This is what I call a Six-Pack (Short Story) (Patreon)

This is what I call a Six-Pack

Written By SteeleBlazer

In a cozy living room, the air was thick with the scent of sweat and accomplishment. Angela, had just gotten back from the gym after another tough but rewarding workout. Lately she has transformed into a bit of a fitness fanatic, and has recently delved into bodybuilding. Her dedication was evident in the glistening sheen of sweat that still clung to her muscular frame as she mixed her post-workout protein shake. It wasn’t just a lifestyle change for her, looking at her you’d see her fervor for fitness right away, from her hardbody physique complete with her hard earned six-pack, it seems like her transformation into a fitness fanatic was also a physical transformation too.

Across the room, lounging on the couch with a six-pack of his own, albeit his six-pack was the beer by his side, was her husband, Mike. Needless to say his idea of a six-pack differed from hers, and his notion of a curl involved lifting a can to his lips for a sip. He chuckled to himself as he watched his wife’s muscles bulge and ripple while making and blending her protein shake.

As Mike, lounged on the couch, nursing a beer and living a sedentary life. He chuckled to himself, feeling secure in his masculinity and he couldn't resist boasting, "I'm lucky I'm a man; I don't need to work out to be strong."

Angela just pretended not to hear him and kept on blending her protein shake. After she was finally finished and took a sip from the pitcher, Mike cracked himself open another beer and joined in with her taking a sip of his own.

"Angie," he said, taking a swig of his beer, "you're really getting into this bodybuilding thing, huh?"

Angela turned to face him, her muscles still pumped and bulging from her intense workout. She had a mischievous glint in her eye as she replied, "You could say that, Mike. But I can't help but notice you're more into those beer cans than dumbbells lately."

Mike shrugged, taking another sip. "Eh, I'm good the way I am. No need for all that muscle stuff. I’m a man and I don’t need to work out to be strong."

And while Mike might not have worked out with dumbbells for an awfully long time, he certainly was one himself with his remarks. And Angela decided it was time for him to learn a lesson about what real strength was.

Angela's lips curled into a playful smirk. "You're good with being weaker than your wife?"

Mike, his pride stung, retorted, "You're not stronger than me."

“O’ yes I am,” Angela replied with flex as she chugged down a whole heaping portion of her protein shake.

Mike let out a hearty laugh, not taking her seriously.  “I mean, guys and gals are just built differently."

“Yeah, we are built differently, I’ve got muscles and a six-pack… And you’ve got that six-pack of beer and the beer belly to go with it.” Angela said as she flexed her bicep and chugged down more of her protein shake. She really gave it a hard squeeze so the vein on the bicep head throbbed and pulsed out.

Mike wasn’t intimidated, he just took another swig of beer and causally said to her, “That still doesn’t change the fact that I’m a guy and you’re just a girl. And no matter how many dumbbells you lift, you’ll always be weaker than me.”

“You’re such a dumbbell Mike, but maybe I really shouldn’t go to the gym after all,” Angela said to him.

“And why is that?” Mike asked.

“Because, I could just stay home and lift you instead.” Angela said as she took another big gulp of her protein shake.

Mike paused mid drink, realizing the weight of her words. "Well," he stammered, "Y-your n-not serious a-are you? You’re j-joking right?"

With a devious twinkle in her eye, Angela set her protein shake aside and approached her husband.

She stood in front of him and flexed her impressive physique, her wide and thickly muscled body casting a shadow over him. With a playful yet authoritative tone, she instructed him, "Stand up, Mike."

Mike, still not fully realizing the gravity of the situation, hurriedly gulped down the last swig of his beer and clumsily rose to his feet. Angela wasted no time as she looked him up and down with her eyes.

With a hearty laugh, Angela teased, "Yeah, we are built different, alright." Her gaze fell on Mike's soft beer belly, and she couldn't resist playfully smacking it, causing him to let out an "oof" and eliciting a jiggling motion from his belly.

"You call that a six-pack?"  She said to him pointing at the mess of cans on the coffee table next them. “This is a six-pack,” she said as she pointed to her chiseled abs and ran her finger along the outline of her abs. She smiled and took her time tracing each and every contour of her rocky, hunky muscles.

Angela gave her abs a nice squeeze and flex and this caused Mike’s jaw to drop and his eyes bugged out slightly, and she gave him a sexy little eyebrow waggle and smile to go along with it. This was just the start and Angela was determined to make her point. She couldn’t help but give his belly a playful poke, and he once again grunted and he tried to slap her hand away. But, she just swatted his own hand aside and gave his gut another firm hard slap, causing it to wobble, making him wince.

Then she grabbed his arm, squeezing it, and commented on his "noodle arms." While she brought up her own arm and flexed it right in front of his face. Her meaty mountainous bicep mound rose high upon her arm.

“Ow!” Was all Mike could say as he squirmed and tried to free his arm from his wife’s grasp, but he couldn’t tear his arm free as her grip was like a velvet glove cast in iron.

“Come on Mike, show me those manly muscles of yours!” Angela teased as she gave his arm another squeeze. And all Mike could do was let out another squeak as he squirmed in her grip.

“Ow, stop you’re hurting me.” Mike said.

Angela just laughed and released his grip. And she brought up her arms together in a powerful double bicep flex and she once again challenged him to flex and compare muscles with her.

After just standing there dumbstruck, like a real dummy, Angela gave his shoulder a playful little punch and said, “Come on don’t be afraid, show me what you’ve got.”

Mike winced and let out a little squeal and couldn’t help but rub his shoulder. Angela once again brought her arms together in muscular flexing display and Mike realized that he had no choice and that he’d just have to grin and bear it, and so he brought up his arms next to her for comparison.

But, there really was no comparison between the two. His arms were doughy and devoid of muscles and no noticeable bicep peak at all, while hers were like chiseled granite, each muscle fiber defined with all her hours of hard work in the gym.

“Looks like I’m bigger than you,” Angela proudly boasted, as she grunted and gave her hardbody muscles a good hard squeeze.

Mike had nothing to say, whether that was because the sight of his wife’s muscular physique left him speechless, or because he was too embarrassed and emasculated to say anything, or he was in too much of a drunken stupor to think of anything.

The contrast of their physiques was extreme; every part of her muscular anatomy dwarfed his. Her shoulders were wider than his, once again a testament to all her hard work that it took to forge her hardbody. She smiled as she once again looked over his body, proud of her hard earned muscles, proud that she’s so much more muscular than him. The only body part of his that was larger than hers was his belly. The difference between the two is as simple as a six-pack of abs, and him consuming at least a six-pack of beer daily.

“Well, one part of you is bigger than me,” she said to him teasingly as she gave his belly another good hard smack. And all he could do in reply was once again let out an “oof!”

She smiled and slammed her own thigh against his, causing him to wobble off balance, sending him stumbling and struggling to maintain balance. Laughter bubbled from Angela as she taunted him, "Looks like you've had maybe one too many beers, or maybe I'm just that much stronger than you."

“You’re not stronger than me!” He shouted, but he was still struggling to right his balance, and Angela just laughed and smiled and once again gave her eyebrows a little dance for him.

"Come on… Of course I am, just look at those chicken legs of yours, so skinny." Without warning, she slammed her powerful thighs against his again and once again set him off on his stumbling drunken shuffle.

After he finally righted himself and once again stood up straight, Angela gave her thick thighs a flex next to him. He was wearing just shorts which were perfect for a lazy day lounging on the couch drinking beer, but were also perfect as they allowed such a nice side by comparison between the two of them. Although, once again there was no real comparison, as his thighs looked feeble and pasty compared to her burnished, muscular might, exemplifying the undeniable strength and beauty of her feminine form, and all the hours and hours of her hard work.

Just when Mike thought his humiliation couldn’t get any worse, Angela became inspired and had a light bulb moment. Only instead of a light bulb going off, she playfully punched his shoulder yet again. He once again let out a squeal, as those playful little punches, actually packed quite a wallop.

As he rubbed the sore spot, Angela grinned mischievously. "I've got an idea," she said. "Why don't you punch my abs?"

Mike was taken aback. "You can't be serious."

Angela assured him, "I am. Don't worry; you won't hurt me." With that, she playfully punched his shoulder again, sending a sharp pain through his body.

Smiling mischievously, Angela she stated her challenge all over again, "Punch me, Mike. Right in my six-pack abs… But, you better punch me harder than that little playful punch of mine."

Mike hesitated, his pride on the line, and decided to accept the challenge. Clenching his fist, he punched Angela in the abs with all his might. To his astonishment, she giggled and shrugged it off.

“Was that a punch, I thought you were a man.”

And Mike couldn’t believe it, this was no joke, she actually took a punch from him. Although joke or not she did laugh it off as if it had been one. So Mike decided to quit joking around himself and put more force into the next one, but Angela remained unshaken.

“Try again,” she bade him.

And try again he did, over and over again. Each punch a limp wristed effort that bounced harmlessly off her abs. His blows did no harm, his soft muscles just didn’t have the strength or power to even put a dent into her steely hardbody physique.

Frustrated and somewhat embarrassed, he paused, panting heavily. Angela wasn't about to let up. She slapped him on the back, causing him to almost double over, and teased, "Come on, Mike. I'm ready. I'm woman enough to take it!"

Gritting his teeth, Mike gathered his resolve and delivered a hard punch to Angela's abs, a punch that contained every ounce of power he could muster. And fueled by the liquid courage from his six-pack of beer, he gave her one heck of a powerful punch. Yet Angela stood firm, her own six-pack abs easily absorbing the blow and despite the loud sickening thud, the sound that really sickened Mike was Angela giggling as if it were nothing.

She teased, "Harder. Come on, I thought you were a big strong man."

Mike, simmering with frustration and disbelief, threw a punch with all the strength of his that still remained and once again his limp wristed punch did no harm to her, and once again bounced off her abs harmlessly… Harmless for her, but for him he was rubbing his sore knuckles. Angela looked on and smiled as she watched him try to shake out the pain in his hand. She remained unaffected, laughing heartily and gave her eyebrows another sexy little waggle and dance.

"Told ya, that you wouldn’t hurt me," she said, smiling confidently. "Now, it's my turn."

Mike, still rubbing and shaking his sore hand, gulped audibly. Angela raised an eyebrow and delivered a swift strong punch to his stomach. Her fist sunk deep into his belly, and he dropped to his knees, gasping for air.

"H-how is t-this p-p-possible?" Mike gasped.

“It’s because I’m stronger than you, you dumb little dumbbell.”

With saying that Angela lifted him up in her arms and actually curled him a few times in her arms as if he were just a dumbbell. She counted off ten reps before she tossed that dummy of a dumbbell onto the couch. She climbed atop him and straddled him, squeezing him with her powerful thighs. Her strong legs held him in place, and her bulging biceps were on full display as she placed her hands on his chest. Her muscular physique glistened with sweat as she leaned in, her voice dripping with dominance.

“So, so, so much stronger than you!”

Angela then straightened out her body and sitting atop him she flared out her shoulders and brought her arms up in a dominant muscular flex. She then pointed a finger at her sculpted stomach and grabbed the back of her husband’s head and made him look at her muscular abdominals.

Forcing him to look, she proudly displayed her six-pack abs and said, "Take a good look at this, Mike. This is what a real six-pack looks like, not like those beer six-packs you're so fond of."

And with that she grabbed one of his unopened cans of beers, and put it between her forearm and bicep and she gave her arm a flex. Not only did her biceps burst out on her muscular arm, but the can burst too, shooting out beer onto them. To Mike while it was a waste of beer, the display of her strength and power was not wasted on him.

And as the beer sprayed forth and washed over them, it felt to Angela like it was a victorious champagne bath, washing over her, and celebrating her power and victory and the triumph that her mighty female muscles had over not just Mike, but the can of beer itself. She squeezed her arm again, crushing the can further causing more beer to spray out, drenching the two of them with the power of her muscular might.

Mike swallowed hard, unable to tear his gaze away from his wife's muscular display. He felt a rush of both excitement and vulnerability as her strong body held him in place and the beer washed over him. He couldn’t believe all that happened, and right now the only thing he knew for certain was that he really, really needed a drink right now. And so he reached out to grab a can of beer from the coffee table, but Angela slapped his hand away.

“Nah, ah… No more beer for you little man.” Angela said scolding him.

“B-but, but,” he began to protest, but she just put a finger his lips and hushed him.

“Looks like my muscles and my six-pack are stronger and harder than yours,” she said and with that she took the can from between her bicep and poured the remaining beer onto her rippled abs. “And I don’t want your lips to touch another 6-pack unless it’s mine!”

She then grabbed the back of Mike’s head and pulled his face with those brawny bulging arms of hers hard against those that hardbody of hers. And she squeezed him tightly with those strapping muscles of hers and buried his face deep into those her rock-hard abs of hers, and he eagerly licked and slurped and drank the remains of his six-pack of beer off her six-pack abs.

And he had to admit, her six-pack was better.