As a sportswriter, I travel a lot and have the opportunity to meet a lot of women. But I've never met anyone like Gina.
My editor called to say he had an assignment for me, so I went in to meet with him and he told me what it was: a story on the female bodybuilding competitions. I wasn't very excited about it. Watching and talking to a bunch of muscly women? No, thanks. But I needed work, so I took the job and figured I'd just get it over with as soon as possible.
That attitude changed almost as soon as I started. The story required me to go down state to a see an actual competition, and my editor arranged for me to attend a party that the sponsoring league was hosting night before. It was interesting, because although I'm shorter than average, I've gotten accustomed to talking with athletes and being around people much larger than me. But at the party, many of the larger people around me were women, and some of them were quite beautiful. Until that night, I had never experienced the feeling of being surrounded by superior power and being strongly attracted to it at the same time. My editor had hoped I could turn the article into a personality profile on someone, and a representative from the league suggested featuring Gina, one of the veteran competitors. He said he would send her my way. I circulated among the guests, collecting observations through small talk and eavesdropping. Then, as I stood at the bar, I heard a woman's voice boom out behind me, "Little man!"
I turned around and saw a woman walking toward me with a smile on her face. She had on a sparkling evening dress, but was well-built and obviously one of the contestants. I felt myself flush at her calling attention to my size compared to hers. She was already tall, but in the high heels she wore for the formal event she positively towered over me.
"I'm Gina," she said, and held out her hand. It was hard to know how to respond. She was stunning, with dark, Mediterranean skin and kinky black hair that fell past her shoulders. I raised my hand to hers, and she gave it a firm shake—stronger than mine, actually. Then I stammered my way through the conversation, and we agreed to do the interview the next evening, after the competition, in her hotel room.
The party piqued my interest about the contest, so I was excited to arrive and find that I'd been given a front-row seat. The contestants weren't wearing very much—swimsuits, in fact, and fairly revealing ones. Sometimes the outline of their nipples was visible beneath the fabric, and when they turned around, I always got a generous view of tight, muscular glutes. Their bodies were tan, glistening with oil, and I found myself surprisingly aroused by the parade of bulging biceps and thighs. Gina, in particular, looked fantastic, smiling widely and obviously loving the stares of the judges and the audience. A red bikini wrapped around her body and disappeared between the cheeks of her ass. She struck a pose at one point, legs spread, arms up and flexing. I shifted in my seat, sweating through my pants, and pretended to take notes, scribbling across the page because I couldn't think of anything to actually write. The judges ended up giving the title to a younger contestant I had hardly noticed, but Gina placed among the finalists, and I spent the next few hours anticipating the interview, entertaining fitful daydreams that made me so nervous that I skipped dinner.
When she answered the door she flashed a big smile and said, "Little man!" just like she had the night before.
I smiled, but I was disappointed to see she was dressed down in a t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. As we settled in, she asked if I actually had any experience in athletic competition. When I told her I used to wrestle in high school, she started teasing me, asking me if I enjoyed holding down other men. Then she challenged me to a match.
"No, I don't think so," I said.
But she persisted, and quickly stood up to put me in a hold.
"Like this, little man. How would you get free?"
"Well," I started, and began to move. She tightened her grip, and I realized I wasn't going to be able to avoid what she had been proposing. We tumbled to the floor, and in a few moments, I had her pinned. It had been too easy.
"Hey," I said. "You let me win."
She ignored me, but pushed her knee gently against my inner thigh and said, "Ooh, little man! You are not so little anymore!"
It was true. From the moment she touched me I had had a huge hard-on and couldn't cover it up. Speechless, I felt my face turn flaming red and released my grip on her.
Gina gave me a big, knowing smile and pushed herself onto her feet. Somehow, though, I was frozen, and stayed right where I was, crouched on all fours, looking up at her like a dog begging at a banquet table. Meeting my gaze, she took off her t-shirt and yanked down her sweatpants to reveal a blue, barely-there one-piece that consisted of two thin strips that covered her jutting nipples and converged just above her crotch. Her body was muscular and bronze, except for a light tanline the width of a g-string that ribboned across her hips. I was mesmerized, and felt my penis pressing out now, trying to rise up inside my pantleg.
"So: would you like a rematch, little man?" she asked.
This time, I knew, she would not be holding back. This time, I was going to lose.
I let out a ragged "Yes," and Gina got down on the floor next to me. I could feel myself trembling as we locked into position, and only a moment passed before she shouted, "Go!"
I struggled as best I could, but she was definitely stronger. Much stronger, in fact. I got away from the first hold she tried to put me in, but she held me very tightly and soon my arms were tired from the strain. From her position of advantage behind me, I thought I would end up stomach first on the carpet. But instead, when I stopped trying to resist, she turned me around and pinned me on my back. She hovered over me, holding me down at the elbows, and laughed triumphantly.
"You are no match for Gina!" she announced.
