The Steam Room
by Matthew Hubbard
A tall and muscular ebony alien uses him for her pleasure
Update: 27/09/1997 to misc2

	He hung his thick cotton towel on one of the hooks outside the
shower and peered through the glass into the steam room.  There was
nothing visible through the cloud and he could hear the muffled sound of
the steam machine.  The roar of the machine became louder as he pushed the
big glass door open, and he felt the hot cloud hit his skin.  "Anyone
here?" he shouted.  There was no reply.  He headed blindly but boldly
toward his favorite spot, the far corner opposite the door.  He was less
than a stride away when he saw her; he was startled at first because he
thought he was alone, but the initial shock turned to amazement and awe. 
She was very big and very black.  Her eyes were closed. She was taller
than he was when she was sitting down.  She sat on the second of the four
tiers, and her feet rested flat on the floor.  Her black skin shone in the
diffuse light, and the sweat beads glistened like stars.  Leaning her
elbows on the third tier, her full breasts seemed to defy gravity as they
heaved up and down with her deep, slow breaths; he admired the width
of her shoulders, the angle at which her huge back muscles met her long
neck, the size of her biceps. The size of everything about her in fact was
absolutely astounding.  She slid her left leg forward and it seemed to him
to be as big around and as solid as a tree trunk.  He realized that
instead of witnessing the defiance of the laws of gravity, he was looking
at a natural wonder of the magnitude of any of the Seven Wonders of the
ancient world.  He hadn't even noticed his own erection until she slowly
opened her eyes and stared down at him with an impassiveness that made him
feel like a bug that this titan might decide to swat out of existence on a
whim.
	"I called out." he said, as though he needed to defend his
presence to her.
	"Didn't hear you." she said, unconcerned.
	"I didn't think the steam room was co-ed."
	"It isn't.  The women's room doesn't have steam, only a sauna. You
got a problem?"
	"No." he stared without moving for several uncomfortable seconds.
	"You gonna sit down?" she asked.
	"I usually sit in this corner."
	"There's room up there." she said, rolling her huge head back
luxuriously, indicating the tiers above her.  He climbed up and sat on the
fourth tier behind her.  He usually sat on the third tier, because the
highest level would get too hot for him too quickly, but something in her
voice told him that her factual statement was in reality a command he dare
not refuse.
	He sat gingerly on the fourth tier, the linoleum wet enough with
condensation and her sweat that it did not burn him.  Each breath,
however, was another matter; his lips were scorched each time he inhaled
the hot, wet air, and he knew he dare not breathe too deeply or suffer the
same feelings down his throat and in his lungs.  She leaned her head back,
rubbing her wild, curly hair against his thighs, entangling his stiff,
slender penis in the thick, black curls.
	"Too hot to breathe."  he panted.
	"Rub my neck." she said.
	He carefully extricated his dick from her hair, leaned down and
dutifully massaged the solid mass of her trapezius muscles; the skin was
smooth to the touch, but underneath that skin were muscles as hard as wood
when flexed.  Just to lean down a couple of feet gave his lungs the rest
they needed, for now he breathed her scent, the steam rising from her
enormous body.  It was hot and strong, but somehow cooler than the harsh
steam.  It smelled of exertion so strong it was almost more feral than
human, but also with a faint, flowery perfume that was more like a memory
than a sensation.  He carefully gathered up a huge mass of her hair and
placed over her right shoulder, so that he could massage the left side of
her neck more freely.  When he saw the slow rivers of sweat rolling down,
he could not resist and he caught one of the streams on his tongue and
followed its path up her neck to behind her ear.  He tasted the salt and
the strength and the hint of sweetness, and began to suck contentedly on
her enormous earlobe. 
	Her sigh rumbled in the damp heat and she slid down a few feet,
slightly out of his reach.  Before he could react, her huge hands closed
around his thighs, and she lifted him effortlessly above her head.  He
reached for the ceiling to make sure he wouldn't bump his head, and she
slid her body back up to wrap her large lips around the muscular mounds of
his ass.  Her long, strong tongue licked and slurped at his butt cheeks,
her teeth playfully but powerfully biting down on them, as she laughed low
and loud.  He whimpered a little and she heard him.  She cooed softly to
comfort him, slowly lowering him and licking his back.  He tried to twist
his body to face her, but with his thighs trapped in hands as strong as
velvet vice grips, his movement was limited and she could easily keep her
massive mouth in the middle of his wriggling back.  As her lips reached
his upper back, she began to rub her titanic tits against his lower back,
and he grabbed the huge firm orbs behind him, feeling their supple
firmness and ponderous weight.  His hands tried to judge their size, but
comparisons to footballs or basketballs soon proved too puny; he could
tell that her hard nipple was slightly thicker than his thumb, and the
dark, dimpled and sensitive skin of her aureole was wider than his fist. 
She rested his feet on her thighs, and slowly slid her hands up and down
the length of his tiny body.  Their mouths were roughly at the same level
but when turned to kiss her, she stretched her body up, and pressing down
slightly on his hips, put his head between her breasts, flexed her biceps
and pushed her tits together around his helpless head.  She restrained him
firmly from trying to face her, so her could only kiss the sides of her
cleavage.  In frustration and excitement, her grabbed her enormous hard
nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand and pinched as hard
as he could, digging his fingernails into her jet black flesh.  Her laugh
shook her huge body, and its loudness startled him into letting go. She
let go of him and he finally turned to face her.
	"Don't stop.  That's how I like to party." she said.
	As he grabbed her nipples again, she slid one hand between his
legs and began to probe his asshole.  He squeezed his butt cheeks together
as hard as he could, but she separated them as easily as she would two
fresh juicy orange slices.  He grimaced in fear and pain, stifling a
scream.  He had never been penetrated anally before; each of her fingers
were longer and thicker than his eight-inch dick, and she was using two
fingers.  He felt hot shame and cold fear, and pleaded beneath his breath
for her to stop.  He looked up into her eyes, only to find she was staring
at him.  He was transfixed by her expressionless stare.  He stopped
squirming, and began to feel the rhythm of her probe. 
	"First time?" she asked, still staring.  He nodded feebly.  Her
lips rolled into a smirk.  "Like it?"
	He scrambled up her body to kiss her on the lips for the first
time, and she did not stop him.  At first, she merely allowed his kisses,
then began to pucker sweetly and smile at him.  Her free hand slid up his
back, grabbed his head and tilted it back.  Their eyes met for a moment as
her head turned opposite his.  She pressed her lips to his forcefully and
slipped her enormous tongue into his mouth, nearly causing him to gag. 
Her fingers up his ass, her tongue down his throat, he was experiencing
what it was like to be fucked, and he loved it.  He spread his arms wide
to squeeze her massive shoulders, to press his little, narrow chest
against her big breasts, and squeaked and shrieked and moaned louder than
he ever had before, louder than any woman he had ever fucked. 
  	She pulled her tongue out of his mouth when the steam engine stopped. 
"Not hot enough." she said, and blew cold on the temperature sensor,
causing the engine to crank up again.  She laughed at his surprise, and
blew in his face. The breeze was so cold he wiped frozen sweat from his
eyebrows.
	"Who are you?" he asked.
	"Ever hear of Superman?" she asked.  He nodded.  She smiled, and an
expanse of perfect white teeth shone from out of her beautiful black face. 
"I'm his big sister."
	He smiled back at her.  "Then you're from Krypton?" he joked.
	"No. We call our planet Cuntron.  Here's what it's like there."
	She leaned forward from her sitting position; the room was too
small for her to stand up, so she knelt on the floor and began to slide his
body down the length of her enormous torso; his lips visited her chin and
neck, the swell of her breast, her hard nipple, the underside of that
breast and then the ripped muscles of her powerful stomach.  He now
shifted his attention below, where his feet dangled just inches off the
ground and his dick throbbed with anticipation.  She waited a few
agonizing beats before plunging his puny penis into her powerful pussy.
	It was hard to believe that it would be hotter inside her than it
was already in the billowing steam, but the increased pressure made him
intensely aware of the sensations now flooding his nervous system from his
hard but helpless cock; he was still suspended in air as she moved him
rhythmically in and out.  She spread her legs wider with each thrust
inside her, lowering him slowly to the ground.  She removed her fingers
from his ass; if it he had any thought of fleeing, only her cunt muscles
held him now, but of course they were equal to the task.
	"Got the beat?" she asked, and he nodded agreement as kept up the
same pace she had set at the beginning of the fuckfest.
	She smiled.  "Then it's SHOWTIME!"
	He wondered what she could mean.  They were buck naked in a steam
room, fucking like insane weasels.  What more could ...
	She started posing.
	She straightened her back, put her arms at her sides, squeezed her
hands into enormous fists, and tensed the muscles in her arms.  He stared
up at her, frozen and dumbfounded.  "Keep the beat, runt!  That's your
only job!  DO IT OR I'LL FIND SOMEONE ELSE!" she bellowed, holding the
pose.
	Even James Brown and Jerry Lewis would have to admire her
directness.
	He began to fuck to the beat again and took advantage of the best
seat - also the only seat - in the house.  He grabbed her rock-hard
forearms in his firmest grip, and looked at them in turn. He knew size was
important, but that was no contest; her forearms were the size of Arnold's
calves, and her biceps put any steroid-pumped freak's thighs to shame. 
What else did they judge on, he thought?  Symmetry.  He couldn't see any
differences as he turned his head from left to right, (keeping the beat
inside her increasingly hot and wet pussy, of course since THAT WAS HIS
JOB) so he closed his eyes and ran his fingers up her fantastic forearms
to her elbows and on up to her Bronto Biceps.  Small differences could be
felt, but the overall size at every millimeter on left and right was so
close that the difference was not worth anyone's mention.  When reached as
far as he could up her arms as he could, she changed the pose.  Her arms
bent and he placed her fists on the sides of her lower ribcage.
	He gazed up at her face.  The smile she had before was now a
grimace. This pose must have more effect on her back, but he was too small
to reach all the way around her.  "Check the wings, midget!"  she hissed. 
He ran his hands up the thick rock-hard buttresses that extended from her
lower ribcage to her bent arms. 
	"Right side bigger than left."  he shouted.
	"Okay.  I have a week." she said.  He realized then that he hadn't
even thought about being the bearer of bad news; she had a dozen ways to
crush him if she grew angry (the first and simplest would be flexing her
thighs and squeezing his helpless dick like a spent tube of toothpaste),
but she wanted directness in others as much as she exhibited it herself. 
	"What do you mean, you have a week?" he asked.
	"Competition coming up; the big one."
	"Who could possibly compete with you?"
	She looked down at him and smirked.  "It's a big universe, little
man.  Bigger than you can imagine."
	She switched poses.  Her arms were behind her back and she
stretched and arched her back.  "Check the gut."  she said.
	There it was in front of his face; no sculptor had ever chiselled
anything so impressive; it would be beyond belief.  He ran his fingers up
and down it, not even attempting to dent it with his puny strength.  He
allowed himself a few extra beats, to connect the sensations his cock felt
in her cunt to the feelings of his fingers running up and down her awesome
abdomen. 
	"Perfect."  he said.
	"Put your hands on my ass."  she commanded.
	He obeyed.  She began to tense the left and right sides separately
to the beat, bouncing him up and down like a marionette on a string.  "I
don't know what the judges will make of it, but I'm in love!"  he said.
	She laughed loudly, unable to maintain her rigid pose.  He felt
validated, since he had actually gotten a response from her he wanted; he
might be small but if he could make her laugh, he had a tiny and fleeting
upper hand.
	"Take a break.  Squeeze my tits."
	He was glad to obey this command.  Her huge hooters were always
over- head, raining sweat down on him, blocking the light; they were never
far from his little thoughts and now they were in his little hands.  He
kneaded their fantastic firmness and drifted off into the rhythm of sex. 
He felt her lift him gently by his asshole (was it five minutes ago now
that he would have considered this gross violation?) and began a new
rhythm of her own.  She drove him slightly deeper with each stroke,
waiting slightly longer as each new depth was explored.  He thought it
impossible to go any deeper when she paused, lifted her head to the
ceiling, sucked in a breath that pulled the clouds of steam out of the
air, closed her mouth and slowly looked down. 
	She exhaled with a hurricane's power, and bucked her hips so
forcefully that he was thrown clear of her cunt, only stopped from being
smashed against the far wall the hand that held his ass, the finger that
now penetrated him deeply.  His arms instinctively spread out to brace
himself for impact, but that was entirely absorbed against her hand.  The
shock frightened and angered him, but to her it was just a game.
	"Fire One." she smirked.
	"Don't do that!" he glared.
	"Is that the right attitude?" she demanded, her amusement fading.
	She began the rhythm again; he knew there was no point in
pleading, and he could only think of escape.  Even his tiny mind
understood his helplessness, his prick inextricably shoved in her
pulsing pussy, his asshole skewered on her massive middle digit.  He
braced as well as he could against the mighty mahogany arm that held him
and closed his eyes.  He heard her drawing in another Brobdignagian
breath, her pussy pulling him even closer. 
	She exhaled and contracted her hip muscles.
	He felt her finger drive deeper into him as he was expelled from
her pussy.
	"Fire Two." she laughed.
	He could not contain his anger. He punched her rock hard abs; his
hand stung and she kept laughing.  He lashed out again, slapping hard with
his open hands the undersides of her titanic black tits.  She gasped at
the sting, at the impudence and glared down at him.  Once more his cock
was shoved into her cunt.
	He could hardly think through the fear, the heat, the anger, the
excitement.  Hang on for dear life was his only thought.  His fingers
clamped onto her nipples, his heels dug into thighs.  Every muscle tensed
as she sent him deeper and deeper inside.  He imagined her walls would
widen so incredibly that his hips would be sucked in as well.  In a final
act of defiance, he shot his semen inside her cunt kiln as the waiting for
the ultimate act became more than he could bear. Each spurt of his orgasm
was echoed and magnified by the contraction of his ass muscles, now
literally wrapped around her finger.
	"Fire Three." she moaned.
	Fire Three, he thought?  But nothing happened; he was still inside
her, still coming, still relatively safe.  Then he felt it.  Fire Three
was her orgasm, rumbling low like an earthquake, sending uncontrollable
spasms and tremors through her.  He shook like a leaf in the wind, swept
away in her passion.  It was all he could do to maintain consciousness as
she bumped and ground, her pussy sucking every drop out of him, her tits
slapping his face from above; he put his little hands up to try to protect
himself, but they were useless against the power of her orgasmic
onslaught. 
	When it was over, he found himself unable to move, such was his
exhaustion.  He looked at his arm, hanging at an incomprehensible angle
from his body.  He could not imagine what message his mind could send to
move it from its almost lifeless position.  Moving his eyes and flopping
his head were the limit of his motor control.
	She pulled his puny limp prick from her colossal, sopping wet cunt
and cradled him in her huge arms, her still deep and satisfied breaths
rocking him back and forth. He thought how nice it would be to go to sleep
and not wake up.  His mind seemed to be drifting away from his useless and
uncooperative body, going to some better place.  She looked down on him,
drew in a little gulp of air and blew frigid air on his chest.  The sudden
shock of cold made him shiver, his arms instinctively grasping his
shoulders as his teeth chattered.  In an instant, he was wide awake and in
full control of all voluntary body movement.
	She smiled down on him, and cuddled him to her bosom, pushing her
nipple deep into his hungry mouth.  "Well, that was fun."  she smiled. 
"Ready for round two?" 
	He twisted his body towards her and bit the enormous nipple as
hard as he could.  She shrieked with delight and the room rocked.
	"What do you think?"