Warning:  The following story may be found by parents to be offensive
	to children.  Keep out of view.

	Warning:  The following story may be found by parents to be offensive.
	To children:  Keep out of view.

		             Matt and Terry (Super Mom)

		                By Charles Peterson

	Of course, Terry never told anyone her weight.  But it was
	easily imagined that she weighed as much as her husband and
	two children combined.  Actually, she weighed much more,
	because most of her enormous frame was pure supercharged
	muscle.  Even her massive breasts together outweighed Suzy, 5,
	her younger child, and Matt, 13, her elder.  Terry's massive
	arms were more than 30 inches around even before being bent.

	Walking down the middle of the hallway, her shoulders and
	biceps brushed against the walls on either side.  She
	remembered, years ago, when she had to clear out all the
	bookcases in the hall so she could walk unempeded.  Even then,
	she was so strong she could lift the bookcases with a finger.
	Now she needed to move out the walls another foot, and she
	could lift the entire house with a finger.

	Her breasts, each resting on a mountain of pectoral muscle,
	each projected so far out in front that the tips of her
	nipples were more than three feet in front of her nose.
	Needless to say she couldn't see her own feet, but the view
	would be awesome to any of us anyway.  She walked slowly and
	deliberately so as not do shake the foundation.

	Nobody really knew how strong Terry was.  She had a weight set
	in the basement with 200 Kg disks, and bars with two or three
	on each side.  It was easy to guess that she had no trouble
	lifting cars, even overhead.  Few people knew she could do one
	arm curls with 1200 Kg in each hand.  But only she knew that
	it wasn't even a strain.  She just used her weights to
	maintain her flexibility.  She wasn't really interested in
	getting stronger, though she kept getting stronger anyway.
	She had to be careful not to break things.  Even if the whole
	basement were filled with iron, it wouldn't tax her in the
	slightest to lift it.

	Matt had slipped out that morning while his mother was out
	visiting her friend Terry, and picked up a female muscle
	fantasy book from the neighbor's trash.  He thought it was
	interesting even if none of the women were close to his mother
	in bust measurements or overall size.  They might be stronger
	but that was only fantasy magic.  Who knew has strong his
	mother was, anyway?  She might be just as strong as, say, the
	women of Paul Smith.  Matt started getting hard at the thought
	of his mother having Extreme Strength.

	Though he didn't necessarily think she would be opposed to his
	having such a book, all the same, he didn't want her to know
	about it.  In fact, he also didn't even want her to know he
	had gotten up yet, so he left his door a crack open (just like
	he usually did at night).  To prevent mother from just
	casually walking in (as he was stroking off with his
	magazine), he braced the door with not just one but both of
	his barbells.  He figured one wouldn't be enough.  He knew she
	could lift thousands of pounds, and had even seen her bend an
	iron bar once.  (She had faked making it look difficult.)  But
	he figured two bars would keep her out.

	Terry stood outside Matt's door and spoke softly.  "Time to
	get up, sleepy head.  We need to meet your friends at the park
	in an hour."  Hearing no response, she gently pushed on the
	(apparently open) door to push it open.

	But her "gentle" push bent the two iron bars and they fell to
	the floor with a crash.  Matt saw the whole thing from his pillow,
	including how she was (without even noticing the strain) twisting the
	two iron bars by moving her index finger.

	"Oh, Dear, I'm so sorry," Terry said.  She picked up each of
	the bars and straightened them out.  "But that's not a good place
	to store your weights.  Or is that really what you had in mind?"
	she said, looking quizical.

	She straighted the bars out not so much by bending them but by
	pulling them straight, which takes tens of thousands of pounds.
	But she wasn't even thinking about that, though Matt was.

	Matt had shriveled up a second ago but watching his mother
	effortlessly straighten out the bars was getting him hard
	again.  She had to hold each bar below her massive bosom to do
	this, but that was no problem because she was straightening
	them out not by sight but by pulling them straight.

	Terry walked over to Matt still in bed with the sheet on.  She
	leaned over him, resting some of the one hundred pounds of her right
	breast on top of him, and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

	"Silly," she said, "if you want to keep me out, just close the
	door.  I won't open it then.  There's no point in trying to stop
	me with a lock or anything else."

	Matt's pole was getting stiffer, and at the same time, Terry's right
	nipple was getting harder.  Though one was on top of the sheet and
	the other was on the bottom, they collided.  This sent a large
	shiver through Matt.  Terry felt it a little, too.  She kissed him
	again, and he exploded with cum under the sheets.

	As Matt started drifting off in post-coital relaxation, Terry went
	over to the door again.

	"Just remember, there's no point in trying to stop me with a
	lock or anything else."  She held up her arms and bent them,
	displaying over 40 inches of muscle.  "Hey, why don't you get
	out your digital camera and get a few snaps."

	Matt wasted no time, as his mother did one pose after another, even
	holding up the one of the barbells again and straightening it out
	some more.  Matt swore it must be an inch longer now.

	"Thanks, mom!"

	"Just close the door when you want to keep me out, dear."

	"OK, Mom."

	Terry gently closed the door.  It's not good for a boy to have his
	only outlet be young girls.  Too dangerous, she thought.