The Forgotten School Acquaintance

[diabolodiabolo]

The Forgotten School Acquaintance

I stood in the middle of the noisy chaos of the FIBO trade show, my visitor ticket in hand, my heart already beating faster. Early 40s, average, rather unsporty build—1.70 m tall, a slight belly from the office job and too many evenings in front of the screen. No one would have guessed what was going on inside me. For years it had been my absolute secret: I was into muscular women. Not just a bit toned—no. The more muscle, the better. Female bodybuilders with huge, defined mountains of pure muscle tissue that looked like they could crush me with one hand. Almost every night I jerked off to photos and videos of pro women on Insta****, YouTube, or in old magazines. In my fantasies they never let me keep control. Light domination—they did whatever they wanted with me. I was their toy. And the bigger and harder their muscles were, the harder I came.

Today was the perfect opportunity. FIBO—the biggest fitness and bodybuilding trade show in Europe. Stages everywhere with women in tiny bikinis posing, showing off their biceps, triceps, quads, and traps. I strolled inconspicuously through the halls, phone ready for sneaky photos I could enjoy in peace later at home. My pulse was already racing at the sight of every broad shoulder or thick, veiny thigh.

Suddenly a female voice called from behind me: "Frank? Frank, is that really you?"

I turned around—and froze for a moment. In front of me stood a woman I immediately recognized, even though she had... completely changed. Lena. From my old school class. The shy, somewhat boring Lena who had secretly been in love with me back then. I had never really noticed her. She had always been tall—maybe 1.75 m already at 16—but thin, almost lanky, with long brown hair and a pretty but unremarkable face. Not my type. I had treated her kindly but distantly.

Now... she was gigantic. At least 1.90 m. I had to tilt my head back to look her in the eyes. She wore loose black training clothes: a baggy hoodie and baggy pants that hid everything. But even at first glance I noticed how wide her shoulders were. The hoodie strained over her upper arms as if it would tear any second. Her neck was thick, almost bullish, and her face... still pretty. Big brown eyes, full lips, a smile that was both shy and warm.

"Lena... wow, what a surprise!" I said, trying to sound cool. In truth my heart was pounding faster. There was something... different about her presence. Powerful.

She laughed softly, almost nervously, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, I recognized you immediately. You haven't changed much. Still the same Frank." Her voice was deeper than before, but still feminine. She looked at me as if searching for something. "I... I'm still a little bit in love with you, you know? Since school. Stupid, right? After all these years."

She blushed. Really blushed. And I could feel how insecure she was. She knew me as the guy who liked slim, "normal" girls. She had no idea I wanted the exact opposite. That I fantasized about a woman like her—just much more muscular—simply lifting me up and using me.

We talked for a while. About old times, what we were doing now. She mentioned casually that she had been doing bodybuilding for years, "to stay fit." But her eyes watched me closely, as if testing whether I would be put off. She knew many men found muscles on women "too much." She was still completely in love—I could tell from every glance, every hesitant smile. But she was shy. She kept her arms pressed to her body, as if she didn't want to show anything.

Me, on the other hand... I slowly began to understand. When she laughed once and the hoodie shifted slightly, I caught a glimpse of her neck for a second. Thick. With distinct traps rising like two small mountains on either side. The sleeves strained over upper arms that were clearly not normal. And when she stretched once to point at a stage, the pants tightened over her thighs. I saw the outlines... huge. Thick, round quad muscles pressing against the fabric as if they wanted to burst the seams.

My cock stirred in my pants. Lightly, but noticeably. I was getting aroused. Really aroused. I imagined what was hiding under those loose clothes. Mountains of muscle. Huge, hard, defined mountains. Bigger than any woman I had ever seen online. And she was 1.90 m. Me only 1.70 m. She could treat me like a doll.

Lena noticed my stare. She blushed even more, but instead of pulling back, she tested cautiously. "You're staring at me like that... do you think I'm weird because I've gotten so big?" She lifted her right arm very casually, as if just checking her watch. The sleeve strained. For a tiny moment I saw the outline of a bicep as thick as my thigh used to be. A thick vein ran over it. She dropped the arm immediately, but she had noticed. My gaze had lingered.

"I... no, not weird at all," I stammered. My voice was a bit hoarse. "You look... impressive. Really strong."

She smiled shyly, but something new flashed in her eyes. Hope. Curiosity. She suspected it. "Really? Most men find it off-putting. All these muscles..." She almost whispered. "I've trained so much. Sometimes I think I should hide it better."

But she didn't hide it completely anymore. As we walked on, she once "accidentally" rolled up her sleeve just a bit. There it was: her forearm. Thick as my upper arm. With clear veins and musculature that looked carved from stone. She flexed it lightly—just a little—and I saw the muscle mound swell. My cock got hard. Really hard. I had to hold my hands in front of my pants.

Lena saw it. Her eyes widened briefly, then she smiled—this time not just shyly, but with a hint of triumph. "You... you actually like it, don't you? Muscles on women?"

I just nodded. Couldn't lie. "More than you know."

She bit her lip. "I have a hotel room nearby. Just 10 minutes on foot. Do you... want to come with me? I could show you what I'm really capable of. But only if you want. I don't want to scare you off."

My mouth was dry. "Yes. Please."

We went. In the hotel elevator she stood right in front of me. 1.90 m pure presence. I smelled her perfume mixed with a light sweat scent from the trade show day. Her shoulders almost filled the entire cabin. She looked down at me, still a bit unsure, but with growing arousal.

In the room she closed the door. It was a normal hotel room, but to me it felt like a stage. Lena stood in front of me, hands still at her sides. "I... I'm not sure if I should really show this. A lot of men run away when they see how extreme I've become. My muscles... they're not normal. Not even for female bodybuilders. I've been taking everything that helps for years. And I train like crazy. 6 days a week, 3 hours a day."

She hesitated. Then she slowly pulled off the hoodie.

And I saw it.

Under the tight sports bra appeared shoulders that looked like two boulders. Traps rising almost to her ears. Delts so round and massive that her arms almost stuck out horizontally. Her biceps—even relaxed—were already bigger than my head. Thick, curved mounds with deep separation. Veins as thick as my little finger ran over them. Her chest wasn't large—but underneath lay two huge pectoral muscles that almost burst the bra.

"Oh God..." I whispered. My cock throbbed painfully in my pants.

Lena saw my bulge and now smiled properly. "You... you really are into it." She began to pose slowly. First a front double biceps. The arms rose, and the biceps exploded. Two huge, rock-hard balls, higher than any man I had ever seen. The veins pulsed. "Look at this, Frank. These aren't normal arms. 55 cm cold. And I'm not even pumped yet."

I gasped. My hands shook. I was so aroused I almost wanted to come without her touching me.

She turned sideways. Side chest. Her pecs bulged forward like two armor plates while her lats spread like wings. "And this... my back. 140 cm wide. I could crush you with it if I wanted."

Then the legs. She pulled off the pants. Underneath she wore only a tiny string. Her quads were monstrous. Each head individually as thick as my waist. Deep separations, veins like road maps. When she hit a quad pose, they swelled—hard, defined, unnaturally huge. "1.90 m height and 120 kg pure muscle weight, Frank. I'm stronger than most men at this show combined."

I stood there, completely fascinated, my cock already leaking into my underwear.

Lena stepped closer. Her hands—huge, strong hands with thick fingers—laid on my shoulders. "You're so small compared to me... 1.70 m. I could lift you up and use you for hours." She pressed lightly. I felt the power. Unbelievable. "But first... I want to undress you."

She pulled my shirt over my head, then my pants. My hard cock sprang free. She smiled. "So horny for my muscles... good."

Then she took off her own bra and string. Naked she stood before me. 1.90 m pure, extreme muscle mass. Her abs were an eight-pack, hard as concrete. Her thighs didn't even touch, so thick were the inner muscles. And between her legs... a large, swollen clit, clearly visible, thick as my little finger—the anabolics had done their job. Her pussy looked tight, but the inner muscles... I already suspected how trained they were.



She smiled triumphantly when she saw my hard, throbbing erection standing straight up. "Good. Then let's really get started. I'll show you everything now. And you can touch... lick... kiss... whatever you want. But I decide when you get to come."

Lena stepped down from the bed and positioned herself right in front of me, only half a meter away. Naked. 1.90 meters of pure, overloaded muscle mass. 120 kilos, almost entirely muscle. Her skin glistened slightly from the day's light sweat, every vein standing out like a river on marble. Her pretty face—still the same one from back then, soft and feminine—contrasted incredibly with the monstrous body beneath it.

"Posing routine. Just for you. Front double biceps first."

She spread her legs slightly; her quads immediately separated into four distinct heads per leg, each as thick as my forearm. Then she slowly raised both arms. Her shoulders—delts like two bowling balls—rolled forward. The traps rose almost to her ears. And then the biceps exploded.

Two perfect, symmetrical mountains. 55 cm circumference, cold, as she proudly told me later. The peak rose so high it almost touched her forearms. A thick, pulsing vein ran over the summit like a rope. The separation between biceps and brachialis was so deep you could slip a finger in. She flexed even harder—the muscle grew even harder, even rounder. "Touch it," she ordered softly.

My hands trembled as I stood up and gripped both biceps. Stone. Warm, living stone. I could feel the individual muscle fibers under the skin. My fingers didn't even come close to wrapping around. I squeezed—nothing gave. Instead she flexed harder and the biceps swelled even more under my hands. My cock twitched wildly; a thick drop of precum ran down.

"Do you like it? That I'm stronger than you could ever imagine?"

I just nodded silently, throat dry.

Next pose: Most muscular. She leaned forward slightly, placed her hands in front of her stomach and pressed her shoulders down. The traps exploded upward, her neck almost disappearing between the muscle mountains. The pecs bulged forward like two thick armor plates, nipples hard and small on top. The lats spread like eagle wings—140 cm back width, she said later. The abs—a brutal eight-pack—contracted, each plate as thick as a brick.

"Kiss my abs," she said.

I knelt down. My face was exactly level with her navel. I pressed my lips to the hard plates. They felt like warm, smooth stones. I licked over them, tasting salt and skin. She moaned softly—for the first time showing real arousal. Her large clit, swollen from years of steroid use and thick as my little finger, stood out stiffly. Her labia were plump, the slit beneath tight and wet.

"Continue. Side chest."

She turned sideways, one hand on her hip, the other raised to her chest. The side pec jumped out, the serratus like a saw blade underneath. The oblique abs pulled into a hard diagonal line. The front leg's quad tensed—a mountain of four heads shaped like a horseshoe. The hamstring behind it so thick and defined you could see the tendon.

I was allowed to put my mouth on her side quad. The skin was taut, the muscle beneath pulsing. I sucked lightly, licked the deep separation between the heads. Her breathing grew heavier.

"Now the back. Back double biceps."

She turned around. Her back was breathtaking. Two huge lats sticking out like wings. Beneath them the erector spinae like two thick columns on either side of the spine. The traps rose like a mountain ridge. She raised her arms again—back double biceps. The lats spread even wider, the rear delts rounded off. The biceps from behind looked even more massive, the peak pointing upward.

"Put your hands on my back and press as hard as you can."

I did. My palms lay on the lats—they didn't give a millimeter. I pushed with all my strength. Nothing. Instead she tensed the lats—and suddenly it felt like a wall was building under my hands. I gasped. My cock was dripping nonstop now.

She turned back around. "Now the lower part."

She stood wide-legged. Rear lat spread. Then... quad stomp. She stomped lightly with her foot—and the quad exploded. Every muscle head popped out, the vein on the vastus lateralis pulsing visibly. She hit a crab most muscular—the entire upper body tensed, traps, pecs, arms, abs—everything turned into a mass of pure, hard flesh.

"Now you may kiss my clit."

She sat on the edge of the bed, spread her legs wide. Her thighs were so thick they almost filled the space between them. The large, swollen clit protruded, red and sensitive. I leaned forward. My lips enclosed it. It was hard, hot, throbbing. I sucked gently—she moaned loudly, her hands grabbing my hair.

"Lick my pussy. But slowly."

I let my tongue slide deeper. Her pussy really was extremely tight—the outer lips plump, but the entrance narrow. But inside... oh God. As soon as I pushed my tongue in, I immediately felt the trained inner muscles. Her pelvic floor was steel-hard trained. She could rhythmically contract her pussy—like a fist closing around my tongue. Tight. Powerful. Wet. I licked deeper, tasting her—sweetish, salty, aroused.

While I licked, she worked my cock with one hand. Her fingers were thick and strong. She gripped it firmly—not painfully, but dominant. Slow, controlled strokes. Every time I was close to coming, she squeezed the base hard and stopped. Edging. Merciless.

"Not yet. Only when I say."

She stood up again. "Last pose. For your climax."

She lifted me—just like that. Both hands under my armpits. 1.90 m against 1.70 m. 120 kg of muscle against my 80 kg. I floated. My legs dangled. She held me effortlessly in the air as if I were nothing.

Then she set me down again—but only to push me onto the bed. She knelt over me, her huge quads on either side of my head. She slowly lowered herself until her wet slit was directly over my mouth. Facesitting—but controlled. She didn't put her full weight down, but enough that I felt her muscle power.

"Keep licking. And jerk yourself off. But come only when I say."

I obeyed. My tongue deep inside her, her inner muscles milking me rhythmically. At the same time I jerked my cock—fast, desperate. She tensed her quads—the muscle mountains pressed against my cheeks, hard and unyielding.

Suddenly she moaned loudly. "Now... now come for me!"

She pulled her pussy back, leaned forward and took my cock into her mouth—just the tip. At the same time she squeezed my balls hard with one hand. The orgasm exploded inside me. I cried out as I came—thick, hard spurts shot into her mouth. She swallowed everything, kept sucking, milked me dry.

But she didn't stop.

"Round two is coming right up," she whispered. "I'm far from finished with you..."

She grinned broadly, her full lips pulling into a predatory smile while she still held my softening cock in her hand and gently massaged it to get it hard again. "Round two. And this time I ride you properly. Slowly. So you feel every single muscle I've trained—even the ones you can't see."

Lena stood up, her 1.90 m towering over me like a living monolith. 120 kg of muscle mass that trembled slightly with restrained power at every movement. She grabbed me under the armpits—again that effortless lifting strength—and practically threw me onto my back in the middle of the bed. The mattress sank deeply under my weight, but when she knelt over me it sank even deeper under her 120 kilos.

Her huge quads enclosed my hips like two living vices. The outer sides of her thighs—the vastus lateralis—bulged outward like two gigantic horseshoes, while the inner muscles (adductors) were so thick and hard they almost touched, even though her legs were spread wide. Every vein on her legs pulsed visibly, thick as pencils.

She lowered herself slowly, very slowly. At first I only felt the heat of her wet slit against my tip. Then she pressed down further. Her pussy was truly extremely tight—the entrance felt like a steel ring that only reluctantly stretched. But as soon as the tip was in, I immediately felt the trained inner muscles. The pelvic floor, trained for years with Kegel exercises combined with steroids, closed around me like a pulsing fist.

"Do you feel that?" she whispered hoarsely. "Those are my inner muscles. I can milk you with them until you beg."

She began to contract rhythmically. Slowly. Powerfully. Every pull felt like a warm, wet hand squeezing my shaft from base to tip and releasing again. My cock immediately became rock-hard again, throbbing painfully in her tightness.

While she rode me, she kept posing—as if this were one endless show just for me.

She raised both arms into a double biceps right above my face. The 55-cm bicep mountains rose high, the peak so sharp and hard it almost touched her forearms. "Look. While I fuck you, I show you my arms. The arms that can lift you like you're nothing."

I stared up, almost drooling. My hands automatically reached up and gripped the biceps. Stone. Unyielding. I squeezed as hard as I could—she just laughed softly and flexed even harder. The muscles swelled under my fingers, growing even harder, even rounder. At the same time she squeezed her pussy—a hard, long pull that almost made me come.

"Not yet," she said sternly. "I decide."

She switched poses without breaking rhythm. Arms behind the head—vacuum pose. She sucked in her stomach, the eight-pack became even more brutal, each plate popping out like it was carved. The serratus sawed into her ribs on the sides, the obliques pulled into hard diagonals. And all the while she kept riding me—slowly, deeply, controlled. Every downward thrust made her quads explode, the muscles tensing like ropes under the skin.

"Grab my quads," she ordered.

My hands moved down. Each quad head was individually palpable—four huge, separated mountains per leg. I pressed into the vastus medialis, felt the hard bulge right above the knee. As she sank deeper onto me, the muscles tensed under my hands—and at the same time her pussy milked me again. Tight. Hot. Merciless.

She leaned forward, her massive pecs hanging over my face like two hard armor plates. The nipples were small and stiff. She squeezed her pecs together—a chest flex—and the muscles bulged even further forward. "Lick them."

I took one nipple into my mouth, sucked on it while she kept riding. Her traps rose high on either side of her neck like two mountains. I reached up, gripped a trap—thick, hard, unyielding. She moaned as I squeezed.

Suddenly she changed her grip. With both hands she grabbed my neck—not hard enough to choke, but enough to make me feel who was in control. Her forearms—thick as my calves—lay against the sides of my neck, the veins pulsing right against my skin. "I could hold you like this while I ride you. All night. And you couldn't do a thing about it."

The light domination almost made me explode. My cock throbbed in her tight, milking pussy. She felt it.

"Do you want to come? Say it."

"Yes... please..." I gasped.

"Then come. Now. Deep inside me."

She sped up the pace—still controlled, but now deeper, harder. Her inner muscles contracted in waves, milking me rhythmically while she squeezed her quads around my hips. The muscle mountains clamped me in, held me tight. At the same time she tensed the biceps still at my neck—a light pressure that took my breath away just a tiny bit, just enough to make the orgasm even more intense.

I exploded. Spurt after spurt shot out of me, deep into her tight, pulsing pussy. She moaned loudly, her own inner muscles spasmed—she came with me, her large swollen clit rubbing against my pubic bone as she trembled.

But she didn't stop riding. Slowly, on and on. My cock stayed hard inside her, overstimulated, sensitive.

I lay there, completely spent, my body still shaking from the most explosive orgasm of my life. My cock was still throbbing as if she had squeezed it empty with her inner muscles—spurt after spurt, endless, more brutal than anything I had ever experienced. Lena lay half on top of me, her 120-kilo muscle body pressing me deep into the mattress, her hard pecs rising and falling right over my face. Her breathing was heavy, but she grinned—that predatory, triumphant grin that made her pretty face so incredibly dominant.

"You gave so much..." she whispered, kissing me gently on the forehead. "But I'm far from finished with you."

Before I could say anything, she sat up. Her quads tensed like two gigantic steel cables as she pulled away from me. A warm gush of our mixed fluids ran out and dripped onto my hips. She stood up—1.90 meters of pure presence—and looked down at me. Her eight-pack contracted with every breath, the veins on her shoulders and biceps pulsing visibly.

"Get up," she ordered softly. "Or better... let me lift you."

Her hands slid under my armpits. Effortlessly. As if I were a feather. Suddenly I was floating—my legs dangling, my head level with her massive shoulders. Her biceps exploded immediately into perfect, round mountains—55 cm cold, the peaks rising so high they almost touched her forearms. Thick veins ran over them like ropes. The traps rose almost to her ears, her neck disappearing between the muscle mountains.

She simply carried me through the room like that. Every step made her quads tremble—four huge, separated heads per leg that bulged like horseshoes with every footfall. The separations grew even deeper, the veins thicker, darker. Her ass—two hard, round gluteus maximus mountains—tensed with every step, no jiggle at all, pure, unyielding power.

I saw everything in the large mirror on the opposite wall. My small, unsporty body (1.70 m, slight belly) dangled in her arms like a doll. And she... she looked like a living statue of muscle. The lats spread like wings, 140 cm back width that expanded even further with every breath. The erector spinae ran like two thick columns down either side of her spine.

She turned us both so my back pressed against the cool wall—or rather, against the mirror beside it. Now I could see everything: myself, tiny against her, and above all her—every muscle exploding with the slightest movement.

"Look," she whispered in my ear. "Look what my muscles are doing to you."

With one hand she kept holding me up—just one hand under my ass, fingers digging firmly into my cheeks. With the other she guided my again-hard cock to her wet, tight slit. Then she slowly lowered me.

The entrance was tight again—a steel ring that only reluctantly stretched. But as soon as the tip was in, her trained inner muscles closed around me like a pulsing fist. Hot. Wet. Merciless.

She began to thrust—standing, pinning me against the wall/mirror. Every thrust was controlled, deep, powerful.

And with every single thrust her muscles exploded.

The quads—oh God, the quads. With every lift and drop the four heads per leg tensed so brutally that the separations looked like deep trenches. The vastus lateralis bulged outward like a gigantic horseshoe, the vastus medialis swelled right above the knee. Veins as thick as my little finger pulsed visibly over the skin. In the mirror I saw how the muscle mountains contracted in waves with every thrust—a dance of pure power.

Her glutes were even more brutal. With every forward thrust the two round mountains tensed so hard they almost turned square. The deep cleft between them became even clearer, the hamstrings at the back of her thighs pulling like thick ropes. In the mirror I saw how the glutes contracted and released with every thrust—pure explosive force.

And her back... the back was the craziest. Because she was holding me up and thrusting against the wall, I saw everything in the mirror: The lats spread like gigantic wings, pulling even further apart with every thrust. The traps rose high like two mountains almost touching her ears. The erector spinae—two thick, rope-like columns—tensed with every thrust, rising and falling in rhythm. The entire back turned into a living map of muscles exploding with every thrust.

I couldn't look away. My cock throbbed in her tight, milking pussy while she used me. Her inner musculature contracted rhythmically—sometimes hard, sometimes loose, sometimes in waves—and milked me mercilessly.

"Look, Frank," she gasped. "Look how strong I am. How easy you are for me."

She sped up. Every thrust harder, deeper. Her quads pressed against my hips, clamping me like a vice. Her ass tensed so hard I could see the individual fibers twitching in the mirror. Her back—broad, massive, glistening with sweat—exploded forward with every thrust.

I couldn't hold it anymore.

"Please... Lena... I'm coming..."

"Then come," she commanded. "Deep inside me. While you watch my muscles take you."

I exploded again—not quite as extreme as the first orgasm, but still incredibly intense. Spurt after spurt shot out of me, deep into her pulsing, tight pussy. She moaned loudly with me, her inner muscles spasmed around me, milking me dry while her quads, glutes, and back kept exploding—an image I would never forget.

When it was over, she held me up for another moment—still standing, still pressed against the wall. Then she slowly let me slide down until my feet touched the floor. But she didn't let go. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me against her hard, sweat-soaked body.

The night was still young... and her muscles still had so much more to give.

[diabolodiabolo]

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[watson2022]

Hope more to come.

[hatour]

This was an amazing story.