[Fonk]

A few days ago scat sent me a story in French to translate and asked me to post it when I'd finished. Here it is. It's called Secrets.

What a bad day! Night had already fallen and I had just got back from the supermarket: I still had to unpack and make myself dinner…

“Drat! My keys!”

I had left my keys at the office and it was too late to go and get them.

“I could try getting the landlord – but he’s a jerk, he’ll never open up for me.”

I stood and thought, weighed down by my bags, when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Hi Mike!”

“Oh, hi! Great timing, I’ve forgotten my keys!”

It was a neighbour from my floor, the only person I spoke to in the whole bloody apartment. She must have weighed about 150 kilos but she was very nice. She had the face of an angel and long blonde hair, which framed two enchanting eyes. Furthermore, she had an incredible kindness; I had trouble believing that no one else would speak to her, though it was certainly the case.

She approached me and took a few of the packages.

“Wait, I’ll open it up for you.”

We went towards the lift and started to put some packages in there. When we wanted to get in it was already full.

“A little exercise, then!”

So I had to walk up the ten flights of stairs that separated me from my apartment. When I made it up there, my bags were waiting for me on the landing. I caught my breath for a minute and, finally, got in. I started unpacking.

“Where did I put it…”

Then I got nervous.

“Oh no!”

She had kept one of the bags, the only one I didn’t want anyone to see: it contained some bodybuilding magazines as well as videos of female bodybuilders.

“Oh no! She’ll think I’m a sicko! She’ll tell everyone and they’ll all laugh at me!”

I quickly went over to her place. When she opened the door, she was still wearing her usual long coat that left no clue to the shape of her body but her face was still sporting that enchanting smile.

“I’m missing a bag; you wouldn’t have it, by any chance?”

“Yes, yes,” she said, looking me straight in the eyes with a little smile at the corner of her lips that told me she knew.

She showed me the small table in her lounge where she had put my magazines.

“I didn’t know you liked that kind of girl.”

“Well, er…”

“You don’t need to justify yourself! To each his own.”

I was surprised that she wasn’t laughing at me. I took my magazines and when I got back to my apartment I asked:

“You…”

“I know – I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thanks.”

The next day when I got in from work, Lea got to the lift at the same time as me. This time, she was the one laden down with bags. As I was already in the lift, she dropped the bags at my feet and, whilst looking straight at me, said:

“I think it’s my turn today!”

I felt a bit guilty for letting this 150-kilo woman walk up ten flights of stairs.

“No, leave them, I’ll take them.”

She put her arm out to stop me and with her other hand shut the lift door. When I found myself in the lift with Lea’s bags, I couldn’t stop myself looking in them as she had done the day before. To my great surprise the bags contained barbells.

“Look at that! Those magazines must have given her ideas.”

I grabbed a barbell and tried to lift it: it was impossible!

“What’s going on? It’s stuck!”

I opened the bag as wide as possible so it wouldn’t block the barbell’s passage. I had to use both hands to get the thing off the ground but I couldn’t stand up.

I started to worry when I remembered how easily Lea had carried the bags into the lift. I went to check the weights of the barbells when the lift stopped. I dragged the bags outside the lift. The door to Lea’s apartment was already open: she’d beaten me upstairs!

My throat was dry and I could barely stand. Lea came out to meet me on the landing.

“I’ll help you!” she said.

She took a barbell in each hand and then swept her hair out of the way with her forearm. Several times, without moving her eyes from mine, she blew at a rebellious lock of hair that seemed to trouble her more than the huge weights she was carrying in each hand. With each breath, she exposed her slightly open full lips to my wild eyes, making her golden hair dance. It was… magical!

“Carry the bags!” she interrupted, pointing in the direction of the empty bags.

I didn’t know what to say. Was I humiliated? Subjugated? Or was I just dreaming? I followed her without trying to think about anything.

Once we were in her lounge, she invited me to sit down on her sofa and I practically fell onto it. She stood in front of me and looked at me as if she was waiting for some sort of reaction from me. The problem was I was completely out of it and didn’t really know what to say. She took the initiative:

“I know your secret, I wanted you to know mine.”

She unbuttoned her coat and let it slip to the ground, leaving her naked body exposed.

When I opened my eyes again a few minutes later, she was leaning over me.

“Mike! Mike! Are you okay? Speak to me!”

She saw that I was feeling better and so stood up, once again letting me see her naked body. I had never seen a body like it: contrary to what I’d always thought, she didn’t have the least gram of fat on her. It was muscle, only muscle!

From looking at her, I guessed she had a 60-inch chest, a 28-inch waist and 20-inch biceps, all made out of rock.

Still looking at me, she lifted an arm out to the horizontal and started to flex slowly. She kept smiling at me and her biceps continued to grow until she stopped her arm.

“Do you want to touch it?”

I didn’t know what to do, although I knew I really wanted to! Whilst I thought about the proposition, she crouched down in front of me, still with her arm flexed and I couldn’t stop myself from putting the palm of my hand on her biceps. My hand looked ridiculously small compared to the enormous mass of muscle.

“Go on! Don’t be scared! Squeeze as hard as you can!”

I squeezed with all my might but my fingers did not sink one millimetre into the skin, so hard was her muscle. She looked at me, smiling, and said:

“Do you want me to contract? Look…”

She slowly turned her wrist and her biceps started to grow inexorably. My fingers slowly spread apart and still did nothing when I squeezed down. She kept on smiling.

“Now you know my secret too.”

As she said that, she stood up, picked up two barbells and started to do alternate curls with them.

“Each one weighs 72 kilos!” she said with a little smile on her face. She knew that that was what I weighed. She continued her exercise without any sign of fatigue or effort for several reps. She then put down one of the barbells. She lay down on her back and held one of the barbells as if she was going to do a bench press. She glanced at me mischievously and threw the barbell in the air, caught it and threw it again. She did this again and again, each time throwing it higher. For her last throw, she threw it practically up to the ceiling and let it fall heavily on her chest. If anyone else had tried it they would have broken several ribs. Instead, she burst out laughing when she saw my astonishment. She stood up and walked toward me.

“Are you still dressed?”

She took me by the neck and lifted me off the sofa with one hand. With the other she started to unbutton my jeans, slide them off my legs and do the same with my underpants. She slowly lifted her arm and I felt myself get hard until my penis was at the same level as her face. She took me in her mouth and put me against the wall, keeping me there by pressing against my stomach. With her other hand she caressed my whole body with a delicateness that was difficult to reconcile with the demonstration of strength that she had just given. She didn’t stop looking at me. As for me, I shut my eyes from time to time to get the most out of this unforgettable moment. When she felt that I was going to orgasm, she stopped dead and put me back on the floor. When she saw I was looking at her quizzically, she put a finger on my lips to signal me to be quiet. As she slid her finger all over my body, I noticed she was wearing a sexy red nail varnish. I started to shake with desire.

“Not yet,” she said.

She lay on the ground and beckoned me over to her.

“Come on, I want to do some presses… come on!”

I lay down on her red-hot body. She took hold of me by the hips, put my cock in her and started to lift and lower me and then repeat… I made the most of these moments of weightlessness to caress her powerful arms. When I was again on the point of orgasm, she contracted her vaginal muscles, stopped me ejaculating and kept me in a state of indescribable pleasure (and pain).

She looked me straight in the eyes and said:

“Go on, let yourself go.”

She let go and I could finally come freely. The heat invading her body made her come at practically the same time as me. She took me in her enormous arms, kissed me and we slept one on top of the other until the morning.

The End?

Just a little note: if you think this is worthy of karma then please, please send it to scat and not me! 🙂

[ze fly]

Wow!! That was quick!! I just read the original that Scat sent me, and the message was from 3 days ago…  😮

Again great work with the translation: perfect  😉

As for Scat, I think that the message I sent back to him is now obsolete 😛

[scat]

big thanks to Fonk for have tranlated the story.

i want to rectify his note : he done a big part of the work traducing the story, i think it's surelly more painfull that is to write an original story. and without him nobody can read the story so for the karma … 🙄

[Vic]

Very nice!

[BlackKusanagi]

I like a lot. ^_^

[Author]

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