He’d heard about Betty’s aggressive sexuality and man-eating legs. Then he got drunk enough one night to find out for himself.
Ryan had just turned 21 and was out with his buddies at Kendall’s, the college sports bar in their town, when talk turned, naturally enough, to sex. Ryan was a good looking kid, but shy and hadn’t had a lot of luck with the ladies. His buddies teased him endlessly about that, especially tonight during Ryan’s impromptu birthday celebration.
“Know what you need, dude?” Billy laughed, shoving another shot of Jack in front of his pal. “You need a couple hours with Betty.”
“Betty the bonecrusher, you shitting me?” laughed Jimmy. “She’d eat the little fucker alive!”
“Yeah, but he needs it, dude, he never had his pipes cleaned,” Billy said as Ryan slugged back the shot of bourbon.
“Guys, I’m sittin’ right the fuck here, you’re talking about me like I’m not,” he laughed, glassy eyed and totally fucked up. “Betty, huh? Yeah, I heard about that cunt, bring the bitch on!”
His buddies looked at him, each other and busted out laughing. Ryan never talked this boldly, except when he drank, which wasn’t often.
“Yeah, Betty is definitely in order,” Billy laughed, flipping open his cell and punching in numbers. “Yeah, Betty? Hey, babes, Billy….yeah, that Billy…hey, honey, got a proposition for ya….”
He went on telling her about Ryan, who sat staring goofily at him and barking out “C’mon bitch, bring it on!” into the phone. Betty laughed on the other end; the 40-year-old single mom loved young studs, especially rich college studs like Billy, who agreed to pay her a couple hundred to, as he put it, “break Ryan in.”
Ryan popped down a few more shots before Betty came. She stood before him, towering over him as he sat, looking up through blurry eyes.
“Well, Betty the bonecrusher, nice to see ya,” he slurred, offering his hand and grimacing when the big woman crushed it in her paw.
Betty was a huge woman, amateur bodybuilder and lover of young bucks like Ryan. She stood six feet tall, weighed a stony 200 pounds and every inch of her – especially her legs – rock-solid muscle. The curly-haired woman was a looker, pretty face, high cheekbones and a winning personality. She wore a pair of hip hugging cut off jean short shorts that clung to her 33-inch quads like blue glue, her 17-inch calves fisting up out of her low brown leather hiking boots. Up top she wore a denim tank top, massive shoulders and striated tits exposed along with the biggest arms in the bar this night.
“Glad to meet ya, sonny boy, let’s me and you go celebrate in style,” she growled, lifting the 5-6, 150 pound Ryan out of his seat and into her big arms with one sweep.
The boys roared as they watched her waltz out of the place carrying the smiling college student, the other patrons giving him a thumbs up. She whisked him off to her van in the parking lot, pulled the door open and tossed him inside to the matted area in back. She climbed in and shut the door, standing up as best she could and pointing to her legs.
“Know why they call me bonecrusher, stud?” she growled. “Cause of these!”
Ryan smiled drunkenly and before he could respond found himself face down on the mats buried in Betty’s tree trunk thighs. She had pulled him into her pussy, grinding her cunt into his face and lacing her mammoth upper legs around his neck and skull. The pain was insane and intense, white hot sheets of agony coursing through his entire upper body as she went into a pumping, pulsating motion, humping his face madly in her cunt, her thighs spasming and quivering against his ears, hunching up and down, legs jackknifing, snapping, crushing.
“Yeah, baby, FEEL THE HEAT!!” she screamed, totally caught up in the action of using her young stud’s face for her own pleasure.
Ryan’s head swam from the pain and the fact he was stinking shitfaced drunk, but mostly from the pain. His hands pounded the beer kegs around his ears that were Betty’s tireless thighs and through blurry eyes he could see her tearing off her halter and tweaking her fat nipples in her powerful fingers, just over the swell of her six-pack abs. He screamed in agony, begging for release, but his words were lost in the musky clamp of her cunt, which was now directly in his face as Betty had somehow pulled the fabric of her tight shorts aside. Her hot clam bathed Ryan’s scissored face, her cunt lips spreading wide like meaty, wet fingers and wrapping around his chin and cheeks.
“Lick my cunny, scissored slave!” she screamed, pulling on the back of his head. “Or I’ll show you why they call me BONE FUCKIN’ CRUSHER!!!”
He knew, but he licked anyway and licked and licked, feeling Betty’s gushy cunt drench his licking mouth, sucking his tongue deep into her clinging hole, muscles even in that, milking him and nearly tearing it out of his face. He felt a hard nub against his nose as he licked and through alcohol- and pain-blurred eyes, saw the biggest fucking clit he’d ever seen just below his nose before it in fact disappeared up his nose: She was now fucking his nostril with her girl dick as she washed his face in her pussy juice.
“FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAH!!!!” the muscle bitch screamed, thighs throbbing harder around his ears, bending his jaws, making his skull sections grind like tectonic plates, taking him to another dimension of pain despite the booze numbing his body. “FUCKIN’ YOU WITH MY CLIT YOU BITCH!!!!”
He’d heard about steroid girls growing clits like this but never thought he’d see one, much less have one stuck up his nose like a fucking pencil eraser. She finally eased off her cum, after about five solid minutes of head-splitting scissor action, and humped to a standstill, her huge body bathed in sweat. She let him go and yanked her shorts all the way off, puling Ryan’s pants off as well and sucking his cock to life, no small feat given the Jack he’d been swilling all night like a drunken sailor.
“Fuck me, stud, fuck me and I’ll do you good, big muscle girls REALLY know how ta fuck!” she hissed, pulling him toward her and blanketing his skinny sides in thighs as she impaled herself on his cock, screaming as she did. “FUCK ME!!!”
He did, or rather she fucked him, using his body, tensing her thighs and relaxing them, the throbbing motion forcing him up and down in her legs like a scissored rag doll, up and down he went fucking her, or her fucking him, those thighs wound like thick bands of rubbery wood around his aching guts. She wore him out and wore him down, squeezing him so hard she popped a couple of his ribs and didn’t hear him scream as she double arm locked his face to her sweaty, heaving tits to quiet him, his moans lost in the hammy smother of her wet, muscular tits.
He came, he thought, something happened like an orgasm, but he didn’t care, he just wanted out and when Betty let go the leglock, his ribs throbbed anew as they snapped back into place after what seemed like a week in her punishing fuck grip. She rolled him out and lay back, panting, off in another world and Ryan off in his, a combination of too much drink and good old fashioned fuck fog. He felt his ribs burn and his jawbones ache.
“Now you know why they call me Betty the Bonecrusher, stud,” she laughed, reaching for his flaccid cock in one thick, muscular hand and stroking it. “You want more?”
He groaned, and whipped his clothes back on before stumbling out of the van where his buddies stood in a circle, laughing. He tripped into the middle of the circle to his knees and started heaving, great gales of vomit splashing onto the cold concrete and steaming into the early-morning air.
“Happy birthday, stud,” Betty the Bonecrusher laughed, slipping into the driver’s seat of her domination station on wheels.
His pals dragged Ryan to his feet, the muted glow of the nearby streetlight lancing into his eyes and sending him back to his knees for another quick round of heaves. Laughing, Billy pulled him up again and shoved an open pint of Jack under his nose.
“Drink up, dude,” he laughed. “It’ll kill the pain.”
It didn’t, it hurt to drink, hurt more to swallow and hurt a lot more to laugh the next day when his friends told him what happened….
The End
