I called Angela into my office. It was six thirty on a Friday and she and I were the last ones in the building. She had only been working for me a month, but she proved to be a solid employee. I admired her full and powerful physique as she approached; her broad shoulders, chest, and hips; her round Italian belly; her athletic walk. At 6' 1" we were both the same height, but she liked to wear those thick high-heels that are in fashion. That put my eyes at the level of her full lips.
She wore round librarian glasses, a short V-necked dress, and a black sweater buttoned only at the top button. She always wore a sweater like that. It looked at once bookish and exotic. Given the girth of her bosom, I don't think she could button the second and third buttons. The sweater just V-ed out from that top button over her breasts and dangled by her hips. Three inches of her bulging cleavage peaked out from the diamond created by the V-neck dress and the upside-down V of the buttoned sweater. She wore her black hair up in a bun.
The perfect mix of bookworm and Mother-Earth sex goddess - and fresh out of college.
She had to turn sideways to squeeze past me in the doorway. Her shoulders were too broad to make it through otherwise. Her breasts mashed into my chest and brushed my tie to one side as she passed. I inhaled her scent as she past, just like always. I jumped to sit down before she did to have the best view of her sitting down.
She bent over before me, waving her ass in my face as she dusted off the chair across from me, just as she always did. Then she turned and sat. Her knees drifted apart and I caught a glimpse of her bulging cotton panties before she slipped one smooth wide thigh up and over the other. She held a pad and pen and looked at me expectantly.
"I want to thank you for your late nights and effort, Angela." I said, forcing myself to look into her direct stare. She must have seen how openly I've been ogling her - what was she thinking behind those big dark eyes. "You are working out very well."
"Thank you, sir. I enjoy the work." She replied, direct as always.
I cleared my throat. "I wanted to express my gratitude for your effort..." I lost track. My voice was cracking and my eyes became transfixed my her bouncing leg as she kicked it up and down, quite out of mind. "That is..." I cleared my throat again. "If you like we could have dinner... to celebrate, you know."
I looked back up to her eyes. Her expression was unchanged, but she somehow locked me in her gaze. "I, um..." I tried to continue.
"Are you trying to come on to me?" She asked. I could feel the blood leave my face. "You are." she answered her own question. She removed her glasses and her face took on a less bookish, more playful appearance. "I bet you're one of those guys that fantasizes about big girls like me." She uncrossed her legs and left them spread apart. "I'm right, aren't I." she said with a twinkle in her eye.
My mouth was dry. I choked, realized I couldn't speak, so I nodded yes all the time looking for that glint of white panties.
"What is it you like?" Angela asked tossing her pen and note pad onto my desk. "No. Let me guess. You picture us wrestling around on this floor here, turning over chairs and ripping at each other's clothes. Then I bear hug the wind out of you. When you refuse to submit I smother you with these." She placed a hand under each breast and hoisted them up and down a few times. I began to squirm in my seat. She was reading my mind.
She glanced down at the growing lump in my pants. "Feel free to adjust that boner before you hurt yourself." she said.
I grabbed my cock and pulled it straight. It crossed my mind that this growing log might convince her to see things my way. My heart pounded. Now I felt the blood full in my cheeks and perspiration began to bead on my brow.
"What are you, sir?" she asked looking me up and down. "45, 50 years old?"
"45." I lied, not wanting to admit that her second guess was closer.
"And you want to take on a 20 year old girl who can obviously stomp your ass?"
Now I was really getting hopeful! "Well, I'm not so sure..."
"How much do you weigh?" she interrupted me.
"175 pounds." I answered proudly. I hadn't gained a pound since college. I worked out and felt pretty fit compared to other 49 year old business managers.
"I weigh 220." she said.
I gasped! She was full figured, but not fat! "How?" I whispered.
"Under this layer of fat is a thick layer of meat." she said slapping her sultry belly. "You take into account my height and that's a lot of dense muscle."
I must have looked disbelieving. "Okay," she said. "You make a muscle."
And so it begins! I thought. I popped my arm up and flexed for her. She reached over, clamped her long fingers around my biceps and crushed it like a Styrofoam cup.
While I screamed and clutched my arm she calmly removed her ever-present sweater. Her dress was sleeveless. The shock of seeing just how broad and powerful her shoulders and arms were made me forget about the damage she had so easily inflicted on me. And now five inches of cleavage was exposed! I didn't even bother looking down to her exposed panties now. Her upper body had all my attention.
| She lifted one arm up as if to make a muscle. "Go ahead and feel." she told me. I leaned forward and grabbed her biceps. My digits barely reached far enough to wrap over the top and bottom. I squeezed and encountered firm resistance, but there was a little give. I was impressed! Her arm was twice as thick as mine! Then she flexed. | 
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My hand flattened out against the side of her arm, no longer able to curve over the top or bottom. It was like pushing against a rippled brick wall! My heart pounded in my throat.
"Go ahead and punch it, hard." said Angela.
I drew my hand back and slammed it hard into her arm. Nothing. It didn't budge her.
"I said hard, sir. Go ahead. I want you to understand something." She was nodding and encouraging me.
I half stood from my chair and gave it to her with everything I had; one punch with all the force of my body behind it. Again her arm did not budge, but my knuckles and wrist cracked under the impact!
I fell back into my chair pulling up fetal around my throbbing fist. Tears covered my cheeks. But my cock still raged in my pants.
She replaced her glasses. She sat across from me with her hands folded in her lap, kicking her leg again. When I stopped writhing in pain she said, "Now you see how much more powerful I am than you. You are like a child to me. You still want to fight me, don't you."
My good hand was already on my rod, massaging it. God yes I wanted to roll on the floor with this demure beast! I nodded.
"We can fight, but it will not be what you want, old man. It will be what I want and you might not like it." she had obviously lost some respect for me. "Let me tell you a story." She stood, grabbed my shoulder, and lifted me from my chair. She only applied enough pressure to move me, not hurt me, but she was throwing me about out of hand. She pushed me into the chair she had occupied and took my executive chair. I enjoyed the warmth of the fabric under my ass. She lounged freely now, no longer pretending to try to keep her knees together.
"I grew up on a farm." she began. "At the age of ten I was chopping a cord of wood before breakfast. By the time I reached twelve I could chop so much wood my father had no place to put it. He asked me to stop.
"For exercise I took up cross country running and beating the crap out of my big brothers, usually all three of them at once. They were on the high-school football team, so my father asked me to stop beating them. But my developing muscles craved action. One night I went too far wresting with my father and began pimp slapping him all over the back yard. The power I felt from this made my blood rage! Now, I loved my father, and he had always been kind to me, so I made myself stop. That weekend he bought me a basement full of exercise equipment.
"When I was thirteen my brothers had a camp-out with some of their football buddies in the woods near our farm. It was a cool evening so I was walking in the woods. One of the boys, a senior linebacker, found me and started whispering to me, telling me how nicely I was filling out. I enjoyed the attention until his hand darted out and grabbed my tit. Out of reflex I snatched his arm, twisted him to his knees, then snapped his elbow backwards over my knee. The whole fight took ten seconds!"
She paused and closed her eyes. Her left hand drifted to her hem and pulled her dress up a bit. She came back to reality and stopped herself before masturbating in front of me.
"He didn't scream or cry." she continued. "He just passed out. I dropped him face down in the woods and went back into the house like nothing had happened.
"When I awoke the next day there was an ambulance in the drive and they were loading the boy into it. He was telling the driver a story about running in the dark and hitting a tree. My family guessed the true story. When I told my father why I had broke the boys arm he praised my virtue. My father was always very proud of me."
I was listening, but my eyes just roamed her body as she spoke. I rubbed my cock through my pants, unable to keep from beating off as I looked at her. She was a million miles away, telling her story.
"My freshman year in college I was still a virgin, my father's pride and joy. A skinny English professor took a liking to me and made me his assistant, sort of like you've done with me here. I helped him grade tests and collect material from the library. We spent many late nights rubbing legs under hard wood tables. I knew what I was doing, just like I know what I'm doing to you now. I enjoyed cock teasing the Jesus out of him. Sometimes I would make suggestive remarks, then play like a dumb young girl just to watch him squirm.
"He became bold over time. He told me he loved me. He recited romantic poetry to me and compared me to great works of art. I was amazed to see how much my figure resembles the ultimate in beauty in the age of high art." At this point she ran her hands up and down her form, lifting her dress up to her navel. I groaned and clutched my cock hard. She smiled over at me, admiring my torture.
"He was cute in a pencil-neck sort of way, but I wasn't ready for sex. I only wanted to drive him crazy and take up all his time and attention. One late night in the abandon lecture building he grabbed a kiss. That took me quite by surprise! It was not just that he had the balls to do it, but that he did it so well! I grabbed him and kissed him back, and I mean I raped his face with my tongue. When I let his lips free I told him, 'now apologize.'
"He said he wasn't sorry. That it was what we both wanted. I could see he wasn't properly intimidated. I told him, either beg for my forgiveness or I would break his arm. He laughed.
"Well that ticked me off! I snatched his arm and dropped him to his knees just like I had done to that boy so many years ago. He cried out from the pressure of my hands around his arm. Now he was starting to see things my way. I placed my knee against his elbow and flexed it a few times. 'Beg!' I told him. He started quoting from Shakespeare, you know, 'The quality of mercy is not strained', or some such thing. He was trembling, but I didn't feel he had his heart in it. So after several minutes of listening to his canned pleading, I snapped his arm like a twig." Angela giggled at the memory.
"To his credit he didn't pass out. He rolled and wailed right there in the middle of all those desks, flopping his arm this way and that. I stepped over him and left. Of course he made up some story. He didn't want it getting out that he was pawing a freshman virgin.
"Then, late in my senior year, just last spring, I found myself in a late-night party. I was getting pretty lit and didn't notice that all the other girls had left or been dragged to a bed hours ago. The dozen or so boys left eventually formed a ball of focused testosterone all around me. Fights began to break out as I paid attention to first one boy, then the next.
"It became a game for me. I chose even matched rivals and seduced them into fighting over me. When they had beaten each other for a while I delivered the final blow to each and chose a new pair. I think the last two saw me actually take part in the fight, because they started to look for a way out.
"Instead of seducing them I just took them on, smashing their faces together over and over. So much violence and beer had turned me on to the point I was willing to loss my virginity. I pilled all those boys up in the middle of the room buck naked and started humping random stiff cocks in the pile. I fucked till dawn without ever knowing which rod belonged to what boy!
"Only one boy remained conscious by daylight. I sat naked before him, dripping sperm and sweat, and demanded that he beg my forgiveness for what had just transpired. At first he just cried. Then I clutched his sack in my hand and looked into his eyes and said, 'You have ten minutes to convince me that all this was your fault and that you are very sorry or I will remove you from the gene pool.'
"Well, that got him." She had a satanic twinkle in her eye and a snarl curled her full red lips. I was learning to fear this twisted girl. "That boy put his full soul into begging me for forgiveness that he was unworthy of receiving." This time she did dip her fingers into the front of her panties, but soon slid them back out, dripping wet.
"That is when I found the kind of sex I truly enjoy. All that fucking, all that violence, those are just means to an end. What I like is to intimidate." She opened her eyes and froze me in her young gaze.
I sat, drenched in sweat, clutching my cock, cringing from her presence.
"So now, you and me are going to have my kind of sex. You are going to beg me to show you mercy - on my command. Do you understand me?"
"Yes mamm." I squeaked.
"You're already frightened, aren't you."
"Yes."
"You're a smart man. You are in grave danger." She said softly.
Her first command was only a whisper. I detected a flash of anticipation in her tone. "Strip." she said. And I dropped my clothes. My shaft bounced defiantly as I stood before her. She took off her glasses and leaned forward bringing her lips to within inches of my cock. I could feel her hot breath on my foreskin, but I dared not move to let our skin touch - she would rip me limb from limb!
I shook with fear as she cradled my balls in her hand. She rolled them around gently. I bit my lip. I could feel the surge of pleasure pulsing ever stronger up my spine.
"Oh ya!" She muttered as she ran her tongue up my shaft. I groaned and my rod became battering-ram hard. "If you come, I'll bite this cock off and stomp it into paste as you bleed on the floor." she said matter of factly. I believed her. Then she rimmed my cock-head with her lips and dragged those dangerous teeth gently down to my sack. She licked her way back up and plunged my meat down her throat only to slurp it back out again.
"I can't take it!" I yelled!
"You're going to have to, unless you can stop me." She replied sweetly. Her tongue rapped all the way around my pulsing pud as her hot breath pushed my pubic hair back and forth. She was panting heavily now too. Soon she brought her slippery cleavage into play. I was free to push and hump her tits and face, so long as I did not come.
Before it was too late, I tried to pull away, but she didn't let me. Instead she doubled her efforts, eagerly gobbling up my groin!
"OH GOD! PLEASE STOP!" I begged. "I'm gonna come!"
"And it will be your last." She whispered through heavy breaths. She looked up at me and plunged my rod deep into her bosom.
"Please! I'm begging you, stop! I can't hold back."
And just as the jiz began to rise up my shaft, she sat back leaving me to control myself. "Strange that you would beg me to stop giving you a blow-job, don't you think? Still, if you think it's for the best..."
The pain of blue-ball burned my groin. I dropped me to my knees and lay fetal at her feet. I just shivered, exposed before her. There was no way to make it to the door. If she became volatile, there was no telling what might happen!
"Kneel." She commanded. With some difficulty, I knelt before her.
She leaned back in my chair. Her knees stretched out to either side of me. "Look at my face, not my cunt." She instructed. I raised my eyes and looked into hers. She was savoring this. My fear was filling her needs nicely. "Now. Tell me why I should walk out of here without breaking your arm."
"P-P-Please." I stammered. Tears sprang to my eyes. "Please don't hurt me." I could speak in nothing more than a whimper. "I'll do whatever you want. Raises, time off, money. I'll do anything. Please. Just don't hurt me." Perhaps she didn't want anything. I was searching for what she wanted. She seemed to enjoy just listening to me beg. But my voice began to give way. I continued to mutter and whisper before her, begging for my life.
She crossed her legs and started kicking the top leg again. The top of her shoe kept slapping my full sack just hard enough to send a stitch up my side. I stopped speaking and tried to slide out of the way just a little.
"Stay." Her voice was low but threatening. I shifted my nuts back over her shoe and she continued to kick me. "Does that hurt?" she asked.
"Yes." I replied immediately.
"Why do you let me keep hurting you?" she asked.
"Because I don't want you to hurt me even worse."
"That's right." she kept kicking me gently in the nuts. "Do you know what I'm going to do next?" I had no idea. I just stayed still and took her low level abuse. I could do nothing but keep from crumbling from her mild torture. "Blowing you got me hot, and now I need to come, and I'm going to make you watch. Does that sound like fun?"
I didn't know how to answer that question. Her shoe against my nuts had most of my attention. Each kick bent me over a bit more as the stitch in my side grew worse. Eventually I found myself on the floor before her again.
She pushed one thick heel into my mouth and rested the other on my balls. As she pinned me to the floor this way she slipped her finger into her panties and went to work. She leaned back and gave it to herself good, relieving her own sexual tension even as she made mine worse. After several minutes and a few loud groans her come started dripping from my chair onto my carpet.
| Then she stood and lifted her skirt. She tore her panties off into shreds and threw them onto my desk where they landed with a wet slap. She stepped forward over me. She pulled me up to my knees and pushed my head back, forcing me to look close and personal into her exposed groin. "Touch me and I'll break both your arms." she snarled. Then she began to masturbate over me. As I watched she brought herself to a series of fantastic climaxes. Her juice dripped from her crotch onto my face. I swallowed and sniffed great gobs up my nose so that I could breath. Eventually my entire head was soaked. A little wobbly she fell back into my chair and let the excess juice drain onto the already wet fabric. "GOD I needed that." she groaned. "I bet you are about to explode. Do you want to fuck me?" she asked catching me admiring her tight and meaty quim. I cringed. She ran her finger around her lap lips. She spread them for me to see. "So close, and yet so far, eh?" she teased me. "Take me if you're man enough, big boy. Let me squeeze that tube right in here." Her finger dipped in. I almost came just standing there. |
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She stood and offered her ass to me, lifting her skirt. "Maybe you want my ass instead." she teased. "Go ahead and bend me over your desk, tough boy. If you can knock me over and fill my ass I'll be your dog, honey." |
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Then she grabbed me! "Whats-a-matter, boy! My ass ain't good enough? Maybe you need some manners!" She dragged me over to my desk.
She opened a drawer to my desk. "Put your fingers in here." she commanded. Slowly, reluctantly, I did. Then she straddled my hands and sat on the desk. The pressure of her ass cheeks closed the drawer tight on my fingers!
I writhed and cried out. She allowed my face to drop into her deep cleavage. Her bosom muffled my cries. The vibration from my screams seemed to turn her on all over again. Then she clutched my head hard between her breasts with her arms. Air became scarce. "Looks like you'll get that smothering you wanted after all." she laughed.
"Would you like me to get up and break your arm, or would you rather I just sat here for a few minutes more?" she asked. It was as if she were asking if I wanted sugar in my coffee.
But I had to answer. "This." I chose. "Please hurt me this way! God please!"
"Well, if you insist." she responded. Her few minutes turned into a full hour. By then I had no feeling in my hands.
When she stood up I collapsed to the floor before her. In a haze, I saw her step over me and to the door.
I woke up alone on my office floor several hours later. Somehow I made it to the hospital and home. It was the weekend so I had several days to recover and make up a story involving my car's trunk to explain my damaged fingers.
The worst part was, with my hands like that, I couldn't even beat-off very well. I had to settle for rubbing up and down on the soaped up shower door to relieve the pressure.
When I got to the office she was already their, dressed in her usual combo librarian/sex goddess attire - her hair up in a neat bun. I steered clear of her but she tracked me into my office. She waved me from my stained chair and took it for herself. "I enjoyed our game the other night." she whispered.
"Please, Angela." I began. "Let's not start again. I'll do anything you want, but please don't do that to me again."
"Or else what?" she asked. "Are you capable of stopping me? Are you going to go out there and tell everyone that the bookish new girl is threatening to kick your ass on a regular basis?"
I hung my head. What was I to do?
"I'll give you a break." she said. "My salary isn't much to live on. You buy me the condo I've had my eye on and I'll see what I can do."
I was astounded! A condo!
She read my reaction. "Deny me this and I'll break your arm right now and claim you tried to feel me up."
I hung my head again. "Yes, ma'am. Just tell me how much you need and I'll secure the loan."
"Forget it." she said. "I just wanted to make sure you would if I asked." She stood and walked to the door where she turned one more time. "As far as I'm concerned the other night never happened. We will go back to the way things were before." I sighed and my shoulders relaxed for the first time in three days.
"Until I feel you need another dose." She said and winked at me. "Can I get you a cup of coffee, sir?"
I hesitated, but her attitude seemed so genuine. "Yes, thank you very much Angela." I whispered.
"No trouble at all, sir. Anything you say." She left laughing. I never got my coffee.
