I apologize to everyone who was waiting for the next chapter that it took me so long to write it. I did not expect that to be so difficult
Now I am a bit wiser so I will not declare when the next installments will appear. All I can promise is that I will do my best to write them as soon as possible. And now - enjoy
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I dropped heavily onto the chair, and before I knew it, Emily had sat down right next to me on the other chair. With a sweeping gesture, she threw her gym bag on the table and took out her math book. She placed it on the table, opened it to the appropriate page and slowly slid it over to me. I reached for the book and for a moment our forearms were right next to each other. It was as if ... a sardine was swimming past a blue whale.
The contrast was incredible. I quickly pulled my hand away, thinking the contact had been accidental. But her arm slowly and surely followed mine, destroying the illusion. I sighed heavily and tried to read to get a picture of what they were learning. I was having a hard time concentrating, but I was trying really hard because every thought I focused on math was a thought I couldn't give to the girl next to me.
And of course, she wasn't much help. She got a hand gripper from her training bag and started using it. After only a few dozen seconds, the powerful veins on her forearm swelled even more, and I had the impression that each of them was thicker than my wrist.
That wasn't enough for Emily. After a while she moved her chair towards me. I felt a little as if a mountain had suddenly grown next to me. The girl's thigh touched my thigh and her arm pressed against my arm. I felt her intoxicating scent again. I shuddered with excitement and the erection in my pants became as hard as a diamond.
I pretended to read the textbook, but with my head down, I let my gaze wander from the pages to our thighs. It's hard to put into words what I saw. It's hard for me to convey the contrast between my skinny leg and pale skin and this mass of muscle covered in a silky, golden layer. It looked a bit like last year's dried stick had been leaned against the trunk of a sequoia tree. The girl's dress stood high and I could admire her thighs in all their glory.
I quickly turned my eyes back to the pages of the textbook and began to read frantically. The letters blurred before my eyes, but I ignored this and concentrated on one thing only: not looking down. Under no circumstances should you look down! But that didn't help much. Because right next to my forearm, which was resting on the table, her forearm was waiting. There was no escape.
So I closed my eyes and tried as hard as I could to think only about math, but how could I do that when I felt the presence of the most arousing woman in the world right next to me? I was getting harder than I had ever been in my life and my penis was pressing against the fabric of my shorts, visibly pushing it out. I looked down and, to my horror, saw a clear wet spot spreading across my crotch.
I turned my head slightly to see if Emily had noticed this uncontrolled reaction. Oh yes, she had. The eighteen-year-old stared at my erection like a hungry cat at a fat mouse. Gradually, panic overcame me. I sensed that the situation was starting to get out of control. So I suddenly jumped up from the table and asked nervously:
“Emily, would you like something to drink? I'm sorry, I should have asked straight away.”
The girl narrowed her eyes and replied:
“Oh yes, Mr. Anderson, it's suddenly unbearably hot in here, isn't it? I think you need a big glass of cold water too.”
I didn't have time to wonder if she was making fun of me, because I ran to the tap and poured some water. I sipped from my glass and put the other down in front of my tormentor. I quickly sat down on the other side of the table and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that I was at least temporarily out of danger. Emily grinned, rose from her chair and said:
“Oh well, we're not going to learn anything. A teacher can't be that far from the student. I need to see better what you're reading.”
Then she squatted on the chair and leaned heavily over the table, resting her forearms on the table. The result was that her huge breasts grew right before my eyes. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were thick and meaty, just like her muscles, with small areolas clearly visible under the fabric of her dress. It was very stretchy, but I swear I could clearly hear the whole structure of the dress starting to crack under the pressure of those gigantic tits.
It was too much for me. I was too weak, I just couldn't turn my head. I gave up and no longer cared if she was looking at me or not. I devoured her breasts with my eyes and wondered if they were more like basketballs, as I had previously thought, or watermelons. My mouth was wide open as if I wanted to press my lips to her nipples, my breathing quickened, my heart pounded as if it wanted to burst out of my chest.
It took me a moment to realize that Emily was saying something.
“Mr. Anderson, can you hear me?”
I nodded in agreement and concentrated on her words.
“This is a normal reaction, do not worry. You are a perfectly healthy man with normal reflexes, please do not blame yourself. You are just too weak, like other men, to take your eyes off my tits. And I do not see a problem with that. Quite the opposite. I like it when men stare at them. I just love it. I love seeing men fight this inner battle to stay in control, but inevitably end up losing it because they are too weak to resist the temptation I create.”
Emily spoke in a calm, vibrant voice that had a kind of hypnotic effect on me. So I continued to listen and continued to stare.
“But let us get one thing straight. If you ask me if my boobs are real or fake, and many guys do in a state of complete stupor, I will have no choice but to grab your head and squeeze it between my huge breasts so that the air supply is cut off. And I will hold you like this until you lose consciousness. So please think carefully before you insult an innocent girl with such a rude question.”
It took me a moment to realize what she had said. After another moment, I realized that she was absolutely not joking and that she was capable of carrying out his threat without the slightest effort. I was trembling, this time not only with excitement but also with fear.
Emily handed me her glass of water. I took a sip and put it down on the table. Suddenly, the girl tensed her pecs, her right breast rose and hit the glass with surprising force, causing it to tip over and spill the last of the water on my shorts.
“Oops, I'm so clumsy” - Emily winked cheekily at me.
I jumped up from the table and started backing towards the wall. The impact of her breast on the glass was still fresh in my mind, and I imagined with horror how her breasts hit me in the face with the force of Mike Tyson's fist. If I had been able to stay sober at that moment, I would have realized that this thought not only scared me to death, but also aroused me beyond belief. Unfortunately, I did not realize this because I was in a total panic.
Emily got up from her chair, looked me straight in the eye and slowly followed me. Step by step, with feline grace, she swayed her hips seductively like a model on a catwalk. After a while, I felt like I was leaning against the wall and could not run away. Emily slowly approached me without taking her eyes off me. I had the impression that her powerful figure was overpowering my whole world. The panic reached its peak and I began to tremble. I do not know what was stronger at that moment - excitement or fear.
An incredible mixture of hormones must have been swirling inside me. Emily stood right in front of me and breathed deeply, as if inhaling the scent of my desire and terror. As if she was feeding her with my feelings. We were the same height, so her huge breasts rested against my slim chest. I could clearly feel her hardened nipples sticking out like two bullets and touching my body.
Emily leaned slightly against my ear and whispered in that deep, sultry voice that dripped with lust:
“Mr. Anderson, calm down, I do not want you to have a heart attack here. Please relax and take a deep breath. I am not going to eat you.”
However, her voice and behavior suggested exactly the opposite, so of course I had no chance to relax. At this point, I had no doubt that Mrs. Hyde was back. I realized that I had absolutely no control over what was going to happen and that Emily was going to do whatever she wanted to me. That I would be a plaything in her powerful hands. I began to tremble more and more and looked into her eyes with horror. And she just stood there and enjoyed the moment, not rushing what was going to happen anyway.
And suddenly something happened. Something that happens in movies at moments like this. Salvation came at the last minute: the terribly loud doorbell rang. Emily wasn't used to it and looked around in confusion. I took the opportunity to rush to the door. I caught it with a few jumps and opened it. The delivery boy I was expecting today was standing in the hallway.
“Good morning, Mr. Anderson, I brought the washing machine, but I can't carry it by myself, can you help me?”
“Sure, let's go” - I almost shouted and ran down the stairs. At the door to the street, I almost bumped into Mrs. Smith, who had just come back from her walk with the Nordic walking poles.
“Mr. Anderson, is something wrong?” - she shouted in astonishment.
“No, everything's fine” - I said hurriedly, skillfully dodging her and running out into the street. I wanted to run away, but the truck stopped in my path. I felt like a hunted animal, I was trapped. I turned around in panic and saw the courier coming out of the gate. I had no choice, I jumped on the truck with him and we started grappling with the crate.
No wonder the courier couldn't handle it on his own. I had ordered a decent washing machine from the German company Miele, which weighed well over 100 kg. And the courier was a small guy, similar in stature to me. We barely managed to push the washing machine to the edge of the loading area.
The courier switched on the lifting platform and the crate fell to the ground. We squatted on either side and pulled on it. The crate went up, but it was clear that we couldn't carry it very far. We took about a dozen steps and dropped the washing machine on the ground with relief. We stood on either side of the crate, panting heavily from the exertion.
And then suddenly I heard a mocking voice right behind me.
“I just can't believe how weak men are today. Two grown men can't lift a small box like that. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it. Fortunately, the weaker sex is here. Gentlemen, get out of my way.”
We walked away from the washing machine without a word. Emily walked over, squatted deeply, and wrapped her powerful arms around the box. Then she tightened them like the jaws of a vice and a miracle happened. Every muscle in her body tensed and the teenager began to straighten up and lift the box. And it didn't look like she was struggling particularly hard with the weight.
Bloody hell, I cursed in disbelief. I immediately thought of a strongman competitor lifting stone balls. They balls weigh more than 100 kg, sometimes much more, but their shape is much easier to lift, and besides, the competitors only carry them to the platform. And Emily moved towards the stairs and began to carry the washing machine to the second floor with no visible effort.
The delivery man and I walked right behind the teenager and looked in disbelief at her calves, literally bursting with muscle. We were filled with their power, which seemed to transfer to us and harden our erections. Step by step, the hardness of our members was getting closer and closer to the marble.
We passed Mrs. Smith in the stairwell. Her eyes widened when she saw us, and Emily winked at her happily and chirped:
“Can you imagine two grown men not being able to lift such a tiny washing machine?”
Mrs. Smith took one look at the box with the washing machine and nodded: Yes, she'd believe it. Then she looked at us and widened her eyes even more when she saw our condition. Behind Emily stood two zombies possessed by uncontrollable lust. Both the courier's erections and mine were obvious as our members pushed out of the fabric of our shorts. We didn't care about our neighbour's reaction though, we didn't even noticed her, instead staring at our queen's calves, thighs, back and butt.
And that was a real feast for the eyes. Thick veins appeared in Emily's muscles and pumped streams of blood with the speed of a mountain stream. The muscles bulged and grew, even though it seemed impossible. The teenager carried the washing machine with grace and gently stood on her toes with each step, pumping her calves to incredible size. I only dreamed of kneeling at her feet and wrapping my hands around those calves and feeling them. I wanted to lose myself completely in this activity. And worship her body until the end of the world.
But by now we had reached the apartment door and Emily called out to me:
“Mr. Anderson, would you be so kind as to open the door for me?”
Her words barely reached me, but eventually I stepped closer and let her enter the apartment. She carried the washing machine inside, placed it on the floor, then leaned over and whispered in my ear in a voice dripping with sex appeal:
“Stay here and wait for me. And - I warn you - don't you dare stare at me while I tip the courier. The boy has gone to so much trouble with the delivery, he certainly deserves something nice.”
Emily winked at me, licked her lips sexily, turned around, and slammed the door behind her. And without waiting a second, I rushed to the peephole and started watching what was happening in the corridor.
Emily walked up to the delivery man and pushed him against the wall with a predatory movement of her powerful arm. She then raised the other arm and flexed her bicep, which exploded with a mass of muscle. The teenager leaned over to the courier and whispered something in his ear. The boy slowly raised his hands, placed them on Emily's arm and tried to encircle it. To no avail, of course, because the girl's arm was too thick. Emily began to flex her muscles rhythmically as she was whispering something in the courier's ear.
I saw the boy's body shake with pleasure and heard him moan loudly through the door. All the neighbours had to hear them as well. Emily continued to pump her bicep, and the boy was getting closer to orgasm with every second. It was only after 10-15 seconds that he stretched as if electrocuted and ejaculated into his pants in several waves of a powerful orgasm.
Emily unceremoniously stuck her hand in his pants, after a while she took out the boy's cum-covered fingers and put them in his mouth one by one, forcing him to lick off his semen. The boy sucked her fingers with the fervor of a newborn sucking on its mother's breast, and then slumped inertly along the wall to the floor. He looked as if he had lost consciousness.
And then I realized my pants were down and I was masturbating while watching this incredible show. I had just completely lost control of myself. If Emily had tipped the courier a dozen seconds longer, I would have come too.
And I was about to pull up my pants when I realized with horror that Emily had told me not to look, and now she was standing in the hallway staring piercingly into the peephole in the door, knowing full well that I could not stop myself and was seeing everything. The teenager grabbed the handle and started to open the door. I tried to grab it from the inside and hold it, but of course I could not stop the girl.
After a while, I stood in the open doorway, my shorts pulled down to my ankles with my penis so swollen it looked like it was about to explode. Emily slowly approached, looking at me with a penetrating gaze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Smith standing in the hallway, trying to take in the whole scene with her eyes. However, I didn't have time to be horrified by the fact that my neighbour had seen me in such embarassing situation, because Emily pushed me into the apartment and slammed the door behind her with a loud bang. My heart stopped beating with fear.
