HITTING THE WALL
by Kandor
Little Pete is helpless in Jan's 36 inch thighs 


	Pete hated being a small man in a big world. That's why he ran 10 miles a day, 
racing through the park after work trying to relieve some of the stress. He could 
handle having asshole bosses at work and facing everyday assholes everywhere else. 
What he couldn't handle was his size.

	Or lack of it, he'd think as he ran down the jogging trail.  And that's one 
stress he couldn't run away from, no matter how fast he pumped his Reeboks through 
the park. At 5-foot-4 and 125 pounds, he was literally lost in a crowd, often finding 
himself standing on his tiptoes just to see between shoulders at a ballgame when the 
crowd jumped to its feet.  And that's why he ran, as well as lifted weights and did 
aerobics. Somewhere deep in his subconscious mind, there was this irrational thought 
that all that exercise would somehow make him bigger.

	These were the thoughts that plagued him as he ran,  thoughts that absorbed him 
until he was oblivious to all else. And that's why this day, he never saw it coming, 
but felt it in a very big way, and the first thought that entered his stunned mind 
was 'Who the fuck built a brick wall in the middle of the jogging trail?' His head 
was down and he ran flat into something solid as stone and big enough to bounce him 
from a full-tilt run to a dead stop, flat on his ass, about 10 feet back from impact.

	"You really should watch where you're going?" he heard someone say. "There are 
other people out here, you know."

	The husky female voice was speaking to him from above. Way above. He rubbed his 
eyes and looked up - and straight into the longest legs he'd ever seen outside the 
NBA.  Only these were bigger, more muscular, and far more beautiful than anything 
found on a basketball court.

	"Pardon me?" he asked, struggling to stand up.

	But then he was up, very much up, as in aloft. Two massive hands held him under 
his arms and lifted him off his feet like he was a stuffed animal. His vision cleared 
and he found himself staring into a pair of summer-sky blue eyes that were staring 
back at him from a gorgeous face framed by silky blonde hair pulled back in a tight 
ponytail.  Pete looked down; his feet dangled like a child sitting in a too-big 
chair, about a foot off the dirt path below. He gulped loudly.

	"I said you should watch where you're going," the woman said. "Never know who 
you might run into."

	And then he was on the ground again, unceremoniously dumped there by the big 
stranger. His knees buckled and he folded at her feet. Blinking, he looked up from 
the biggest pair of girl's running shoes and white sweat socks he'd ever seen and 
tried to look at that gorgeous face again. But his neck hurt as he craned it back, 
from the impact of running headlong into that rocky belly and the angle he was forced 
to tilt his head just to look at her.

	He finally got up and looked squarely into the fleshy wall that did him in. The 
big woman's rippled, tanned abdomen was deliciously exposed by the midriff shirt she 
wore. Even standing, he still had to look up to see that beautiful face.

	"Excuse me for asking, but just how..." he started to say.

	"...big am I?" she finished for him, smiling down and crossing her huge arms 
across her gigantic, sweating chest. "I'm 6-feet-7 and about 290 pounds, all muscle. 
Got a problem with that?"

	Pete smiled weakly. He was mesmerized by big woman in general and very much in 
particular by this Amazonian figure that towered above him. Fully aware that his love 
life sucked and that he'd been shot down by every big woman he'd ever asked out, her 
magnificent and dominating presence compelled him to pose a question he already knew 
the answer to.

	"Would you like to go out tonight?" he squeaked, his voice involuntarily rising 
to roughly the pitch of a scared schoolgirl.

	The huge blonde put her pretty head back and roared a deep laugh that seemed to 
fill the woods around them at the same time it put this sudden, twisted image into 
Pete's head of a beautiful Paula Bunyan character. The little man blushed, shook his 
head and tried to skulk away, but one of the woman's hands clamped on his shoulder.

	"Not so fast there, little man," she growled. "I never gave you an answer."

	"Then...then you'll, you know, uh, go out with, uh....me?" Pete asked hopefully 
in stammering tone.

	"Hardly," she shot back, still holding his shoulder with her left hand as she 
grabbed the other with her right. "But we could go out here, if you know what I 
mean."

	"How...so?" Pete asked nervously.

	"Well, what's the thing you want most right now?" she asked, answering for him 
when she saw him blush. "To be between these, right?!!"

	She bent his head forward a bit to look at those legs. They seemed a mile long 
to him. Her massive, chiseled calves exploded out of the tight, white socks, thick 
balls of rocky muscle in the back, ridged lines of separation along the shins.  Her 
gigantic thighs absolutely filled the leg holes of her tight, red shorts, the thick 
meat of them bursting out of the fabric, the etched flesh of her quads rippling with 
dormant power. He could even see the sweeping, muscled expanse of the planky backs of 
those mammoth thighs as they extended from her knees to the magnificent swell of 
tremendous asscheeeks that were barely contained by her satiny shorts.

	"Uh, yeah, I guess you're right," Pete gulped.

	"You know I'm right!!!" she bellowed in his face before lifting him off his 
feet again, this time way up until his crotch was at face level. "Admit that's what 
you want!!"

	Pete knew she was right on the money by the way his cock stiffened, both from 
the feeling of being so completely controlled by this giant woman and from the hot 
breath steaming out of her mouth as she yelled into his crotch. He found himself 
straining to push forward, to feel himself rub against that beautiful, smooth face.

	Suddenly he was even higher as the woman lifted him up, turning him to the side 
and pressing him like a 20-pound barbell above her head.  He looked down and gasped 
when he saw thick balls of steel well up under the tanned skin of her biceps as she 
began to do military presses with his body.

	With a flick of her wrists, she tossed Pete over a trailside bush into a small 
clearing. Though the bushes were a good four-feet high, she merely stepped over them, 
easily clearing the leaves with those long, thick legs. A look of determination 
filled her blue eyes as she towered above him.  Pete felt a disturbing spider-and-fly 
feeling set in.

	"C'mon, little fella, you want to be between these legs, come and get 'em!" she 
taunted, standing back on spread feet, tensing those awesome limbs until every muscle 
jumped out against the smooth skin.

	Pete was scared shitless. But he was also horny as a sailor at sea. A typical 
man's prevailing emotion won out - he put his head down and ran at her, aiming to get 
between those legs and hope for the best. His plan worked. He got between those legs, 
all right - but he got the worst.

 	The woman didn't move, just waited for him to come to her, and with a swat to 
the back of his head, easily guided it to those parted, waiting legs.  Instantly, the 
titanic thighs slammed shut on the sides of Pete's head and crushing pain set in. 
Even as he was bent over, his feet hardly touched the ground, so long where the legs 
that effortlessly captured him. His hands shot to the sides of them, trying vainly to 
pull them apart, his trembling fingers feeling the rocky ridges of massive muscle 
wherever they tried to gain hold.

	A searing pain shot through Pete's scissored skull as the Amazon remained 
standing and slowly crossed her ankles, bringing to bear hundreds of pounds of 
pressure along the inner cords of those ropy thigh muscles until he felt as if his 
skull would be mashed to a thin ribbon of bone and brain. His eyes were shut tight 
against the pain, and when he forced them open, he saw nothing. He feared she'd 
squeezed him blind in those monumental legs until he realized that her thighs were 
just so massive, they had completely swallowed up his head, the backs of them folding 
around his face until his vision - and breathing - was obliterated.

	Gasping for air, he tried to force his head out the backs of those gripping 
thighs to catch at least a breath, but even as he did manage to push forward, he 
seemingly had another foot of clutching thigh meat to clear. He suddenly had the 
sensation of being far below the surface of water, able to see it but unable to reach 
it before the liquid would fill his aching lungs.

	But it wasn't anything as benign as water that Pete feared would do him in; it 
was something as lovely as a beautiful woman's legs.  Just as he started to go under, 
the stars swimming before his blind eyes, he was free.

	But only momentarily. She'd let go the thigh scissors to slide his head  down 
and capture him in those long, muscle-popping calves, the crushing inner flesh 
snapping shut on the sides of his neck like a meaty vice. The pain was incredible, 
but at least he could breathe. Barely.

	"So, is this where you want to be, between my legs, little man?!" the big girl 
barked down at him.

	"Not....not quite...what I had...in mind....lady..." Pete gasped as he felt the 
calves grow thicker and tighter.

	"Not 'lady', my tiny friend," she growled, punching the sides of his neck with 
a quick burst of calf power. "My name is Jan. Mistress Jan. Say it!"

	Pete balked and the calves crunched anew. He said it. Three times, until the 
growling, leggy dominatrix was satisfied with the volume at which it was delivered. 
She stood for a moment more, until she felt Pete's sweat run down the thick bubbles 
of her calf muscles and soak into her drooping white socks.

	"Well here's something that's more your style, I believe," Jan said, letting go 
the calf lock to lay flat on her brawny back, spreading wide those gigantic legs. 
"C'mon in!!"

	Pete had been trying to get to his feet, but he was too dazed to move quickly. 
Jan simply reached out with those loping legs and looped them around his tiny waist 
to reel him in like a five-pound fish on a 20-pound test line. She sucked him in deep 
to her, until his crotch met hers. Once Pete came around enough to know where he was, 
he started grinding his stiffening dick into the warm moistness at the juncture of 
those damaging thighs.

	"Oh, Jan..., I mean, Mistress Jan," Pete moaned, eyes closed, head back as he 
thrust at her, their shorts-clad crotches sliding across one another. "Please, let me 
fuck you, please..."

	"You will, short stack," Jan hissed sarcastically. "But my way!!"

	She then delivered a brutal bodyscissors by merely snap-locking those long 
limbs up around him, lacing her socked calves together and crunching her tireless 
thighs around his slender waist. Pete's entire body went stiff under the sudden, 
piercing pain, except for his throbbing wand, which got stiff early on and showed no 
signs of going down for the count. That surprised Pete, being in possession of a 
full, raging hardon despite the tremendous pain. But not Jan; she'd seen it all 
before, and was loving it.

	"Feel them, feel my thighs," Jan growled, bending Pete's head to her thickly-
muscled chest, wrapping her sinewy forearms around him and grinding his moaning face 
into her rock-hard tit flesh. "Put your hands back there and feel the muscles!!"

	Pete obeyed and was again astounded by the sheer size of those gargantuan upper 
legs.  He knew of lady bodybuilders with 30-inch thighs; Jan's had to be all of 36, 
if not more, all that thigh piled atop what had to have been 23-inch calves. His 
trembling hands caressed the big legs that felt like they'd squeeze his insides out 
his ass with much more pressure. As he massaged the iron pipes that gripped him, Jan 
snapped her soggy crotch up into him, rubbing herself against the prodding poker that 
stuck up in his shorts until she felt herself begin to come.

	Jan let go of his head and reached around under her legs to poke her big hand 
inside his shorts. Finding what she was looking for, she jacked his cock roughly as 
she rode out her orgasm, her thighs scissoring him tighter still as she did.

	"Suppose if I pull it harder, it'll get bigger?" she teased Pete, who 
ordinarily would take exception to a comment about his less-than-large dick, but who 
also ordinarily, wouldn't find himself locked in the legs of a honest-to-God Amazon.

	"Please, Mistress Jan, please, let me...let me please you..." Pete groaned as 
her long, strong fingers swallowed up his prick. "I'll do anything..."

	"Oh, that's for sure, they all do, believe me," Jan hissed.  "Now, on your 
knees! I want to finish you off then finish my run."

	She unlocked her crossed ankles and her legs exploded open like a broken 
spring. She jumped to her feet as Pete groggily got to his knees, rubbing his aching 
sides hoping not to find any broken ribs. She stood before him, legs slightly apart.

	"Take off your shorts and put your face between these thighs," Jan said matter-
of-factly, standing with her hands on her wide, shapely hips.

	Pete silently obeyed. From his knees, his face was just above hers as he slid 
it wetly into those sweat-slick thighs. He knelt there, face first, everything but 
his ears swallowed up in those tremendous legs. He put his hands up and held onto her 
thighs for balance, and felt familiar fleshy steel in his shaky fingers.

	"Now," Jan continued. "Scoot yourself up close to my legs and stick that 
pitiful excuse for a cock in them! Do it or die!"

	Pete obeyed quickly. He got himself close to her crossed legs even though it 
put tremendous pressure on his neck as it bent to accommodate the angle at which his 
face was being sucked in by Jan's thighs. He pushed forward and felt something so 
wet, so tight, so incredibly hot, he thought he'd come on first thrust. Jan had 
loosened her legs just a bit until Pete had skewered her shins and monstrous calves, 
then closed up tight, scissoring his meat deep within the muscled, sweaty confines of 
her bursting lower legs.

	He forgot all about the pain in his head and ribs as he helplessly plunged in 
and out of those gripping calves. He reached with his hands and began to caress the 
mighty limbs that milked his dick.  He pushed his squashed pecker all the way in, but 
so huge were her thick calves, he couldn't make it reach the other side of their 
scissoring magnificence.

	He quickly felt himself going over the edge, so he stopped for a moment to 
enjoy it. Jan gave him no quarter, however, mashing her thighs tight on his squashed 
face and beginning an incredibly erotic flexing of her calves on his trapped stem.  
He felt the rock-hard balls of mighty calf meat rotate on his cock, milking it with 
muscle, and he could hold back no longer. With a from-the-guts groan, Pete shot a 
massive load into the containment chamber of her calves that seemed to corkscrew out 
from deep within his sexual soul. The climax went on for what felt like a full 
minute, Jan never stopping the flexing fuck until she was sure she'd scissored out 
every single drop, and Pete hung face-first from her thighs like a rag doll.

	Opening her legs, both Pete's heads fell out. Jan's mighty thighs were marked 
red where one was; her calves ran thick with his cream where the other had dwelled. 
She looked down and smiled. Pete was out like a light on the grass, a half-cocked 
grin on his sleepy face.

	She stepped over him and wiped her comey calves off on his shirt. Taking off 
her shoes, she stripped out of her socks and jammed them both into Pete's mouth. 
Tying up her shoes again she bent over to kiss him on one thigh-bruised ear.

	"A little gift for you, little man," she said before getting up to run off. 
"Just in case you wake up and think the whole thing was a dream!"