No Idea?
Is it "The Bully", by Hatour? That's my best guess.
Yeah Thanks a lot, found her
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The Bully
By hatour@aol.com
It all started when my sister came home from school. I was visiting my parents during spring break. I m a sophomore at New York University and my sister has just started high school. I was in the kitchen, when my younger sister came running into the house crying. Being the wonderful older brother that I was, I followed her and asked her what was wrong. That s went I first saw her face. She had a swollen cheek, bloody mouth, a split lip, and a black eye.
"What the hell happened to you?" I asked.
"I got beat up. What does it look like?" she replied
"Who did this to you?"
"The school bully."
"Who is this school bully?"
"I can't tell or she'll kill me."
"SHE?!"
"Yea, she."
"Look, Jenny. I m your older brother. Your much older brother. I think I can handle your little bully, especially if it is a girl."
Jenny looked at me and thought. After a short silence, she said, "Her name is Shirley."
"Were can I find her?"
"We get off at the same bus stop. Do you really think you can stop her from hurting me?"
"Of course I can. How will I know what she looks like?"
"Don't worry, you can t miss her. She' s really tall."
With that, we made a plan. Jenny would ask Shirley over to our house to pick up the homework that Jenny was supposed to be doing for her. When Shirley arrived, Jenny was to leave and I was to threaten Shirley; making sure that she didn t bother Jenny again. At the time, it sounded like a good idea. But as you about to find out, it wasn't.
Jenny and I picked a night that our parents were out. Shirley came on time. Jenny escorted Shirley to the kitchen and than met me in the garage. That was my cue to enter and Jenny s cue to leave. That left me and Shirley all alone, in case things got rough.
When I entered the kitchen, Shirley was sitting down. Her wavy black hair was long and full and her eyes were clear blue. She was wearing a cotton jacket. She was obviously more mature than Jenny and looked a bit heavy. I though she didn t look so tough. She probably used her weight advantage to get what she wants. But I think I could take her if push comes to shove.
"So your Shirley," I said.
She cocked one of her eyebrows, "Yea. Who wants to know?"
"I'm Jenny's older brother."
"So?"
I walked around the table to stand right next to her. I leaned in and said, "I hear that your beating up my kid sister."
She stood up .and up and up. When she was standing at full height, I only came up to the bridge of her nose! Now I'm not short. I m not tall, but at 5 10", I can hold my own. She was standing so close to me I could feel her breath on my face. "So what if I am. What are you going to do about it?"
"If you don t stop, I'll be forced to kick your big fat butt."
She stepped back and looked me up and down. I thought she would be impressed. I've been working out since I went to college and looked pretty good. I made sure to wear my polo shirt (It always makes me look big) and khaki shorts. My ego was shatter when she replied, "You?"
"Yeah, me!" I said, a little upset that she didn t take me seriously.
"Don't tell me you think you can take me on." That s when she peeled off her cotton jacket. I was able to see her arms for the first time. I could not believe it! Her muscles were so thick, they belonged to an oversized football player, not a girl who's a freshman in high school! There wasn't even an ounce of fat on them either. You could see the clear definition of the bicep and the tricep. Her tricep looked huge and her biceps looked enormous. I couldn t even begin to imagine what her arms looked like when they were flexed.
I must have been staring at them for a long time, because she began to giggle. That's when I realized that my mouth was hanging open. I also realized that you could see my reaction in my pants as well, as my member was beginning to press against my fly.
She sauntered up to me and put her finger on my chest when she said, "You have a pretty face. Do you really want to mess it trying to take me on?"
That's when I got mad. I drew back my fist and hit her square in the middle of her stomach. But instead of feeling her collapse around my fist, my fist turned numb. It was like I hit a solid side of beef hanging on a hook in a refrigerating unit. The resounding THUD echoed through the kitchen.
She gave a little chuckle and smiled at me if I were a foolish little child. She lifted the hem of her white blouse and said, "Look. You did even leave a mark."
I looked at her stomach and she was right. There wasn t even any evidence that I had punched her. What was more amazing was the condition of her abdominals. They looked like they were carved out of marble. Not only could you see her "six-pack", you could also see her side abdominal muscles.
"I've got an idea," Shirley said.
"Are you a gambling man?"
"Yea," I replied, rubbing my hand.
"I'll stop beating up your sister if you can beat me arm-wrestling."
"What's the catch?"
"No catch. You even get to set the rules."
"And what do you get if I lose?"
"I get to relieve my tension you, anyway I wish," she said with an impish grin. She looked down. "I might even relieve some of your tension."
I couldn t believe it! She was actually coming on to me. I can only guess that no one found her attractive at her high school. It was also a safe bet that she was a virgin and that she was seeking some experience. This thought both aroused and frightened me. But I didn t think that it would come to that.
"Okay, here are the rules. One match, winner take all. Are you a righty or a lefty."
"A lefty."
"You have to arm-wrestle with your right hand, your weak hand. I can do anything I want to win. You, on the other hand, can t move from your seat or use the side of the table for leverage. Do you agree?"
"Agreed. But before we start, I d like you to know what your getting into. Do you have a tape measure?"
I knew this was a scare tactic, so I said, "No."
"That's okay," she replied, "we'll use mine." She pulled out her tape measure and I took it from her. "Let me warm up my arms before you measure them."
Let me tell you something about my parents. They love sturdy, old-fashion oak furniture. The coffee table, the entertainment center, and even the chairs are made of solid oak. Since they bought the furniture, they had not rearranged the room because it was to difficult to move them. Shirley positioned herself in front of a lounge chair. She bent down, grabbed the legs at the bottom of the chair, and lifted it up! Her arms exploded with power. Her biceps were the size of cantaloupes. Than she blew my mind when she began to pump it up and down. It hardly looked like she was straining. However, her biceps were beginning to grow as they warmed up. To see the way her arms were working was enough to get me hard again. They began to grow as big as my legs.
She stopped suddenly and put the chair back on the floor. "How much do you weigh?" she asked.
It was my time to intimidate, although I had already come to the conclusion that I was hopelessly overmatched. "Two hundred even," was my response, although I only weighed 165 lbs.
"Well, hop on the chair. This chair isn t heavy enough to give my arms a warm up."
Not heavy enough! I thought. She had to be kidding me. The chair had to be at least 70 lbs. and add about 50 lbs. because the way she was lifting the chair; 120 lbs. wasn't enough to give her a warm up?!? I smirked at her as I walked and sat on the chair. I knew that there was no way she could lift the combined 285 lbs.
She bent down and I was lofted into the air. She began to pump the chair up and down again! "That s more like it," was all she said. Looking at this amazon work her arms up close was nothing short of amazing. I could not fathom that a girl in high school, let alone a full grown man, could lift so much. Her arms was mind boggling. My now throbbing penis was pressing hard against my pants.
When she finished her last rep, she held me in the air. I could not tell you how many times she lifted me and the chair up, but I lost count at twenty. "I can see that your anxious to begin, so we'll measure my arms now and start the arm-wrestling match."
She put me down and I got out of the chair. My hands were trembling as I began to measure. I could not believe that I was so attracted to her. She was so muscular and sexy. Her breasts were pretty well developed for her age. They were big enough so she could not be mistaken for a man. But she was bigger and stronger than any man I have ever seen, even in a magazine. Her biceps measured a huge 21 inches!
"Okay, now that we have that out of the way, lets get down to business." She walked to the table and sat down. "I'm ready when you are," she smiled.
I walked to the table. I thought that the only way I could possibly win was if I caught her by surprise and I put all my weight into it. I sat down across from her. We locked arms. Her forearms were longer than mine and got up to put a book under my elbow. Shirley watched with amusement but said nothing. We locked arms again. Her forearm muscles were bigger than my biceps.
I counted, "1 ..2 ..3!" Right before three I got up and put all my weight and effort in pushing her arm down. It didn t work. I kept trying, but she kept her arm perfectly still and vertical.
"Tell me when you start," she taunted. Her arm was an immovable object. She finally took pity on me and slowly pinned me.
She wiped her hands together and stood up. Even though I knew it was coming, I still couldn't believe it. A high school freshman just beat me. A girl! But than I realized that I had to relieve some of her tension. That's when she interrupted my thoughts.
My legs lost their grip on the ground and were dangling in the air. She had picked me up under my armpits. When we eye to eye, she kissed me. It was a deep, passionate kiss. I was instantly aroused. That's when I though ..Fuck it. Here s the girl of my dreams. She makes Dorian Yates look like a pencil-necked geek with pipe-cleaner arms. She may be young, but her body isn t and I'll be happy to please her.
She carried me into my room and put me down. She took off all of her clothes. I was able to see her legs for the first time. Her quads were so defined, it defied imagination. They where as big as two of me. The individual parts of her thighs were the size of two pythons next together. Her calves shoot out from thin knees and ankles. She was huge and she was mine.
She ripped the clothes off me as if they were tissue paper. My cock was relieved to be released. "Now that I have won. I want you to fuck me. And you better make it good, because this is my first time. If I'm not satisfied, I'll kill you and your sister."
She picked me up and threw me onto the bed. She jumped on top of me and said, "Please me." It was my pleasure. I started at her biceps. They were so hard, I bet that they would cut glass. I caressed every part of her body with my lips. Her eyes were glazed over with pleasure. That's when she started to moan. She was wet and ready.
I inserted my penis in her tight love canal. I almost came right then and there, but she started to gyrate her hips. I was so strong that I almost screamed in pain. She ignored my expression of pain and kept on pumping on my cock. As she started to work me, I began to escalate to heights of ecstasy I have never reached with more experienced lovers.
We started to pump in unison. That s when she started to scream. She grasped the two solid metal poles that were my bed posts over my head. We started to pump faster and faster and faster. We came together in a chorus of screams. Her orgasm was so intense that she bent my bed posts in half.
When her orgasm subsided, she got off of me. I was totally spent. "My God that was great," she said. "Your sister is safe from now on. That is as long as you continue to pleasure me." She cuddled next to me and fell asleep.
When I woke up, she was gone. Was that all a dream!? I looked up and the metal poles were not bent. Shit! I thought. I had finally found the girl of my dreams and she turns out to be a dream.
I got out of bed and showered. As I was combing my hair in the mirror, I noticed something on my metal bed posts. I walked over them and my heart soared. There, on the metal bed posts, were the hand indentations that Shirley made when she had her orgasm.
THE END
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