Thank you so much for reading, and I hope it's as good a time for you as it was for me! I've been reading stories here for a while and decided to try my hand at telling one of my own. This is very heavily based off of a real experience of mine, so if that ruins the fantasy for you, turn back now. If this ends up going off well, I'll do a few more. As a disclaimer everyone in this story is of the legal age, seeing as I was too young to know better at the time! In the meanwhile, enjoy. No one was harmed in the making of this story, but should you know of or resemble the characters listed here...feel free to let us all know!
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In college I was a nerd.
I know, hard to believe. I went to a little community place, just far enough away from my parents to make sure they wouldn't come up and bother me every day. I rather liked it there; it was small, out of the way, and beautiful all year round. Considering I went there to pursue art, it was as good a place as any.
Granted, I didn't do much while I was there. I had few friends in high school, fewer who kept in touch. I wasn't exactly popular in the most traditional sense. I was the nerd with the big dick. Not the best of reputations to carry with you where I was from. I got picked on almost more than I got laid, and with the exception of a very steamy MILF who broke me in, I tried to be careful with my needs. High school, as I learned, was a minefield of drama I did my best to avoid. Sleeping around wasn't my style. So while I got my fair share of dates and had my fun, I was always very, very picky about who I got into bed with.
I learned early on being big doesn't mean you get to drown in pussy. It'll get girls in your bed, sure, but you have to be careful. I don't like hurting my partners, and after dozens of failed blowjobs and walkouts, I figured having a huge cock was only helpful if you could find girls who could take it. You'd be surprised on just how few women can actually DO that. Some try for the novelty; some say they're size queens...but to us truly big guys? We know when a chick's eyes are bigger than her stomach. And I hated being turned down because of my size. But I wasn't going to compromise and just fuck whomever. I was a nerd you remember. D&D isn't going to play itself, and elf girls don't scream at you to stop because you're halfway in and it hurts so bad that they're going home.
So my freshman year at The Big U, I was practically a hermit. I kept to my studies, did my art thing, and that was it. Besides a party or two my roommate threw; I was hardly outside my room. And I liked it that way. Part of me, anyway. Seclusion was, and still is, something I enjoy. But I do have my animal side, and it had been a while since that part of me had come out and feasted. I don't think my sexual needs even came up that entire first year. I'd see a busty cutie or spy a coed across the green and I'd feel the spark, but I never acted on it. Porn once or twice a day was all the action I got.
It wasn't until I went home for Christmas break that an offhand comment from my brother broke me out of that seclusion. He commented I had been getting...well, thick. Months of sitting alone, drawing, playing video games, and nothing else were not doing anything for my figure. The phrase 'Freshman Fifteen' came up more than a few times that holiday, and I didn't like how it made me feel. So when I got back, I decided to find a gym. There was a long weekend coming up, and that was a good time to find a place and start working out.
The place I found was called "Durable". I remember it being funny at the time because the building was so far back into some woods that I passed it three times thinking it was abandoned. I had decided to go there rather than the larger Gold's Gym or even the one on campus because I felt absurdly silly and self-conscious. I didn't want to just walk in anywhere and be judged for being the stereotype of the white boy pathetically panting away in the corner. I was very much going to be that guy, in all likelihood, but I didn't have to do it in public view. Durable was out of the way, smaller, and - hopefully - less crowded than anywhere else would have been.
There was an added benefit of it being a short bike ride from my dorm, so proximity played a part. I was a freshman without a car.
I went in, a bag tossed over one shoulder, and the building was little more than a converted garage hanger. One big open space. Concrete floor covered in panel mats, high, scaffold ceilings. It certainly didn't look that big from the outside. Weight machines were tossed in lines with little care. Racks of weights on one wall, mirrors on the other. Six, maybe seven busted lockers sat right beside the doorway, beside a rack of terribly old magazines and the front check-in desk. The showers and bathrooms were at the back of a dim hallway that I remember looking a lot like something out of an Aliens movie set. I vowed to never have to use them. It was also blissfully empty. Except for me and a woman sitting behind the desk. Obviously she worked there, so I walked up.
She was sitting facing away from me, looking at a computer screen. Her black hair was cropped in a literal horse mane; buzzed on the sides, long and flowing in a strip down the middle. She was wearing a tight tank top with a skull across its back, and it left her arms and shoulders bare.
And she was huge.
And when I saw huge, I don't mean fat. Her deltoid wasn't even in full flex and it looked bigger than the steak I had eaten for Christmas dinner. Her bicep could have crushed my head. Her back was a wide, solid wall. Her tank did nothing to hide the definition down her traps, and I had a feeling she was cut all the way down. I coughed, nervous. She turned as I got closer, not having heard me come in. And that's where I had to stop.
She stood up as she turned. Huge maybe wasn't enough. 6'6" at least, she was a tower. Only, as she turned, she exposed her right side, which I hadn't been able to see. Her entire right arm and eye were gone. She had a patch over her eye, and her tank top again did nothing to hide the mass of scar tissue she had across the socket where her arm used to be. The scars traveled up over her jaw to slash across under her eye patch nearly up to her hairline. I had to take a moment to remind myself not to stare, but god, it was hard. She had been
mauled
by something.
She didn't seem to care about the view she gave. She smiled at me, warm and friendly. Her one good eye was a gorgeous amber brown. Despite her disfigurement, the rest of her was downright sinful. All her muscle just pushed itself forward as if it begged to be touched. Her top was stretched by a pair of breasts so huge I almost thought they were fake, but the way they jiggled, held high and perky despite gravity, told me the woman was as natural as anyone. Placed almost deliberately, some ear buds peeked out from the valley of her cleavage. I don't know much about cup sizes, but whatever letter comes after Z was a good fit. Fucking stacked. This woman had more boob than any ten pornstars you could name combined. Hell, all of her muscle was probably just there to help her move with those giant mountains on her chest.
"Hi!" She greeted me, and her voice was that smoky, lounge singer baritone. The kind of voice that drips sex without even trying. "I'm Violet. Can I help you?"
I said something stupid. I honestly don't remember. I was still just taking her in. Deep in my gut I felt something stirring. Embarrassment, sure, but it was more. I wasn't just staring at her because she was an oddity. I was staring because I NEEDED to see more of her. To take it in and just appreciate what her body was. What the being inside it was.
To me, in that instant, Violet was absolutely beautiful. More than that, she was Sexy. Capital 'S'. Downright smoking hot mountain of female badass. I wasn't even into girls like her before now. Huge and buff hadn't been my type. Scars and punk hairstyles had actually turned me
