MY LITTLE (SIGH) SISTER
by Mark (Marknew742@aol.com)
Wendy's younger, but she has real potential.

It all started a couple of years ago, when I was sixteen and she
was fourteen.  I was entering my junior year in high school and
Wendy was a sophomore.  I had just gotten over the tough part and
was excited about being one of the "older" guys in school.  Our
school had the best tennis program in the county, and the top
three seeds on the tennis team had just graduated.  I would have
two years of ranking play for our school, some trophies and a lot
of days giving "lessons" to the girls.  College didn't worry me. 
It was two years away, and anyway I expected a tennis scholarship
to one of the Ivies.  I didn't care which one.

I was also on the track team as a long jumper.  Don't get the
wrong idea.  I'm not a jock, but I'm well coordinated and I make
the most of my physique.  It doesn't take me long to master any
sport that requires technique as much as or more than strength. 
That's why I'll probably turn to golf when I get older, but for
now, my ticket is tennis, with track to keep me in shape for the
off season.

Over the summer, the team's shut putter dropped off the squad and
the coach was looking for volunteers to pick it up.  No one
offered, so he chose me.  We worked together for a few days on
the motions and I picked it up pretty well, but it was clear that
in this sport, no matter how good my technique was, I would not
win any competitions unless I was stronger.  

Frankly, I didn't care.  I would have been just as happy to drop
it.  But the coach started talking enthusiastically to my Dad
about my form, urging him to do something to help me develop my
strength.  I could just imagine what went through Dad's mind. 
First I'd start to work out with weights.  I'd like it so much
that I'd drop tennis and start playing a real man's sport,
football.  The next thing, I would be starting quarterback at
Yale, where he went to school, and he'd be the big man at
homecoming, where I'd win the game.

The next thing I knew Mom and Dad had bought me this amazing,
high tech weight machine for my birthday.  They installed it in
the basement, along with a whole library of books on weight
training, nutrition, and, of course, football.  I tried it once
or twice, but I quickly got bored with it.  I like being
outdoors, which is why I like track, and I like the strategy of
tennis competition, but the weights just seemed like work, dull
work.  Fortunately, a transfer came into school who liked the
shot put, and I was off the hook.  I put the weight machine out
of my mind and spent my time working on my running and my serve. 
Oh yes, and Brianna, my new girlfriend, a freshman who was very
advanced for her age, although no one would ever call her bright.

My sister Wendy was a freshman too.  She's an odd one, very
different from the rest of the family.  My Dad and I are tall and
slender.  My Mom is just a bit shorter than Dad, large-boned, but
still not what you would call big.  Wendy was a throwback. 
Everything about her was thick; her face, her neck, her arms,
legs.  She was always bulky.  Her face wasn't ugly or anything,
but she was always just too big to be graceful.  Like all big
brothers, I teased her a lot, and probably as a result, she never
did anything athletic and didn't have many friends.  She'd just
hang around the house a lot, watch TV and brood.  I wouldn't say
we were very close.

One day, soon after the school year started, I brought Brianna
and my friend Bobby home to watch some television.  Wendy was
there in her usual sweatshirt, eating a bowl of M&Ms, and the
contrast between her and Brianna's appearances couldn't have been
more striking.  Brianna, I should add, was about five foot six
with a tiny waist, narrow hips and round, juicy tits, and she
always wore something tight on top that made them stand out from
her trim figure all the more.  I could hardly keep my hands off
her, and except when she wanted to tease me, she let me play with
her as much as I wanted.  She would run her hands all over my
body too, especially my chest and arms.  I guessed she liked
guys' muscles, and even though mine weren't very big, they were
pretty firm.

So there we were in our den, me sitting on the couch, Brianna on
my lap with my hands all over her, Bobby over at the other end,
drooling and jealous as all hell, and Wendy in the easy chair,
all watching an old sitcom, when Brianna turns to Wendy and
starts telling her about how she could improve her appearance.

"You know, Wendy, they have these really great stores for big
women.  The fashions are just like what they have in the regular
stores, and you would really look a lot better if you wore, you
know, more feminine clothes."

Wendy looked over in disgust.  "Why would I want to do that, so I
can have some slob like my brother with his paws all over me?"

"I think it would make you a happier person.  I really do.  I'll
go shopping with you.  I really know a lot about fashion, you
know."

"Give me a break, Brianna.  The only thing you know about fashion
is how to buy tops that are two sizes too small for your tits."

Brianna's eyes went wide at that comment.  I tried to interject
to cool them down, but soon they were going back and forth.

"Oh yeah?  At least I got some.  You got a figure like a tree
trunk.  You'll never be a 34-22-29 like me."

"I'm glad you can recite some numbers.  I bet those are the only
ones you know, dimwit."

"I'm not stupid.  I know how to take care of myself, at least."

"Brianna scored a point on you there," I chipped in.  "You don't
even exercise."

She looked at me with cold hatred.  "So you're going to start
too?  Well, you are going to regret that, brother.  As a matter
of fact, Mom and I had a very interesting discussion today, and
I've started using the weight machine they bought for you."

"That's great Wendy.  I didn't know.  If you need any...."

"I don't want any help from you or from your bimbo girlfriend. 
You and everybody else who thinks I'm such a slob, a blimp.  I'll
show you."  She hauled herself up and strode out of the room and
downstairs.  Bobby watched her all the way out of the room.  We
heard the clank of the weight machine.  Brianna rolled her eyes
at the ceiling and settled back into my lap, wiggling her tight
ass against me.  I almost came in my pants.

After that afternoon, Brianna didn't want to come over my house
much, so we'd hang out at her house, or in whatever car I could
get my hand on.  Between the track meet schedule and Brianna I
was rarely home.  I wondered about what Mom could have said to
Wendy to make her start working out, but it wasn't exactly the
most important thing on my mind.

A few months later, I got my first surprise.  We just had the big
pep rally for the football team.  Brianna and I were still going
together, but things were definitely a bit cooler than they were
at first.  Bobby was hanging out with us, and as we were leaving
we saw Wendy all by herself in the corner of the gym, dressed in
her usual sweats.  Brianna turned to me and said, "There's your
blobby sister, Johnny.  Let's see what she's up to."  The three
of us walked over to her and Brianna, who was really in a bitchy
mood, said, "Still doing your weightlifting Wendy?  I still think
you need some fashion tips."

Wendy glared at her, but Brianna didn't pay any attention.  She
just edged closer and closer and took some of Wendy's hair in her
hand.  "Your hair too.  I think I could get someone to really to
something nicer with it, you know, with a flip or something in
the back.  It's really thick and nice, but you get it cut worse
than the boys do.  Don't you know anything about...."

Wendy snarled and grabbed Brianna's hand, twisting it down
sharply.  "Don't touch me.  I don't like you."

"Owww! You're hurting me.  Stop.  Johnny, make her stop," Brianna
wailed.  

I guess Bobby was closer, and he took Wendy's hand and tried to
pull her off Brianna, but he's kind of a slight guy and Wendy
turned and bumped him away with her hip.  She must have had a
good thirty pounds on him and he skidded to the floor.

"Wendy, leave her alone, before I whack you," I ordered.  She
looked at me, jut her chin out and let go, but not before she
gave Brianna's ass a loud slap that left her whimpering and then
running off crying.

"I let go because I wanted to, not because you told me.  Don't
think you can order me around, big brother.  I haven't
forgotten."  And she turned on her heel and walked away.

I helped Bobby up.  "Are you alright?"

"Yeah.  Jeez.  Your sister is pretty strong."

"No she isn't.  She just weighs a lot."

Bobby shrugged his shoulders.  I noticed though that he kept
looking around for her the rest of the night.

The next morning was a little tense at breakfast.  Mom and Dad
were away for awhile;  they had left Wendy and me alone together
before, but never for a whole month.  I was trying hard not to
fight with her, and I could see that Wendy wanted to tell me
something, and couldn't decide whether to do it.  Finally, I told
her I was tired of the way she was acting and she should just say
what was on her mind.  She smirked, shook her head and walked
away, then abruptly turned back.

"Let's arm wrestle."

"Is that all you wanted?  Sure anytime."

"For money."

"Sure, are you crazy?"

"No.  I've been working out."

"Sure you have.  I'm a boy and I'm older than you.  How much?"

"A thousand dollars."

"You are crazy.  Neither of us has that kind of money."

"I do."

"Oh yeah?  How?"

"I'm not telling, yet."

"Well, I don't have it, but it doesn't matter, cause I'm going to
beat you.  Let's go."

"Wait, one condition."

"Ha.  I knew it.  What?"

"You have to agree to four matches.  Same bet.  One a week, 'til
Mom and Dad come home."

I shook my head.  "Well that's four times as good for me.  You're
on."

We locked our arms.  I said go, and we started pushing.  Right
from the start, I realized I had underestimated her.  Her arm was
thick, but it wasn't all fat as I had thought.  I pushed her down
part of the way, but then she started pushing harder and she
stopped me cold, even though she was pushing up.  I got worried
and really poured it on and soon had her almost pinned when she
made another big push and almost got us back to even. 
Fortunately, her arm was tiring and after fifteen seconds of
putting on more pressure, I pinned her arm against the table.  I
looked at her with a little bit of alarm.

"How'd you get so strong?"

"I told you I've been working out, and I have a secret too."

"What is it?  Are you taking steroids or something?"

"Nope.  But I'm going to keep working hard, and if you want to
beat me next week, you better do it too."  Then she reached into
her pocket and pulled out ten crisp hundred dollar bills.  "Don't
spend them.  You may need them to pay me back next week."  Then
she got up and went downstairs.

I was shocked.  I never even expected it to be close.  On the
other hand, I had won, and I stood the chance of making four
grand in a month, a lot more money than I had ever seen before,
so I decided I'd take her advice.  I didn't want to let her know
I was working out, though, so I went to the gym at school and
used the machine there.  I was sore the first couple of days, but
by the end of the first week I was starting to increase the
weights I was using.  I figured I had her cold for the next
match.

But it didn't go that way.  She pushed at the beginning, before I
was really ready, and pinned me almost a second after the match
started.  I cried foul, but she said fast starts were part of the
game, unless one of the contestants declared them out.  We argued
awhile, but she pulled out the official rule book of the Petaluma
Arm Wrestling Tournament, which clearly showed she was right, so
I let her have her thousand dollars back, which I had wisely
preserved.  We agreed that in next week's match any pin in the
first ten seconds would not count.

I worked harder than ever the next week.  I was amazed at how
quickly the weight training affected my body.  It wasn't nearly
as boring when I had this goal in mind, and I was determined to
clear that last two thousand dollars, although I was worried
about what other tricks she might come up with.  So I did some
research and practiced my holds and leverage on my track coach,
who was very pleased that I had taken up weight training.  "It
will help you in all sorts of areas, even your serve.  You'll
see."  I nodded.  At this point, I didn't care about that. 
Wherever Wendy had gotten her money, I wanted her two thousand
dollars.

The day before the next match, Wendy made a strange suggestion. 
She said I should bring Brianna and Bobby over to watch.  So that
Saturday morning, the two of them sat on the couch of our TV
room, while Wendy and I locked arms for the third time.  I was
really psyched up for it.  I could feel my new muscles ready for
action, and I showed off my body in a tank top, even though it
was November.  Wendy wore her typical sweatshirt.  Bobby set our
arms on top, Brianna said go and we were off.

With the new rules, I built up slowly, so as not to waste my
strength, and as I put on the pressure, Wendy matched me push for
push.  I was nearing my peak pressure, and still her arm wasn't
budging.

Just then, Brianna piped in, "Come on already, stop playing
around.  Beat her."

Wendy scowled and then, incredibly, started pushing my hand down. 
I couldn't believe it, so I powered up my arm and slowed her
down, but she was still winning.  She had my hand halfway to the
table and then she eased up a little, or maybe she got tired, and
I started pushing back as hard as I could.  My bicep was fully
pumped.  Even I couldn't believe how large it was, and yet I
wasn't getting anywhere.  I could feel the lactic acid building
up in my arm, yet she was still pouring on the pressure. 
Finally, I gave up, and she smashed my arm against the table,
raised her other fist and shouted, "Ha!  I did it!  Pay up big
brother."

Now I was cooked.  Where was I going to get that kind of money? 
But even worse, how did my little sister get to be so strong?

Brianna was disgusted with me and stood up to leave.  "You mean,
she's stronger than you?  I don't believe it.  What kind of guy
loses to his kid sister in arm wrestling?"

"Don't go yet, Brianna.  I have something I want to show you. She
pulled off her sweatshirt and pants, and underneath she was
totally different than I'd ever seen her.  Her waist was smaller,
not as tiny as Brianna's, but still a girl's waist, and her hips
flared out like a mature woman's, flowing into a pair of shapely,
muscular thighs.  On top, her waist exploded into a deep chest,
where her small breasts sat proudly under her t-shirt.  And her
arms.  I couldn't believe the size and definition of her muscle.

"What do you think, guys?  Do I look better now?"

Bobby practically flew off the couch, kneeling at Wendy's feet. 
"Wendy," he said softly, "would you let me touch them?  They're
beautiful."

"Of course you may, Bobby."  She lifted him up to his feet and
put his hand on her bicep and flexed it for him.  

"Oh my god, Wendy, they're so hard and heavy.  I just love them."

"Bobby, are you crazy?"

"Shut up Johnny.  He's not crazy.  They are beautiful, and
special.  What do you think Brianna?  Do you want to feel them
too?"

Brianna nodded, shyly, and walked over to Wendy, not looking at
me.  She put her hand on Wendy's other arm and lightly traced her
fingers around her bicep, then up to her shoulder and down her
chest, gently massaging Wendy's breast, then she wrapped her
other arm around Wendy's back, burying her head in Wendy's
powerful neck.  Wendy smiled at me.  "I'll be busy for awhile,
Johnny.  Why don't you get started on your training for next
week?  You can pay up then."  She knelt down a little to put her
hands under the bottoms of my best friend and my girlfriend, and
carried them upstairs to her room.

I was in complete shock, but what could I do against the mountain
of muscle my sister had become?  I trained hard all week at
school, but each day when I came home I could hear the clanging
of the weights downstairs, like the forging of a powerful weapon
aimed right at me.  I could only hope that my hormones would help
me counteract the head start she'd gotten on training.

Saturday came.  I had increased the weights I used, so I had some
hope, but when I saw Wendy come out wearing a jogging bra and
shorts, I knew I was doomed.  She had gotten even larger in the
last week, and the oil Brianna rubbed lovingly on her muscles
made her look even more menacing.  The two of them sat on the
couch, mesmerized by their goddess.  As we gripped hands, I could
see that the thick mass of power coiled in her arm was fully
primed to crush me.  Brianna told us to start and I began
pushing, but I could see that Wendy was hardly even flexing her
muscle even as I was giving my all.  As soon as the ten seconds
had elapsed, I saw a surge of tension ripple through her arm, and
I was pinned.

"That was so easy, Johnny.  Oh, things around here will sure be
different."  She took my arm and twisted it behind my back. 
"Remember how you used to do this to me?  How you tickled me for
hours on end?"  She poked me in the hip and started squeezing
with her powerful fingers.  "I'm really looking forward to your
last two years in high school."

"Stop, Wendy, please stop.  I hate being tickled."

She tickled me more, now holding both my arms and dangling her
iron hands over my most sensitive parts, taunting me with her
dominance.  The Brianna walked over and took her hand, kissing it
and then running her lips up and down Wendy's arm, filling her
mouth with Wendy's muscle and then licking it.

I gasped for breath.  "But how did this happen?"

"It's all very plain.  Dad's not my father.  When you were a year
old, Mom and Dad took a trip to the Soviet Union, where Dad had
some construction business.  One of the tours Mom took was of a
Russian athletic training camp, where she met a champion power
lifter and had an affair with him.  He's my father, a man who was
one of the strongest men in the world, and I have his genes.  He
left Russia years ago and founded a health club business in
Europe and became extremely wealthy."

"I don't believe it.  Does Dad know?"

"Mom told him after she told me.  They've been in Vegas to get a
divorce.  Dad's not coming back."

"I'm in shock."

"Poor Johnny.  Don't worry.  I'm sure the work you've done on the
weight machines will help you in the sports you like.  And I'll
spot you the two thousand dollars for awhile, but you'll have to
do a few tasks for me, now and then.  I'm sure you won't mind
making my bed right now and cleaning up before Mom comes home,
while my friends and I have some fun in the basement."  She held
her fist in front of my face.  "Would you Johnny?"


PART TWO

The next week was hell for me.  Mom came home, but with Dad gone
she had to work full time and she was never around.  There was no
point anymore trying to hide my workouts from Wendy.  I lifted
the weights like I was possessed, spending all of my free time in
the basement, trying to build myself up.  But it was no use. 
Sure I got results.  As the days went by, I started to add weight
to each of my routines.  But as Wendy said, she had the edge on
me with her Dad's genes.  Spending less than half the time I did
on the workouts, she seemed to add muscle and strength even
faster than me.  And although her biceps already measured over
fifteen inches, she wanted more, and she kept working her body,
widening her advantage over me.

It was about four weeks after the last arm-wrestling match.  I
was working out when I heard Wendy come in, followed by Bobby and
Brianna.  I heard them giggle and then all three of them trooped
down the stairs.

"You're working so hard, Johnny, I thought I'd give you an
audience to inspire you."

"You're looking really good, John, I mean, I didn't think you had
it in you."

"Shut up Bobby.  I know Wendy's bigger.  I can't believe you,
hanging around her like you're her lapdog."  

"It's not like that at all Johnny.  I like it.  Wendy's muscles
are beautiful, more so than any of those girls in the magazines
we used to cop.  She lets me touch them and she makes them really
hard for me whenever I want.  Right Wendy?"  Wendy smiled.  "And
she just keeps getting bigger all the time.  Well, you can see
that.  Her muscles are *alive*, Johnny, and they can do things. 
It's different from tits.  I'll never go back to girls without
muscles, and I'll never leave Wendy, s'long as she'll have me."

"Oh, you sweet boy.  Come sit on my shoulder Bobby baby."  She
picked him up with one arm and he sat there, contentedly running
his hand along her arm and her back.

Brianna watched me.  "You know, Wendy can lift twice as much as
you can now.  It's so funny."  She giggled.

I glared at her.  "I can't believe you, Brianna.  If I'd known
you were a closet lesbo, I never would have gotten involved with
you.  I oughta tell a few people at school, or maybe your
parents.  They'd never let you see Wendy again."  

She burst out crying, and Wendy comforted her.  "Don't worry, he
wouldn't dare to any of those things, at least not while I'm
around.  She picked Brianna up, put her over her shoulder like a
baby, and walked over to me.  "I think it's time I taught you
some respect.  As if owing me two grand isn't enough for you."

She put her free hand on my shoulder and started squeezing it,
pushing me down at the same time.  I couldn't believe the pain. I
tried to resist, but standing up was twisting my back, so I sunk
to my knees.

While she was holding me down, she let Bobby and Brianna slip off
her shoulders.  "Watch this sweethearts, and then you won't have
to worry about him making rude comments any more."

She unbuttoned her skirt and let it drop to the ground, revealing
some loose shorts underneath and the widest muscles I had ever
seen.  "I always had big legs, Johnny, and even I thought they
were mostly fat.  That's why I'd never let anyone see them
before.  But just see what these legs can do."

She sat on my stomach and twisted her legs around my midsection. 
I groaned, "Man you're heavy!"

"That's 170 pounds, brother.  Pure muscle.  But that's nothing
compared to what you're about to feel."

She started tightening her grip, squeezing the air out of my
lungs.  "Hey, what are you doing?"  I grabbed her calves and
tried to loosen her grip, but I was no longer a match for her in
arm wrestling, and my efforts against her massive legs were even
more futile.

"Your wasting precious air, dear brother.  I don't think I'll do
you any permanent damage.  I just want to give you something to
remember when you think about abusing my friends."  She tightened
further, my stomach muscles giving way under the force of her
power.  Her legs felt like two steel beams pressing to meet
somewhere inside my rib cage.

"This is far enough.  I can hold this position all day if I want. 
Now, will you ever, ever tease poor Brianna again?"

I shook my head.

"I'm sure Bobby can take care of himself, but remember what
stands behind him, dear brother."

Just then, she gave me another squeeze and I blacked out.  When I
came to, they were gone.

Wendy did all she could to try to show me up.  Mom tried to get
her to stop, but she was tired most of the time, and sometimes
she even made it worse.  The worst day came when it was time to
clean out the porch and put the summer stuff out.  I usually got
out of the cleaning by moving the heavy stuff, but this year,
Wendy insisted that I do the dusting and mopping.

"No way!  That's your job."

"Only because you used to be stronger.  Now since I am, I'm going
to do it."

"Mom!"

"Well, Johnny, Wendy has a point.  We should do the job in the
most efficient way.  Why don't we go out to the garage and see
who can move the furniture faster?"

Wendy snorted.  "It's obvious, Mom.  Look."  She quickly stacked
two of the larger chairs on top of a table and lifted it.  "See,
I can move three pieces at once.  I could get my part done in no
time."

"That's very good Wendy.  Johnny?  Can you do that?"

Wendy put the pile down in front of me with a smirk.  I could
barely get them off the ground and then dropped them, one of the
chairs rolling off and hitting the garage wall.

"Johnny!  Those are valuable chairs.  You aren't strong enough to
do this job as quickly as Wendy, so you'll have to do the
cleaning."

"Mom!  Well, then she has to help when she finishes."

"No, we've never done it that way."

"Wendy's right, Johnny.  "I'm afraid you have the longer job
today.  Be sure to get all the corners.  And Wendy, please don't
tease your brother so much.  It isn't easy for him being weaker
than you."

Wendy said ok and smiled at Mom, but when Mom got distracted
looking at the damage I'd done to the chair, Wendy stuck her
tongue out at me and showed off her ever-growing biceps.  I
turned and stomped out to the porch, but Mom called me back.

"Kids, I guess there's no good time to tell you these things, but
there will be a few more changes around here.  Johnny, your
father has gone off to Saudi Arabia for three years on some oil
project.  The divorce has gone through.  Everything is amicable
of course, but I'm not going to talk about it."  She paused for a
few moments and then cleared her throat.  "There's something
else.  Sergei, Wendy's real father, will be coming to America for
awhile.  I've invited him and his daughter to stay with us."

"His daughter!  You mean I have a sister, Mom?"

"Yes, dear.  I'm afraid Sergei has been a little careless.  He
has a few children here and there.  Most of them live with their
mothers, but Natasha was too much for her mother to handle, so
she's been with Sergei for the past year or so.  She's seventeen,
a little older than Johnny, but she'll be attending school as a
sophomore.  I hope you won't mind sharing a room with her,
Wendy."

"Oh no, it will be great!"

"Johnny?  You're not saying anything.  I know this is hard for
you."

There were tears in my eyes.  "You bet it's hard.  I can't
believe Dad just left, just like that.  I ....  And now this
strange man coming to ...."

Wendy's nostrils flared.  "Don't you dare call my father strange. 
I lived with yours for years.  You just have to get used to it."

"Wendy!  Be more understanding of your brother's feelings.  Now
Johnny, you just have a couple more years to live here before you
go away to college.  But for me, this is an important change in
my life.  Sergei and I, well, when you're older...."

"You mean, you and he ...."

"Well, yes, dear.  It's hard for me to talk about with my
children, but yes."  Her eyes grew moist and unfocused, and she
said in a lower voice.  "He's a very dynamic man, and I...."  She
blushed.  "I guess I really shouldn't talk about these things
with my children."

"Oh ma!  That's terrific for you!"  Wendy looked over to me. 
"You should be happy for Mom, being in love at her age."  Mom
shot her a look.  "Oh, I know Mom; you're not so old, but to me,
well, anyway, I get my real Dad, and a sister.  What a day, and I
don't even have to clean!"  She picked up the pile of furniture
and marched out of the garage, whistling.

Sergei arrived two weeks later.  He was a huge man, over 6'5",
with massive arms and a barrel chest.  Everything he did was
outsized.  He could eat a three pound steak as an appetizer, down
a six pack of beer in a minute and then belch for twenty seconds. 
I thought he was gross, but Mom seemed infatuated with him.  I
quickly guessed why.  Mom had me take him to the gym so that we
could have a little man-to-man time.  It was a complete waste,
from my perspective.  All Sergei cared about was eating and
screwing, and money, of course, and since he was screwing my
mother and giving his money to everyone in the family but me, I
lost interest pretty quickly.  But in the locker room, I got a
look at his whole body and I could see that not only did he have
muscles the size of Mother Russia, he was also endowed like a
horse.  Some guys don't need charm, I guess.

Because of some visa problems, Natasha was set to arrive a few
days later.  For all my complaining, I was not entirely unhappy
to have an unrelated teenage girl living in the house, especially
after I saw her picture.  Granted it was just from the neck up,
but she was a beauty, with dark hair, high cheekbones and glowing
green eyes, like some Cossack princess.  Given the delicacy of
her features, I figured she took more from her mother than
Sergei.

Unfortunately I had a tennis match the day she arrived.  I got
home after dinner, and with the time change, she had already gone
to bed.  She was still sleeping when I left for school the next
morning, and then was out with Wendy when I returned.  That was
the last thing I wanted, for Wendy to get to her first and poison
the well before I could get to know her.  But I was tired from my
match, and I ended up crashing before they came back.  

The suspense was killing me.  The next morning was Saturday and
when I woke up, I was determined not to miss her.  Unbelievably,
Wendy's room was already empty.  The house was quiet, so I took
the opportunity to look around.  The room was pretty neat.  Wendy
hated to shop, and she had willingly given Natasha a lot of
space.  The closet door was slightly open and although it was
dark I could see there were tons of new clothes hanging up.  I
knew Natasha had enough money to dress, and now I could see she
liked to look good.  I quietly opened the dresser and put my hand
on a large pile of silky, slinky underwear.  This was looking
better all the time.  I pulled one of the bras out, excited by
its feel, and its size.  Man, I bet I have a real sexpot living
here, I thought.  Just then I heard someone clearing her throat.

"So you like my underwear I see.  Do you like to put it on or
take it off?"

I turned around and there she was, standing at the door.  My
mouth dropped open.  She was gorgeous, and busty, and very, very
big, at least six inches taller than I.  She wore a loose-fitting
blouse made of a shiny material, clearly showing the stresses
made by her huge chest, but draped loosely around the rest of
her.  She shut the door and walked quickly across the room, her
long-skirted legs devouring the distance between us in no time at
all, until I was staring directly into her large breasts.  She
snatched the bra out of my hand with one hand and then playfully
slapped me on the chest with the other, the force of her blow
knocking me onto the bed.

"Tsk, tsk.  You Americans are so soft.  Letting a mere girl push
you around so easily."  She brushed her fingernails against her
blouse, pretending to polish them, and then looked down at her
arm.  "Then again, I suppose I am not exactly ordinary."  Looking
down at her bent arm, she tightened her arm, and an enormous
muscle erupted underneath her sleeve, stretching the material
there just as her breasts pushed out her blouse over her chest. 
"Wendy tells me you don't like muscles on a girl.  Such a shame. 
Living so close we could have a lot of fun."

I looked up at her, barely able to keep my eyes away from her
huge chest.  "Well, you can't believe everything my sister says. 
For example...."

She raised her eyebrows and sat down next to me, stroking my hair
with her large hands.  "I don't want to hear your example.  I
like Wendy.  She has a lot of heart, for an American, and I can
see my father in her.  Now, I will consider whether I like you,
but I warn you I can be very demanding."  She put her hand on my
chest and with the other started to unbutton my pants.

"Hey, what are you doing?"  I struggled to get up, but her large
hand held me firmly against the bed while she proceeded to unzip
my pants and slip her hand inside my briefs.

"What's the matter?  You don't like it when a woman handles you? 
You're a nice size, very firm and thick down there.  I think
you'll do well.  But what about me, do you like my body?  I can
see you like my breasts.  Boys are so silly!  You'd think you
were still infants crying for nourishment from your mothers!  As
for me, well, I'm glad I'm strong enough to carry them around. 
Otherwise, they're of no use to me until I start my family.   But
as for these (she pointed to her biceps), they come in handy
every day.  Just watch me."

She took her hand off my chest and moved a half step back from
the bed, holding her arms up at her sides.  She concentrated for
a minute then started to tense herself.  Incredibly, her whole
body began to expand, the muscles filling up her shirt until it
strained against the buttons in front, then, one by one, top to
bottom, they began to pop, some flying off her shirt, some just
slipping through the buttonholes, until her shirt was open, her
mammoth chest and breasts extending far in front of her rippled
waist. Then she slowly flexed her arms and the fabric of the
shirt sleeves stretched and tore, leaving gaping rents through
which her blood-engorged skin peeked.  As I gazed at the
mountains rising from her arms, she turned her attention to the
lower half of her body and with her stomach muscles alone tore
through the skirt waist and opened the seam on the side, letting
it drop to the floor to reveal the thickest legs I had ever seen. 


"I just love to do that in front of men!  It is a good thing I
can buy all the clothing I want, thanks to my father.  So what do
you think, Johnny.  From what I can see you are interested, no?"

My mouth must have been hanging open, because when I tried to
speak it was all dry, but I quickly found my voice again.  "I
think it's obscene.  Why, you're even bigger than Sergei!  And
you're just 17, and a girl!  What do you do, eat steroids instead
of food?"

She set her jaw.  "It is not obscene.  Perhaps if I were just
some model, but my muscle is about power, not about being a sex
object for men.  And you can be sure that everything you see is
completely natural.  You see what Wendy has done with her body,
thanks to her genetic inheritance from my father alone.  I am
descended from two mesomorphic parents.  My mother and her family
were peasants who've worked the land for thousands of years,
without tractors or harvesters.  You had to be strong to survive,
even the women.  I did that work myself for most of my life and
its only the last few years that I've gotten to be bigger than my
Mom.  As for being bigger than my Dad, well, in his prime my Dad
was much bigger than he is now, and if he worked at it he could
outclass me again in a matter of months, but he has other things
he'd rather do, like running his businesses and making his
millions.  "

She picked me up and held me against her with one arm under my
ass.  "Some day, I'd like to find a man like my father, so I
could feel just once what other women feel when they are weaker
than their man, but if you have any doubt about it, I am all
woman.  Would you like to try me?"  She pushed me tighter against
her, and the feel of her ridged stomach muscles pressing on my
erect member
as she lifted me up and down slightly was bringing me dangerously
close to coming.  I tried to push myself away, but she knew just
what she was doing and kept up the pressure, moving me faster and
tightening her muscles against me.  Finally, I could hold myself
back no longer and came in a flood.

"Ooops!  You've had a little accident.  Maybe I should let you
clean up.  We can talk more later."  She giggled and let me down
and I bolted from the room, hoping Wendy and Mom wouldn't see the
stain on my pants before I got back to my bedroom.

Life was sure going to interesting from here on in.

THE END