The Transfer
By Dreamspinner


Dave Andrews was a high-powered salesman with a secret-he was completely
undone by a muscular woman.  When he saw a woman with muscled calves, for
example, he was drawn to her as if by a magnet.  He would follow her, heart
pounding, lightheaded, feeling as if he were losing control.  He walked
faster and faster until he was right behind her, pulled ever closer by the
sight of her bulging calves.  When he was right behind her, the words he
struggled to keep himself from saying jumped from his mouth.  "Did anyone
ever tell you that you have beautiful legs?"

He never waited for a reply-he always ran before she could answer.
Sometimes he ran all the way home with the memory of a shocked expression
burning in his mind.   At night he masturbated, remembering bulging calves
until he came.  Before he fell asleep, he promised he would never do it
again.


One day, his secretary buzzed him on the intercom.  "Mr. Johnson would like
to see you in his office, Dave", she said in an unusually serious tone.  He
got up and walked down the hall to Johnson's office.  The door was ajar.
Johnson motioned him in.

"Dave, I'm going to have to transfer you to Utah", Johnson said gravely.
"I know it's not the best assignment, but we need someone like you to
develop that territory.  You're to report to our office in Salt Lake day
after tomorrow.  Someone will drive you down to your office from there.
Sorry, Dave, its nothing personal, its business."

Any other man would have been devastated, but Dave was so happy he cried.
At last he would be free.  His new territory was remote-the chances of
seeing any woman, let alone a muscular one, in that Godforsaken part of the
country were slim to none.

In the two weeks Dave had lived in the village in southern Utah to which he
had been transferred, he had only seen a half-dozen, very conventional,
unmuscled women. He was sitting on his patio, having a cup of coffee on his
second Saturday morning in the southwestern American desert.  He felt
better than he ever had in his life.  "I'm free at last", he said out loud,
sitting on his patio, having a cup of coffee before work.  "I'm free to
concentrate on my work in this muscular woman-free environment", he
continued, confident no one would hear him.

Then a woman came out of the house next door.  She looked in Dave's
direction and asked, "Did you hear something out here?  I thought I heard
someone talking."  Her long hair was completely silver, and her dark brown
skin was softly wrinkled.   She was wearing a pair of white cotton shorts
and a blue T-shirt.  But Dave wasn't trying to guess her age or critique
her wardrobe-he was looking at her muscles.  She had huge calves, and arms
like a stevedore.  "Hello?  Can you hear me?" she asked, walking in his
direction.

"I'm sorry. Yes, I heard you.  I'm a little distracted, that's all", he
said, heart beginning to race.

"My name's Joyce Martin.  What's yours?"

"It's Dave.Dave Andrews", he squeaked.

"May I join you?" she asked.  "As long as we're going to be neighbors, we
ought to get acquainted, don't you think?" she said, sitting cross-legged
on the patio. "Are you OK?" she asked, "you seem a little nervous."

"I am nervous", he said.  He had never been this close to this much muscle
for more than a few minutes.  The feeling of not being able to control what
he was doing was overtaking him.

"What about?" she asked.  There was something about her -something that
made it easy for him to say what he wished he could have said years ago.

"It's your, your muscles."  He went on.  "See, I've always had a weakness
for .or I should say an attraction to muscular women, but at the same time,
I couldn't ever stand being close to one.  This has tormented me all my
life.at least as long as I can remember.  I don't know what else to say.
I've never told anyone about this before, and I hope you're not angry with
me."  She had been looking into the distance as he spoke, and he wondered
if she'd heard anything he said.

She turned to look at him.  She had the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.  "Dave,
we're kind of opposites in a funny kind of way.  I've been teased about my
muscles ever since I was about twelve.  Boys would ask me to arm-wrestle.
I always let them win, even though I knew I could have beaten them.  I've
never worked out.muscles run in my family.  My Dad had really huge arms,
and I get my calves from my Mom.  I'm 65 years old, and I've never really
enjoyed being with a man because of my muscles.  I always held back because
I was afraid he'd be intimidated by my strength when we were having sex."
She looked at him with her sky-blue eyes.  "I've never said this to anyone,
Dave.you're the first."

Dave felt a sense of peace he had never known before, sitting on the patio
with Joyce.  In the few minutes they'd been together, his heart had slowed
to a normal rate, and the feeling of not being in control of what he was
doing had disappeared.  "Joyce, the truth is, I've prayed for some relief
from my struggle with my attraction."

"Well, Dave, the truth is, I'm secretly proud of my muscles.  And there's
more.  When I take a shower, I flex my arm and look at it while I
masturbate.  I pretend a man is feeling my muscle.  It's a real turn-on for
me, Dave.  It always has been.  And when I get out of the shower, I flex.
I've got a full-length mirror, and I practice posing like the girls I see
in the bodybuilding contests on TV.  I've got definition that you wouldn't
believe.  Even a six-pack-at my age.   And I've prayed, too, Dave.  I've
prayed for a man who would be turned on to my muscles.a man like you,
Dave."

After a few seconds, Dave asked, "Joyce, can I see your muscle?"  His dick
was as hard as a bicycle tire.

"Absolutely", she said, rolling up her sleeve.  She balled up her fist and
slowly bent her arm.  Her biceps swelled into a baseball-sized mass.  Her
triceps stood out like a rope.  The veins in her forearm filled with blood
until it looked as if there were nightcrawlers under her skin.  She was
right.  Her definition was fantastic.  Dave could see every fiber of
quivering muscle.  "Please feel it", she whispered.  Her smoky voice sent
waves of pleasure through Dave's body.

He traced the line of her biceps with his forefinger, lingering at the
peak.  Then he put his palm on the rock-hard muscle.  As hard as he
squeezed, there was no give.  He felt her triceps next, running his cupped
hand along its length.

"Would you like to see all of me?" she asked.

"Yes."  Dave was all hers now.  They stood up.  She reached down and
stroked his hardon.

"Just wait, Dave, you haven't seen anything yet", she said, leading him by
the hand.  He followed her, dick throbbing, across her yard, up the steps
into her house.  She led him into her living room, and put on a CD of
Native American flute music.  Dave sat down on her couch, and watched with
astonishment as she took off her shorts and T-shirt.  She wore no
underclothes.   She flexed every muscle in her body, turning and twisting
to the music.  Double biceps, lat spreads, triceps, calves, buttocks-she
knew all the mandatory poses.  She knew she was driving Dave mad with
desire, and became more provocative.  She stood with her feet three feet
apart, and slowly bent her knees until her thighs were parallel to the
floor.  She pulled her hair back with both hands and entwined her fingers
at the base of her neck.  She tilted her head seductively, licked her lips,
and made her biceps jump.  The fibers in her quads twitched, holding her
weight.  He could see her labia.  They were moist.

She stood up and let herself relax, arms hanging at her sides.  She was
exhausted.  Sweat dripped from her dark brown body.  She stared at him with
her sky blue eyes.  The music was hypnotic.  Dave was about to come, just
looking at her.  Then she walked over and took his shirt off.  She undid
his belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled off his trousers.  She knelt in
front of him and took down his underwear.  His dick sprang upwards.  She
looked into his eyes as she licked his leaking dick.  "Dave, I think you
like what you see, don't you?"  Her voice was husky now.

She reached around his hips, put her hands on his buttocks and pulled him
into her mouth.  He felt her biceps and her deltoids move as she bobbed her
head up and down.  He ran his fingers through her silver hair.

Then, as quick as a mink, she was on the couch with him, pulling him on top
of her.  She put his dick inside her and began to heave underneath him.
Dave felt her buttocks, the small of her back and the ropy muscles on each
side of her spine, her deltoids, and her iron biceps she gladly flexed for
him.  Everywhere he touched felt like hard rubber under silk.

Dave looked into her sky blue eyes and knew they were going to come.  She
smiled, licked her middle finger and stuck it in his rectum.  She found his
prostate and made little circles on it with the tip of her finger.  "Come
in me, Dave.come like you've never come before and I will come with you.
Come.NOW!" she commanded.


Dave awoke three hours later.  Her head was on his shoulder.  He caressed
her silver hair.  He felt her breasts.  He felt her pussy, still wet from
their encounter.  "Joyce?  Are you awake?"  She nodded.  "I'm going to
enjoy having you as a neighbor."

"And I am going to enjoy having you as a neighbor, Dave."