The Confessions of a Muscular Woman
By Laura B. lauraflex@hotmail.com
Chapter Three. Regarding Matt.

This story contains violence and sexually explicit material and should
only be read by adults.

There was an adorable junior on my soccer team named Matt. Matt was a
cutup who fed off of other people's reactions to his tomfoolery. He
also happened to be a fairly skilled offensive player. Though he had
just moved to the area that year, I knew Matt had already made many
friends on the team and was highly regarded. His family was wealthy,
and his budding self-confidence coupled with an easygoing attitude
marked him as an up-and-coming leader.

Unfortunately for Matt, I was the present-day leader. Often, our coach
would have Matt join my group as I led the younger players through
their paces. He was grooming Matt to take over for me after I graduated
in the Spring. I know that Matt found my role as senior captain and
head of conditioning drills to be supremely disconcerting. By now I had
grown used to the typical symptoms of exposure to my body: a guy's
unconscious physical attraction to my extreme muscularity causing him
to alter his behaviors, forcing him towards a "strange" new place
psychologically. But Matt was harder to read...

Was Matt grappling with self-doubt, slowly realizing everything he had
been taught by his sports obsessed, corporate-titan-of-a-father was a
crock of shit? His dad was obviously a huge influence. I saw how he
behaved, stalking up and down the sidelines, ranting and raving at the
slightest provocation. I saw how he treated his wife, denigrating her
and taking her for granted. I had even heard Matt parroting his father,
disrespecting his hard working mom to her face in front of his friends.
One time I overheard Matt making fun of her for being a housewife. He
told her to "get a job" when she worried that he might be cold during
practice wearing only a t-shirt.

It must have been very hard for Matt, born and raised a classic "Alpha
Male", to cross paths with an Amazon for the first time in his life.
I'll give him credit; he played his cards far closer to his chest than
the other guys on the team. But there where clues. Furtive glances;
lingering, fascinated observation of my exertions during drills. I
could see it in his eyes. I knew his wheels where turning;
reconsidering deeply held conceptions of gender. Though I was still so
young then, still so naive in so many ways, I had begun to fully
comprehend my new place in the world... I knew that, inevitably, Matt
would find himself drawn to me, unable to escape the gravitational pull
of my celestial body.

It was obvious that Matt was infatuated with my strength. He was always
boasting in a ridiculously grandiose fashion about how he could do WAY
more pushups than me if he had really wanted to, but that he simply
didn't want to hurt my feelings. I would just smile and say something
vaguely threatening like "Keep it up..." tacitly permitting such
outbursts. Though his remarks where couched in the language of self-
deprecation, they where also meant as a challenge to my authority. Matt
was letting his buddies know, ever so subtly, that he wasn't afraid to
talk down to any woman, especially me. As the year wore on, I even
heard nasty rumors that he was mistreating some of the girls in his
grade. Though my muscles must have relentlessly eroded his assumptions-
demonstrating day after day the inexorable truth of my feminine
superiority-I sensed that I could never quite break the misogynistic
undercurrent to Matt's personality.

But Matt didn't dare expose this side of himself at practice. He played
it cool. He was laid-back and mostly docile when I was around. In fact,
he could be quite funny. Often, I found myself smiling at his antics.
He was a true politician, trying to endear himself to me while
simultaneously scoring points with his friends. Ever the impertinent
jester, he felt secure in his place on the queen's court. Matt's
contradictory attributes intrigued me. I wanted to find out what really
made him tick.

One practice, during a pushup drill, I deliberately forced Matt to
collapse at my feet. I urged him to continue doing pushups, way beyond
his limit, until he finally gave in. I slid to my knees beside him and
whispered in his ear, "I'm really proud of you Matt. I'm gonna stay
after practice for awhile... If you want, you should stick around; I
can give you a ride home." At the time, I wasn't sure exactly what I
had in mind. I guess I wanted to see how Matt's personality would
change if we where alone.

As practice came to an end, I could tell Matt was beside himself. He
had no idea what to expect. I felt exhilarated as I imagined the
thoughts that must have been racing through his mind. I watched him
stumble over his own heel as he approached his mom's BMW to let her
know he'd be staying late.

I waved innocently to Matt's mom as she pulled away. The motion of my
arm caused the sleeve of my jersey to ride up, exposing my large
protruding bicep and allowing it to absorb the final rays of the
setting sun. As Matt turned, he immediately noticed my massive, golden
arm, extended in farewell. He opened his mouth, tried to say something,
and then stopped. As I brought my arm down, I balled my fist, flexing
momentarily. My bicep exploded in response, its veiny peak bursting
with power. Matt stood, mouth agape. I had never before seen him at a
loss for words. I smiled coyly, narrowing my eyes, and stuck out my
tongue in a childish, friendly sort of way. I tapped a ball toward his
feet and asked if he was ok. "You don't miss your mom already do you?"
I chided. This caused Matt to snap-to. He smiled self-consciously and
stared at the ball as he mumbled indecipherably. I motioned towards
myself seductively with my index finger. "Grab the ball," I instructed.

As I walked toward the field, I glanced over my shoulder, only to catch
Matt's eyes glued to the methodical movement of my firm round ass. He
suddenly realized that I was looking at him and turned beat red. I felt
like the Pied Piper of Hamelin as my massive glutes lead Matt across
the field, tail between his legs. When we reached the far end of the
pitch I stopped. Next to us, a stand of gigantic evergreens jutted
towards the sky. Suddenly, I barked at Matt to pass me the ball. This
spooked him, and he reflexively belted it, as hard as he could. The
ball flew over my head and disappeared into the trees. A saccharine
smile crossed my lips. I crinkled my nose and squinted, "Hon, do you
think you could go and get that?"

Without a word, Matt immediately sprinted towards the place where the
ball had disappeared. I heard him foraging around, deep in the brush.
After several minutes, I could tell that he was becoming more and more
upset by the frenzied intensity of the crackling twigs and rustling
leaves. I was overcome by a surge of; of I don't know what- an almost
maternal longing. I realized how cute Matt was, how timid he suddenly
seemed, how desperately he wanted to please me. Perhaps he wasn't such
a bad guy after all. I decided I would go and help him look.

I spotted Matt on his knees, intently peering beneath a large bush. I
thought it might be funny to surprise him. Stealthily, I crept up from
behind, stopping about a foot away. I towered over Matt with my hands
on my hips. My 27" legs loomed over his hunched body like twin columns
of marble. I started to swoon as I realized how powerful I really was
compared to Matt. At full height, he was probably 4 inches shorter than
me and must have weighed 130 pounds soaking wet. I felt an ache in my
breast as I noted that each of my legs were nearly the size of Matt's
cute little waist.

Unsuccessful in his efforts, Matt finally leaned back to stand up. In
so doing, the back of his head brushed against the front of my right
quad. Startled, Matt wheeled around, his cheek and lips grazing the
surface of my umbros as he struggled to regain his balance. He wound up
crashing into me with his entire face and chest, my sturdy legs a brick
wall of support. Matt reflexively sought to steady himself. I smiled
down as I felt his hands groping at my quads. I knew he could feel
their massy contours beneath the nylon surface of my shorts.

Suddenly, I felt a cold hand beneath the fabric; a clammy caress, as
Matt's palm came to rest on the meat of my right thigh. Then, slowly, I
felt it begin to creep. Exploring my massive expanses of flesh, his
hand continued up and along, now daring to invade the sanctity of my
inner thigh. I couldn't help but flex in response to this intrusion.
Matt trembled as he felt the shift; tectonic plates of interlocking
muscle springing to life. Suddenly desperate, his small hand clawed at
my leg. He tried to shore up his grip, but to no avail. He pin wheeled
backwards, winding up splayed out on his butt, a look of utter terror
on his face. This reaction caused my smile to broaden as I suddenly
felt my power surging. I studied his face carefully.

Matt's expression slowly changed. The brief glimmer of fear had
morphed into desire as he processed what had happened. He looked greedy
and self-satisfied. His stupid grin betrayed him; this pathetic attempt
to cop a feel was fully intentional. The cat was out of the bag; he was
clearly turned-on by my muscularity. But like a true son of privilege,
he now expected cart blanc exploration of his newfound fetish. I
couldn't believe it. Well used to his good looks and sly personality
getting him out of jams, Matt took everything for granted. Like a child
caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he acted like he had done
nothing wrong. He thought he was simply being naughty, and assumed that
I would welcome such advances. His sickening demeanor spoke volumes. He
was preparing to continue on with his groping session.

I was appalled. It was apparent that Matt viewed my body as nothing
more than a prop, a set piece on the stage of his imagination. He
actually thought I had dedicated countless hours of my life building
this Temple in an effort to fulfill HIS fondest fantasies and desires.
My mind shifted into overdrive as I contemplated the situation. To him,
I was nothing more than an exotic toy; a wet-dream-come-true. How small
and pathetic. Matt wanted this encounter. He wanted a story to regale
his friends with; about the day he went into the woods with Laura after
practice, about how he had tamed the mighty Amazon. I started to feel a
seething anger. Still, I smiled. I decided I should give Matt a lot
more of what he wanted.

(C) 2005 Laura B. All rights reserved.