I’ve been pondering this question a lot lately and I’m struggling to find an answer.  There have been elements of sexual submission that have appealed to me from my first sexual relationship and naturally that has developed as I’ve tried new things.  I’ve never felt as if there were particular acts that I had to include in order to have a fulfilling sexual relationship but recently I find my sexual response to be far more intense if an element of pain is included.  It doesn’t have to be much, spanking, flogging, the use of nipple clamps is something I particularly enjoy right now but will this evolve further and at some point will I feel these things have to be included in order to feel fulfilled sexually.  Am I becoming more masochistic as I get older? and what does that even mean?

Web definitions
  1. someone who obtains pleasure from receiving punishment

    http://wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn?s=masochist

If there wasn’t a part of me that obtained pleasure from punishment then I surely wouldn’t allow myself to be in a relationship where my partner was allowed to punish me.  Does that make all submissives masochists?

I can hear cries from submissives reading this saying no absolutely not but then at what point is the balance between pleasure and pain just right for it to be described as masochism?  Does there have to be an emotional element?  I’m not okay with humiliation.  Does more extensive physical damage need to occur? I’m definitely not okay with being cut.  Neither of those things is specifically stated when defining masochism though so how do you decide?

Finally, if masochism is simply the act of obtaining pleasure from pain then why is it seen as such a perversion even by some in submissive relationships who receive punishment.  It seems far more perverse to be in a relationship where you allow that but gain no pleasure from it.


Friday night. We are dining on a boat on the Danube. I know how much you enjoy food. It’s one of those last nights that you can sit outside on the deck.

You are wearing a tight fitting gray and black dress. You’re not showing cleavage, because you are too tasteful, too elegant, and too hard to get to put bait in front of guys like that.

We are not sitting across from each other, but side by side in a corner.

Our fingers our exploring and interlocking under the table. One of my hands is running along your thighs, sqeezing your firm flesh under the cruelly restricting textile. I can feel your energy go up. You seem quite calm on the outside, but I know what’s stirring inside. I slip my hand under your dress and up to your back. I can’t go much higher, but I stroke your lower back. I draw circles with my fingers. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anyone as smooth and soft as you. You press your leg against mine, hard. You look all feminine and fragile, but you are strong. I feel the power of your leg rubbing against mine. Most of all I want to cling you in my arms, hold you tight and press you against me, but we have manners. We do have manners, so we are trying our best to keep this sort of decent, sort of inocuous still. Inside there’s this frantic fever to try and figure out how I can give you more pleasure, what would be nicer for you, what would feel better, which spot would delight you more, which speed, how much pressure. The only force even more distracting than this is the hunger I feel for you. If I don’t sink into you tonight then life doesn’t make sense, existence becomes some sick game with arbitrary rules, and me the pawn of some twisted upper being who likes to play tricks on me. That can’t be the world we live in. Tonight I will sink in you, bathe in your spirit, and you will open up for everything that nature wants me to give to you, man to woman.

You think you are the one who is nervous. You are so worried about how you will please me, that you can’t see how nervous I am. I am deadly afraid of dissapointing you. It’s like the ultimate test of manhood, will I be enough for you? I know, sure, mentally yes, you can drink of me, like a source of mineral water when it comes to the mental level, but the physical level? I suddenly feel like a overly courageous, naively eager dwarf who is trying to wield weapons that are totally outsized.

We eat steak. We need it for the night that lies ahead. You are brimming with energy, it’s burning in your eyes. I suppose others can’t see it, you can often seem so delicate, so innocent, but not to me. I see fire in you. I see passion. I see hunger. I see someone who wants to take my hand and dive way deep all the way down the well of human emotion, of interconnectedness, of blending with an other human being. Merely feeling your fingers gently squeezing mine, running all over my hands, as though they are excited mice sniffing on cheese, merely that fulfills me with such warmth, such wholeness. It’s completion I feel with you.

The waitress is trying to stay professional, and perhaps she really isn’t noticing, or perhaps she is very good at pretending to be noticing. I mean, it’s not so clear if she can actually see that my hand is firmly between your legs, pressing hard against your crouch, and hating textile for throwing up a barrier between my skin and your most intimate parts.

We go to our cabin, feeling giddy even though we didn’t drink any alcohol. I’m so nervous from you, so boiling inside, that I’m terrified my equipment will not do what it’s supposed to do. The last thing I want to do is increase the risk of malfunction by pouring alcohol on it. I will be concentrating on kissing you, on licking your pussy until you can’t anymore, but still, am sure you’re expecting more than that and I don’t want to fail you. The bloody irony is that there’s physically nothing wrong with me, it’s just the nerves, the damn nerves, the ball of pent-up energy in my stomach that wants to get rolling just to glide with you in a cloud of tenderness.

Even before we close the door of our cabin behind us, I am already holding you. We are breathing at the same speed now, it adds to our feeling of unity. I kiss you very deliberately on your forehead, because I want to make sure you feel safe. We are only going to do things that you actually desire.

How does one begin a night that you desperately hope will be one of the most memorable nights in the memory of an other person?

I want to slow down time. I don’t want to rush. Slower is better.

Instead of jumping you, I take a very good look at you. Your big, bright eyes. So full of goodness. There’s not a speck of real evil in those shining pools of love, of generosity.

You are beautiful in a way that is highly uncommon. You have the figure of a barbie, but the glow of an experienced woman, a woman who knows lust, a woman who’s not afraid to give and receive pleasure. In a way it’s common what we are about to do. It’s maybe mundane in the eyes of others, but to me it feels like magic and I thank my lucky stars that am here with you.

We stand and touch for a long time. We are not kissing yet. My fingers crawl slowly along your lips, and you, ever the sensual one, suck one finger in your mouth. My hands drift along your arms, your waspy waist, your face, and there’s this almost tangible vibe around us, almost dictating that we should merge. I see flashbacks of all the outfits you were wearing in that long, long string of moments that I couldn’t touch you. You in a girly shirt and blue yeans. You in a grayish pullover. You in a yellowish dress. The many times you walked away and I was two minutes of stroking -max- away from a wild orgasm just from spending 90 minutes in the same room with you with a big table between us.

I turn you around and wrap my arms around you. My hands cup your breasts, you tilt your head back and we finally kiss. You have the fullest natural lips I have ever tasted. You kiss gently, there is so much love in every of your gestures, you give me a feeling of belonging that must be almost certainly Freudian in nature. I move one hand through your hair, I can finally breathe in your perfume as deeply as I want, am really taking it in.

I take off your dress and it slips off. You only have your underwear now. You turn to me and say, softly, but with firm determination: ‘You too’.

The clothes come off, but just like you I keep my underpants on.

We fall down on the bed, and I kiss you everywhere, except on the parts still covered by textile. I’m tasting you. I want to postpone licking your pussy or kissing your breasts, until you are almost screaming for it. In my mind, playing this evening before me a zillion times, it didn’t occur to me that you also would be active. Your hands are everywhere, touching everywhere, with a tender, but firm pressure that am not used to. I think in my head I still haven’t woken up to the fact that maybe, just maybe, you want to be here with me just as much as I want to be here with you. And your every touch is telling me just that and it almost makes me cry from gratitude. Am now so hungry for you that here and there am practically biting you, not just kissing anymore, and all I want is to make your body my home and my body your home. Am not a religious man, but am basically praying that I will be able to give you everything, to excite all your senses, to make you feel like the most attractive, most appreciated, most desired woman on this planet. I so wish you can feel exactly how intensely I desire you. I’m in physical pain from it, but it’s good pain. I know you will release it, I know you will do anything to calm the storm in me, and right now, I want to savour that pain, enjoy the feeling of anticipation more and focus on you, focus on you first and foremost. Because I know that you being here isn’t something easy, it’s not something you allow to happen, but we are here, and it is happening, and I want you to feel it was all worth it.

That’s why it’s already way past midnight, and we still haven’t moved past foreplay. I am not here for sex, I am here to make love to you.

I slip a finger under your knickers, I run it along the slippery lane between your labia, it’s wamr and wet, and you are pulling my hair and stroking my back and shoulders. I can’t wait much longer, I want to taste you. I unhook your bra and suck your pointy nipples. My hand is still roaming your body, sometimes halting at your pussy, and slowly running my fingertop around your clitoris. At this point you start moaning, softly, and it makes me cramp up with lust for you.

I move down and kiss you all over, everything that makes you a woman, everywhere, tenderly and long.

Soon am pulling down your knickers. They are soft and delicate and colorful just like you are.

I start licking you like you are my first ice-cream and I have grown up in the Arizona desert.

My hands go up and cup your breasts, I grip them and massage them rhythmically.

You are arching your back and pushing against my tongue.

When I think you are close to climaxing you suddenly stop me, turn to your side and tightly squeeze your legs together.

‘I don’t want to have an orgasm this fast’, you say. ‘I want to enjoy penetration fully, I will enjoy it less if I come now. You mind?’

‘No, of course I don’t mind.’

You rise up and pull my underpants down in one swift motion.

You lie down and say, ‘come’.

With the top of my penis I caress your pussy from the outside, kissing your neck, looking deep into each other’s eyes, then I put the tip in, but pull back out, put just the tip in and pull back out, maybe 50 times, until I can feel you can’t open up more wide than you are doing now.

Then I plunge it in, I open you, push the walls of your vagina aside and you take me in. Your heels are pushing in the back of my thighs, pushing me deeper inside you. You are moving so vigorously up and down that I almost don’t need to thrust, you are controlling the movement. ‘This is good, this is good, oh, my God, this is good’, you whisper and I could just eat you right now.

I push myself up on my hands and now I start thrusting much harder. Leaning on one arm I move my other hand down and put my thumb on your clitoris and hold it there. Because you are moving you are rubbing your clit against my thumb, two minutes of that, maybe less, and I see your breath get much more intense, inhaling and exhaling very deeply, and I see you shake towards an orgasm with quick jerks of your head. You look majestic.

I stop for a while as you seem somewhere between death and life, but you turn your head back to me and say: ‘Come, come, shoot me full, I want to feel it shoot inside me.’

It doesn’t take me long to fill your request. My hands dig under your back and I am squeezing your tiny, slim body against me, draining myself in you, feeling the cramp fade away, am kissing you almost violently now, and for a second I think I might be hurting you.

We lie locked in each other until my penis becomes flacid and drops out on its own.

We take a break then, and lie on our side, facing each other and talking. We talk about everything I’ve witnessed and experienced in therapy, my weird childhood, my crazy student days, your teenage years, of which you have kept the body, but have surmounted the spirit.

After maybe two hours of talking we start touching more again, and our engines get fired up again. This time we are much wilder. We’ve come close to each other now, and our inhibitions go straight out the window and drop into the Danube with a releaving plunge.

I carry you in my arms, standing up, and you ride my dick, which, we discover, is a good position to make you come fast. We do it doggy style, sometimes you moving back and forth and controlling the speed of the thrusting, sometimes me. We sit on a chair. You lie flat on your belly with me on top of you. You put your legs on my shoulders. I fuck you from behind while you are lying on a big balls of pillows and blankets. We stand faced to the window overviewing the Danube, athletically letting your head hang down with your hands almost touching your feet. We lose track of how many times we come. The whole room smells of us. And when we are finally exhausted we are still touching, keeping each other warm, wrapping ourselves up in the blankets. We talk till we drift off to sleep. When we wake up we are still holding hands. I put a kiss on your irresistible nose. All the colors are brighter, I smell you, breathe in deeply to lodge you inside me. I lick you to one orgasm and you give me a slow blowjob to wake up. We shower and go for breakfast. The rest of the day we spent at a Christmas market, somehow attracting funny strangers to have interesting conversations with, and running around hand in hand, like two smitten children on the playground, with not a care in the world.


Defini comme langue par défaut

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thong leotard ballbusting dancer workout she kneed him in the groin

Update: 19.04.2019

B-568 "The dance room brawl"

Gallery size: 260 Full HD pictures

Freestyle mixed fighting, 260 pictures 1920x1080 (FullHD), no nudity, no blood.

Tom entered the room and flicked on the lights. The newly illuminated grey floor was reflected in the mirror, creating a generally drab atmosphere. He dropped his bag, went over to a pole, and started stretching. He wore a tank top and basketball shorts. He was prepared to work for hours.

After a few minutes, before Tom had completely finished warming up, Rachel entered the room. She wore a purple spandex tank leotard. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. Normally she wore glasses, today it was contacts. She was going to be dancing for a while and she didn't want to bother with it.

She had already gotten a leg up on the bar when she noticed Tom, and he her. They went still. "What are you doing here?" Tom asked.

"Practicing. I have a big final Thursday. What are you doing here?"

"Choreographing. I have a presentation on Wednesday. Look, I reserved the space."

"No, I did. Online. There's nothing available any other time this week, I need this room."

They looked at each other for a moment. He cleared his throat. "So do I. This grade is important. I 100% officially booked this space. I don't know what website you used. And besides... I got here first."

They looked at each other for a long time, neither willing to yield. Finals were serious in the dance school, and dance space was rare.

"Okay, I'll tell you what," she said, "I'll fight you for the room. One submission. Winner takes it, loser leaves." Tom was taken aback by the proposition. Both dancers were, out of necessity, in respectable physical condition. Both also had training in the fundamentals of combat, as required by the major.

She looked tough enough, and was certainly in shape, but he was bigger, and at least a foot taller. Still, if she was confident enough to challenge him to a fight, she must have had a reason. He contemplated her proposition. He thought about a coin-flip, but couldn't leave the room to chance; it was his. And it'd been awhile since he'd practiced this kind of motion; time to dust off.

"Fine." He said.

"Clean fight," she asserted, "punches and kicks allowed."

"Deal," he said, and took a step to the side, beginning to circle. She slunk to her side as well, and they circled one another on the dance room floor.

He looked focused and ready, a potential challenge, but she was confident. "If you want to save the trouble, you can just leave now" she offered.

"No way, I'm keeping this room. Just hope you'll be able to take your final after this."

Tom, feeling rather confident, slipped his hand around her waist and began caressing her ass. She looked into Tom's eyes, smiled seductively and brought her knee up hard into Tom's unsuspecting balls. Tom doubled over while his hands instinctively found their way to his groin a rather high-pitched squeal passed his lips. The dancer threw her head back and laughed.

She lunged forward and aimed a punch for his jaw, but he quickly leaned out of the way. She used her momentum to drop to the floor and swipe with her leg, knocking his feet out from underneath him. He landed on his back with a thud. She sprung on top of him and attempted to pin his arms back, but he pushed her off of him and quickly got back on his feet. She rose too, plunging a fist into his stomach. He tightened his muscles to lessen the impact, but still stumbled backward. She directed another shot at his jaw, but he caught it and darted behind her, twisting her arm to her back.

He's good, she thought, taking a jab at his stomach with her elbow. Her angle wasn't ideal, and she hit with little momentum. She kicked backwards, making contact with his thigh and sending him down most of the way to his knee. She wrenched her arm free and socked him across the face, temporarily dazing him.

She grabbed the neck of his tank top and kicked hard at his chest, sending him backwards with a rip. He tore through his shirt as he fell to the floor, leaving it hanging from her hand and revealing his dancer's upper body. She smirked slightly.

He felt the blood rushing to his face. Anger, with a bit of embarrassment. "Seriously?"

"Ooops," she replied, tossing his shirt to the side. She glanced him up & down. "Not bad, really. Shame you're going to be all black and blue by the time we're done here."

"I'm not the one who has to worry about that," he grunted as he leapt to his feet. He ran at her, she threw a punch, he blocked it. He countered with a punch to the face, which she took with only a moment's pause. This was long enough for him to grab her shoulder and queue up another punch, but not for him to throw it. In a swift motion she knocked his hand off her shoulder, grabbed his shoulder in return, and pulled him close to her, sinking her knee into his gut.

He doubled over, but followed through with it, charging into her and bringing them both to the floor.

He had gotten the last hit in, but she knew that knee had been a doozy. She saw this as her chance to take control. The wind had been knocked out of him, and he knew he was in trouble. He couldn't slow down, or things would go south real quick. He lunged at her, grabbing her neck. She kicked him in the chest and he let go. She aimed another kick, but he caught it and pulled her towards him. He punched her in the face. To her, the fist seemed to come out of nowhere. Ouch, she thought. As she turned her head back, he punched again. He knew he had to keep these coming. He focused another punch, but before he could fire she locked both arms with him. She refused to let him take the advantage.

They pushed against each other, grappling low down on the floor. He was trying to force her under him, and he was succeeding inch by inch, but she was stronger than he had estimated. She twisted his arms outward, sending shots of pain up his spine, but he kept pushing down. She managed to stop his momentum and, seizing the opportunity, delivered a head-butt. She wasn't an expert, but it worked well. He was stunned. She slipped behind him and wrapped her legs around his neck in a scissor hold, pulling him to his back.

She clenched hard, and Tom instantly felt panic. He sunk his fingers between her legs and tried to pull them apart, but they were too strong. He could barely take in air, and he was beginning to feel the short supply. He pushed with his feet, still holding on to her legs, and they slid a few inches across the floor, but the hold remained. He tried to roll over, but it was no use. She placed her hand under his chin and pulled towards her chest, increasing the force of the hold. She looked down at his face. They were both sweaty, but he was looking far worse for wear. She had him right where she wanted him.

A vein bulged in his forehead. He gasped, but nothing came to his lungs. He kept prying at her legs, but his arms were getting weaker.

He began to grow dizzy, and realized he'd have to tap-out soon or he'd be out of commission. He slipped a hand off of her thigh, but before he could smack the floor, he felt her grip slacken.

He looked up as best as he could with his eyes, but he couldn't see anything.

She opened her legs, placed a foot on his shoulder, and pushed him away. She wasn't finished just yet. She wanted a little more.

He didn't know why she had let him go, but he knew this was his last chance to stay in this thing. He needed to be smart, and he couldn't afford mistakes. He was still dizzy, but he took in deep breaths, calming himself, as he rose shakily to his feet. He took a few steps back.

She rose as well, cracking her knuckles. He swallowed just a little.

She knew she'd worked a number on him and that, if she played her cards right, she could take the fight. But he was pretty quick; she wasn't ready to relax just yet.

He took another step back and they started circling each other again, fists raised. She took a step forward, he a step back. They circled. She threw a punch, and he tried to step out of the way, but it connected. Knowing he had to retaliate quickly he punched back, but she dodged it, sending another one into his jaw. He was dizzier now. She threw another, dizzier still. He swiped out blindly at her but she ducked under his arm. She punched him again. He staggered backwards. She punched him one. Two. Three times. He was stumbling in place now.

Clinging to hope, he threw one last clumsy punch, which she easily sidestepped before pounding him across the face. CRACK! He was seeing stars. He could barely stand, let alone tell left from right. He could only just make out Rachel's figure, blurry, in front of him.

He was finished. He didn't have any energy or sense left to fight with. She was in full control now.

She watched him as he wobbled to stay upright. A small, amused grin cracked her lips. She could have admired her handiwork for a while, but she had dancing to do.

With a quick kick she collapsed his legs and he was on his knees. Taking her time, she walked behind him and stepped down on one of his shins, pinning it to the ground. She twisted his left arm behind his back and wrapped her right arm around his neck.

By the time Tom realized what was happening, it was already too late. He placed his free hand on her forearm and tried to pull, but her grip wouldn't budge. She tightened her hold. Tom gasped for oxygen. He stopped pulling and started tapping, slapping frantically on her hard arm.

He spluttered "I... give up"

He could see his wide eyes popping wider in the dance mirror. They darted to meet hers. She stared at his reflection calmly, smugly. "Hm?" she asked, "what was that?"

He choked the words out again, "I GIVE UP!"

"Oh? You want to yield the dance room to me?"

No breath left to speak, he nodded vigorously.

"And you're sorry you wasted my time?"

Even more vigorously.

She chuckled softly, satisfied with his newly submissive attitude.

"Well, it's a bit too late for that. But I'll take the room all the same."

His eyes, though it was seemingly impossible, grew even wider. He bucked and pulled, using his last ounce of strength. She held firm, marveling at his helplessness, thrilled to own his last moments of consciousness.

His struggles slowed, weakened.

Finally, he went limp.

Exhaling, she let his body slip through her grip and crumple on the floor. She breathed heavily, her body glistening with sweat. She looked down at his lifeless form. It had not been an easy fight. Not at first, anyway. But there he was. She imagined his shirt wasn't the only thing she'd stripped him of that day.

She turned him over with her foot, so that he was lying flat on his back, before placing it on his bare chest. She rested her hands on her hips. She knew nobody was watching, but the victory pose felt good nonetheless. "Well," she said, "let's hope you dance better."

When Tom awoke, he was in a dumpster. Stripped to his underwear with tape securing his ankles, his wrists behind his back, and a pair of gym socks in his mouth.

Rachel practiced for 4 hours. And on Thursday she got an A.


by Ziel

 Russel is feeling embarrassingly puny his first day trying to work out at the gym, but with a little determination, a few simple exercises, and his friend’s gag gift—a “Loading muscles…” workout tank and an “Enhance” brand jock strap to go with it—things start to turn around pretty rapidly.

Added: Feb 2019 7,139 words 18,995 views 4.6 stars (20 votes)

Russel had never felt more out of place. He was a shrimp in a hall of ripped muscle gods. It seemed like everyone at this gym had been going regularly for years, and here he was entering a gym for the first time since P.E. class in middle school. It didn’t help that his work out shirt was comically huge on him. Russel was half tempted to go home and change… or maybe just go home altogether, but he had promised his pal he would at least try to start a gym regimen.

In many ways it was only because of Russel’s friend that he was even here today. Russel had long said he was going to start working out. He had always dreamed of having a big, buff body like he saw in the magazines, but he just never seemed to put on any muscle when he tried lifting weights at home. He doubted even having access to professional lifting equipment would help his case at all either, but Russel’s pal, Kurt, was insistent he at least try. Kurt even went so far as to give Russel a new set of workout clothes, a shirt and jockstrap, for Christmas to help him kick off his fitness journey, and it was that outfit that Russel was wearing to the gym this very afternoon.

The shirt was a seemingly standard muscle shirt with the caption “Loading Muscles…” on the front as well as a comical loading bar underneath the text. The loading bar was actually completely empty which seemed almost like a cruel joke to the poor, puny Russel. To make matters worse, the shirt was so huge that it hung loosely off of Russel’s wimpy frame. Russel still wasn’t sure if he was wearing it because it was a gift from a cherished friend, or because he was just too cheap to buy something for himself, or even if he was just motivated by sheer spite, but that hardly seemed to matter at this point. His oversized shirt just made him feel even punier than ever, and his shirt wasn’t the only spacious part of his attire. His jockstrap was a little extra roomy around the Netherlands as well. Russel’s painfully average cock just wasn’t up to the task of filling the ample pouch of the “Enhance” brand strap. Fortunately, he had an old pair of jogging shorts on over top of his jock, so nobody else had to know about his shortcomings in that department.

Figuring that even the longest journey begins with a few steps, Russel made his way over to the treadmill. He might not know much about lifting weights, but he did at least know how to jog so the treadmill seemed as good a place as any to get the ball rolling. Russel quickly settled into a routine of jogging along at a reasonable pace while scrolling through a beginner’s guide to working out on his phone. It was strange. He expected to get winded pretty easily since he had never been the most athletic dude, but the more he jogged, the more energized he felt. He felt like he could run nonstop for days! But before he even realized the timer on the treadmill dinged to alert him that he had done a respectable warm-up. Russel hopped off the treadmill and decided to put the newbie guide to weightlifting he had been perusing to good use and made his way towards the weight room.

The weight room had tons of mirrored walls all around the place. Try as he might, Russel couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of his own reflection. When he saw himself, he did a double take. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something seemed different. He wasn’t what he would call fit by any stretch of the imagination, but he was looking healthier than when he had walked in. He chalked it up to the rush of endorphins from the jog and the slight sheen of sweat which had settled onto his skin, but there was something else afoot that he had not yet begun to realize. Russel quickly adjusted his oversized shirt and went back to focusing on his next workout, completely missing the fact that the loading bar on his shirt now had an almost imperceptibly small bit of blue filling the otherwise empty loading bar.

The first exercise on his to-do list was a few simple bicep curls. Russel figured he’s be ahead to start light and grabbed one of the smallest set of dumbbells he could find, but after a few experimental curls he quickly realized that five pounds was far, far too light. He quickly moved up to ten and then fifteen pounds and found that those were too light as well. He was surprised to say the least. The guide he was reading didn’t suggest going above fifteen pounds for a lightweight beginner like himself, but here he was hefting a thirty pounder like it was nothing. Perhaps even more surprising was the bulge of a bicep the poked out when he reached the highest point of his curls.

Russel was amazed by what he saw. It was a muscle! He had an actual muscle! It was small, sure, but everyone had to start somewhere, and the fact that he actually had some sort of muscle definition to show off on his first day at the gym was beyond a miracle. Perhaps he had not given himself enough credit. He tended to carry a few heavy books around campus. Maybe his nerdery was good for something after all.

Russel was not about to rest on his laurels just yet though. If anything, this newfound discovery spurred him on to work out even more. If just a few bicep curls could bring out his latent muscles, just imagine what a regular routine could do! He could be buffed like those babes on the cover of Men’s Health in no time!

After what he assumed to be a suitable amount of reps, Russel put up his barbells and made his way towards the bench press station, completely unaware that his loading bar had gained a few more pixels in the past few minutes.

Russel loaded the bar on the weight rack with what he thought would be a safe and easy starter weight, and laid down to do a few reps. To his surprise, the bar was incredibly light! He wasted no time in adding more weight to it and trying another few reps. Again, the bar was too light. Before he knew it, he had doubled and then tripled the starting weight before he began to feel even a little strain from lifting. He was so amazed by the amount of weight he was benching that he almost didn’t notice the bulges forming in front of him… almost…

Russel’s jaw dropped when he caught sight of the mounds in front of him. From where he was lying he had a front row view of his own chest and could see two very clearly defined pectoral muscles. He had pecs! Sure, they weren’t he hugest pecs he had ever seen. They would even be classified as fairly small by most of the muscleheads at the gym, but they were there, and they were his! He couldn’t believe his eyes. He quickly got up from the bench and turned to check himself out in one of the mirrors on the wall. There was no denying what he was seeing. He was cut! He wasn’t bulky by any stretch of the imagination, but he had some honest-to-god muscles on his body. He had a lean, lithe, swimmer’s build. Russel could barely fathom what he was seeing. He had gained a noticeable amount of muscle since he had arrived, but how!? As if to answer his question something caught his eye. A slight movement down below…

Russel glanced down at the reflection of his shirt, and for the first time he noticed the additional blue on the loading bar. “Loading Muscles…” indeed, and from the look of things, he had a long way left to go! The loading bar had barely even begun to fill in. If he was this cut with just a little bit of bulking, he could hardly imagine how huge he’d be when he was done! The sheer thought of it sent a shiver of excitement up his spine and surge of excitement down his groin. Russel quickly adjusted himself down there. His chubby was feeling particularly cramped in the confines of his running shorts, but he paid it no mind. He was far too enthralled by his muscles to worry about a little thing like that.

Russel couldn’t wait for more muscles to stack on. His mind was racing with ideas of just how huge he’d grow and how to speed up the process. Was there some sort of catalyst besides the shirt? Did pumping the old irons cause him to bulk up faster? He didn’t know for sure, but he knew there was no harm in trying. If nothing else the rush of endorphins and the pump that came with a good rep was starting to go to his head. He couldn’t wait to really test the limits of what his body was capable of.

Russel glanced around the gym for the next station he would try out. There were so many options. He was like a kid in a candy store. Eventually his eyes fell upon the simple, unassuming bar attached to the far wall. A pull up bar. Such a simple device, and yet so full of promise. Russel had never in his life successfully performed a pull up. He was shaking with anticipation as he placed his hands on the bar, and then with the greatest of ease he pulled himself up so that his chin was over the bar. It felt so effortless that he might as well have been picking up a tissue. He could scarcely believe that the pull up bar had been the bane of his middle school existence. He remembered struggling and straining for half an hour to accomplish even a single chin up, but now he was effortlessly doing a chin up and beyond. He could pull himself all the way up until the bar hit his chest. Russel was so caught up in the rush that he did another pull up and another and another. He was a well-oiled pull up machine. He kept going up and down like a pistol, completely unaware of how his body was changing. His muscles were thickening all around him, and weight was packing on elsewhere as well. By the time the rush finally died down and he dropped down from the push up bar, he was feeling something very strange indeed. It was tough for him to put his finger on it at first. It was a strange pressure around his legs and groin, but all it took was a look in the mirror to put two and two together. His shorts were getting incredibly tight on his bulking frame!

Russel was amazed at what he saw. During his brief stint on the pull up bar he had gone from twink to twunk! He went from a lean, cut, swimmer’s build to having a thick body that would grace the cover of a fitness magazine. He had quads that would amaze a quarterback! His formerly airy running shorts now dug into his thick thighs, but it wasn’t just his muscles that were filling his briefs to the brim. It was plain to see that his dick had grown as well. Russel could only stand and stare in awe at the outline of his own cock and balls that now pressed so hard against the front of his shorts that he could see the very shape and size of them. He could scarcely believe that thick set of sausage and eggs was his! He had a schlong that had to be closing in on a foot long and every bit as thick as his wrist and a pair of softball sized stones to match! It was hard to believe that just mere moments ago he had had trouble filling out his jock strap. Now he looked like he’d be spilling out in the very near future.

Russel couldn’t wait to work out more and grow even larger. He already had the body of his dreams, but still, he wanted to be even bigger, and if the loading bar was any indication he had a ways to go yet. Russel didn’t want to waste any time moving onto the next exercise and getting any bigger. He turned and set up shop at the very next station his eyes fell upon—the pull downs.

Russel sat down on the seat and glanced up at the bar above his head. Despite how swole he was looking, he was still pretty much a newbie when it came to working out so he was glad to see that there were guide marks on the bar telling him where to place his hands for ideal results. Russel wasted no time getting to work. He placed his hands where the marks said to and began to pull down on the bar until his hands were even with his thick pecs. He was amazed how easily the bar came down. He hadn’t even bothered changing the weights on it before he began working out, and the guy who had been using this station before him was one of the biggest bros at the gym! Russel could now hit the weights with the best of them and then some! And at the rate things were going he was soon going to dwarf even the biggest musclehead the gym had ever seen. Just imagining what it would be like to be so huge got his huge cock to stir to life in his undersized shorts. His semi was straining hard against the fabric of his too-tiny running shorts. He could already tell that one way or the other something was going to have to give. His shorts were reaching their breaking point in more ways than one, and as he pulled down on the bar over and over again he could actually feel himself getting bigger and thicker by the moment. He could actually hear the sound of his shorts straining against his thickening brawn. The sound of straining fabric just spurred him on to work even harder and reach new amazing sizes. He couldn’t wait to see what he would look like when he finally filled the loading bar.

Russel was so fixated on his pull downs and his shorts that he hadn’t even noticed what was going on with his shirt. By the time he finished his reps on the pull-down station and returned once more to the mirrors to check his progress he was in for quite a shock. His once far-too-huge shirt was now looking a few sizes too small. The fabric of his muscle shirt strained across his thick pecs and his sculpted abs. The straps of the shirt now rested firmly in the groove between the thick mounds of his delts around his neck and the bulging mass of his traps around his shoulders, but perhaps what was even more amazing was how much his thick lats spilled out the sides of his open-sided muscle shirt. His wings had grown so thick that they would have shredded clean through the sides of his shirt had his shirt not already been open on the sides to accommodate it, but as amazing as his torso had become, it was hard for him to keep his eyes off the improvements below the belt.

Russel’s cock was beyond huge at this point. He put even the most ridiculously hung porn star to shame. His dick was looking more like a third leg which each passing moment. His junk was so massive that it didn’t even fit in his shorts anymore. His package rested on the fabric of his shorts as if using them as a hammock instead of actually fitting inside his shorts. Only the tip of his melon-sized cock head actually fit inside his shorts, and his basketball sized stones were even less contained. With how huge his dick had become it was a miracle that any of it could fit in his shorts, and that was saying nothing of his jock strap. His strap had been a bit roomier than his shorts to begin with, but it was still a miracle that it held his bait and tackle in place as well as they did. The red fabric of the front pouch of his jock strap was so strained that it had taken on a sheer, pink texture. The color of his cock and ball flesh was starting to show through.

Russel didn’t waste too much time ogling his new size in the mirror. If the loading bar on his shirt was any indication, he still had plenty more growing to do. He was already larger than the biggest bodybuilder in the gym, and he was still just shy of the 50% mark on his loading bar.

Russel next made his way over to the squat rack to do some squats. He loaded the bar down with every weighted plate he could get his hands on. The bar was so heavily loaded by the time that he was done that the metal bar actually started to bend and warp under the sheer weight of the plates. Russel figured that that would be a good enough starting point and proceeded to load the bar onto his shoulders and squat down low. He made it halfway through the first squat when a loud, rending sound split the air. His over-stuffed pants had reached their limit and then some. His body was already too big for his britches, but bending down was the final nail in the coffin. His shorts split open clean down the back leaving his big, beefy ass exposed to ass to see. Russel quickly stood back up and set the weight bar back on the rack. The sheer weight of the bar caused the entire gym to rumble. Russel glanced at his reflection once again in the mirror and realized that his shorts were beyond ruined. They were doing more harm than good at this point, and it’s not like he was ever going to fit into them again, so he reached down and unceremoniously ripped them clean off. The waistband snapped with ease leaving him clad in just his shirt, his strap, and his sneakers. With his shorts no longer interfering, Russel once again set to work on his squats. He once again shouldered the weighted bar and squatted down low. He was amazed at how light the bar felt. He had apparently packed on even more muscles during even just the short interlude. The lightness didn’t bother him though. If anything, it spurred him on to work out even harder to grow even larger. He squatted down low and stood back up over and over again while eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He was enamored with how his muscles flexed and rippled with each rep, but there was something else that caught his eye too. With each squat, his hefty nuts came ever closer to touching the floor, and it wasn’t because he was squatting lower. He could actually see his cock and balls getting bigger with each rep! He soon reached the point where he squatted down low and his nuts touched the floor, but he didn’t stop there. He went again and again, squatting down and standing up, and each time he watched as his nuts reached the floor sooner and sooner in each rep. He soon reached a point where his beachball sized nuts were so massive that they reached the floor halfway through his squats and sat there as he finished his motion.

Russel was amazed that his strap had held on so long. The fabric was so strained that it had become nearly see-through. Rips and tears had spread through the fabric giving large, uninhibited glimpses as the bare cock and ball flesh tucked away beneath. By the time Russel had finally had his fill of the squat rack, his jockstrap had more than had its fill of his cock and balls! The fabric of the front pouch split wide open, causing his cock and balls to spill out. Russel stared in awe as his dangly bits spilled forth. He had known his junk was huge, but the pouch had hidden just how huge they really were! His beachball sized nuts dangled down to his shins, and the head of his cock rested solidly on the ground at his feet. He had more than a third leg! His cock was not only longer but thicker than his impressively thick thighs as well. His dick nearly rivaled his thick, sculpted midriff for sheer girth!

Russel placed the bar back on the rack one final time and took another moment to admire how huge he had become. His torso was so burly that his muscle shirt was having trouble adjusting. The front of the shirt had become nearly completely swallowed by the dense chasm between his massive, meaty pecs. Only the loading bar, which was now stretched taut across his top row of abs, could be seen. Russel smirked at his progress. He was already so massive, and yet he was barely 60% done? He couldn’t wait to see how much larger he would become.

Russel grabbed a pair of the largest dumbbells he could find and took a seat at one of the benches near the free weights. The bench groaned under his massive, muscular bulk, but held its ground. Russel glanced down and smirked at his bare cock and balls which now rested solidly on the ground at his feet before he hoisted the pair of dumbbells up over his shoulders and began to lift them above his head. He quickly settled into a routine of lifting the dumbbells up over his head and then bringing them back down to around his shoulders, but there was something slightly off. He was getting so massive now that his muscles were getting in the way! The bulge of his traps around his shoulders made it hard for him to raise his arms straight up, and the bulge of his delts around his neck was so thick that the dumbbell kept bumping into it when he returned his arms to the low position. Eventually his traps got so huge that the his could only lift his arm to a 45-degree angle. He figured by that point that it was time to move onto a new exercise.

When Russel stood up to move onto the next exercise he was in for a shock… two shocks, actually. First of all, his lats had grown so much during his brief stint doing shoulder presses that he couldn’t even lower his arms all the way! He lowered his arms as low as they would go, and he looked like he should be saying “Welcome to Chili’s”, but the lack of mobility didn’t bother him. If anything, it got him even more worked up. His already semi-boned cock got even harder than before, which brought his attention to the second thing which shocked him.

His cock had grown even more! He had sort of assumed that once he had lost the pouch of his jockstrap the growth would stop. After all, his jock strap was now less of a strap and more of a belt that barely wrapped around his swelling hips, but the Enhance brand strap hadn’t stopped enhancing his junk! Even now that he was standing straight up, his nuts rested heavily on the floor at his feet, and his semi-boned cock jutted a few feet out in front of him. He could scarcely believe his eyes. His semi was as thick as his midriff, bulging obliques and all!

Even as awed by his own body as he was, Russel couldn’t help but notice how eerily quiet the gym had become. For the first time since he had started growing he looked around the room at the others who occupied the gym with him. All eyes were glued to him and his massive muscles and cock. There were a wide range of emotions displayed in those eyes. Jealousy. Wonder… Lust. Just seeing how hot and bothered the other gym-goers were got Russel even more worked up than before. His semi soon reached rock hard status and then some. His massive cock was so hard it was dribbling pre onto the rubberized floor of the gym weight room.

Russel was already so massive that it was getting tough to move, but he couldn’t quit now—not when he was so close to maxing out his download bar, and definitely not when he had such an eager audience to please. The question was, what to do next? He had already gone through every exercise on his list, and he doubted he could even fit on most of the gym stations. That was when an idea popped into his head. At his size, he didn’t need gym stations. He was his own station. All he needed was himself and the two barbells he still had in his hands.

All eyes were on him as he moved his massive, nearly-nude form into position. He leaned forward so that his enormous cock was resting on the ground in front of him and then laid down directly on top of it. His dick was so massive that while straddling it as he currently was, his feet could barely reach the ground below him and the tip of his dick reached so far forward that his chin rested comfortably on the puffy glans. Once he was happily in position, Russel set to work on his next exercise. He dropped his hands as low as they could go until he was nearly hugging his fat cock and then raised his arms back up until his arms were spread wide by his sides. The murmur of approval from the crowd made it clear they were enjoying the show. Russel could only imagine what they must be seeing though. With his body as exposed as it currently was, there was no doubt his enormous muscles were rippling with each motion, but that wasn’t all. Russel could feel his cock getting thicker between his legs. He could feel the head of his dick poking further and further forward with each fly he completed, and that was saying nothing of his nuts and muscles. He couldn’t see his nuts to check on them, and he had no way of checking his loading bar either. He just had to trust the invigorating rush that was flowing through him to prove that he was still getting larger and larger. Soon Russel reached a point where his chin no longer rested on the spongy head of his cock. His dick had grown so massive that the tip of it poked out past his own head by several inches, and yet it was still growing.

As Russel continued his reps he became aware of something interesting. It was getting tougher and tougher to complete a fly. His arms just wouldn’t go all the way back down. At first, he chalked it up to just his cock getting too fat for him to wrap his arms around, but he eventually began to realize that there was something else at work. Part of him wanted to continue his reps, but the curiosity was getting the better of him. He had to see with his own eyes and verify his suspicions. He awkwardly propped himself up and hopped off of his own cock and turned to stare into his own reflection. Sure enough, it was just as he had suspected. His pecs were now so massive that they impeded his ability to bring his arms together.

Russel couldn’t believe how massive he had become. He couldn’t believe that he had been a stick when he had walked into the gym this afternoon. Now he was easily five times wider than he had been before. His broad shoulders were so wide he wouldn’t be able to get through a normal doorway without shifting his weight around, and that was saying nothing of his cock which was every bit as thick as his broad, barrel chest, and then there were his nuts which were each about as large as a Lay-Z-Boy recliner. His pecs were the size of mattresses. His individual abs were so huge that each one bulged out like basketballs. His biceps alone were bigger than his whole head, and his quads were as thick as oak trees! And yet, as massive as he was, he could still see himself steadily creeping up in size.

Russel knew he had to be reaching the end of his growth. He was already so massive that he was having trouble moving, and yet he didn’t want it to end just yet. Unfortunately, he couldn’t read the loading bar on his shirt. His shirt had been completely swallowed by his pecs. He awkwardly fumbled as best he could with the fabric and tried to pull his shirt out from underneath his pecs so he could read the loading bar, and to his surprise, when he finally did get a chance to read it, the bar was nearly complete! This was about as big as he would get? On one hand he was glad he wouldn’t grow to immobility, but on the other hand, the rush of getting larger and larger was too great to be ignored. Part of him wanted to keep going. Part of him wanted to get even larger than before. He didn’t care if he outgrew the whole gym!

A telltale ding came from his shirt to alert him that the download had been completed. For better or worse, this was his new size. Russel wasn’t too bummed out about it though. He was bigger than he ever dreamed possible. He couldn’t wait to show his new bulk to all his friends on campus, but first things first… he needed to rinse off some of the funk from the powerlifting he had done. He put up the barbells and made his way towards the locker rooms for a quick shower.

Russel stopped off by his locker briefly to put up his clothes. He had to pull and tug at his shirt to get it unstuck from between his massive muscles, and when he finally did remove it he had to chuckle at what had become of it. The shirt was so badly stretched out that it looked more like a series of spaghetti straps than an actual shirt. Next came the jockstrap, or what was left of it anyway. That part came off much easier than the shirt. All he had to do was shimmy it down across his thick thighs and then step out of them. With that off, all that was left was to kick off his shoes, which he did with ease.

It was strange. He had been pretty much bare-assed naked for half of his gym set, but somehow shedding the last few tatters of his clothes left him feeling awkward and exposed. He never was the most outgoing guy, and he had always been afraid of showering in public like this. He had to remind himself that he was no longer a little shrimp with something to hide. He was massive! He had the muscles of a god and the cock of a whale! He had nothing to hide anymore. It didn’t take long for him to psyche himself up and make his way towards the showers.

He was not too surprised to find that he was too large to fit into any of the stalls. He was so huge that he couldn’t even get just his dick into one of them! Still, he wasn’t so quick to be discouraged. There was a showerhead on the side of the wall that was out in the open. It was obviously designed for those who were going to hit the pool and just needed to hose off real quick while still in their suits, but it worked just fine for Russel’s purposes. He shimmied his bulk towards the showerhead, turned the knob, and then did his best to soak up underneath the flow, but he was so massive he could only get small parts of him wet at a time, and that was saying nothing of lathering up. There was no way he could reach his arms around his cock to wash it, and his backside was even harder to reach! Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about what to do for long. He soon felt the warm touch of a wet washrag against his bare skin.

Russel glanced over to see one of his admirers from the gym had made the journey into the showers with him. It was hard to believe how tiny the guy looked. He was without a doubt one of the burliest bros Russel had ever seen before, but even this guy looked puny next to Russel’s new mass.

Russel didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to thank the guy for stepping in to help out, but at the same time he felt kind of weird having someone rubbing him down like this. Fortunately, the new arrival didn’t seem to be too keen on conversation. His eyes were glued to Russel’s enormous pecs. The guy ran the soapy cloth across Russel’s massive pectoral muscle and sensually stroked the thick mass of brawn. Russel’s pecs were so massive that the guy couldn’t even reach all the way across to wash both pecs. The best he could do was focus on the one closer to him. He’d have to walk around to the other side if he wanted to have any hope of washing Russel’s another pec, but for the time being he was content just to wash half of Russel’s front.

The suds cascaded down Russel’s pecs and coursed through the deep trenches of his sculpted cum-gutters before reaching his crotch and dripping off his cock and down his immense nuts before splattering onto the tiled floor below, but soapy water wasn’t all that was splattering onto the floor. Russel was trying to keep a level head as he focused on soaping up the parts of his body he could actually reach, but the sensual rubbing from his new friend was getting him even more hot and bothered than he already was. His rock-hard cock was drooling pre so fast that it rivaled the showerhead for sheer output. Pre oozed out from the tip of his supersized cock head and down onto the floor, and things were only going to get even steamier in the showers. Another set of hands soon found their way towards Russel’s enormous body. This time the hands fixated on his backside, and Russel could only assume that the owner of said hands was just as enrapt as the Russel’s first helper. Try as he might though, Russel could not catch a glimpse of the guy behind him. He just couldn’t turn around enough to look behind him, but he was fine with letting his new helper remain anonymous. The mystique just added to his arousal. Russel soon found himself so hot and bothered that his cock was shuddering with joy as the new arrival soaped down his backside. By the time the newcomer had reached down low enough to start massaging Russel’s massive ass, Russel was so close to cumming that he had to try his hardest to tune out the sensations that were overcoming his senses.

Having two helpers was almost more than Russel could take, but soon he had yet another newcomer working over his enormous mass. This guy didn’t seem interested in Russel’s muscles though. Russel could only watch in awe as another cute gym jock strode towards him. Even before this newcomer began soaping down a part of Russel’s enormous brawn, Russel knew exactly where he was going to focus his efforts. The guy’s gaze never left Russel’s enormous cock even for a second. The look in his eyes was even hornier than Russel felt! Russel half expected the guy to start washing his cock with his tongue, but instead the guy soon joined in the other two helpers in lathering up Russel’s body with a washcloth and soap. Russel stared in hormone addled awe as the guy stared down Russel’s enormous cock head, a cock head which eclipsed the dude’s entire torso! The guy silently went about his business as he soaped up and stroked down the spongy tip of Russel’s cock. Just feeling how tiny the dude’s hands felt against his cock drove Russel even crazier than before, and the feeling of the dude’s hands sliding under his foreskin to stroke around the fringes of swollen cock head. Russel almost came right then and there. It was only by sheer force of will that he kept himself from dousing the new arrival in a torrential spurt of spunk. Although, judging by the devious glint in the guy’s eyes, Russel wouldn’t doubt that the dude was hoping for just such a shower.

Russel’s mind was almost as foggy as the steamy showers as the three guys works over their respective portions of Russel’s colossal body. Guy A had shifted sides and was now working over Russel’s other pec and the other half of his abs and occasionally even dropping a hand low enough to caress Russel’s inner thigh—the guy’s hand wedged tightly between Russel’s thick quads and enormous cock and ball sack as he did so. Guy B had gotten more adventuresome in his worship and cleansing of Russel’s backside and was now giving Russel’s meaty ass a washing he would never forget. Russel was a very hygienic guy, but even had never spent so much time scrubbing the crevasse between his butt cheeks before. Russel was sure he had even felt a tongue in there amidst the lathers and strokes of the washcloth. Meanwhile, Guy C had gotten even more hands on than he was before. He had climbed onto Russel’s cock as if it was a roadhouse mechanical bull. The guy used his entire, soap-covered body to rub and lather Russel’s cock which dwarfed the dude in terms of sheer girth. Even in terms of length, Russel’s dick had a few inches on the guy’s whole body.

It was all too much for Russel to take. Dude A stroking his muscles so tenderly, Dude B massaging his ass, balls, and taint so fervently, Dude C gyrating and grinding his whole body against Russel’s cock so erotically, it all worked together to send him over the edge. Russel tried to hold back, but all he managed to do was forestall the coming torrent long enough to let out a loud, low groan. His moan echoed through the misty showers, and then cum erupted from his colossal cock. Russel was so lost in the ecstasy of his own colossal climax that he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening around him. For all he knew everything faded away into the fog of the steamy showers, but he wasn’t the only one in the throes of orgasm. His three attendants had cum as well. Each one without so much as laying a hand on their own cocks. The group came and came again and again, but the trio of attendant’s loads seemed inconsequential next to the flood of spunk that erupted from Russel’s gigantic cock. After a mere two spurts, there was a standing pool of spunk up to Russel’s ankles, and he was nowhere near done draining his nuts. By the time he was finally spent, the thick layer of spooge had seeped out of the showers, into the locker room, and even out into the gym lobby.

The four guys slumped down in an exhausted, post-coital haze and basked in the afterglow and the warm sprinkle from the showerhead. Eventually, Russel’s attendants recovered enough to continue their work, but Russel took much longer to come to his senses. He was only vaguely aware that the three of them were still rubbing him down, and by the time he had mostly come to his senses, his body had been once more washed and was free from spunk. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for much of the locker room.

Russel staggered his way back towards the locker room and over towards his locker. He soon realized a small problem that he had not taken into account during his growth—he now had no clothes to wear! His gym shorts were a tattered wreck. They were useless to him even if he wasn’t too huge to wear him, and he hadn’t brought anything else to wear home—not that anything he owned would even fit him anymore. Even the muscle shirt he had been given by his friend which had once been the largest garment he owned was now far, far too tiny for him. He figured he could maybe force it on over his bulky brawn, but what then? The thing would be so stretched out that it would appear to be little more than spaghetti straps.

Russel stared down at the stretched-out garment in bemused fascination. He could hardly believe that this little bit of fabric had completely transformed his life and his body. He had gone from the smallest shrimp to the biggest bodybuilder in the span of an hour! He was even bigger than the biggest bodybuilder by a huge margin! Russel was just about to shove the stretched-out ribbons of a shirt back into his locker when he noticed something odd. The loading bar had vanished! It instead had been replaced by what looked to be a pop-up window. Russel unraveled the shirt as best he could and stared in awe at the new message on the fabric.

“A New Update is Ready to be Installed” it read.

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tagErotic CouplingsLaw 256: The Legality of Desire

Law 256: The Legality of Desire

The week before final exams. I had only been teaching at the law school for a couple of years, but it already felt like I had been doing it forever. It still felt great to go in and train a new crop of lawyers to send out into the world. It seemed odd to some that I could be a law professor at such a young age, but I was teaching evidence for a trial advocacy program, so the school was more interested in whether or not I knew my stuff and had experience as a successful lawyer. Since I did and wasn't worried about getting paid a fortune, the school jumped at the chance.

I sat behind a table at the front of the classroom on a small raised platform. The seats were arranged in a slowly sloping stadium style, long curving tables punctuated by revolving chairs bolted to the floor. Today's class would likely be short because everyone wanted to go and study for final exams. I wasn't too concerned about my students, although a few didn't seem to understand the class as well as I would have expected. I would have offered assistance to those students, but all grading was done anonymously and I had no idea who was in trouble and who was excelling. The school was concerned with professors playing favorites, so students had to willingly tell their professors what their grades were if they wanted to get help and explanation for the work and exams that were given.

My students quietly filed in and took their seats for one of their final classes. They were all dressed as you would expect students to be dressed, jeans and sweatshirts, the occasional t-shirt or sweater. All except for one. Her name was Isabella, although everyone called her Bella. She was dressed in a blouse that appeared to made out of silk, with the top three buttons undone. This was tucked into a skirt that came down to her knees and almost seemed to dance as she walked down the aisle. She always sat in the front row, although I had never seen her dressed like that. I had always managed to avoid seeing my students as anything but students, but with Bella it was always difficult. The only way to describe her was stunning. She had dark, lustrous hair that was pulled up into a ponytail today. Her eyes shone, almost as if they were filled with diamonds or stars and her smile could light up a room. Although her face could inspire poets, I must confess that I would occasionally have somewhat baser thoughts about her body as well. Bella possessed some of the most luscious and feminine curves I had ever seen.

Her legs were long and supple, her hips beautifully curved, but of all her curves, her breasts were by far the most magnificent. Her breasts were full and round and seemed to have the ability to nearly defy gravity. Although she always wore a bra (at least as far as I could tell) I had no doubt that she could easily go without. It was her breasts, in combination with her blouse that caused my breath to catch in my throat as I saw her. I tried my best not to look and calmed my mind, trying desperately not to allow any reaction to her incredibly beautiful form to show on my body.

She took her seat and I began class, going through the details of the upcoming exam, studiously attempting to avoid her gaze. I finished by handing out a review guide and asked the class to look it over and to ask me any questions they might have before they left. After handing it out, I sat down at my desk and looked over the class to see if anyone seemed to have any particular trouble. At this point, I made the mistake of looking at Bella again.

She seemed to be totally engrossed in the guide as my eyes fell upon her. With each breath, her blouse seemed to stretch with the most entrancing cleavage showing where her blouse buttons were undone. She tapped her pen against her teeth as she flipped through the pages as I looked at her. She glanced up and saw me looking, which caused me to blush slightly. She smiled, and then proceeded to slip the tip of her pen between her lips and I thought I could see the slightest glimpse of her tongue. I wasn't sure what I was seeing, part of me hoping she was trying to tease me, part of me worried she was just trying to put me into an intractable situation that she could use to her advantage. I had never met with her outside of class, so I had no idea what kind of woman she was.

All I knew was that I was finding her remarkably intoxicating and was glad I was sitting behind my desk so she couldn't see the effect she was having on me and how tight my slacks felt. She looked back down at her guide and my eyes drifted over her body, down to her legs, at which point she parted them slightly, and I could have sworn that I saw no panties, but just a pair of silky smooth thighs moving up to an equally smooth pussy. I tried desperately to tear my eyes away, worried that my desire for her would show too well when I tried to stand up. As I practically stared at this vision of femininity I watched her hand slowly slide underneath the desk and push her skirt up her thigh. I had a perfect view of that closely shaved pussy as she slowly dragged her finger over her clit. My heart practically caught in my throat as I watched her slip one, then two fingers into her pussy. I could almost see her juices glistening on her fingers as she slid them slowly in and out. My cock was painfully swollen by this point as I tried to imagine just how tight she would feel and how I longed to feel her womanhood envelop me completely. Finally, I looked away and took a series of deep breaths, not sure if I had just seen her coming on to me, or if she had just not noticed that I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she pleasured herself in my classroom.

As my students started to file out, I leaned back in my chair behind my desk, closing my eyes, longing to picture Bella in my mind in the privacy of my office, or perhaps my bedroom, my thoughts of her growing steamier and more intense with each moment. I tried to stop myself, knowing that I could feel my shaft growing and swelling, and yet enjoying the feel of it, aching to wonder what it would feel like to slip my cock deep inside her, filling her up, her body shaking with the power of every thrust. In a moment, however, my reverie was interrupted as heard a woman's voice say, "excuse me." I looked up and saw Bella standing in front of me. Because my desk was on a raised platform, it took everything I had not to blatantly stare down her blouse and drink in that intoxicating vision.

"I have quite a few questions with this guide, and I haven't been doing very well on any of the work so far. I was wondering if I could meet with you in your office later today."

"Are you sure you don't want to just talk now?'

"We should really talk in private. I'm a little embarrassed by it."

"Of course Bella. Three this afternoon?"

"That would be perfect. Thank you so much Professor!" She quickly turned and gathered her things from her seat. She bent over slightly, her skirt rising up her thigh, placing more of her flawless skin on display. That sight alone was too much for me to bear, requiring me to sit behind my desk for a few more moments as my swollen and insistent cock slowly began to soften and shrink back to its more manageable size. Finally, everyone in my class had left and I gathered my books and papers to bring them up to my office on the sixth floor.

My office was what you would expect of a fairly new teacher, even if I had been granted tenure already. (Quite early for tenure I might add.) The office was small and filled with a number of books, many of them part of the research I was doing for a new paper that I hoped to publish next semester. My desk was mostly empty, although it had a few knickknacks that I had gathered from my work as a lawyer and my time as a law student. I sat down in my leather back chair and looked up at the clock. It was already two-fifty in the afternoon, so I decided to close my eyes for a few minutes to relax a bit before Bella arrived. Just as I was about to doze off, I heard a soft knock on the door.

"Professor?" I looked up to see Bella standing in the doorway, her hands folded in front of her, her backpack strapped over both shoulders. The backpack pulled back slightly on her blouse, causing her breasts to strain against the buttons on the soft fabric. I took a deep breath as I looked at her, noticing her passing resemblance to the sexy schoolgirls that populated the dreams of teenage boys around the world, as well as quite a few men. At this moment, I definitely understood the appeal. I pushed that thought out of my mind though, trying to remain a cool, detached professor; definitely not wanting to violate any code of ethics.

"What can I do for you Bella?" She stepped into my office and closed the door behind her. Normally students kept my door open because my office can get warm and stifling, but given she said her problem embarrassed her a little, I didn't find it odd. After this, she sat down with her legs crossed and handed me a printout of the grades she had received in my class so far.

"What exactly is the problem? These grades are quite good. Exemplary really." While I was looking at the printout, she had stood up and locked the door. Upon hearing the click of the lock, I looked up at her a little confused.

"Professor, the truth is that my problem isn't my grades. That was just an excuse to get in here." She looked down for a moment and raised her hands up to slowly undo one more button on her blouse. "I've just really wanted to thank you and tell you how attractive I think you are. I know you think I'm attractive too because I saw you watching me in class. Did you like the little show I put on for you?" Through all of this, she had an incredibly seductive smile on her face, as if she knew how incredibly hot she was and the effect that she was having on me.

Her comments served to raise more than just the temperature in the room as my cock began to stir in my slacks. I was torn between looking into her eyes to see if she meant what she said and enjoying the view that was being presented to me. Bella's skirt seemed slightly shorter than it was earlier that day, each breath she took pushed her breasts against her blouse, her bra straining to hold in that gloriously curved chest. I knew if I didn't take action now I might not be able to prevent something from happening, so I stood up quickly, forgetting the effect that her body was having on me.

"Bella, you really shouldn't be doing this. We really shouldn't be doing this." I started to move for the door, but she put her hand on my chest and looked into my eyes.

"Professor, you may not think we should do this, but part of you is certainly interested." She smiled and continued to look into my eyes as her hand slowly moved down my body. I could see passion burning in her eyes as her fingers lightly caressed my now painfully swollen cock through the fabric of my slacks. I involuntarily shuddered at her touch and I licked my lips as I looked at her. She placed her palm flat against my shaft and licked her lips. "I think we really both want to do this." With that, she undid the rest of the buttons on her blouse and slipped it off of her body. Then, without taking her hand from my throbbing cock, she knelt down in front of me and only then used both of her hands to undo my belt and slide my slacks down to my ankles. She followed by slipping off my underwear, freeing my cock, practically springing out into her face. On the head was a single glistening drop of precum, a drop that Bella was eyeing greedily as she leaned forward and licked off of the tip. The feel of her tongue sent shudders through me and I knew that I couldn't control myself any longer. I knew that I had to enjoy every pleasure that Bella had in mind for me.

I leaned back against my desk as I felt Bella's lips engulf my cock. The feel of it made my eyes practically roll into the back of my head, her tongue tracing up and down the large vein in my cock, each flick of her tongue causing waves of pleasure to shoot through my body like electricity. I grabbed onto my desk, trying desperately to keep my wits about me, as I looked down at her, her innocent looking face swallowing my cock, her lips grazing my base as I felt the tip of my shaft press against the back of her throat. I could feel myself swelling, the cum practically boiling inside me, aching to shoot out and fill her mouth. She could feel me looking at her and she looked up at me, her eyes staring into mine as she licked and sucked me, practically willing the cum out of me. All the while, she put her hands behind her and started unhooking her bra. Her stretching pushed her breasts against her bra, pushing against the fabric, her nipples hard and poking through. I was beginning to lose control as she removed her bra and slipped her mouth off of my cock. I was breathing heavily and aching for more as she looked up at me. As she looked at me, she bit her bottom lip and slipped her hand down to caress her dripping wet pussy, to tease and tantalize her sensitive clit.

"Do you still think we shouldn't do this professor?" I knew I couldn't say no. She knew the very same thing, so I gave up any pretense of control.

"I don't care. We have to do this. I need it Bella. I need it so bad I can barely control myself." At this she licked her lips and raised one of her breasts up to my cock. She then took her other hand and started to stroke me, causing precum to drip over her firm and supple breasts.

"I've been wanting to feel this for so long. I've dreamt of feeling your juices on my breasts." She pulled me closer to her, the head of my cock almost grazing her hard erect nipple. My precum dripped onto her nipple, glistening under the light in my office. After repeating the process on her other breast, she took me back into her mouth, her tongue rasping along the full length of my cock, pressing my head against the back of her throat. At the same time, she rubbed my precum into her breasts, moaning as she did so, her sounds of ecstasy like lightning through my body. Her mouth moved up and down my cock faster and faster, her moans combining with her tongue to make my mind race with unadulterated desire. I began to moan loudly and uncontrollably, not realizing or caring that anyone walking by could hear what we were doing. I grabbed at my desk, trying desperately to stay on my feet as my head began to swim. Before I could even say, my cock began to spasm in her mouth. Her innocent face had a look of absolute sexual pleasure on it as she began to swallow shot after shot of my hot sticky cum. My shaft spasmed and pulsed as her tongue tasted my juices flowing into her mouth and down her throat. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the taste and feel, almost looking as if she was climaxing as well just from the eroticism of the moment.

After sucking every last drop of cum out of my cock, Bella released my still swollen shaft from her mouth and stood in front of me. Looking at her body, I knew that my cock would never soften if she was still around. She then leaned forward and pressed her breasts against my body, still glistening and sticky from the precum she had rubbed into them. I couldn't control myself and kissed her passionately, my tongue swirling around hers, still able to taste myself in her mouth and getting more aroused with each passing moment. My cock swelled and grazed against the hem of her skirt as I pulled her close to me, loving the feel of her body and the smell of her sexual juices so close to me. I pulled back and whispered into her ear.

"God, that was incredible. I know we're not done though."

"Mmmmm, and just what do you have in mind Professor?" As she whispered Professor into my ear, her tongue grazed against me and I couldn't take it any more. I reached back and swept everything off of my desk with a crash. I pulled her against me and then turned her to face my desk. Softly pushing her down to the well oiled wood, I guided her to lay her torso against my desk, her firm supple breasts crushed against the wood. The cool feel of my desk against her hot and sensitive skin caused her to jump, the stimulation of her nipples making her moan and her pussy to practically drip. As she moaned, I pushed her skirt up over her ass, slowly grazing my fingers over her silky smooth skins, practically tracing a path of fire over skin given how hot we both were. I then took one hand and guided my swollen cock, practically dripping with precum, to the entrance of her tight, wet pussy. I then took the head of my cock and used it to smear my precum over her clit, rubbing and grinding against it, each movement causing Bella to moan and rub against the desk, which only served to stimulate her even more.

"Do you want me to fuck you Bella? Tell me what you want." I teased her some more, my cock pulsing from the stimulation, my breath shallow and ragged, aching to enter her, but longing to hear her soft innocent voice divulge such sensual desires.

"I want you to fuck me. I want that cock so deep inside me your balls are slapping against me. I want your hot sticky cum to fill me up and drip down my thigh. I want you to fuck me so hard our bodies are shaking." With that, I couldn't stop myself anymore. With one swift motion, I plunged my cock into her waiting pussy, so tight I could feel myself rubbing against her walls as I pushed my head in as far as it would go. I ground my groin against her, lightly grazing her clit as I began to fuck her with abandon. I ached for release, loving the feel of her pussy, luxuriating in the sensation of her juices covering me. My precum mixed with her juices, my hands running up and down her body, pressing her breasts against the desk, rubbing her nipples against the rapidly warming wood. Her moans grew louder, each sound pushing me closer and closer to climax. My desire had completely taken me over. I wanted nothing but to fuck this sexual goddess until we both passed out from exhaustion. I moaned and thrusted like a man possessed. My cock pulsed and throbbed as precum practically flowed out of me into her. Our juices mixed and lubricated my shaft as I fucked her faster and faster. Her moans practically became high pitched wails and screams. I could feel her pussy tightening, coming closer to the spasms of climax. I longed to feel it, knowing her orgasm would trigger an explosion in me.

"Cum for me. Cum for me Bella."

"Oh god! Fuck me! Fuck me!" I thrust harder and harder, my cock practically buried in her sweet hot pussy. Finally, her body tensed and I knew she was about to cum. Her body seemed to explode, shaking and shuddering with the force of her orgasm. Her pussy clenched and pulsed around my cock, each spasm driving me closer to explosion. I could barely breathe as I listened to her passionate and intense moans. Finally, unable to hold back, I exploded. Wave after wave of hot sticky cum shot deep into her tight, dripping wet pussy. The feel of my juices inside her seemed to trigger a second orgasm, just as intense as the first. Our bodies shook with the force of our lovemaking, the sheer power of our orgasms. Unable to stand anymore, I leaned forward, practically collapsing on top of Bella. I licked my lips, lips that had become dry from my heavy breathing.

"Bella, I must confess that I've had some fantasies about something like this happening?"

"Is that right Professor?"

"Yes, and call me Jared. Care to discuss them tonight over dinner at my apartment?"

"Mmmm, only if we can move the dinner to the bedroom afterwards." And with that, an amazing and somewhat illicit relationship began.

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Instead of dragging my time out as long as possible in the hopes of making more money, I hurried through and rushed off the stage with less than half of my usual takings on my person. I pushed my way to the one available bathroom backstage and stood over the sink,.

I turned the tap on and splashed my face with cold, it was obviously a hallucination, I reasoned with myself, drying my face and looking in the mirror. I pulled out the make up case, always kept under the sink in case of emergencies and re-applied the majority, which had washed off with the water and rubbed off onto the towel.

Calmer, I walked out of the bathroom with my head held high, ready for when Mr. Black would call me to have a private audience with my first client. Sitting on a hard chair, I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths, maintaining my calmness.

After a few minutes Mr. Black’s voice cut through the chattering of the girls around me. “Belle!” he yelled, “You’re up.” He ushered me towards one of the plushest suites in the club.

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