Author: [shamus0013 = JPmanning75] The Raven

[shamus0013]

The Raven
by shamus0013 = JPmanning75
_______________________

For some reason or another, I had let my sister talk me into meeting at her favorite night club. It was a new Goth club in town, so I threw on a pair of black jeans and my Dethklok t-shirt. I even debated throwing on a little guyliner, but decided that was over the top.

I had gone upstairs with the intention of looking for my sister and instead found myself transfixed by a violet-haired girl dancing near the bar. Clad in a long sleeved black bodysuit that clung to her torso like a second skin, she radiated a palpable sensuality, femininity, confidence and power, giving her an air of inapproachability that was accentuated by the three-foot platform upon which she was dancing. I tried to steal glances, but to no avail; I couldn't stop myself from staring at her.

The vague, fleeting spotlights mounted above the floor suggested the girl had an exaggerated build. Her bare calves seemed to jut out above the top of her Doc Marten boots, forming huge inverted hearts; her cream-colored thighs looked more like tree trunks than human appendages in their girth. Her upper body looked to be no less impressive. If the body suit really did follow every contour, her arms wouldn't have looked out of place on a professional wrestler – and a male one at that – and were connected to bowling ball shoulders. Her waspish waist and a bust reminiscent of Lucy Pinder at her chestiest completed a frame so unbelievable that I ultimately convinced myself it was all a trick of the light, a flight of fancy by a brain that wanted to believe that women in real life could be constructed as they sometimes were in comics.

When the girl made eye contact with me, I froze. The look in her eyes told me she knew I'd been staring for what had been the better part of half an hour. Staring into my soul, the girl stretched out her left arm and extended her index finger. I mouthed 'Me?' as my heart leapt into my throat. The girl nodded, turned her palm up and curled her index finger towards herself.

In a trance, I walked towards her, realizing with each step that the thick, corded muscle was neither a product of shadows nor an overactive imagination. My blood ran cold as I wondered at the power contained within her overdeveloped frame and how she might use it on me. She must have seen the terror in my eyes as I calculated the possibility of escape, concluding that her massive legs, despite being bit shorter than mine, would have no trouble allowing her to overtake my stride, and God only knew what would happen if I disobeyed.

When I reached the edge of the platform, the girl bent down, placed her hands under my arms and stood up. Her face betrayed no signs of effort as my feet left the floor, my 200 pounds being supported only in her colossal arms.

"Did no one ever tell you that it's impolite to stare?" she asked, her violet eyes practically burning.

My mouth dry, I meekly croaked, "Yeah."

She extended her arms out and regarded me as if I were a t-shirt, which is about as heavy as I felt dangling above the floor as I was. Her musculature hadn't cost the girl her femininity. The girl had a button nose, large, piercing, violet eyes, high cheek bones and full lips. When Metal Gear Solid V burst on the video game scene a few years later, I thought she'd perhaps been the face model for Quiet. Finally, a smile crept across violaceous lips.

"You're lucky. I love Dethklok and you're really fucking cute. What's your name?"

"Wade."

"Tell me, Wade. Do you like what you see?" she asked.

I nodded emphatically.

"So do I. Let's dance."

The young powerhouse lifted me up high enough for my feet to clear the edge of the platform, set me back down and began to sway yet again. My heart still in my chest, I started to mimic her movements. The girl turned around and backed her nearly-naked, round, ass into my crotch and began to grind. Feeling my stiff movements, the girl took guided my left hand onto her granite midsection. Leaning her back into me a bit more, she wrapped her right arm around the back of my neck and pulled my head down to meet her shoulder. With her biceps bulging into my cheek, she whispered into my ear, "Relax and enjoy this moment."

Her right hand caressed the back of my neck, keeping my head next to hers as she kept time to the music. Deciding to take advantage of the opportunity as soon as she cocked her head to the side, I pressed my lips to her lily-white neck.

The girl closed her eyes, bit her lip and let out a long, low moan. "Wait. Not here," she said, pulling me off her. "I have an image to maintain."
I thought I'd screwed up, but after dancing for a couple more songs, the girl pulled me in tight and said, "Let's get a drink." She leapt down off the stage and just as I was getting ready to follow suit, she grabbed me at the hips, plucked me off the platform and set my feet on the ground.

"Uh, thanks, but – " I shut my mouth when she glared at me.

The muscular Goth ingénue took my hand and led me downstairs; I was surprised at the softness of her skin. We sat down together at the bar and the girl held up two fingers. The bartender stopped what he was doing, nodded and immediately set two expensive beers in front of us.

"At your service, Mistress Raven," said the very large man.

I was just about to ask the bartender back to open the bottles when "Mistress Raven" took a bottle in each hand. With a flick of her thumbs, the caps popped off.

"Thank you, Mistress Raven," I said, taking a sip from my beer.

"You don't have to call me 'Mistress Raven,'" she said, giggling slightly. "My name is Lenore."

"Ah. A derivative of 'Eleanor.' It means 'light,' or 'torch', which would account for the glow I see in your extraordinary eyes."

"Thank you," she said, her lips breaking into a vibrant smile. "You're quite disarming when you're not terrified."

"Well, my head's much clearer when I'm not being held three feet off the floor."

Lenore giggled. "I should apologize for being as brusque as I was upstairs. I've adopted an icy, aloof attitude to project in the club and I take great care to preserve that image."

"Why's that?"

"I like to wear clothes that accentuate my figure and show a bit of cleavage. So, I created a frosty demeanor to ward off wayward hands as efficiently as possible. Now, people only approach me when I beckon them. It's harsh, but effective."

"Oh. Too bad tonight wasn't a revealing night."

"You mean my ass hanging out of a bodysuit isn't revealing enough for you?"

"I'm more of a boob man," I said, feeling surprisingly bold.

Lenore turned from the bar to face me more directly and pulled her hands behind her head. She smiled and took a deep breath. It took me a moment to realize that she was attempting to tear a hole in her outfit using only her chest! I couldn't imagine that it was possible – sure, her huge breasts and supporting pectorals were visibly pushing the suit to its very limit, but even her ridiculous build wasn't capable of what she was attempting, was it? A loud rip answered my question. Before my eyes, a hole was growing in the spandex bodysuit, exposing more and more of her massive, milky-white cleavage as I could see her nipples begin to grow erect under the garment.

"Better?" Lenore asked, a coy smile on her face.

"Uh huh," I replied, my capacity for rational thought dwindling as the blood left my head to fuel a burgeoning erection.

"Most guys enjoy that. The real question is, what do you think of this?" Lenore asked, balling her right hand into a fist. She curled her fist to her shoulder, causing her biceps to swell into an enormous mound of power. The overfull sleeve strained under the pressure as Lenore pumped her arm once, twice, three times. Finally, she bit down on her lower lip and concentrated on the hypertrophied upper arm. Pouring her effort into one final flex, the spandex again yielded to the extraordinary girl seated next to me.

"Jesus, you're amazing!" I said dreamily. Without even thinking to ask, I began to caress her bulging arm. Unlike a bodybuilder who starves himself of water to prepare for a contest, Lenore retained enough to round off and smooth out her biceps just a bit. Even still, her arm was far harder than any I'd ever felt, closer to marble clad in silk than flesh. When I realized that I had just grabbed it, I looked up at her apologetically.

"It's okay," she said, rolling her eyes and smiling. "I don't bite. Unless you ask nicely."

"H-how big is it?"

"Not really sure. The last time anyone measured my arms, they were 17 and a half inches around, but that was senior year."

"Senior year, college?"

Lenore giggled. "No."

"So, are you even old enough to be drinking?"

"And how often do you think anyone tries to stop me?"

"Excellent point."

"If anyone carded me and I didn't bother to persuade him or her that there was no need, they would learn that I'm a couple months short of my twentieth birthday. And yourself?"

"I'll be celebrating the tenth anniversary of my twentieth birthday in about six months," I said sheepishly.

"It's okay, I like old guys," Lenore said, smiling. "They're more secure in their manhood, less likely to run screaming just because I'm bigger and stronger than they are."

"Well, you'd be able to catch them even if they tried, right?"

She gave a wry smile. "Maybe, but I wouldn't chase him. If someone can't handle my build, my strength, it's his or her loss. That's why I got into Goth culture in the first place. When everyone else was shunning me for how I was built, they accepted me for who I was."

"Lucky for you that purple really suits you. Where'd you get the purple contacts?"

Her smile returned. "I'm not wearing contacts," she said.

I took a swig of my beer, not sure what to say next. Then, my phone rang. "Shit. Sorry, Lenore, I have to take this. It's my sister."

"No worries."

My sister, as it turned out, wanted to change the venue on me, having just arrived at a bar a few blocks down the street and ignoring my pleas to come to the club I was at. I hung up and turned back to Lenore.

"Looks like my sister wants to meet at this bar down the street and since it's her birthday, I'm pretty much obligated to go. Would you, uh, like to maybe come down and meet my sister?" I asked hopefully.

"Isn't it a bit early to be meeting family, Wade?" She must have seen me turn a little downcast; I again thought I might have screwed up. Sensing this, she put her small hand on my thigh and giggled. "I'm just fucking with you. I'd love to go, but I'm meeting some friends here and then we're off to some sort of private party. However, I have no plans for tomorrow night. Want to meet up?"

"Fuck yeah!" I said, slightly embarrassed at the amount of enthusiasm I'd thrown into my response. "I mean, if you've got nothing else going on."

"Excellent." The girl picked my phone up off the bar, snapped a picture of herself, then dialed a number. She pulled out her ringing phone, rejected the call and snapped a picture of me. She tapped her name into my phone and handed it back to me. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Wade. I'll see you tomorrow at 8." She extended her hand toward me.

"Uh, yeah. See you then," I said, taking her small hand in mine. We shook and I left the club wondering if I'd done something wrong. I looked up her number on my phone to get another look at her and saw a close-up of her showing her bodysuit from the bottom of the newly formed hole up to a devious smile and nothing more.

"Wade!" I heard as I rounded the corner. I looked up and saw Lenore standing on a stoop that rose up next to the sidewalk that looked like it served as an emergency exit for the club. Before I had a chance to say anything, she'd bent down, cupped her hands under my arms, picked me up and brought me to her lips. I remember thinking I could die happy at that moment, her huge breasts pressing heavily against my chest as she gave me a long, deep kiss that burned with passion. She finally broke the kiss and held me out so I was just barely brushing against her breasts. "Tomorrow night, 8 o'clock sharp. Got it?"

"Got it," I responded, still woozy.

"Good. Otherwise, I'll get angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

[shamus0013]

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[JerusalemTulip]

This was terrific.  The first descriptions of the girl starting with "palpable sensuality" made me nervous because it seemed like summary, without letting me know what she looked like, but you more than made up for it afterwards.  Lenore's dialogue makes her seem very articulate and grounded for a twenty-year old, it will be interesting to learn more about her.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Really liked it, good job, Lenore seems to be an awesome physical specimen, very big, very strong and very sure of herself, just how I like my girls! k+!

[IBP]

This is a story by JPmanning75, posted years ago on © Saradas.

[shamus0013]

This is a story by JPmanning75, posted years ago on © Saradas.

I think you're referring to ALove, where my member name is jpmanning75. I also posted this on © Saradas as well. I've dug it up recently and begun to work on it again and thought I'd toss it up here.

[IBP]

Ah! Well if you are indeed the same then thank you very much, for this story has always been one of my favorites. Are you planning on writing anything new?