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Ursula 4
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
The following story contains adult subject matter. You have been warned!
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© WIG, LTD 1993 All rights reserved
Ursula Parkheart, P.I.:
The Flexing Detective
in
"The Adventure of the Amorous Amazon"
Chapter Four:
Report to the MuscleBossLady
"Great work, JT," Ursula said, her hugely-muscled arms folded
across her lush chest, biceps peaked and rock-hard, huge...
She nodded with approval as she swiveled back and forth slowly in
her leather chair, smiling slightly with satisfaction; I sat on
the edge of her desk and basked in the glow of my Muscular
BossLady's compliments. I had filled her in on my encounter with
the jumbo-sized blonde on the way over; and we were making plans
for tonight's cloak and dagger operation. I had beamed all the
way back to the office, even after Angela and Sally had chided me
on the oversize lady escort on whose arm they had seen me exit
the pool area.
I was glad that I had pleased my BossLady. But...
"JT?....Hello, JT?" Ursula leaned into my field of view, but I
was far away...
I didn't hear her at first. My attention was wandering; the
events of the last two hours had been too overwhelming and
compelling. I had my date, alright. I had asked the gorgeous
Raye-Anne out for the evening; six-foot- six inches of tough-
minded muscle and abundant cleavage packed hard and tight in the
body of a Pet of the Month, beneath the face of a midwestern
cheerleader...
"....out with you? No," the blonde giantess denied me, with a
shake of her head and a look of disgust, as she continued to
twirl the sunglasses.
"I won't go out with you. Raye-Anne doesn't date runts. But
don't cry, little man. You're welcome to come over tonight at
seven for some dinner and a little TV. If you behave yourself,
maybe I'll even let you watch me hoist some iron around in my
gym. How's that?"
I nodded enthusiastically, not sure whether I was acting...
"That's what I thought", she sneered. "Somehow, I didn't think
your social schedule had any major events on for this evening,
huh? And don't you dare come to my doorstep in your cute little
I-wanna-get-laid Sunday best. I want to see you at my door in
that hot little speedo, boy. And nothin' else. Get me?..."
And I would've been happy to leave it at that, but my blonde
musclegirl wasn't going to. As soon as we had finalized our
plans she had told me to take her arm and walk out of the pool
area with her.
I told her that I could walk just fine by myself, but she wasn't
having it; reaching down for me with her powerful limbs she took
my hand and tucked it up under her huge, thickly muscled right
arm; my hand folded around it, the fingertips wrapped around the
rocklike peak of her bicep...
"Walk me home, speedo-boy", she had commanded.
We walked out like that, like lopsided lovers; and as we passed
the mother as she sat under an umbrella at the far end of the
pool, I saw her shoot me a strange, quizzical look; seven-foot-
tall-in-heels Amazons whose huge physiques burst with muscle was
one thing, she must have figured. But what was the deal with the
guy who was on her thick and massive arm, like a schoolgirl with
a crush on a lifeguard; with an erection pulsing in his tight
bikini swimsuit?
"You got a problem, lady?", Raye-Anne asked the smugly smiling
mom, stopping to tower threateningly over the small woman. Raye-
Anne had shaken me off and ordered me to stay put by the
poolgate--"while I tend to this `Little prissy asshole'", she had
said through clenched teeth...
"Uh, young lady, tend to your business", the woman huffed,
sliding her reading glasses down onto her nose and waving towards
me with the paperback book she held in her hands and had been
pretending to read. It was a suggestion that was to go ignored.
"This is my business", Raye-Anne announced, putting both hands on
her hips and flexing thundering thick muscle that towered over
the skinny figure. The woman swallowed hard and began to lose
her matronly cool, her face reddening; she was getting flustered.
Heck, she was getting scared...
"Listen, you old rag, who I pick up is my own goddamn business",
Raye-Anne growled. "Just because you can't get laid anymore
doesn't mean I shouldn't. After all, I've got the stuff guys
want, don't I?", she pouted at the matron, flexing a gigantic arm
thick with years of pushing heavy iron; and lorded it over the
lightweight female below her, who was all knobby knees and elbows
and sagging bosom in a two-piece suit.
Strange how I recalled that the woman had actually made an
impression on me as I had first entered the pool area; she had
even seemed attractive and youthful back then.
....a hundred years ago...
The woman's child was sleeping on the next lounge; oblivious.
"Well!", the woman harumphed. "Such language was never used when
I was a young girl... And your outfit and that of your gigolo is
downright disgusting," she informed us, voice wavering.
And she turned back to the dimestore novel she was reading. Her
hands were shaking with fear...
Raye-Anne wasn't moving. She had a point to make.
"Get up", the muscular volcano of a woman ordered as she towered
from on high. She absently readjusted the tiny bikini top that
merely decorated her huge round breasts, rather than contain them
or give support they did not need. Her icy gaze never left the
figure below her.
The woman raised the book up to her face, and wished that Raye-
Anne would just go away...
"When I tell you to do something", Raye-Anne Hallison announced
as though reciting a law, "you better shake your flat little ass
and do what I say!"
The air became more than tense, as thickly chiseled layers of
ladymuscle tensed and prepared to correct a disobedient stranger;
readying an attack.
There wasn't a breath of air, and the water lay flat and mirror-
like, reflecting the washed-denim sky.
The woman would not look up, probably thinking that this bad
dream would just go away if she kept reading her Danielle Steel.
She saw the blonde-haired giantess spring for her, but could
offer little defense other than a weak wave at the thick and
veined forearm as it reached down for her, knocking her umbrella
off it's holder; it teetered and tumbled to the ground. The
paperback book fell to the concrete, finding a puddle; it soaked
in the sun-heated splash and was instantly ruined...
Raye-Anne's seven feet of dominant muscle made short work of the
woman, as she first lifted and then held her suspended over the
ground by her dyed hair; and made her dance and dangle like a
puppet on a string. The massive muscle of her arm flexed this
way and that, triceps pulsing with each little jerk of the
frightened woman; who sought relief from the iron vise of a grip
by grabbing the lushly muscled arm, small hands wrapping
themselves desperately around the thick limb, as she kicked at
the air futilely.
Raye-Anne never stopped smiling.
The woman winced hard and let out small yelps of pain, refusing
to let a loud cry disturb her young sleeping son, and disclose
his mommy's humiliation at the hands of a she-hulk.
Raye-Anne walked with the woman, still suspended in the air, as
though she was anxious to dispose of a disgusting bug; and
brought her over to the edge of the pool, where she held her
suspended over the blue icewater...
"Listen, drycunt", she said, with a nonchalant tone in her voice.
"The next time you see me I expect to be addressed with the
respect I'm due, you get me...?", she asked, almost in a yawn.
The woman did not answer; her reading glasses slipped off her
face and fell into the watery icebox below...
Raye-Anne did not lose her temper as I might have expected.
Instead she flashed a razor sharp fingernail; it looked sharp
enough to cut a steak. She caught the front of the woman's
flowery faded two-piece swimsuit and proceeded to slice it down
the front. The woman's pale naked flab slid out and fell
exposed, long past it's expiration date for displaying at
poolside; stretch marks predominant across her the white of her
lower belly.
The out-of-date outfit fell away through the woman's frantic
clutching hands and into the cold blue beneath her, where it
floated limply, in pieces.
The nude woman stifled a sob and Raye-Anne let loose a laugh at
the woman's humiliation.
I stood in shock and awe at the avalanche of muscle and cruelty
that was pouring from the big bad blonde.
"Say you're sorry, little naked lady. Say that you're real,
real, sorry you made me mad, and that you don't want to go into
the cold water. Beg me, darlin'..." Raye-Anne demanded, her
voice smooth and low, her thick muscle rigid and untroubled by
the woman's bodyweight as she held her with one tree-trunk of an
arm.
The little naked woman tried to kick herself free one more time,
but it was pointless; and Raye-Anne smacked the small white
bottom with a flashing palm. The woman yelped with pain as the
crack of flesh on flesh filled the air...
"I...I'm sorry, miss. I-I didn't m-mean to make you mad", she
struggled with words she didn't want to say.
"You offended my little guy, too. Really, lady, you have no
manners, do you?"
"Yes, I m-mean no", came words from a head that would have been
shaking with fear, except that Raye-Anne was holding it by the
hair, forcing the scrawny shoulders to do the squirming. The
dyed hair was suffering for her insolence, and some of it was
coming out, giving way in Raye-Anne's grasp; the gray roots
betraying the black hairdye and fluttering down into the water
beneath her.
"Silly lady. You just can't make up your little mind, can you?
You know what I do when I can't think clearly, lady? I take a
cold bath. Maybe you should, too..."
She slapped her lightly, with contempt, the handprint forming in
red on the woman's cheek. She began crying softly.
"Now, now, little lady. No crying", she admonished her, waving
the index finger of her free hand in her face. "Like they said
in the movie---"There's no crying in swimming!", my big blonde
taunted with a laugh...
The woman tried to dissuade her, begging; but the only word she
spoke came just as she disappeared under the sheet of freezing
blue with a small splash, and the word was drowned in a frigid
little wave of white water.
The word, I think, had been a plaintive, sobbing, "please".
Raye-Anne brushed her hands together in congratulations to
herself, satisfied she had made her point. She leaned over and
peered into the pool for a second, her broad muscle-packed back
lowering. Perfect bare iron-trained buttocks stared me down...
The woman shot to the surface with a loud gasp, her hair
plastered down on her skull; her child stirred.
Raye-Anne was done with her, and she bounded over to me with
renewed energy, her blue eyes dancing with the pleasure of
domination, showgirl hips swinging with the sexy rhythm of her
confident stride.
She towered over me, merciless muscle and big breast dwarfing me;
I felt much like a child myself as I looked up at the impossibly
huge and perfect woman.
She placed my arm inside hers again; fingers wrapping around it
as though from memory. I rubbed the onerous bicep, thick and
commanding, with my free hand, as though to soothe it after the
strain of putting smart-mouthed old ladies in their place.
As the gate slammed behind us, I heard the older woman kick water
and drag herself out of the pool, coughing and spluttering much
as I had done.
Minutes later, I was in the back seat of Ursula's car; every time
I closed my eyes some moment of the last half-hour replayed
itself in my mind...
We had let Angela out of the car in front of our building; she
sashayed over to her Supra and, gears grinding and screaming as
she stripped them, drove off, the shiny sports car jerking and
sputtering. Ursula made a comment to the effect that that girl
didn't know what she was doing in that car as we slid easily into
the parking spot the little rich girl had vacated. Already I was
distracted; and no sooner had we parked and I began to climb out
than the lightweight pants, really nothing more than thin
hospital issue pajamas I always used for the beach, caught the
metal projection on the doorframe of the big car; and the old
fabric, weakened from years of use, tore apart completely, the
pants all but falling off my body.
Ursula found it mildly amusing. Her assistant was standing on a
city street in the small swimsuit. Fortunately, there was nobody
around; this was one of the quieter sections of town, and the
heat of the day had encouraged people to stay inside, air
conditioners on full...
Still, I wasn't going to press my luck, and I told the giggling
musclewoman that I would meet her inside. I hustled around back,
to steal my way into my bosslady's office on the freight
elevator...
I was less likely to run into anybody that way. Who needed to be
standing in the lobby in my state; trying to explain why I was
dressed in a Chippendale's outfit?
The door wasn't supposed to open from the outside; it was for
emergency use in the case of a fire, but I had my methods. I
kept a long sharp stick beneath the adjacent dumpster, and I had
pulled it out and was inching the door open when a hand went to
my shoulder and...
"Well, well, well!", came a familiar voice from behind me.
I turned and saw Officer Maria, standing close behind me in
shadow, and dressed in a summer-issue policewoman's outfit. She
wore it tight; tailored and tapered to flatter her wide frame;
the cloth stretched to bursting across the big boobs. The skirt
did her more than justice; tightly hugging the curvy hips that
extended from the wasp-waist. She reached automatically for the
waistband of the dark blue skirt and pulled it higher; another
three inches of her showgirl legs crept out from under the hem.
And, under the short sleeves, were those biceps beginning to
swell on her arms?
"Well, well, well,", she said again. "I think I'm in love!", she
purred, leaning into me with warm vanilla on her breath and lust
in her bursting bosom. She was a tall woman; six feet of purring
blonde law enforcement taking a delight in my bare-skinned
condition.
"You know, JT, you look so good you're almost illegal", she
purred, leaning in to me and reaching around brazenly for a
nearly-bare buttock; she cupped it as though she owned it and
juggled it in her palm.
"Maybe I should take you in to the station", she teased, all
raging hormones. This swimsuit was bringing out the beast in
these queen-sized ladies...
"The other girls on the job would love to see you in those
briefs...", she added, leaning even closer and letting the big
boobs rub against me.
I told her I was on a case for my boss; undercover.
"Undercover? That makes sense, JT. You've certainly sneaked into
my heart...Nice work if you can get it", she said, pseudo-
seductively, pumping a broad shoulder up and down. "I was kind
of hoping you were wearing that hot little thing to catch the eye
of a certain well-built lady cop who could use the excitement",
she said, with just a bit of seductive pout. I never noticed
what great eyes she had; pale, pale blue like the water of the
pool I had just left...
I thanked her for the case that she had steered our way.
She waved off my thanks with a hand. "No charge. Tell Ursula I
hope she's feeling better, little lover..."
I turned to go into the building; the stick was holding the door
open for me, and as I pushed it wide to disappear into the dark
interior, Officer Maria gave my rear end a playfully girlish pat.
It stung; she was stronger than she realized and I jumped just a
bit into the entryway. As the door closed behind me, the last
view I had was of the big-built, statuesque policewoman raising
her skirt to her waist, flashing a tiny black bikini g-string at
me and smiling a smile that said she meant business.
The door shut and I was enveloped in darkness.
Ordinarily, that playful spank-and-flash would have weighed
heavily on my mind for weeks. But with so much going on, I had
to force it to the recesses of my brain. After all, I had a date
with an Amazon!
And I wasn't completely sure if it was business, pleasure, or a
dangerous combination of the two...
"JT, are you with me?", Ursula asked again, this time putting a
manicured hand on my thigh. The touch of her flesh woke me from
the daydream, a replay of everything that had happened at the
pool...
I looked up at her; the late-day sunlight streamed into the room
on her; and I wondered what she would have looked like by that
pool, in that tiny bikini...
"Huh?", I said, aware only now that my mouth was hanging half-
open. "Oh, sure, Sally", I confirmed. "It's just that this has
all been a bit overwhelming..."
But Ursula looked right through her slender assistant as he sat
perched on her desk in the brief swimsuit. Poor JT, she must
have thought. He never gave up...
She rested her chin in her hand as she leaned on her desk,
letting herself come close to me now, turning her beauty, both
facial and bodily, upon me. Though I didn't realize what she was
doing at the time, I did later. She knew my big weakness was
Amazonic Lady Bodybuilders, and even though she had always
treated me like a faithful kid brother, she knew when it was time
to use what she had for the good of the case. She couldn't risk
having me swept off my feet by the blonde She-Hulk, and so she
turned her charms, at long last, on me...
"Y'know, JT? Seeing you like this is enough to give a big hunk
of woman like me ideas", she purred. The hand that she had
placed on my thigh to catch my attention remained there, and she
rubbed my flesh lightly with her fingernails, rising high, near
my crotch, tracing seductive little circles that left
imperceptible scratches on the sun-reddened skin.
Ursula, I had thought, my heart racing...
At last...!
"Promises, promises, my big Bosslady", I said, falling into the
deep and dark blue pools of her eyes; the water in this pool was
fine--warm and soothing; no arctic temperatures lurking to freeze
the bodies of loyal assistants...
I did not notice that they were virtually identical to Raye-Anne
Hallison's...
She grinned like a she-wolf as her gaze alit on the skin bared by
my tiny green trunks.
Seventy-five inches and two hundred and thirty pounds of she-hunk
was getting ready to close in and conquer easy prey.
Did she know how easily she could have me at her feet?
She wheeled herself closer to me and my hand went to the big
bicep, dwarfing my hand as it lay upon it, and I felt it's casual
strength at rest inside the darkly olive-toned flesh of this
awesome woman.
And she reached for me with two huge arms...
"You better bring a box of condoms, JT", Ursula had warned me as
I sat on her lap. She was letting me explore her huge body with
hungry and trembling hands; not knowing that I had done just that
yesterday, on far more intimate a level. In the last twenty-four
hours, she seemed to have been transformed by the prospect of
work and a healthy payday; she was almost the old Ursula of old,
and the slight tremor I had seen in her hands earlier today was
gone now. She was on her game, and I was glad to be a part of it.
Her deltoids looked as though they had been made by a sculptor;
layer and layer of bare brown muscle accentuated her broad
shoulders, and I wanted to get my hungry mouth on them as they
throbbed and pulsed on my bosslady.
My hands looked small on the glorious ladymuscle, strangely pale
and thin as they ran along the wide and dark thundering flesh.
Up to now I had kept my hands off the healthy breasts, though.
Strange, but exploring her muscles seemed somehow less sexual or
daring than would groping the large womanly glands; but my groin
did not know the difference; and I sported another painful
erection.
"How many is this today, JT?", she asked, her eyes moving only
very briefly to the lump that throbbed again in my green trunks.
"Why, Sally", I asked coyly, "whatever do you mean?"
In truth, blood had entered and exited my penis so many times
today, I thought that eruption was imminent, and might come
spontaneously any second.
Maybe even on the lap of my big hot BossLady...
"Now, listen, my little Guy Friday, this is important", she
admonished me, giving me a little shake on her knee. But I wasn't
really listening. I was watching a raging river of vein split
into tributaries down her thick forearm, tracing each one with my
finger.
"JT, this is important, now...", she cautioned again. "I want
you to listen to what I'm saying..."
She poked me with a shining red talon.
I didn't take my eyes from that raging Mississippi Vein.
"What happens if I don't?", I asked her playfully, tracing a
rivulet that wrapped around bowling balls that called themselves
biceps...
"JT,!", she said, raising her voice just a bit, dark blue oceans
of eyes flashing and boiling in a hot flare. "What will happen?
For starters?", she asked, grabbing my chin roughly and forcing
me to look up to her eyes now harsh and joyless. The powerful arm
went to her waist, and her thumb hooked inside the thick binding
that encircled it.
"For starters I'll take off this big leather belt and tan your
bare little hiney with it. And don't think I won't, JT. You
wouldn't like that, would you? Or would you?"
Hard deltoid met my hand. I didn't have an answer, so I kissed
it as it pulsed and throbbed under my grasp.
Too late...
Ursula twisted me around on her lap, and in moments I was laying
across her lap. A steady powerful tug and my speedo was peeled
down around my knees. I heard the rustle and crackle of leather
as she whipped the black belt from around her waist. I was about
to be put in my place, big-time.
I struggled with an apology...
"Sally, I mean Ursula, I'm sor..."
The sharp cracking whip of the leather came down on my bare
behind. I jumped as a skyrocket went off in my head that exploded
into stars; it then came to earth and landed on the tender flesh
of my bottom. And I braced for more...
She used her hand now; letting it slap noisily across my behind,
not using a fraction of her strength but piling on the spanks
now, just hard enough for my bared bottom to become red with her
handprints and sting with her punishment...
Finally, she reached over for my chin and tilted it towards her.
I was breathless with pain, shock, and excitement.
"Have I made my point, JT? I mean business...", she stated. One
look at her grim visage and I knew she meant it. The huge arm
she flexed and nodded down at were solid-gold proof.
I nodded, chastened and brought to heel...
Bosslady pulled the drawers up to their rightful and more
dignified place, and maneuvered me back onto her lap.
She said nothing, but threw the thick strap of discipline over
her thick, broad shoulder and stared at her wayward assistant.
"I'm sorry, Ursula, " I said, buttocks stinging. I used her
given name--it had the hard and strong sound that suited her now,
and I sighed, content to be put in my place so forcefully even as
the pale flesh of my bottom was afire. Her physique was
tightened with anger or stress, maybe both...
Every musclegroup was carved into contest hardness, sharp and
thick muscle groups rounded up into hard mountains separated by
deep ravines that looked as though they were created with a sharp
knife. They were hard and big and worthy of worship...
"I'll do everything you say..."
Ursula now reached for me and picked me up off her lap as easily
as she might a bag of potatos, and placed me onto her desktop.
The feat was amazing in itself; I weigh a good one hundred and
forty pounds, and she strained not at all as she took me in her
huge arms, muscles like boulders; flexing, and lifted me off her
lap and plopped me onto the desk in front of her. She looked me
up and down; not the first time a powerfully built woman had done
that to me today...
I congratulated myself on being in demand.
She held a silver pen in her hand, placing it across her lips,
and sat tapping it against her painted mouth.
"You have quite a cute little physique on you, y'know that, JT?"
I looked down, embarrassed at her boldness but grateful for it,
however long it had taken for her to notice...
"Thanks, Sally", I said. I looked up after a moment. "But it's
nothing compared to yours. You're so big and tall and...and..."
Sally pulled the pen away from the lipsticked lips; some of it
had rubbed off on the shining metal.
"Stacked?", she asked, crossing her legs as a shaft of sunshine
came through the dusty half-open window.
"Uh-huh", I nodded. My eyes ran over her huge body again, wanting
to touch it again...
"And that's not all, either", I added.
"I wouldn't think so", Ursula sighed, arching a brow. "Can't
forget all this thick hard stuff I put on my bod, can we?", she
asked, making her biceps bulge and strain on oaken arms.
Breath ran from my chest.
"Gosh, Sally, you're so big", I sighed, shaking my head dreamily
and taking in the musclefeast my bosslady was feeding me.
My suit was straining, almost ready to split across the crotch.
I almost wished it would, and that I would ejaculate there and
then, and end this sweet torture...
And Sally laughed quietly at my reaction, verbal and physical.
She swiveled in her chair, her legs thick and full of stored-up
power. One of her high heels hung off her foot, and she wiggled
it playfully.
Downstairs, on the street, there was a collision of some sort;
sounds of crashing and crunching metal and honking blaring horns
came through the open window. Moments later, four-letter
language wafted up to the fourth floor and hit our ears. Ursula
winced at the suggestion made by the angry crier that the party
responsible had questionable parentage.
"That's what I like about you, JT. You don't curse and swear and
act all macho and gruff. You're just you. Always by my side, and
ever dependable. Some men don't like working for a woman; they
think that it's not cool or manly, or something...But not you,
huh? I'm really lucky to have you with me, aren't I?", she
inquired, a trifle dreamily now, exotic eyes half-lidded.
"You certainly are, Sally", I huffed playfully, thrusting my thin
chest out and tilting back my head haughtily.
Amused, Ursula stood up, and up...
Boy, she was a tall drink of water. Or in her case, a mighty
mountain of hot sex and pulsing, thick she-muscle. She towered
over me like a wide-bodied skyscraper, all bare thigh, big
breast, and bad-girl biceps...
"Six-three, JT", she said, as though she was reading my mind.
Though in fact, my eyes were running up her long legs...
How hard was it to guess?...
"In my spiky heels, I'm close to six-foot-seven", she purred, as
though whispering the secret ingredient to a love potion. "That's
alot of woman, huh? I'm too much for most guys to handle,
'specially with all these hot thick muscles", she said in a sing-
song of seduction. I tried to climb her with my eyes...
She stretched like a cat, filling the room, towering over me,
making me dizzy with delight. I could hear the blood racing
through my inner ears. I felt faint...
"Not that they don't try, JT. They do. But", she shrugged,
sexily, pouting, "they just can't get me off...."
She put her hands on her hips and whipped her shoulders back and
forth, her arms flapping like the wings of a beautiful and Dark
Angel of Muscle and Delight, a prize I had long thought was the
sole domain of men who could match her size...
"And getting off is very important to me, JT. How about you?",
she asked, breathlessly...
And her muscles danced as she fluttered and flexed the hot
ladybulk back and forth, her arm-wings cutting through the dry
air; the action seemed strong enough to lift her off her feet and
let her hover overhead. Her display fanned the stillness, and I
felt a breeze.
If that was what heaven was like...
She brought her arms in front of her now and locked one hand
against the other in isometric contest; one densely-muscled slab
of ladymuscle arm pitted against the other, her sinews fairly
pulsing with life. The huge arms almost seemed to be breathing,
or as though some secret heart was pumping away, deep in the
massive biceps, that made them contract and expand, contract and
expand; each group determined to dominate in this battle, like
hungry bodybuilders in competitive posedown.
With me as the audience.
I thought that the muscle groups, pumped and flexed to enormity
right before my worshipful eyes, would soon explode; the caps of
her deltoids were full of blood and bitterness at the hours of
hard iron-pushing punishment that they had been subjected to by
their mistress.
But, man, it had been worth it. Hadn't it?
Her musculature inflated...
So did my desire.
She towered over my head, dwarfing me with her She-Muscle. I
felt almost asexual, insignificant and small below her.
"Looks good, huh, JT?", she asked in a soft purring tease,
through clenched teeth, as she looked down at her own arms
approvingly, and winked at me.
I nodded so hard I almost hurt my neck.
"Well", she said, making the triceps grown and dance as she
continued to push her hands together, "be a good boy and you'll
get to see a whole lot more of this big body. Maybe I'll even
need a rubdown after the case. Would you like to do that for me,
JT? Would you like to come over to my bedroom and give me a nice
naked rubdown? It'll make your big bosslady feel sooo goood", she
assured me. "Maybe I'll even let you get naked with me", she
suggested, the words like ambrosia to my senses, thrilled at the
thought and picture in my mind's eye of laying naked in her big
black bed with her, preparing to do things with her that were
beyond imagination; that I dreamed of only at night, when I was
alone and thinking of her...
She turned her back now, and flexing her car-door lats. She
glanced at me over her shoulder, smiling as she held every muscle
in her torso frozen in a huge and awesome flex that defied
possibility...
"How about it, my little loverboy. Would you?", she asked again,
bringing her hands behind her now, half-turning and flexing one
more awe-inspiring time. Her deltoids looked ready to revolt, so
angry was their response to this strenuous musclepose; she was
beginning to perspire, and her skin glistened, hot and
inviting...
Then she spun around again and blew me a sweet kiss through
painted lips...
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