complied out of kindness towards her guest, pulling her leg out to the side just as her mother had done thousands of times over the years. Like her sister, Clara obviously had no interest in bodybuilding, but clearly some things rubbed off on her. Billie just watched, sulking.

"Oh my god, your legs are like toothpicks. Mine are so much bigger." Tiffany jabbed with humor. She pulled her leg out to compare with Clara's, clearly already double in size without even flexing, and when she did, the fabric of her jeans busted to reveal the teardrop pillar-thick meaty thigh once hidden underneath. Tiffany couldn't refrain from giggling. "I love it when that happens," she added, running a hand over her thigh.

Robert caught Susan's curious expression that followed Tiffany's flex. He wasn't quite sure what it was. Surprise, maybe? Would he go so far as to think it might even be jealousy? "What is it?" he queried softly in confidence.

"Oh nothing, it's just..."Susan swallowed, clearly struggling to accept the fact that had laid itself bare before her. "Tiffany's quads are bigger than mine were at that age. Even I didn't have a teardrop so developed back then. Took me years to get that, only for her to get in a few months."

Robert looked, now sharing his wife's disbelief.

Tiffany brought her left leg up, the fabric of her jeans busting slightly and forming a slit so her calf could be presented. A vein crested the face of the bulging muscle. The teen, predictably, giggled girlishly. "You got any measuring tape around? I'm pretty sure these are bigger than yesterday's measurements."

Clara complied, though this time out of genuine curiosity. Seeing Tiffany's calf at first glance, a specific thought formed in the back of the Clara's mind, glancing at her mother. But she withheld on making that thought public, handing the tape to Tiffany.

"Oh no, you do it," she suggested.

"I don't know how to," Clara shot back.

Susan sighed. Obviously the task fell back on her, taking the tape from Tiffany. The mother's mind was still reeling from the fact the teen's thighs were so large, wrapping the tape around her calf, mutedly eyeballing its beefy details. She hesitated, taking a moment to process the measurement mentally before making it public.

"Well?" Tiffany queried, chirpy.

Twenty inches."

There was a brief moment of curious silence. Robert shared an knowing look with Susan before he spoke. "Wait. Doesn't that make—"

"—Oh my god, they're bigger than yours, Susan!" Tiffany chirped.

In spite of maintaining her stropping, even Billie was surprised by this stark revelation, her brow raised in curiosity. Though not much else was issued beyond that, still silent. Still seething over the teen's comment.

Susan, though, was obviously shocked by the measurement. It had only taken Tiffany a few months to outgrow her in calf size, compared to the years it took Susan. Sure, Tiffany had a bit of 'help' on the side, but so did Susan, yet the teen's calves were larger. The only plausible explanation for Tiffany's growth rate Susan could think of was that her genes were passed down from her father...whomever he was.

Susan put the tape back, the revelation gnawing on her mind. Upon closing the drawer, she spotted Tiffany's mother Jackie pull up in her Ford Focus. Time for Tiffany to head home, she supposed. Though it was clear the teen wasn't best pleased by her mother's sudden appearance. Not to mention it was obvious Tiffany was enjoying the company she had with Susan, her trainer.

"Shit. I didn't think she'd be here so soon."

A light bulb flashed on it Susan's mind as an idea formed. "Run out to your mother. See what she says about you staying the night. I'm sure the girls have some old PJs you can slip into."

Billie and Clara looked at one with shared jealousy as Tiffany rushed out. They never got to do anything like sleepovers as kids. It wasn't long before Billie stormed off upstairs, slamming her bedroom door.

When Tiffany returned, the smile she expressed indicated she had been given the go-ahead by her mother, which Susan returned with a friendly wave out the window. Susan was so fixated on Tiffany being given permission that she hadn't noticed Robert go upstairs to confide with and comfort Billie.

Clara, though, was different. She may not have liked the fact her mother missed out on so many occasions when growing up, but had grown to accept that as she matured.

"Clara, would you take Tiffany up to your room, help dish out some of your old PJs and clothes for tomorrow?"

"Yeah." Clara complied, but a part of her felt sorrowful towards her elder sibling who expressed, in her own way, a sense of rebellion against her mother's decision to care more for someone else's daughter than her own.

***

It was the start of a new day. The sun had shone brightly through the windows as early as six, rousing Billie from her slumber. She would usually manage to sleep through until at least nine, but the days were brighter earlier in the summer. But Billie's mother Susan was hardwired differently, somehow always managing to sleep through the light and warmth of the mornings, snuggled up with and spooning Robert.

The floorboards creaked as Billie moved through the hallway, making sure not to wake Clara or Tiffany. Especially Tiffany. Billie's stomach craved French toast and golden syrup and she knew Tiffany would've kept all the bread to herself and devoured it for a 'light' breakfast if already up. Luckily though, the odds were apparently in Billie's favour.

Down the stairs Billie went, pacing quickly through the kitchen, her mind already playing tricks on her with the smell of French toast wafting through the air, a smile forming across her face as she met the kitchen's threshold. But this smile wasn't to last.

Billie was so sure her sister Clara was still in bed, her door closed tightly, not a peep coming from beyond it. But there she stood at the kitchen island, her arms folded.

"Urgh, what are you doing up so early? I was hoping to beat you to some French toast," Billie commented.

"She got up first." Clara watched Tiffany sat on the stool chomp greedily on a quadruple-layered bacon sandwich. After what Clara just witnessed, they'd be lucky if anyone could throw stuff together to make even an improvised breakfast. "Didn't know where the bacon was, so woke me up to help her find it. She's gone through the entire packet by herself."

Billie's eyes widened in disbelief, though hoped deep down she could still make that French toast she craved. "There's bread there though, right?"

Clara scoffed. "Where do you think she got the bread for the sandwich from? There's none left."

"You're joking. Now what am I supposed to have?"

Clara couldn't stop herself from chuckling softly at her sibling. "Oh sure, just thinking about yourself, are you?"

Tiffany burped loudly, forcing her striated chest to ripple and expand outwards with a slight dose of growth. This, in turn, caused the evidently undersized top Clara had loaned her for sleeping in overnight to rip and burst like a pinata, exposing the teen's pecs to the two older siblings. Tiffany wiped her mouth. "Um...don't suppose you have any more food on the go, do you?"

Billie watched Clara begrudgingly help the teen find more food to eat. Sure, Tiffany was a guest in the house, but that didn't give her the right to eat the family out of house and home. Clara opened the cabinet where the soups and several pasta packets were stored. Clara was smart to think ahead by giving off the impression there was less food than there actually was. "There's a packet of pasta here. If you want, I can make that up for—"

"Great! I love pasta." Tiffany's shoulder only slightly nudged Clara's, but the surprising brute strength behind it still managed to push the comparatively taller girl aside. Tiffany spotted the five packets of pasta, grabbed them all and turned on the stove. "There's a lot of protein in it, you know."

Billie and Clara shared a realization, watching Tiffany start cooking the pasta: there was now literally no food left in the house.

At that point Susan entered the kitchen, her muscled calves laid bare under her dressing gown, her bed hair not that different from Billie's. "Morning girls. What's for breakfast today?"

Billie and Clara scoffed, rolling their eyes.

***

Susan watched. That was all she could bring herself to do, listening to Tiffany's grunts of effort as she pressed well over 5 times her own weight, her forehead and neck glistening and matted with sweat. Susan just couldn't understand how someone under a quarter her age could outperform her. Tiffany was no longer using, Susan knew, and yet the teen was performing as if she was.

"More weight!" Tiffany bellowed. She wanted to push her body to the absolute limit, the weight Susan had set up no longer enough to satisfy her. She was already pushing past the older woman's personal bests merely weeks after being taken up as a client. "Double, no, triple it!"

"Feeling that rush, are you?" Susan was impressed by Tiffany. It reminded her of her own dedication, dredging up memories spending days, even weeks in the gym before showing face to her family again, adding triple the original weight, bringing its new total to well over 100KGs. Even Susan couldn't handle that much at the same age. She watched the girl continue pressing, the machine now starting to groan in its effort to resist.

Only now did Tiffany feel challenged, the weight finally pushing back and resisting her brute strength. Her calves bulged outward, laiden with thick veins that twitched in tandem with her effort to drive the leg press forward. She huffed, grunted and winced, shedding tears over the unbearable pain. A pain she strangely chased after.

Tiffany stopped, resting her legs out to the side. She smiled, looking at how swollen and pumped they had become. There was no questioning it, with no need to compare: Tiffany's quads were now well over twice as large as Susan's. A distinctive vein ran up the length of both legs, thick and and twitching, as if full of energy.

"You know, back in your day, I bet it would've taken years to get quads big as these." Tiffany couldn't resist slapping her quads and shaking them, giggling like a schoolgirl as she watched them tense up into a flex and ripple. What the teen said was true. And yet Tiffany was able to surpass Susan in only a few weeks. "And to think I'm only sixteen, which means there's room left for growth, and lots of it."

Susan thought back to what Tiffany's mother Jackie said about who the father was. It was fairly certain he had to be someone with mesomorphic genes that were passed down to his daughter, but were clearly more extreme than they ought to be, and seemingly became more apparent as Tiffany matured.

There was more to Tiffany's father than what was being let on by Jackie.

"Tiffany, what do you know about your father?" Susan asked, keeping an eye on a teen's form as she went through bicep curls, the sleeves of her top tearing more and more with each rep.

"Not much. I know he and my mum had a fling before I was born."

"Yes, but what did you actually know about him?"

"I know he was a big guy. A bodybuilder like myself, if I remember correctly. My mum was a fan of his and used to attend his shows." Tiffany's focus had shifted somewhat, her mind now trailing off to memories of her mother sharing details about the teen's father. Tiffany wasn't sure why Susan had brought up the subject of her father, but it was clearly starting to affect the teen, the bicep curls now starting to come in at a slower pace. "She says he's a shiftless loafer, but I don't believe she means that."

"You ever thought about trying to find your dad? Or at least try to see what happened to him, since he dropped off?"

Tiffany re-racked the dumbbells, pulling her arms up into a double bicep pose, The sleeves of her top bursting to let her new pumped peaks pop out. She had thought about it, but for some reason was too afraid to ask, worried about what the answer would be. "I guess."

"If you'd like, we can bring the subject up with your mother the next time we talk."

That sounded like a good idea to Tiffany. But all her energy and focus presently was dedicated to the workout. Once that was over, the teen would take up Susan's offer. Tiffany's smile signed the deal.

Susan mirrored the teen's expression. "Alrighty then. But first, let's see about getting you some new, bigger clothes."

Tiffany chuckled.

***

"What about this? Think this suits me?" Angela presented a cute top for Trent to look at.

"Absolutely." Trent agreed. Yes, the cute top did, indeed, suit his mother, his mind already fashioning moments of her parading it around the house, their bodies pressing against one another as they would share yet another kiss, her hand groping his ever-larger sack.

Angela grabbed three tubs of protein powder from the shelf, stacking them at the front. Trent already had well over twenty of them stashed in his bedroom cupboard, but these tubs weren't for him. Angela daren't take from her darling son's stash. He looked at her with equal parts curiosity and concern.

"Are you absolutely sure you want to start working out now?"

Angela smiled. Her son's concern was touching, but she was persistent. "Don't worry, darling, I'll be fine," she answered, tenderly placing a hand over Trent's cheek.

Trent's mind regarding the present subject seemed to dissipate the moment his mother touched his cheek, but the other, far more prevalent problem started bubbling up from the back of his mind. "And what about Taylor? You still haven't told her about...us."

Angela was initially of the mind to tell Taylor the extent of their relationship, but— "She doesn't need to know about us. You can just break things off with her like a normal relationship."

"Really? After everything you went through to set things up?"

"Yes. After all.."Angela put a hand to her belly. "...I have you now."

Trent could tell from his mother's tone that she was starting to get turned on, looking at the thick pecs housed within the tight and slightly torn blue shirt, his shameless near-constant erection poking from his trousers. It didn't take much for Angela to grope his bulge as she bit her lip. They each inched closer to one another, readying to kiss—

Angela pulled away, moving the trolley further down the aisle, looking at the other fitness-oriented foodstuffs. Trent was disappointed in his mother choosing not to embrace their kiss, but he should've known her to be a tease by now, especially with that tight ass of hers in those jeans. "While we're in this aisle though, I ought to get you some stuff. I want to ramp everything up. Your calorie intake, your steroid and Trazo dosage — everything. Of course, I'll be sharing in the steroids and such too."

"Mum, I don't think that's—"

"What, safe?" Angela was surprised by her son's attitude towards the situation as she tossed several boxes of protein bars into the trolley. "Sweetie, we're a mother and son who fuck each other on a daily basis. I hardly think 'safe' is part of our vocabulary."

Trent just wasn't sure. He'd likely have felt different if his mother was a bit younger, but the reality was jarring, to say the least, taking the pregnancy into account. "I just don't know."

"You say that now, but no doubt when my body starts changing — growing more muscular — you'll feel differently about it. Now come with me to the changing rooms, I want to try this new lace top on now."

***

Trent had been only been waiting outside the changing for a little over five minutes, but to him it felt like hours. He checked his watch, huffing as the time read two thirty. On a normal day Trent would've been back at his gym at this time, either finishing yet another set or managing the finances, both official and unofficial.

"Come on! How long does it take to put on a top?" he queried in annoyance, picking up shuffling from behind the curtain at his back, his mother clearly nowhere near ready.

Angela chuckled. "Patience. It'll be worth it."

Trent was dubious to believe his mother. They both knew he would just rip it clean off her chest the moment they'd start fucking again, whenever that was. He checked his phone. A text from Taylor had come through at some point asking where he was, which Trent was in no particular rush to answer.

The shuffling behind the curtain stopped, followed by silence. Trent put his ear to the curtain. "You ready then?"

Trent didn't expect to get yanked into the changing room, his mother's gentle hand grabbing him by the shirt, stumbling forward with a grunt. By the time he'd reasserted his footing and vision, he was presented with his mother's naked body, smiling at him as she moved closer, a hand brushing his bulge,her pregnancy reflecting in the mirror.

Angela was, indeed, ready, unbuckling Trent's belt.

It didn't take much for him to embrace the moment, feeling his mother's mouth engulf the full length of his shaft, her hands pushing his muscled ass in to push him in closer, therefore taking more of him in her waiting maw. The gagging was deliberate of course.

Trent grunted, his face twitching in an erotic spasm as he felt his mother's tongue brush his shaft, her dotting eyes staring up cutely at her Greek god of a son, watching him unbutton and remove his shirt, thus revealing his chiseled abs and striated pecs, which he invitingly bounced to entice his mother further. Her arousal heightened at this display, unintentionally biting down hard on Trent's cock, but he didn't even feel the pressure, nor pain.

Angela pulled away and turned to present her ass to Trent. His cock had been lathered enough by her saliva to allow for easier insertion into her ass, which came quickly as Trent pushed deep into it with no warning, grunting and growling beastly. Angela giggled, cupping her hand over his cheek. "Ooooh, someone's feisty today."

Trent and Angela both knew they shouldn't have been having sex so blatantly in a public space, but they didn't care. Their collective rush of emotions blinded them, distorting their senses and only taking in one another's grunts and moans as Trent's thrusts came rhythmically.

Sex in a public space was risky...but thrilling.

***

Billie wasn't entirely sure if this was the right idea. Sure, she'd let it simmer in the back of her head for a couple of days, but even after then she felt a sense of resistance. Billie argued this was comeuppance for the individual this was aimed towards, the only way she'd really be noticed by them, as hurtful as it felt. She'd never been in a proper gym before, those swarmed by vain meat-heads and HGH-fuelled roid monsters who'd spend more time eye-fucking their own reflections than anything. It was a sweat-stenched iron jungle of uncertainty and throbbing meat, and yet the only place Billie could go.