08-06-2008, 01:12 AM
Golden Girl with Golden ABs written by Unknown
I love the way my girlfriend knows how to push my buttons. She knows exactly what gets me excited, and she doesn't mind that my tastes are out of the ordinary. Not only does she encourage my fantasies, but they have become her own too. You see, the fact that she is a former gymnast and swimmer with the sexiest rock-hard stomach I had personally ever seen is good enough to be a perpetual turn on, but the additional fact that she likes to work out for me, so I can watch her abs flex when she performs her grueling workouts makes me want her even more. I love female abdominals - washboard bellies, six-pack stomachs, attained through dedication or genetics, or both. I met my girlfriend at the gym in college while she was a competitive swimmer and we got together. As we dated, she discovered how much I worshipped her body and paid extra attention to her rippled stomach, and fortunately for me, she was very proud of her muscles. My fetish for her abs spurred her to keep her fantastic shape and work on her stomach muscles even more for me. Man, was I lucky. But one night, I found out that I was even luckier than I had ever imagined.
I came home from work one night after a late evening at the office. It was a Friday and I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. I didn't see my girlfriend immediately, so I poked around the apartment to see if she was home. I turned the corner into the bedroom and was greeted by a familiar, yet still stunning sight. My girlfriend was hanging upside-down on the chin-up bar that she had attached to the doorway of our closet. She was supported on the bar by the undersides of her knees and she had her hands clasped behind her head holding a 10 lb weight. I watched her crunch her abs and curl her upper body as she did controlled sit-ups, one after another. She didn't notice me yet, so I got to gaze at her delicately muscled body as she pumped out her reps. She was about 5' 6" and 115 lbs, half-asian and half caucasian, which gave her the muscle tone of the average american girl jock, but the smooth, flawless bronzed skin indicative of her Asian ancestry. She had beautiful athlete's thighs, and knotted calves to go with them. Her arms and shoulders were buffed as well, from her days as a swimmer and gymnast - not huge, but certainly big enough on her frame to let you know that she was strong and could pop her biceps in front or your eyes at will. On her upswing, when her back was facing me as she crunched at the top, I could she her detailed back muscles as they clenched from holding the weight. She got those too, from swimming and regular workouts gave her the sought-after "V"-shaped physique. But oh, those abs. Those were what made her body perfect. She always showed her abs when she and I went out and everyone's eyes are compelled to sneak a glance at her exquisitely muscled torso. Her serratus and ribs melded together along the sides of waist, forming deep cinch in her waist. Between the tops of her hips and the bottom of her ribcage lay her 6 slightly offset abdominal muscles,: flat and hard as stretches her stomach, ribbed and ripped as she flexes for each repetition. She claims she's had a six-pack as long as she could remember. It's true: I saw a picture of her once when she was at the beach with her parents when she was 12 and even then her little girl's bikini revealed the hints of visible stomach muscles. Her time in gymnastics built the muscles in her frame and her collegiate swimming days basically stripped away whatever little body fat she ever had in the first place. Now, at 24 years of age, she had the perfect female athlete's body. And she liked to push it to its limits. She forced herself to endure morning and evening workouts to keep her perfection, and even better, she let me watch and "help" her workout at times. I could tell that this evening was going to be one of those times.
Her naturally tan body was covered only by a pair of dark blue soccer umbros and a tiny navy-colored sportsbra. Eventually her muffled sighs as she completed each rep stopped when she noticed me as she was hanging upside down. "Hello, baby!" she said with a inviting smile, as she let go of the weight and motioned for me to come closer. I stood right in front of her as she was hanging, and then she curled her body to parallel to the ground as I bent over slightly to kiss her lips. We kissed passionately for over a minute, and the knowledge that she was holding her body perfectly still and parallel against gravity using her abs as we kissed made me instantly erect. When we finished, she held her position with her stomach muscles permanently tensed. I lightly ran my hand over her breasts down to her stomach and felt the hardness of her muscles. "Doing your sit-ups, I see."
"Yeah, but I think I'm going to need to use the fifteen pounder in the future." She said, as she whacked her solid midsection with her small fist. "I'm getting stronger all the time" she beamed, "But you know I need you to really push me to get even harder." To which she curled up all the way and grabbed the bar with her hands en route to dropping lightly to the floor. Her golden body was glowing with sweat, and she exhaled deeply for my benefit to show her six-pack contract into a grid of firm, young muscle. "You think you're tough, huh?" I said. She nodded as she gave me a double biceps pose and a cheesy grin. "Okay," I said, "Get back up there." Now our familiar game would begin.
She reached up to the bar again at my command and hung from the bar this time using her hands. She was conditioned to hold her body rigid as a board from her gymnastics training, and to do so, her thighs, arms and stomach were tensed. I could see her six-pack was more defined than ever, along with the muscles of her legs, shoulders and arms. "She must really be running a lot and watching her diet," I thought to myself.
"Fifty leg raises. Now" I commanded. She smiled a wry smile and began cranking out her reps. As she lifted her legs up to parallel, and began to lower them, I chastised her for not going all the way up. "You know the rules: touch the bar with your toes." She frowned briefly, but pulled her thighs all the up to the bar on the next rep. I counted as she powered her legs up to the bar each time. At the bottom, her abs would stretch out and she would inhale, only to be followed by a quick flex of her stomach as she used her brick-hard lower abdomen to curl her pelvis toward the bar. After 10 reps, she was still gracefully lifting her body over and over, though her smile had been replaced with a look of severe concentration as she focused on maintaining her perfect form. She took a full second to lift her legs, held each rep at the top for a second, then slowly pulled her legs down until her body was completely straight. That's what I loved about watching her exercise: she never cheated, or made the exercise easier. I soaked in the sight of a bead of sweat that had formed in her chest as it meandered down her rippled stomach. With each rep, all the muscles in her body tightened, and her flat, muscular stomach became a solid washboard. I walked to one side and watched her six-pack flex all through her range of motion, even as her toes pointed upward at the top. On the 20th rep, I decided to make things a little more interesting.
Halfway up, I told her to stop and hold her legs parallel to the floor. "I'm going to get the weights. Keep your legs there." She obeyed. She loved doing static holds for her abs. She told me once that she liked the intense pain that developed in her muscles when she held her abs in a permanent contraction. I guess that should have been a clue that she was a masochist in some way. The tension she maintained really cut up her stomach muscles, and her six-pack stood out in bold relief. I grabbed the 10lb leg weights and strapped them to her ankles. "Now, you got thirty more to do." She continued her paused rep and pulled her legs up to the top again, but now it was obvious she really had to work to get her legs up to the bar. Her next 10 reps were accompanied by a sexy grunt as she lifted her legs each time. She would get halfway, but the extra force her abs needed to pull her legs perpendicular to the floor at the top and touch the bar was really tiring her out. Her look of focused concentration was still on her face, but the pain in her abs caused her brow to furrow into the beginnings of a whimper. But still she cranked out her reps.
"Come on, muscles, you aren't going to quit on me. You want a tough stomach, don't you?" My words spurred her on, and her next rep was more forceful than the one before. She sneered at me in competition as she crunched her abs. But the fatigue was getting to her anyway. On the thirtieth rep, I pushed her ankles down as she pulled her legs to the top and swung her legs forcefully back down. "Come on, resist me more." I barked. Her six-pack was gleaming with sweat by now and her thighs were pumped from being flexed constantly this whole time. She was slowing down now on the upswing, and I didn't hold back as I threw her legs down once she touched the top. "Fuck!" She yelled, as she willed her abs to perform. "Don't stop now. Come on, be strong," I encouraged. The look of concentration on her face had been replaced by a look of pain and anguish, but her pride wouldn't let her stop. Besides, I knew that she had a lot more to give.
"How strong are you? Show me how strong your rock-hard stomach is." My words helped her as she finally reached 40 reps. Not once had she broken form, but her perfect execution took the same strength as if she had done 200 reps. "Hold it." She paused her legs at parallel again. "Wait for me." I said. She was to hold her legs at parallel until I told her to begin again. She winced and bit her lip, but her bulging abs hadn't failed her yet. I reached out and felt her stomach with my hand and was greeted by the intense warmth of her overworked abdominals. I felt between the 1/2 inch crevice between her six-pack and lightly glided my palm over her shredded obliques. "You gymnasts are supposed to be tough. Are you still tough? Huh?" I punctuated my last question with a light punch to her abs. She grunted lightly, but still held her form Ð legs rock solid and abs flexed. "You can't break me." She said, defiant. "Punch me again. Feel how hard my abs are. My abs are stronger than you think." The words gritted through her teeth.
Now this was surprising. Normally, she made me overwork her in her ab routine, but never had she asked me to punch her more than once. But the thought of testing her rock-hard abdominal wall was an opportunity I craved. "Lift up!" I commanded. She struggled up again, toes touching the bar. When she pulled her legs down again, I let go with a solid hook to her lower abs. It wasn't a strong punch, but not a weak one either. My fist met the firm flesh or her abs and bounced back, like tense rubber. "UP!" Ð she lifted again, and on the way down, I punched again Ð right on her bellybutton. "Smack!" went my hand on her stomach. "Show me how tough you are" I barked. "UP!" with each rep, she lifted her legs, and flexed to endure another punch from me into her abs. She was clearly weakening now, but her incredible physique kept powering her abs until she reached 50.
"Get down here!" I shouted. She dropped from the bar. "FLEX. NOW." She held her hands behind her head and tensed her perfect abdomen. I punched her. Hard. She took a step back, but didn't say anything Ð he tacit acceptance of my torture. How much could she take? I swung again and the meaty sound of my fist against her stomach thudded through the room again. Her uneven abdominals were covered with sweat and she was breathing heavily. As she exhaled I let go again. "THUD!" This time she let out a low, guttural groan, but held her hands still behind her head. I continued to pepper her stomach with punch after punch, each time the loud "THWACK" caused by my fist hitting her solid midsection sounded, and each time her stomach valiantly stayed rigid. She began to softly whine between punches, but she would say "give it to me, make my abs stronger." Finally, I said, "One more, then you get the royal treatment." She closed her eyes and I pounded a solid straight punch right to the center of her sculpted abs. She doubled over, but never let go with her hands. "Grab the bar again." She jumped up onto the bar. "Flex your stomach, baby." Again, I was treated to the sight of her ribbed six-pack tensing. I stuck my finger inside her and began playing with her pussy. "Ooooh" she moaned. I then drilled a short hook to her stomach. "OOOOOH!" she groaned. I continued to punch and finger her until finally, after breathing rapidly and flexing her abs beyond comprehension, I plowed into her lower stomach a final, devastating shot right as she came in spasms of pleasure. Her abs rapidly flexed and contracted with her orgasm and she fell to the floor. I watched her as she enjoyed the waves of pleasure that eventually subsided. "We should workout like that more often" she said, breathlessly. Her abs slowly expanding and contracting into the perfect female waistline. "Wow, you're pretty strong. I'll have to try and break you again." I said. With that, she patted her stomach: "You won't be able to as long as I train like that!
I love the way my girlfriend knows how to push my buttons. She knows exactly what gets me excited, and she doesn't mind that my tastes are out of the ordinary. Not only does she encourage my fantasies, but they have become her own too. You see, the fact that she is a former gymnast and swimmer with the sexiest rock-hard stomach I had personally ever seen is good enough to be a perpetual turn on, but the additional fact that she likes to work out for me, so I can watch her abs flex when she performs her grueling workouts makes me want her even more. I love female abdominals - washboard bellies, six-pack stomachs, attained through dedication or genetics, or both. I met my girlfriend at the gym in college while she was a competitive swimmer and we got together. As we dated, she discovered how much I worshipped her body and paid extra attention to her rippled stomach, and fortunately for me, she was very proud of her muscles. My fetish for her abs spurred her to keep her fantastic shape and work on her stomach muscles even more for me. Man, was I lucky. But one night, I found out that I was even luckier than I had ever imagined.
I came home from work one night after a late evening at the office. It was a Friday and I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. I didn't see my girlfriend immediately, so I poked around the apartment to see if she was home. I turned the corner into the bedroom and was greeted by a familiar, yet still stunning sight. My girlfriend was hanging upside-down on the chin-up bar that she had attached to the doorway of our closet. She was supported on the bar by the undersides of her knees and she had her hands clasped behind her head holding a 10 lb weight. I watched her crunch her abs and curl her upper body as she did controlled sit-ups, one after another. She didn't notice me yet, so I got to gaze at her delicately muscled body as she pumped out her reps. She was about 5' 6" and 115 lbs, half-asian and half caucasian, which gave her the muscle tone of the average american girl jock, but the smooth, flawless bronzed skin indicative of her Asian ancestry. She had beautiful athlete's thighs, and knotted calves to go with them. Her arms and shoulders were buffed as well, from her days as a swimmer and gymnast - not huge, but certainly big enough on her frame to let you know that she was strong and could pop her biceps in front or your eyes at will. On her upswing, when her back was facing me as she crunched at the top, I could she her detailed back muscles as they clenched from holding the weight. She got those too, from swimming and regular workouts gave her the sought-after "V"-shaped physique. But oh, those abs. Those were what made her body perfect. She always showed her abs when she and I went out and everyone's eyes are compelled to sneak a glance at her exquisitely muscled torso. Her serratus and ribs melded together along the sides of waist, forming deep cinch in her waist. Between the tops of her hips and the bottom of her ribcage lay her 6 slightly offset abdominal muscles,: flat and hard as stretches her stomach, ribbed and ripped as she flexes for each repetition. She claims she's had a six-pack as long as she could remember. It's true: I saw a picture of her once when she was at the beach with her parents when she was 12 and even then her little girl's bikini revealed the hints of visible stomach muscles. Her time in gymnastics built the muscles in her frame and her collegiate swimming days basically stripped away whatever little body fat she ever had in the first place. Now, at 24 years of age, she had the perfect female athlete's body. And she liked to push it to its limits. She forced herself to endure morning and evening workouts to keep her perfection, and even better, she let me watch and "help" her workout at times. I could tell that this evening was going to be one of those times.
Her naturally tan body was covered only by a pair of dark blue soccer umbros and a tiny navy-colored sportsbra. Eventually her muffled sighs as she completed each rep stopped when she noticed me as she was hanging upside down. "Hello, baby!" she said with a inviting smile, as she let go of the weight and motioned for me to come closer. I stood right in front of her as she was hanging, and then she curled her body to parallel to the ground as I bent over slightly to kiss her lips. We kissed passionately for over a minute, and the knowledge that she was holding her body perfectly still and parallel against gravity using her abs as we kissed made me instantly erect. When we finished, she held her position with her stomach muscles permanently tensed. I lightly ran my hand over her breasts down to her stomach and felt the hardness of her muscles. "Doing your sit-ups, I see."
"Yeah, but I think I'm going to need to use the fifteen pounder in the future." She said, as she whacked her solid midsection with her small fist. "I'm getting stronger all the time" she beamed, "But you know I need you to really push me to get even harder." To which she curled up all the way and grabbed the bar with her hands en route to dropping lightly to the floor. Her golden body was glowing with sweat, and she exhaled deeply for my benefit to show her six-pack contract into a grid of firm, young muscle. "You think you're tough, huh?" I said. She nodded as she gave me a double biceps pose and a cheesy grin. "Okay," I said, "Get back up there." Now our familiar game would begin.
She reached up to the bar again at my command and hung from the bar this time using her hands. She was conditioned to hold her body rigid as a board from her gymnastics training, and to do so, her thighs, arms and stomach were tensed. I could see her six-pack was more defined than ever, along with the muscles of her legs, shoulders and arms. "She must really be running a lot and watching her diet," I thought to myself.
"Fifty leg raises. Now" I commanded. She smiled a wry smile and began cranking out her reps. As she lifted her legs up to parallel, and began to lower them, I chastised her for not going all the way up. "You know the rules: touch the bar with your toes." She frowned briefly, but pulled her thighs all the up to the bar on the next rep. I counted as she powered her legs up to the bar each time. At the bottom, her abs would stretch out and she would inhale, only to be followed by a quick flex of her stomach as she used her brick-hard lower abdomen to curl her pelvis toward the bar. After 10 reps, she was still gracefully lifting her body over and over, though her smile had been replaced with a look of severe concentration as she focused on maintaining her perfect form. She took a full second to lift her legs, held each rep at the top for a second, then slowly pulled her legs down until her body was completely straight. That's what I loved about watching her exercise: she never cheated, or made the exercise easier. I soaked in the sight of a bead of sweat that had formed in her chest as it meandered down her rippled stomach. With each rep, all the muscles in her body tightened, and her flat, muscular stomach became a solid washboard. I walked to one side and watched her six-pack flex all through her range of motion, even as her toes pointed upward at the top. On the 20th rep, I decided to make things a little more interesting.
Halfway up, I told her to stop and hold her legs parallel to the floor. "I'm going to get the weights. Keep your legs there." She obeyed. She loved doing static holds for her abs. She told me once that she liked the intense pain that developed in her muscles when she held her abs in a permanent contraction. I guess that should have been a clue that she was a masochist in some way. The tension she maintained really cut up her stomach muscles, and her six-pack stood out in bold relief. I grabbed the 10lb leg weights and strapped them to her ankles. "Now, you got thirty more to do." She continued her paused rep and pulled her legs up to the top again, but now it was obvious she really had to work to get her legs up to the bar. Her next 10 reps were accompanied by a sexy grunt as she lifted her legs each time. She would get halfway, but the extra force her abs needed to pull her legs perpendicular to the floor at the top and touch the bar was really tiring her out. Her look of focused concentration was still on her face, but the pain in her abs caused her brow to furrow into the beginnings of a whimper. But still she cranked out her reps.
"Come on, muscles, you aren't going to quit on me. You want a tough stomach, don't you?" My words spurred her on, and her next rep was more forceful than the one before. She sneered at me in competition as she crunched her abs. But the fatigue was getting to her anyway. On the thirtieth rep, I pushed her ankles down as she pulled her legs to the top and swung her legs forcefully back down. "Come on, resist me more." I barked. Her six-pack was gleaming with sweat by now and her thighs were pumped from being flexed constantly this whole time. She was slowing down now on the upswing, and I didn't hold back as I threw her legs down once she touched the top. "Fuck!" She yelled, as she willed her abs to perform. "Don't stop now. Come on, be strong," I encouraged. The look of concentration on her face had been replaced by a look of pain and anguish, but her pride wouldn't let her stop. Besides, I knew that she had a lot more to give.
"How strong are you? Show me how strong your rock-hard stomach is." My words helped her as she finally reached 40 reps. Not once had she broken form, but her perfect execution took the same strength as if she had done 200 reps. "Hold it." She paused her legs at parallel again. "Wait for me." I said. She was to hold her legs at parallel until I told her to begin again. She winced and bit her lip, but her bulging abs hadn't failed her yet. I reached out and felt her stomach with my hand and was greeted by the intense warmth of her overworked abdominals. I felt between the 1/2 inch crevice between her six-pack and lightly glided my palm over her shredded obliques. "You gymnasts are supposed to be tough. Are you still tough? Huh?" I punctuated my last question with a light punch to her abs. She grunted lightly, but still held her form Ð legs rock solid and abs flexed. "You can't break me." She said, defiant. "Punch me again. Feel how hard my abs are. My abs are stronger than you think." The words gritted through her teeth.
Now this was surprising. Normally, she made me overwork her in her ab routine, but never had she asked me to punch her more than once. But the thought of testing her rock-hard abdominal wall was an opportunity I craved. "Lift up!" I commanded. She struggled up again, toes touching the bar. When she pulled her legs down again, I let go with a solid hook to her lower abs. It wasn't a strong punch, but not a weak one either. My fist met the firm flesh or her abs and bounced back, like tense rubber. "UP!" Ð she lifted again, and on the way down, I punched again Ð right on her bellybutton. "Smack!" went my hand on her stomach. "Show me how tough you are" I barked. "UP!" with each rep, she lifted her legs, and flexed to endure another punch from me into her abs. She was clearly weakening now, but her incredible physique kept powering her abs until she reached 50.
"Get down here!" I shouted. She dropped from the bar. "FLEX. NOW." She held her hands behind her head and tensed her perfect abdomen. I punched her. Hard. She took a step back, but didn't say anything Ð he tacit acceptance of my torture. How much could she take? I swung again and the meaty sound of my fist against her stomach thudded through the room again. Her uneven abdominals were covered with sweat and she was breathing heavily. As she exhaled I let go again. "THUD!" This time she let out a low, guttural groan, but held her hands still behind her head. I continued to pepper her stomach with punch after punch, each time the loud "THWACK" caused by my fist hitting her solid midsection sounded, and each time her stomach valiantly stayed rigid. She began to softly whine between punches, but she would say "give it to me, make my abs stronger." Finally, I said, "One more, then you get the royal treatment." She closed her eyes and I pounded a solid straight punch right to the center of her sculpted abs. She doubled over, but never let go with her hands. "Grab the bar again." She jumped up onto the bar. "Flex your stomach, baby." Again, I was treated to the sight of her ribbed six-pack tensing. I stuck my finger inside her and began playing with her pussy. "Ooooh" she moaned. I then drilled a short hook to her stomach. "OOOOOH!" she groaned. I continued to punch and finger her until finally, after breathing rapidly and flexing her abs beyond comprehension, I plowed into her lower stomach a final, devastating shot right as she came in spasms of pleasure. Her abs rapidly flexed and contracted with her orgasm and she fell to the floor. I watched her as she enjoyed the waves of pleasure that eventually subsided. "We should workout like that more often" she said, breathlessly. Her abs slowly expanding and contracting into the perfect female waistline. "Wow, you're pretty strong. I'll have to try and break you again." I said. With that, she patted her stomach: "You won't be able to as long as I train like that!