Field Trip Follies Ch 08

Notes

This is the eighth installment of Field Trip Follies. Thanks to Literotica author Laurie for lending me her characters Lindsey Foster and her sister Katie. And also thanks to Laurie for all her editing help and advice! She particularly helped me to understand working out and weight lifting, which is a good thing, because I'm sedentary and fat!

In this chapter, we're back again with Lindsey. You do not need to read any of the other chapters to enjoy this. It's a nicely self-contained story.

All characters in this story are over the age of 18!

DAY 4 – 4:42 A.M.

PASADENA, CALIFORNIA

DECEMBER 31 – NEW YEAR'S EVE

Lindsey woke up needing to pee. The candles had all burned out, and Farinella was snoring softly and spooning Katie. Lindsey checked the clock... it was 4:42am.

As Lindsey sat on the toilet, the previous night came back to her... like a weird, erotic nightmare. But she knew it wasn't a dream. She'd done filthy things with her little sister... willingly... lustfully... pushing farther past the sister barrier than she'd ever gone before. Oh, they'd done a few inappropriate things in the past, but always when they were coked up or drunk off their asses... usually both. But last night they'd been more or less sober. They didn't have any excuse.

I can't believe myself... I made out with my sister there at the end.

Lindsey's face burned with shame and embarrassment... primarily because it had been hot as shit.

Oh, god... this is bad. So fucking bad....

She felt dirty... both figuratively and literally. She hadn't showered since the night before last. Subsequently she'd had sex with five different people.

I fucking ate my sister's pussy... oh god.... She

felt sticky with sweat and cum. She needed a shower, but she didn't want to wake Katie up. She wasn't ready to face her... not yet.

She quietly dressed in her workout clothes, tip-toed out into the hall, and headed for the hotel gym. It was still pretty early; she thought she'd have the place to herself for a nice long run on the treadmill, followed by a hot shower. But when she opened the door she heard the clinking sound of weights.

It was a huge hotel, so it could have been anybody... but it wasn't. It was Gary Blunt.

He was on his back, doing bench presses.

Fuck. What is he doing here at this hour?

She wasn't in the mood to spar with Gary, so she considered back to bed... but then she noticed that he had three 45-pound weights on either side of the bar

. That's 315 pounds!

In Lindsey's gym, the only guys who could bench press that much were the hard-core body-builders.

Holy shit. Gary told me that he was strong... but fuck! This is ridiculous!

Gary was wearing the same baggy clothes and bulky hoodie that he always wore, so she couldn't see his body. But the muscles in his neck and face stood out with freakish definition as he powerfully lowered the bar down to his barrel chest

. Oh shit... is Gary a body-builder? I knew he had muscles, but that weight's ridiculous!

His teeth clenched and his face turned red as he hissed, throwing the weights up in one powerful lurch. She watched in fascination as Gary did six more reps, each time growing weaker, but straining harder to maintain the pace. She was impressed by the determination of his attack. He began to roar with each press, his face contorting into a mask of fury. The power he was exuding was almost frightening to behold.

Then on the last rep, he couldn't straighten his arms completely. They started to quake and shake like crazy. Lindsey was afraid he was about to lose control. If that happened, the bar could fall and break his collarbone. It could even crush his larynx if it came down wrong.

Lindsey ran over and grabbed the bar and hoisted it with all her might, which was just enough to tip the balance. Gary looked up in surprise, as she helped him hook the bar into the chocks. His massive arms collapsed limply to his side and he let out an explosive gasp. His face was beet red from the effort.

He said, in his weirdly high voice, "Thanks, Mrs. Foster...

wheeze

... but...

wheeze

... I had it...

wheeze

..."

"Shit, Gary, you're not supposed to bench press without a spotter. Don't you know that?"

"Don't worry...

wheeze

... I do it all the....

wheeze

... time."

"That's 315 pounds! You don't fuck around with that kind of weight. How many reps did you do?"

"That was...

wheeze

... supposed to be my fourth set...

wheeze

... of ten reps."

"Holy shit... that's fucking amazing."

Gary smiled his ugly smile, "I almost made it too."

"You almost crushed your larynx you mean. It's a good thing I woke up needing to pee, or I'd still be in bed, and you'd be dead."

"No, I almost had it. I usually do more reps than this. I'm just out of shape from sitting on the freakin' bus." Gary sat up, and slapped his biceps with his palms. They were nice and hard, the way he liked them after a good workout... pumped full of blood.

Lindsey recognizing the characteristic arm slapping of a hardcore workout junkie.

Yeah, Gary's chasing the pump.

She laughed, "Sitting on your ass for a couple of days can leave you feeling like an overcooked noodle. I feel like crap if I miss my morning run for too many days in a row."

"Yeah? The treadmills are over there."

Gary sounded annoyed. Lindsey suspected he was embarrassed.

I bet he hates the fact that he needed me to rescue him... but maybe not... fuck, it's so hard to read that kid.

"Well, don't let me interrupt your workout, Mr. Shwarzenegger." She walked over to the treadmill and started running, ramping it up to a nice brisk trot. The wall was decorated with little diamond-shaped mirrors, so she watched Gary as he went from machine to machine, doing different exercises for upper body, each time with the same kind of crazy intensity as he'd attacked the bench press. Since he wasn't working his legs, she assumed he was working different muscle groups on alternating days.

He takes this thing serious.

She was growing more and more curious about what he was hiding under those baggy clothes. And she couldn't help but notice his beady eyes were peering hungrily at her from under those Cro-Magnon eyebrows of his. She thought he was an ugly creep, but she found herself feeling oddly flattered.

Gary knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn't help himself. He'd never seen Mrs. Foster dressed in such a skimpy outfit before. She was wearing nothing but running shoes, tight little white shorts and a gray sports bra. She was a fine looking woman... small and thin, with a girlish figure and well-toned muscles. Her long, dark hair was swinging beautifully two and fro as she jogged, and her perky little breasts were bouncing playfully. He watched with growing interest as her nipples hardened with the excitement of exercise.

Gary worked his way toward the cable cross-over machine, because it was the closest one to her treadmill. He sat on a bench and set the cables to do bicep curls. From this position he had a perfect view of her ass from just a few feet away.

Damn... she's fine.

He was impressed with her stamina. She was maintaining a steady pace without any difficulty. As strong as he was, he would have crapped out by now. She wasn't even breathing hard, but she did start perspiring. Beads of shimmering sweat rolled down the creamy brown flesh on the small of her back, and began to darken her shorts in the tight crack between her jiggling buttocks. He could also just barely see the tight little mound of her pussy between her slim, muscular legs.

Fuck... I can see Mrs. Foster's cameltoe!

His cock stirred mightily in his baggy sweatpants.

He suddenly noticed that she was looking back at him in a diamond-shaped mirror on the wall, a broad grin on her adorable face. He blushed, realizing that she'd probably seen him staring at her ass the whole time. He looked down in shame.

She called me a creep yesterday, and I guess she's right. I am a creep.

Lindsey thought it was pretty odd that Gary hadn't asked about her date with Laurie Bonner yet. He just stared at her with his maddeningly impassive lump of a face.

What's he waiting for? The suspense has got to be killing him.

She slowed the pace to a jog and said, "I had my date with Laurie last night."

He asked lazily, "Yeah? How did that go?" As if it were the last thing on his mind.

She giggled and thought about telling him how she and Laurie had fucked an Asian waiter in a private booth in a lounge style bar, but decided to keep that little detail to herself

.

"Oh, we just chatted... got to know each other. Girl stuff, y'know? In fact, we really hit it off. And eventually... we talked about you." She paused, testing his interest.

After a long pause, Gary broke the silence. "Yeah? What did you say?"

Lindsey giggled, proud of winning that little battle. "Well, I lied and told her you're a real nice guy... that we're good friends, even. And then I said that I like you so much that I'm gonna take your virginity tonight after Bandfest."

He froze, mid-rep. "You... what?"

Lindsey giggled. "I told her I'm gonna fuck you... tonight. And then I invited her to join us."

"You... you... you..?"

"And she said yes."

The cable-grips slipped out of Gary's hands and the weights fell down with a loud, rattling clash. He stammered, "Wh...what?"

Lindsey was taken aback by the look of dismay on Gary's usually impassive face. "Laurie said yes. She wants to help me take your virginity." Gary looked terrified.

"Really? But..."

"But what? That was the plan, wasn't it? Happy birthday, Gary."

Gary felt like he was falling down a well. He hadn't slept a wink all night. His mind had been crazily zigzagging between lust, logic and fear, as he relived every detail of the day... how he'd caught Mrs. Foster fucking Willie Jones on the bus... and how fucking insanely hot that was, blinding him with lust... then how he'd gotten even more blind with lust as he watched Laurie Bonner and her hot friends doing their sexy flag-spinning routine... then how he boldly blackmailed Mrs. Foster... ordering her to procure Laurie for him, as if she were some kind of pimp, and Laurie were some kind of whore... and Laurie was just any girl. She was an incredible mega-hottie... way out of his league... but somehow he'd convinced himself it was a logical, workable plan! At about 3am he came to the agonizing realization that it was the stupidest idea he'd ever come up with in his life. He was embarrassed for himself. He must have been delusional to think that beautiful women like Laurie Bonner and Mrs. Foster would ever, in a zillion years, drop their drawers for a hulking creep like him.

When he'd finally realized that his crazy plan was never going to happen, a strange thing happened. Instead of feeling sad, he'd felt relived. Massively relieved, as if he'd dodged a bullet.

But now... that bullet was striking home!

Mrs. Foster did it... she actually did it! Oh fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck!

He cleared his throat, and he nervously squawked, "I was... I was thinking... maybe we should... you know... wait till some other time... I have the parade tomorrow morning and... uh... I shouldn't be staying up late tonight... and..."

"I can't believe it... you're chickening out!"

Gary flashed with anger, "I am not! This is just a terrible time to... you know... fuck around. I take the band seriously. This is no time to... make... uh... decisions that... uh... fuck! Maybe... tomorrow instead? After the parade?"

"She'll be heading home after the parade. No. Tonight is the night, Gary. It's now or never. Hey, I'll be happy to take your virginity some other time if you prefer. Unless... you're having second thoughts about that too?"

Mrs. Foster was smiling at him in the mirror... her dark, doll-like eyes staring right into his... daring him to put up or shut up. His huge, healthy heart was pounding against the inside of his ribcage, trying desperately to escape. He knew, right then and there, that he couldn't go through with his own stupid plan.

I'm such an idiot. I'm not ready for this... not ready at all!

Lindsey could see that Gary had lost his nerve completely. Yesterday she'd been hoping something like this would happen... but to her surprise, she didn't feel happy... she felt sad. She realized with shock that she was looking forward to it. And it wasn't just that she wanted to play with Laurie Bonner again... she was growing more and more interested in Gary Blunt.

She'd never fucked an actual body builder before. Her husband was the most muscle-bound man she'd ever been with, but he'd never benched 315 pounds in his life. Compared to Gary, Mark was an 83 pound weakling.

Suddenly, against her own better judgment, Lindsey decided to talk Gary into going through with the very plan she'd tried so hard to talk him out of.

"This is no time to lose heart, Gary. That beautiful, sweet girl is gonna take your cherry, and after that, she and I are gonna fuck you senseless. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah... sure... I just..."

"You just... what? I can't believe it. You're scared, aren't you? A big guy like you? What have you got to be scared of? Two naked girls, crawling all over you?"

He suddenly shouted, "Stop it! Stop fucking with me! You won't do it and neither will she! When you see what I really look like, you'll both run for the hills!" He buried his face in his hands and roared in fury.

Lindsey was shocked by Gary's wild reaction. She stopped the treadmill and quietly sat down on the bench next to him. After a minute of watching him quake with emotion, she softly put her arm around him.

"Gary... look... yesterday, you acted like a total asshole. I would have done anything to get out of that greedy, perverted plan of yours. But... well... I guess I've changed my mind. I think we should go for it!"

Gary grunted, and said softly, "Stop it. Just stop. Let's forget about the whole thing. I'm letting you off the hook. And don't worry... I won't tell anybody about you and Willie."

Lindsey was touched by his incredible vulnerability. She affectionately ran her hands up and down his back... her fingers running over the rippling muscles. "Please Gary. Don't call it off. Let's just get together with Laurie and see what happens. Sure, its possible she won't be all that into you... but you should at least give it a shot." She lost her train of thought, as her hands explored the insane musculature on Gary's back. "Damn... I can't believe how fucking ripped you are!"

She put her left hand on his bicep, and squeezed it, feeling almost no give at all. "My god, you feel like you're made out stone, Gary! Why do you keep yourself hidden away under all these baggy clothes?"

He shrugged.

"You don't want anybody to know you're a body builder, do you? That's why you're down here, working out at 4 in the morning."

He nodded slightly.

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"I'm crazy... mentally ill."

"You're... what?"

He blurted, with emotion, "I have body dysmorphia. I'm... I'm obsessively trying to change my body into something else... something horrible."

"Where the fuck did you get that idea?"

"My mother read all about body dysmorphia in a magazine. I tried to stop... but I just couldn't. A few months ago she finally talked my dad into locking the weight room so I couldn't get in. I was spending every free hour in there. She thought that would stop me, but I've been sneaking into school late at night after the janitors leave... to use the gym. I'm crazy, Mrs. Foster... I'm a junkie."

"Fuck... Gary... when did you start body-building?"

"I guess... well, I found a muscle magazine in my aunt's closet when I was four, and it just... I don't know... intrigued me. I started using my dad's weight room. Him and Mom were supportive at first, but four years ago I really started to bulk up, and my mom started freaking out. You wouldn't believe what I've done to my body. I look like freak."

"I want to see."

"No, I..."

She put her hand firmly on his forearm, looked him in the eye, and said, firmly. "Let me see."

Mrs. Foster's voice was so commanding... Gary had no choice but to obey. That's what comes from growing up the son of a Naval commander. Gary stood, looking dejectedly at the floor, and took off his hoodie, then peeled up his heavy sweatshirt, then the t-shirt underneath.

Lindsey gasped. Her husband was ripped, but he, at least, looked human. Gary looked like a monster. His muscles were so massive and bulked up, they were almost unreal. His biceps had to be 20 inches around, at least. She couldn't see his pecs or abs, though, because his torso was covered with a tangle of bushy black body-hair, running up out of his pants, and spreading out thickly over his massive chest. His arms and shoulders were a bit less hairy, so she could see their stunning muscle complexity and definition. He was every bit as ripped as any bodybuilder she'd ever seen working out at the gym, if not more. She found his hairy, bulky body weirdly repulsive. But as bizarre as he looked, she couldn't take her eyes off the Gary Blunt freak show.

"Flex for me, Gary."

"Flex?"

"Don't be coy. I bet you flex at home in front of the mirror. Give me your best pose."

He looked at her with a searching expression for a few moments, then he raised his arms to the side and flexed. His entire torso bulged as if he were being inflated from the inside. Every muscle expanded, turning rock hard. The tiniest details of musculature transferred clearly through his pale skin, and the veins on his arms popped out like the roots of a tree. Lindsey felt a sudden, unexpected rush of lust. She'd never been all that interested in body builders. But suddenly... she wanted to know what it was like to fuck one.

She stepped up to him and ran her hands all over his arms, feeling the raw power throbbing inside. "Holy, shit... Gary. Holy shit." She bit her lip as she rubbed her fingertips over the bulging veins in his bicep, feeling his blood pumping powerfully under the palm of her hand.

Gary was stunned by the lustful expression on Mrs. Foster's face. He thought for sure she was going to tell him to put his shirt back on... but she was touching him! Her soft brown hands were sensuously running over his flesh... tickling his body hair... sending tingles down his spine, making his balls retract, and his cock jump to life. It was incredible. His mother had just about convinced him that women found muscles like this disgusting. But Mrs. Foster didn't look disgusted. She didn't look disgusted at all. He smiled, and rotated his arm into a different position.

Lindsey gasped as she felt his incredible muscles moving around under her fingers. They felt like they were carved from stone, but they moved around under his skin with sinewy power. "Shit, Gary," she moaned, almost swooning with lust. She ran her hands through the thick, sweaty fur on his belly, feeling the rippling abdominals underneath. They felt like coiled steel cables. "Oh. My. God." Her hands went up to his massive pectorals.

Fuck! His tits are bigger than mine are... and as hard as boulders!

"Holy mother of god, Gary... you're a fucking beast!"

He deflated, lowering his arms dejectedly. "That's what my mom says... a beast. A big ugly beast."

She smiled and took his cheeks in her hands. "That's not how I meant it. You're an amazing, beautiful beast! Your mother, with all due respect, is a total, fucking idiot. You're not mentally ill. You're an athlete. You should be proud of what you've accomplished. My God... you should show yourself to the world. You should do muscle shows!"