The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

On Wednesday afternoon, at home after doing boring office reports in the morning, the phone rang, and the name on my phone was Julia Hantz. Seeing her name on my phone’s screen, it was like every cell in my body went erect, vibrating with hope.

“Julia,” I said on speaker. “You’re actually calling me.”

“Couldn’t sneak that one by you, could I? Is this a good time?”

The sound of her voice brought mental images of her face and body from the other night, and my cock responded. “A great time. I don’t have clients on Wednesdays, so… Wait, you probably knew that.”

“I did. Grace said this might be the best time to get hold of you.”

The impulse to kid around about Grace was there, but I kept it in check. Truth was, I was a bit paranoid about what to say or not-say, because I wanted this woman so badly. I knew almost nothing about her, which had me feeling at a disadvantage. I couldn’t just clam up, though, so I took my phone to the dining room and sat in a chair, and went with boldness.

“Julia, where are we? If we’re anywhere, that is. I get the feeling that you wouldn’t have called if we were totally nowhere, so…”

I could hear her breathe in before she spoke. “Really, I’m not sure. I’m somewhat confused myself, because I’ve never done this before. You have to understand that I’ve never once agreed to a blind date; it’s just not something I do. I always—always—say no. Grace kept pushing and it was easy to ignore her at first, but she just wouldn’t stop bringing you up. I got mad and told her to just shut it, and she did. All was well, the whole thing totally dropped, but then… I don’t even know what got into me. For some reason I called her and asked more about you, and then I shocked myself by telling her to arrange that meet-up. I surprised myself, and that’s where we are.”

“Okay, understood,” I said, again holding back on any jokes I might make about Grace’s powers of persuasion. Julia was telling me things, and I wanted to listen.

“Also, let’s get it out in the open that I know exactly how sexy I am.” Then, in a somewhat lighter tone: “I know you noticed that, because I saw you noticing. Your eyes were like laser pointers on my legs before you were even sure that I was there as your date.”

“Yep, that’s about right,” I itted, because what else was there to say?

“I could play the game of asking what you thought, but I already know. Plus, I didn’t let you or anyone else see too much, because… See, I make it a habit of dressing way, way down in public, because if I don’t, I stir up trouble. I’d like to say it’s my intelligent eyes and engaging smile that people gawk at, but… Anyway, people become strange, sometimes awkward or other times aggressive. And, you know, guys get horny. There’ve been times when I can sense erections popping up everywhere like prairie dog heads.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

“You liked that one, eh? It’s mine. Your friend Grace had a description that I thought was good, too.”

“She-Hulk but not green?”

“Actually no, I hadn’t heard that one.”

“Oops.”

“What Grace said to me was that I look like I could break the internet, only with my bare hands.”

I laughed at that one, too, hearing in my mind how it would have sounded coming out of Grace’s mouth.

“Anyway,” Julia continued, “I figured I didn’t really need to wonder whether you’d be interested in hooking up with me, because…”

“Because of course I am.”

“Yeah,” she said simply. “You’re a guy and you aren’t gay, so all the signs were there from moment one. You’re interested, and I know that. The question we have is whether the interest goes both ways.”

No point in playing games here. “I’m not always the brightest bulb in the room, but I’d say this conversation wouldn’t even be happening if something about me hadn’t intrigued you.”

“True, true. Which, well… This is where things get tricky, because I am so, so picky. Let’s set the scene, okay? I don’t have a steady boyfriend, or girlfriend. In fact, I don’t really participate in what most people think of as dating or hooking-up. You know that I teach and that I’m a painter, but what you don’t know is just how dedicated I am to making my paintings. They take time, and focus, and the last thing I need is someone wanting to paw at my body every minute of every day, taking up too much space. I have a way of shutting myself into my studio for days at a time, no phone and no email, and I’m not going to change that for anyone.”

There was no way I would say this, yet, but it sounded like she needed a sexual partner who lived a couple of hours away, who had a bunch of hypnotized lovers to occupy his dick while she was busy working in her studio.

The phone had gone silent, long enough that it felt like an invitation for me to say my piece in response. So, to move things along: “Julia, you wouldn’t be laying out like this if you couldn’t picture us together. Tell me right now if I’m misreading the situation, because what I hear is that you’re at least considering letting me in, whatever that means to you.”

She sighed, then said, “You’re not wrong, which I have to say surprises the living hell out of me. But like I said, I’m extremely picky.”

“I hear you. But what comes next—you text a ten page questionnaire for me to fill out? Or maybe we go out on a second date where you actually eat something?”

She laughed, the sound rather musical. So many women say they value a sense of humor, and I hoped I was scoring points.

“Let’s start with this,” she said next. “We didn’t have long together, but you saw me, and heard my voice. Describe your first impression of me, with just one word.”

Well fuck, there was a test. My heart started to race because I wanted so much to get this right, charming her or at least surprising her. Words came to mind that I absolutely could not go with, like fuckable or brick-house… And was brick-house even one word?

“Can it be a hyphenated word?”

“No.” Then she added, “I might as well warn you that if you say ‘boobs’ or ‘thick’ or ‘blown’, or any variations thereof, I will not be impressed. I might even kick your ass.”

Kicking my ass would mean physical , so maybe I wouldn’t mind that? But then I recalled the jam-packed muscularity of the woman’s thighs and calves, and how it had looked like she could arm-wrestle a football player and perhaps win. So I probably wouldn’t want her kicking my ass.

“Powerful” was an accurate word, but too obvious. “Incredible” was too vague, and she probably heard “sexy” or “gorgeous” twenty times a day just walking down a street. This test was so simple, but it was also torture. If I went with something like “intelligent” or “charming”, she would feel like I was trying to b.s. her. I could go with “devastating”, but that would say more about me than her. She was sensual physicality to the max, so what about “maximal”, or…

“Abundance,” I said, before I’d even taken a second to second-guess it.

She laughed a short laugh. “Hmm, not bad. Can I ask—an abundance of what?”

“Hey, you have to interpret. I did my part.”

“Abundance, abundance… There are several ways I could look at that, and I’d say they all make me happy. Good job! I might have to give you an ‘A’ for that.”

“Whew.”

“I might as well mention… Over at Grace’s place on Sunday, I put the same question to both Grace and her girlfriend. The girlfriend—“

“Lucinda.”

“Right. She did just okay, maybe a B-minus. She went with ‘developed’. Grace, though…”

“Uh-oh.”

“Her word was ‘fap’.”

I burst out laughing, but made a point of stifling it when Julia didn’t in.

“I know I could have an OnlyFans site or something similar, and probably make a lot more money than I get from teaching.”

Something like Rosita’s current plans. I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but I couldn’t help saying, “Grace told me you go in the opposite direction than that, like no social media s, no selfies on the web.”

There was silence on the phone again, and I imagined Julia deciding whether to call me out or not, on whether Grace had told me this or I had discovered it for myself. Instead, she explained why that was.

“I have my reasons for keeping a lid on the amount of attention I get online, or even just going about my business. People like to ogle beautiful women; that’s just a fact of life. If I show too much of my body, I literally draw a crowd, like I’m some sort of celebrity, or just a physical freak. That’s all harmless, but I’ve had a stalker or two in the past, going back to high school. I discovered pretty early that guys would get downright weird at the gym, or in a supermarket… Anywhere, really.”

“I get it,” I said, and it really was easy to imagine.

“I learned the hard way, I guess. I could tell some stories, but let’s just say I’m meticulous now at limiting how much I’m available for public consumption.”

This was further confirmation of my anatomy-equals-destiny theory. And I couldn’t help but recall the words of Boat Railing Girl in that viral video, where she had been so nervous about baring her boobs outdoors, saying she didn’t want anyone to go crazy. Which probably meant people had.

“I never go to public gyms now,” Julia continued. “I have space set aside in my painting studio for training.”

“And what you paint is a secret, right? How does that work? I suppose I thought that getting artworks out into the public eye is a part of what they’re for.”

“Oh, I intend to show my paintings to the public, eventually. I have something of a plan about that, like a big unveiling. Until then, I don’t want any previews leaking out.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Was this woman strangely secretive overall? And could that be one of the reasons she was in therapy?

“It’s time to change the subject,” she said, her voice bright. “Want to know the one word description I have of you?”

Gulp. “Okay. Hit me.”

“Possibility.”

“I… Okay, is that—“

“Now it’s your turn to interpret, although I will say… I’m speaking about you and me. Only don’t get too excited, buck-o. Like I said, I’m extremely picky.”

“Which leaves us, or me, where?”

“Can we have an adult conversation, nothing held back?”

“Sure.”

“I have a fetish.”

“Okay.”

“It’s a non-negotiable thing. Without it we’re nowhere, no possibility of being in a sexual relationship. And that’s what I’d want, a relationship that is first and foremost sexual. No flowers, no lovey-dovey text messages, no long walks on the beach… I’m a busy woman, so if we did anything… It, us, would be about fucking. You exploding and me exploding. Got it?”

Boy did I, and my cock was so hard that I decided to quietly unbutton and unzip my pants under the dining room table, just to relieve some of the pressure. “I hear you. And I’m a therapist, so I understand something about fetishes. Tell me about yours.”

“I have no idea how common it is. I’d say fairly common, but I don’t really know.”

“Again, hit me. Unless it’s that, hitting people. Literal violence.”

“No, fuck no. I’m strong as get-all, but I wouldn’t get off on hurting anyone. What gets me going… It’s about size.”

She couldn’t see how that made me smile. Please be what I think this is, please let this be what I hope this is! “Do say more.”

“Maybe it’s a kind of vanity, but you could say that I like what I am. I’m a walking size fetish; I know that. Being so tiny in one way, but then the huge muscles and the great big tits. You saw my legs, and my arms are pretty much the same dynamic. I work out every single day; almost half of my studio space is gym equipment. But it’s not just how much I work-out; it’s a genetics thing. My father is a fireman and my mom was a gymnast, and together that all blended into me being me. I’m freakin’ massive, but I’m also really small, right? Five feet tall in bare feet, but I kind of weigh a lot. I’m not all popping veins and shit, but almost every pound on me is, well, muscle. Except my boobs, of course.”

I was silent for a couple of seconds, my cock just aching. “Okay,” I said, wondering and hoping. “You’re both big and small and pumped like crazy, so when it comes to your fetish that means…”

“It means I want to be overwhelmed by size. I was with a basketball player for a little while; he played forward in college. He was a big guy, like everywhere. And that’s the thing for me. Like I said, it’s non-negotiable. You’re pretty tall…”

“Six-two,” I supplied, fudging the number up.

“That’s great, but it really isn’t about height. It’s about, you know, size. Bottom line, if you aren’t somewhere in the zone of eight inches, then—“

I started laughing; I couldn’t help myself. I thought of Joyce and how she’d hated my size, and then how it had been so easy to capture Gina because she had this same fetish. Here was a woman with a body so smoking hot that even Gina’s paled, and she wanted a great big toy to play with.

To hell with any subtlety here. “Julia, I was eight inches when I was fifteen, and it didn’t stop there. I’ve got what you want, I promise.”

She was quiet for a few seconds, then sighed. “Guys will claim anything to get their paws on me. I’ve been there.”

“So here we are, with trust issues already. What would it take…”

But of course. The idea was there, and I knew I was going to do something I’d never done in my life. I lowered my pants and stood, and said, “I’ve never sent a dick-pic in my life and I’m not going to start now, but I’ll come close.”

“What do you mean?”

I meant fondling my rod while picturing her as she’d looked in the restaurant. My underwear was still on, but it was being taken on a very visible ride outwards, and I turned on the camera and stood straight, pointing down.

“I don’t know if you heard that click or not. Give me a second… There, proof of stated claims is headed your way.”

“I can’t believe you’re… It’s here and… That’s… Holy shit!”

She coughed and I wondered if she’d gone speechless. I looked down and decided to fully unsheathe my broadsword into the room. If my meat’s dimensions became the reason I got a crack at this woman’s mega-rockin’ body, I would have to throw it a fucking parade.

“That’s, um… I can tell…” She cleared her throat, and didn’t go on.

I could hear her breathing, though. Praise Jesus, it was working! She wasn’t hypnotized, yet, but she had a definite weak spot, and exploiting that might get her hypnotized.

Talking like a hotshot was not my style, but maybe tickling her fetish could close the deal. “You know, I had a girlfriend once who was the opposite of you, in that she wished I was a whole lot smaller. I get it; statistically I’m in the freak zone, and tastes differ. One woman I was with said I had a horse dick, and another called it a monster cock. I find those descriptions a little rough around the edges, but I guess they’re accurate in their way. I’m kind of like you; we’re essentially freaks of nature in that we’re so far away from what is average.”

I gave her space to speak. She didn’t, and I took this to be stunned silence. Might it even be a lubricating silence?

I went on. “Just to be clear, it isn’t monstrous at all. It’s perfectly straight and I’d say rather pretty as circumcised cocks go. Then again, did you ever see the movie Young Frankenstein, where it’s a running joke that the monster has a really big one? I saw that with a girlfriend in college, and she kept elbowing me in the side because—”

“Okay, I get it! Fuck! This is actually for real!”

I had her! Julia Hantz had no interest in long walks on a beach; what she wanted was for her fingers to be able to take an extended stroll upon a thick, pulsing shaft. I looked down again at my one-eyed monster, so eager for this woman that it had deepened in color. The two of us could hear the excitement in the way Julia was breathing into her phone.

“Julia, I can’t help it—this conversation has me staying fully hard, and feeling like I’m bigger than ever. Sooo… Back to where we were before, about where we are?”

She laughed. “Wow, I guess I’ll be quicker on the trigger the next time Grace tries to talk me into something! Fuck, let me think… Do you have a girlfriend? Lovers?”

Ouch. I thought of lying, but my second or two of hesitation was probably giving me away. “I consider myself polyamorous,” I went with. “No steady relationships right now, but I’m not without options.” Then, because I was all about poking at her fetish: “I’m not bragging here, but women I get involved with… They tend to view me as a rare find.”

“I’ll bet they do.”

“So what about you? You say you don’t want anyone around crowding your creative time, but…”

“I have plenty of options, too. Hell, like probably half the world if I wanted. My therapist says she thinks I could be one of the sexiest women alive right now, and sue me—I’m not going to disagree.”

She was confident, that was for sure. And I had to smile, at how she’d gone from being super hard-to-get, to telling me that in her therapist’s expert opinion, she was a great and rare lay.

I heard Julia make a little sound, and the question popped into my mind—was she the one fapping now? I tried to picture her with her hands down her pants, or with one boob out, pinching at a nipple. It wasn’t as easy to create a mental image as I wished because I hadn’t seen enough of her body to conjure firm details.

“Julia, are you—”

“‘Monster cock’ and ‘horse dick’, huh? Any other nicknames?”

I thought back. “One girl in college started calling it ‘Longfellow’, and of course she was an English major.”

“I was mostly homeschooled after I started developing, but I was in a public school for three months of the eleventh grade. Even in that short amount of time I heard plenty of nicknames—Quadzilla, Your Thighness, Little Kraken… There were some shithead guys who’d softly moo like a cow whenever they saw me in the hallway, and I thought that was in reference to my boobs. But no; somebody told me it was more about my calves.”

I laughed lightly.

“If I hadn’t been mostly hiding my boobs, though, even back then… You didn’t get much of an indication the other night, but they’re damned impressive.”

There was no denying it now—she was talking herself up, essentially selling herself. Hearing about the size of my equipment had completely flipped the dynamic between us, so that now, to at least some tiny degree, she was pursuing me!

“There was this guy that year, Ethan something, who wouldn’t stop nagging at me to try to crush a watermelon with my thighs. I thought he was just being ridiculous, but later on I discovered that a gaudy display of leg strength is a fetish. There’s all kinds, right?”

“There sure are,” I agreed. And then, pulsing even more, “Did you ever try to do it?”

“Burst a watermelon with my thighs?” She giggled. “I actually did. It took longer than it should have because watermelons are essentially round and don’t want to stay in place, but yeah. The poor thing never stood a chance.”

Fuck, was this woman ever making me horny! I cleared my throat and said, “Julia, let’s—”

“Have you ever had muscle-sex?”

Her question was like dynamite going off in my brain and my balls. That dream, where I’d awakened with those very words teasing at me… I thought of Mira’s spectacular body, and Gina’s, and Terri and Alma hypnotized into developing their bodies. Wasn’t I getting muscle-sex everywhere?

“Sure, I guess.”

She was breathing into her phone in a way that was different than before. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

I wanted to get this right. I had her unless I blew it. And if I fucked-up, and she broke free and swam away before I even got one shot at fucking her, and hypnotizing her…

“No, maybe I don’t. I mean, I’ve had some extremely fit lovers, like they—“

“Hold on, almost there,” she said, followed by, “You work tomorrow, right?”

Almost where? “Right.”

“But you could meet me for dinner this evening, if I found a place that’s about halfway between us. It would be something like… Okay, it’s a ninety minute drive for you, and roughly the same for me.”

Was this really happening? Now I was the one on the verge of hyperventilating, wondering if I might be a couple of hours away from getting some red-hot muscle sex, whatever that was. I tried to keep my voice steady when I said, “Just text me the place and the time. I’ll be there.”

“I’m done with teaching until September—school’s out, so timing is flexible. I’m booking an Airbnb right now, in a nowhere town called Hollow’s Bridge. I’m not going to drive back tonight in the dark, so… It’ll be beautiful; think horse country with fresh air and rolling hills. I see some decent restaurants not too far away… I said I’d treat if we had dinner again? Come to where I’m staying, at six-thirty. I’m sending a pin to your phone right now, of where it is.”

It appeared on my phone a few seconds later. “Got it.”

“See you at six-thirty,” she said, and she hung up.

My throbbing cock did not literally power my Audi to its destination that evening, but it sure did feel like a distinct connection developed between my groin and my right foot, urging me to drive faster.

I’d packed an overnight bag just in case—I was used to doing that now, from occasionally sleeping at Gina’s. There had been no promise that Julia and I would end up fucking tonight—we had literally only spent about ten minutes in each other’s company, and then that phone call. But the breathlessness in her voice after learning that I was a very big boy, and her asking me whether I’d ever had muscle-sex…

I kept replaying every bit of information that I had about Julia—what she looked like, what she sounded like, her bright eyes and cheerleader smile. And the way it had looked like her biceps muscles and boob-flesh must press against each other all day long, because they all bulged so much. And Christ, saying that all she’d really want from me would be fucking and exploding? Groan, and be still my beating meat!

Once off the interstate, I had to work even harder to keep the lead out of my foot. I was certain I had not desired a woman this much since Mira, which was kind of weird when there was so much of Julia’s body that I hadn’t even seen yet.

Was that part of why the woman made me horny beyond horny, like my eyes and brain had been given just enough of a teaser that my balls just fucking had to see the entire film of Julia Does Michael? It was like that, a fucking need to see her body naked. And then, fuck yes, to mash her muscles and drill into the wetlands between those super-thicc thighs. Imagining it too hard had me literally drooling, having to lift a hand from the steering wheel to wipe at my mouth.

Traffic became thick, too, when the road narrowed to a single lane. It started to rain and I turned on the wipers, and they had a duh-duh—dah repetitive cadence, which in my mind became mus-cle sex, mus-cle sex.

What on earth was muscle sex? The woman posing and flexing like they do in fitness competitions, standing right in front of me while I tugged at my meat? I recalled the female bodybuilding book that I’d thumbed through at Gina’s apartment, and how page after page of ripped physiques hadn’t really done much to make my cock feel pumped. Gina was entirely different—she’d cracked the code for packing plenty of curviness into a pumped-up workout body, and now there was Julia, who took things to an entirely different level.

“She’s also cracked the code on how to have me panting like a dog,” I said to myself.

Thank fucking God I had what it took to crack her code wide open, too. ing a Burger King I spoke again, saying a loud, “Thank you!”, aimed at the gods who gave out whoppers here and there among the human population.

That only gave me a chance, though, and she’d made it sound like she wouldn’t allow repeat performances with any frequency. Would it be like that, a deep dive into muscle heaven only once, or at best every blue moon? From my perspective, fuck that—I wanted the woman stroking my dick, rather than making brushstrokes on a big canvas. And to get there, I needed to find some way to get Julia to try my patented relaxation technique.

With only a few miles to go before arriving at her rental place, I tried to envision the evening. We would go out to dinner first, and I’d make no mention of my special technique. Afterwards, please-please-please, I’d drop her back at her place and she’d bestow me with her amazing body for dessert. She could down my cum as an after-dinner drink, and only after sex would I keep my eyes and ears peeled for some means of prying into her psyche.

The rain let up right as I saw a sign telling me I was about to enter the municipality of Hollow’s Bridge. I slowed to the posted speed limit and rolled past a gas station and a tiny post office, and concluded that I might have already ed through the entire town. Right after, I came to the turn-off for Julia’s Airbnb rental. It was a brick two-story carriage house, located about two-hundred yards behind a stately 19th century mansion. The carriage house had its own long driveway, and parked in front was a black Subaru CrossTrek. When I saw the car, I knew I’d half-expected that I’d find nothing there but a bicycle.

I parked and walked to the front door, which opened before I could knock.

“Hi, handsome,” Julia said, peeking around the door’s edge, her expression mischievous.

“Hi, gorgeous,” I said in turn, following her lead.

Then all language failed me, because I was inside and she was standing in front of me wearing nothing but tiny gym shorts and an old t-shirt with the sleeves torn off. The woman’s fucking body…

She squared up to me and pretty much thrust her chest out. Centered on the bulging expanse that was her t-shirt, being stretched every which way by her mighty tits, were the words, Who Needs A Toaster When Even My Sandwich Bread Gets Hard?

Maybe I would have laughed, only my brain felt small because the energy in my dick and balls suddenly felt like it could power every home between here and the nation’s capital. On a mission, Julia stepped in close, looking up at my face while her hands unbuckled my belt and unfastened my pants.

I was still trying to form words of some kind when she pulled my pants and underwear down and took hold of my throbbing beyond-erect meat. “Oh fuck yes! That’s what I’m talking about!” she said, squeezing and fingering with her head tilted down to survey the form and dimensions of what she had in her hands.

I looked down, too, at the powerful shoulders and the breadth of her covered breasts, and the obvious strength of her insanely developed arm muscles. I wanted to see the even greater power of the woman’s thighs and calves down there, but her tits blocked the view.

She kept feeling all along my aching meat, force-whispering, “I am going to fuck this beast until you can’t even see straight!”

She tugged with both hands, speeding up all of a sudden into an ambush hand-job. I made some noise that might have conveyed astonishment just before there was a dizzying rush that had my ass clenching. And then I became an outright firehose, spurting all over her hands and forearms and shorts.

I might have collapsed to the floor if her hands hadn’t been so tightly wrapped around my meat, essentially holding me up with it. I felt momentarily delirious and transported, and a few seconds later it occurred to me that I should probably feel embarrassed, too. Never in my life had I come prematurely like that.

“Perfect,” she said, still holding tight, and there wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in the word. “Now you’ll be able to last longer!”

Deep in everyone’s psyche lie fables or myths, which might include tales of going into some remote cottage and finding a witch or enchantress there. In my wobbly brain right then, an enchantress had just jerked the most seeds ever right out of my fleshy beanstalk, and the allure of her body had me hoping this tale included a magical fountain of cock-resurrection, so we could do that and much more a dozen times before the bells for midnight chimed.

Because damn straight her nickname could be Rule-ya Pants—the woman had been in charge of my dick from the moment I stepped inside her Airbnb, and already she’d yanked an explosion for the ages out of me. Hell, the intensity of the lust she inspired in me meant she’d had a firm hold on my hormones from the moment she came dripping towards my table at the Japanese restaurant.

That did not change when she gestured to the steps that led to the second floor of the carriage house, where the bedroom must be. She went ahead of me, and as I followed her up the stairs my eyes became glued to her dynamic double-bubble ass, and thigh muscles so big and bulging that I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around them, much less my hands.

It was insane, but her extreme physicality had my cock making superhuman efforts to become stiff again by the time I reached the second floor. There, a short carpeted hallway to the left opened into a cozy bedroom with beautiful hardwood flooring and a slanted ceiling. The light was behind Julia, turning the extremes of her form into the simplicity of a nearly featureless silhouette, and this time it was the precipitous swelling of her tits that got to me, creating a surge that really did have me halfway hard again by the time the bed came into view.

Quickly and efficiently, she pulled her shorts and panties down her legs, stepping out of them. The shirt came over her head next, and there she was wearing nothing but a white lace bra with two oversized cups. Her hands went to her back and the bra’s grip loosened, before it was pulled away.

I just gaped, and grew. This was a body that was a phenomenon, a true anatomical outlier, and as I took in the details I would swear I could actually feel my balls getting hotter by the second.

“Good boy,” she said, the words aimed at my revived cock. “I’m going to direct everything, got it? Lie down on your back with your head right there, your legs together. You can touch my body any way you want, but do not move your torso at all, no matter what I do or say. Got it?”

The ‘got it?’ language and speaking to my erection like it was an obedient dog might diminish the moment if spoken by someone with less spectacular looks. Romantic she was not, but the pulsing of my resurrected dick communicated to me that right now, romantic gestures were very much overrated. It was incredible to me that I was hard again already, and just as strange that she seemed to have an attitude of expecting my cock to be ready for launch again. But then, with a body like hers for inspiration, why not?

I got on the bed and arranged myself in the direction she wanted, and just marveled at the physique that positioned itself above me. Julia settled her knees at my hips, and seeing the sleek mega-mass of her bulging thigh muscles up close like this had me feeling like reality itself was being bent by their gravity. Her tits were like that, too, big and broad and just powerful in their combination of thrust and mass.

“Promise me you won’t move, no matter what I say or do,” she said, raising one knee, bringing a foot closer to my waist. It also brought a completely hairless pussy up and a bit forward, poised no more than an inch behind the tower of my cock.

“I promise!” I said, surprised at the urgency in my voice.

“Now that you really see me,” she said as her hands slowly stroked my meat, “tell me in one word what I am.”

It wasn’t a test this time, but a form of foreplay, or maybe part of a ritual that got her off. And there was no hesitation this time, with only one response possible. “Magnificent!”

“And you’re fucking hung,” she said in response, bringing the other knee up, bending at the waist and squatting so the tip of my cock just barely brushed at her entrance.

She leaned her upper body even more forward, bringing those glorious tits much closer to my face. I reached up and felt some of their weight warming the palms of my hands, ing to keep everything else completely still.

“My pussy is really small, extremely tight,” she said, and it was more a statement of fact than either an apology or an enticement. “There’s no way I’ll be able to fit more than a few inches of you inside me.”

She was making with me, organically wetting the peak of my tower. I’d barely touched her so far but that didn’t seem to matter; she was sopping wet. Her expression was intense, her eyes closing with her head tilted slightly back, and as she made tiny circular motions, twat to tip, my eyes roamed everywhere, wanting mental photographs to cherish forever of this fucking body.

“You’re too big!” she said at full volume, easing her haunches down so a little bit of me squeezed inside.

I probably made some sort of goofy face that she couldn’t see. God fucking damn she was tight, far too tight for this to ever work. She was a whole lot tighter than even Joyce, and look at how that—

“Fuuuck!” I said, suddenly drawn a tiny bit deeper inside. The slick squeeze of this woman…

“You’re too big!” she repeated, louder this time. I didn’t really see her move but she was using her powerful legs to draw me alllmost out, and then slowly back in.

Only a little bit in, though. I could see quite visibly that she didn’t have more than two inches or so in there, and going by the python grip of me stretching the fuck out of her, I was beginning to think that was about as much as she could take.

“You’re too big, you’re splitting me apart!”

Those were action words, and the impulse was there to do something, change something, maybe even stop this before she suffered real damage. I would have done exactly that with Joyce way back when, but I ignored those impulses this time, keeping my promise to lie still.

“Oh fuck Michael, you’re just too big! I’ll never be able to…”

But she did, if even a tiny bit, lowering herself more so maybe another half-inch of me plowed in. The pressure on my meat was tremendous and wonderful at the same time, and I understood that Julia had known exactly what she was doing downstairs. Without having been strategically drained, the awesome visuals of her body and the juicy grip of her cunt would surely have had me erupting by now.

“Oh shit you’re tearing me apart!” she screamed. “You’re fucking… You’re fucking destroying me!”

She wasn’t doing anything to draw me out, though, and the reddening of her cheeks and the twisting of her mouth looked more like a woman on the verge than a woman in distress.

“You’re tearing me apart! I can’t…”

This was her thing, her fetish. I didn’t need to know the why of it, the origins or anything else. I just needed to be hard and stay the fuck still, and watch the fireworks when they came.

“Oh fuck! Michael! You’re tearing me… I’ve never… Oh fuck I’ve never…”

There was no guesswork when she detonated. Her mouth opened wide and sounds came out almost like wind, first sounding like “Ahhh!”, and then “Gahhh!”, and then “Nahhh!”. It was the soundtrack to pussy walls clenching even tighter, and I was flooded with heat in there, with every bit of her flesh that I could see flushing red. Massive muscles tightened and her pussy clenched more, and more again, and up above all that her head was rocking, blonde hair flying.

As if there was a further explosive “pop” in her tunnel, she was suddenly lifted up and off me at the hips, only to crash her weight forward and down, my cock between her thighs and the mass of her breasts cushioning the with my chest. I could feel how her entire body was quivering, those movements ing right into me.

I still had not moved, and only when the shaking of her body eased did I shift enough that she settled more or less beside me. She drew a leg up to my waist so my erection found a nesting place at the inner bend of her knee, making with both thigh and calf muscle, and she let out a long and rumbling groan of satisfaction.

I placed one hand on Julia’s back, another on the right cheek of her butt, and what I felt was what she had so much of —firm developed muscle. I thought of saying something, but didn’t. Instead, my mind replayed the visuals of what I’d just seen, and the sounds I’d just heard, Julia’s crimson AhhhGahhhNahhh orgasms. I had heard and seen many an orgasm lately, and were any of them, even Terri’s and Gina’s over-the-top yellow-sun orgasms, any more intense that what I’d just witnessed? All that from a woman I hadn’t even hypnotized yet.

Damn. It was as if all I had accomplished so far, stretching my talents to the limits, had only allowed those women to catch up to what was humanly possible.

I wasn’t sure what to think. Meanwhile, my cock was still as hard as stone.

“I have never come that hard,” Julia said in soft tones that spoke of total satisfaction. “It was like electric current, like the fucking biblical flood, like… You’re a keeper. No, no, you’re number one.”

My dick would have swelled even further with pride, if it could. I decided this was a good time to begin testing the waters, wondering if I could somehow hypnotize this one-in-a-zillion woman.

“It sounds to me like being number one should give me unique privileges,” I ventured.

She lifted her head, and looked into my eyes. Julia’s confidence showed in her when she replied, “I did promise you some muscle-sex, didn’t I?”

My cock twitched, and I could see that she felt it move.

“Oh Michael. You are going to so fucking looove this!”