Like Father, Like Son by AmazonFan Father and son share a female muscle obsession Gary Paris married his high school sweetheart, Elaine, one week after graduating from Princeton in 1972. She worked to support them for the next two years while he earned his M.B.A. from Wharton. On April 17, 1974 Gary received a job offer to join Goldman Sachs as an investment banker. Gary's starting salary more than his father had ever earned. And Gary knew that if he worked his ass off and became a Partner, he was almost guaranteed an early retirement in his 50's with tens of millions in the bank. On the evening of April 17, 1974 Donald Alexander Paris was conceived. Gary's early career at Goldman Sachs is best described as meteoric. He became the third youngest partner in the firm's illustrious history. His share of the firm's annual bonuses totaled over $12 million dollars by the time he was thirty years old. Yes, the hours were long, but the investment in a happy secure wealthy future seemed worth it. Elaine also was doing more than her share to contribute to the Paris family's future fortunes. Deciding to stay at home to raise Donald while Gary excelled at Goldman Sachs, Elaine turned to writing. And under the pen name of Rebecca Mourning, Elaine penned a series of Romantic novels that rivaled Danielle Steele's in popularity. Royalties and personal appearance fees earned her several million dollars. Gary's investment skills turned that into a small fortune. He often joked that he could leave Goldman Sachs penniless and, thanks to Elaine, still be a multi-millionaire. By the time they reached their mid-thirties, Gary and Elaine realized that they were set for life financially. He eased back on his hours at Goldman Sachs, letting the young turks burn the midnight oil. He and Elaine traveled more, took longer vacations. It never ceased to amaze and amuse Gary how many people recognized "Rebecca Mourning" from her book jacket photos. They took great pride in Donald, who excelled academically in school and showed enormous promise as a violinist. Everything changed in 1989. Elaine was on tour promoting her latest pot-boiler, "Murder by Mozart." She was taking a small Northwest commuter flight from Minneapolis to Duluth. The weather was typical of late spring in the Midwest - turbulent. She might have chosen to wait and take a later flight, but Elaine was never one to disappoint. The plane went down claiming all 43 lives, including renowned Romance novelist Rebecca Mourning. The images from the funeral were captured on the local newscasts. The hundreds of mourners, friends of Gary and fans of Elaine. Gary looking stoic but lost. His teenage son Donald at his side. Both felt not only a profound sense of loss, they actually became lost. Gary became lost in his work again, putting in impossible hours. Donald's grades in school dropped out of the honor's range. He stopped his violin lessons. He started hanging out with a rough crowd at school. Gary seemed oblivious to his son's behavior until the arrest for car theft. More prank than criminal intent, nevertheless the appearance of police at Goldman Sachs shocked Gary back to life. The best lawyers were hired. An out of court settlement was reached. With good behavior Donald's record for a juvenile misdemeanor would be sealed. But Gary could not allow Donald to stay with the element in school that had gotten him into trouble. The solution, in Gary's mind, was private school. And so Donald was shipped off to Philips Exeter for his freshman year of high school. The change suited him well. His grades returned. He took up the violin again. And by his senior year he was third in his class with letters of acceptance from Dartmouth, Cornell, Duke and Princeton. Asserting his teenage independence from his father, Donald chose Dartmouth. Gary didn't mind that Donald hadn't chosen Princeton. In fact he liked that Donald seemed able to make his own mind up. But then Gary realized that with Donald away so much through the formative teenage years, he really didn't know his son that well anymore. He'd have to try to get closer to him again during the summer between his freshman and sophomore years. When Donald wrote the letter to his father asking if he could have a guest stay with them for the summer - a female guest - Gary didn't know how to react. He had the impression that Donald hadn't dated much or been that interested in girls while at Exeter. A late blooming interest in females was, nevertheless, a welcome sign. But having this girl in the house all summer might make it harder for Gary to spend more time with his son and get to know him again. In the end Gary decided it was better to let Donald have his guest and try to use the situation to find out who Donald was becoming. Just as Gary and Donald's lives had changed in 1989, the fates had profound changes in store for them in the summer of 1994. And this change was embodied in an extraordinary creature named Samantha Brookings. Samantha "Just call me Sam" Brookings was the quintessential tomboy growing up. A gifted athlete, she blossomed into a remarkably attractive woman who possessed a remarkable physique and formidable strength. This combination of brains, brawn and beauty gave Sam a self-confident aggressiveness, an "I'll do whatever I want" attitude. And made Donald putty in her hands. That and the fact that Sam had an enormous sexual appetite. It didn't seem to bother her that Donald had been a virgin before meeting her. In fact she kidded him about breaking him in right. All Donald knew was that when Sam was in the mood for sex she would keep going and going until he was completely exhausted physically and sexually. Even though he had no basis for comparison, he couldn't imagine sex any better than this. So when Sam suggested staying at his house during the summer so she could take an internship position, Donald though he'd gone to summer vacation heaven. What his father would think of this sexual dynamo turning Donald's bed into a love-making marathon remained to be seen. But Donald had reason to believe that his father would welcome Sam the moment he saw her. That reason was what Donald had discovered three summers earlier.... It was a day in early July. Donald had come across a large box, rummaging through a closet Sensing that it contained something that his father wanted hidden, he opened the lid. First he saw the videotape boxes. "Dad's got some pornos stashed away," he thought, his teenage libido sending his pulse racing. Looking further he came upon envelopes postmarked from California. He emptied one out and sat there, his hands trembling. The folder said L.H. Art and inside was this lavishly illustrated story about a very buxom, hugely muscular girl completely overwhelming a hapless male. What was this stuff? He'd never seen anything like this before. He felt an erection surging to life. It was so strangely arousing. These women, these amazons, using brute strength to get anything they wanted. Forcing men to serve them sexually. He popped a tape into the VCR. The scene opened on a girl in an apartment in a bikini talking angrily on the phone. A knock on the door. A smaller guy with a smart ass attitude. Donald watched in amazement as the girl proceeded to wrestle the guy into complete submission. She had no trouble picking him up and tossing him around. And while the guy's grunts and groans seemed a bit exaggerated, the swelling muscles in her legs were definitely real looking as she scissored him. About halfway through the tape the girl pulled her top off, exposing a luscious pair of full breasts. Donald noticed how short of breath he was, how cold his hands were, how his thighs were quivering. When the girl declared she was going to smother the guy unconscious with her breasts and the camera zoomed in for a close up of his face being buried in her cleavage, Donald came in his pants. He'd masturbated before, but climaxing had never felt like that before. The video rolled on. The girl posed, showing off some fairly impressive biceps. Then more torture as the guy came to. Finally ending with a prolonged sequence where she sat on his face, rubbing her crotch back and forth. Donald was erect again in minutes. Finally Donald had to turn off the tape, for fear of shooting off again.... That was three years ago. In the intervening time he'd check out his father's secret box whenever he was home. There were always new additions, either videos or stories. So Donald was quite sure that his father's interest in strong dominant women was unabated. And when it came to strength and dominance, Sam was in a class by herself. Donald would never forget when he found out just how powerful she was. It was their third date. They hadn't slept together yet. Somehow they started horsing around, wrestling a bit. Donald was lying on top threatening to tickle her if she didn't give. All of a sudden she pushed up and threw him off her body and reversed positions so she was on top, pinning him down. When he felt the overpowering force of her arms pinning his, he realized that she was stronger than he was. Not a little, a lot. She dared him to escape. He couldn't. She told him she intended to take advantage of the situation. He felt her thigh slide up and press against his expectant bulge. She whispered that she wanted to rape a male virgin. Donald couldn't stop her, though in reality he didn't want to. What fun it would be watching his father's reaction to Sam. Donald was sure his father didn't suspect that he knew about the secret collections. It seemed like the perfect set up. He'd have a summer of great sex with Sam and his father wouldn't say anything about it because he'd be infatuated with her body. Sam's natural gifts and devoted exercise regimen had sculpted a physique with incredible density and femininity. At 5'11", Sam had long legs which swelled into substantial 25" thighs. Her glutes were awesomely round and firm. She tipped the scales at 165 pounds. Her waist was 25". She was particularly proud of her upper body development. Her arms were 16 1/2" and her chest measured 44". A perfect C cup, rounded and firm with full cleavage that didn't need any boost from a Wonderbra. Sam could have been a D or DD, but she stuck to a very low fat diet. Donald, in sharp contrast, had plenty of brains, but not an abundance of brawn. He was a lanky 6'1" and weighed 166 pounds. And Gary stood 5'8" and weighed 158 pounds. Donald was careful to keep Sam's physical size and attributes a secret from Gary. After all, he reasoned, hadn't his father been keeping secrets from him? Freshman year exams finally ended. Donald and Sam left Hanover to drive to the house, each in their own cars. Sam arrived at the Paris residence first and decided to get out and start unpacking her car, not knowing how far behind Donald was. Gary heard the car and walked outside. His first view of his son's summer guest was her rear end as she bent into the back of her Jeep to haul out a box. She hadn't heard him coming and he felt a bit uncomfortable just staring at her butt, so he cleared his throat. Sam turned around to face him. "Oops. Not exactly the first impression I wanted to make." she smiled. "You must be Donald's father. Hi, Mr. Paris, I'm Sam Brookings. Thanks so much for letting me stay here this summer." She extended her hand to shake his. "Please, call me Gary. I'm trying not to feel like an old man." he replied. "Welcome, it's a pleasure to have you here." Gary was immediately struck by the fact that Sam was taller than he was and had a very firm grip. "Need a hand? Then I can show you the house." Sam reached into the back of the Jeep and hauled out two duffel bags, one in each hand. She lifted them up over a pile of boxes she already had in the driveway and put them down. "Sure, if you don't mind you can grab one of these," she replied. "I can hardly wait to see the house inside. The outside and the grounds are really gorgeous. Do you take care of it?" "I putter around a little, plant a few annuals each spring, but I really don't have the time," Gary replied, bending over to pick up the duffel. He could barely lift it. Something very heavy rolled around inside. He used both hands to finally pick it up. "Jeez, what do you have in here?" "Oh that's just a few of my dumbbells," she replied, "I figured I wouldn't be able to join a gym this summer." Gary thought to himself that a lot of girls her age were into working out, but as he struggled to hide his struggle to carry the bag into the house he began to wonder... "This is absolutely beautiful Mr. Paris, I mean, Gary," Sam said appreciatively as she got the tour of the house. Gary had shown her the room she'd be staying in. It was in the middle of the wing of the house all the bedrooms were in. Gary's was at one end and Donald's was at the other. Donald hadn't said anything about where she should sleep in his letters and Gary was not about to presume anything. If they were having sex, he thought it better that he not openly condone it. Wasn't that what parents were supposed to do? He could just look the other way, so to speak. And with Donald's room at the far end of the hall they'd both have some privacy. "I love the way all the bedrooms open out to the pool," Sam commented. "Will it be a problem if do laps early in the morning? I like to get up early." "No. It won't disturb me," Gary answered. "I'll make sure the filter goes on early and I'll check the temperature to see if we need the heater." Gary was wrapping up the tour when Donald arrived. "About time you finally got here," Sam teased. "How fast were you going?" Donald asked. "I still can't figure out how you avoid the radar." "I fly under it." she laughed. "Well, let's hurry up and get you unloaded. Your father wants me to see how I like the pool temperature. He's going to set the timers up so I can do laps in the morning." "Ah, yes, Sam the superjock. Always in motion." Donald taunted. Sam poked Donald in the ribs. "Keeps me several steps ahead of you," she came back. About half an hour later Donald and Sam were finished unloading. Gary was out by the pool. He had made lunch for the three of them and set it up outside. Donald came out first. "So what do you think of Sam?" he asked. "Nice girl. Seems smart. Very outgoing. I hope she likes it here." Gary replied. "Oh she will," Donald reassured him. "She's got her internship to keep her busy and I'll try to keep her entertained. Of course I won't be much of a substitute for some of the jocks she likes to hang with, but maybe I'll get in shape trying." "I take it she's an athlete?" Gary asked. "Well she doesn't compete on the varsity level, although she's more than talented enough to," Donald replied. "But she's at the gym everyday and she loves intramurals. Gee pops, you need glasses? One look at her and you know she's a jock." "I may need glasses, but I'm not blind," Gary replied. "And don't call me 'pops', unless you'd like to be called 'sonny.'" Donald grinned at his father as he laughed to himself, knowing that he was making sure his father would take careful notice of Sam. As if on cue, Sam strolled out through the sliding glass door from her bedroom. She had deliberately chosen to be modest with a one piece tank suit. Even so, there was no hiding the splendid development that years of working out had produced. Gary tried to avoid gawking at her, but the closer she got, the more he could see that she had a magnificent body that oozed strength and power. She outclassed all but a couple of the women he'd seen in his wrestling videos. Donald didn't miss his father's widening eyes. He knew Sam was making quite an impression. And he couldn't help but string his father along a bit more. "Hey Sam, my dad didn't realize that you were such a jock," he said. "Why don't you make a muscle for him?" Sam shot Donald a "what are you doing?" look. "Go on." he urged. "Dad's a Princeton guy. Back when he was in college Dartmouth wasn't even coed. Show him what Dartmouth women are made of." Gary was desperately trying to stay cool, not wanting to seem at all anxious, even though he was dying to see her muscle. With Sam standing right next to Donald, it dazzled him to see how much bigger her arms and legs were compared to his son's. Sam extended one arm and turned her hand palm up. She clenched her fist and started bending her arm upwards. Her biceps muscles swelled and elongated. As her hand moved closer to her shoulder the muscle changed shape, congealing into a massive peaked ball. It was hard and huge. Sam and Gary's eyes met, and for a flickering instant, his eyes betrayed him. He could feel his face turning red. Could she possibly know or understand the effect she was having on him? Could she sense his fascination with the power she possessed? Or was she oblivious to the effect she could have on certain types of men - men who kept hidden their videos and their illustrated stories and their carnal desires. Donald watched his father's reaction and thought "Gotcha!" What delicious fun to know that Sam's astonishing physique was driving his father crazy and there was nothing the old man could do about it. And if his father ever knew that Sam knew how to use all that muscle, that she loved to wrestle, that she was better at it than any of the girls he'd seen in the videos -- no, he'd better not find out. That would really blow his mind. That would be torture. That evening, Gary went to bed early. Donald and Sam sat in the video room, watching HBO. "Your dad's really nice. He's not as old as I thought. I think it's going to be pretty comfortable here this summer. But tell me, why'd you make such a big thing about my muscles?" "Did I? I didn't realize. I mean, all that happened was we were talking about what an athlete you were before you came out and I just wanted to show him." "You sure? I thought he gave me this funny look and then it seemed he got kind of embarrassed." "Look, I don't think my father's had a date since my mother died. And maybe having a beautiful woman standing in front of him in a bathing suit...well, like you said, he's not that old." "Donald!" she protested. "So would you like to spend the night in my room?" he asked. "Not a good idea. He may need some adjustment to having me here and I don't think we should upset him. Might seem too confrontational." "That's my Sam. The sensitive girl with the muscles of steel." Gary woke up about 7:00 AM. He usually slept in later on Sunday, but he felt pretty awake since he'd gone to bed early. He'd done that deliberately to give Donald and Sam some space. And he wanted to be asleep before they went to bed, wherever they ended up. The last thing he wanted was to hear them making love. Not after that afternoon. Imagining Sam's young, firm muscular body, naked in bed. The fullness of her breasts. The coiled power of her muscles. Oh shit, she was driving him crazy. What was wrong with him? She was so much younger. But the visions kept floating before him. His hand slipped under the covers to stroke his rigid erection. Then he noticed it. The sound coming from the window. The splashing water. Sam was in the pool, doing her laps, just like she said she would. He just lay in bed, listening for a while, waiting for his erection to subside. Finally he decided to get up, just as the sound of splashing water subsided. He hopped out of bed and strode over to the sliding glass door. He went to the side and pulled the drape open a tiny bit, just to peek. What he saw made him upset he'd forgotten to put on his eyeglasses, sitting on the night stand. There in a bit of a blur was Sam climbing out of the pool, her back to him, nude. In less than a second she had a big robe wrapped around her. So Sam went skinny dipping for her morning laps! "Shit, what am I doing?" Gary said to himself, his guilt at spying on her overcoming the thrill of seeing her nude, even in a blur, even for a second. "Why am I acting this way?!" He paused for a moment. The voice of reality drowned out the voice of guilt. "Because I think that was the most magnificent ass I've ever seen on a woman in my life." Sam felt wonderful after her morning swim. If she could do this every day, it would be heavenly. She strolled back into the house through the kitchen and seeing that nobody else was up yet, she thought she'd take a shower to rinse the chlorine off and wash her hair. She headed down the hallway of the bedroom wing. She was trying to remember what other movies she'd seen that featured one of the actors from last night's HBO flick. She wasn't keeping track of how many doors she'd passed. Thinking she'd arrived at her bathroom she turned the doorknob and swung the door open. OOPS! Wrong bathroom. It was Gary's. Oh shit he's in here taking a shower. He's got his eyes closed washing his hair. Thank god he's facing away and doesn't see me and didn't realize I opened the door. Gary was turning around as he washed his hair. The shower doors were clear glass. Sam's eyes widened in disbelief. She stifled a gasp and stepped back to close the door as quickly as she could. "Oh my god. Oh my god." she giggled to herself as she raced down the hall to the safety of her bedroom. The image was already burned into her mind. When Gary swung around in the shower he unwittingly revealed to her that he was hung like the proverbial horse. Even flaccid as he had been at that moment, his equipment was abundantly bigger than one of Donald's full fledged erections. Clearly, one very big thing had not been passed on from father to son. "Well, well," she muttered to herself as her hyperactive libido kicked into overdrive, "Just how big do you think Gary gets, girl? Older man. More experienced. If he really knew how to use that thing! If he really knew how to use that thing!" She shook her head. "Sam, you are fucking crazy. You can't go near that man. That's Donald's father. If Donald ever suspected. If Gary ever knew..." Donald and Sam had a week off between the end of exams and the start of their summer jobs. They had planned to laze around the house. Donald couldn't quite figure out what was going on. After his father had gawked at Sam on Saturday, he seemed to start avoiding her. Why? His father always sat by the pool on weekends and Sunday he left the house. And Sam was acting funny too. She kept asking Donald where his father was, like she wanted him to hang out with them. Why'd she keep asking his dad if he wanted to go for a swim? On Monday morning, as soon as Sam heard Gary's car pull out of the driveway, leaving for work, she ran, stark naked, down the hall to Donald's room. He bolted awake as the door burst open. The sheets could not hide his morning erection. She yanked his sheets to the foot of the bed, took one long look at his hard on and threw herself on top of him. Donald panicked, not knowing what time it was, not knowing where his father was. He struggled to try to push Sam off from on top of him. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed. "He may hear us. He could just walk in..." In spite of the surge of fear-induced adrenaline surging through his body, Donald found Sam's strength too much for him to overcome. He twisted and turned and tried shoving with all his might, but Sam just giggled as she kept him pinned on the mattress. "Sam, quit it. I'm telling you. He'll hear us." "The only thing I hear is your voice, whining like a scaredy cat," she laughed. "And I know just how to silence that." Sam grabbed the back of Donald's head and pulled him tightly into her cleavage, enveloping his nose and mouth with her full, incredibly firm breasts. She wrapped her arms around his skull and wouldn't let him move. Sam had learned early on that Donald became extremely aroused whenever she threatened to smother him. And right now she wanted to coax every last millimeter of length from his morning erection. She also knew that he tended to last longer with his morning erection. Nothing to complain about there. Donald was pawing at her hardened biceps, seeking some way of relieving their constricting force. Poor thing was afraid to yell at her to let him breathe because he still thought his dad was home. "He's already left for work, Donald," she laughed as she finally let go of his head. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. "Because I like it better when I know you're trying against me with all your might. And still you don't have a chance. I got you pinned pretty easily didn't I?" "Yes." "And why is that?" "Because you're so fucking strong." he said, resignedly. "Did I hear someone mention the word 'fucking'?" she purred as she sat up and straddled him. She leaned forward and kissed him, a long lingering cock-stiffening tonguing. She slid down his body and prepared to mount him. She tightened her vaginal muscles to make his entry tighter, to create the illusion in her mind and body that his cock was larger than it was. As his cock head began to penetrate her moist labia, she closed her eyes. A single vision filled her head. Gary. In the shower. That big, beautiful prick... Every hour, on the hour, she attacked Donald. She fucked him with a fury he'd never seen before. By mid-afternoon he was completely spent. Exhausted. Unable to get it up even if he'd been transported to a room filled with Sams. When Gary got home that night he couldn't quite figure out why Donald looked so tired and Sam looked so radiant... On Friday morning Sam was walking through the foyer just as the mailman was coming up the driveway. She opened the door and took the pile of bills and weekly flyers and magazines and catalogues. She thumbed through it to see if any of her mail was being transferred to her. Sure enough the next month's issue of MUSCLE MAG was there for her. She thumbed through the rest of the mail. Among the items was one large manila envelope addressed to Gary. The return address was a P.O. Box in Lakewood, California. There was something familiar about that address. She dropped the pile of mail on the hall table and started thumbing through the small space ads in MUSCLE MAG. "Bingo!" she said as she found the ad for L.H. Art. She fought back the temptation to open Gary's envelope to see what was inside, even though she had a very good idea. The ad had a drawing of a buxom super-muscular woman holding a guy helpless in a headlock. It said they sold illustrated stories about amazonically proportioned women, women superior to men. She decided to try to keep her eye on where the envelope went when Gary got home. "So Gary's got the same thing for strong women that Donald does," she thought. "This little envelope in my hand sure seems to say that. Like father, like son. I wonder if Donald knows." She thought for a second. "I'll bet he does! That's why he made sure I made a big muscle for his father. And that's why Gary gave me that funny look. Sure, it all adds up. Now, does Gary know about Donald? That one I haven't a clue. But I know about both of them and they don't know I know. This is going to get interesting..." One of the business perks that Gary rewarded himself with at Goldman Sachs was the occasional half day of work on Fridays, especially during the summer. If there weren't any crises brewing, he could slip out about 1:00. If anything happened they could call him at home and he could conduct just about any business he needed to using the computer, the fax, and the phone. Not knowing whether or not he'd be able to leave early, he hadn't bothered to tell Donald and Sam he might be seeing them early. When he got home about 2:30 he came in through the front door. He thumbed through the stack of mail. He spotted the envelope from L.H. Art and felt a small surge of excitement. It had finally arrived! They'd been slow getting his order out. He made a point not to have any of his videos or stories come to the house when Donald might be home. But he'd screwed up on this order. Well, it was here and it was unopened. He opened it to check that he'd gotten all the stories he'd ordered. Everything was fine. As he strolled through the house to bring his prize package to his bedroom, he could hear the sound of a basketball outside. He chuckled to himself to think that the hoop and court he'd had built for Donald years and years ago, which went largely unused because of his son's lack of interest in sports, was now getting used now that a female was in the house. "Sam is having quite an effect on that boy," he muttered. He walked into the den to see if he could see them. Sure enough, there was Sam and Donald playing one on one. Sam was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Donald was wearing his swimsuit. It took less than a minute for Gary to see that Sam had his son hopelessly outclassed. Her athletic talents were leaving Donald quite literally flat-footed. She could handle the ball much better, drive to the left or the right, and her shooting touch was quite deft. To put it simply, Donald was getting trounced. Gary could see the growing frustration on his son's face. Sam grabbed a rebound and dribbled out to the perimeter of the court. Gary could hear her shout, "Score's 14 to 3. Game's 15. This should do it." She faked to the right, began driving the left lane, and stopped up short. Donald tripped over his own feet and fell on his butt. Sam launched a beautiful fade away 15 foot jump shot. Nothing but net. "I think you're going to need some more practice, honey," Sam said. "C'mon, give me a rematch," Donald proposed. "Why? I just kicked your butt. I'm going to lounge by the pool." Gary watched Sam pull off her t-shirt and shorts, revealing a very sexy bikini. Sam turned and started walking towards the pool area. Donald, not one for good sportsmanship this particular afternoon, picked up the basketball and winged it at Sam. He missed. She spun around, obviously pissed off. "Oh, little boy, I'll teach you..." And with that she started running after Donald, who started running to elude capture. Gary quickly lost sight of them. He raced through the dining room into the kitchen. There they were on the grass. He froze. They were crouched, circling each other. They were wrestling! "My god, she wrestles," he said aloud. There was a familiarity in what they were doing that immediately told Gary that Sam and Donald had wrestled before. And judging by the cool confident expression on Sam's face and the apprehension written all over Donald's, he had a pretty good idea what the outcomes had been. "C'mon Sam, show me what you've got," he whispered to himself. Donald made the first move, charging at Sam and wrapping his arms around her. Gary could tell by the amused expression on Sam's face that Donald was not hurting her. Gary watched her take hold of Donald's arms and pry them off her. He again made a mental note of the disparity in size between Donald and Sam's arms and legs. Sam bent down and got her arms around Donald's waist and lifted him up onto her shoulder. She made it look so easy. Gary knew from his videos that few women could lift a man up with so little effort. Sam spanked his butt a few times and then threw him hard to the lawn. Donald landed on his back and Sam dove on top of him. Gary could see the definition in her back and arms as her muscles swelled with exertion. Donald was exerting himself to the fullest, but could not keep Sam from slamming his wrists to the grass. He squirmed but could not get loose or budge her. Sam got her legs between his and kept his wide apart. The shock of realization that Sam had just pinned his son in less than a minute was hitting Gary. "Christ, she must be strong," he muttered. He watched intently as Sam raised her hips high. She clenched her glutes and it looked like two large steel balls with dimples in the sides. "If you're going to be a sore loser," he could hear her say through the window, "Then I'm going to make sure that you're sore. Because you were already the loser." Suddenly Sam started slamming her pelvis against Donald's upper abdomen and chest, using her hips and legs like pistons, up and down, up and down, two or three times a second. Nearly each thrust drew a gasp or grunt from Donald. She kept slamming into him relentlessly for nearly a minute. Gary thought she must have pounded Donald over 150 times. She stopped. Not from any fatigue, but apparently to assess Donald's condition. Donald was hurting. "Please, Sam, stop." he moaned. "Not yet. I get really pissed when you act like a baby." Gary watched her lift her rear end even higher this time. He held his breath as he watched her tighten her glutes once more. Sam herself grunted as she renewed her hip thrusts. If she'd used enough force to pound Donald before, now she was pulverizing him. He was writhing on the ground, pinned helplessly beneath her powerful arms and legs, absorbing the full force of her battering ram body. It took less than ten blows for him to cry out again. "Please , Sam, please. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. You're hurting me. Please." Sam stood towering over him, clearly pleased with her efforts. She placed her hands on her hips and put one foot on Donald's battered chest. Then she slid her foot down to his crotch and began to rub him. Gary could see from the bulge in Donald's trunks that he was getting an erection quickly, something that happened to Gary the moment he saw Sam lift his son into the air. "When I come back out, you can show me how sorry you are," she said as she spun around and headed straight for the kitchen door. Gary had no chance to retreat. Sam marched in and looked quite surprised to find Gary. "I didn't know you were coming home early," she said. "Summertime perks. I just walked in the door this second," he replied. He did not want to have to say anything to her about what he'd just seen. Sam sensed he was lying because he seemed a bit uncomfortable. "So you missed Donald and me?" she decided to try a leading question. "Well, um, ah, yeah. I guess I did." "Just whipped him 15-3 in b ball," she laughed. Of course he had seen her wrestling Donald. It was written all over his face. She glanced down and immediately spotted two things. One, Gary had the open envelope from L.H. Art in his hands. And two, his trousers were sporting quite a large bulge in front. Oh, wow, had she given him an erection, or was it his L.H. Art stuff? How could she find out how long he'd been in that kitchen? "Would you like to take me on sometime?" she asked, pausing for effect, "In basketball?" Gary had frozen for the split second she'd paused. Then he recovered quickly. "Jeez, I don't know. It's been a while." Gary wanted to get out of the kitchen fast. Had she just seen his hard on? How embarrassing. "Well, I think I'll get changed. You two had lunch yet?" Sam went back outside as Gary retreated to his bedroom. Donald had recovered and was sitting there without his swimsuit on, preparing to show Sam how sorry he was. His erection bobbed with anticipation. Sam looked at it and sighed, knowing she'd just been across the room from a much bigger penis. "You'd better put that thing away," she ordered, "The big guy's home." She was ninety percent sure he'd seen them and her beating Donald had aroused him. But she had to be sure... Saturday morning started sunny and humid. It was going to be a scorcher. Donald was going to be gone most of the day, attending and giving a guest violin performance at the music academy he'd attended before Dartmouth. A morning of rehearsals. An afternoon of performances. Sam had been plotting what she'd do if she had some time alone in the house with Gary, but would he be home? He'd disappeared again yesterday afternoon after the incident in the kitchen. She figured that the way to get Gary to be home was to say she wasn't. So she announced at breakfast that she'd be going to the mall to do some shopping, maybe pick up a few outfits for her internship starting Monday. She made a point of announcing that she wouldn't be back for hours. Gary accepted her story and decided he'd just sit by the pool and work on his tan. Avoiding Sam was making him fade to lily white. Sam spent less than an hour at the mall. She did make one purchase - an outrageously small white thong bikini. Normally she'd never buy a suit that skimpy, but today wasn't normal. She returned home about 11:30 and deliberately parked her car so that Gary's would be blocked. He wasn't sneaking out of the house without her knowing about it. She let herself in the front door and went down the hall to her bedroom. She peeked out the blinds. Gary was at the pool. Maybe now she had him. She slipped out her clothes and put on just enough suntan oil to give her skin a slight sheen. Then she slipped on her brand new thong bikini, carefully adjusting the top to cover her large areolae. One final check in the mirror and showtime! Gary heard the door and looked up. What was she doing home so early? And what was that she was wearing? "You're home early," Gary offered. "I found exactly what I wanted and I asked myself why I was in a mall when I could be basking in the sun here," she replied. "It's nice to see you enjoying your pool again. You haven't been out here in a week." "Well, there have been lots of things to do." "It's going to be too hot to do anything else today, so I hope you'll keep me company. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me." Sam feigned a pouting expression. "What? That's silly. Of course I haven't." Gary wondered why a college girl would want to hang out with her boyfriend's father, but it was obvious she'd noticed he was avoiding her, so he decided he'd better stay put until Donald came home. Sam turned around and started walking towards the pool. Gary spotted the thong back to her bikini, exposing nearly every inch of her perfect ass. The vision of those glutes clenched tight, rearing high above Donald flashed into his brain. He turned his eyes away rather than become aroused. Sam dove in and started doing laps to get loosened up. After a good twenty minute workout, Sam pulled herself out of the pool, deliberately making a big show of adjusting her skimpy bikini. But Gary wasn't watching her. Time to engage him in conversation so he'd have to look. "Gary? I've got an offer for you." Now he was putting down his magazine and looking. "I was thinking how nice you're being letting me stay here this summer and I'm not really contributing anything." Sam began to lean forward very slowly as she reached for her towel. Gary was going to get a good look at her cleavage whether he wanted to or not. "The least I could do it cook a meal or two for you guys. I'm really not bad. In fact I love being in the kitchen. What do you say?" Hold that pose. Give him a good long peek. "Sure. That would be great. But I'll warn you. You'll have to fight me to keep me out of the kitchen. As you hopefully have noticed already, I'm pretty much at home in the kitchen myself." he replied. He hoped she'd stop bending forward like that. Those breasts were distracting him. He didn't want to be caught just staring at her. Sam slipped on a pair of reflector sunglasses and flopped down on her stomach on the chaise beside Gary. They talked about menus and the possibility that Sam might cook the meal tonight or tomorrow. With her sunglasses, he wouldn't be able to know for sure what she was looking at. And right now she was checking out his crotch. There was no question that there was a lot of manhood stuffed into that swimsuit, but judging by what she'd seen in the kitchen yesterday, she wasn't arousing him right now. What was wrong? Here she was, nearly naked and he wasn't getting excited. Maybe it had been his L.H. Art stuff yesterday. Sam excused herself to go into the house to the bathroom. As she was making her way back out through her bedroom she spied her duffel bag full of weights, the same bag Gary had trouble with when she arrived. "It's worth a shot," she said to herself. Sam brought her weights out to the pool and set them down beside her chaise. Gary was engrossed in his reading again. "Hope you don't mind," she said, "But I'm always doing my lifting indoors. I've dreamed of being in Venice Beach being able to pump in the sunshine. Well here's my chance to try it." Gary felt his pulse rate jump. He watched Sam take out four dumbbells. She took the two lighter dumbbells and lay down on the chaise and started doing the workout she did for her bustline - a series of flat and incline presses and flyes. As she worked each muscle group he would be awed by the dramatic increase in size and definition her flexing created. This was a girl who looked large and firm when her muscles were at repose, but when she flexed, wow, there was an awful lot of muscle there. Gary could feel his mouth go dry. Sam could tell that Gary had hardly taken his eyes off her once. As she bent forward this time to perform her triceps extensions, he was not averting his eyes. She studied his crotch. Yes! He was bigger. It was working. Time to try to put him under more strain. Sam put the small dumbbells away and picked up the two large ones. She hoped that Gary could see that they each weighed 50 pounds. Then she stood in front of him and started to alternating curls. The heavy weights would quickly pump her biceps up to the max. "Gary?" she called. "Could I ask for an objective male opinion?" She kept curling. "That sounds like a loaded question, but try me." Sam finished two more curls. She could feel her biceps were fully pumped. She put the dumbbells down. "What I want an opinion on is, do you think these are too big?" She repeated the biceps flexing demonstration she'd done for Gary a week ago. Sam extended one arm, clenched her fist and started bending her arm upwards. Her biceps muscles swelled and elongated, then changed shape, congealing into a massively hard ball. "I wonder if having arms like these, I mean they do measure 16 1/2 inches, do they make me, well you know, less feminine, less appealing?" Gary stared at her arm, awed by the measurement she'd just revealed. "I knew I shouldn't have said try me," he squirmed, "I'm not sure what the politically correct way of saying this is, but let me just say that you have nothing to worry about in the femininity or appeal departments." Sam went into a double biceps pose and Gary felt a rush. "I guess I've always just liked being a big, strong girl and these kind of go with the territory." "Well, they're quite impressive. I'm afraid you put me and Donald to shame." "Thanks, but hey, it's not a contest. You're looking like you're getting really hot Gary. I think I'll cool off myself." Sam was elated. Gary had gotten such a hard on that the inside leg of his swimsuit was being pulled out and she could see the inner lining of the suit peeking out. No matter what had gotten him hard in the kitchen yesterday, her muscles had done the trick today. God, he had such a bulge! Gary, of course, didn't dare stand up. He felt so aroused. She was glorious! Such muscles. Such development. He felt jealous that Donald had experienced the feeling of her power and he hadn't. He watched her turn and walk to the edge of the pool. She stood there and clenched her glutes. God, they're so perfect. Was she doing that on purpose because of yesterday? Did she think he had seen her? Was she reminding him of what she'd done? Then she dove in... For the next couple of hours Gary and Sam just chatted, getting to know each other. They talked not as older man to younger woman, but as adults. Gary was impressed with Sam's intellect, her sharp analysis, her interest in classical music. Sam, in turn, found Gary easy to talk to. He had traveled so much. It was fascinating. She thought she could loosen him up to talk about yesterday. "What do you say I mix us up a little something that will make you feel like you're in the Caribbean?" she asked. Gary agreed. "Mind if I put in a little bit of rum?" "Wouldn't be an island drink without it," he agreed. Sam went to the kitchen, pulled out the blender and mixed a ripe banana, some plain yogurt, lots of ice and four shots of Mount Gay. The fruit and yogurt hid the rum almost completely. "This is delicious," Gary raved. For the second round of drinks, Sam slipped an extra shot of rum into Gary's. By the time he finished it, he wasn't sure if it was the intense sun or whether there was a lot more rum in there than he could taste, but he was feeling very good and very relaxed. Sam didn't seem the least bit tipsy. Maybe this Dartmouth coed could drink a Princeton man under the table. Sam was lying on a float in the pool. Gary dove in, swam up to her and held on to the side of the float. "Enjoying it?" he asked. "This is glorious," she replied, "Perfect." Gary wiggled the float, threatening to tip her over. But rather than be dumped in, Sam rolled off and into the water. "Unh, unh," she laughed, "You don't want to do anything to upset me." They were both treading water in the deep end. "What do you mean?" "You know what I mean. You didn't just walk into the kitchen the moment I did yesterday, did you?" Gary knew he wasn't a very good liar, especially if he'd had anything to drink. Instinctively he started treading toward the shallow end. "Well, okay, you got me. I was home a little while longer." he admitted. "How long?" Sam was following Gary towards the shallow end. "Oh, I'd say from about the time you were up 10 to 2." "Why didn't you say anything?" "I didn't want to embarrass you or Donald." "Well I'm not embarrassed," she assured him. "Look I feel a little guilty that I was kind of spying on you two and I'm not sure that Donald would feel very comfortable knowing his old man had seen him get beaten pretty handily by a female, so what do you say we don't mention this to him?" "I think you're right," Sam replied. Time to take advantage of the situation. "So you think I looked like I handled him pretty easily?" she asked. Again the image of Sam raising her hips and slamming into Donald flashed before Gary. He felt another stirring in his loins and was glad the water came up to his waist. Sam was waiting for an answer. "I don't know how hard he was trying, but I was pretty impressed with how quickly you overpowered him." he answered. Sam stood up completely and waded towards Gary. "He was trying with all his might and you know it," she smiled. She raised her hands behind her head and squeezed the water out of her hair. She was very close to him now. She left her hands behind her head and flexed her massive arms. The muscles ballooned into huge, hard balls. "So are you still impressed?" she asked. Her gaze dropped to just below the water line. Gary looked like he was very impressed, judging by the large bulge she saw. "Sam, we've both had a little bit to drink. I'm not quite sure what's going on here." Gary said. "I'll disregard the fact that you didn't answer my question, Gary," she smiled. "Maybe you'll have a better idea of what's going on when I tell you a little secret. Kind of like the one we're keeping from Donald. Well, I'm kind of impressed with you, too." Gary looked surprised. "Something I saw." Sam took a tantalizing step closer to him. "My secret, and you can't tell Donald either, is that I accidentally, and please believe me it was an accident, I walked into your bathroom Sunday when you were showering. You have the biggest most beautiful cock. Donald might be embarrassed if he knew I knew you were so much bigger than he is." "Oh no, Sam, this has to stop." Gary backed up to the edge of the pool. "What has to stop? Is there anything wrong with my finding you attractive? I'm not married to Donald. I'm just dating him. I can have relationships with other men. Come on Gary, you think I'm blind? What's that bulge doing down there? You can't deny you find me attractive too." Sam chuckled softly and again stepped close to Gary. "No! He's my son. I can't get involved." "Do you think you can stop me?" "What do you mean?" "Why do you keep asking me what I mean when you know exactly what I'm talking about?" Sam raised her arms into a double biceps pose, flexing as hard as she could. "You're not strong enough to stop me." Gary spun around and started to hoist himself out of the pool. But before he even got halfway he felt Sam grabbing the rear waistband of his swimsuit. She yanked him back into the pool. He felt her hands slide onto one arm and just under his butt and then suddenly he was being lifted right out of the water and being put on her shoulder. Then, splash! Sam deliberately fell backwards, dunking them both under the water. Gary got back to his feet. Sam was already standing, grinning. "I think I know what the problem is," she said. "You feel that if anything happens between us it'll somehow be your cheating on your son. I sort of understand it even though I don't agree with it. The relationships are between me and Donald and me and you, not you and Donald. But you'll feel guilty if you freely consent to doing anything with me. So I'll just have to force you to do what I want. If Donald found anything out, you can look him in the eye and say I forced you. He can't argue with you. He can't say it couldn't happen, because I do it to him. You interrupted us yesterday. Usually after I beat Donald, I dictate how he must pleasure me." Sam's candor was unnerving Gary. He had no idea what to do. Standing a few feet away was a woman so strong she had to use barely more than one arm to lift him off his feet. She was taller, heavier, far more muscular and, he had to believe, far stronger. An amazon fantasy in the flesh. Yes, he desired her. But it just didn't seem right. "No, Sam," Gary replied. "I can't deny that I find you very attractive. Physically you may be the most extraordinary creature I've ever seen. And there's a part of me that would love to feel just how strong you are. And I'm more than flattered that a woman your age would find me attractive. But we can't have an affair. It would make things so uncomfortable around here. I'm trying to get to know my son better, not drive him crazy." "Get to know him? If it weren't for me you'd never have known he's got the same thing for strong women that you do. How do you know how he'll react when you don't really know him?" Gary could not respond. "Gary, leave it all to me." She started wading towards him. He raised his hands up in front of him. "Good. Defend yourself. Hey, maybe you're stronger than Donald. I'll tell you one thing. The part of you that wants to find out how strong I am is about to find out." Sam swatted Gary's hands aside and wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him tight against her. Their bodies collided and the battle was on. Gary had always dreamed of, but never had the chance to wrestle a superwoman before. He was going to try with all his might. Part of it was honor. Part of it was his most secret fantasy. Gary grabbed hold of the thick slabs of deltoid muscle that capped her broad shoulders. He pushed, hoping to make a quick break. The water and suntan oil on his skin made him slippery and Sam couldn't hold him. Gary again tried to get out of the pool. This time Sam yanked his swimsuit down to his ankles. Gary muttered, "Oh shit." His penis, finally liberated from the tight confines of his suit, immediately started growing more. Sam climbed out of the pool, wanting to get a better view. Gary was trying to pull his suit back up, but he was having trouble keeping his balance. His cock kept getting longer, harder and more erect. Both Gary and Sam realized that his suit wasn't going to be able to cover his cock anymore. Sam tackled Gary, driving them both into the pool again. As he struggled to get to the surface and get to his feet, he could feel her yanking his suit down again. This time it came all the way off. Gary regained his footing just as Sam got hers. Again he turned to try to exit the pool. Sam dove underneath and with a couple of powerful strokes caught up to him. He felt her head parting his thighs and her arms wrapping around his legs. Then, whoosh! She stood up and Gary was riding on her shoulders. "Put me down, Sam" Gary barked. "Exactly what I had in mind. After I carry you out of the pool. I warn you though, you try to get off me right now and you could fall and end up cracking your skull." Gary was astonished by the ease with which Sam waded to the edge and carried him up the steps. She walked over to the grass and bent forward, somersaulting Gary onto the thick lawn. Gary had barely gotten to a sitting position when he sensed Sam behind him and realized she was sliding her monumental thighs around his sides. "Oh no!" he exclaimed, trying to bolt to his feet. But it was too late. The trap was set. He was imprisoned between her hard legs. His hands grabbed the dense slabs and tried to loosen their vise grip. "Seems like you have more than an inkling of how much trouble you're in right now," she chuckled. "I could just lie back, work on my tan, and squeeze until you snap." She gave Gary a quick sharp jolt. "Unngggh!" he moaned. Sam lay back on the grass, pleased with the speed with which she'd subdued Gary. Now she had to plan her strategy carefully, balancing physical dominance and sexual arousal so that Gary would bend to her every wish. Feeling his hands on her thighs was turning her on more. She started increasing the pressure on Gary, bit by bit. "Oh shit that hurts," he moaned. "Your legs are so strong." "This is only about half of what I'm capable of," she advised. "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take," he grunted. "Oh I'm just getting warmed up here," she replied. "I think it would be fun to wrestle you until you completely submit. You certainly enjoyed watching what I did to Donald, so I'm sure you want to experience it all for yourself." "AARRGGGHHHH! OK. I give. I give." Gary exclaimed as Sam jolted him with rapid bursts of extreme pressure. Suddenly she parted her thighs and Gary was free. He rolled sideways and got to his feet. The thought of running away flashed before him, but he dismissed it as futile. He would have to wrestle Sam and hope that he could prevent her from forcing him to have sex with her. "I don't know how, but I'll figure out a way of stopping you," Gary declared as he began to cautiously circle Samantha. She was happy that he was going to try to wrestle her. The plan was working! Sam noticed that her body scissors had partially diminished Gary's erection. But she relished the prospect of making Gary's penis get big again. Like a snake uncoiling, it was a most provocative sight. All she figured she needed was a minor clothing adjustment to get the blood flowing back where it belonged. She peeled her top off and tossed it at Gary's face. "Maybe you'll want to try tying me up with that," she grinned, "Although I could still probably beat you with both arms tied behind my back." She stood up straight and put her hands behind her. Gary wasn't sure if his eyes were fooling him. How could her breasts do that? Such roundness. Such fullness. Such incredible uplift. Her breasts sat so high on her chest her nipples pointed upwards. Perfect breasts to go along with her perfect ass. He knew he was going to get hard again. That would be sending out the wrong signal! Time to do something fast! End of Part One. ÷ 1995 All rights reserved.