Chapter 1: Peeking In
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The barbell groaned as it was pulled closer to the not-so-inviting ceiling; a grey and grimy textured plane of plaster with dark stains randomly bedecking it. It had seen better days, but that was years prior. Now it was just almost deliberately left to deteriorate with time.
The barbell contrasted the ceiling; a shiny steel-plated rod with equally polished weights commonly used by bodybuilders; heavy and firm, almost never feathery. The hands that held the bar had evidently been through some tough times, to the point that the skin was rough; callused and somewhat frayed to show the dried areas of blood.
Janet heaved, pulling the barbell up again for the fortieth time, her strength and focus unwavering, droplets of sweat only now just starting to form round the shapely yet muscular expanse of her body, after God knows how long a workout. The moisture seeped this way and that, between the cracks of her gym shorts-clad ass and cleavage, smiling softly at their respective rigidity pressing against the fabrics that helped retained her decency - something she cared very little for by now.
With a gentle exhale she racked the barbell and pulled herself up to sit evenly on the bench, her wide legs flanking either side to engulf it with their mass. The droplets of secretion flowed faster and more frequently now, practically acting as a small cascade of liquid gushing down her cleavage - or, admittedly, what was left of it anyway.
She looked around for a moment, taking deep breaths, at the shoddy excuse of a basement she called a gym. Sure, not all basements need to look nice and tidy, but when it's a gym - a place considered by many to help boost ones strength, stamina and confidence - the least that could be done was help make the place appear pleasing to the eyes. That said; the sub-standard appearance of the basement wasn't Janet's fault, but Frank's. He spent months rebuilding the basement into the gym it is now, used the weights for a few months, then left the place to gather dust, be forgotten.
Naturally, Janet just wouldn't let that stand. She was raised by her parents to maintain everything she could, if at all possible, so it went without saying she used her nurtured mind to preserve the gym, which ultimately led to her using it in her spare time, much to Frank's dismay, before going at it full-time.
"Another great workout" Janet declared contentedly. She reached for the lone white towel draped over the bench's edge and proceeded to wipe herself down, feeling the cottony material glide gently across her arms at first, before moving onto her chest. The individual muscles there still bulged; popping up to the surface of her reddened skin; veins pulsing softly as the rush from the workout slowly ebbed away. "Must be bigger and stronger than Frank by now. I'll be surprised if I'm not."
Janet turned to the mirror behind her just as a hushed groan made itself known from somewhere in the room. Or at least, she thought it was a groan - the basement pipes were so old, it
could easily have been mistook for the central heating groaning itself to life.
Janet stood up in front of the mirror and struck a lat spread pose, catching the reflection of her vein-laden arms bulge, the singular beefy tendons pressing against the mother's smooth skin, pushing out violently to only just touch her hips. Holding the pose, she retained the smile offered previously, obviously marvelled by how big and strong she had become over the past few months. There was no doubting it: she was bigger than Frank, probably stronger too. It was just a shame he didn't share same level of admiration. Admittedly, he felt emasculated by the whole idea his wife was not only working out instead of him, but was also doing so with heavier weights. It put a tremendous strain on their relationship as a married couple.
The only person in Janet's immediate family who ever offered moral support for what she did to pass the time was her son, Nick. He was an ever open-minded individual who always knew it would never hurt to try something new, unless what he tried, did, in fact, hurt him in the end. But other than that, he was a good-natured high-schooler who never got into trouble. Well, not with the law at least.
Janet changed poses, switching into an abs and thighs position. She beamed as her stomach rippled forth to form the washboard Frank was ever-envious of. Janet always said he could achieve a body like hers if he put his mind to it, but Frank had gotten lazy over the years. He wasn't fat by any means, just not as active as when in high school where he first met Janet.
Janet's hand glided gently over the stomach, her smooth hand contrasting the ridiculous rigidity of her core, where each abdominal strangely felt larger and stronger than the last.
"Abs of steel!" she called out triumphantly, suppressing the urge to giggle like the lively high-schooler she once was.
The groan came again. This time it was loud and came from a more specific direction: near the broom closet. Janet smirked knowingly as she turned her head towards it, knowing exactly who made the noises, but elected to play dumb, turning again into a side chest position.
The mother's sports bra thrust out in tandem with her pec flex reflected tantalisingly in the mirror, batting her eyelids with mock lust through it at the broom closet before speaking. "If you're gonna jack off to me..." She reached out to the broom closet's doors and pulled them open with such they sprung free from their hinges, revealing the anxious Nick within. "...at least do it where I can see you."
His sweaty palm clutching the veiny thickness of his shaft, Nick gulped. He was on the euphoric verge of coming to his mother's bodybuilder-shaming beefiness, until she caught him red-handedly performing the shameful act. He was well and truly in for it now, and didn't know how best to respond to what just occurred.
His guilty conscience filled him to the point where it felt like he would crack under the pressure of being stared down by his beastly mother.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" was all he could blurt out frantically, his hand still gripping his yet thick and bulgy shaft.
Janet glowered at Nick with a mock glower, arms folded to press her forearms up against her prized, wall-like chest. Her ears were filled with the soft sobs that escaped from Nick, while her eyes shifted down to his erection hanging above the underwear hanging round his ankles.
"You like these, huh?" Janet pulled an arm up into an obscene, vein-throbbing flex with a deliberate, toying grunt, thrusting a pillar-thick leg out in Nick's direction so that his eyes saw naught but his mother's sheer beefiness. Her traps flared, her neck engulfed with so much muscle, there was more of it than actual neck. "You like Mummy's muscles?" Her tone was motherly, yet retained a degree of mock lust. At least, Nick presumed it to have a mocking tone.
He shifted his stance a bit, shuffling more to the right, as far into the closer as he could, but Janet followed suit, edging closer to him. Physically, in a sense, it appeared as though Nick wanted to escape his mother, but mentally, he was enjoying it; the simple notion of this massive woman so close to him after a workout, dressed still in her sweaty gear, caused his erection to stay prominent.
