Techno CultivatorChapter 34 Mysterious Challenger
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As she and Allan slowly rolled across the rubbery mat, exchanging positions with first one on top and then the other, Amelia couldn't help but remember another bizarre and erotic wrestling encounter she'd had with a former lover, several years ago. It had been far different than the passion-battle she was having with Allan.
It had been shortly after the unexpected death of her uncle Hugh Stone. Amelia had been working for several weeks with her uncle's crusty old attorney, accepting the transfer of the estate into her hands. One day, a young lawyer from the older attorney's office arrived at Stonehurst with some papers for her to sign. He was tall, almost inch for inch as tall as Amelia's own six-three, and quite handsome in dark, brooding, European sort of way. His name, she learned when he introduced himself, was Anthony Danko.
After working at her desk for almost half an hour, signing countless documents, Amelia felt a knot of tension in her upper back. She leaned back, raised both arms, clenched her fists, and stretched luxuriously like a tawny cat.
As she glanced up, Amelia saw that Anthony's eyes were wide with surprise, and riveted on her upraised arms. She knew exactly what he was looking at. Beneath the clinging silk fabric of the long-sleeved blouse, her biceps had flexed upward in sculptured bold relief.
They were like two baseballs; tautly rounded, hard, with etched definition. The silk seemed to soften their hard-flexed sinew ness, but it couldn't hide the obvious strength of the aroused bicep. And the handsome young lawyer seemed to be responding to that unexpected juxtaposition of sleekly feminine beauty and amazonite muscularity in a surprising manner. Anthony gave a whistle of appreciation.
"Hey, those are some guns you've got there, Miss Stone," Anthony said in a lightly bantering tone. "You must work out a lot, huh?"
For a split-second, Amelia felt a surge of anger rising within her. She was getting tired of men looking at her with hot, lusting eyes. But then, as she looked into his dark eyes and saw nothing but a sensual appreciation for what he was seeing, she quickly cooled down. There was something in this man that interested Amelia.
"So-ooo, you don't mind a little extra muscle in a woman?" Amelia murmured, brushing back a strand of her shoulder-length blonde hair.
"Not when it's so well-packaged," he replied with a grin. "I hope you don't take offense, but are you really as strong as you look?"
"Would you care to find out," Amelia purred in a soft, husky voice. "How about a little test of strength?" she asked with an impish smile.
With that, Amelia stood up and leaned over her desk, planting one elbow on the top, with her forearm raised and hand slightly curled. She gave Anthony a slow grin of silent challange, her green eyes sparkling.
"How about a little arm-wrestling," she invited.
"Hey, I'd love it," Anthony laughed. Quickly shedding his jacket, he moved around to the other side of the massive desk. He placed his own elbow down, raised his hand, and let his long fingers grip hers. His eyes traveled to her arm, wishing that it wasn't concealed by the long sleeves so that he could see the ripple and play of her sleekly sculpted female musculature.
As if reading his mind, Amelia reached up with her other hand and began to slowly roll up the sleeve of her silken blouse, exposing her sun bronzed arm to Anthony's eager gaze. Just for fun, Amelia flexed her bicep and sent it flexing up and down a couple of time. Anthony felt a shiver of excitement scamper along his spine as his eyes took in the sight of that sinuous movement along her upper arm. GAWD! She was something else . . . and she seemed to read him like a book, Anthony mused. That began to bother him just a bit!
"Are you ready?" she asked. He nodded. Then, without warning, her fingers crushed inward against his, and she began levering his arm down to the desk. But he put his own strength to work, and stopped the downward movement of their arms. For a couple of seconds they were in stalemate, neither able to lever the other's arm down. Then, slowly but surely, Anthony pressed Amelia's arm flat down against the desk with almost arrogant ease.
"Wow! You're good!" Amelia exclaimed, a gleam of interest in her jade-green eyes. It was the first time in years that any man had been able to defeat her at wrist-wrestling, and she was impressed. Amelia also felt a tell-tale tingling in her loins. This man was turning her on!
The contest of strength had even further excited Anthony. It showed in his heavy-lidded eyes and the quickening of his breath. He reached out with one hand, forefinger extended, and traced the smooth bulge of her bicep. His fingers slid around the ball-like muscle, discovering that he couldn't reach even half way around that splendidly arched bicep. Then, to the accompaniment of Amelia's sharp intake of breath, his fingers trailed over and along the under slope of one jutting breast.
He moved against her, folding her almost roughly into his arms. For a split-second she fought him, then his lips were kissing hers; hungry, demanding, penetrating, and she melted against his hard body. The hands grasping her own sleekly muscled shoulders were like iron. Anthony was as physically strong as any man she'd ever known. Amelia didn't doubt that he was also used to having his own way. Hm-mm, well we shall see about that, Amelia thought to herself.
Amelia realized with a start that she was as aroused as he was. She ran her hands down his sides, then reaching around to caress his powerful back, feeling the shifting play of heavy platelike bands of male sinew. Then her eager fingers reached down to cup his taut buttocks, one hard half-globe in each hand. It was like squeezing a pair of rubber beach balls. Meanwhile, Amelia was busy taking in the subtle signals being made by his lips and flickering tongue.
The very harshness of his kiss was revealing. Amelia could tell that he was trying to communicate something to her. The subtle confessions of lips, of sighs, of strongly gripping fingers; all of these signals were saying one thing, that he enjoyed pain! If that was the case, Amelia thought to herself, then he probably also secretly enjoyed being dominated by a powerful female. And that was right up her alley!
Unlike most women, Amelia was unusually confident about her sexuality. The majority of women need a man to be aggressive and dominant, to sweep them off their feet. It's their way of being assured that they are desired. These women don't like their men to be sexually passive, because they are not comfortable in taking the lead. Amelia Stone, however, was far from being the stereotypical female of the species . . . . she demanded to take the lead! She had a bold sexual appetite, and believed in taking what she wanted. She liked being in charge. For Amelia, that meant taking an active role in foreplay, letting her partner know what SHE wanted and when.
Some men, especially those who project a super-macho image, secretly delight in not having to orchestrate sex. In those instances when they are forced to become submissive by a powerfully dominant and aggressive female, they can relax and enjoy not having to GIVE the woman an orgasm. They can receive the attention of a woman who aggressively wants to turn them on, instead of having to always be the sexual initiator. Then, too, there are a lot of rich and powerful men who need a dose of pain and debasement every now and then. And this was exactly what Anthony Danko seemed to be communicating to Amelia right now.
Like most men, Anthony could not admit to a woman that he wanted to be "handled." So the handsome young lawyer resorted to a macho physical domination of a woman, just to make certain that the woman didn't get the idea that he was whimpy or something! But Anthony secretly hoped that the woman would fight back and prove her own female strength, and that she was capable of dominating HIM! If this was indeed his game, Amelia mused, then he'd picked the right player!
As a test, Amelia snaked one bare bronzed arm around his neck and pulled Anthony roughly to her. He tried to draw back, but she had him locked in the muscular vise of her bicep and forearm and he couldn't move. Her lips crushed down upon his; her tongue inserted between his teeth, flickering, probing, engaging and jousting . . . stoking his passion into a raging inferno of desire. Amelia reached down and slid one hand under the waistband of his trousers. She didn't have to search. His cock, already thick with-need, bulged against the front of his shorts. She gripped his veined shaft with her fingers and began to squeeze; a slow, strong, rhythmic pressure that brought a hot gasp of pleasure from his lips.
Meantime, Anthony's fingers were working with the buttons on her silken blouse. He fumbled with one buttom, and with a growl of impatience ripped the blouse away from her splendid upper torso. Without the silk blouse, her breasts were revealed in all their ripe, melon-solid magnificence. The beauty of her strong, sleek body took his breath away. Then, a second later, he stripped her nude.
Amelia released her hold around his neck, bringing her hands down to work at the buttons on Anthony's shirt. She slowly stripped his clothing from him, taking her time, enjoying the sight of his naked steel-sinewed upper torso. Anthony's deep-chested, broad- shouldered masculinity brought a gleam of pleasure to Amelia's eyes.
Once again Anthony folded Amelia into his arms, tightening them strongly around her back until she could hardly catch her breath.
They stood there, pressed hard against one another, their lips locked and tongues jousting. His hot, hard penis stood straight up between their bodies, pressing against the delicious flatness of her supple belly. A cry escaped Amelia's lips, as she suddenly felt a finger exploring the private places between her legs. Anthony discovered that she was already wet with need.
"Mmm-mmm," she murmured in his ear. " yes-sssssss, NOW! I want to do it now!" she commanded him breathlessly.
Without a word, Anthony took her down to the thickly carpeted floor and covered her with his weight. True to form, his hands grabbed both of her wrists, spread-eagled her arms, and pinned them to the floor. It was Anthony's way of asking . . . "OK, are you going to let me get away with this, or will you fight me?" At that moment Anthony Danko, the macho young lawyer, was ripe for the picking. He was giving the signal that Amelia had been waiting for ever since his fingers had first slid around her hard-flexed bicep, and then her breast. He was ready!
Ah-hhhh, with that silent signal Amelia Stone knew that she had the handsome young lawyer just where she wanted him.
Her sun bronzed thighs snaked up and around his hips, her solidly sinewy calves clamped across his lower back, slim ankles twined and locked. And then she began to squeeze him within the bondage of her sun bronzed, superbly muscled legs!
Anthony gave a sharp gasp of pain, and tried to roll away from Amelia.
But with a quick shake of her long legs, she brought him back under control. She fought against the grip of his hands around her wrists, making the etched muscles in her arms and shoulders writhe and ripple. After a moment or two, she was able to work free of his grip. Immediately, one arm came up under his left armpit, while her other hand slid across his right shoulder. Her hands clasped together behind his neck, fingers entwining. And, suddenly, Anthony realized that he could not move. Her tightly applied holds had left the young man totally immobilized. She was now the aggressor, like some glorious Amazon, completely in control of what was now taking place on that thickly carpeted floor. Amelia had turned the tables.
No longer was what they were doing merely foreplay to love-making. Instead, it was something far more elemental, far more primordial. It was an Amazonite impulse to test the strength of a potential sexual partner that had seized Amelia. It was natural selection at work, the female of the species demanding to choose only the strongest male as "breeding stock". And while she could not hope for an easy victory, Amelia found herself caught up in a delicious urgency to subdue this arrogant young male's strength, and make him completely submissive to her female domination.
But Amelia was under no misconception as to what would happen if she couldn't make the young lawyer submit to her Amazonian strength. He might enjoy pain, but Amelia didn't! For Amelia, this wasn't about inflicting pain, it was about domination and subjugation!
And if the truth were known, this was how Amelia Stone had come to most enjoy her sexual pleasure - with her being totally in physical control of the male, dominating him like some fabled Amazon!
On the other hand, Anthony was caught up in a frenzied mood that seemed to demand that he challange the full extent of the exciting female strength possessed by this magnificent young woman. Despite his natural male need to be the aggressor, the young lawyer discovered that he was strangely hungry to be overcome by this beautiful woman, to be subdued by this superbly muscled female . . . . if she could! One thing was certain; Anthony had never met a woman he couldn't control, either by his imposing physical presence, or by pain! But some mysterious, deeply hidden, age-old wisdom now scratched at his mind with desperate fingers . . . trying to focus his attention on the real possibility that THIS woman might be able to tame him, to vanquish him with her powerful female strength. And that possibility excited Anthony beyond anything he'd ever experienced! Thus, on that thick carpet they strove to see who would emerge victorious in their strange test of strength - male against female!
For nearly an hour, they intwined their powerful limbs in grips and holds that seemed to defy description. Amelia's wrestling prowess proved to be superior to Anthony's from the first few moments of their encounter. He was far stronger than she, but he discovered that he could not really bring his physical superiority into play. The woman was able to tie him up in one hold after the other, always keeping him tightly imprisoned within the satiny bondage of her muscular arms and splendidly sinewy thighs. His male strength was useless.
As they rolled slowly back and forth across the room, silent except for the gasps of their labored breathing and occasional moans of pain, they knocked over chairs and toppled lamps. Had anyone looked in on them, they would have assumed that they were fighting a battle to the death. But this was not the case at all. For all of the savage fierceness of their wrestling, neither was being subjected to injury. Pain was present from time to time, but it was well within the parameters of what to Amelia's mind constituted all-out "erotic combat."
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Amelia and Anthony had reached a point of what appeared to be a stalemate. They lay there on the thickly carpeted floor, barely moving. Amelia's big body was washed with sweat, and every flexed sinew stood out in bold relief. The young Amazon was putting everything she had into this battle, and she was amazed that she had not yet subdued this man
Their two naked bodies lay locked together in what looked like the classic 69 position. His face was locked into the V of her crotch, his nose and mouth pressed firmly into the thick golden muff of her luxurious pubic hair. He could breath, but just barely. The sweet- pungent smell of her was almost overpowering . . . but that wasn't what he was paying attention to at the moment. Anthony was totally fixated on the coiled, rippling thighs that were locked around his neck, as well as the sleekly sinewy arms embracing his upper torso in a crushing bear-hug!
Her long sun bronzed arms were wrapped around his ribcage; forearms pressing with cruel pressure against his sides, hands clasped, fingers laced together, knuckles digging into his ribs. As Amelia pulled her arms tighter, strongly sculpted deltoids arched up into quivering relief, and the etched definition of her triceps leaped into view. She grunted with effort as sweat dripped off her naked body onto his.
"Mmm-mmm, arr-rrrrrrrrr" came the sound of his feeble cries from within the prison of her sweat-slick legs. His fists beat a tattoo on the thick carpet, and his feet kicked slowly, evidencing his desire to yield to Amelia's magnificent Amazon strength. But still Amelia squeezed her muscular thighs together. He was a prisoner locked in that sleek bondage of female flesh and sinew and she wasn't ready to release him.
The strain of effort which showed in Amelia's beautiful face eased to a mere frown of concentration as she listened to his silent pleas for mercy. She was certain that he was beaten, both physically and emotionally. But it wasn't over yet, not until she had elicited his acceptance of her Amazon superiority over him.
"Do you surrender . . . do you yield to me?" she demanded.
"Mufffff-ffff" came his reply from between her muscular legs. Amelia took that as an affirmative answer, but she wasn't finished yet. There was only one way to assure his total subjugations, and that was to master him sexually. That would be the ultimate Amazonian victory
With a grunt of effort, Amelia flipped him over until he was laying backwards on top of her big body, his head still locked between her thighs. She slid upward along his body, inching herself into proper position. Then Amelia very slowly lifted her head up between his trembling, wide-spread legs!
For a moment, she buried her face into the thickly matted hair that swirled around his heavily veined cock. She drank in the scent of him, felt the thickness of his member against her face. and then she opened her lips and took his big, rock-hard penis into her mouth.
For a second or two she sucked on him, nibbling gently with her lips, nipping into the resilient man-flesh with her teeth. He groaned with a mixture of pleasure and pain, both equally delicious. His long legs tried to scissor around Amelia's head, but a none-too- gentle jerk on his throbbing penis made him loosen them quickly. Anthony tried to pull his head free of Amelia's thighs, but she gave them a quick shake and a squeeze, and he promptly quit fighting. The young Amazon wasn't ready to release him yet, she had other plans.
Her long fingers circled around the base of his extended penis, and she began to slowly squeeze the throbbing shaft with slow-pulsing pressure. Every sinew in the man's powerful body suddenly went rigid, every sweat-glistening muscle leaped into quivering flexation.
"Ar-rrrrrr, ggg-ggggug" came the muffled sound of his voice as he cried out in tormented urgency.
His whole body shivered, and it was obvious that h Ëe was about to explode his seed into Amelia's mouth. Quickly as a striking snake, her hand slipped down to cup his heavy scrotum. Then she squeezed, hard!
"You don't come until I'm ready for you to come!" Amelia commanded him. "You don't do ANYTHING until I say you can! Have you got that?" she demanded in a lazy, taunting voice.
"Huh-hhh, nn-nnnn," came the whimpering sound from between her powerfully clamping legs. It was the sound of a totally beaten man; a man who has met his mistress, and knows it!
And then she flipped him over, crawled atop his unresisting body, and carefully slid the still-solid length of his cock into her moist cavern of desire. She worked him, sliding up and down on his shaft until her own breath was coming in gasps and her sounds of pleasure filled the wrecked room. Finally, after "wrestling" his penis for another minute or so deep within the spasming grip of her cunt, she gave a deep moan and felt her big muscular body shudder in its own explosive series of orgasms. Only then did the glorious Amazon release Anthony.
Amelia had taken him, outwrestled him both physically and sexually! It was something that she just had to do, once in her life. The Amazon in her had emerged from hiding, emerged victorious in a battle of the sexes. The young lawyer . . . well, the day after their titanic duel he quit his job at the law firm, and moved away. Amelia never saw him again!
The End
Geri
www.bdsmfinder.com
It had been shortly after the unexpected death of her uncle Hugh Stone. Amelia had been working for several weeks with her uncle's crusty old attorney, accepting the transfer of the estate into her hands. One day, a young lawyer from the older attorney's office arrived at Stonehurst with some papers for her to sign. He was tall, almost inch for inch as tall as Amelia's own six-three, and quite handsome in dark, brooding, European sort of way. His name, she learned when he introduced himself, was Anthony Danko.
After working at her desk for almost half an hour, signing countless documents, Amelia felt a knot of tension in her upper back. She leaned back, raised both arms, clenched her fists, and stretched luxuriously like a tawny cat.
As she glanced up, Amelia saw that Anthony's eyes were wide with surprise, and riveted on her upraised arms. She knew exactly what he was looking at. Beneath the clinging silk fabric of the long-sleeved blouse, her biceps had flexed upward in sculptured bold relief.
They were like two baseballs; tautly rounded, hard, with etched definition. The silk seemed to soften their hard-flexed sinew ness, but it couldn't hide the obvious strength of the aroused bicep. And the handsome young lawyer seemed to be responding to that unexpected juxtaposition of sleekly feminine beauty and amazonite muscularity in a surprising manner. Anthony gave a whistle of appreciation.
"Hey, those are some guns you've got there, Miss Stone," Anthony said in a lightly bantering tone. "You must work out a lot, huh?"
For a split-second, Amelia felt a surge of anger rising within her. She was getting tired of men looking at her with hot, lusting eyes. But then, as she looked into his dark eyes and saw nothing but a sensual appreciation for what he was seeing, she quickly cooled down. There was something in this man that interested Amelia.
"So-ooo, you don't mind a little extra muscle in a woman?" Amelia murmured, brushing back a strand of her shoulder-length blonde hair.
"Not when it's so well-packaged," he replied with a grin. "I hope you don't take offense, but are you really as strong as you look?"
"Would you care to find out," Amelia purred in a soft, husky voice. "How about a little test of strength?" she asked with an impish smile.
With that, Amelia stood up and leaned over her desk, planting one elbow on the top, with her forearm raised and hand slightly curled. She gave Anthony a slow grin of silent challange, her green eyes sparkling.
"How about a little arm-wrestling," she invited.
"Hey, I'd love it," Anthony laughed. Quickly shedding his jacket, he moved around to the other side of the massive desk. He placed his own elbow down, raised his hand, and let his long fingers grip hers. His eyes traveled to her arm, wishing that it wasn't concealed by the long sleeves so that he could see the ripple and play of her sleekly sculpted female musculature.
As if reading his mind, Amelia reached up with her other hand and began to slowly roll up the sleeve of her silken blouse, exposing her sun bronzed arm to Anthony's eager gaze. Just for fun, Amelia flexed her bicep and sent it flexing up and down a couple of time. Anthony felt a shiver of excitement scamper along his spine as his eyes took in the sight of that sinuous movement along her upper arm. GAWD! She was something else . . . and she seemed to read him like a book, Anthony mused. That began to bother him just a bit!
"Are you ready?" she asked. He nodded. Then, without warning, her fingers crushed inward against his, and she began levering his arm down to the desk. But he put his own strength to work, and stopped the downward movement of their arms. For a couple of seconds they were in stalemate, neither able to lever the other's arm down. Then, slowly but surely, Anthony pressed Amelia's arm flat down against the desk with almost arrogant ease.
"Wow! You're good!" Amelia exclaimed, a gleam of interest in her jade-green eyes. It was the first time in years that any man had been able to defeat her at wrist-wrestling, and she was impressed. Amelia also felt a tell-tale tingling in her loins. This man was turning her on!
The contest of strength had even further excited Anthony. It showed in his heavy-lidded eyes and the quickening of his breath. He reached out with one hand, forefinger extended, and traced the smooth bulge of her bicep. His fingers slid around the ball-like muscle, discovering that he couldn't reach even half way around that splendidly arched bicep. Then, to the accompaniment of Amelia's sharp intake of breath, his fingers trailed over and along the under slope of one jutting breast.
He moved against her, folding her almost roughly into his arms. For a split-second she fought him, then his lips were kissing hers; hungry, demanding, penetrating, and she melted against his hard body. The hands grasping her own sleekly muscled shoulders were like iron. Anthony was as physically strong as any man she'd ever known. Amelia didn't doubt that he was also used to having his own way. Hm-mm, well we shall see about that, Amelia thought to herself.
Amelia realized with a start that she was as aroused as he was. She ran her hands down his sides, then reaching around to caress his powerful back, feeling the shifting play of heavy platelike bands of male sinew. Then her eager fingers reached down to cup his taut buttocks, one hard half-globe in each hand. It was like squeezing a pair of rubber beach balls. Meanwhile, Amelia was busy taking in the subtle signals being made by his lips and flickering tongue.
The very harshness of his kiss was revealing. Amelia could tell that he was trying to communicate something to her. The subtle confessions of lips, of sighs, of strongly gripping fingers; all of these signals were saying one thing, that he enjoyed pain! If that was the case, Amelia thought to herself, then he probably also secretly enjoyed being dominated by a powerful female. And that was right up her alley!
Unlike most women, Amelia was unusually confident about her sexuality. The majority of women need a man to be aggressive and dominant, to sweep them off their feet. It's their way of being assured that they are desired. These women don't like their men to be sexually passive, because they are not comfortable in taking the lead. Amelia Stone, however, was far from being the stereotypical female of the species . . . . she demanded to take the lead! She had a bold sexual appetite, and believed in taking what she wanted. She liked being in charge. For Amelia, that meant taking an active role in foreplay, letting her partner know what SHE wanted and when.
Some men, especially those who project a super-macho image, secretly delight in not having to orchestrate sex. In those instances when they are forced to become submissive by a powerfully dominant and aggressive female, they can relax and enjoy not having to GIVE the woman an orgasm. They can receive the attention of a woman who aggressively wants to turn them on, instead of having to always be the sexual initiator. Then, too, there are a lot of rich and powerful men who need a dose of pain and debasement every now and then. And this was exactly what Anthony Danko seemed to be communicating to Amelia right now.
Like most men, Anthony could not admit to a woman that he wanted to be "handled." So the handsome young lawyer resorted to a macho physical domination of a woman, just to make certain that the woman didn't get the idea that he was whimpy or something! But Anthony secretly hoped that the woman would fight back and prove her own female strength, and that she was capable of dominating HIM! If this was indeed his game, Amelia mused, then he'd picked the right player!
As a test, Amelia snaked one bare bronzed arm around his neck and pulled Anthony roughly to her. He tried to draw back, but she had him locked in the muscular vise of her bicep and forearm and he couldn't move. Her lips crushed down upon his; her tongue inserted between his teeth, flickering, probing, engaging and jousting . . . stoking his passion into a raging inferno of desire. Amelia reached down and slid one hand under the waistband of his trousers. She didn't have to search. His cock, already thick with-need, bulged against the front of his shorts. She gripped his veined shaft with her fingers and began to squeeze; a slow, strong, rhythmic pressure that brought a hot gasp of pleasure from his lips.
Meantime, Anthony's fingers were working with the buttons on her silken blouse. He fumbled with one buttom, and with a growl of impatience ripped the blouse away from her splendid upper torso. Without the silk blouse, her breasts were revealed in all their ripe, melon-solid magnificence. The beauty of her strong, sleek body took his breath away. Then, a second later, he stripped her nude.
Amelia released her hold around his neck, bringing her hands down to work at the buttons on Anthony's shirt. She slowly stripped his clothing from him, taking her time, enjoying the sight of his naked steel-sinewed upper torso. Anthony's deep-chested, broad- shouldered masculinity brought a gleam of pleasure to Amelia's eyes.
Once again Anthony folded Amelia into his arms, tightening them strongly around her back until she could hardly catch her breath.
They stood there, pressed hard against one another, their lips locked and tongues jousting. His hot, hard penis stood straight up between their bodies, pressing against the delicious flatness of her supple belly. A cry escaped Amelia's lips, as she suddenly felt a finger exploring the private places between her legs. Anthony discovered that she was already wet with need.
"Mmm-mmm," she murmured in his ear. " yes-sssssss, NOW! I want to do it now!" she commanded him breathlessly.
Without a word, Anthony took her down to the thickly carpeted floor and covered her with his weight. True to form, his hands grabbed both of her wrists, spread-eagled her arms, and pinned them to the floor. It was Anthony's way of asking . . . "OK, are you going to let me get away with this, or will you fight me?" At that moment Anthony Danko, the macho young lawyer, was ripe for the picking. He was giving the signal that Amelia had been waiting for ever since his fingers had first slid around her hard-flexed bicep, and then her breast. He was ready!
Ah-hhhh, with that silent signal Amelia Stone knew that she had the handsome young lawyer just where she wanted him.
Her sun bronzed thighs snaked up and around his hips, her solidly sinewy calves clamped across his lower back, slim ankles twined and locked. And then she began to squeeze him within the bondage of her sun bronzed, superbly muscled legs!
Anthony gave a sharp gasp of pain, and tried to roll away from Amelia.
But with a quick shake of her long legs, she brought him back under control. She fought against the grip of his hands around her wrists, making the etched muscles in her arms and shoulders writhe and ripple. After a moment or two, she was able to work free of his grip. Immediately, one arm came up under his left armpit, while her other hand slid across his right shoulder. Her hands clasped together behind his neck, fingers entwining. And, suddenly, Anthony realized that he could not move. Her tightly applied holds had left the young man totally immobilized. She was now the aggressor, like some glorious Amazon, completely in control of what was now taking place on that thickly carpeted floor. Amelia had turned the tables.
No longer was what they were doing merely foreplay to love-making. Instead, it was something far more elemental, far more primordial. It was an Amazonite impulse to test the strength of a potential sexual partner that had seized Amelia. It was natural selection at work, the female of the species demanding to choose only the strongest male as "breeding stock". And while she could not hope for an easy victory, Amelia found herself caught up in a delicious urgency to subdue this arrogant young male's strength, and make him completely submissive to her female domination.
But Amelia was under no misconception as to what would happen if she couldn't make the young lawyer submit to her Amazonian strength. He might enjoy pain, but Amelia didn't! For Amelia, this wasn't about inflicting pain, it was about domination and subjugation!
And if the truth were known, this was how Amelia Stone had come to most enjoy her sexual pleasure - with her being totally in physical control of the male, dominating him like some fabled Amazon!
On the other hand, Anthony was caught up in a frenzied mood that seemed to demand that he challange the full extent of the exciting female strength possessed by this magnificent young woman. Despite his natural male need to be the aggressor, the young lawyer discovered that he was strangely hungry to be overcome by this beautiful woman, to be subdued by this superbly muscled female . . . . if she could! One thing was certain; Anthony had never met a woman he couldn't control, either by his imposing physical presence, or by pain! But some mysterious, deeply hidden, age-old wisdom now scratched at his mind with desperate fingers . . . trying to focus his attention on the real possibility that THIS woman might be able to tame him, to vanquish him with her powerful female strength. And that possibility excited Anthony beyond anything he'd ever experienced! Thus, on that thick carpet they strove to see who would emerge victorious in their strange test of strength - male against female!
For nearly an hour, they intwined their powerful limbs in grips and holds that seemed to defy description. Amelia's wrestling prowess proved to be superior to Anthony's from the first few moments of their encounter. He was far stronger than she, but he discovered that he could not really bring his physical superiority into play. The woman was able to tie him up in one hold after the other, always keeping him tightly imprisoned within the satiny bondage of her muscular arms and splendidly sinewy thighs. His male strength was useless.
As they rolled slowly back and forth across the room, silent except for the gasps of their labored breathing and occasional moans of pain, they knocked over chairs and toppled lamps. Had anyone looked in on them, they would have assumed that they were fighting a battle to the death. But this was not the case at all. For all of the savage fierceness of their wrestling, neither was being subjected to injury. Pain was present from time to time, but it was well within the parameters of what to Amelia's mind constituted all-out "erotic combat."
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Amelia and Anthony had reached a point of what appeared to be a stalemate. They lay there on the thickly carpeted floor, barely moving. Amelia's big body was washed with sweat, and every flexed sinew stood out in bold relief. The young Amazon was putting everything she had into this battle, and she was amazed that she had not yet subdued this man
Their two naked bodies lay locked together in what looked like the classic 69 position. His face was locked into the V of her crotch, his nose and mouth pressed firmly into the thick golden muff of her luxurious pubic hair. He could breath, but just barely. The sweet- pungent smell of her was almost overpowering . . . but that wasn't what he was paying attention to at the moment. Anthony was totally fixated on the coiled, rippling thighs that were locked around his neck, as well as the sleekly sinewy arms embracing his upper torso in a crushing bear-hug!
Her long sun bronzed arms were wrapped around his ribcage; forearms pressing with cruel pressure against his sides, hands clasped, fingers laced together, knuckles digging into his ribs. As Amelia pulled her arms tighter, strongly sculpted deltoids arched up into quivering relief, and the etched definition of her triceps leaped into view. She grunted with effort as sweat dripped off her naked body onto his.
"Mmm-mmm, arr-rrrrrrrrr" came the sound of his feeble cries from within the prison of her sweat-slick legs. His fists beat a tattoo on the thick carpet, and his feet kicked slowly, evidencing his desire to yield to Amelia's magnificent Amazon strength. But still Amelia squeezed her muscular thighs together. He was a prisoner locked in that sleek bondage of female flesh and sinew and she wasn't ready to release him.
The strain of effort which showed in Amelia's beautiful face eased to a mere frown of concentration as she listened to his silent pleas for mercy. She was certain that he was beaten, both physically and emotionally. But it wasn't over yet, not until she had elicited his acceptance of her Amazon superiority over him.
"Do you surrender . . . do you yield to me?" she demanded.
"Mufffff-ffff" came his reply from between her muscular legs. Amelia took that as an affirmative answer, but she wasn't finished yet. There was only one way to assure his total subjugations, and that was to master him sexually. That would be the ultimate Amazonian victory
With a grunt of effort, Amelia flipped him over until he was laying backwards on top of her big body, his head still locked between her thighs. She slid upward along his body, inching herself into proper position. Then Amelia very slowly lifted her head up between his trembling, wide-spread legs!
For a moment, she buried her face into the thickly matted hair that swirled around his heavily veined cock. She drank in the scent of him, felt the thickness of his member against her face. and then she opened her lips and took his big, rock-hard penis into her mouth.
For a second or two she sucked on him, nibbling gently with her lips, nipping into the resilient man-flesh with her teeth. He groaned with a mixture of pleasure and pain, both equally delicious. His long legs tried to scissor around Amelia's head, but a none-too- gentle jerk on his throbbing penis made him loosen them quickly. Anthony tried to pull his head free of Amelia's thighs, but she gave them a quick shake and a squeeze, and he promptly quit fighting. The young Amazon wasn't ready to release him yet, she had other plans.
Her long fingers circled around the base of his extended penis, and she began to slowly squeeze the throbbing shaft with slow-pulsing pressure. Every sinew in the man's powerful body suddenly went rigid, every sweat-glistening muscle leaped into quivering flexation.
"Ar-rrrrrr, ggg-ggggug" came the muffled sound of his voice as he cried out in tormented urgency.
His whole body shivered, and it was obvious that h Ëe was about to explode his seed into Amelia's mouth. Quickly as a striking snake, her hand slipped down to cup his heavy scrotum. Then she squeezed, hard!
"You don't come until I'm ready for you to come!" Amelia commanded him. "You don't do ANYTHING until I say you can! Have you got that?" she demanded in a lazy, taunting voice.
"Huh-hhh, nn-nnnn," came the whimpering sound from between her powerfully clamping legs. It was the sound of a totally beaten man; a man who has met his mistress, and knows it!
And then she flipped him over, crawled atop his unresisting body, and carefully slid the still-solid length of his cock into her moist cavern of desire. She worked him, sliding up and down on his shaft until her own breath was coming in gasps and her sounds of pleasure filled the wrecked room. Finally, after "wrestling" his penis for another minute or so deep within the spasming grip of her cunt, she gave a deep moan and felt her big muscular body shudder in its own explosive series of orgasms. Only then did the glorious Amazon release Anthony.
Amelia had taken him, outwrestled him both physically and sexually! It was something that she just had to do, once in her life. The Amazon in her had emerged from hiding, emerged victorious in a battle of the sexes. The young lawyer . . . well, the day after their titanic duel he quit his job at the law firm, and moved away. Amelia never saw him again!
The End
Geri
www.bdsmfinder.com
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