by Lisa Ferrari
But in order to compete at the top level in the most prestigious shows, you must have your pro card, which is a credential you earn by winning a show. It’s basically called paying your dues. It’s a weeding-out process, to separate the beginner and intermediate athletes from the pros, with the pros competing every year at the Olympia contest in Las Vegas. The Olympia is the biggest show there is. The top bodybuilder wins $250,000, and a coveted trophy called a Sandow.
I ask Kellan if he ever competed in the Olympia and tried to win the $250,000 and the Sandow.
He laughs. “I wish.”
“Could I do it?”
“You can do anything you put your mind to. We’re going to be excruciatingly busy with the movie for the next couple of years but if you continue training hard and adding muscle and you decide you want to try competing, that’s something we could certainly look into.”
“If I did a show, you think I would win?”
“Could you? Most definitely. Would you? Depends on your competition.”
“What if Stacy was in the same show and I competed against her?”
“Tough to say. Stacy does have a nice physique. Say what you like about her, the girl works hard in the gym and is honest with her nutrition. I never had any difficulty coaching her in that regard. Most clients, I yell at them at least once a month because they tell me they ate an entire peach pie over the weekend. But Stacy never did. Not once. If anything, I had to yell at her to eat more. She was so determined to reach her goal that she thought eating less would help. But she wasn’t eating enough, despite my staunch protests, and at her show she came into prejudging looking small and flat. Shredded, but small and flat as a pancake. When she saw the other women and realized how much better they looked, and that she had already lost, she freaked out and went to IHOP and ate a huge pile of pancakes and a plate of French fries. The glycogen boost filled her out for the night show but the damage was already done from the prejudging that morning. She wound up finishing fifteenth out of sixteen competitors. Not even top ten. She didn’t even get a call-out. Not good. If she’d listened to me, she would’ve been at least top five, probably even top three. The women who won first and second looked better but their posing was a joke. Stacy is a very good poser because she learned from me. But she didn’t listen and she blew it.”
“And that was the last time she competed?”
“Yes.”
“Sounds like she needs to get back on the horse. And this time, actually listen to her coach.”
“That’s exactly what I told her.”
“What did she say?”
“Not much. This was all happening right around the time you and I met. So I think she felt uncomfortable with me as her coach. I had truly hoped we could continue a professional relationship. But it’s probably better this way. Besides, there are plenty of other coaches out there, all of whom are very good and very knowledgeable.”
I’m not sure what pleases me more: Kellan’s use of “whom” or his commitment to staying away from Stacy, my female nemesis. Batman has the Joker, the Smurfs have Gargamel, Harry has Voldemort (that’s right I said it!), and I have Stacy.
Okay, such a comparison is patently absurd in every possible way, but it’s still funny.
Sort of.
I just know Stacy McTitties will show up at some point.
Maybe I should add Denise to the list.
Although, at the—gag!—intervention last week at my parents’ house, Denise did come off as genuinely contrite for having tried to seduce Kellan. Twice.
But, if I’m honest, if Denise were dating Kellan and the three of us were hanging out, I’d probably hit on him or conspire to be alone with him somehow so I could perhaps steal him away.
Or, at the very least, I would be very, very sweet to him in the hopes that he would decide he liked me more than Denise, and he’d dump her and begin dating me.
After dinner, we go for a swim and a soak in the hot tub. We watch the sun go down and the city lights come on across the L.A. basin. It is even more beautiful than I anticipated.
Kellan tells me about an article he saw online about city lights. There is a photographer who took an iconic photograph of downtown L.A. about ten years ago. It’s a lovely shot of the city at night, diffuse with a beautiful orange glow from the streetlamps. The photographer returned to the same spot and took the same photo and put it side by side with the original. It showed that the orange glow was now gone, having been replaced with a blue-white glow from the streetlamps, all of which had been replaced with low-energy, more environmentally conscious LED’s. The new LED’s were causing problems by messing up the sleep cycles of wild animals, and even the people who live in the city. And whenever he watches a football game on TV, like he mentioned before, in addition to seeing the names of banks on the tops of all the tallest buildings, he also notices how the city lights are changing from orange to white, and the landscape of the city, the country, and even the earth is slowly changing.
It’s an interesting, subtle change. One I never would have thought to notice.
Kellan pulls me into his lap and kisses me.
I feel the fervent, passionate, loving depth of his kiss, his lips on mine, his hands on either side of my face and in my hair.
“I love you so much, Claire,” Kellan whispers.
“I love you, too, Kellan.”
We press our foreheads together and sit quietly, wrapped in that moment.
AN HOUR LATER, Kellan is deep inside me, giving it to me on the pool table.
The soft green felt feels nice under my back and shoulders.
Kellan is sweating. Little beads of perspiration cover his shiny, tanned, muscular body.
Wow.
He’s so sexy.
His hands are cupping my breasts and I’m holding onto his forearms.
I thumb the beautiful engagement ring on my finger. It sparkles in the light beaming down from the three hooded lights suspended above the table.
“What?” he asks me.
I hold up my hand, indicating the ring. “I love this. And I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I can’t believe we’re here, that this is happening. We’re making love on a pool table in a big, beautiful house. My books are on the shelf. And that damn cellar door is fixed. Already this place feels like home.
I spread my legs wider for Kellan. “Deeper,” I moan.
Kellan grins, slows his pace, slides his hands down my body to my thighs. He grabs on as he eases himself deeper, pushing himself against me, pulling my body against his. Every inch is heaven. It takes my breath away.
Kellan pushes himself against me, going oh so deep.
“Like this?”
Everything down there is already tightening around him and I cannot speak my intended reply.
I nod and moan and breathe heavily. I can feel his scrotum warm and soft against my butt. That’s how deep he is. How he can fit inside me, I do not know.
And then I’m coming.
The physical ecstasy is amplified by the love in my heart and the intellectual connection in my mind, knowing we’re here, together, in this house, this new house, in this new city, and we’re engaged to be married.
It is absolutely the most exciting time of my life. My muscles contract as the orgasm seizes me.
“Yes, Claire…” Kellan whispers, watching as everything in me tightens.
My abs contract as I do a half-crunch, lifting my head off the pool table.
“Come on my cock,” he whispers.
And it’s so hot.
“I’m going to come inside you, Claire.”
This gets my attention. Through the pounding waves of my all-encompassing climax, I open my eyes. I want to see him come. He’s barely moving. His erection is in me up to the hilt. His eyes close and his head lolls back. His mouth opens.
His body snaps forward, his pectoral striations rippling, his abs popping. K
ellan grits his teeth and the big veins on the sides of his neck stand out.
I feel his semen pumping into me, so hot.
Kellan breathes heavily through gritted teeth as he is swept away by the waves of his orgasm.
“Claire…” He calls my name again as his head sinks forward and his eyes shut tight, his beautiful perfect white teeth exposed like an animal.
Kellan is quiet for a moment as he pulls on my legs and presses himself so deep. He’s still coming.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him come this long or this hard.
It’s so sexy.
I furiously begin working my clitoris, trying to get off another one while he’s still pulsing inside me.
I tighten and focus. My body is rocking slightly on the felt each time Kellan pushes deeper, then deeper, then deeper still.
How can my body take any more?
How can it feel sooooo good?
I come again. From my clit this time. Different but no less exquisite.
I cry out, breathing loudly, watching Kellan come.
Kellan opens his eyes and looks at me. He’s watching me come, too.
Finally, we begin to relax, the pleasure ebbing slowly.
Kellan sinks forward and rests on his elbows.
He takes my head in his hands and we’re nose to nose.
He looks directly into my eyes.
His gaze is so intense, I become a bit afraid.
“I love you.” His voice is deep and emphatic.
Before I can reply in kind, Kellan kisses me. His lips are warm and soft. I feel the stubble of his beard growth against my chin.
Kellan holds me there for several long, intense seconds.
I sink into the kiss.
I wrap my arms around Kellan, hugging him tight.
Finally he releases me. He smiles down at me. “You came twice.”
I nod. “You came really hard. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come like that.”
Kellan smiles, perhaps a bit shy or embarrassed. “That was definitely one of the best ones ever. Almost as good as Monterey on my birthday.”
“Oh really? Almost, huh?” We drove to a seaside resort hotel for Kellan’s birthday and spent most of the time in bed, very naked, making each other come. I used my strap-on sex toy on Kellan. It was scary and exciting and thrilling and I loved every minute of it. This gives me an idea.
I slide my hands down Kellan’s back and caress his butt. The skin is so soft and smooth and I can feel the muscle hard as a rock underneath. I grip each of his buttocks tightly and pull, spreading him open. “Let’s see what we can do about that. Let me up.”
Kellan raises one eyebrow at me as he stands. He eases himself out of me and I’m sorry to see him go. He’s still mostly erect; how that happens remains a mystery to me.
I move behind him and push on his shoulders, bending him over the table. I kiss his back, planting kisses and trailing my tongue over his skin. I reach around and take his penis in one hand and his balls in the other. They’re wet and sticky with our juices. “Wait here.”
I smack Kellan once hard on the ass and scamper to the bedroom. I dive into my suitcase, which is mostly still packed as I want to take my time arranging everything as I put it in the closet.
I pull out my toy and grab a condom and the warming lubricant we got at Target. I step into the harness and tighten the straps, then roll the condom on. It takes me a few seconds to figure out which way the condom is supposed to go, but I get it. I’m getting better.
I grab a pair of daisy dukes and pull them on, buttoning the top button so my toy pokes out of the zipper.
I check myself in the mirror.
It almost looks real, as though I have a big beautiful erection.
I put on the silver strappy heels Kellan likes.
There. That adds to the look.
I make my way back to the living room. I hope he’s up for this; I’ve been hesitant using my toy on him since the night we did it in the home gym and Kellan broke down completely, sobbing, and shared the history of abuse he endured. And I shared mine. It definitely brought us closer, confiding in one another, sharing things we’d never shared, saying things we’d never said. With or to anyone. I’ve wondered if perhaps that catharsis, though good and necessary, might temper or dispel completely our affinity for this admittedly unusual kink we seem to share.
I guess we’ll find out.
Kellan is on the pool table, naked, doing push-ups. But he stops when he sees me. His eyes open wide and his mouth drops open.
“Ready, cowboy?”
Kellan kneels on the table, catching his breath. His penis is no longer erect but it is still thick and full. Wow.
I get butterflies every time I see it.
“I just came,” he says.
“And you’re going to come again.” I approach the pool table. “Lie here, like I was.”
Kellan gets into position.
I spread his legs. I lean forward and take him in my mouth. He’s warm and soft and salty. I wet him with my saliva and work the shaft with my hand.
Kellan moans.
I stand upright and press my phallus to his, rubbing them together. “Do you like that?”
Kellan watches intently and nods, almost imperceptibly. He’s probably wondering if liking this makes him gay. I want to reassure him that it does not.
“Me, too.”
He glances up at me and I smile reassuringly. I drizzle lubricant all over our cocks and stand them upright, stroking both of them together.
Kellan quickly becomes fully erect once more.
I caress his scrotum, massaging the skin, pulling on it, but being gentle with his testicles. I slide my hand down to his anus and swirl my wet, slippery fingers all around.
Kellan moans.
I press the tip of my finger to his opening and draw a tiny circle.
Kellan gasps.
And the look on his face… I hope he’s not scared or embarrassed; I don’t want him to feel as though he must hide from me. A lot of men hide the true nature of their sexuality from the woman in their life. It’s not healthy. And it’s very sad. I’ve long suspected it to be the root cause of the ongoing pornography epidemic. A man suggests something, his lady goes, “Ooh, no!” and he feels rejected. So he goes online the next day and looks it up. A year later, they’re both on Ashley Madison. Chad Kultgen had it right in Men, Women, and Children. Read the book before you see the movie, though; the book is far more messed up.
I lean forward and give Kellan a kiss on the lips. “It’s okay,” I whisper.
Our eyes meet.
Kellan nods.
I gently, slowly, ease my finger in and out, lubricating Kellan, getting him ready, while I continue stroking our cocks up and down with my hand.
Kellan is now fully erect. (He’s bigger than me; should I do some online shopping later and upgrade?)
And I’m getting very wet. Liquid is dripping out of me.
I slide the head of my toy down his scrotum to his anus, where I swirl it around in a little circle. The warming lubricant is indeed quite warm on my hands. I must remember to ask Kellan to sodomize me with it one day, so I can see how it feels in there.
I begin to rock my hips, very slowly, making tiny movements, gently pressing my toy against his opening, coaxing, gently and slowly.
“You look so sexy, Claire,” Kellan whispers.
“So do you. Lift your legs. I want to watch as my cock goes up your ass.”
Kellan’s eyes widen. He likes hearing me say that. I like saying it. I feel so… powerful. Naughty and kinky, perhaps, But powerful, too.
Kellan rocks his hips back so I can see what I’m doing.
“Oh, God, baby, yes…” I murmur, barely aware that I’m saying it. All my focus is on guiding myself inside him. Gently. Slowly. In and out, a quarter of an inch at a time, until the purple line at the base of the head disappears inside him.
Kellan begins to breathe in shallow breaths. “Oh, God…”
“Does it hurt?” The last thing I want is to cause him pain of any kind.
“No. You’re just so big.”
“Does it feel good?”
“Very good.”
“You want more?”
“Yes.”
I push a little deeper, then withdraw once more. Then again, and again I withdraw. I gently ease the head out, and Kellan gasps. Then I slide it back in.
“Oh, God, yeah…” he says, and his head drops back against the green felt.
I smile inwardly, pleased that my idea is being well received.
Literally.
“You want me deeper, baby?”
“Yes…”
“Look at me.”
Kellan looks up and our eyes meet.
“Like this?” I ask.
I push my hips forward, until inch by inch the entire thick, veined shaft is going inside.
Kellan gasps, fighting to breathe.
This always has such a profound effect on him. I understand why. Being entered, being penetrated, is an intense experience. I’ve always thought that this is the reason why women get more worked up during sex. Men pick up steam more quickly, but they don’t boil as hotly. Once a woman has her fire up, watch out.
I press my silicone balls against Kellan’s ass.
“Oh, God, Claire… Oh, God, yes…”
Kellan is practically writhing on the table before me. I bend forward and hook my arms under his shoulders, grabbing onto him and pressing myself slowly deeper, then relaxing, then slowly deeper again.
“I believe this is what you did to me,” I say, and I kiss him. I push my tongue into his mouth. We stare into each other’s eyes as I make love to him.
The base of the toy is pressing against my clitoris. It’s going to make me come if I continue.
“I love being inside you,” I whisper.
“I love you,” he says, and attacks my mouth with his. His tongue fills my mouth and I suck on it.
Kellan moans.
I increase the tempo of my thrusts, withdrawing a bit further each time, until I’m taking him with the full length of my toy, giving him every inch of the thick shaft. I drizzle more lube on it for good measure.