Sabrina Cooper was a
beautiful, dignified, statuesque young woman of steely demeanor and determined
attitude. She was fiercely competitive and had excelled in sports at Smith
College, where she had majored in Economics and minored in Math.
She had enjoyed her time at
Smith. It was an all-girl's college, at least at the undergraduate level. It
occasionally admitted men at the graduate level, but she had rarely encountered
them. Despite the undeniable quality of the education Smith granted, it was not
considered a particularly friendly environment to men, being an extremely
feminist and progressive liberal arts college.
It had imbued her with a
confidence in herself and her abilities and a determination to never take
second place to men. Any man who belittled or patronized Sabrina would soon
feel the ice cold of her sea blue eyes, and the razor-sharp cut of her tongue.
Being largely away from men
for most of the previous four years, however, Sabrina did feel slightly out of
her element and overly defensive around them. She was constantly watching,
suspiciously waiting for a sexist or sexual remark, or an attempt to belittle
She remembered her high
school years quite well, and not with nostalgia. She had been a gawky, awkward,
buxom young woman then, and subjected to every manner of leering male insults
and behavior. She had been made to feel very self-conscious about both her
height and body, and the attention both drew from men.
Sabrina had worked her body
hard at Smith, to ensure it was in excellent condition. This was done for
reasons of health and success in sports, not for the enjoyment of male
viewership. But it had lent her long legs a particular degree
of smooth, sculpted lines which (evidently) men found fascinating.
She herself was bewildered
by this, and failed to understand why the shape of her
legs would interest anyone for any reason. Certainly, her female lovers at
Smith hadn't cared or complimented them.
She did understand the
interest in her breasts. She was generously endowed and, perhaps due to breast
feeding, or perhaps simply due to generations of pornography, the male of the
species had an infantile sexual interest in breasts, and the larger the better.
Sabrina had once done her
best to disguise the size of her chest, but being slender and lithe, with a
tiny waist, there was only so much she could do. After four years at Smith she
no longer made that attempt. Her body was fine and anyone who said anything
improper would be dealt with.
That did not mean, of
course, that she would dress in a way to depict herself in a sexually
provocative way, but nor would she hide in fear of inciting male interest.
Smith taught young women to be fearless, and Sabrina had done her best to
absorb that teaching, to walk through life with head up, shoulders back, and
chest out, and damn the consequences.
Still, she was barely twenty-one,
and was understandably anxious as she headed to work, on the first day of her
first job after graduation, at Lennox and Lewis, a corporate bank. She had
selected her outfit with great care. It consisted of long, loose black trousers
and a gray jacket over a dark blue silk blouse.
With her brown hair drawn
back from the center of her forehead, just across her ears, and then fastened
behind her in a loose tail, she gave every image of an intelligent and educated
person. The clear glasses, which she did not need to wear but wore nonetheless,
added to that image, she thought.
Perhaps they would even
help counteract the size of her breasts, for as childish and illogical as it
was, the cultural view of women who wore glasses was the opposite of those with
She made it to work without
incident, was greeted properly by her new manager, introduced to her
colleagues, and then to her cubicle, and given reading material to begin to
familiarize her with her new duties.
It was all, she was
relieved to find, entirely professional, with no one seeming to pay any real
attention to her height or, presuming they noticed, her generous chest.
She spent much of the
morning reading. She had a few brief chats with those around her, but still,
was largely isolated. She read through her coffee break, not being much of a
coffee drinker, and had lunch alone.
Lennox and Lewis had
several thousand employees, all except managers and directors and those above
them in small, high cubicles. Non-work-related conversation was actively discouraged.
It was, she soon realized, like being alone even though surrounded by people.
Soon an IT man arrived to
get her signed onto the system, then one of her colleagues, Amy, a woman twice
her girth and age and half her height, came to teach her how to find and make
use of various programs on the system and then left her to explore further on
Thus passed the afternoon.
It was a very long day, and
one which had been, for Sabrina, uncharacteristically spent in a chair with
very little movement. There was no hurrying through corridors from class to
class, from study hall to library, no leaning against the wall chatting with
her friends, and no lunch with groups of other students. Nevertheless, despite
having done little, physically, all day, she found herself to be quite tired at
the end of the day.
She was grateful to leave,
to join the mass of people on the sidewalks, trooping down into the subway,
shuffling aboard overcrowded trains, and headed back across the rivers to where
ordinary people lived.
Ordinary people rarely
lived on this island. This island was for those with six and seven figure
incomes. This island was Manhattan, and unless one went north of Central Park,
into Harlem, it was simply not a place for people like Sabrina. Brave, she might
be, but Sabrina was not that brave, so, like most other workers, she journeyed
across the river to more affordable housing.
For her, due to proximity,
that meant Queens, where she had rented a ridiculously expensive bachelorette
in a seventy-year-old, ten story apartment block. It
was ten feet by twelve feet, with a small kitchenette, a tiny bathroom with a
shower she barely fit into, and a hideaway bed in the wall.
Once she got home, she
shrugged out of her work clothes and into sweatpants and a tank top, made
dinner, then settled onto the sofa to watch TV on the flat screen attached to
the wall. After that, she simply vegged out on the computer and watched
Today had been exhausting
given her lack of physical activity. She had neither the energy nor the place
to exercise, though she felt guilty about that. She knew she had to find a way
to exercise or she'd wind up like Amy.
The next day at work she
explored the possibilities there. She was near Central Park, which left open
the possibility of doing some jogging. She had been on the track and field team
at Smith, so that seemed a natural. There were numerous gyms nearby, and the
bank had its own in the basement, along with showers and change rooms.
After due consideration,
she decided that if she skipped breakfast and most of her morning bathroom
routine and got to work early, and exercised, she could then shower there.
Perhaps she could even do a bit of running in the park after work, too, if she
found the energy.
Exercising at work did have
one danger. She would not be her poised and carefully dressed self, and that
might cause her colleagues to look at her differently. But then again, from
what she'd seen of her colleagues, none of them went near a gym. And since she
saw little of them it hardly mattered if someone who worked ten or twenty or
thirty floors away saw her in a sweaty, panting disheveled condition.
Rather than her usual eight
O'clock arrival, she walked into the building at Six Thirty. She had left
herself forty-five minutes for exercise, and the same amount of time to shower
and get ready.
She headed downstairs to
the gym, and found it, happily, largely empty. She quickly changed into yoga
pants, athletic bra and T-shirt, which she regarded as sufficiently modest, and
headed into the gym.
The first thing which
caught her eye as she entered the well-equipped room, was a man, a very large
man wearing a sleeveless T-shirt. His back was to her as he straddled the
narrow bench on one of the machines. The bar was across his startlingly powerful
shoulders, his arms stretched out, his large hands on the ends of the bar as he
squatted and rose, squatted and rose, grunting softly with effort.
Sabrina froze in place for
At Smith, she had come to
wonder if she might be gay. She had not had a great deal of comfort in her male
relationships in high school. All the boys seemed to want to do was grope her
breasts and have her give them blow jobs. Sex had been extremely awkward and
unsatisfying, and nothing like the more gentle,
tender, and more physically pleasurable sex she'd had with women at college.
But now she realized she
was certainly not gay, for the sight of the muscles moving beneath the tanned
skin of those bare arms and shoulders, not to mention the firm, deliciously
contoured buttocks within the man's shorts as he rose and squatted had her
almost literally breathless for long seconds.
Sabrina had never in her
life come into personal contact with a man this large and powerfully built
wearing so little clothing. She gulped and dropped her eyes, feeling a flush
come to her cheeks, then took a deep breath and moved around him, ignoring the
sudden thumping in her heart.
She searched out a more
familiar machine, but one which would give her a view of the front of the man,
and hurriedly turned to face him as she sat down.
She had to determinedly
drag her eyes away from him after a quick glance, but they drifted back, before
she pulled them away again to focus on starting her exercise.
He had gray eyes, a strong
jaw, full lips, and short brown hair. He looked to be somewhere within five or
six (or maybe seven) years of her, and his chest strained against his top as he
squatted and rose, again and again.
She let her eyes drop to
his bare legs.
They were very muscular,
and she felt her nipples tightening within her bra at the proximity of such an
incredible specimen of muscular male physicality! He hadn't shaved that
morning, no doubt intending to do it in the shower after exercise, and that
lent him a certain bad boy look which made her lower belly thrum with energy.
She yanked her mind away
from the image of him in the shower – naked!
She forced herself to reign
in her sudden and unfamiliar rush of sexual interest, focusing on her exercise,
on working her thigh muscles and her shoulder, arm and chest muscles. The
latter was particularly important on a woman with her size of bust, for
ensuring the muscles which kept her breasts firm – or as firm as possible - was
important to her sense of self-esteem.
But her eyes kept drifting
that way, and on one occasion they met his, and darted away as she flushed
again. Now she cursed herself for not having worn something more attractive. At
Smith she wore a leotard, not a t-shirt.
She saw him move from the
machine and go to the treadmill, where he began to walk, then jog easily, then
run smoothly. Watching him run was a thing of beauty, and she found herself
distracted several times.
She went to another of the
treadmills and started it up, walking, jogging lightly, then running, faster and
faster. She did not look at him nor knew if he looked at her. But she was
desperately aware of him.
What was his name? Where
did he work? What did he do? How could she find a way to strike up a
conversation? Sabrina was, unfortunately, not particularly adept or experienced
in male seduction. She'd certainly never had to worry about that in high
school, for the boys had been all over her.
This man, however, was not
showing much interest.
Nor were they alone in the
room, so she couldn't exactly just start talking to him! There were other
women, other men, a handful, all older, and none in anything like his shape.
She got off the treadmill
and worked her chest muscles again, doing her best to watch him without him
noticing, but then noticed the time. She gasped and headed for the showers.
The showers were unisex. That is to say, each of the small, narrow rooms had a small
shower, a sink, and a mirror. Sabrina quickly locked herself in one, stripped,
and stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain.
She soaped up quickly –
well, using shower gel rather than soap, for it was better for the skin, but it
was impossible not to think of that man. She wondered if he was in the room
next door even now, naked, soaping up!
She looked down at her body
and the hard, pointed nipples protruding from the swollen pink areolas at the
center of each breast. Her fingers spread wide and she cupped her breasts,
lifting and squeezing them together, imagining that man with his hands on her,
imagining him with his eyes on her, those somber gray eyes!
Her hand slid down her
slippery body and she gasped softly at the feel of her swollen lips as her
fingers lightly brushed up and down. The sensations this roused swept up
through her belly in a rush, and she rubbed harder, moaning low in her throat.
This, she thought, was
crazy! However breathless, however tight her chest, however aroused, she could
not be so undignified as to masturbate in a public shower at work!
She pulled her fingers away
and turned on the water, rinsing off quickly, lest the feel of her warm,
slippery skin under her fingers rouse her further.
You're at work! she told herself sternly.
And then she heard a sound, and turned as he slid the curtain fully open and
stood there, looking at her with those cool gray eyes.
Sabrina was stunned,
astonished. She stood in frozen shock at the enormity of the psychic shock of
seeing him there, filling the opening, naked! His muscular chest gave way to
the rippling washboard stomach below, then his flat, smooth abdomen and there
between his legs were his testicles and penis.
He was not erect, but
neither did he hang like a limp little noodle. His penis was sufficiently
swollen and extended downward along his thigh to make her gasp, even as it
began to thicken and harden and then rise up to point
unerringly at her belly!
He stepped past the
curtain, and there was simply not room in the little shower cubicle for the both of them. Yet he found the room somehow.
She finally jerked out of
her frozen reverie and opened her mouth to cry out, her hands rising as it to
hide her nudity, but he pushed forward, and then his lips crushed hers before
she could speak, his muscled chest pressing in firmly against her breasts!
She felt a hand behind her
neck as his mouth seemed to... to feed at hers! His body was grinding softly
against her as his other hand cupped her breast and kneaded it! Then that hand
dropped low and thrust in between her legs!
The curve of his thumb
pressed up along the line of her sex as his index finger extended down, and his
hand gently but firmly caressed her, sliding up and down, the pad of his thumb
unerringly finding her clitoris as she began to squirm in body and mind!
But she was pinned to the
wall in the tiny room, the tiles pressed against her bare back and buttocks as
his lips continued to ravish her mouth! Her hands pressed against his chest,
but to no avail as her mind was swept by wild rushes of emotions!
There was so much of him!
His chest, his arms, his shoulders, his stomach, so... so firm and hard and
muscled and powerful! He was so tall and broad of chest and wide of shoulder!
And now slick and wet as his tongue danced across her lips and teased and
taunted her own, as his lips massaged and stroked hers and his thumb rubbed
insistently against her clitoris!
This was... impossible! It
was stunning, and Sabrina felt literally stunned! She could not gather her wits
to decide on what to do, on how to respond, on what even to say, presuming she
could tear her lips away from his!
And her breasts were...
throbbing! Her nipples ached like two hot, swollen pebbles! She was breathless,
gulping in air, moaning, overwhelmed with wonder and confusion! The hand
between her legs was sending hot, swirling rushes of sensation up through her
body and into her already dazed mind as though flooding it with an intoxicating
brew of wild sensual steam.
And then, abruptly, he
dropped to his knees before her!
That, at least, released
her head and she was able to speak. Yet
all she did was stare down at him in wide eyed shock as he instead mouthed her
His entire mouth enveloped
her, and she squirmed and gasped and yelped as his tongue began to ride along
the naked line of her sex and his hands came up to clutch her buttocks!
This can't be happening!
Yet it was, and she hadn't
even spoken, nor was she able to form a coherent message to him. She had to
tell him to stop. That was it! But how!
She gasped anew as his
entire mouth seemed to suction against her, then his thumbs spread the lips of
her sex and his tongue attacked her clitoris with new vigor!
The sensation was so... raw
and powerful and intense!
Sabrina cried out, and her
hands went to his head as she threw herself backward. But she was already
against the wall, and could only squirm helplessly as
his tongue ravished her mercilessly! It swept across her swollen, burning
clitoris with ferocious speed and strength, and she found the words within her
turning to a swirling mass of heat, hunger and dazed need!
“Oh! Oh! Please! Please!”
she gasped breathlessly, her head rolling against the tiles behind her.
Her body felt feverish, her
mind gripped by a dark, thrilled heat the likes of which she could not remember
ever experiencing! This was outrageous! He was... was... attacking her! But she
could do nothing! The rush of pleasure and sexual heat was debilitating! She
felt a need like none she had ever experienced, a desperate need that could not
Then he was up again before
her, blocking out the world! His broad shoulders could barely fit between the
two tiled walls of the shower stall! An enormous hand gripped her upper arm and
jerked her forward, then around. An instant later she felt his hands gripping
her sides, her hips, and jerking them back roughly.
She gasped, crying out, her
hands going to the wall in front of her. She could feel his cock, now fully
erect, pressed against her buttocks. He moved back and
it pushed out between her thighs. Again she felt a shock, felt outrage, felt anxiety gripping
her! And again it all melted under the heat, the wild
dark thrill of his body against her!
His right hand curved over
her hip and gripped the tip of his cock while his left took hold of her hair
behind her neck.
She felt so... overpowered
and overwhelmed! He was so large, so powerful, so... male! And his warm, wet
naked flesh was pressed against hers, grinding against her so
as to make her heart pound like a drum! That should have outraged her,
should have frightened her! It did, in part. But that part was drowned out by
something like elation!
This was so amazing! So
wild! So thrilling!
He rubbed the tip of his
helmet head up and down along the hot, swollen furrow of her sex, and back and
forth across her clitoris, so that Sabrina whimpered and moaned, her hips
starting to jerk and grind instinctively.
“Please!” she gasped dazedly.
She felt his breath hot
against the nape of her neck, then his teeth nibbling, his lips pressing
gently, his tongue stroking. She gasped and moaned as he kissed her, as his
teeth chewed softly, as he sucked against her throat and shoulder while rubbing
his helmet headed cock up and down against her!
“Do you want me to fuck
you?” he asked in a soft, deep growl of a whisper.
She shuddered, feverish,
He jerked sharply and
stingingly at her hair and she cried out.
“Say it!” he barked.
“Y-yes!” she whimpered in a
small, helpless gasp.
“Spread your legs,” he
Moaning, trembling, she