Tanya found her brother Erik in the weight room.

“Aha, there you are!” she exclaimed. “What you doing?”

“Lifting, what does it look like?” Erik answered.

“I know that, but how much? Let’s see two forty-fives—so like ninety pounds, right?”

After a grunt and a lift, Erik said, “The bar and the clamps make one-fifteen.”

“Right,” Tanya said. “And I see your dick’s lifted too. That’s gotta add, what, half a pound?”

“Very funny,” Erik said, beginning another lift.

“Maybe I could help,” Tanya said. “Like be a spotter or something?”

Erik grunted.

Tanya traced her forefinger up the seam of Erik’s penis.

“Hey!” Erik complained.

“One-fifteen, that’s what Liz weighs, I bet,” Tanya observed. “Me thinks there’s method in your madness.”

“Go away,” Erik said.

“Watching you is too much fun,” Tanya said. “How many times do you have to lift her before she comes?”

“Who comes?” Erik asked.

“Liz, of course. Maybe you could practice with something more realistic.”

“Like what?”

“Well, it happens that I also weigh one-fifteen.”

With that, Tanya straddled the bench and mounted Erik’s cock. “Mm, mm, mm,” she moaned, sinking down. “Mmmm. Come on now, lift. Show me what you got!”

Each time Erik lifted bar, Tanya rose up,

only to sink down again as Erik brought the bar back to his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tanya chanted with each lift.

Four lifts later Erik was coming.

“Hmpf,” Tanya complained, once Erik’s spasms subsided. “That was mighty greedy of you.”

She dismounted, walked to the head of the bench, straddled Erik’s face, and lowered herself.

“Talk about greedy,” Erik said.

“You got off, didn’t you?” Tanya rebutted.

“Yeah, like one time,” Eric said after wiping his face. “You must’ve gazzed half a dozen times.”

“So? If you were half a man...”

“Oh, Tanya. Why do we have to fight? Why can’t we just fuck?”

“Oh dear brother. Don’t you understand? Fighting makes fucking so much better.”