The Roommate's 'little sister'
By Elder Barry Erctwo@aol.com
She's eighteen... and legal in 37 states

THE ROOMMATE'S LITTLE SISTER

(She's eighteen, she's beautiful and she's legal)

Paul Prevenza was watching ESPN intrigued by the outlandishly muscular young
girls competing for the title of Miss Teenage World Fitness. The
twenty-five-year-old college sophomore admitted to himself, but to no one
else, that he had a fetish, a serious fixation with muscular young girls.
Specifically, well-toned fully flexed female biceps excited the hornier than
horny twenty-year-old virgin.

He was nursing a lite-beer noshing on pretzel sticks while sitting on the
couch belonging to his fantasy quasi-want-to-be girlfriend's roommate. He was
unconsciously fondling his genitals when he heard someone at the door. Paul
was certain the roommates would be gone for several more hours. He frantically
rearranged the junk in his pants but relaxed when he heard a familiar voice.

"Hi Paul." The five-foot-four-inch one hundred fifteen-pound prettier than
just pretty teenager dropped her gym bag at the door. "Where is everybody?"
She asked.

"Megan and Becky (Paul had so wanted to say your sister and my girlfriend) are
at the mall; shopping for shit and lunching and shopping for more shit and I
have no doubt flirting with anyone and everyone wearing pants."

'I'm pretty sure you're right about that." The familiar voice belonged to Andi
Malone, Megan's eighteen-year-old little sister who was spending the summer at
the house while she attended a soccer camp at the nearby University, a
training camp designed specifically for elite soccer playing college girls.

"We Malone sisters love to flirt." The comely pony-tailed strawberry blonde
teenager was still wearing her powder blue soccer uniform jersey, white shorts
that hugged her heavily muscled thighs, and knee-high blue and white striped
athletic socks.

She kicked off her shoes and sat herself down on the sofa uncomfortably close
to an already blushing Paul Prevenza. She reached across his body to capture a
couple of the pretzel sticks allowing her firm young breasts to nestle against
his upper arm; he could actually feel heat radiating from her body.

"What's up?" She playfully punched that very same upper arm and then flashed
one of those breathtaking ... 'I'm better than you' ... smiles that guys
everywhere hoped for but rarely received.

She nimbly lifted her left leg straight up in the air at an almost impossible
ninety-degree angle, tugged on the toe of her sock, and slowly pulled it off
revealing a chiseled shapely but muscular well-tanned lower leg.

Andi's leg muscles were stunning. Her diamond-shaped calf easily measured a
well-defined but almost incomprehensibly large 15-1/2" in circumference while
her power packed thighs likely exceeded 24" ... and where something to behold
... Even the girl's pretty feet and toes were turning him on.

Her extraordinary powerful legs accounted for her well above average
sixty-five-mile-an-hour penalty kick velocity; by far the best on the team.

As the agile teenaged vixen lifted and stretched out her toes her calf muscle
rhythmically twitched, expanded, and contracted something akin to that of a
flexing bicep.

As Paul watched her stretch out her arms to remove the sock, he noticed an
impressive bicep rising majestically under the clinging fabric of her jersey.
It was at that moment Paul Prevenza realized he was in the presence of his
fantasy dream woman; his masturbatory go-to girl was sitting alongside him on
the coach ... in the flesh.

However, the twenty-five-year-old man needed to remind himself that the
beguiling girl sitting alongside him was barely eighteen-years of age if that;
no longer jail-bait.

In most states (37 out of 50) as well as D.C. and Puerto Rico sixteen was the
age of consent and of legal age ... but Paul wasn't sure about this particular
state. It was widely believed by many that if sex with these 'vulnerable'
underaged nubile young bodies was suddenly legalized then that's all men would
want to be doing or dreaming of doing or would already be doing.

The sudden rise in teenaged pregnancy at least partially lends credence to
that prediction. In addition, the proliferation of T.V. shows such as 'Sixteen
and Pregnant' ... 'Teen Mom' ... or if you're from the south ... 'Mom' ...
further supports that hypothesis.

Paul understood he was being paranoid. The likelihood of a couple of
salivating mouth-breathing vice cops breaking down the door, mis-representing
her age, cuffing him, charging him with contributing to the delinquency of a
minor, and then dragging him off to prison was next to nil.

However, if he knew one thing, he knew with metaphysical certitude that his
longish curly blond hair, his five-foot-eight-inch scrawny
one-hundred-thirty-pound body wouldn't fare well in prison; hell, the boy had
barely made it through high school unscathed. He had been squeezed into so
many school lockers he had lost count. In fact, even to this day locker #114
at his old high school is still referred to as the Paul Prevenza locker.

"Andi." In order to break the sexual tension building within him, Paul decided
he needed to say something to her so he asked a question to which he already
knew the answer. "How old are you now?"

"Eighteen." Her smile was both arrogant and sexy. "One year older than last
year, Paul ... still seven years younger than you but no longer below the age
of consent." She suggestively sucked on the giant pretzel stick while placing
her still socked left foot and leg in his lap motioning for him to pull off
that sock. "Please." She begged him with her big blue eyes.

"Why not?" Paul could and was thinking of a number of 'why not' reasons why a
25-year-old man shouldn't get involved with a barely legal teen but he ignored
them all and did what he felt compelled to do.

"Oh my God." Paul whispered under his breath. As he slowly pulled off her sock
he unconsciously squeezed and massaged her steel-like muscular but velvety
smooth leg; quietly moaning to himself as he did so.

"Calm down, Sparky." She smiled displaying her perfectly straight whiter than
white teeth. "Paul, It's only a leg." She again flexed her thighs and her
calves demonstrating conclusively that her leg was anything but 'just' a leg.

Andi Malone disengaged herself from Paul and rose to her feet, haughtily
looming her 5-4 frame over the still seated Paul Prevenza as she gently forced
her legs between his. She pressed her shins and her knees forward, raised her
foot, while sensually caressing his crotch with her bare toes.

Stunned and overwhelmed by the teenagers overwhelming strength and wanton
licentious advances Paul could do nothing to intervene; it was as if he were
hypnotized or paralyzed. He was passively compliant unable to resist her
flirtatious advances nor hide his impressive erection from her.

She slowly and deliberately pulled her soccer jersey up over her head and
dropped it on his face; momentarily covering Paul's eyes. Once he flung it
away his gaze focused on her pink sports bra that was currently cupping her
perfect teen breasts. Her deep cleavage suggested that his virgin eyes were
about to be treated to something special.

"Andi, what are you doing?"

"Nothing." She breathed deeply displaying her stunning six-pack abs. "Just
relaxing." When Andi reached back to uncouple her bra, her shoulder muscles;
deltoids, traps, and triceps literally erupted into mountains of muscle ...
her unflexed biceps also showed (lol) promise.

"Just making myself comfortable." She discarded her bra flaunting her generous
34C breasts, her pinkish half-dollar size areolas, and her impossibly erect
nipples.

"Showing off a little bit for you Paul." She admitted as she pressed and
grinded her knee against his straining erection.

"Come on Paul." Her seductive smile was unfair. "Admit it, I can tell you
really really like this."

"Take a better look at these beauties." She flexed her pecs causing her
untethered stunning breasts to dance seductively.

Paul Prevenza was out of his depth and he knew it. He understood that he
needed to restrain himself, disregard this nymphette's irresistible advances.
He needed to concentrate on the possibility of prison life (she could be lying
about her age) rather than the euphoria awaiting his acquiescence of the
forbidden fruit being offered.

"Hey Paul." Andi laughingly tensed and caressed her own right bicep. "Do you
like big muscles on little girls?" She continued massaging her unflexed bicep.

"Would you like me to make a muscle for you?" She thought that was a cute way
to describe what she was about to do.

"Boom - Kapow - Bam!" The 18-year-old tease made cartoon noises, lifted her
right arm, bending at a 90-degree angle, squeezed her hand, rotated her
forearm, and flexed with everything she had.

"Here comes that muscle I promised." Her baseball shaped bicep began to
quiver, palpitate, and pulsate while rising to an impressive thirteen and
three-quarter inches of impenetrable feminine muscle.

"You like?" She laughed contemptuously. "Pretty damn big, huh?" She flexed her
left arm. "Not quite as big as my right arm but still quite a bit larger than
yours, right?"

"Stop it." He pleaded with her and began to rise. That's when she reflexively,
without real malice punched him in the chest and the ribs. "Ow." He screamed
like the wuss he was.

The pain was severe and immediate; he was certain she had at the very least
bruised his sternum and maybe even cracked a rib or two. It hurt when he tried
to breathe, he was afraid to cough which of course he now felt a need to do.
Thankfully nothing about his current situation was funny to him, so he needn't
worry about laughing

"Sorry." She laughed indicating she wasn't.

"Let's see." She grabbed his right arm, using her strong hands she literally
ripped the sleeve from his t-shirt exposing his pasty-white upper arm. She
placed her fully flexed bicep alongside his upper arm and made him flex.

The contrast was beyond preposterous. The 18-year-old dynamo was four inches
shorter than Paul and at least 15 to 20 pounds lighter and yet her flexed
bicep was easily five full inches larger than the twenty-five-year-old man she
was seducing. She squeezed his flabby excuse for a muscle laughing as he
winced in obvious pain; she squeezed some more and laughed some more as he
winced some more.

"Oh my, Paul ... that's truly a shame." She continued to squeeze his flabby
upper arm and giggled like the school girl she was. "Get yourself to a gym,
boy ... They have these things called weights there ..."

Naturally Paul was embarrassed but not the least bit surprised. In fact, if
the truth were to be known he was actually more sexually excited by the
teenager's muscularity and her demonstration thereof than he was ashamed of
his own inadequacies of which there were far too many to count.

Afterall, what did Paul have to complain about? He was being teased and
fondled by his real-life fantasy girl who at the moment was grinding her knee
into his ready to explode throbbing cock.

She too was experiencing a state of sexual nirvana. She was overjoyed,
exhilarated by her unquestioned superiority over the males of the world. Paul
wasn't the first man to succumb (nice word) to her overwhelmingly irresistible
charms and he sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

During her short time on earth, even before her 18th birthday, Andi has
dominated all manner of men; young and old, tall and short, big and small,
strong and weak all with the same result ... Macho men being reduced to
quivering, depleted, exhausted and drained horn-dogs all hoping and begging
for more.

Andi removed her knee from his crotch and shuddered with anticipation as she
felt her second orgasm building within her. The physical act of dominating men
often brought Andi Malone to climax. She was amused knowing how proud Paul
would be if he knew he had brought the sultry teen vixen to orgasm, twice.

She stepped back and effected a spectacular double-bicep pose that fully
displayed every muscle group in her extraordinary young body. Andi was
rightfully proud of her physicality because it was earned; not a result of DNA
or hereditary genes. She had earned her domineering arrogance and wasn't above
flaunting her superiority,

That was it for Paul Prevenza. He couldn't stand it any longer and when that
feeling came over him it was like a tidal wave in his pants. His raging
hard-on finally erupted spewing forth a massive load of warm sticking semen
into his underpants, the abundant ejaculate spunk seeped through his
tidy-withies and ran down his legs.

A noticeable wet stain had saturated his tan trousers causing a never-ending
spreading stain to discolor his crotch area. Was he embarrassed? Of course he
was but he had to admit to himself that it had been worth it. Paul had
experienced the most exhilarating pleasure-moment of his life.

"Thanks Paul." He didn't even care that an amused Andi Malone had noticed.
"I'm going to take a shower." She sashayed away shaking her perfect ass;
looking over her shoulder she offered a suggestion.

"You might want to clean up a bit yourself."

He immediately raced to the guest bathroom. She was 100% right, at the very
least he needed to wash off the front of his pants. But first he needed to
piss and then he needed to address his massive hard-on which refused to be
ignored.

Paul managed to pee directly into the bowl even though his cock insisted on
pointing straight up into the air at the ceiling. Next, he began to knead,
massage, and then vigorously yank on his unusually thick seven-inch penis
until he spurted copious amounts of cum into the sink and on the mirror above.
He ran the water and using toilet paper he wiped down the mirror.

Wishing to leave the premises unseen Paul silently made a bee line to the
front door. He was holding a newspaper in front of his crotch ready to hide
his embarrassment from any pedestrian he might encounter while on the way to
his car.

"Bye-bye Paul."

Andi Malone had confronted him just as he reached the front door. She was bare
foot wearing her white shorts and her pink sports bra which was failing to
cover her generous tatas. She had arranged her blonde hair into two expertly
braided pig-tails managing to make herself look even younger.

"Don't be a stranger." She offered him another double-bicep pose amazed by her
own muscularity and the awe-struck look of incredulity on his face.

"Come again Paul." Her wicked smile was disconcerting. "Come again."

As he stepped out into the street Paul could still hear her snickering taunts.
Despite having just experienced the greatest climax of his entire life the
twenty-five-year-old virgin couldn't wait to get as far away from her as he
possibly could.

"Oh shit." He patted the front pocket of his pants searching for his car keys
which of course were elsewhere as was his car which Megan and Becca had
borrowed for the day.

"Damn it to fucking hell." He swore under his breath as he lingered at the
apartment door. Paul quickly reviewed his options; he could bide his time in a
fast-food joint around the corner or he could uber home or he could wait in
the house for the return of his car.

Then Paul came to his senses ... realizing that one of two possible scenarios
was about to unfold for him. Still remembering and feeling the painful effects
of her two punches to his chest he feared she might decide to beat the shit
out of him ... or on the brighter side ... she might decide to treat him to
another sexual experience he would never forget.

"Oh goody." Andi clapped her hands together like an excited little kid. "Back
for more?' She asked coquettishly. She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards
her bedroom. He too was excited but not like a little kid ...

Oh no! Paul was as excited as a virgin holding his dad's credit card entering
a high-class house of ill repute (read whorehouse) for the first time. His
imagination was conjuring any number of possible scenarios, each better than
the next.

Paul was hoping that Andi would pop his cherry, actually allow him to fuck
her. He was hoping she would rate his performance a C-plus maybe even a
B-minus. He imagined her saying something like .... You get extra points for
your enthusiasm and for being so grateful.

Paul feared that the sadistic teen dominatrix in training would continue her
teasing ways bringing him to multiple orgasms until he was drained of all
human emotion and all body fluids.

Paul was wishing that Megan and Becky would return home and find he and Andi
in bed together. The roommates could join in and perform a menage a trois plus
one ... likely shunting him off to the other side of the room where he would
be forced to watch the girls cavorting while he masturbated.

Paul Prevenza was sill contemplating his ultimate fate when Andi Malone tossed
his naked self onto the bed ...

To be continued ....

The Roommate's Little Sister ... 2,870 words ... by The Elder Barry