The Blue Mustang

By: mr.mouse@mouse.com 




I. 

Another bad day in a long line of bad days. I'm driving, late, and I'm 
talking on the cellular. I drop it mid-sentence, reach down to pick it 
up. There's a crash and I'm jolted sideways, slamming against the seat 
belt. A blue mustang has come out of nowhere and collided with the side 
of my car. Swearing, I gesture to the driver, a woman, to pull over. 

I turn into the parking lot of a defunct convenience store, the mustang 
right behind. As I get out, I can already see the damage: rear 
quarterpanel crushed, paint damage and a missing hubcap. I hope she's 
insured. I walk over to her car. The fender is pushed in; otherwise, the 
mustang seems undamaged. The woman sits at the wheel staring ahead, 
knuckles white on the wheel. I  tap on the window and she rolls it down, 
glaring at me. 

"You better not have hurt my car, asshole." I am momentarily speechless, 
then: "I think this is your accident, lady. You hit me." She stares at 
me with a dead look, then smiles. "I guess you're right. I'm so sorry. I 
love my car, that's all. I'm protective of it." "Looks pretty minor. I 
think I got the worst of it." She opens the door and gets out. I am 
flabbergasted  as she straightens up to her full height, towering over 
my six-two. Her shoulders are very wide and pack the fabric of her 
sweatshirt. She looks down on me, smiling again. "Six feet seven and a 
half. Saves you from asking." 

She crouches down to inspect the fender, then turns to me. "I don't have 
any identification on me. It's in my purse on my kitchen counter." It's 
beginning to sound like bullshit, but the woman is sexy. Sexy and 
somewhat scary. "Well, let's go get it. You lead, I'll follow." Her face 
breaks into a smile. Her teeth are large and very white. "Okay. You 
follow. I'll drive slow." Muttering, I climb into my car. I look and see 
the Mustang already peeling out ahead. 

Shit, I think. She's trying to ditch me. However, I pretty much drive 
all day long every day, so ditching me is easier said than done. I glue 
myself to her  bumper and squeal through the neighborhoods. The Mustang 
takes a hard right into the driveway of a small, rather shabby house and 
stops. I pull in behind as the giant woman gets out. She reaches into 
the car and pulls out a gym bag. "I want to hang up my towel as long as 
I'm here. Hope you don't mind." She says this with the same smile and 
weirdly glaring eyes. I follow her through the doorway into a small, 
sparsely furnished room. I heard the dry click of the deadbolt behind 
me. She turns, slipping the key from the lock. "Rough neighborhood. I 
always lock my door." "Good policy. Speaking of policies..." She raises 
her hand. "Let me use the bathroom first, okay? I'll be right back." 

With this she disappears into the hallway. I wander over to the 
bookshelf. Checking out people's books has always been a fetish of mine. 
Hers was revealing...two or three exercise physiology texts, Sun Tzu's 
Art of War, many martial arts books. No fiction , no poetry. Everything 
functional, just like the apartment. Suddenly, she yells. "Okay, 
fuckface!" 

Startled, I whirl around. She is standing before me in a catsuit of 
black spandex. I have never seen a more muscular body. She looks as 
though she is made out of tightly coiled wire, enormous muscles bulging 
in her chest and arms. Through the skin-tight fabric of her suit I can 
see the chiseled plates of her stomach standing out like bricks in a 
chimney. As she moves her enormous arms her biceps push out thick veins 
the diameter of my thumb. Her thighs are striated and look to be as big 
around as my waist. I can see her huge calf muscles from the front, 
jutting out like rocks. And the next thing I know, she's on top of me. 

Her extraordinary strength slams into me like a train, and I feel myself 
lifted into the air like a couch cushion. Then I'm down on the ground 
with my arms pinned behind me, utterly helpless. I feel her hot breath 
on my neck. "You worthless sack of shit. You ruined my car. You fucked 
up the only thing I care about. I own you, motherfucker!" 

She lifts me up and flips me onto my back. She slams her gigantic legs 
on my shoulders.  Pinned, I stare up at her. Her chest heaves. I notice 
the veins standing out on her stomach. The vertical cut in her abs looks 
deep enough to hide a pencil. Her crotch, pressing against my neck, is 
very hot. "You know, I've beaten a man to death. It wasn't very fun. He 
didn't fight. The first punch broke his ribs and he just collapsed. He 
barely even struggled." With this, she tightens her legs so that her 
hard thighs were pressed against my head. They feel like cement. Hot 
cement. "I weigh two hundred and fifty pounds. What's not muscle is 
bone. If I desire, you are dead." She smiles, looking down at me. "Not 
much sport in that, is there?" I reply in a strained voice. "You took me 
from behind." "Yes, I suppose I did. Not very fair of me, is it?" And 
she adroitly flips her legs over and I can breathe again. 

I gasp for air and stagger to my feet. My shirt is untucked and my hair 
is all over the place. God, she's a big woman. I look straight into her 
giant chest. The muscles seem to have a life of their own, moving like 
tectonic plates. Her neck looks like a stone pillar. "Maybe I should 
play fair. It doesn't matter anyway, because I'll win." She's right. Her 
huge bicep is the size of a football and her shoulders look like bowling 
balls. And she's quick, because now her hand is around my wrist and I'm 
smelling her primal scent as I look into her savage face. She easily 
lifts me into the air and grabs me in a bear-hug. Her body is drenched 
with perspiration and her smell is overwhelming. 

Suddenly, I have a huge erection. It presses against the hot, hard 
muscles of her stomach. She squeezes me and I feel my back pop. "So, the 
little man wants to fuck me, eh? I'll pinch your dick off and jam it 
down your throat, asshole!" She crushes me even tighter, and I feel the 
air rush from my lungs. I struggle, but her arms feel like slabs of 
hardwood. She picks me up higher off the ground and I look into her 
cruel face. Her smile seems genuine now. "Nighty night." I feel unable 
to breathe, and with a last struggle,, I lose consciousness.