I remember Andy asking me, "Why are you hanging out with the little runt, Bennie?" And I assumed Andy was talking, at that time, about me making bad choices because I had been doing reps with Bennie on the bench and then dead lifts and coaching Bennie to push himself, and he could do better and stick it out, and then Bennie did. He dead lifted 150 pounds. Congratulations little man.
And now I was sitting and stretching my legs spread eagle in Bennie's living room, drinking his beer, listening to his stereo and also hearing Bennie's squeaky chatter in the background, but all the focus was on Bennie's wife, Clarissa, who was organizing books on a shelf pretending she was doing her own thing.
The tension was not mine alone. I saw how she cast a side glance like she didn't see me, and she squatted and looked at me in the reflection of the glass panel. Then she straightened her legs while still bent at the waist, presenting that beautiful butt with her legs split for my view.
So, Andy, if you want to know why, that's why! I had answered Andy there in the gym, "Looks stupid, doesn't it? Me hanging out with the little runt, helping each other put weights on the bar, spotting each other as much as he could spot anyone, trading pointers. Have you seen his wife, Clarissa?"
"Clarissa?" Andy repeated. "Is that the one with the ponytail and the little pink wrist bands, and she does a lot of the jazzercise or whatever that dance stuff is in the back?"
"No, I'm not sure who you're talking about there. Clarissa is the tall blonde, I think she's taller than Bennie. Go figure. And she's not a natural blonde but she frosts the top layer of her hair. You might catch her once or twice a week. She's not here that often. Usually she's on the stair stepper or she likes to hang out on the leg machines over there talking to Kyle. Do you know Kyle?"
"No, can't say I do."
It was the briefest thing, when Clarissa turned her head, still bent to show me her ass, and she looked under her arm at me to make sure I was watching. Her facial features were not refined or delicate but pleasantly plump and her skin was smooth. She left her books on the shelf and strutted into the kitchen.
When she came out of the kitchen I set down my beer on the side and stretched for my toes but I gave a low groan, almost a growl. I said to her, "Clarissa, babe, what I really need is a partner to help me stretch, you know to put their feet on my thighs and push my legs wider."
Clarissa walked over right next to me and pushed her hip out creating a luscious S curve to her frame with big tits hanging almost literally over my head. She asked, "You feel like you should have a girlfriend? You don't have a girlfriend?"
"No, I'm a lone wolf," I told her. "Probably the right girlfriend would keep me in line, straighten out my chi and all that."
"It's not everything in the world," she smirked.
Cha-ching. Bennie dropped his face and looked at the floor like his woman just kicked him in the nuts in front of his new buddy.
Bennie had finished his bench press, 140 pounds. Most unimpressive. I had to grab the bar from him and move it to the rack to be sure Bennie didn't drop it on his head. Bennie stayed laying back on the bench with his hands on his face in exhaustion. When he relented I reached a hand and pulled him to standing.
Bennie said, "You really help my game. I mean, I can feel myself getting stronger and lifting more weight because you push me. By the time I'm done my workout, I'm spent but inside I'm psyched up and like I can tackle anything."
"That's how the physical routine should fit into your life," I directed him. "Sometimes you take a step forward in your workout and it helps your job performance, or you learn in your relationship and it'll seem like a step back but it motivates your workout. No pain, no gain, right?"
"That bouncing can rip your ligaments," Clarissa interrupted me. I regained my focus to those luscious knockers above me. Bouncing. That was a good word for it. She said, "When you have someone pushing your legs, it can rip you the same way if you go too hard or too fast."
"You know how to do it right, though, like going slowly with the right pressure?"
Clarissa twitched her lips. Stepping behind me, she squatted, placing her hands on my shoulders. "Yes, slowly like this." She pushed my shoulders to propel my back forward and stretch my legs, but slowly, letting the burn simmer in my tendons.
"Did you go to the kitchen for a beer?" I asked her.
"No, do you need one?" She lifted my can and shook it to ascertain there was still half.
"I thought for yourself," I said.
"You've got enough here for the two of us," she answered, and took a swig of my beer.
I wished I could have seen her face behind me and how she relished the taste. Instead I had to endure Bennie's simpering grievance.
Andy had asked me, "When you say she hangs out with Kyle, is he one of these steroid meatheads where women try to close their fingers around the biceps or his thigh?"
"No, he's not especially pumped. But he told me he fucked her."
"He fucked Clarissa?"
"Yeah, he said she was a great piece of ass and knows how to move around and shit."
"Does that make you want her? Dip your wick in the sticky cum bucket?"
"That's very disrespectful. If she's comfortable and assertive, then more power to her. Yeah, I'd tap that all day. In fact, I'm going to tap that. You'll see."
Clarissa gave me another push on the shoulders. "Uhhh," she groaned. "You are tight. Probably too much power lifting. You guys with all the muscles forget to extend through the full range of motion. You probably can't even do a sit up, right?"
"No, you've got that all wrong. Do you want to make a bet?"
"OK, let's see you do 30 sit-ups in one minute. And what do I win?"
"What do you want?"
"I won't be too hard on you. You can clean the dirty dishes in the sink."
I had to laugh. Some women get a kick from making men do the menial chores. Like they're going to feminize you. I bet Bennie does a lot of toilet cleaning.
I told her, "OK, I won't be too hard on you either. If I win, then you have to come down in my split stretch and help me."
"You're on. I'll bring the clock over and you can see it's legit."
Clarissa fetched her watch from the bedroom and laid it on the carpet next to me. She said, "You start yourself when the second hand reaches the 12."
"Legs bent or flat?"
"Your choice."
When the second hand hit the 12, I had my knees bent and set to my sit-ups quickly. Hitting 30 sit-ups is not difficult, but I banged out 20 sit-ups in twenty seconds and Clarissa had a wry smile as the result sunk in.
She said, "OK, you won that round." She sat down in a split before me, untied her sneaks and removed her socks, and pressed her bare feet into my calves to push my legs wider. Her toes crinkled on my muscles to tickle. I reached for her hands and leaned back to pull her towards me.
When Kyle was on the leg press, Clarissa showed off her athleticism by kicking her foot up over her head and setting it on the weight stack. That brought her crotch near his face and she pulsed in her stretch, pulsing her pussy right at his face. She didn't mind bouncing then. I heard her say something like see if you can lift that, or swing that and laughing but unrelenting. I could only imagine, as I saw from behind, how her pussy lips might look in that stretchy leotard and without underwear as far I could tell.
