My Big Sister by Rabheed Sameel Younger, but bigger and stronger than her brother ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ + WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING + ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS OFFENSIVE, PERVERTED MATERIAL, FOR ADULTS OVER 25 ONLY IF YOU ARE A MINOR, OR IF MATERIAL THAT CONTAINS THE FOLLOWING THEMES OFFENDS YOU: INCEST, SEXUAL EXPLICITNESS, FEMALE MUSCULARITY, FEMALE DOMINANCE DO NOT CONTINUE ANY FURTHER. DELETE THIS FILE AND FORGET ABOUT IT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My Big Sister I My big sister wasn't older than me. She was younger than me by a year, but she made me call her "big sister" because she was stronger than me, even though I was a boy and was supposed to stronger. She called me "girl scout". She pretty much had her way with me. Not that I didn't try to fight back. She was just too strong. She loved to work out. We had a weight set at home and from the time she was in the fifth grade she was lifting weights all day at home. I never thought much of it, except it seemed like a strange thing for a girl to do. One day when I had just started high school and she was in the 8th grade I went to basement and caught her in the middle of a workout. She was benching a huge amount of weight, more than I'd ever seen my dad do, and it didn't look like she was struggling too hard. When she was done and noticed me there she looked at me with a scowl. "Get outta here, girl scout" she said. We fought and wrestled a lot. Until I was about 11 we were farely even, but after that, she started going into puberty and started getting incredibly strong. I tried to fight back as best I could, but all that got me was a worse punishment. A couple of times she would sit on my face and fart or make me kiss her asshole. Other times I had to lick it with deep strokes. If I refused I had to suffocate under her butt. The last fight I won was before she started to work out. In the 7th grade she began taking judo lessons, and it wasn't even a contest any more. Her deadliest move was a thigh headlock with my face crushed into her groin. She would suffocate me by flexing and tightening her legs then relax me to allow me to get a couple of precious breaths. She coulda killed me if she wanted, but then she would lose her favorite plaything. My life hung on the balance of her whim. I tried to start working out, but she had a big head start over me. At home between my sets on the bench press, she used to come over to inspect my progress. To show her complete superiority, shed snatch the bar with the 105 pounds I was struggling to bench and then she did a clean set of double armed curls in perfect form without breaking a sweat. "Hey, girl scout" she'd taunt, with her bare foot on my stomach while I lay on the bench, "you'll never press more than I can curl, baby" Once I tried to get protection by getting this guy Harry on the wrestling team to come over. He wasn't my friend, but if he wanted to keep copying my homework, I told him, he'd have to give me some protection. He laughed when I told him it was my sister. "Your sister's beating you up, this I gotta see," Harry said, incredulous. Harry tried hard but he wasn't much help. His wrestling skills were enough to make him a formidable and respected wrestler at school and in the county ranks, but it was useless against my big sister and her judo. She manhandled Harry like a sack of potatoes. He looked helpless as my sister put him into hold after hold and then toyingly let him go to give him another chance. Then she put him in her dreaded thigh headlock, and Harry was a goner. But he refused to give up and my sister had no choice but to take him out between her thick rock-hard quads. Harry's face became red as a cherry and my sisters leg veins started to bulge as she increased the pressure. After a long minute, Harry's head bobbed weakly as he passed out. "It's hard to get reliable help, isn't it? My sister said. Harry had to "sleep over" until I could finally revive him in the morning so he could go home. Harry missed school for a couple of days. When I saw him again he seemed to avoid me and never asked for my homework anymore. My sister wasn't afraid of any guy. She didn't even think it was a fair fight for a guy to face her if she was allowed to use legs for offense. Some of Harry's friends found out about the incident and tried to corner her as she was walking back home from school. She warned them that they'd get hurt since a mere 5 high school boys was not going to be enough to take her down. The five boys didn't back down but they probably wished they did. My sister came back home about 10 minutes later than her usual time and put a band-aid on her knuckle. The five boys were absent from school for several days apiece. A couple of them came back with black eyes, one had a swollen nose and one had to go to the dentist to get a new pair of front teeth. My sister became pretty well known in school for her pugilistic skills and wasn't bothered again, at least not by those who knew better. Unfortunately for me, I was still finding myself in her headlocks, sometimes pressed between her lats and her big arms and other times between her mountainous thighs. If I tried to fight back and got in a lucky shot, it only made her angrier and I often found myself under her muscular glutes, gasping for air. No matter how hard I worked out, I was never more than 40% as strong as my sister, who continued to make gains on top of her already massive body. She was right, I could never bench more than she could curl with two arms, and she had no problem beating me at armwrestling even when I was using both arms. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My Big Sister II To find people more in her strength league she joined the local gym where there were big strong women with massive muscles, unlike the weak high school boys who worked out in the school gym. My sister soon became a star pupil of Chris, the strongest person in the whole gym. Chris, which was short for Christine, was once in the state rankings for powerlifters, having competed in a variety of the middle to upper weight classes during her 15 year career. Chris had done some huge lifts, both in and outside of competition. She loved most to compete against men. Once when Chris was at a new gym, a big burly 230 lb. man challenged her to a bench press contest. He stated that while women were getting stronger, there was no way any woman could beat a strong man who regularly worked out, like himself. As proof, he was going to put up $100. Benching wasn't Chris's forte but she had beaten men bigger than this guy so she took the challenge. He started off small with 250 lbs which he easily hoisted for 3 reps. Chris calmly put on fifty extra pounds and tore through 3 reps herself. Taken aback, but not defeated, the man put on 30 extra pounds for a total of 330 and forced two reps. Chris laughed as he struggled, knowing that she could handle the weight a lot easier than the man. She put on 30 extra pounds for a total of 360 and did two clean reps. She could have done more but she wanted to save herself in case the man was going to continue the challenge. He started rubbing his shoulder and complaining that he pulled it, and said that he could not continue the competition due to his injury. Chris was kind of disapointed that the man was in fact just another big-mouthed 230 lb. weakling male. She was hoping to really challenge herself with a big lift to keep the contest going but the guy just ran out of gas. When he refused to concede the money, Chris challenged him to an armwrestle against the man's "uninjured" arm. When the man tried to weasel his way out again, Chris backed the man into the wall and lifted him by his neck with a single arm. She took his balls in her other hand and gave them a playful squeeze. "Bring the money by tomorow or next time I wont be so gentle and ladylike" Chris threatened. Chris flexed her bicep menacingly. The man understood her very well and nodded vigorously. When she let him go, he crumbled to the ground, coughing, his face a very unhealthy shade of purple. The next day the man brought over the $100 and then never showed up at the gym again. My sister was a standout at the gym, even though she was only 15 years old. She used the dumbells at the end of the rack, the ones most of the men in the gym couldn't use because they were too heavy. Chris taught her proper technique and coached her several times a week. After a few months my sister had a 170 lb body packed with rock-hard muscle. She made me come along to hold her towels and carry her water. Other times I changed the weights between sets and spotted her during her lifts, as long as it wasn't something too heavy for me to handle, in which case Chris did the honors. With her natural good looks, her blonde hair and her awesome muscles, my sister attracted a lot of attention. Her biceps measured only 15 and half inches, which was not as big as some of the other women at the gym, but they were harder than anyone else's with the exception of Chris and maybe, just possibly, a guy named Will, one of the male bodybuilders at the gym. Her shoulders were so solid it looked like she could military press a car. From the way she lifted me over her head during our fights, I knew it wasnt inconceivable. Everyone was saying that my sister was the second strongest person in the gym, second only to Chris herself. One day I came home to find Chris and my sister at home in their underwear wrestling in her room. The room looked absolutely full with the two huge bodies in it. They were already quite sweaty and looked like they'd been at it for a while. "Oh good" my sister said, "Chris, you can practice those moves I taught you today." "Come here baby," my sister said, beckoning me with her finger. I cautiously tried to back away, but I found myself against a wall. My sister moved forward to stand in front of me, her big sweaty muscular body came closer until I found my face crushed into her chest. As her chest expanded with each deep breath my face was pressed even harder against the wall. Her breasts, normally soft and smooth, were hot and sweaty and formed an airtight seal around my face. I thought I was going to be suffocated to death by her breasts. She had my arms pinned tightly to my sides with her hands. Then she backed off for a second, daring me to flee. I got to about a foot to the door before I was tackled by the two of them and found myself thrown on my sister's bed. I found myself in some kind of headlock with my face crushed point blank into somebody's panties. At first I wasn't sure who had got me because my eyes had been closed as a protective reflex during my brief airborne flight over to the bed. But I could soon judge from the smell that it wasnt my sister. I knew all too well what my sister's groin smelled like from having spent so much time crushed against it. This time I was the victim of Chris's deadly thigh headlock, and I guessed my luck probably wasn't going to be any better with Chris. As Chris flexed her mighty quads, beads of her groin sweat rolled into my eyes and into my mouth. I tried to plead for mercy from my female conquerer but my cries were muffled by her panties. She ground her pelvis into my face and I could feel a vein pop in my nose. She held me in her grip for long time as she maneuvered on the bed to find a comfortable position for herself. My sister chipped in by showing her where to place her feet so that my pain was the worst. Chris rolled me around on the bed in complete command. I had no choice of escape on my own free will and had to wait until my tormentors were satisfied. Seeing my struggle, my sister started getting the itch for some action herself. "That's not bad, but you've got to put more gusto into it, Chris" she said. " Let me show you" My sister and Chris switched places and I could feel the difference. My sister had a much stronger grip, and her leg muscles felt even harder than Chris's. She squeezed with such pressure I almost passed out. I knew I was bleeding from my nose but my face was being squeezed so hard into my sister's groin that the blood couldn't actually escape the nasal cavity and was being forced backwards into my throat. The scariest thing was that I knew my sister wasn't even trying that hard. This was just child's play for her. I had ceased being anything more than her plaything years ago. She showed Chris how to put me in different positions to place pain in highly specific points of my body. Then she bent me into positions that were meant to take out the enemy for good in a fight. She told Chris she was only going to put 10% of her strength into it or I would be dead within a minute. I felt excruciating pain and thought I heard some ligaments snapping. Chris shadowed all my sister's moves right next to us. "Well I think I get the gist of it," Chris said. "With a little more practice, I'll be ready to try it on a real challenger when the time comes." "Sure," my sister said. "Now, girl scout, go to your room." With that she unhooked her muscular legs and shoved my ass toward the door with her foot. "but don't forget to kiss my foot as you leave." I took her well-sculpted muscular foot in my limp hands and kissed it. I knew from past experience that a simple little peck wasn't going to satisfy her so I had prove my submissiveness by sucking on a couple of her toes like a baby and then by licking her sole. For good measure I sniffed deeply from the cracks between her toes and licked them as well. "Good night, your highness, my big sister," I said, as I had been trained. "You've trained him so well," Chris said, "that kind of tongue can be useful on a long night, you wouldn't mind if I borrowed him from you once in a while, would you?" "No problemo, just call me in advance and I'll send him over," my sister said. Having finished the appropriate submissive gestures to my sister, I was free to crawl out of the room. Since I was too weak to get up on my hands and knees I had to inch myself out of the room like a worm. My sister and Chris had a good laugh watching me struggle. They helped me out by shoving and kicking me with their feet. "You do you want one last kiss, don't you slave boy?" my sister said, offering her foot again. I obliged. "Worship my legs," she ordered. I weakly managed to get my lips up to her ankle, which I kissed. I tried to brace myself on the strength of my sister's calves so that I could get myself up and properly shower her leg muscles with kisses but I was too weak. When it was obvious I wasnt gonna be able to do anything else, my sister picked me up by my pants and the neck of my shirt and tossed out her door like a bag of garbage. Outside her room I tried vainly to wipe the salty taste of my sister's foot from my lips. But being too weak in my lungs to try to spit it out, I ended up swallowing it. It wasn't the worst type of body fluid of my sister's that I'd everhad to swallow. At least I was alive. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My Big Sister III We left the gym and headed toward Stan's bar & restaraunt as we always did on Friday evenings. There was my sister, me, Chris, and two of her other workout buddies (or I should say "budettes"), Melinda and Clara. Melinda was 27, about 5'9" tall, weighed about 185 lbs and was solid muscle, especially in her upper body. Her arms were so huge that when she wore a t-shirt, you could see the veins on her biceps stretching through the cotton. She was a little weaker than my sister in terms of maximum lifting capacity, but had more endurance and better definition. She worked as a karate instructor, and specialized in full-contact hand-to-hand combat. For a few months each year she traveled to military bases to give demonstrations to elite commandos. She was presently engaged to a young local businessman who was one of her beginner students, and a respectable bodybuilder who was almost, but not quite as strong as his beautiful fiance. Clara, who was 26, had a slimmer torso but had huge arms so that she looked incredibly strong. However, when it came down to it, she wsa much weaker than my sister or Chris. Clara best bench press was only 255 lbs, respectable for someone only 5'3" and 145 lbs but nothing spectacular for a modern-day iron-pumping woman. She was however, an up and coming boxer with a record of 4-2 against women (2 KOs) and 7-1 against men (6 KOs). She relied more on foot speed and strategically based punches rather than brute strength, even though she happened to be as strong as or stronger than every opponent she faced. She loved to box against men and considered it a matter of female pride to make sure she pummeled them. Clara was single. Chris was 5'7" and had at least 17" biceps. Her best bench press was 376.5 in competition and an unofficial 405. Now 38 years old and retired from competitive powerlifting, she only benched for reps, sticking to the lighter 300s. Her favorite lift was the single arm dumbell curl which she had once maxed at 115 lbs. Chris now weighed at her off-season weight of 200 lbs. She was no longer as defined as she once was and since she didnt restrict her diet anymore her breasts were full and her skin looked soft. She still had incredible upper arm mass, but fi you didnt know better it was difficult to tell whether it was plain old bulk or show-stopping muscle when she was relaxed or had clothes on. Chris was the mentor of the group and worked as a personal trainer for many people at the gym. Chris was divorced when she was in her late 20s from a man who hoped to be her partner in a life of bodybuilding and powerlifting. Although her ex had first introduced Chris to the world of pumping iron, after a couple of years the student surpassed her teacher, and not by just a little. although he tried as hardas he could, his genetics simply couldn't keep up with her's for strength or mass. For a year or so he said he was "very happy" for her and for her bright career, but then he suddenly left her without much of a clear explanation. The last Chris had heard of him was that he used to be a bouncer at a club until some buff motorcycle-gangster women beat the crap out of him in a fight and he developed a permanent bad limp and was now on disability. My sister was now 16, 5'8" and 180 lbs. She was fully ripped, rock-hard, and stronger than a bull. Although her martial arts training was predominately in judo she had the punching power of a freight train and a lightning fast flying reverse roundhouse kick that had won her more than a few street fights. Someone had witnessed her bench 355 lbs. once but it was unconfirmed. But more than benching, just like her mentor Chris, she loved bicep curls. Although she couldn't exactly be described as a shy girl, the one thing she was modest about was her bicep curling strength. She mostly did her heaviest curling at home. Our curling bar at home, when I saw it laying in her room often had over 200 lbs of weight on it, although I had never witnessed her actually curling the weight. We had dismantled the bench at home since it was too unstable to handle the kinds of weight my sister was used to working out with, even for warm-ups. All the iron plates, which I used to use for my bench pressing, were now in my sister's room, which she used for her curling bar. My sister wasn't sure if she wanted a career in judo, wrestling, kickboxing, or regular boxing, but whatever it was it had to involve serious fighting. She didn't have any tounament experience in any of the sports but had experience in street fights protecting her girlfriends and classmates against bullies, or protecting herself against harassers. Once she got in the local news for rescuing a man who was being mugged and severly beaten up by three guys who were armed with baseball bats and lead pipes. My sister calmly took out the three guys with some lightning fast judo moves and then tied them together using their belts. Then she punched them silly and left them a bloody and helpless mess by the time the cops came. They didn't seem to believe she had taken on the muggers alone but when she pulled up her sleeve and teased them with a coy display of her huge bicep, they believed. "Holy bejezus, i've never seen a girls arm so, uh, BIG & HARD before!" one cop siad as he shifted uncomfortably and readjusted the bulge in his pants. The local news reporter, a semi-macho type of guy twisted the storty around to suggest that maybe one of the muggers accidently whacked his partner and the third guy "slipped." But everyone who knew my sister believed her side of the story. The mugging victim was knocked unconscious by the time my sister got to him but eventually recovered. A couple of weeks later my sister got a big check in the mail from the guy, which she donated anonymously to a women's self-defense group. I was 17, 5'7" and 155 lbs. I could bench 175 lbs. and curl 95 lbs. I could have made better gains, but most of the time in the gym I served as a towel boy and gopher for the women. It was a busy job. I had to carry separate towels for each of the women, and had to mix and carry their specially formulated energy drinks, which was different for each woman. I also had to clean off the equipment before and after the women used them, also using a separate towel, or my shirt if I had too. Lots of times I had to go home with a shirt drenched in one or more of the women's sweat. The women were so focused on their lifting, they had very little regard for me or my personal belongings. They used my extra shirt to wipe their underarm sweat whenever they felt like it and they'd clean off their hands on the butt-cheeks of my pants. iF I were allowed to go into the woman's bathroom I'm sure they would have made me wipe their asses with my tongue. At least my sister would. We were sitting at a booth in the back of the bar in the eating section looking over our menus when a rowdy bunch of drunk guys came in. They looked like college frat guys, mostly football players. The University had played a game in the afternoon, which I heard they had won. it sounded like these guys were celebrating. While they hooted and carried on, they scammed the whole bar and we soon caught their attention. First a couple of them started looking at us, then they started pointing at us and talking to each other about something. We all knew it was inevitable that they'd come over and bother us sooner or later. And we all knew it was inevitable that they'd force us into some kind of physical confrontation after seeing all of the dense muscles packed into our booth. But nobody was scared, least of all me. If I were sitting with the four toughest guys in my high school I would have been nervous and would have found an excuse to get out immediately. But with my big sister and her superfighter megazon buddies I was safely sheltered in a massive fortress of muscle. As I instinctively retreated into the safety of Chris's lap she wrapped her big arm around my shoulder and told me not to worry. "What, me worry?" I said. I reminded the women that I knew first hand what kind of damage their bodies were capable of inflicting on male victims, no matter how tough they thought they were. My comments were met with knowing smiles and I could hear some knuckles cracking under the table. My sister started expanding her chest to fill her body with oxygen in preparation for the quick kill. A couple of the biggest and rowdiest looking of their bunch started heading over to our booth, and my heart raced as I anticipated the slaughter that was about to happen. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ My Big Sister IV Clara's younger sister Tina and I had been dating for 6 months now. Tina was going to a high school across town. She was a 17 year old 5'5" 165 lb. girl, who was captain of her school's boys wrestling team and shotputter on the boy's track team, and a hardcore bodybuiler/weightlifter. I met her during one of Clara's boxings matches that our workout group had gone to see, just a little bit after the incident at Stan's bar & restaurant. Oh yeah, I should tell you what happened that time, in case you didn't know. First the frat boys came over and started pestering the women and touching them in the wrong places, but they had to leave when Chris threatened to call the police. But boys being boys,they kept coming back, and finally out of frustration, one guy named Phil decided to "accidently" spill a big mug of beer over Melinda's head. We all almost got into a big rumble except that Chris got everyone to agree that each group should send out one representative to do all the fighting, and somehow amid the chaos, it was decided. We all left the bar, including every one of the 50 plus customers who had been in the bar. The big guy named Phil volunteered to be the frat boys rep and got a lot of high-fives from his buddies. "A little premature don't you think?" my sister said. Our volunteer was Melinda. We knew very well that it was going to be a quick and extremely uneven fight. Of course, no one else would have guessed at the time. Phil was about 6'3" and 315 lbs, so he looked like he might have a small outside chance. He was also a member of his teams offensive line, which made his friends think that he was a pretty tough guy. A bunch of well meaning customers from the bar were trying to stop the fight, saying it wasn't fair. Little did they know just who was really in danger of having his ass kicked. As the fight was about to begin, Phil decided to unbutton his shirt and take it all off. Maybe it was meant as a taunt. Melinda followed suit and took off her shirt. She got much louder oohs and aahs. And not just for her cleavage. She had an extraordinarily massive musculature, and it was completely pumped. Her biceps and shoulders were ravishing. Her shoulder tattoo of a woman warrior standing with her foot over a victims fallen body foreshadowed what was about to occur. Phil didn't look so cocky anymore but it was too late to back down. Melinda announced that she wasn't going to use her kicking ability, in order to make the odds a little more even. That really seemed to get Phil scared but it only lasted for a second. He had all his friends here and they were cheering him on wildly. He felt he couldn't lose, and especially to some crazy bitch. In the slugfest that followed it turned out Phil wasn't such a bad fighter after all, except that he was a little bit lacking on speed. They exchanged a couple of jabs before Melinda started coming in with some big crosses and quickly dropped Phil flat on the ground. Phil got up fast and tackled Melinda to the ground and they started rolling over each other in the dirt. Melinda's upper body strength advantage however was too much for Phil and she sat on top of him with her knees on his upper arms in the classic school ground submission position. Melinda pasted him a couple of good ones across his face then asked if he wanted to give up. She held back a little on the punches so she wouldn't do any permanent damage on the poor overmatched frat boy. "Eat shit and die, you crazy bitch" Phil said. He spit at her face and tried to buck Melinda off his chest. "Goddamn freak!" "Suck my fucking dick," Melinda said and she took him out with a giant punch into the side of his face. Melinda left him there for his buddies to carry back into their truck. We all congratulated her and were a bit relieved, even if we knew that Melinda was going to win anyway. We were surprised that Melinda was able to pull out the victory without resorting to a single kick, which was normally the most powerful, and favorite weapon in her arsenal. "I wanted him to have a fighting chance" she explained, "I wanted the moment to last." ### ### ### ### ### ### ### Now, Clara's boxing match was more of an even fight. She was on the card against one Lucy Davies, a ranked fighter from out of state. Lucy was a bruiser with a reputation for having no respect for any of her opponents, who she usually disposed of with extreme force. It was Clara's first real challenge of the year, her last two fights being against bigger, but severely outclassed men. Lucy was 5'4" 145 lbs and didn't have an ounce of fat on her body except for a little faint bulge on each breast. Her arms were thick and solid and looked like weapons of mass destruction. Her abdomen was armor-plated and her legs were curvaceous and muscular. Her blond hair was tied tightly into a single french braid. I knew if I ever had to face her in a real fight, the best thing I could wish for would be a quick and painless death. I sat next to Clara's sister Tina. The fight was tremendously exciting and we instinctively held each other each time big punches were being thrown in the ring. We held each other in fear whenever Lucy got in some good punches and we held each other in joy whenever Clara rallied with some punches of her own. Although I had noticed Tina's muscles already, they felt warm and even more enormous under my hands. I took every opportunity to size up and survey her entire body. The fight was exciting and had all of Tina's attention, especially since it was her sister Clara that was in the ring. After a paricularly good blow from Clara that ended one of the earlier rounds, Tina tossed me straight up in the air and put me in a tight bear hug. As I felt myself being weightless and being carried so easily by Tina's sturdy body, I knew that she was the one for me. Clara eventually lost the fight to Lucy in a decision but earned a lot respect and a lot of experience. Even Lucy acknowledged the fight Clara had given, and Lucy, who was undefeated against both women and men, said that this had been her toughest fight. We all gave Clara a hug right after the match and told her with time she'd be a champion. Clara seemed a little disappointed, but she also seemed to be happy to still be standing. No ordinary boxer, man or woman, could have stood up to the punishment Lucy had given out. I asked Tina out every night that week and soon we were going out steady. At first, Tina didn't like the way her sister and my sister and their friends treated me so she kind of stood up for me. She was my girlfriend and my bodyguard. She was stronger than her sister Clara and could hold her own even against my sister. Chris and my sister had to back off from torturing me while Tina was around, but at home my sister continued to keep herself in shape using my body as her punching bag. Tina, however, got along with everyone great, and before long she began to accept my role as lackey of the group and threw in some "friendly" (but very painful) punches of her own. During our workouts, she tried to push me harder so that I could at least look respectable while I worked out with the women, but no matter how much I gained, it was nothing compared to the women. After a month I began having sex with Tina, and for the first time in my life I didn't mind having my face between a girl's legs, since Tina wasn't crushing me to death with her legs. of course, at first, I was very apprehensive about voluntarily putting my head between a girl's legs, after all my previous experience with that portion of the female anatomy. When Tina teased me with a playful squeeze of her thighs, I almost jumped back twelve feet. She eventually coaxed me back to pleasuring her until she climaxed and I was rewarded with a sensual posing routine which nearly did me in. My fantasy with Tina was to fuck and come all over her biceps but I was never brave enough to try it. Tina wasn't my first sexual experience of course. My sister had forced me to have sex with one of her friends, a girl named Rachel, an eighth grader who had the hots for me when I first started high school. She was my first and we still occasionally got together these days too. I was also having sex with Chris regularly. Since she had been divorced, she hadn't been getting around too much and she let it all out on me, which I had to admit was a scary experience. She was in hte habit of inviting me over once a week for "wrestling practice". After a sweaty half hour or so of "wrestling", she ended up forcing me onto her pussy. She was always a little rough and left me with some bad friction burns on my tongue, but being in her mighty arms and laying under her muscular body was a thrill each and every time. I was having sex with her about once a week, usually on a Monday or Tuesday nights, which was good because I'd have time to recuperate by the weekend, when I'd usually take out Tina. I was having sex with Tina about three times a week, usually on the weekends since I was too depleted to have sex all week after my sessions with Chris. Chris and I kept it a secret, and my sister was the only other person who knew about it. I had the feeling everone was fooling around with everyone. I knew my sister and Chris had fooled around in the past, and I even got into it with my sister on one occasion. During the long minutes and hours I spent crushed between my sisters arms and legs, I often fantasized about my strong and beautiful Tina. Once I forgot who I was with and started licking my sister's private parts, to which she responded by rubbing off on me hard for an hour until she came. Too bad I can't remember all the details of that one too clearly since my sister roughed me up pretty bad that day and I passed out. I only vaguely remember holding tightly onto her behemoth biceps as she pumped me from on top and drained it all out in the most volcanic orgasm of my life. I've eagerly been awaiting for a second session, but I'm not too sure it's gonna happen. I'll just have to wait and hope.