My Life With a Muscular Cheerleader - Cover

My Life With a Muscular Cheerleader

Copyright© 2014 by Submissive Romantic

Chapter 11

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 11 - A college senior comes home on spring break and finds the girl of his dreams.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   First   Oral Sex  

Because I had been too busy trying to make partner to take a vacation at the time, we had postponed our 10th anniversary trip back to Aruba. Now that I was free from that burden, I surprised Patti on her birthday with tickets for our twelfth anniversary.

"Oh, Bill, I can't wait! Thank you. But you know we have a lot of work to do before we go."

"What do you mean?"

"We have to get rid of this and these," she said, back handling my small but growing gut, and grabbing hold of my love handles.

"We've got less than six months before we go, so we have no time to waste; tomorrow we begin."

'What's this "we" stuff, ' I was thinking; 'I'm the one who has to lose the weight.

I found out when the alarm clock went off at five o'clock the following morning. Patti had to practically carry me down the two flights of stairs to the gym.

"Here's the routine. First you're going on a strict diet; we've got to get that fat off of you. You'll be doing a lot of running and light weightlifting for the next couple of months. We're also going to be doing floor exercises and yoga.

"Yoga? Isn't that for women?"

The look that I got and the sinister smile convinced me that it was not.

"When we've got your weight down as low as possible, then we'll start building your body."

"Come here; first we've got to see just how bad you've been. Get on the scale."

I removed my sneakers and socks and stripped down to my underwear before getting on the scale.

"145 pounds. We've got more work than I thought. Okay, get on the treadmill and start running; I'll tell you when you can stop."

While I ran, I watched Patti set up two large charts and hang them of the wall. One was a weight chart on which she would record my progress from week to week. The other was schedules listing what exercises I would be doing on which days. After thirty minutes, which in the past would have only been the midpoint of my run, I was laboring to breathe and near exhaustion.

"Okay, cool down for a couple of minutes and then come over here. I've got your weights set up for the next phase of your workout."

I went through a series of exercises, none of which by themselves were particularly difficult; all were done using light weights. Collectively, however, by the end of I was beginning to strain to complete the final sets.

"Good. Come over here; now we're going to work on your core."

First she had me do a series of push-ups, sit-ups and leg lifts. Next was the yoga. I watched as she demonstrated each movement. When she had completed her demonstration she had me do them, correcting my form on each. Then we did them all together, moving from one immediately into the next. After thirty minutes, I was huffing and puffing and the sweat was pouring down my face.

"Still think yoga is just for women? That's enough for today; you go get ready for work while I pack your lunch and make breakfast."

It was a little after seven when I entered the kitchen dressed for work. Breakfast consisted of two scrambled egg whites, a piece of dry toast, a couple slices of tomato and a tall glass of water.

"Where's breakfast," I joked sitting down.

"That's it. I told you, you're going to be on a strict diet for the next several months. It's for your own good. I've got to get ready for work; your lunch is on the counter. Love you."

After breakfast, I washed my dishes, picked up my lunch bag, and headed for the office. The first day was the hardest. I practically ran to the lunchroom and grabbed my bag out of the refrigerator. My lunch consisted of a turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato, an apple, and a bottle of water. When I was done, I wanted to eat the bag for desert. On the drive home that night all I could think about was dinner.

"I see you made it through your first day," Patti joked as she closed up the shop. "Don't worry; I have dinner all ready to be heated."

Dinner consisted of a chicken breast, green beans, and a dry baked potato, with a tall glass of water with a slice of lemon. I ate the lemon for dessert.

"It will get easier, I promise."

"I certainly hope so."

After dinner, I helped Patti do the dishes and then, after paying some bills, joined her in the living room for a little television. By nine-thirty I was ready for bed. I kissed her on the cheek and turned in.

"Don't stay up too late."

"I won't; I just have to get everything ready for tomorrow morning. I'll be in shortly."

I don't know when she came to bed; I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. When the alarm went off the next morning I thought I was going to die. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me 'don't move, please don't move'.

Patti just laughed and said, "Come on, get up and get dressed, we have work to do."

As I entered the kitchen on my way to the gym, Patti handed me three Advil tablets and a glass of water.

"Here, take these; they'll take the edge off."

I followed her downstairs. As we entered the gym, she turned to me gave me a big kiss and said, "You know what to do; same as yesterday. I'm going to start my workout."

I watched her while I was running. Patti went through a series of stretching movements, push-ups and sit-ups, before hitting the weights. She made it look so easy. She moved from exercise to exercise without hesitation. Her form was perfect as she went through multiple sets at each weight. When I was done with my run, I moved to my weight set. As I did each exercise I couldn't help comparing myself to her. She was using three times the amount of weight that I was using.

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