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Related article: Eleven-and-a-half: A Fantasy Of Great Length by Ray WilderChapter 49: PattyThis is a work of fiction. All the characters, events and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, events or locations is purely coincidental.Copyright � 1996. All rights, implicit or implied, except for distribution by this archive and personal use by the individual downloading the file, are reserved. Inquiries regarding publishing rights for this book should be directed to: raywildaol.com======================================== It hadn't been half as bad as she had thought it would be. But it was a million times worse than it should have been. Patty had said her peace to her sister, laid out what she thought of her getting involved again with a guy who had dumped her years ago with a kid. She ran down a quick list of the things she was fucking up by doing it and finished with Bob. She then had been very honest and open about her own feelings for her sister's husband and what she hoped would be the outcome of all this. It was at that point her sister had broken down, fallen against the front of Patty's car and began screaming and crying, kicking and swearing. She then launched herself against Patty, all ten nails bared and ready to rip skin. Patty calmly grabbed her sister's wrists, slowly forced her to her knees before her on the driveway and then kneeled down to face her. "You don't have a prayer against me. Not with your stupid fingernails, not with your husband, and not with your kids. I suggest you do something right for once in your life, get your ass in the house, talk this out with Bob, make your move clean and quick and let the innocent get on with their lives." "You cunt. How dare you tell me what to do. You don't have the slightest idea what this is all about." "It's about people, honey. That much I know. It's time you started thinking about someone else besides yourself. The day you started making babies, that was the day you should have realized there was more in the world besides your own insecure need to force a man to take care of you by getting pregnant. You've been blowing off men and babies ever since. Well, Betty, times up. And, surprise. You've got a family to support. Bob's got a plan. Go talk with him about it. Or better yet, go and just listen to what he has to say and then do it because if you Russian Lolita don't, things are going to get real ugly for you and Bob and the kids. And if you have any thoughts about blowing off the kids, just remember how fucked up you are now. Because that's how fucked up your kids are going to be. Just like we were. Just like us." Her last three words were each driven home by a sharp, painful jab of Patty's forefinger to the area of Betty's left shoulder. Betty crumpled in a sobbing heap against the door of the car. Patty's admonitions washed over her like a tidal wave, leaving nothing but searing truth in its wake. Patty almost felt sorry enough for her to give her a reassuring little hug, but decided it would seem condescending. She helped Betty to her feet, turned her around and pushed her towards the front door. Betty went back inside without turning around to see her sister back out of the driveway and disappear around the corner. Patty forced herself not to stop at the intersection to see if Betty was heeding her suggestion or not. She headed through the subdivision and made it out onto the freeway north. After several exits she pulled off at a gas station/grocery store and bought a soda just to have something to do. She was feeling very confused and needed to distract her attention from the storm brewing on her horizon. Her head was flooded with flashes and images of the present, past and future; none of which seemed to add up to anything she could make sense of. Her relationship with her sister had always had an adversarial quality to it; both of them constantly jealous of what the other had. Was her seduction of/by Bob just one more aberration of that rivalry? She doubted it, simply because she could not recollect having any desires for Bob before today. At least none that she was conscious of. Of course she liked him. He had always been so nice to her. They had always been very straightforward with each other. At least she had thought so. How could she have been so blind. Had she just denied what had been so obvious because he was married to her sister? "That's Betty's husband. He can't be looking at me like that. He can't be thinking those thoughts. He only wants to see my body to admire the work I've put into it, to inspire himself in his own efforts." And what efforts. He was so hard. So cut up. So defined. So very, very hard. Her sister was an idiot. How could she not want to have him? Just the thought of his sleek, sinewy body pumping against hers, ramming his hot, hard cock deep within her, sent an overwhelming wave of energy screaming through her body, from her cunt outwards to the very tips of her fingers and toes. How fast. How powerful. How intense. She had been his fantasy, just as her new neighbor hovered on the horizon of her own sexual dreams. And then there was that. She had been all set to get herself involved with that amazing hunk of sexuality, had been obsessing on it all day long. And now, here was this other man, someone she cared very much about. Peter. No. Bob. Oh, shit. Peter. What the hell was Russian Lolita she going to do about him? Had she ever made such a fool of herself? There she was, trying to seduce a gay man. But he had been so sexy, so open, so. . . there. Was that it? Had he just been "there" after she had come under the spell of Arnold's eleven-and-a-half inch cock? That might be part of it, but there had been something else going on there, as well. Perhaps he had been subject to the same enchantment. She certainly hadn't forced him. He truly had enjoyed himself, up to a point. And the fact that he couldn't cum had made it all the more poignant. Her mothering instincts had definitely kicked in. Mama Patty was going to make everything all right. Just like with Bob. This was getting crazy. There was no sense beating herself up about any of this. It had all happened, no one had held a gun to anyone's head. No one was hurt who hadn't already set themselves up for it (i.e.: Betty). And there were no secrets. That was the best part. She had done her best to be as honest as possible about this whole thing. And of course, that made everything okay, right? Hah. But there was that, at least. The bottle of soda had been drained long ago. She tossed the empty in the recycling bin and walked back to her car. She was suddenly very tired and very angry. So much had happened today there seemed no way to get a handle on it. As she was reaching for the car door handle a loud, flashy car squealed its tires as it pulled around the side of the store. The driver honked the horn and shouted some indistinguishable but obviously lewd comment at her as he drove by. She flipped him the bird, wishing she still had the recently discarded soda bottle. Wonderful images of the glass breaking against the rear quarter panel and screwing up the obviously expensive paint job popped across her inner eye. As she dropped her hand to her side she felt even more angry as the futility of her revenge occurred to her. Just one more thing in her life she didn't seem to have any control over. So. Here she was. She had driven all the way down the coast to spend the night at her sister's house and now she didn't even have that. No bed, no dinner, no sister. There was little doubt in her mind she had seen her sister for the last time. At least for quite a while. She thought about how that made her feel and got mad again because she didn't feel mad. Her only living kin and she couldn't even feel mad about not seeing her again. There was a plethora of bad road food to choose from at this exit, nothing came close to seeming appealing. Her stomach rumbled a bit so she went back into the store and bought a bag of corn chips. That would at least get her to a decent meal. As she was heading back out to her car she heard the squeal of tires and the gunning of engine and knew what would come rounding the corner of the building. As the amazingly obnoxious vehicle came into view it slammed on the brakes and the driver, a large, slimy looking man about her own age and height but almost twice her body weight jumped out of the car even before the vehicle had finished rocking to a stop. Patty could see there was at least one other occupant in the front seat, the back seat was obscured by the heavy tinting which covered all the windows. The sound system in the car was blasting away. The bass speakers unnaturally boosted; her stomach felt the impact of each stomp of the kick drum. For a moment the man leaned against the side of his car, running his equally slimy gaze over her body. Patty did the same, and made no effort to hide her disgust at what she saw. For some inexplicable reason the man interpreted her obvious repulsion as some sort of invitation and waddled his way towards her. Patty had no idea what she could do that wouldn't generate some sort of confrontation; the jerk didn't seem to have very good social interpretive skills. And she, herself, had just about enough encountering to last her for a long, long time. She turned on her heels and headed back to the store. As she was about to reach for the door she felt a large, moist hand grab her upper arm. She froze. Her gaze slowly dropped to the hand and then followed it up the arm and to the gaze of the man holding her. Having already appraised the physical aspects of her assailant, she had little doubt that she could do him major bodily harm with little effort on her part. The fact that he had been dumb enough to initiate contact told her he was a bigger fool than he was big. The hand was fleshy and soft, as was his face. The eyes were imbedded deep in flesh that lay in folds around them. She wondered if anyone in the store was watching what was going on, in case she needed witnesses. Again, her look of disgust seemed to be misinterpreted and he began to pull her towards him. She held her ground and began to slowly flex her arm, causing her huge bicep to swell beneath the man's grip. At first he squeezed harder, but as the muscles continued to expand well past what he expected his grip slowly released and it dropped to his side. A voice from inside the car yelled something which Patty could not understand and he waved his hand behind him to silence his partner. He smiled at Patty with what he obviously hoped was disarming grace. The yellow of his nicotine stained teeth glowed oddly in the sodium vapor lights of the parking lot. Was there a woman in the world who would enjoy having this man's attentions wallowed on her? Patty doubted it. But still he persisted. She had hoped she would not have to resort to actually speaking with this slob, but he just wasn't getting the message. "There is nothing, and I mean nothing, you have to offer which would have the remotest chance of lowering the level of disgust and revulsion I am feeling right now. I suggest you go back to the car and tell your friends that I'm a man in drag so you don't loose face and then get the fuck out of my sight before you make me puke all over you." "�Que?" Fuck! Her best put down in years, wasted. Now what? The man continued to smile, waiting for her to what. . .translate? No such luck, compadre. She wondered what her award winning put down would sound like in Spanish. She also wondered if her assailant was faking it. She didn't want to get to know him that well. She was about to reconsider her options when she saw a patrol car pull into the lot. It parked at the side of the building and the driver got out. It was a woman. She was nearly as tall as Patty and it was obvious that she was a bodybuilder, herself. Her thick, black hair was pulled back into a tight bun leaving her wide, oval face open for view. Her deep eyes were moving quickly back and forth, assessing the situation and her body language was shouting that she was not one to be messed around with. She came over to Patty and asked her if she needed any help. "We seem to have a little language problem here." The officer turned her attention to the man who had backed off several paces as she had approached. She seemed to choose her words carefully and spoke them extremely slow, as if she was not very familiar with the language. It had the desired affect, though. The man said something to the officer, nodded his head in Patty's direction, said something which sounded apologetic and returned to his car. Patty and the officer watched the car pull out of the parking lot and drive away down the road. "You okay?" "Fine. Russian Lolita Your timing is impeccable." "We got a call from someone inside the store. I was just getting on the freeway at the next exit south. This isn't the first time this particular individual has tried to assault women at this location. Looks to me like he picked the wrong victim this time, though." "I would have had an easier time if I'd been able to communicate with him. It's lucky you speak the lingo." "Comes with the territory. You just passing through?" "Yeah." "You're name is Patty, isn't it?" "Yeah." "I went up against you at the South Coast Regionals last year. Name's June." "Right. I remember you. You got best newcomer. You still in the biz?" "Yep. Got even more committed after that contest. When I saw all those winning bodies, I got real fired up." "Winning bodies. Right." "You got screwed." "No shit. I haven't felt that bad until just a few minutes ago. Did you sign the petition for all women judges?" "You bet. It's about time we started taking charge of our own contests. Men have been dictating how our bodies should look long enough." "So how's your training going?" "I'm coming along. Still not quite up to your standards, but I'm happy with my progress. How about you?" "I decided not to compete anymore. The whole experience made me feel kind of filthy. I'm happy just maintaining my body and running the gym." "The Pump House, right?" "Yeah. You ever make it up that way, you should stop in. Most people find it a fairly unique experience." "I've also heard that I shouldn't be seen hanging with all the renegades if I'm serious about competing." "The outcasts of the outcasts. Do what you gotta do." "Speaking of which, what do you have to do?" "Well, I was just contemplating that when our friend arrived on the scene. I guess I should think about finding a hotel. But first priority is a decent restaurant. Slim pickings around here. You got any suggestions?" "Nothing but freeway food for miles around. I've got a better idea. If you can wait a bit, I'll be off duty. We can go over to my place and I'll whip you up some real grub." "That sounds like too much trouble. I don't want to bother you." "No trouble. I don't get a chance to hang with other bodybuilders very often because of my job. And women bodybuilders even less. To tell the truth, I've been looking forward to meeting you for some time. To a lot of us girls you're sort of the symbol of our independence in body building. We all saw what happened last year and it pissed us off. It would be great to spend a little time with you. No trouble at all." Patty thought for a moment. She'd been dealing with other people on very intense levels all day. Now here she was, about to be deified again, and she didn't think she was up to it. On the other hand, there weren't many people in the world who could identify with what she had been through. Even at the gym all of her friends, including the other owners of the place, were men. Very rarely did she get a chance to sit down and air her gripes with someone who would know where she was coming from. And she had, after all, expected a home Russian Lolita cooked meal at the end of her journey down the coast. "That sounds great." "You'll stay?" "Sure. My life has been so overflowed with men recently, it'll be nice to do some girl talk." "Great! I have to get back to the post and log out. Why don't you meet me at my place. I'll give you the keys and directions. No sense you having to hang out someplace stupid waiting for me. I shouldn't be much more than a half hour." "You sure about this?" "Hey. If we can't trust another bodybuilder, who can we trust?" "The judges." June let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Yeah. Right. Come on over to the squad car and I'll give you the pertinent data." Patty followed June over to her car where she was given a set of keys and a detailed map of the county. June traced out the route to her house, explained about the layout of the subdivision (350 units that all looked exactly alike) and how to identify hers. "And the cat's name is Barney." "Barney?" "Rubble." "Ah. Got it." "He'll probably yell at you when you first go in. You'll find his food in the fridge on the top shelf. If you dump what's in the can into his bowl by the counter he'll leave you alone. For a while." "The least I can do. You want me to do anything about dinner while I wait?" "That's okay. I've got it down to a system. Just call me Microwave Minnie. There's munchies in the vegetable drawer and some salsa on the door of the fridge. Chips in the cabinet next to it. Make yourself to home. I'll see you in a while." "Thanks, June. Of all the weird twists my life has taken today, this is the most settling." "Bad day, huh?" "Bad? Maybe. Weird? Most definitely." "Well, if you have any aggressions you need to work off, make sure you take a trip down to the Russian Lolita basement. You'll find just about anything you need there." "Thanks. So I guess I'll see you in a bit." "Sure thing." "By the way." "Yeah?" "I'm glad it was you that answered the call. If a guy had shown up he would have spent the past fifteen minutes explaining how this was all my fault." "Possibly. But you might be surprised in this town. My being on the force and having mild success in the sport has opened these guys up a bit. We talk about this stuff a lot. They're still Neanderthal boneheads, but they're coming around. I gotta get back to the station and sign out. See you at home." June got in the squad car and drove out of the parking lot. After watching the car disappear down the Russian Lolita road Patty turned her attention to the map. She studied it for a few seconds to get her bearings and then headed back out onto the freeway herself. Although the air was becoming a bit cool she decided to keep the top down. The breeze whipped up over the windshield and again her nipples hardened and pressed against the fabric of her bra. By the time she exited about two miles up the road they were throbbing with a bright pain that sent shivers through her body. She thought of pressing her hands hard against them when she stopped at the light at the top of the ramp, but several cars pulled up next to her. The act of resisting made them ache all the more powerfully. The directions were fairly uncomplicated until she got to the subdivision where June lived. At that point it was a matter of driving a couple of blocks, stopping to check the map once again and then continuing on. The roads twisted, turned and ended without any kind of pattern or an appearance of reason. Someone had taken all the wrong reasons for curved roads and thrown them into this one development. Twice she had to backtrack, Russian Lolita and once she thought she found the house, the address was the same, but it wasn't on a corner as June had explained. Signs were no help as every street had the same name with only the type of thoroughfare changing: Lane, Road, Avenue, Terrace, Place, Way. Even Boulevard, though there was no divider running down the middle. When she did finally arrive at what she thought was June's place she cautiously rang the doorbell and waited a full minute until she was sure no one was home. She then slipped the key into the hole and was relieved when it turned easily and the deadbolt slipped smoothly into the door. She pushed the door open and was about to step inside when she heard a child cry. June had said nothing about a baby. And what was a baby doing at home all by itself? Again the crying. Plaintive, pitiful, mournful. What was she getting herself into? June seemed like such a nice person. And a cop. But there was no doubt, there was definitely a child crying somewhere in the house. Patty stepped inside and Russian Lolita started to search for the child. Several times she heard the crying, but each time it seemed to be coming from a different place. She finally zeroed in on it and thought it might be coming from the area of the kitchen. One final cry of anguish convinced her of the direction and she headed that way. As she entered the room, her hand sliding up the wall in search of a light switch, something brushed against her leg. She jumped back into the dining room and looked down. Sticking out from doorway was a long, thick tail; bushy and erect. It shivered with tension. "Barney?" "Maaaaaaaooooowwwwwww!" The baby had been found. Barney did an about face and rubbed himself up against the doorjamb. Patty breathed a sigh of relief and moved into the kitchen. There was a hood over the stove and she was able to locate Russian Lolita the switch for the light within. "Maaarrrr?" "Hi there. I'm Patty." "Maaaooowwwww." "I guess I should feed you. Let me see if we can find your food." "Maaaaaaaawwwwwwwwww!" "Okay. Hold your horses. June said there's some here in the fridge. Yup. right were she said it was. Now where's your bowl. Oh, yeah." "Mrrrrooooowwwww." "Hold on a second. I'm working on it. Where's the silverware? Ah! I guess I just give you the rest of the can, huh." "Mrrooorrrooorrwwww." "There you go." Patty set the bowl of food on the floor where she had found it and Barney attacked it as though he had been deprived of food for several weeks. His size indicated otherwise. Within seconds a loud rumbling noise began as he dropped into content mode, savoring his evening meal. With her assignment complete she decided to explore the house. A drawer in the fridge yielded up a large selection of sliced vegetables. She grabbed a handful and began to wander, turning on lights as she went. The layout of the house was basic south-coast-efficient with small concessions to creativity. The living room ceiling was cathedraled, the stairway to the second floor ended in a balcony that overlooked the space. June had attempted to make the place her own with some ingenious ideas that included building a loft above part of the living room and a hammock strung below. Bookcases lined the walls of almost every room she went into. There seemed to be no order to them, but each time you looked at a shelf you saw a book which begged to be taken out and examined. At least a dozen books lay around on various coffee and end tables, face down, spine up, in the process of being read. Patty wondered how June could find time to read so voraciously and still be able to dedicate herself to her career and sport as thoroughly as she appeared to. There was, of course, the possibility of another occupant, but Patty thought June would have mentioned that. At the top of the stairs were several doors which revealed two bedrooms, both equally furnished, a full bath Russian Lolita and a closet for towels and such. From up here she saw it was an easy step off the balcony and onto the loft. Easy enough, in fact, that Barney seemed to have used that very method to get there. He was splayed out in the center of the bed, performing his after meal ablutions. When he noticed Patty looking at him he promptly rolled over, arched his back and entreated her to rub his stomach. Patty couldn't reach him without stepping out onto the loft, so decided to forgo the invitation. As she started back down the stairs Barney yelled at her and then returned to the task of cleaning his tail. The stairs to the basement were located next to the refrigerator so she grabbed a few more vegetable sticks on the way past. The light switch at the top of the stairs was a dimmer which she turned. A golden glow appeared below, revealing a carpeted floor. The slanted ceiling above the stairs presented even more bookshelves. These, however, held a collection of trophies which all bore June's name. Patty chuckled to herself. Nothing like a little reminder of what this is all about on your way down to the torture chamber. Most of the awards here were medals and smaller trophies. One especially caught her eye. "Best New Comer." That was the award June had won the night the judges had decided to slight Patty because of her "inappropriate" breast size. The blood rushed to her head and she relived the anger and pain of that evening. It felt very similar to the way she had felt after having flipped the guy the bird tonight. Futile, inappropriate, useless. What would she have done otherwise, though? Now it felt better just to shrug it off and get on with it. A sense of excitement rushed through her body and mind as she anticipated what she would find at the bottom of the stairs. Already her nostrils had picked up the familiar smell of sweat and other wonderful body odors which were linked inextricably with a gym. She hadn't done any work on her body that morning, rarely did on Sunday, so she smiled as her muscles tensed and hummed in anticipation. She diverted her attention from the memorabilia and headed downstairs. Patty began to suspect that June had something against blank wall surfaces. Every square inch was covered with photos, some shelves holding larger trophies, racks holding smaller free weights, the odd bookshelf or two which seemed to have every body building reference book currently in print, and different pieces of bric-a-brac which Patty hoped were odd joke gifts given by friends rather than purchases thought to be in good taste by her host. In the far corner of the room, beyond all the gear, past the huge universal set that filled the center of the room, was a water cooler, its inverted bottle filled halfway, and a large metal storage closet. Next to that was an open door which led to what appeared to be a shower and toilet. Patty wandered around the room, touching, looking, feeling. When she got to the metal closet she tried the handle. Locked. How could she not help but be curious. Perhaps the key was on the set June had given her to get into the place. But that was upstairs on the kitchen table. She shrugged and continued around the room. Halfway down the wall she found a photo of the night of June's triumph and her own defeat. All the contestants had gotten together for a group pose just before the decision of the judges had been announced. She searched the photo and found herself. "My God," she thought. "Was I ever cut-up that night." The fact of the matter was that she had never looked so good. And in the opinion of almost everyone else that night no one else had ever looked that good, either. Everyone except the judges, of course. She continued to scan the photo, looking for June. She didn't have far to search. She was posing in a squat position, her left leg extended out to her side, about three feet to the right of Patty. Everyone in the photo was grimacing and crunching, muscles bulging, their eyes focused firmly on the camera. Everyone, that is, except June. There was no mistaking the point of her interest. Her eyes were locked firmly on Patty. She almost didn't hear the front door open and the footsteps across the floor upstairs. Her heart was pounding rather hard, her mind was racing rather fast, her clit vibrated ever so slightly. She had been around the block so many times today she hardly thought it possible she could be desirous of anyone short of her new neighbor. And even then she thought it might just be nice to cuddle up in his huge, strong arms and simply enjoy the pressure of his hard, thick, eleven-and-a-half inch cock against her spine as he made little thrusting motions in response to the great need for his cock to find release. His huge hands surrounding her magnificent breasts, squeezing, kneading, pulling and twisting her hard, firm nipples as they increased in length until they just screamed to be sucked. "Patty?" "Huh?" "I guess you didn't hear me. I said thanks for feeding Barney." "Huh? Oh, yeah. No problem. He's quite a talker." "He's my coach. When I get to a point when I can't press another pound, he sits on the stairs here and yells at me. Actually, I think he just figures I'm finished and so it's time to feed him, but the effect is the same. I see you found the right picture." "You should have paid attention when the guy said 'watch the birdie'." June blushed just a bit and came over to join Patty at the photo. "That would have been a much more interesting photo if they had taken it a few minutes later." June had changed out of her uniform and was now wearing a tight pair of jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. And no bra. Of course. Patty's own outrageous nipples were quite obvious through the fabric of her blouse, bearing witness to the thoughts which had been flooding her mind. She knew June would misunderstand the reason for her arousal. Or perhaps it was Patty, herself, who was not in tune with her own feelings of the moment. She turned her attention back to the photo and focused in on the image of her host. There was no doubt as to her right to her award for the evening. For a first timer at that level, June had shown herself to be more fully developed than many of the women who had been there several years running. Patty knew what that body would feel like. Knew the tense, incredibly sensual feeling of those hard, firm muscles lying just beneath the surface of her smooth, taut skin. She fixed her focus again on her own picture and suddenly saw herself with new eyes. The eyes of this (could there be any other word for it) adoring fan. She had been at her absolute peak that night. Many of the contestants that evening, both male and female, had expressed a desire to spend the night with her. She had, at the time, rejected their offers as mere sympathy, choosing instead the opportunity to wallow in her own self-pity for the evening. Had June been one of those who had offered? She had little memory of the details following the contest. If June had, she would have been just another in the crowd. There was no question, though, of the thought crossing June's mind the moment the shutter captured this image for posterity. She turned back to June, not at all surprised to see the same look of desire now placed openly and unabashedly on her face. "You were so beautiful that night. And I was so high on the success of my first big contest. I knew you were going to be there, knew I didn't have a chance against you, but when the final decision came down, all I wanted to do was grab you, hold you, try to make you know the judges were wrong." Patty stared at her. There were no words to say. It seemed as though some huge bulldozer had come into her life and smoothed all the usual bumps and hills away, leaving no place to hide. When you didn't think you wanted sex, usually there were plenty of excuses. Even when you really did want it, you usually could find a good enough reason not to in spite of yourself. And yet, here she was, so many orgasms to the good for the day that she had no idea how to count them and here was this young woman with a body as hard and firm and sexy and desirous as her own, who would know how to flip every switch in her libido because she would know just what she wanted, just what would make her incredible body sing and soar. . . "Come with me. I want to show you something." June took Patty's hands in her own and led her over to the corner where the locked cabinet stood. She reached around behind it and retrieved a key from somewhere on the wall. Just before she slid the key into the lock she again faced Patty. "I don't know how or why you and I came to meet tonight. The odds of it are staggering. But I have been looking forward to this chance for more than just the past year." She unlocked the door, swung it open and stood back. Patty's mind was overwhelmed by what she saw. She experienced a slight case of vertigo as she was suddenly assaulted with dozens of images of herself plastered all over the inside of the locker. Most of them seemed to have been cut out of various magazines but some were actual photographs, taken over the course of several years. The earliest ones seemed to place her at about the same age that June Russian Lolita was now, seven to eight years her junior. There seemed to be little or no order to the way the photos were displayed, but together they showed Patty's progress from her first contest, where she, too, won most promising new comer, to the evening of her final competition. And right in the middle of them all was a photo, larger than any of the others, fully eight by ten, of Patty in the nude. She immediately recalled the occasion where it was taken. She had known the photographer and trusted her discretion in not letting the photo be distributed. She was in the shower room of The Pump House. A thin, hard stream of water poured down on her. As it hit her head it sprayed in all directions, causing a halo of water to appear around her head. She had stood very still and the photographer had left the shutter open for nearly a half second. The effect had been stunning. The date had been just two days before her last contest. She had just finished her workout for the day and she was so ripped and pumped she could hardly move. Everything was big. When her friend had presented her with a copy of the photo along with the negative just before the contest she had swooned with the certainty that she would win that evening. "Where did you get this?" "You left it backstage in your locker after the contest. I tried to find you, to give it back, but you had left in such a hurry. I know I should have given it to someone to give to you, but I didn't know who you wanted to see it, who you would have trusted. I'm sorry." "Where is the negative?" June reached behind the photo and pulled the strip of film up. She handed it to Patty, her hand almost shaking with tension. "I've never shown it to anyone. I've never made a copy. This is the only one." "I'm not used to being in this position. The different emotions from that night are still pretty confused in my head. It's been a year, and I still haven't dealt with it very well. I'm not sure how I feel about this." "You want to leave?" Patty locked her eyes on June's. There was that same piercing look, her eyes flitting back and forth, taking in every detail, evaluating Patty's every move, every thought. Patty tried to do the same. She searched June's face, looking for some hint as to what this all meant to her, what her stake in all this was. Several possibilities cropped up. An adoring fan. A freaked out groupie. A psychopath with a eleven-and-a-half inch machete hidden behind the cabinet, ready to plunge it deep into her wide-spread vagina as she cried out for more. Stop it, Patty! One thing was certain in her mind; June was very sorry for what she had done, not just for getting caught. She had certainly meant no malice. Hell, she was a cop for godsake. That had to count for something. Besides, if she was going to pull anything funny, what could Patty do, call the police? Patty stuck the strip of negatives in the pocket of her blouse. "Keep the photo. It certainly didn't mean enough to me. I had completely forgotten about it until just now." "Thank you. I hope you know what this is all about." "I'm not quite sure. I was hoping there would be some simple explanation." "I'm not fixated on you, per se. But look at these photos. Think of yourself when you were just starting. I know you didn't have a whole lot of role models back in those days. Today, those of us just coming up have you to look up to. I looked around at all the greats, checked out what they did and how their results worked. And, except for the noticeable difference in our cup sizes, I thought you were the one I could most easily identify with. Inspiration." "Inspiration?" "For the most part, anyway. You see in that photo on the wall over there? I didn't know they were going to shoot just then. I was looking at you because I was trying to match your pose. I wanted to be able to compare when I finally got the photo back. To see what kind of progress I'd made and where I still needed to go." "That's why the serious, studious look of lust on your face." "I can study and fantasize at the same time." Patty stepped back a bit and ran her gaze up and down June's body. She had made incredible progress since that night. The next time she got up on the dais, people were going to forget she had been a new comer the year before. June was able to stand still for only a few seconds under Patty's gaze. But she could not control herself for long. She quickly grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and flung it up over her head and towards a corner of the room. She brought her arms back down to her sides and flexed her muscles. Deltoids, biceps, triceps, lats and pecs exploded on her upper torso. Her breasts, which had been full and round, flattened as they were stretched across the massive expanses of her chest. Her abdominals rippled into a flat, hard expanse of rock hard muscle that pressed at the snap of her jeans. She quickly turned around and gave Patty an astonishing back shot that presented every fiber of muscle in microscopic detail. She bent and flexed in several different directions and then turned back around to see Patty's reaction. Patty was trying hard to be objective, but the effect of June's body was overwhelming. Not that it was so big. She had several years to go before she caught up with the big names in the sport. What was so unsettling was that she felt as though she were looking in a mirror. June had followed Patty's training routine so accurately, had rightly judged her body type so perfectly, that her body looked just as Patty's had maybe three years ago. Seeing no apparent objection on Patty's part, June reached for the snap at the top of her jeans, undid it, unzipped it and quickly stepped out of them, taking her shoes with them. She was now completely naked. Again she began a posing routine for her idol, this time concentrating on her lower body. Her pubic hair was shaved completely off, as Patty's had been, to accommodate the minuscule posing suit worn in competition. But unlike the posing dais, the lights were much softer here. There was no body oil, no hard driving, almost-too-loud-to-stand-it-music. Just June pulling pose after pose, some looking very familiar, grunting, moaning, sucking in huge gulps of air to replenish the oxygen used to generate the huge muscles that continued to pop out all over her wonderful physique. When she had reached the end of her routine, she stood full front to Patty, her chest heaving with deep breaths. And she just stared. Patty knew what she wanted. She could feel the desire, the lust, the animal energy. She Russian Lolita stopped herself for just a moment to make sure she really wanted to do this. June was right. There had been just a few heroines in the sport when she was coming up. And if she had gotten the chance to go face to face with one of them Russian Lolita when she was just getting started, nothing in the world would have been able to stop her. As she undid the buttons on her blouse she felt an incredible sense of history repeating itself. She could hardly call it d�j� vu; this was no illusion. Here, again, was an amazing, sexy, hard, firm body poised before her on the brink of orgasm, eyes locked on her every move as she slowly revealed the magnificent body beneath her clothing. Patty wondered if June would be as hard and fast, in her own female way, as her brother-in-law had been. Her long, hard nipples were aching to be touched again, as though they had not just been ministered to completely only an hour before. The thought again crossed her mind that this sex thing seemed to be completely out of control. She had never been this horny, this insatiable. That was the only way she could describe it. Not once today had she passed up a chance for a sexual encounter; had, in fact, actively pursued most of them. As she studied June's reaction she imagined another hard, firm, hugely muscled body standing beside the young girl, his huge cock dangling between his thickly-muscled legs, long and rope-like, testicles heavy in their scrotum, a small drop of fluid glistening as it poised to drip from the. . . She was obsessed. That's what it was. Everything she had done today had been in response to that eleven-and-a-half inch cock lying in the palm of her hand. And now she was submitting to it again. But the obsession was no illusion, either. Her cunt was flowing with juices. She was sure June could smell her. Or was that June she was smelling. She took a deep breath, felt the constriction of her bra, and quickly undid the snap. June was mesmerized. The tension in her body made every muscle stand out in dynamic relief. She even seemed to be getting a little light headed. "You'd better breath, honey. There's nothing less impressive than a limp lump of flesh lying on the floor." June's eyes flashed to Patty's face. It took a couple of seconds for her words to sink in and then she gasped for air. "Your pictures don't do you justice." "They never do." "Even now, a year later, you're still so beautiful. There's nothing wrong with being so female and so built. Please pose for me." Patty finished undressing and struck a few poses for her, including several she had recognized as her own from June's recent performance. As she struck them, she shot June a look that said, "That's how it's supposed to be done." June blushed again as she got the message. Patty wished she would quit doing that. Every time her cheeks lit up, Patty's clit would throb. After several minutes, June could apparently control herself no longer. She moved closer to Patty, hesitated for a moment, then, with courage mustered, took Patty's hands and led her to the bench attached to the Universal in the center Russian Lolita of the room. She sat Patty on the edge then kneeled down in front of her, her hands still holding Patty's. As with Bob, there seemed to be the feeling of some long-imagined fantasy being acted out. She chuckled a bit as the thought of hundreds, thousands, millions of sexy, frustrated humans around the world all lining up to act out their sexual dreams with the object of their desire, herself. It would probably get old after the first seven or eight million. "What's so funny?" "Nothing, love. I'm just having a great day, that's all. What do you want me to do?" "What do you mean?" "I get the feeling you've given this moment some. . .er, thought." "I did sort of have an idea or two." Patty smiled. June was trying so hard to play it cool, but the evidence of her body spoke volumes about her need, her desire. Her nipples were very, very hard. The staggering aroma of their juices mixing, mingling, making both of them light-headed. June was squeezing and kneading her hands almost to the point of pain so Patty pulled her hands away, leaned back with her arms propping her up, spread her legs and grinned. "Yesssss," June hissed. Just a lucky guess. The young woman's head slowly lowered until it was level with Patty's crotch. She ran her hands up the hard, strong legs on either side, eliciting a soft moan from Patty's throat. There was nothing better than a woman doing a woman. No man could know what this felt like, just as she knew she could never fully understand the amazing nature of a fully erect, hard, throbbing cock. June would know where all the buttons were, would press them in the right order, would not move on until everything had happened in its proper sequence. There would be no need to fill in the blanks left by an amazingly virile but understandably unknowing partner whose own desires sometimes brought him into conflict with what the female anatomy needed to find completion. What a perfectly wonderful way to end the day. Dessert at the end of an amazing seven or eight course meal. June's fingers were massaging the inside of her thighs, coming nearer and nearer to her full, pouting vaginal lips. As she made contact a shock raced through Patty's body, causing her to arch her back, forcing her cunt up towards the source of her desire. Slowly she brought her ass back down onto the bench, but the energy was still flowing. As June fondled and caressed the outer lips her hips began making small bumping motions. A small vibration began in the center of her cunt and spread outwards, enveloping her in a sense of urgency. Small moans bubbled up from her throat and her breasts, with their long, hard nipples, ached to be touched. With her head thrown back, she pictured in her mind what June's actions were. She felt hot breath on the insides of her thighs. Felt soft, silky hair fall against her legs. The breath got closer, she sensed something touch the small tuft of pubic hair that guarded her hot, steamy cunt, and then. . . "Oh, my God! Oooooh! Yesssssss." June's tongue began at the very bottom of her vaginal opening and snaked and slathered its way up to the top, slowly insinuating itself until it had burrowed deep enough to find the capo di capo, the coup d'�tat, the holy grail, the fount of all founts, that place where the world began and ended and where nothing else could exist except in connection with the amazing energy that rumbled and roared through her hard, muscular body. Her arms collapsed and she fell back onto the bench. Her hands shot to her breasts and she twisted and tugged, massaged and pulled at her own hard, firm mounds of flesh and the extraordinary nipples that capped them. Her mind reeled as she tried, for a brief moment, to hang onto reality, but that was futile and senseless. She let herself go and spun off as wave after wave of mind-boggling sensation wracked her body. June was doing exactly what she would have done, had she been so built. What woman hadn't dreamed of being able to do this to herself, knowing every move she wanted, meeting every desire. June came very close to fulfilling that dream. There was no rush, no ulterior motive. She was not being primed, made ready to receive the golden Russian Lolita lance. This was all there was. Wave after wave of inexpressible pleasure. June changed her position and began to work her way up on top of Patty. She took over the attentions to Patty's breasts and Patty was free to let her hands roam over the hard, firm body which lay on top of her. She knew this body, had run her hands over it in the shower, in bed, standing before a mirror in her room. It felt so familiar. She knew where to squeeze, where to dig, where to grab and pull and caress and stroke. With each moment June became more aroused, her attentions increasing in speed and desire. Now she was completely on top of Patty, her hips grinding against Patty's, her breasts grinding against Patty's, her nipples pressed hard against Patty's. Her mouth pressed hard against Patty's. Her tongue pressed and pressed and pressed until she was so deep Patty could feel her soul being licked. Patty assumed the attack and dove deep into June's mouth, sucking deeply at her being. Hands ran through hair, pulled, tugged. Bodies rocked and Patty had to splay her legs even further to keep them from tumbling off their precarious perch. As June moved her head to the side to attack one of Patty's bulging deltoids Patty saw the bar above her and wondered how much weight it carried. Her hands wrapped firmly around the grips and she began to press upwards. Must be at least two hundred fifty, she thought. Her triceps and pecs flared and June's mouth was immediately all over the inflamed muscles. Patty's clit began throbbing intensely with an energy which she had become quite familiar with during the course of the day. She increased her pelvic thrusts against June's attack. Her arms began to swell and pulse, ache and throb. Her clit did the same. She pumped her arms and her clit and drove herself higher and higher. June's own actions spoke of increased desire and Patty wondered if the two of them were going to pop together. It became difficult to concentrate the energy needed to lift the weight, so she extended her arms one final time, her huge pecs and triceps screaming with the pump. She held it there as long as she could as June continued her pelvic assault. Her breathing became more labored, her cries increased in volume. Patty could stand it no longer. She lowered the bar as cautiously as possible, the weights still crashed and bounced, and then she grabbed on to June's hard, muscular back and drove herself right to the edge. It wasn't enough. She hovered there for what seemed like an eternity, ready to take the big fall, but she couldn't take the last step. June, sensing Patty's distress, quickly slid back down between Patty's powerful legs. Her lips clamped down firmly on her idol's clit and sucked hungrily. That was all it took. A bolt of electricity thrashed through Patty's body; her pelvis heaved powerfully against June's attack. She felt a huge opening appear and she was rushed down through a long, bright tube of pleasure that carried her out and away from herself. June exerted an heroic effort as she clamped her mouth down hard on Patty's heaving vagina, her tongue generating wave after wave of exquisite pain with each attack. Patty sat up straight, barely missing the bar with her head. Her hands were everywhere, kneading, pressing, squeezing, digging into June's hard muscles. She pulled June's face back to her own and dug her nails deep into the young woman's back. Russian Lolita June's lips smashed against her own. One of Patty's hands dove between them and her finger found June's clit. Within seconds she could feel a river of wetness flowing down the inside of the woman's thighs. June cried out loudly, matching Patty's own shouts of joy. It seemed they had more in common than just a work out routine. Before she knew it she was flat on her back again, June's hips heaving against her own, sending Patty over the top again. Patty, refusing to see the end of her joy, drove herself on through it, taking June with her. Her orgasm pushed her further towards the brink of some unknown chasm, the depth of which she could not perceive. She had completely given up control of her body to the moment and enjoyed the feeling of being on some massive amusement park ride, her destiny beyond her control. Her body's needs propelled her further and further beyond herself. After what seemed to be an eternity of unbridled release she sensed June's presence again and the beginnings of concern. The woman had not been ready for this kind of experience. It certainly had taken them both further than they had expected to go. Patty's arms flew around June's back and she hugged her tight. Their mouths met again in one final, deep kiss and then June slid down Patty's body until she collapsed on the floor between Patty's quivering, tense thighs. Patty shuddered uncontrollably as June's body rubbed across her aching clit and a series of small cries popped from her mouth. The room filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing. After a few moments Patty raised her head to see, through the canyon between her breasts, the face of her willing partner. Their eyes caught at each other's and they smiled. June sighed and said, "I knew it would be something like that." "How could it not be?" "What do you mean?" "We're two peas from the same pod. Our bodies drive us. When I pump, when I fuck, when I do anything, the single most important thing is how good it will make my body feel." "It's good we're both is such good shape, otherwise I don't think either of us would have lived through that." "Honey, after what I've been through today, its a wonder I was able to even think about participating. I don't know who keeps track of those kind of numbers, but I'm pretty sure I've set some kind of record today." "Record for what?" "Orgasms, my sweet. Multiple orgasms with multiple partners. I hate to say this, but you are the last in a long line of Sunday flings for me." "Then you are in very good shape. I was going to suggest that you get out more often. I was under the impression you hadn't gotten any in several months, the way you let go back there." "Just the opposite is the case. In fact, I haven't had more than a couple hours between orgasms since I woke up this morning. And only one of them was self-generated." "Let me guess. The first one. Right?" "Yeah. But even that was weird." "How so?" Patty related the details of her meeting that morning with Arnold and his eleven-and-a-half in cock outside her apartment. "Careful, girl. You're drooling." She then proceeded to sum up the day's activities, leaving out the details about her sister. They had, after Russian Lolita all, only met a few Russian Lolita moments Russian Lolita ago. She couldn't tell her all her dirty little secrets. "You've been a busy girl. The main reason I got into the sport, aside from wanting to hold my own with the ape-men down at headquarters, was to be able to physically support a sex life like that." "I can't imagine you have much trouble finding willing participants." "It's strange, Patty. Up in your neck of the woods a body like yours is, if not commonplace, at least acceptable. You get fifty or a hundred miles outside of the big city and, even though you may be in another big city, the idea still hasn't sunk into a lot of people's heads that a woman can be just as strong, as potent, as a man." "Tell me about it. And it's not just outside the city, either. Look what happened to me last year. And those were people inside the sport. I just make sure I surround myself with folks who have their heads screwed on straight. Or at least don't have the need to go screwing around with mine." "Down here, those kind are few and far between. I have to be very careful when I go out looking for someone to spend the night with. A lot of the guys, and gals for that matter, immediately assume I'm gay." "I think we all tread a thin line when we start investigating all that sex has to offer." "I don't think so, Patty. It's not like I don't like men or women or neither or both. I just like sex. With everyone." "This is starting to sound very familiar. This guy, Arnold, has pretty much the same attitude. I know he's got the hots for this guy who works at the gym. Plans on getting him to be his workout partner. But he's also got a date with me tomorrow night and neither of us left any doubt as to what the main attraction was going to be. I'll be mighty pissed off if he shows up with a book of poetry and some old Charlie Chan videos though." "Poetry's nice. I can't think of anything special about Charlie Chan, but you seem like an inventive person." "I'll try anything once. Twice if you force me. But just don't bore me." "Did I bore you?" "Diving for compliments?" "Yep." "It was like making love to myself. I don't think I could give anyone a better mark." "I know your body." Patty laughed. "No shit." "I mean I know what drives your body. I've studied your routines, your photos, your schedules. I even cut out the interview you did on diet last year before the contest. If the saying 'you are what you eat' is true then I'm you." "You know. Under other circumstances that could all sound pretty freaky." "I know. And I've thought about that. I guess in a way I have obsessed on you. But it was with a goal. You see the progress I've made in the last year. If I was after you I would have tracked you down a long time ago. Everyone knows where you work. Finding you wouldn't have been a problem. What I wanted from you was what made you so successful as a bodybuilder. That's just data." "I'm afraid I have to disagree with you, June. Or at least point out that you don't have the whole picture. If I read all the law books, does that make me a lawyer?" "No. Only cross-eyed." "Exactly. I have to need to be a lawyer. Just because you read everything about my routine doesn't make you big and strong and horny. You have to be like me to be like me. If you get my drift." "I know what you mean. I was only trying to rest your fears that you had some nut on your hands." "I'm not entirely convinced that isn't the case. Anyone who would want to go through what I did to get this body has to have a few screws loose. I usually wonder about myself, about the time I'm rolling out of bed every morning." "But all you have to do is take one look in the mirror, a couple of quick check poses, and you're off to the gym, right?" "You got it, honey. And with knockers like these, I'd be a fool not to want to keep the rest of the body up to speed. It's like you said before. If I wasn't in such great shape, I probably wouldn't be able to survive the sex." "Ah. And there lies the great riddle. Does the sex drive the body, or does the body drive the sex?" "Who the hell cares? As long as there's a good, solid orgasm at the end. And speaking of orgasms. I'm pretty set for now, but if you're at all like I am you probably need a little attention. I know if I had just spent the last fifteen minutes having to stare at this body of mine I'd be pretty damn horny right now." "That's very considerate of you. There's an interesting collection of toys over in the closet there. Perhaps you'd like to take a couple of them for a spin." Patty wandered over to the metal cabinet, trying very hard not to admire the collage of her photos too much. "You have any favorites?" "I wouldn't have wasted money on them if they weren't good for something. You're the guest. You choose." Patty fished through the selection of erotic devices and found several that caught her fancy. She, of course, couldn't pass up the dildo that was only slightly less impressive than Arnold's. It even had a switch on it which promised added entertainment value. She also chose a couple of padded leather straps that would make it very difficult for someone to move, were their hands tied to the press bar of the Universal. She turned back to June and presented her choices to her. June was already lying on the bench, her hands ready to be tied to the bar, her legs spread wide in anticipation of the huge dildo. "Kind of takes some of the fun out of it when you already know how the movie ends." "Oddly enough, I'd just replaced the batteries in that yesterday." Patty set the huge dildo on the floor next to the bench and tied each of June's hands to the grips of the bar. She made sure that her fingers could wiggle freely, and waited a moment to see if there would be any discoloration indicating that the straps were too tight. "How's that feel?" "You do that very well. Not too tight." "You think you could get out of that in an emergency?" June gave a few tugs, but found that the straps held her securely. "I don't think so." "Good. Now, if you're as much like me as you seem to be, you probably don't want this thing in your cunt." June's legs began to scissor back and forth. "I've never had it up the ass before." "You mean, never?" "Never." "Good." Patty went to the shower room and found what she was looking for. The old familiar square plastic jar with the pop-off lid. She returned with it to the weight room and let June watch as she slathered a huge fingerful of the slippery stuff along the length of the dildo. When it was properly lubricated she Russian Lolita took another fingerful and dropped to her knees between June's legs and held it up so she could see it. "Fasten your seat belt, girl. It's going to be a bumpy ride."
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