[rob000]

This story was inspired by Solomon's Show and Tell.  I have also posted this story at brawna.org.

Doing the dishes was his responsibility on Tuesday nights. He put the last glass in the dishwasher, shut it, and pressed its "Start" button. Then he turned off the kitchen light and went to the bedroom door. It was closed, as it always was on Tuesday nights while he cleaned up after dinner.

He knocked and asked, "Ready?"

He heard rustling. "Come on in," his wife called.

He opened the door. His wife smiled at him. She wore a white cut-off boy-beater and stretch denim shorts, with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She also wore a pair of plastic safety goggles and his tool belt. Already he felt his crotch tightening, she looked so sexy.

She had placed a pair of sturdy plastic milk crates on the floor, upside down. On top of one was a coping saw. She also had a few two-by-fours leaning against the wall. Motioning to the setup, she said, "I was just getting ready to do a little home improvement."

"Really? Well, don't let me stop you," he said, sitting on the bed.

"First, I have to cut this board down to size," she said, taking one of the pieces of wood. Kneeling, she placed it across the milk crates and picked up the saw. She started sawing the board, leaning on it with one hand to brace it. Her pony tail jumped around as her body shifted with each stroke of the saw. She looked up at him. He was watching her breasts jiggle through the scooped neck of her tank top. The bulge in his pants was obvious.

She worked on the board for about half a minute, then stopped, having cut only a fraction of an inch into the wood. "Whew," she said, "this is hard work."

"That saw's not really meant for that kind of cutting," he said. "Maybe you need a bigger one."

"This body's not really made for carpentry," she said. "Maybe I need a bigger one." She grinned.

He grinned back. "That would work too."

She just kept grinning at him, sensing his anticipation. A few seconds passed. "Maybe I should move on to the nailing," she finally said.

"Normally you cut things to the right size before nailing them together," he said playfully.

"Hey, if you don't like the way I'm doing this, you can do it yourself, mister!" she responded in kind.

"No, no, you're doing fine," he said.

She picked up another board and placed it atop the one she'd been cutting. Then she pulled a nail out of the pocket of the tool belt. A big, twelve-penny nail, three and a half inches long and an eighth of an inch in diameter. She placed the nail on the top board, holding it vertical with her left hand. She felt around on the belt with her right hand to find the hammer and pull it out. It was a little eight-ounce claw hammer with a steel tube neck and a pink handle. He recognized it from the "Ladies' Tool Kit" she'd owned when he met her.

She began hammering on the nail, but as with the saw, she made little progress. The hammer was intended for driving a picture-hanging nail into drywall, not driving a framing nail through a two-by-four. He just settled in and enjoyed the bobbling in her shirt.

After the nail had gone in half an inch, she stopped and straightened up. "This is hard work!" she said, theatrically wiping her brow.

"Well, you've got a tiny hammer. Maybe if you had a twenty-four ounce hammer…" he said.

"I've also got a tiny arm. Maybe I need a twenty-four inch arm?" she said.

"You've got to use the right tools," he said. "It doesn't matter how big your muscles are. If you use the wrong tools, you won't get the job done."

"Wanna bet?" she said.

"Prove me wrong," he said. "Please…"

"And if I do?" she teased.

"I'll do the nailing," he said, smirking.

She smiled back. "You got it, sweetheart."

She slowly stretched her arms above her head. He drew a deep breath. Then, with a feminine grunt, she snapped them down, curling them by her sides. One, two, three seconds passed. Five seconds. He exhaled. Nothing else happened.

"Uh… what?" he said.

"Just teasing," she said with a wink. Then she threw her arms straight out to the sides.

This time, in the instant she spread her arms, her whole shape spread out too, in a violent explosion of brawn. Her thighs rent the seams of her shorts. Each slender, featureless arm thickened into a braid of hard, bulging sinews. Her torso stretched the boy-beater to near transparency. She'd been a sexy carpenter before. Now, with the muscle of three or four large male carpenters stuffed into her skin, she redefined the concept.

She put her left hand on her hip and flexed her right bicep. She still held the little pink-handled hammer in her right hand. It had struck him as a little silly-looking when she'd used it on the big nail. Now, in juxtaposition with the monstrous bicep arched underneath it, the hammer looked positively ridiculous.

"Now, are you sure it doesn't matter how big my muscles are?" she asked

"Well, that bicep might be more than the twenty-four inches you said you needed," he said.

Looking at her flexed arm, she relaxed it slightly and re-flexed it. "You know it, baby," she said, chuckling.

He did. Except for freaks like Gregg Valentino, who injected liquid directly into his biceps to inflate them, there wasn't an arm in the world larger than his wife's was now. He'd measured it once, once on a previous Tuesday night, to be thirty-one inches around, and it was pure female beef. She demonstrated that almost every Tuesday night. He knew she was about to do so again.

"Now, then. Back to the nailing," she said. She picked up the two boards in her left hand. The top one still had the nail sticking out.

"I thought I was going to do the nailing," he said.

"Only if I win the bet, right?" she said. She pulled down the neck of her shirt with a finger, and wedged the head of the hammer between her pecs. Then she tensed them and took her hand off of the hammer. The pressure of her deep muscle cleavage held it firmly in place.

She stepped over to him and leaned forward. "But if you really want to take over, be my guest," she said.

He took the hammer handle and tugged, but her thick chest held it in a firm grip. He knew he could pull hard enough to take it, but he didn't want the game to end yet. "No, no, you should finish your work," he said.

She gave him a quick kiss and said, "I thought so." She stepped back to the milk crates, the hammer still sticking straight out from her chest. Then she relaxed her pecs and the hammer fell into her waiting hand. She exchanged it for the saw. "But I'll doing the sawing first anyway. That's what you said before."

She put the boards back across the milk crates and began sawing with slow, steady strokes. He watched her chest muscle shift under her shirt and her bicep swell with each pull. Then she sped up, faster and faster, until smoke began rising from the kerf.

"Wow…" was all he could say.

"Yeah, I better be careful. Don't want to cause a fire. I'd have to get out last week's costume," she said. He remembered last week's costume. Firefighter. Sexy firefighter. Scantily-clad, sexy firefighter. She'd applied a temporary tattoo of flames around her belly button, then said she need a hose to put out the fire. She'd left hers at the station, so she'd have to use the one in his pants. Then, after "hulking up", she'd held him up with one hand under his crotch and used the other to masturbate him until he ejaculated onto the "fire". He remembered the way his semen had run down the grooves of her six-pack.

"I'll just shorten these boards the easy way", she said, pulling his mind back to the present. She set down the saw and picked up the boards. She braced the uncut edges against her knee, with the kerf at the top, and pressed down on both ends. Her pecs tensed momentarily and then the boards immediately broke apart.

"Yep, quick and easy," she said, eyeing the ends, which were half smooth from the saw cut and half a forest of splinters from the application of brute force.

"Yeah, but it was only easy because you'd already cut halfway through," he said. He knew it wasn't true. He'd seen her bend metal bars as a blacksmith, and snap thick PVC pipe as a plumber. But it was fun to bait her.

She took the bait, of course. "Is that what you think?" she charged playfully. "Well then, check this out," she said. She dropped three of the four pieces of wood. Taking the end of the last in both hands, she pushed with one hand and pulled with the other. She strained the wood in that way for a second, then reversed the direction of her force. She switched back and forth, and sometimes applying pressure to fold the board down its length. He could tell she was really straining now, and the constant play of ripples across her oversized physique, combined with her little, feminine grunts, were very titillating.

Eventually, a crack appeared, starting from the top end of the board between her hands. "Yeah!" she said. This sign of progress gave her efforts renewed vigor, and she worked the board faster. The crack deepened and lengthened, until the board was split all the way through at the top end. With a final grunt, she pulled her hands apart, tearing the board all the way down its length. She dropped the two halves, placed her hands on her hips, and spread her lats like flying buttresses.

"OK, maybe it wasn't just because you'd used the saw," he admitted.

She laughed, then said, "Now to finish the hammering." She picked up the little pink hammer and a pair of the intact two-by-fours, including the one with the nail sticking out. Looking at the hammer, she said, "You're right, this hammer is too small. Just swinging it at the nail is too much work. There must be an easier way."

She held the boards together in front of her with her left hand, The nail stuck out out sideways. Holding the pink handle in her right hand, she placed the top of hammer head against the nail head. "How about like this?" she said. Then she squeezed, trying to force the nail into the board. Her pecs flexed up again, and her shoulders and biceps too. He could tell this was a real strain for her. Muscles in her neck stood in stark relief, and her face contorted with effort. A little moan escaped from her lips, and then the wood gave way suddenly, and the hammer head head the board, driving the nail all the way in. She sighed with relief. She dropped the hammer and dangled the boards to show that the nail now held them together. "OK, maybe that wasn't easier, but it got the job done."

"Sure did," he said, as impressed as ever with his wife's inhuman strength, and as aroused as ever.

"So, do I win the bet?" she asked with a smile.

"You win," he said.

Pants that were easy to put on usually couldn't be taken off the normal way over her massive Tuesday-night quads, and the denim shorts were no exception. She tore them off. Then, flopping down onto the bed, she said, "So get nailing!"

[Fonk]

That's a sweet little story. Thanks for posting! ;D

[Joshua Corin]

Glad to see my lovely couple are still active and spriteful.  Excellent (albeit unauthorized) sequel.  

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