Note: As this story is near-telepathic, paragraphing it is neigh-impossible. As such, we have resolved to edit it into paragraphs of each action and thought, to make the exchange clearer. This means it looks "choppy", but the alternative is impossible to follow.
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She walked into the copier room, holding a stack of papers, wearing some fairly conservative office clothing; a knee-high black skirt and white blouse, stretched over my broad shoulders, dark hair tied back in a ponytail that fell down my strong back. Her toned tanned calf muscles tensed as she walked in her black high heels - but since it is the only part of her body that is really visible, the men in the office have taken to sneering amongst themselves that it must be the only part of her that is any good. He was working the copier, standing at his full muscular height, pushing papers into the tray, not paying attention to the outside world, his jacket hung on the doorframe, dressed now in dark pants and white shirt, hair back. The heat off the copier filled the room.
She came up to stand behind him, rolling her eyes slightly. "This jerk thinks he owns this building" she thought. She paused for a few moments, and then cleared her throat. "Excuse me... I booked the copier for now!" He turned my head, sneered at her "So? This isn't done yet. You will simply have to wait... Becky..." knowing that she preferred her real name be used, and not the girlish one... He kept working the copier, feeding the tray like he was in the gym tacking weights. The machine was churning out papers, grinding.
Her patience with him snapped, and she leaned across, hitting the pause button on the copier, bringing the machine to a halt. "My name is Rebecca, and its my TURN, you moron!" She drew myself up to her full impressive height, dark eyes flashing. "This is the guy who is always making comments about how I must be fat to wear the clothes I do... I'll show him!" she thought, eyes blazing. He turned, very slowly, his massive bulk seeming to fill the room. "Now listen here... Becky-girl... just simmer down... just wait your turn until the big boys are done with the toy. Its not like you have much of an option, but please, try to lose gracefully."
She raised an eyebrow, his arrogant manner making up her mind for her as she took a step back. She slowly extended her right leg, toned calf muscle defining, drawing his cold gaze, her stretching leg causing the hem of the skirt to start slipping up her toned, gorgeous thigh. "Oh, I think I can make you eat out of my hand, honey..." He smiled, licked his lips looking at that strong leg. "Oh is that so... Becky? What do you have in mind?" He leaned back on the copier, the stand creaking ominously as his massive bulk is added to its weight. He flexed his chest in his white shirt.
"Oh, I'll just let you take a good look at the hottest bod you've ever seen... I'm sure after that you'll be doing whatever I say, my dear..." She smirked, reached up slowly to unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse, revealing the top of her firm, tanned cleavage. "And if, or rather when, you fail, then what? What happens when you have shown all you have and I am still as unimpressed by you?" he taunted, smirking, looking at her, letting his eyes linger on that cleavage...
"Oh, that won't happen, dear..." she smiled, sitting back against a shelf, resting her posterior there as she slowly crossed her long, toned legs - muscles tensing under tanned skin as the hem of the skirt rode further up her hard, taut thighs. "Won't this be fun. I get you to strip, and when you are done I can just walk out and tell everyone what a pudgy girl you really are, Becky." He kept smirking as he watched her, seeing how he was getting to her just as the vision of those lovely legs were getting to him.
"Oh, you won't be walking out until I tell you to, little boy..." she replied confidently, smiling as she saw his eyes drawn to her gorgeous legs. "He won't have been with a woman with better pins... he's in trouble already..." she thought, rolling her right ankle around, causing her calf muscle to flex and tense with the small motion, drawing his gaze further. He leaned back, the vision of those legs tantalising, as he took a deep breath, thinking of women who have moaned out under him before, defeated in rapture, with legs so lovely, toned and tanned, quivering as he made them cum over and over. If he could take them out, then he would her too, even though those legs are lovely. "We'll find out, won't we Becky..."
The link between them was almost telepathic, as she saw the same visions of the women he had defeated, her dark eyes narrowing as she TENSED her long, toned legs, feeling them flex into hard, taut definition, making even the hottest pins of the women he had defeated seem skinny, stick-like. The images faded from his mind as his gaze remained locked on HER legs. "Nice try, hon" she smirked. He conjured the image of the aeoribics-coach he downed last week to his mind, her long legs were outstanding, and he crossed them over, placing her ankles on the opposite shoulder as he towered over her, gripping her quivering flexing thighs as he drove into her over and over, making her scream out her her premium line of defence crumbled, and after half an hour of slamming thrusts her legs were weakened, shaking, covered in sweat, unable to hold her up or even push them together. The image before him, those tensed powerful legs, seemed to face somewhat as the warfare was joined.
"Uuhhh..." she gasped out almost imperceptibly, reaching behind her, she untied the hairband holding her ponytail together, shaking her dark hair out wildly, feeling it fall around her toned shoulders, framing her beautiful features. She licked her lips, dark eyes flashing. "I'm more woman than you can handle, stud" she said, but there was a hint of doubt in there now, the image invading her mind. He watched her lose that focus for an instant, pressing the image of her legs aside as he in turn focused on the task at hand. He smiled as he saw her long raven hair shake free, smiling as she now had to step this up, not as easy as she might have thought. "Oh really? And what makes you think that? Just because I have not fucked you into oblivion does not make impossible, darlin.'"
"You'll be begging to touch me by the end, honey!" she retorted, running her hands down her blouse, slowly unbuttoning one button, then another, the blouse parting to reveal her firm breasts in their black bra and her absolutely outstanding abs. They were taut, defined under her tanned skin, iron-hard, the very opposite of the pudgy girl the office was taking her for, just red-hot, drawing his gaze with their sheer perfection. He almost grunted out as he saw her abs, so perfectly sculpted, hardened, and yet feminine, ready to be touched. He placed his hands behind his broad back not to do something stupid as he sneered back "You will be begging me to touch you... over and over, deeper and deeper."
"Oh, we'll see about that!" She noticed his reaction, leaned back against the wall, angled her hips upwards a little, abs crunching while she pushed her right leg out against the black skirt, slowly ripping the fabric down a side seam, unveiling the side of her leg from her high-heeled foot all the way up to the top of her tanned, hard outer thigh. The professional clothes were clearly overmatched, giving up against her ironhard woman's body. "You do look nice Becky, I am not contesting that. But I have had better." He smiled as he attempted to push the image of the clothes tearing off with the memory of that one girl that dressed up as Supergirl. She was such a freak, and finally tied him down and tore her own outfit off just so she could get to him faster, hissing and spitting profanities all the way.
He managed to distract himself for a moment, but his gaze kept flitting back to her taut, tanned abs, comparing to a more waif-like Supergirl doesn't seem to cut it as his mind fought to resist. Her right hand sliding slowly down her belly muscles and onto the waistband of the skirt. Her fingers unclasped it and let it fall to the floor revealing her long legs in all their glory, modesty covered by black panties, her white blouse still hanging over her shoulders.