The Woman of My Dreams?
by GJ



Dear Readers: This story is completely a work of fiction and any coincidence
to people, names, localities or other elements of this story is completely
coincidental. GJ

The Woman of My Dreams?

Have you ever looked at woman, seen her sweating huge bis, her dark hair on/
under her arms, her perfect pecs, fully tapered back, tiny waist, gigantic
quads, calves and powerful face eating butt, and creamed instantly in your
pants? One day I was looking on the internet and saw a beautiful woman with
the initials TZ. She was perfection and when I found out she could go from
140lbs in contest shape, to 180 off season, all on abt a 5'5 frame...well that
did it. I had a load full, just as I suspect you would too dear reader.

I have always been a sucker for dark, Latin looking women. You see them all
the time, dusky skin, perfect flawless beauty and a bounty of muscle. I
remember in high school, one female was on the boy's boxing team. Her name was
Grasella. She weighed 168, had a 42" chest, 17" arms and a booty that made one
want to have her park it Right On Your Face. She had a perfect record too,
having knocked out 25 male opponents in succession. Rumor had it that after
they came out of the hospital, she used them as her slave. When she tired of
one, she would beat another to a pulp, reduce him to her own personal wimpboy
and use and abuse him in every way possible.

One day, I was late for chem class and I was running to get to the second
floor before the final bell sounded. Ok so I was a nerd. I was thin, totally
spazzed out, and proud to say I never had one fight in my whole life. Ok, so
once in the 3rd grade, Willa made my nose bleed. After that I had to carry her
books and do her homework and stuff until see moved away to Pamona. After a
while I really liked it a lot too.

Turning the corner of the second floor I ran right into Grasella. As we
collided I bounced off her. It was like hitting a brick wall. My glasses flew
off, my books scattered and I was down on the ground taking O2 in, swallowing
big gulps. I knew I was in for it, because Grasella was known to beat up
nerds, especially ones who got in her way . I just hoped she wouldn't break
anything on me.

True to her rep, she lifted me up off the floor and pulled back her fist. I
could see its hugeness and I could smell her sweat, as she just had come from
an intense workout. "Hope you have a good dentist squirt", she warned and just
as she was going to punch out my lights, Mr Dinker, the science teacher opened
the door of the lab, to let in some cool air. Grasella retracted her fist and
whispered, " See you at three, nerd!"

Well true to all stories of this genre, school whizzed by for me. It was like
she was controlling time. As I watched the clock, I could swear that she had
speeded up and the hands ,rotating them in some wild fashion. Finally the last
class ended and I walked on egg shells until I got outside. Breathing a sigh
of relief, I relaxed. Maybe Grasella had forgotten about me, after all I was
an insignificant worm, wasn't I.

Apparently not. Suddenly, I was picked up from behind and thrown into the
bushes by the library wing. I landed hard, hurting my side. As I lay moaning,
Grasella picked me up by my shirt front, spit in my face and pulled back that
huge fist. "Let's see, where were we?....Oh yes......I remember now."
Bammmmmmmmmmm. She hit me with an uppercut so powerful, she broke my jaw. As
she looked down at me, she moved it with her sneakered foot. It flopped around
like a just caught fish. I never heard her laugh , saying " Did momma break
that glass jaw of yours, pizza face?" She couldn't know that the closeness of
her body, her huge arms, her scent, her perfect skin and her huge tits had a
profound effect on me. When the punch landed I shot my load and filled up my
short pant-legged jeans. Anticipating that punch, I actually wanted it, wanted
to feel the pain, its devastation, all of it.

So now you know why I am enamored with dark, swarthy muscle women. I owe it
all to a jawbreaker called Grasella. Like you dear readers, I look, I observe,
always waiting at hoping that my fantasy life will actually cum to fruition. I
began to frequent gyms, situated in bad parts of the city, hoping to glimpse a
woman who would fulfill my wildest dreams. When I did meet one such woman, she
would look at me like I was dung attached to her shoe. I was a low life, a
slug.

Then one day, I heard some female boxers talking about underground fights. I
wondered what that was about. I got up enough nerve to ask them. As I
approached they both laughed at my gangling physique( that hadn't changed from
high school) and when I asked if they could direct me to these fight places,
they told me it would cost $100 for the info. In addition, I had to kiss each
of their biceps, to prove I was a lowly bit of protoplasm. So, tell me dear
readers, what would you do? Would you pay up and kiss and lick, or turn and
walk away never knowing the possibilities that awaited. After handing them the
money, they each flexed their sweaty, stinky arms to me. I had to lick them
clean, kiss each arm and crawl away. Their arms tasted salty and their
underarm hair was coarse and abraded my lips and face. Crawling away, with cum
trickling down my pant legs, I felt happy that I would soon be in a special
place that catered to my unique tastes.

Two days later, I was in a really poverty stricken area, near a huge packing
plant. Finding the address was a chore as there were no numbers on the
dilapidated buildings. After walking aimlessly, I heard noises coming from
this building. People were yelling and screaming...I heard "Kick their asses",
so I knew I had found my destination. Paying $50 at the door, I sat up close.
The warehouse smelled of urine, blood and sweat. About 75 men and women were
placing bets, yelling, screaming and some even masturbating to the unfolding
spectacle.

In the ring was a female fighter. She was perfect in every way. About 5'4",
175 lbs, all muscle, her huge 17" arms were shiny from sweat. Her fighting
shorts had deep stains in the crack of her ass from exertion. Her chest, being
huge, showed two hard nipples protruding from her t shirt. Now that was
covered in blood but not her's.

Her name was Yolanda and she was boxing three men at once. From the looks of
it, not only was she winning she was beating them to a pulp. Her opponents all
had black eyes, puffed up lips, broken noses and crushed cheekbones. The
unique thing was that she had tied each one up in the ropes so their hands
were useless. Stopping for a second, she flexed those perfect guns and
said"Ok, now it will end, any requests." "One female bodybuilder, having her
ass worshiped by some rich dude yelled, "Fuckin break their jaws,
chica!"Smiling with a gleam in her eye, Yolanda got back to work.

As she approached the three losers, she began to taunt them..."Einy meany
meiny mo, I will break the jaws of my foe." Then she walked up to them and her
finger rested on the middle guy. Honestly, I could not make out his features
as he had none left. Yolanda lifted up his face, blood and face juice was
rolling off. She took aim and Powwwwwwwww, instead she hit the first guy
totally surprising him. She was rewarded with a perfect set of teeth. They
came out in a red spray and the audience could see his jaw unhinged and broke.

The next guy met the same fate only she used him as her speed bag. She hit him
25 times in 30 seconds. When she was done, his face was obliterated. It was
then that some guys began to wank off not, even hiding this sexual activity.
One lucky rich guy was having his jaw rearranged by this powerful looking
blond. She flexed his face until it shattered raining down bone and tissue
fragments all over the both of them.

Yolanda stepped up to the middle opponent now and said "Boooooooo!". He was so
scared he shit in his pants. Satisfied now, Yolanda raised both fists,"Ok shit
head, give my best to the doctors at the ER." Then she hit him, with both
fists at the same time, breaking his jaws, unhinging them and knocking out all
his teeth as well.

Letting the crowd know that she needed 96 teeth for her bracelet and earrings,
she went back to that one opponent that still has his choppers. Raising his
jaw, and holding it with her other hand, she blasted him square in the mouth.
On the red river of gore, 32 white presents floated out. Elated Yolanda
scooped them all up and bagged them as she made her way to the dressing room(
It was a crappy bathroom.),to get dressed and collect her prize money $600

( $200 per man).

As Yolanda entered the room, she peeled off her sweaty, blood stained outfit.
She had really ruined those guys. Some of their blood had even seeped to her
skin, trailing down the rivers of sweat on her body. Now the truth was, She
was a single mom. Her husband was killed in the war and she needed to make
ends meet. During the day she was an EMS tech. It helped her to understand how
blunt trauma could be inflicted on others. She rationalized that each man she
beat up was a low life, all having criminal records. They were the dregs of
society. The warden of a local correctional facility let them out to box in
exchange for perks such as tv, smokes and the odd conjugal visit by the local
putas. She would turn the bloody teeth into lovely jewelry. Toweling off now,
she threw on her warm up suit and left the edifice, signing autographs along
the way. After all this was good money and she needed it all. As she opened
the door, I was standing against the building. Waiting, I wanted to meet her,
as she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I wasn't sure what I
would say or what I would do to accomplish that end.

Holding the door for her, I smiled and said, "I am sorry to intrude on you, I
am sure you want to get home and relax, but I wanted to tell you how much I
admire your athletic

ability. It was truly awesome." Waiting for her response, I saw her beautiful
face relax..."Well thank you, it is not often men approach me and when they
do, it is usually for other reasons. I do need to get home , my son William is
waiting and my sister, who is babysitting, needs to get to her class. She
taught me how to fight, actually. Taking a chance, I stuck out my hand and
introduced myself. "My name is Fred, nice to meet you ..Its Yolanda isn't it."
She extended her hand and for a brief second I could feel her power. Yet is
was not abusive at all, it simply was there. "Nice to meet you Fred. You seem
like a nice guy .... Say would you care to share some great soup and salad
with us. It's the least I could do for a fan of mine."

Did I , should I, could I believe what I just heard? This amazing woman was
inviting me home for dinner. Of course I readily agreed offering to spring for
some Kendall Jackson Chablis. As we rode home in her late model sedan, we
talked about many things: Art, her job as care giver, her training, my good
fortune at developing a new computer chip making loads of money, and mostly
about her son, the pride of her life. We stopped of at a local Toys R Us, and
I bought about $300 worth of toys for her son. It felt good, it felt right.

You know, I felt this woman liked me for Me. I didn't freak her out, or draw
negative comments from here about my gawkiness. She made eye contact and even
touched my hand once. It was electric, it was Wonderful. Could she be the
woman of my dreams? Soon we pulled up to a middle class fully attached house.
It was easy to see it needed major repairs. Yet there was something stately
about it.

Yolanda easily carried in all the presents and her soiled gym stuff. The house
was truly modest, yet there was a warmth to it, like a family lived here. The
first thing I hear was a baby "cooing". As we walked into the kitchen, little
William was on his aunt's knee. As I looked at her closely, she looked
familiar...VERY Familiar. She handed the baby over to Yolanda and approached
me. I heard the door lock behind me and music began to play loudly. Then
Yolanda's cousin smiled and flexed her now 18" inch biceps. Winking at me, she
said, " We have been waiting for you, Mr Multi-Millionaire. By the way, how is
that glass jaw of yours. Last time that if you remember I broke it with one
punch. This time you are in for a full beat down. I doubt if there will be
enough left of you to fit in a can of dog food, right sis? " As I turned I
heard Yolanda say, "Right Grasella, this should be fun. "You can start, I will
finish him off."

I signed over all my extensive holdings to them both. But not before they
broke my face. Then they broke every bone in my body. They had lots of
souvenirs to make jewelry out of too.