Strong Woman

[kot5510]

It was a small hardware store on the outskirts of town, the place where Lukas first really noticed her.

He was 27, worked as a self-employed carpenter, and came by two or three times a week to pick up glue, screws, or lumber. She was almost always there—behind the counter for structural steel and heavy loads, sometimes in the warehouse when someone needed something large.

Her name was on her name tag: Mara. Mid-forties, he guessed. Short, dark hair, which she practically pulled back. Arms that looked as if someone had inserted steel cables under her skin. No bodybuilder physique, no defined six-pack—just pure, functional strength.

He first noticed her when a customer tried to tilt two Euro pallets of 25 kg bags of cement at the same time to maneuver them onto his trailer. The man cursed; he couldn't get them up. Mara approached without a word, simply grabbed the two pallets by their slats—left and right—and with a quick, controlled jerk, lifted them to shoulder height. Then she carried them the ten meters to the customer's car as if they were two empty laundry baskets.

Lukas stood beside her with his box of screws and felt his mouth go dry.

In the following weeks, he watched her whenever he could, without being intrusive.

How she lifted an 80-kg bag of gravel with one hand to position it better.

How she straightened a bent steel profile with her bare hands because the hydraulic bender was in use.

How she laughingly helped a delivery driver whose forklift had gotten stuck—she simply hoisted the pallet up with her shoulder until he could free the forklift.

One evening, when the store was almost empty, he mustered up the courage.

"Can I ask you something that probably everyone asks?"

Mara raised an eyebrow. "If you're asking if I take steroids—no. If you're asking if I go to the gym—also no."

"No," Lukas said quietly. "I wanted to ask... where you learned that. This isn't normal training. It looks like you've been... I don't know... hauling logs for twenty years."

She gave a short, dry laugh. Then she studied him for a moment.

"Almost. My father had a small forestry business. From the age of twelve, I helped out every summer. Felling trees, delimbing them, rolling the logs onto the trailer by hand, sometimes four of us loading a 400-kilo log using only grapples and muscle power. In the winter, we split firewood—tons of it. No gym. Just work."

She shrugged. "You get used to it. Eventually, you don't even notice that other people can't do it."

Lukas nodded slowly. "I find it... impressive."

She looked at him longer than usual. "Most men find it impressive at first. Then uncomfortable. Then they leave."

"I'm still here," he said quietly.

Mara smiled for the first time. Small, but genuine.

It took weeks for the short conversations at the counter to turn into longer ones. Until one day, after closing time, she invited him for coffee in the small apartment above the warehouse. Until he touched her for the first time—carefully, almost reverently—and felt muscles tense beneath her skin, harder than anything he had ever touched.

And then came the evening when everything changed.

They lay in her bed, half undressed, still catching their breath from kissing. Lukas had playfully tried to turn her onto her back. She hadn't even used much force—just a slight twisting motion from her shoulder—and suddenly *he* was on his back, her palms propped up on either side of his head, her arms like pillars.

He laughed breathlessly. "Okay. That was... unfair."

Mara grinned crookedly. "Do you want me to stop?"

"For God's sake, no."

She slowly lowered herself until her forehead almost touched his.

"Does it turn you on?" she asked softly, almost cautiously. "That I'm stronger?"

Lukas swallowed. "Yes. Very much."

"Me too," she murmured. "That you want this. That you don't look away. That you... look when I lift something heavy. That your eyes darken then."

She kissed him hard, demandingly. Then she straightened up, straddled him—not gently—and took his wrists, effortlessly pressing them into the mattress above his head.

"Tell me if it gets to be too much," she whispered.

"It won't," he managed.

And then she showed him how little strength she had actually used.

Later, as they lay sweaty and close together, he stroked her biceps with his fingers, which felt as relaxed as a small stone.

"You know," he said softly, "I used to think that strength in women scared me. Now I know: It drives me crazy. In the best way."

Mara chuckled softly into the crook of his neck. "Good. Because I don't intend to ever shrink myself again."

"Don't," he murmured

Later that night, long after the last words had faded, they lay naked on their wide bed. The dim light from the streetlamp filtered obliquely through the blinds, casting harsh shadows on Mara's body. Lukas couldn't stop looking at her: the broad shoulders that rose and fell with each breath, the thick tendons in her forearms that, even at rest, were defined like steel cables.

He rolled onto his side and hesitantly placed a hand on her bicep—warm, unyielding, almost hot. She tensed her arm slightly, just the tiniest twitch, and the muscle bulged beneath his palm into a hard, rounded mound. Lukas's breath caught.

"Harder," she murmured.


He squeezed. It felt like he was trying to grasp a warm, living rock. Nothing gave way.

Mara suddenly turned toward him, swift and precise like a predator. Before he could react, she had seized his wrist—just with her thumb and forefinger—and effortlessly pulled his arm over his head, pinning it in place with one hand. With her other hand, she grasped his other wrist and guided it to the same spot. Both arms now above his head, held in place by a single, powerful hand. She didn't even need to exert much force.

Lukas gasped, half in shock, half in excitement. His penis twitched hard against her thigh.

"Too much?" she asked huskily, her lips just millimeters from his.

"No," he managed. "Just right."

She smiled darkly, leaning lower until her nipples brushed against his skin. Then she slowly straightened, still holding his wrists, and straddled his hips. Her weight pressed him into the mattress—not brutally, but decisively. He felt the immense power in her thighs, which tightened on either side of him like hydraulic presses.

With her free hand, she slowly ran it down his chest, over his stomach, until she grasped his penis. No gentle caress. She gripped it firmly—not painfully, but so firmly that he involuntarily thrust his hips upward. Mara chuckled softly, deep in her throat.

"You're already trembling," she whispered. "And I haven't even started."

She leaned forward until her forehead touched his and began to ride him slowly, agonizingly slowly—with just her hand. Every movement controlled, every compression precisely measured. When he tried to move his hips, she pressed her thighs together and held him still. Effortlessly.

"Stay still," she commanded softly. "I set the pace."

Lukas groaned, half frustrated, half ecstatic. His arms twitched under her grip, but it was as if he were fighting against an iron bar. She gave him no room to move.

Suddenly, she released his wrists—only to swiftly slide both hands beneath his back. With a single, powerful thrust, she lifted his torso, pulling him up until he was half-sitting, half-supported by her. Her arms now encircled him like a vise, pressing his ribcage against her breasts. He felt every single muscle in her back tense and relax beneath his fingers.

"Hold on tight," she whispered.

And then she lifted him—literally. His knees left the mattress, his weight suddenly suspended only by her arms and torso. She carried him, kneeling upright, holding him aloft like a trophy as she continued to work him with slow, deep thrusts of her pelvis. His cock slid in and out of her—she controlled the depth, the angle, the speed. There was nothing he could do but cling on, his fingers digging into her shoulders, where he felt muscles harder than any man he'd ever met.

"Fuck... Mara..." he gasped.

She grinned wildly, sweat trickling down her temples.

"Say it."

"You're... so much stronger..."

"And?"

"It drives me crazy... that you can just... take me... however you want..."

She rewarded him by suddenly dropping him again—controlled, but with enough force that the mattress beneath them bounced. At the same moment, she lowered herself fully onto him, taking him all the way, and began to ride him properly. Hard. Fast. Every thrust a testament to her power. Her hands gripped his hips, lifting and lowering him herself as she arched her back.

Lukas lost his way. His body reacted only instinctively—twitching, groaning, writhing. Mara leaned forward, lightly bit his shoulder, then his neck, marking him as she drove him on.

Just as he was about to explode

[kot5510]

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[GreatJustice]

Lovely story and a great start, but it looks like the text might have been cut off. Look forward to seeing the rest