Warm Down (Futa/F, Muscular female, shower)

She guiltily checked the catch on the shower cubicle door as she fondled her boobs. It was shut.

With a little huff of lust she felt one of her hands slip down to begin soaping up her cock, the flesh tender and sensitive after being crammed up inside her pussy for the last hour. The size of the thing made her pussy ache after a while and, though it was half hard now and quite formidable, it had been mercifully soft during her set.

The changing room door opened and shut and she frowned. It was the first thing in the morning and she had been alone doing her cardio. The only other person had been a huge bodybuilder guy lost in the nest of weights and benches at the other end of the gym. She'd only even known he was there due to the clanking of the weights.

What was he doing in her changing room?

“Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello? This is the ladies' changing room!”

Worried, she rinsed herself off and turned to reach for the shower controls.

There was a metallic squeak from behind her and she turned her head, startled, her black tumble of curls flinging water in a spray as she reflexively covered her breasts with her arms and clapped her thighs together.

The door was open, a glimmer of silver metal in one strong hand the incriminating evidence for how the intruder had overridden the lock.

“Hey honey, I'm Gina. Nice ass,” came the smooth, caramel voice of the bodybuilder...woman, behind her.

Pecs at least the size of an old phone book each, thickly pronounced and shredded, veins scribbled wildly like sub-dermal tattoos, cradling silly, tiny looking bolt-on implants. Abs that fought for space on a belly that looked like some wild confection of loaves pulled out of a baker's oven, straining to cover and outmatch each other. Arms that seemed to throb with muscle and blood and heavy, pulsing veins. A body at peak muscularity. At peak pump.

Tracy was feeling a barrage of emotions whipping through her, embarrassment, pride (weirdly), shock, anger, a strange urge to laugh and, even more weirdly, lust.

She couldn't take her eyes off the wall of muscle blocking the shower door, blocking out most of the light from the changing room beyond, lit only by the single downlighter for the shower itself. A naked wall of muscle.

Tellingly wet from what Tracy might have described as the lower abs to the upper thighs... or simply the region occupied by a meaty, pouting pussy crowned by a thick clit.

Tracy's cock was rising, she could feel it thicken and swell, feel her balls swelling as they went into overdrive. Still, she didn't turn and face the intruder, instead remaining, looking over her shoulder, cheeks flushed with anger and a craving for that huge body.

“Who the fuck are you, and what the hell do you think you're doing?” she snapped.

“Me? I'm Gina, the local chapter of the Lesbian Fuckmeat Trappers. I'm here to show you the joys of being my next bit of lesbian fuckmeat... bitch.”

Until the last word, the muscle woman's voice had been silky, amused, inviting... but the 'bitch' had been raw with lust and aggression. It was the kind of sound that lit a fire in Tracy.

She didn't move as Gina stepped into the cubicle a little way, parting thick, powerful thighs to let a strong hand diddle that obscene looking muscle clit as stray fingers stroked the puffy folds of her pussy and came away gleaming.

“I know you want this... now be a good little sub and get your face in my damn pussy!”

Tracy felt her heart sing as the predatory syllables danced across her ears. She loved it when they talked dirty.

She loved it when they felt in control.

A wet, powerful hand closed on her arm and pulled her back to the blocky brawn of the woman, but she was ready, turning in the demanding grip and seizing Gina's ass in return, effortlessly lifting 320lbs of yoked female muscle off the tiles as her cock swung around and up like a spear.

A savage jerk of her hips pushed the first six inches of Tracy's cunt-stretcher up into Gina, the champagne bottle thickness of her shaft and head drawing a shuddering gasp from the huge woman.

Tracy grinned wolfishly as she looked up at the taller woman, perched as she was even higher up on the exposed thirteen inches of Tracy's monster cock. She squeezed Gina's glutes as she watched the bodybuilder's chest work frantically, shallow, irregular breathing from the pain and the shock and the sheer unexpected sensation of sexual fullness making those implants jiggle invitingly.

“Nice ass,” she mocke

... more on the forums ...