Snatch Competition

Nis 15, 2024 // By:analsex // No Comment

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“Hurry up in there,” Carmen shouted, watching the dressing room door with her arms folded. Jo had been in the dressing room for fifteen minutes shuffling around and fussing with clothes. Carmen tapped her foot on the floor impatiently, but a smirk was playing on her face. She was loving this opportunity to make Jo sweat.

“I’m hurrying,” Jo said from inside the dressing room. She sounded flustered.

“Don’t make be break this door down,” Carmen boomed. The dressing room attendant shot her a glance, then immediately looked away. Carmen wasn’t the type of girl you wanted to stare at for long. Not that she was unattractive; in fact, she was gorgeous. Everything about her was strong and lean, and imbued with a fiery Latina heat that was as alluring as it was intimidating. She drew attention wherever she went; large smoky eyes, full lips, cascading glossy dark hair, and a body that drew double-takes from men and women alike. But she was the kind of girl you didn’t want to stare at for long because everything about her said she could kick your ass for it. Her years of commitment to the gym gave her a powerful body that was perfectly complemented by a naturally long, lean frame. She was still dressed in her workout clothes as she waited outside the dressing room, and her thick thighs still glistened all the way up to the hem of the spandex shorts that squeezed her full ass into a mesmerizing tight peach.

“Come on,” she called again into the dressing room. “Move your ass, cupcake.”

The door popped open, and out stepped a girl in a pale yellow dress. This girl was shorter than Carmen, and fair complected, but just as gorgeous in her own way, although you got the sense she tried to hide it. Her blonde hair was closely cut in a boyish manner that only accentuated her fine, almost elfin facial features. And she was every inch as muscular as Carmen. Her short frame was packed with lean and powerful muscle, but her soft skin and full-figured curves made her a heartbreaker at first sight. She gave the sense of waging a constant war against her natural femininity; try as she might, could not escape her natural sex appeal. Even pouting in that dress, face scrunched in embarrassed anger, arms folded over her ample chest and pale cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, she was still gorgeous.

Carmen looked her up and down, fighting the smile spreading out over her face. “Wow, Jo” she said, stifling her laughter.

Jo glared back at her, eyes smoldering with self-conscious resentment. “Don’t say a word.”

These words, and the pouty expression on Jo’s face, broke Carmen’s resistance. She erupted in a fit of giggles, her hand clapped over her mouth to stifle the sound. The growing anger in Jo’s face only intensified Carmen’s laughter, until she was nearly doubled over.

Jo stamped her bare foot on the dressing room floor. “This was your idea!”

“You agreed to it!” Carmen shot back through her laughter.

Jo rolled her eyes. “That whole thing was stupid. I always snatch more than you.”

It was true. Ever since they’d started working out together a little over a year ago, Jo had the edge on Carmen when it came to Olympic style weightlifting movements. Her shorter, more compact frame gave her the advantage on the snatch and clean-and-jerk, and she never let Carmen forget it. Partly because Carmen beat her at nearly everything else- distance running, sprinting, powerlifting, even sparring. But Carmen was a perfectionist, and Jo made sure to take every opportunity to rub her smallest victories in Carmen’s face.

That’s where the contest idea came from. Three days ago, they’d gone out for drinks with their running club after a 10 miler. It was a gorgeous summer evening, perfect for sitting outside on a patio with some friends. Although Carmen and Jo rarely drank, they both shared a what-the-hell attitude and agreed to go out for just a couple drinks. But a couple drinks was all it took for their little rivalry to flare up.

Carmen was the center of attention, as always, chatting loudly and amiably with the other members of the group. Jo just stewed by her side, gulping down her vodka sodas and wondering when they would be allowed to leave. Nobody was talking to her. The other members of the running group were eating out of Carmen’s hand. They blatantly admired her athletic figure and peppered her with questions about her training and her numbers.

One chubby girl even reached out and squeezed Carmen’s bicep. “Jeez,” she squealed. “You must be the strongest chick I’ve ever met!”

Oh, give me a break. “I can snatch more than her,” Jo muttered sullenly. If there had been a record player on that patio, it would have scratched to a halt. Suddenly Jo felt a dozen pairs of eyes on her, including Carmen’s. Jo looked around the group and realized they were waiting for a follow up. She shrugged. “Just saying. She’s not the strongest at everything.”

Carmen’s lip curled up in amusement. Jo realized she was being a dickhead. Why did I just say that, she cursed herself. aydın escort But she couldn’t put the words back. And she didn’t want to apologize either. She was too half drunk and annoyed to stomach backing down, even under Carmen’s penetrating gaze.

Carmen laughed. “Well, then,” she said. “Big talk from the chick who’s deloading again.”

Jo’s eyes flashed with anger. She stared back at Carmen. “You know I’m right. I kick your ass at oly stuff.”

Tension crackled between the two of them. The other members of the running crew watched in suspense as Carmen and Jo stared each other down. Finally, Carmen threw down the gauntlet. “Ok,” she said. “How about a little contest?”

This was dangerous. Carmen was ultra-competitive, and never liked to lose. But Jo was too far in to back out. “Fine,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Snatch contest,” said Carmen. “You and me. Tomorrow at the gym. Biggest number wins.”

“Deal,” Jo agreed. “What’s the bet?”

Carmen smirked. “Why spoil the surprise?”


They met the next morning at the gym to settle the bet. It was just before 6 am when Jo walked in. All the lights were out. Beat Carmen here, she smiled to herself. Off to a good start. But when she hit the switch, Carmen was standing in the middle of the gym, arms folded.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Carmen said in a mocking voice. “I’ve been here for an hour already. I was starting to wonder if I should have brought a lunch.”

Jo rolled her eyes. “You’re such a tryhard,” she said, tossing a foam roller onto the ground. She flopped onto the roller and started grinding it up and down her back, popping all her vertebrae.

“Feeling stiff?” Carmen cackled. She had clearly been at the gym for a while already. Her olive skin was flushed with sweat, and she bounced around the gym with a loose, sprightly rhythm.

Jo groaned as she dug the roller into the top of her thighs, just at the base of her butt. She ignored Carmen, but she was feeling stiff. She’d pushed it on the ten miles the day before, and the three vodka sodas she’d gulped down the night before weren’t helping. Her brain was foggy.

“What’s wrong?” Carmen teased. “You’re on the struggle bus today?”

Jo ditched the roller and stood up. She leaned forward, stretching out her hamstrings. The pleasurable painful flood of muscle activation perked her up. “Why don’t you go take some selfies in the bathroom,” she fired back. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”

Carmen scoffed. “Just don’t take all morning,” she said, sinking into a hamstring stretch. “I’ve got big plans for you later.”

Jo did her best to ignore the pointed comments Carmen peppered at her while she warmed up. She took her time activating her powerful hamstrings and doing some dynamic stretches with her legs. She used a band to pull apart her shoulders, feeling a warmth growing in her arms and back. A growing flush crossed her pale cheeks as her breathing deepened. She was starting to feel ready.

Carmen was already warming up with the barbell, stretching out her tawny legs by lowering it to the ground. “Starting to get cold feet?” she called to Jo. “You can just give up now, if you want.”

Jo rose up to her feet. “Fine,” she huffed. She unzipped her warmup top, revealing a tight tank top that strained against her full figure. Then she bent down, untied her shoes, and kicked them over to the side of the room. The gym floor was slightly sticky against her bare feet. “Since you won’t shut up. Let’s get this over with.”

She pulled a barbell from the rack like a knight selecting a spear for a joust. The weight felt good nestled up against the callouses on her hands. She strode confidently toward Carmen and dropped the bar onto the gym floor before her like a challenge.

Carmen met her intensity with a smug smile. “Ok, chica,” she said, kicking off her own shoes. “Want to start?”

“Fine.” Jo slid a couple twenty-five-pound plates onto either end of the bar and clamped them still. Ninety-five pounds.

Carmen eyed the bar critically. “That’s it?”

“I’m warming up.” Jo positioned herself in front of the bar and talked herself through the cues. Feet shoulder width apart. Strong back. She bent forward. Wide grip. The bar feels good in her hands. Take the slack out with your back. Then- “Hyah!” She pulled the bar up toward her thighs, then with a leap she snapped it into the air above her head. She caught it at the top it in a full squat, her butt almost touching the ground, the weight diffusing through her arms and back and into her powerful thighs. Her bare feet gripped the gym floor, sticking to the foamy surface. Finally, she drove her hips up until she’s standing tall, the bar held over her head. Her form is perfect. It’s easy.

Jo dropped the bar down to the gym floor. It bounced a couple times. Carmen shook her head. “We’re never gonna get anywhere if you keep playing around with those babyweights,” she said. “Here, let’s try this.” She rolled a couple forty-fives from the floor and loaded them onto her bar. One hundred thirty-five pounds. A big leap up.

Carmen eyed the bar on the ground casually. Ice in her veins. She bent down, took the bar in a wide grip, then with a powerful leap jerked it straight overhead. She caught it in a perfect squat, then drove the loaded bar up toward the ceiling as she stood. She held it for a minute, her eyes locked onto Jo’s, a smirk playing on her face. Then she let it drop to the ground, where it bounced a couple times before falling still.

“Well?” said Carmen, hands on her hips. “Let’s keep it moving.”

Jo stripped the twenty-fives off the bar and rolled over a pair of full-size plates. She struggled them awkwardly onto the bar, trying to ignore Carmen’s mocking stare. How did she make it look so easy? Just like every other damn thing.

Jo considered the loaded bar while focusing on her breathing. You can do this. You’ve done it before. Easy. “Getting nervous?” Carmen asked.

Jo ignored her and stepped forward. Shoulder width apart. Wide grip. Bend down. Slack out of the bar. And- “Hyah!” Again, she snapped the bar up overhead, caught it in a perfect squat, and drove up through her bare feet. It was heavy, and her thighs wobbled as she rose up toward the ceiling. She grimaced, arms shaking slightly, fixing Carmen with a look of intensity until she was confident, she’d held the bar up long enough. It bounced back to the gym floor, dribbling a couple times before falling still.

“Looked tough,” said Carmen, walking back to the plates. “How did it feel?”

“Fine,” said Jo, trying to conceal her breathing. Damn. That was tough.

“I’ll throw some tens on there,” said Carmen. “One fifty-five shouldn’t be a stretch.”

And on they went, raising the weight first in twenty, then ten, then five-pound increments. Again, and again, the girls took turns snatching increasingly loaded bars. The only sound in the gym was the grunting exhale as the girls leapt up, and then the clang of iron as they dropped the bars. By the time they’d reached one hundred seventy-five pounds, sweat was dripping down their brows and trickling down their spines. They panted damply, their movements between sets slowing down as they stripped and loaded the bars again and again.

Even Carmen was starting to struggle, though she did her best to act like she was in control. “Looking tired,” she said, watching Jo increase the weight to one eighty. “Thinking about giving up?”

“Looking at yourself in the mirror again?” Jo shot back. “I know that’s how you spend most of your time in the gym.”

“Enough talk.” Carmen folded her arms. “Show me what you got.”

Jo eyed up the loaded bar. It was more than she ever snatched before. And the last lift had nearly toppled her. Her knees had gotten weak when driving up, and it took her a minute to drive to full extension.

“Scared?” Carmen teased.

Jo glared down at the bar. Take it out on the weight, she told herself. Show that bitch what you can do. Sweat was dripping down her body. Her bare feet clung to the gym floor with their perspiration, and she could smell the damp heat emanating from the prickly patches under her arms. You got this.

She steadied her legs. Breathed deeply deep into her diaphragm. Tried to banish the screaming pain in her muscles. Closed her eyes. Visualized the lift. Bent down. Grip wide. The iron against her callouses. The slack out of the bar. Then-

“Hyah!” She pulled the bar up from the floor to her thighs, then jerked it high into the air with an explosive leap. But its trajectory was off. Her pull wasn’t there. From the base of the squat, she tried to steady the bar. But her arms were wobbling. The bar was off balance. The weight was coming down. She struggled to drive through her thighs. But she buckled, first her arms, elbows, and then the whole thing was collapsing.

At least she had the presence of mind to push the bar away from her. Both she and the heavy barbell crashed to earth together. Jo landed painfully on her butt and slid across the floor. The barbell bounced then slowly rolled like wheels on an axel across the floor.

Carmen reached out her bare foot and stopped the rolling barbell dead. A smirk of triumph glittered on her face. Jo, panting on the ground, was filled with fury and frustration at her failure.

“Nice try,” said Carmen in a mocking tone.

“You lift it,” Jo panted from the floor. “If you can.”

“Fine.” Carmen stepped up to the bar. Jo watched from her spot on the floor as her Carmen took several breaths before the bar. Her dark skin glistening with sweat. A glitter in her eyes. Her lean body taut and primed. She bent down and seized the bar in a wide grip. And in that moment, Jo knew for sure that she was going to lose.

Carmen yanked the bar up off the ground and hoisted it into the air. She caught it fully in a deep squat, her powerful glutes and hamstrings cushioning its weight. She sucked a breath in at the base of the squat, then with an Amazonian growl drove her hips up to the ceiling. Her progress was slow but relentless, rising from the earth like a rocket ship, arms and legs trembling from the strain. She powered the bar up until she was standing straight- legs straight, arms straight overhead, her entire body one tight line from bare planted feet and up to the barbell over her head that weighed more than she did. She held it still as a statue but for the miniscule vibrations in her aching limbs, that same triumphant smile on her face. And then she let the barbell crash to earth.

Jo hung her head. I can’t believe I lost. She wished for the gym floor to open up and swallow her. She didn’t think that she could bear to hear Carmen’s gloating. Footsteps toward her. Here it comes.

“Hey,” said Carmen. Jo looked up from the floor. Carmen was extending her arm out to her. “That was badass.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Jo replied. She reluctantly took Carmen’s sweaty outstretched hand and let the taller girl pull her to her feet.

“No, for real,” said Carmen. She was still puffing from the exertion. “That’s more than I’ve ever snatched before.”

“Me too.”

Carmen smacked Jo’s shoulder roughly. “You’ve got it, girl,” she said. “I know you have one eighty in the tank.”

“Yeah,” Jo muttered. She wasn’t in the mood for this part. She frowned at Carmen. “Just tell me what the bet is.”

Carmen’s eyes twinkled. “What was yours gonna be?”

Jo shook her head. “Forget it. I’ve got to keep some secrets.”

“Why?” asked Carmen. “It’s not like you’re ever gonna win a bet against me.”

Jo’s eyes flashed, but Carmen raised her hands up. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she said. “You’ll get me someday soon. You’re a bad ass.”

“Whatever.” Jo chewed the inside of her lip. “So, what do I have to do?”

Carmen smirked again. “You know my cousin Kay’s wedding is tomorrow?”

“That basic bitch.” Jo rolled her eyes. “What about it?”

“I have a plus one. You’re going to be my date.”

Jo sighed. It sounded like a drag- she hated going out like that- but it was the kind of thing Carmen could usually badger her into doing anyway. “Fine,” she said.

“That’s not all,” said Carmen.

Jo stared back at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She suspected it would be bad. “What is it?”

A malevolent smile spread over Carmen’s face. “I get to dress you up.”


And that’s how Jo found herself standing outside the changing room in that ridiculous dress, arms folded tight and face flushed with anger. Carmen’s mocking appraisal boiled Jo’s blood. Jo hated prettying herself up. She lived in workout clothes and sweats. She prided herself on her bruises and scars and muscles and grit. All her life, she’d struggled to escape her innate beauty. Those features that had caused her to be coddled and patronized and treated like some kind of rare delicate thing to be displayed. Those parts of her she didn’t choose yet were the parts that others always noticed and complimented. Her pretty face, and not her strength. Her gorgeous figure, not her grit and determination.

Carmen knew all of this, of course. She had been through similar experiences. But Carmen occasionally loved to play up her femininity. She enjoyed the attention, the intoxicating power it gave her over others. Especially men, stupid men who she could hypnotize into doing anything for her with a wink and a smile. But she knew Jo did not care for these games. Jo was stubborn and resistant to playing up her beauty at all. And that’s where Carmen’s wicked plan took root.

“Wow,” Carmen gushed. “You look so pretty. Absolutely gorgeous.”

Jo scrunched her nose in disgust. “I hate it.”

Carmen put her hands on her hips. “So, you want to keep trying dresses on? I bet you secretly love it. Don’t worry, I’ll stay here all day with you. Try on as many as you like!”

Jo bared her teeth. “Fine,” she said. She glanced at herself in the mirror again. The pale-yellow dress was a short, summery wrap. Frilly sleeves covered her shoulders, and the skirt flounced playfully just above her knee. Jo couldn’t entertain the thought that she looked pretty in the dress, but she knew it was the kind of thing her mother would coo over.

“Go ahead, twirl,” Carmen encouraged.

“No,” Jo growled.

“It really does look fantastic on you,” Carmen laughed. “Look at that butt!”

Jo resisted the urge to check herself out. “Can we go now? I want to go for a run before this wedding.”

Carmen shook her head. “Sorry, darling, but we’re far from done.”

“What?” Jo sighed petulantly. “What else?”

“Well, we need to get you shoes, too.”

“I have shoes.”

Carmen laughed again. “You can’t wear reeboks with that dress, silly. We’re getting you some heels.”

Jo’s eyes bugged out. She never wore heels. It was a matter of principle to her. “No way. Absolutely not.”

Carmen put her hands on her hips. “Fair is fair,” she said. “You lost the bet. Or are you chickening out.”

Jo looked up toward the sky, as if hoping for divine intervention to save her from the rest of the day. “Let’s get this over with.”

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