Showing posts with label bbw. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bbw. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 2, 2022

Real Work Wife Mixed Wrestling

I knew I shouldn’t be checking my book sales at work, but my curiosity had gotten the better of me. I was really proud of my latest one, a mixed wrestling book called Work Wife Mixed Wrestling, and I figured a quick little peek at the sales dashboard wouldn’t hurt.

That was, of course, the moment my real-life work wife Sharyn picked to walk into my cube. I almost jumped out of my skin at her “Rob?”, minimizing the browser and turning around to face her. “What are you looking at?”

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“That tab you didn’t want me to see.”

“Uhhhhh-” Oh, shit. Oh, shit. 

“Looked like you’re selling books?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, cool. What kind of books are you selling?”

“Ummm…. sports,” I tried. I mean, wrestling’s a sport.

“Sports.” She wasn’t buying it. “Did you know you’re turning hot pink right now?”

“Sharyn-”

“I wanna read one of your books.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I muttered. 

“Oh, why not? Something you don’t want me to see? I’m pretty sure I saw your author name, I can just go home and-”

“Okay!” I admitted defeat. “Okay. I’ll send you a coupon code. But don’t read it at work. I’m not responsible if you hate it!”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” she grinned. “Oh - and the reason I came in here.” She handed me a card to sign for a co-worker who was leaving for a state job for me to sign. I scribbled my name and handed it back, already thinking about which book to send Sharyn.


When I got home I just bit the bullet and sent her a copy of Work Wife Mixed Wrestling. Sharyn’s a very smart woman, and she was going to find it sooner or later, I figured - might as well get it all out there now. I guess I was a little curious what she’d think, as well. I had to admit I had kind of cribbed my fictional work wife in the book, Lissa, from my real work wife, Sharyn. I’d taken her measurements exactly - 5’9”, very curvy figure - but then made her white and blonde to cover my tracks. In real life Sharyn is a beautiful black woman in her mid 20’s with a smile that could light up a room.


The next day Sharyn came into my cube right at 9 AM: “Why did you make me white?”

“Good morning, Sharyn.”

“Yeah, good morning. You changed my name. And why am I white?”

“Well, it’s not really you in the book-”

“Why not?! I’m your work wife!”

“It’s fiction! Besides, it’s creepy putting a real person in a book, don’t you think? How would you feel if you opened it up and here’s Sharyn engaging in sex wrestling without me asking you first?”

“Flattered!” 


It’s fair to say I was totally puzzled by this reaction, but I guess it could have been worse. Sharyn pressed right on:  “Well, you can fix it in the sequel.”

“Sequel?”

“Yeah, Lissa, whatever her name is can get fired, then Sharyn gets hired-”

“Err, I wasn’t planning on a sequel, actually.”

“Why not? The last line is a sequel hook, isn’t it?”

“Um, I guess... I kind of just left that in there in case,” I stammered. “Err, the story’s kind of over, isn’t it? You know, a nice satisfying conclusion for everyone.”

I’m not satisfied!” Sharyn simmered. “And I’m the reader! You have to keep the reader happy!”

“You got the book for free!”

“That’s not the point, Rob! Look, do you need some inspiration, is that it?”

“What?”

“Well, look, in the book, Lissa learns how to wrestle, right?”

“I mean, yeah. But I implied it took a while-”

“That’s fine. You probably don’t want to push a sequel out immediately anyway, tease the reader a little bit. So, I booked us for lessons at-”

“What?!” 

“Oh, do you already know how to wrestle? Well, maybe I can get a refund. So-”

“Sharyn,” I held up my hands, “Sharyn, stop. Slow down. You did what?


Sharyn had a habit of going a mile a minute when she got excited, and she was currently very excited. I sat there stunned as she outlined her plan for us to have a real wrestling match, which would, in her mind, serve as the basis for a sequel featuring her. In the published book, the winner had their way sexually with the loser, and I couldn’t help but make sure she really knew what she was getting into:


“Sharyn, look, are you sure you want to do this? Remember the stakes in the book?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“So if you lose-?”

“Well, I’m prepared, but I bet I’m not going to lose,” she grinned. “I know all your secrets now. You wrote what you like, right?”


This wasn’t 100% accurate. There was a bit more, uh, anal femdom in the book than I think I really enjoyed in real life. Should I tell her? On the one hand, if she went to that stuff, it might give me an edge and help me not finish. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go through what the hero in the book had endured. 


Before I could decide on this, Sharyn had pressed on. Assuming that I was going to agree, she’d already paid for a full course in wrestling for the both of us, as well as setting up a place and time two months out, picking out outfits for us both, and coming up with a safeword (the same one from the book). I have to admit she thought of everything, and I found myself without any objections. In fact, as it dawned on me that we were really going to do this, I started getting excited myself.


At least until Sharyn got into the notes she’d taken: “Now, let’s see. You wrote that your work wife is, uh,” she pulled out her phone and read off the screen,  “‘50 pounds overweight’. I think you can put that more flatteringly next time, don’t you? How about, ‘a beautiful curvy figure’? You can talk about her shape more in the sequel. Some super banging titties. Do you want to write this down?”

“I won’t forget ‘super banging titties’.”

“Okay, because I’m going to see if that shows up. Now real boobs that big have a kind of natural teardrop shape, you know? You could mention that. And how about her butt? There’s different kinds of butt shapes too. For Sharyn, I’d be picturing a curvy, rounded kind of ass. Right? You sure you don’t want to write this down?”


I got my pen and notepad and the rest of the morning was spent writing down her feedback, after which we got back to work. It was hard to concentrate knowing what we were going to be doing. In the book I had written that time seemed to pass both slowly and too fast during training, and that was true of the next two months as I learned how to actually wrestle and started getting in shape. Sharyn didn’t help by coming by two or three times a week to ask how training was going and tease me about how she was going to whoop my ass and fire up my imagination.


Finally the night arrived and here we were in the middle of a half-size ring in a private room at a downtown gym. I was wearing the outfit Sharyn had picked out for me, navy blue trunks, while she was sporting the same outfit in real life my fake work wife had in the book - a size 16 Tall bubblegum pink one-piece she filled out very nicely. 


Now let me check my notes here: Sharyn has a beautiful curvy figure with large, natural, teardrop-shaped super banging titties, as I found out later topped with thick, dark nipples over a soft, full belly. In back she has a curvy, round ass, most of it on display as the back of her suit disappeared between her buttcheeks. She must have been wearing contacts as her usual thick glasses were gone, and her hair was in thick dreadlocks down past her shoulders. She has a round face, dark eyes, a wide nose and full lips, currently set into a wide smile.


“Well, what do you think?” Sharyn asked, posing, flexing her big arms. 

“You look amazing.”

“Thanks. Wait until you see me without the suit,” she winked. “Well, are we ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Okay, ding ding ding!” Sharyn yelled and the match was on. She held her hands up and offered me a lockup. I accepted and quickly found out that Sharyn was just as strong as I expected - a little bit stronger, in fact, than me. She began working that little bit hard, her muscles standing out against her dark skin as she growled with effort, trying to force me down. 


“Get down there!” Sharyn panted at me. “On your knees in front of me!” 

I didn’t bother responding, putting all of my effort into my losing battle to stay standing. My opponent grinned savagely down at me as she managed to get me into a kneel, then kept going, pushing me over on my back, sitting down on my stomach, pinning my wrists to the wrestling mat.


“Got you,” she crowed. “Guess we know who’s stronger! Put this in the book!” 

“Okay,” I gasped, trying and failing to unseat her by pushing up off the mat. Sharyn grinned down at me, clearly enjoying her commanding position.

“C’mon, move me off,” she ordered, the smug smile on her face letting me know she thought I couldn’t do it.


Unfortunately, she was right. I tried rocking her off to the side, I tried pressing straight up, but she didn’t budge. I tried to lift my hands off the mat, but she kept them pinned. I tried to lean my legs up and get my feet into her armpits, but she was sitting too far down.


“You got me,” I finally admitted with a defeated sigh. I had hoped Sharyn might now let me up. Instead, she scooted up and leaned down, the overhead lights disappearing behind her as she applied a titsmother. 


I took a deep breath in the second I had between realizing what she was doing and the hold being applied, and I needed it right away. No matter which way I turned there was only suffocating darkness and the smooth softness of Sharyn’s swimsuit. 


I resumed struggling, hoping that perhaps the threat of dying between Sharyn’s tits would give me some kind of desperate strength that would let me throw her off. It didn’t; if anything the lack of air made me weaker, and Sharyn didn’t budge as I frantically pushed against her.


She leaned up before I passed out, and I took in a huge breath, eagerly sucking down air as my victorious opponent stared down at me. 

“C’mon, Rob, this is too easy. You’re not done already, are you?”

“Just catching my breath,” I gasped.

“Yeah, and then what? You can’t get me off you.”

“Let me try again.”

“No, I think you need a little extra motivation. Here,  I know what’ll get you going.” With that she released my wrists, her eyes fixed on mine as she reached up and took down the straps on her suit, peeling it down to her stomach, her breasts flopping free, her dark nipples hard with excitement. 


“There,” she grabbed my wrists again, “now if you can’t get out this time, you’re going under to a naked titsmother. I bet your struggling will feel great against my tits!” With that she started lowering herself again.

“Sharyn, wait!” I squealed. 

“What?” she asked, stopping for a second, her heavy tits hanging just over me. “I’m gonna put you out unless you escape or say the safe word.”

“Okay, but if you just knock me out, that doesn’t give me a lot of material for the sequel,” I pleaded. I could see the gears turning in her mind.

“Yeah, all right,” she agreed. “But I’m also not just gonna let you up.”

“Let me suck on your tits.”

“Gee, Rob,” she grinned, “you talked me into it!” She lowered herself a little bit, dragging her left nipple over my mouth. I got it between my lips, running my tongue over it, rewarded by a deep, happy moan from my opponent.


We spent a pleasant few moments like this, Sharyn switching breasts occasionally, letting me worship her hanging breasts, eventually starting to squirm on top of me. Finally, she leaned up, breaking contact.


“So, will you let me up now?” I asked hopefully.

“All right,” Sharyn agreed. “You earned it.” 


With that she got off me. I stood up and we squared off, circling each other. I tried not to stare at my opponent’s bare breasts, shiny with my spit. Or could I use that to my advantage? I made a show of staring, practically slobbering at the sight as we closed up, making an obvious grab at her tits.


Sharyn attempted to intercept me, reaching for my wrists, caught totally by surprise as I faked her out, instead going high, grabbing her shoulders and administering a simple bodyslam, lifting my opponent up, then bringing her down heavily on her back.


Oof!” Sharyn grunted as her back hit the mat. I pressed the attack, dropping an elbow into her soft stomach. I had practiced this move in training and executed it well here, the hard tip smashing into my opponent’s belly so hard Sharyn sat up for a second from the impact before flopping back over, moaning, covering the impact spot with both hands, temporarily helpless.


I grabbed Sharyn’s suit, pulling it down off her hips. She made a belated grab for it, too late as I got it all the way down her legs and off, leaving her bare ass naked. It dawned on me that this may have been a mistake as she got to her feet, having had a moment to catch her breath.


Well, too late now. I raised my hands again, but Sharyn just raised her eyebrows, hands on her hips: “What do you think?”

“You look great.”

“Better without the suit, right?”

“Definitely,” I nodded, watching her shoulders and hands, trying to figure out what she was up to. 

“Now you wanna take yours off, or do you want me to come and get it?”

“Come get it.”

“You sure?” she began edging towards me. “Might be easier for you to just give it up. I’m not gonna be gentle.”

“I’m sure.” My instinct was to back up as Sharyn came close, but I fought it, waiting until she was in range and lunging at her, trying to grab her.


Of course, this was exactly what my opponent was waiting for. She weaved to the side, then lifted her knee into my oncoming stomach. The force of my own charge was used against me as her kneecap smashed into my belly.


I stumbled backwards, hunched over, momentarily defenseless. Sharyn came right after me, only avoiding my stomach I think because I was shielding it, instead grabbing my head, turning her back to me, fitting her right shoulder under my chin and throwing herself down to the mat, landing on her butt. 


I came with her, my jaw cracking into her shoulder with such force I bounced off, landing on my back, moaning. I rubbed my jaw, deciding it wasn’t broken, then looked up to see my opponent on her knees next to me.


“Told you,” Sharyn informed me as she grabbed my waistband. Now it was me reaching too slow for my suit as she yanked it off, my half-hard cock springing into view. Sharyn reached for it with a grin, but I intercepted her, grabbing her wrists. 


“Wasting your time,” Sharyn grunted. She turned out to be right - I’d forgotten that she was stronger than me, and although it was a struggle, she reached her goal, her warm right hand wrapping around my shaft, her strong left cupping my balls. 


“Relax,” Sharyn ordered. “Lay back, hands at your sides.” She punctuated her command with a hard ball squeeze, and before I knew it I was obeying, laying flat on my back, hands obediently at my sides. “There we go,” my opponent purred as she eased off. 


“I think I got you now, Rob,” my opponent told me as she started jerking me off. 

“No,” I moaned, although I didn’t know who I thought I was fooling. 

“No? I got your balls, I got your nice juicy cock,” she paused as I gasped at the wonderful feeling of her hand sliding down my shaft, “that’s right. Rob’s finished, huh?”


I didn’t respond, instead testing what Sharyn would let me get away with. It wasn’t much; thrusting my hips up or moving my legs a little she’d allow, but any attempt to move my hands or sit up quickly brought on a punishing ball squeeze, so much burning pain erupting from my vulnerable nuts that I was left helpless.


So I let her jerk me off for a while. She was good, and although I tried to keep an impassive face, she seemed to be able to tell what worked and what didn’t. I brought myself a little time taking the escape-stopping ball squeezes, the shooting pain drowning the pleasure out, but her right hand stroking made up for the left’s squeezing before I could come up with any way to get out of this.


“Fuck,” I panted in around frustration as she brought me closer and closer. “Fuck! Fuck!”

“Yeah, you’re feeling it, huh?” Sharyn egged me on. “I’m going to make you cum all over yourself, and then I’m gonna sit on your face. You like that, Rob?”

“No!” I gasped. We both knew I was lying. “No, I-”

“Shhhhh, just give up now. There’s nothing you can do, is there? Nothing but submit to my hand. Nothing but cum. You’re gonna cum for me,” her voice burrowed into my mind, “that’s all there is to it. Just lay there, cum, and lose.”


What choice did I have? I ran down my options again, the pleasure of Sharyn’s sexual attack and her trash talking making it harder and harder to focus. I don’t remember the exact moment I gave up, but at some point I surrendered to what was now inevitable, laying back, closing my eyes, and submitting to my opponent’s will.


True to her word, Sharyn finished me with her right hand, the left gently kneading my balls, milking my cock until I was shooting on my own stomach, trembling, helpless in her grip, entirely at her command as she worked me through a climax I hoped would never end.


Of course, it did, eventually, leaving me tired, beaten, sweaty and with a pool of my own steaming cum on my belly. Sharyn released me, totally in command as she sat on my face, her musk washing over my senses, the wet pressure of her pussy on my mouth as she started riding me. 


I lay flat on my back underneath Sharyn as she got herself off, wondering how it had come to this. I just wanted to sell some books, and here I was with my co-worker fucking my face, grinding her hips heavily down each time she rocked back and forth, her lewd moaning audible even with her thick thighs over my ears.


But as Sharyn went on my post-nut clarity faded. Even with the rough treatment she was giving me, as she approached her finish I could feel myself starting to get hard again. Maybe it was the experience of being completely under her control, the intense eroticism of her wet pussy making very intimate contact with my face, or just my refractory period wearing off, but by the time she was climaxing on top of me, I was ready for round two.


Sharyn rolled off, onto her back, taking a minute to recover from her own climax. I thought about jumping her, but after all this wasn’t a very gentlemanly thing to do. I didn’t have long to wait as Sharyn opened her eyes, laying on her right side and grinning at me.


“You know, Rob, I forgot to count you out.”

“Well, I guess we’d better keep going.”

“Yeah,” she leered, slowly getting to her feet as I rose to meet her. We faced off, both of us moving slower now, our climaxes having sapped our energy. “So, you got some sequel ideas now?”

“One or two.”

“One or two! All right, let’s step it up!”


Sharyn came in making a grab at my dick so obvious I couldn’t believe it was real. I stood there, hands at the ready, waiting for her to pull back and unleash her real attack, only realizing this was it and I’d fallen for it as her hand wrapped around my cock.


Sharyn used my shaft as a lever, lifting me straight up over her head in what I can only describe as a penis suplex, bringing me down to the mat back-first. I landed hard, the wind knocked out of me at the impact. 


Sharyn got on her knees on my right side, pulling me so that I was laying on her lap, her heavy breasts hanging down in front of my face. She lowered her left nipple to my lips, and I took it into my mouth without a thought, eagerly nursing as she grabbed my cock with her right hand, rubbing my shaft teasingly.


“Yeah, Rob, you just lay there and lose again,” Sharyn purred. “I wanna see this scene in the sequel, you understand?” 

“Mfffffmf,” I agreed into her breast, reaching up to knead her ignored right tit. 


This felt great, but I had too much energy to just submit to this treatment. I let Sharyn play with my cock for a minute, sucking on her nipple just until I’d recovered enough to escape. Getting away was easy; I just rolled out of Sharyn’s lap, her attempt to grab me far too slow as I rolled up to my feet.


Sharyn got up as well and came right at me, once again reaching right for my bobbing unit. This time I knew it wasn’t a fakeout and intercepted her, grabbing the wrist on her reaching right hand, smoothly spinning behind her, turning my grip on her arm into a hammerlock. Sharyn squealed as I pulled her arm as far up her back as it would go, bending over in front of me, giving me a spectacular view of her fat, naked, sweaty ass-


Focus! I eased up on the hammerlock, pulling Sharyn back up standing, only applying a little pressure to keep her from trying to escape. I leaned forward to whisper in her ear: “Be a good girl and don’t try to get away.”


Of course she did. I let her try, wrenching her arm up her back with each escape. Two or three applications of this was enough to convince her there was no way out:  “All right, you got me,” she conceded. “Now what are you going to do with me?”


My answer was to reach around her body with my free right hand and cup her full breast. I played with her nipple, still slick with my spit, steel-hard between my fingertips. Deciding she was warmed up already, I slid my hand down her body, over her soft tummy, then her soft pubes, between her legs. Sharyn gasped as I started teasing her pussy, lightly, flitting my fingertips up and down her entrance. 


“Fuck my thighs,” Sharyn pleaded. I ignored her, focused on getting her off, relishing her lewd moan as I made more contact with her most vulnerable spot. “Please, fuck my thighs,” she asked again, and this time when I didn’t she grabbed my wrist, trying to pull my hand away from her crotch. 


Oops. I could cinch up the hammerlock, of course, but the pain that would inflict was the opposite of the pleasure I was trying to weaken my opponent with. With no choice, I scooted forward, fitting my cock between Sharyn’s soft thighs. She released my wrist, and my hand went back to her pussy.


I’d have to be a little more aggressive now. I slipped two fingers into Sharyn, who moaned, leaning back against me as I started pumping. Even getting fingered, she had the presence of mind to grab my wrist again, and I knew what she wanted, moving my hips back and forth, gasping into her ear as I fucked her fat thighs. 


I went as slow as I thought I could get away with - it wouldn’t do to doom myself now. Luckily, this seemed to be enough for Sharyn, who kept her hand on my wrist, but didn’t apply any pressure as I eagerly fingerblasted her. I held off my secret weapon to start, just my two fingers sliding in and out as I rocked my hips back and forth, both of us moaning, locked into our sensual contest. 


As we both got closer, I waited for my moment. When it arrived I unleashed what I hoped was the finishing blow, my thumb finding Sharyn’s clit, feeling her jolt as I started rubbing it. She didn’t last too long after that, submitting fully to my sexual attack, bucking back against me, moaning, writhing, her body shaking, a howl of pleasure as she reached her peak.


I released Sharyn’s arm, and she sank slowly to her knees, then flopped over on her face in post-coital bliss. I rolled her over gently, just taking in the sight for a moment. Sharyn lay on her back, her face totally relaxed, her mouth hanging slightly open. Her big tits had slid off her body on either side, her legs slightly parted. Sharyn was helpless. I was sure I could just cover her, count three, win the match, and then do whatever I wanted with her. But… 


Maybe I’d gotten more turned on than I thought fucking her thighs. Maybe I could just have a little fun before pinning her; she wasn’t going anywhere soon, after all. I sat down on Sharyn’s stomach, a vague idea of fucking her mouth fighting with a desire to fuck her fat tits. Or I could move down and part her legs-


Sharyn decided it for me first, coming around with a huge grin: “Rob, there you are. Here’s an idea for you,” she pressed her breasts together, forming a very tempting, deep valley. “Fuck my titties.” She stared up at me expectantly for the moment it took me to give into temptation as I got into position, my cock disappearing into the warm, soft pressure between her boobs.


“Yeah, that’s it,” Sharyn egged me on as I started fucking her tits. “I’m gonna be looking out for this scene in the next book, Rob. You feeling inspired yet?”

“Yes,” I moaned, picking up speed. I really hadn’t realized how turned on I’d gotten earlier, just a little movement of my hips sparking the tension in my balls that meant I was almost there. “Fuck! Shit!


It was too much. I came, spurting in between Sharyn’s tits, cumming and cumming, the unfamiliar sensation of her warm, firm breasts overpowering everything else. I rode my climax as long as I could, until there was nothing left.


I fell off Sharyn, and the two of us lay there for a moment, catching our breath. I wasn’t fully recovered by the time my opponent leaned up to fix me with a grin:

“You know, Rob, you didn’t actually pin me.”

“I guess not,” I agreed. 

“Well, we better keep going then. Unless you’ve got enough sequel ideas now?”

“Three or four.”

“Three or four, huh.” Sharyn got up and stretched, the remains of my climax visible on the sides and bottoms of her tits. “I bet we can come up with a few more than that. C’mon, get up.”


I stood up, feeling very drained, just managing to get my hands up before Sharyn attacked. She opened with an obvious grab at my crotch. Having learned my lesson, I reached for her wrists, only to be faked out as she went high instead, grabbing my shoulders, pulling me forward and down into a kneestrike, her hard knee cap coming up and smashing into my unprepared stomach.


I stumbled backwards, all of my energy focused on not throwing up and not falling down in that order. Sharyn came after me, laying a kick into the same spot, bending me over. She pulled me forward, my head between her legs, and the next thing I knew she had picked me up off the mat, flipping me around so I was upside down, the blood rushing to my head as she held me vertical.


Well, not all the blood went to my head. Sharyn got my limp cock between her lips, teasing it with her tongue. I started getting hard, knowing I should return the attack. I grabbed her legs, managing to get my mouth close enough to her pussy to start eating her out. Our height difference made it difficult, even as I changed my grip to reach around and grab her fat ass, hoping that would do something.


This was bad. Even though I’d just cum from fucking her tits, Sharyn was so good at this, and my own angle was so awkward, I didn’t have any hope I’d be able to finish her off first. But what could I do? She was in total control. My mind was a blank trying to think of an escape; getting a vertical blowjob hadn’t been covered in training. With no other ideas I just kept going, hoping against hope my mouth could finish Sharyn before hers finished mine.


In the end, Sharyn was only doing this to get me ready for what she had planned next. I felt her spit my cock out, then had a second of pure terror as she executed the piledriver, all of my weight crashing into the top of my head as she brought me down hard to the mat. I fell out of her grip to the side, totally destroyed, unable to even beg for mercy as I lay in shock on the mat.


“Don’t move,” Sharyn panted, as if I could even if I wanted to. I laid there, sucking down air, trying to catch my breath, as Sharyn walked over to her corner. By the time I was able to roll over and sit up, she was walking back towards me, now wearing a pink leather strapon harness, a smooth matching pink dildo bobbing eagerly in front of her as she approached. Sharyn stopped right in front of me, staring down at me with a leer.


“Suck my dick,” she ordered. This was right out of the book, life imitating art. I didn’t really know what I was doing, either in the book or real life, kind of messily slobbering on her fake cock. “This is double sided,” Sharyn told me as I worked, “so I can cum from this. Or fucking you ass, Rob, that’s what’s up next if you don’t shape up!”

“I’m trying!” I moaned around her shaft, although it came out “am gahing”. 

“I’m gonna give you a countdown, because right now I’m falling asleep. Ten-”


I changed techniques, fucking Sharyn’s cock with my mouth as quick and hard as I could, spit flying messily out and down my chin, gagging as her tip touched the back of my throat. 


“Nine,” Sharyn yawned. Shit, what else could I do? I sucked as hard as I could, not knowing what sensation would translate well through the strapon.

“Eight.” Damn, this wasn’t working either. I pulled back, the strapon popping out of my mouth, grabbing it with both hands and frantically jerking it off.

“What are you doing?” Sharyn barked. “I said suck my cock!”

“It’s not working!” I squealed.

“Fine, we’ll go right to fucking your ass then. Unless you wanna say that safe word?”


Sharyn stared me down for a long second, giving me a chance to say the safe word and call it off. I didn’t. 


“All right, then it’s time,” Sharyn announced. “I wanna see all this in the sequel, right?” She grabbed my shoulders, yanking me up to my feet, spinning me around and pushing me chest-first into the corner. “Grab those ropes and hold on tight!”


I grabbed the ropes and held on tight, resting my face against the middle turnbuckle as Sharyn grabbed my hips. I felt the tip of her strapon pressing against my backdoor as I tried to relax, taking a deep breath. 


Even so I squealed as Sharyn began forcing her cock up my ass, holding on to the ropes for dear life as she finished the stroke, my squeal turning into a deep, low moan as her tip mashed into my prostate.


“How are you doing, Rob?” Sharyn asked, hilted in me. I felt her soft hand wrapping around my steel-hard cock: “Oh, you love it! Well, I know you’ve got that sequel idea now!”

“Yeah,” I gasped as Sharyn pulled her hips back, her hand slowly stroking my cock. I moaned like a bitch as she started another stroke, my ass filled with her strapon, the tip touching my prostate again, shooting a jolt of pleasure up my spine. 


“I’m going to be waiting for that sequel,” Sharyn panted as she fucked my ass. “You got it?”

“I got it!” I managed. “I got - ooh!

“That’s right, Rob!” She hammered home another stroke. “Your tight little ass is mine!” Another deep thrust that left me helpless. “Your cock is mine!” Another stroke, the hot jolt of her strapon touching my prostate, the insistent stroking of my cock. “Better see that fucking sequel, Rob!” I couldn’t even agree, my mind shutting down, only the invasive hammering of her fake cock in the back, her maddening handjob in the front. “And if I don’t, we’ll have to have a rematch!”


It was too much. I had nothing left, helpless, moaning, drooling, gasping as Sharyn dominated me beyond anything I’d experienced before. As I got close, she could tell the end was near:  “Say my name, Rob! Say my name when you cum!”

“Sharyn,” I managed to moan. “Sharyn - Sharyn! Fuck! Sharyn!


The most powerful climax I’d ever felt came over me like an onrushing wave. I felt myself start cumming and cumming, spurting onto the mat, my balls emptying in one last explosive finish until my spasming cock was left pulling from a dry well. 


Sharyn finally left off, pulling out, her hand leaving my softening cock as I came down, suddenly very tired, keenly aware of how much energy I’d expended in our wrestling match. I couldn’t stay standing, even with the help of the ropes, laying down on my chest, more tired than I could ever remember being.


“Rob,” I heard Sharyn’s voice from far away. “Rob!”

“What,” I managed, rolling over, squinting up at her.

“I didn’t finish yet,” she told me, stroking her cock. “You’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just lay there and take it,” she grinned. She gave me another minute to say the safe word. When I didn’t, she grabbed my ankles, pulling me out into the center of the mat, then laying down on top of me.


“Won’t be long,” Sharyn panted in my ear as she settled, the tip of her strapon poking up against my back door. She pushed in with a moan and started hammering my ass, hard, fast, and rough, both of us grunting, her into my ear, me into the mat. 


Sharyn wasn’t wrong about how close she was; soon I could feel her ramping up, her strokes getting shorter, her grunting louder and deeper in my ear, until her body was shaking on top of mine, a climax seemingly just as powerful as the one I’d just experienced washing over her body as she finished herself off fucking my ass.


Sharyn came to a stop, still laying on me, still hilted inside of me, just breathing. We lay there for a few moments that were more comfortable than I would have guessed I could be while still getting pegged, until with a sigh she rolled off me.


“You all right, Rob? How’s your ass?”

“Little sore.”

“I bet. Well,” she sat up slowly, “I don’t know about you, but I really need a shower. C’mon, I bet we can both fit in there. Do you need me to carry you to the back?”

“I think I got it,” I groaned, slowly climbing to my feet. As it turned out, we both did fit in the shower. 


Monday morning I was wondering if it was going to be odd talking to Sharyn after everything we’d been through, but when she bustled into my cube at 9 AM it was like nothing had happened. At least until she pulled out a legal pad with handwritten notes on it: “Now I was looking at your Patreon, and I think you could pull more in if you set up more tiers. The three dollar tier-”

I sighed and sat back in my chair, getting ready to take some notes.

Friday, July 9, 2021

Black Widow Back Alley Beating

My wife was practically vibrating with excitement as the Marvel logo started playing. Black Widow was her favorite movie character, and it was fair to say she was pumped for the solo movie. She was so amped she had mindlessly eaten half of our shared medium popcorn during the previews, depositing a small mountain of used napkins on my lap.

Jo was being careful with her outfit, a screen-perfect replica of Black Widow’s Iron Man 2 black leather catsuit, unzipped a bit in the front to show off some cleavage. She filled it out quite well, in great shape from biking several miles a day - it was almost a crime to cover her ripped abs, arms and legs up with the catsuit, but it did show off her big, round ass in the back, and her thick, strong legs and C-cups in the front. She’d gotten quite a few looks on the way into the movie, and they definitely all weren’t for the massive replica Infinity Gauntlet on her left arm.

She had matched Black Widow’s hair as well, a curly waterfall of dark red down past her shoulders; her dark roots had come in a little bit, but she’d just had it touched up for the movie. Of course, her face didn’t really look like Scarlett Johannsen’s; my wife has dark eyes, a flat, wide nose, full lips, and a narrower face than the real Black Widow, not to mention beautiful black skin. (She enjoyed the surprise sometimes caused when someone saw her in full costume from behind and didn’t notice her skin color, which was only visible on her hands; when she turned around and they saw how dark she was, she got some interesting reactions.)


Jo reached over with her right hand (the left was still inside the huge gauntlet prop) and gave my own left hand a squeeze as the Marvel logo started up. I shifted in my Dr. Strange outfit, settling into my seat as the now almost comically long Marvel logo played. 


Before it was halfway over, a fellow movie goer had gotten out of her seat and gone in front of the screen. We were front row center, and not six feet away from us was a tall, fat lady dressed up like Harley Quinn from the terrible first Suicide Squad movie - even in the dark of the theater I could see the red and blue streaks in her blonde pigtails and what looked like a 3XL Daddy’s Little Monster 3 quarter sleeve shirt.


“Hey!” Harley screamed over the music. “Listen!” Then she started yelling spoilers for the movie. She was quickly drowned out with loud boos and jeers, but she knew what to lead with, and had half the movie spoiled. Before I knew what was happening Jo had jumped out of her seat, charged Harley, and laid her out flat with a sucker punch.


By the time the ushers got everyone seperated and the lights came up, me, my wife, and Harley were all ejected; Harley got herself a lifetime ban from the establishment, while Jo was lucky not to get arrested. At the time I didn’t feel very lucky - we were all thrown out into the alley behind the theater, and the heavy metal fire door slammed shut with a loud clang, leaving the three of us looking at each other in the hot July sun.


Harley was actually kind of cute - she had a round face, big slightly crazed blue eyes, a small nose and plump little lips adorned with sloppy lipstick, currently twisted into a huge, shit-eating grin. Jo, on the other hand, looked ready to commit murder.


“Fucking bitch,” Jo hissed. “I bet you think you’re pretty slick.”

“You have to admit it’s pretty funny,” Harley giggled.

“No, it’s not fuckin’ funny!” Jo took her gauntlet off and handed it to me without looking. “Let’s go, bitch!”

“Oh, okay,” Harley rolled her eyes. “You want to fight me? Marvel fangirls are so pathetic-”

“You’re the one wasting your day yelling spoilers in front of the fucking movie!” Jo yelled. 

“Yeah, keep your pants on. I’ll be happy to lay you out,” Harley sneered. 


The two women squared up, and it was hard not for me to be worried. Jo had some fight training - to help her get into character - and was in great shape, but the sheer size mismatch had me sweating; Jo is five four while Harley was about my height, almost six feet, and she was a large woman - wide shoulders, huge tits, and thick limbs. She looked like she could take a lot of punishment, and I just hoped Jo was going to be able to dish out enough to keep her opponent down; today already sucked, and the last thing I wanted to do after this was take my beaten wife to the hospital.


The best case scenario I could imagine was that Harley wouldn’t know how to fight at all, and as she lumbered at Jo throwing a very telegraphed slap at my wife, it looked like I might get lucky. Jo, seeing the blow coming, ducked in and slammed her fist into Harley’s stomach; the white fighter took it with a deep grunt, then sent my wife stumbling backwards with a vicious backhand.


"That all you got?" the DC fan sneered. "You're weaker than the script for Thor 2!" Harley grabbed my wife's long hair with her left hand, pulling the smaller fighter forward into her own gut punch. Jo has a very strong stomach, but she wasn’t ready for this hit and gasped, leaning against Harley; the bigger woman cruelly kneed her in the crotch, and that put my wife down on her back in the filthy alley, holding herself and moaning.


"Pathetic!" Harley spat, straddling Jo. "Thought you could at least put up a little bit of a fight!" She reached down and grabbed Jo's hair again, pulling my wife up to a sitting position; she drew her right hand back for a knockout punch, but before she could land it Jo launched a desperate uppercut between the legs.


Harley froze with a keening scream of pain; her hands flew down to cover her crotch, which provided no protection as  Jo lined up a second uppercut, and now it was Harley's turn to fall down holding herself as Jo shakily got to her feet, laying furious kicks into her larger opponent's belly and tits.


"Fucking asshole!" my wife screamed as the tip of her boot sank into Harley's soft tummy. "I'm gonna end you like the box office for Justice League ended the DC universe! Get up, bitch!" Harley rolled over, but didn't seem to be able to rise right away. Jo approached cautiously, looking to make sure her opponent didn't swing the match back in her favor with another hit to the crotch. Jo waited until Harley was sitting up, then ran in aiming a kick at her face; the blonde saw this coming and twisted out of the way, leaving my wife to barrel past her, missing the kick so badly she almost fell down.


Jo managed to stay on her feet, but by the time she stopped and turned around, her opponent had plenty of time to get up. The women squared up, fists held high. Harley attacked first, aiming a low kick at Jo’s right knee. My wife jumped back, avoiding the hit, then countered with a slap at Harley’s face, but her evasive move had put her at such long range her slap landed awkwardly, not seeming to do anything more than anger her opponent. Harley aimed another knee between my wife’s leg, but Jo foiled the attack, closing her thighs with a wide smile.


“Gonna have to do better than that!” she barked in Harley’s face. Her opponent’s response was to draw her head back and unleash a massive headbutt. For a second I was worried she'd broken my wife's nose as I heard a scary crunch of Harley's forehead smashing into my wife's face, leaving Jo reeling backwards, her eyes glassy. 


Harley, snarling, tried yet another knee lift into my wife’s crotch; this time Jo was too stunned to do anything but stand there and take it, a low, pitiful moan oozing out of her lips as her opponent’s knee smashed into her pussy. I watched in horror as Jo slowly sank down to her knees; a straight kick to the jaw put her down on her back. 


“You enjoying the view back there?” Harley laughed over her shoulder at me. “Here, watch this!” She rolled Jo over onto her chest, reaching down and unzipping her suit. The zipper came down easy enough, but pulling Jo’s arms out of the sleeves took a while, and I could see my wife starting to recover as Harley struggled to strip her. The blonde only had the suit down to my wife’s waist before Jo managed to roll over and started frantically raining slaps on her. Harley tried to keep going, but one lucky hit on her fat right breast was enough to back her off, watching as Jo climbed to her feet, looking tired and hurt but nowhere near defeated.


“C’mon, bitch,” Jo waved her opponent on. “I’m gonna end you like how Birds of Prey ended your shitty solo movies! Come on!” 


Harley came in with her eyes glued to my wife’s bare tits, reaching for Jo’s big, dark nipples; my wife sidestepped easily, snapping off a crisp side kick into her opponent’s belly. It looked like Harley didn’t know how to take a hit properly as my wife’s foot drove the wind out of the big woman’s body in a wet gasp, her eyes bugging out as she stumbled backwards. Jo came after her, grabbing one pigtail and yanking Harley’s face down into a rising fist; I could hear the impact of my wife’s knuckles from here as they smashed into the bigger woman’s mouth. Harley whimpered, weakly trying to push my wife away, getting a hard punch to the belly for her trouble.


“Finish her off!” I yelled through cupped hands. My wife stopped to shoot me a wink before turning back to her opponent, kneeing Harley hard in the gut, dropping the blonde to her knees. Jo went behind her, kneeling down and applying a strong choke, her right arm pressing against her opponent’s neck.


"Go to sleep, bitch," Jo hissed in her opponent's ear as she worked the sleeper. “Just pretend you’re watching Batman vs Superman and go to sleep!” Harley writhed frantically in my wife’s grasp; at the time I didn’t notice, but she was bracing her right shoulder under my wife’s chin. With a roar Harley managed to rise halfway off the ground, then dropped down, executing a surprise Stunner on my wife. The impact sent Jo up to her feet, then stumbling drunkenly backwards, as Harley got up and turned to face her, the blonde rubbing her neck and growling.


I could not get a grip on Harley’s fighting style; it wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen before - one minute she was throwing sloppy, awkward slaps, then she was turning the tables on my wife with expert moves like the one she had just devastated Jo with. I watched through my fingers, cringing, as Harley came in on my wife, slamming lefts and rights into my wife’s stomach. Jo at least managed to brace herself, but when the blonde saw that her hits weren’t doing much she shifted her target higher, rocking Jo back with a left hook to the jaw, then knocking her down with a big right straight to the mouth.


My wife landed hard on the dirty ground, the back of her head smacking off the hot concrete. She lay there limp as Harley finished stripping her catsuit off, leaving Jo wearing nothing but her short boots. The blonde sat down on Jo’s hips, reaching forwards and cupping her breasts.


“All right, not bad,” she admitted. “But look at these!” Harley took off her shirt, tossing it over her shoulder, then her bra, her big, pale tits tumbling free as she threw this away as well. She leaned forward, her hands resting on the ground, then slowly lowered herself down, trapping my wife’s face between her fat boobs. 


Jo started struggling, trying to push Harley off, but the blonde was too heavy to be easily moved; I could see Jo was wasting the oxygen already in her system, unable to get any more through the titsmother. I thought this might be the end as Jo appeared to give up, her arms falling to the stained concrete, her thrashing legs going slack.


“Yeah, go to sleep,” Harley cooed. “You can dream about having a character as iconic as Superman in your shitty movies!” This brought Jo to life again, slamming short punches into Harley’s sides; the blonde grunted in pain as my wife’s fists hammered her midsection, but she held on through the assault; Jo faded quickly, and I had the sinking feeling I was watching the end of the fight. 


I had to do something. I took a deep breath, cupped my hands over my mouth and yelled “Joker is just a King of Comedy ripoff!”

“What?!” Harley screamed at me over her shoulder. 

“Yeah, it was okay because it’s a copy of a better movie-”

“Hey, Dr. Limp Dick!” Harley screamed at me. “Hey, shut up!” I felt a mix of relief as she climbed off Jo and then a stab of fear as she approached me threateningly. “Your movie sucked anyway! You’re just an Inception ripoff!”

What? You’re out of your mind! Because they both have amazing special effects-”

“And Benedict Cumberbatch has a terrible American accent!” She poked me aggressively in the chest. “Look at Margo Robbie, she sounds like she’s really from Brooklyn!”

You’re out of your god damned mind!” I yelled back at her. “Wonder Woman 1984 was so bad-”

“And Joker was a masterpiece!” she poked me again. “Over a billion dollars for an R rated movie-”


Over her shoulder, I saw Jo slowly sitting up, shaking her head and panting heavily; I just had to buy her some more time. 

“You know what?” I yelled over Harley lecturing me on the global box office success of Joker. “I didn’t even like the Dark Knight movies!”

What?!” she howled. “You fucking idiot! You complete fucking buffoon!

“Heath Ledger’s performance wasn’t that great!”


Harley shoved me hard, sending me back a few steps; damn, she was strong. She followed me, shoving me again, this one putting my back up against a wall. She stepped up to me with a snarl, pressing one thick arm against my neck.

“You’re fucking next,” she hissed. “You and me now. I’m gonna-”


“Hey!” Jo screamed. Harley turned slowly in disbelief that my wife was back on her feet. “Hey!” Jo repeated, coming up to us as Harley turned away from me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jo came standing in front of us, hands on her hips, a disgusted sneer on her face. 


“Typical fucking DC fangirl,” Jo spat. “Wantin’ to eat your dessert before dinner. This is why your shared universe is dead!”

“Fuck you!” Harley screamed, her face flushing red. “Wonder Woman-”

“Oh, you got one good movie?” Jo yelled over her. “You got one good fuckin’ movie? Your cinematic universe is fucking trash! Just like you!”


That did it; Harley charged Jo, screaming “Aquaman made a billion dollars!”. My wife took a careful step back, unleashing a monster clothesline, her forearm smashing right into Harley’s windpipe. The blonde stopped dead, falling down awkwardly, holding her neck and gagging, her face turning even redder as she coughed and wheezed. She was laying on her right side, and Jo calmly went around to her front and started laying kicks into the blonde’s big stomach. Harley took two of these, then the third had enough force to push her over onto her back; Jo dropped a beautiful elbow into her opponent’s gut, driving any remaining air out of the blonde.


My wife set about stripping her opponent the rest of the way, yanking her shorts and bottoms off, leaving both women in just their footwear, Jo in her boots and Harley in her shoes and socks. The blonde managed to roll over and get up to all fours, but she still looked pretty winded; Jo sent her back to the concrete with a massive axe kick, her heel smashing into the back of Harley’s head. 


“All right, finish her off!” I yelled. I’d seen the momentum of the match swing back and forth too many times to relax until Harley was truly done. Jo nodded and left the blonde gasping on the ground, picking up one of the big garbage bins lined up against the movie theater. She grunted as she lifted it over her head; it was full, a little garbage spilling out of the top as she walked back to Harley, throwing it down on the blonde’s back with a scream.


The heavy trashcan slammed into Harley’s back, garbage scuttling out all over the ground; this put an end to the big woman’s struggling as she lay still. Jo walked up to her, reaching down to grab Harley’s red pigtail, yanking it up and pulling Harley’s face off the concrete; Jo kicked her in the face, twice, and I could see blood on the tip of her boot after the second kick. My wife released her opponent’s hair, then shifted the garbage bin off to the side; Harley still didn’t move as Jo rolled the big woman over on her back. Just to be sure, Jo gave her a vicious stomp, slamming the thick heel of her boot into Harley’s nose. 


The blonde’s only response to this was a pitiful moan; I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but it sure seemed like she was done. Jo circled her, prodding her with quick, darting kicks. Harley soaked these up, only making an abortive attempt to roll over. When she couldn’t even manage this, Jo moved in and sealed her victory with a facesit, pressing her crotch down against her beaten opponent’s mouth.


My wife waved me over, and I was relieved that my outfit was made up of upper and lower robes instead of one solid piece as she yanked my pants down to my ankles. I’d been hard almost the whole fight, and after a quick squeeze to make sure I was ready Jo started sucking my cock, her lips slowly sliding up and down my shaft as her hips worked her pussy over Harley’s face. I suppose the blonde wasn’t having a very good time as her nose might’ve been broken and was now getting jammed down by Jo’s crotch, but I’m sure she had something just as nasty planned for us if she won; she’d took her chances and lost, and if nothing else, maybe this would dissuade her from spoiling any more movies.


Jo wrapped her arms around my hips, working me over slowly; I realized she was going to try and make me cum when she did, and she had more endurance than me, even when her left hand dropped off my hips to start teasing her clit. Her lips slid back and forth with so much force and so little speed I had to fight down a powerful urge to thrust into her mouth. 


Instead, I ran my fingers through her hair; Jo loves this, and she rewarded me with a little extra treat, running her tongue over my tip. Even with her deliberate pace, she got me up to the edge pretty quick, then kept me dancing on it as she worked on getting herself off. I could hear her starting to moan louder around my cock in her mouth as she closed in on her climax, clenching my stomach to hold out as she hit her peak. 


By the time she had come down from her climax I was ready to burst, and she finished me quick, sliding back until just my tip was in her mouth, her right hand flying up and down my shaft. I held on to her as I came, my wife sucking down my sperm. She let my cock flop out of her mouth as I took a few steps back, totally spent.


Jo climbed off Harley, sliding down the blonde’s body until they were face to face, then spat my cum onto her beaten opponent’s lips and cheeks. Harley was too far gone to even react, her slack face coated in my wife’s juices and my jizz.


“How’s that, huh?” Jo yelled in Harley’s face. “What do you have to say now, bitch?” She waved me over without looking, sneering down at her beaten opponent. “Check her oil, hon.” I knelt between Harley’s legs, easing her big thighs apart and slipping a finger in easily.

“Wow, she’s pretty wet.” I didn’t know if it was the humiliation of losing the fight or Jo writhing on her face, but she was practically dripping.

“Oh, really,” Jo cackled. She gave Harley a light slap, just enough to make sure she was paying close attention. “So did you like getting your ass kicked by Black Widow, or did you like the part where I fucked your face while sucking off my man?”

“Yes,” Harley mumbled.

“Hmm, okay.” Jo climbed off her, grabbing Harley’s pigtails and roughly yanking the bigger woman up to her knees. 

“Please,” Harley started begging, staring at the ground. I winced as Jo slapped her across the face, smacking spit out of the blonde’s mouth and cum off her face: “Fucking look at me when I’m talking to you!”


“Please,” Harley tried again, her voice shaking. I could see tears in her eyes as she looked up at my triumphant wife. “Please - you won. Don’t do anything else to me.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Jo cackled. “You’re gonna do it to yourself.”

“What…?”

“Start fingering that fat pussy,” Jo hissed. “We’re all gonna watch you do yourself.”


Harley’s hands went between her legs; I could see just enough to guess she was pumping herself with one set of fingers while the other teased her clit. Jo cupped her hands under Harley’s chin, forcing the blonde to look up into her face as she masterbated. Jo started egging her on with taunts and threats:

“That’s right, fucking loser. Gonna cum looking up at the goddess who beat you down. Come on, aren’t you there yet? I know a slut like you won’t take long! Well?”

“Almost,” Harley gasped. “Almost-”

“Hurry up! Fucking finish before I fall asleep!” 

“I’m gonna- I’m- ooooooh-” the blonde’s eyes squeezed shut as she got there, her chest heaving as she howled in pleasure; Jo’s eyes bored into her as Harley’s entire body shook, then started going limp. My wife released her and Harley sank to the dirty concrete, laying on her side, panting. 


Jo rolled Harley onto her back, sat down on her stomach, and locked her hands around her victim’s neck. Harley came back to life for a second, her limbs flailing wildly; she managed one ineffective slap at Jo’s arms before the fight was literally choked out of her, her eyes rolling back in her head. Her tongue flopped out of her mouth in a torrent of drool, her body twitching uncontrollably, before she finally lay still, unconscious.


“Whew!” Jo exclaimed happily as she climbed off the blonde. “Get her clothes.” I collected Harley’s discarded clothing, including her socks and shoes, as Jo put her catsuit back on. “Think we’ll take those home to remember this by.” She walked up to me, a dazzling smile of victory on her face. “Well, what did you think? We missed the movie, but that was a pretty good show, huh?” I nodded; I wouldn’t be forgetting this any time soon. “I hope you still got some in here for me,” she purred, grabbing my balls. I nodded again and we left the alley for the long drive home and a very interesting afternoon.