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Old 21-Oct-17, 14:45
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default April 1995: Naomi

If truth be told, there was nothing that I loved more than the city of Toronto in the spring. Gone are the freezing temperatures no blustery cold of winter, allowing spring to revive new hope and invigorate the soul. So as I walked east down Front Street towards the distillery district, there was a definite lightness to my spirit and a definitive bounce in my step.

Life was good — I was living in one of the greatest cities in the world, I was working and — better yet — succeeding in my career as a real estate agent and pro basketball was on it’s way to the Big Smoke, even if the NBA had boondoggled Torontonians into a stupid mascot name that was almost universally despised. I mean seriously, what the fuck is a Raptor and — better yet — what in the name of God do dinosaurs have to do with Toronto?

I stopped at my usual sidewalk news stand to pick up the daily edition of the Star. As always, there was some grungy dude in line ahead of me, buying a pack of gum so that he could check out the Page 3 girl in "the other Toronto daily" while the owner of the stand — Henry — made change. Today’s girl was cute and a budding “fitness model”, which likely meant that she worked as a stripper at the Brass Rail, but — good on her — at least she had a dream.

“Top of the day”, greeted Henry as I plunked down exact change, “How’s The Mogul today?”

Henry was a funny man — he always called me The Mogul once I started wearing nice suits, but he knew me from the days where I was starting out and hustling in my khaki pants and K-Swiss running shoes.

“It’s a beautiful day, Henry, so I am living like a millionaire”, I responded. “I’m thinking of getting season’s tickets to this new basketball team that they’re bringing in for the fall — you going to be my wingman on opening night, buddy?”

Henry laughed, “I’m sure you’ll find some cute little thing who’ll be happy to be your date, young man. I can’t be staying out to all hours with a young gun like you. Someone has to work for a living.”

With that, I smiled and nodded my farewell. Being a real estate agent in the city was the perfect job for a guy like me. It paid REALLY well, was something that I excelled at so that I always had lots of energy for the job and it provided me with a flexible work schedule so that I could keep up with my workouts, both in the gym and doing the odd session with girls who liked to wrestle. It was a beautiful life without anything to tie me down, unless I was looking for something like that in my spare time.

My first meeting of the day was going to be a referral from another agent. They had originally made the connection, but apparently the customer didn’t get the right vibe from the other agent, a fella by the name of Dennis Haynes. He said little else about the customer other than when they realized that ol’ Dennis wasn’t a fit, they asked him to refer their business to me. I was flattered obviously and it was nice of him to pass the client along. I’d have to make sure to send some business his way in the very near future.

I arrived at the meeting site, a little place called Le Papillion on the north side of Front Street. The restaurant had a flair that I appreciated and as a haven for a number of Quebec ex pats, it had a tendency to attract a female clientele that tended to be both lovely and — often times — French. I’m a man of weaknesses, what can I say?

I ordered an Americano. My days generally started a little later, so I needed a bit of the jump that the caffeine in my coffee would get me. I was early for my appointment, but to my way of thinking, it was just good form to generally be early to any event, rather than being perpetually late to everything. If worse came to worst, at least I’d have a minute to read the paper.

The news that day was relatively par for the course of most days, politicians being political, a bit of crime and and a few opinion pieces. The only really big news was that the Major League Baseball strike had finally ended after screwing the Montreal Expos out of a legitimate shot at a World Series title the previous season. In my current location, that had been a real source of bitterness and I wondered if the relationship between MLB and their fans in Canada would ever recover.

I had moved on to the business news and was engrossed in the stock report, which required a bit of focus and made me slightly oblivious in the moment, but I remember that there was a lovely hint of perfume in the air that preceded what came next. I heard her voice from almost right behind me. It echoed from the past.


It couldn’t be…

To be continued...

Last edited by HermanDG; 22-Oct-17 at 15:43.
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Old 21-Oct-17, 15:35
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Can't wait to see those legs....
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Old 22-Oct-17, 11:20
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

…but it was. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I was sitting down, I would have been floored. It was Naomi, all grown up and standing right there in front me.

She was still lovely as ever, but the high school jockette had been replaced by a very professional looking young woman. As before, her hair, looked as though it were millions upon millions of strawberry blonde ringlets that just cascaded down around her exotic face. The eyes were still striking — green-gold gems, inlaid in a mask of flawless caramel skin. She had high cheekbones and a pert, tiny nose that might have suggested that she was a model. She was a sublime beauty to be sure.

The last time I had seen Naomi, she was half naked and unconscious, the author of her own demise and a beating laid by a blonde wildcat from another time. As she stood before me on this day, she wore a warm grey overcoat made of melton wool that looked both Italian and expensive. She was smiling warmly, which made her look even more beautiful and while it had not been an overly long time since I had seen her last, time had done well by her.

Naomi pulled up a chair and sat down to join me at my table. I was sure that my mouth was agape to the point of looking like I had an unhinged jaw.

“Since you won’t stand for a lady, I guess I’ll join you”, she said, still smiling that lovely full lipped smile. “How ya, doin’ asshole?”

My basic rule has always been “Never turn down the attention of a gorgeous woman”, but with a business appointment looming, there were a number of things that I needed to get done in a quick hurry. In no particular order those were:

• Lose the boner (okay it was the first thing that had to happen and was pretty much the reason for not standing)
• Get Naomi moving along ahead of my appointment
• Get Naomi’s number because bygones should always be bygones when a beautiful woman is involved
• Do something other than stare gape mouthed, like an orangutan at the goddess in front of me

Composing myself with panache well below a James Bond level, I stuttered, “Naomi…it’s really great seeing you…and I’m really sorry trust me….but….I actually have an appointment in a minute here….but I’d love to get together with you later — maybe drinks?”

Naomi leaned back confidently and giggled, casually crossing her legs that still seemed about a mile long. “Relax asshole, I am your appointment”, she revealed. “I need an agent and someone told me about that Haynes guy. He seemed a little douchey and when I was walking through the halls at your office, I saw your picture on the wall. I figured ‘old friend, so I’ll probably get a friends and family discount’. That’s why I asked Mr. DoucheBag to set me up with you. I figured discretion might be key to getting a meeting with you given our small sample size of history. I didn’t want you to get all scared and chicken out of meeting with me.”

Naomi still oozed charisma. While watching her get her ass handed to her years back had been one of the true guilty pleasures of my lifetime, there was no denying her talents and accomplishments as a person. Even after that day long ago, I tried to follow her athletic escapades via the news. She eventually wound up winning Provincial gold as a high hurdler multiple times as a student athlete at the University of Western Ontario where she studied Nursing. While the Olympics were a possible alternative, Naomi ultimately had chosen a quieter life.

“I work at Sick Kids in the city”, she told me, “Everyday I be with the most amazing people and help the most amazing kids on the planet. My life is full and I am looking to invest. While I love my job, I don’t want to work forever and so I m looking to grow my nest egg, so that I can channel my efforts in support of something bigger than just being wealthy. I’d like you to help me.”

Naomi’s plan was to identify investment properties and fixer uppers in her spare time. She felt that the market in Toronto was primed for a boom and getting in at this time would be key to her overall plan. I could not disagree, I was already doing the same thing for the very same reasons.

In thinking of both the pros and cons, I had to say that things were heavily weighted to the “pro” side of the equation. There were worse fates than spending time with Naomi — and more importantly — spending her money. I figured that it would also be a great opportunity for me to focus more on my own investment realty interests, doing that under the guise of Naomi’s business.

Naomi and I chatted on both the market and our love for the city for a while and time melted away. After an hour an alarm on my watch buzzed, I had set it earlier in the day to remind me off another appointment that would be pressing.

“Naomi, I have had a GREAT time chatting with you. I think we can absolutely work together on this. Let’s set up a time to get together and we will start fleshing out some ideas”, I said as I rose from my chair — with the obtrusive boner finally a thing of the past. Naomi stood in concert with me. With the slight heel on the stylish leather boots that she wore, she was almost looking me in dead in the eye.

“Tell ya what”, she began, as she pulled a small note pad from her Gucci purse and started writing, “I have some things already on the go. Why don’t you swing by my place later today, so that maybe we can get a head start on ‘fleshing things out’?”

Looking at the exotic goddess in front of me, only a mad man would have said no. “For sure, Naomi, let’s do that.”

She offered with a coy smirk, “Is 8:30 okay or is that past your bedtime?”

“8:30 will be perfect”, I countered.

“Alright, then bring it in, asshole”, Naomi replied. She never did have an affinity for first names.

Naomi met me with a polite hug. Even in brief contact with her I could tell that not much of the world class bod had gone missing over the years. Naomi was still a nearly 6-foot tall cyborg of a woman.

“Don’t be late”, she reminded, as we walked out the restaurant and left in different directions. Goddamn, she was a sexy beast from any angle.

As the day progressed, I must say that I found myself routinely checking my watch as it counted down to 8:30. Halfway through the afternoon I became so restless that I cancelled a couple of meetings so that I could head down to my gym and burn off some nervous energy. It was true, had I known going in that my morning meeting was with Naomi, I likely would have never taken it based on my introduction to her years ago, but now, having seen her, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. That was one damn fine woman.

Walking back to the change room, I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. At a height of 6’3”, I was still a really fit guy. I’d put on some weight — sure — bringing me to about 220, but it was all generally muscle. My upper body was envious and I carried well below average body fat so that my six pack was always on display. While other friends of mine had already begun moving into a sedentary lifestyle, I wanted to extend my peak, plus the little sessionettes — with whom I liked to entertain myself — tended to enjoy coiling themselves around a guy who was fit and quasi-desirable. It made for much better moments.

Naomi was obviously doing well in life. Her address had her living in a very desirable area of Toronto known as Queen’s Quay. That area was a VERY affluent part of Metro Toronto that overlooked Lake Ontario, which was a nice view, even in all of its polluted glory. Her place had to have been way up in the building and as she buzzed me into her lobby while exclaiming “Early. Good boy”, I realized that her unit might actually be the penthouse.

She really was doing well in life.

The elevator ride to Naomi’s penthouse was swift and led right into a small lobby outside her unit. I had brought a bottle of my favourite Chilean red — just as a token — and a small bouquet of flowers as part of how I liked to do “personal business”. I knocked and with almost no hesitation, the door opened.

While I expected to find a tall, biracial amazon, what came bounding out the door was a bit of an over-friendly dog. He looked a little like a short German Shepherd, but not as long or as tall.

“Boscoe, let the man in”, Naomi chided from the doorway. She looked incredible as was pretty much the standard for her. The overcoat of this morning had been replaced by a pair of sheer yoga leggings and a long-sleeved, zippered active wear top — both in basic black — that nicely contrasted her caramel skin and golden locks. Her choice in clothing corroborated my earlier assessment that Naomi had definitely not gone to pot. While I had already determined that Naomi seemed much different than she was a few years prior, her top also suggested that she was different in “other areas”.

“I got me some boobs”, she indicated, with a big smile and some playfully raised eyebrows. Obviously my ninja gawking skills had betrayed me yet again.

“I was tired of having the chest of an 11 year old boy. So I got 'Bionic Boobs' a couple years back.” She paused to make a signature 6-Million Dollar Man “doo-do-doo-do-dooooo” sound effect to drive home her point. From within her condo, the distinct aroma of grilled steak emanated.

“You are a bit early, but I work better when I've eaten. I hope you like your steak rare, otherwise, I may have Boscoe escort you out.”

Naomi took my coat and hung it in a front closet. Her condo was beautifully stylish and had a panoramic view of not just the lake, but also a good deal of the city as well. She smiled and seemed genuinely pleased as I handed her the bouquet, "Hmmmm, you're momma raised you right. Good boy!", she said as she deposited the flowers in a vase that she had handy.

As she motioned for me to sit on a stool that was part of the breakfast bar of her kitchen, Naomi went back to tending to a couple of New York Strips on an electric grill. They smelled heavenly.

Boscoe spent his time sitting next to me and staring at me. He didn’t seem to know what to think of me. “He should warm up to you. He’s usually a pretty good judge of character”, Naomi said while smiling that lovely smile that she owned. “If not, then maybe I’ll have to escort you out.”

She paused comically to consider that last option, “That could get fun”, she laughed.

Naomi served up a perfectly grilled steak accompanied by a lovely salad. For a late meal it was ideal — satisfying but not overly filling. She told me that she preferred to not “tie on the feed bag” when eating a meal because she liked to maintain “fighting trim”. She said that with another playful raise of both eyebrows followed by a wide smile. While she obviously acknowledged how we met, Naomi seemed to have moved on and found perspective and — apparently — humour in all of our mutual history.

She told me that she had owned the penthouse for a couple of years now. I didn’t ask how a nursing practitioner could afford such a prime location, but I did remark at what a lovely place she had. “Would you like a tour?”, she asked, to which I responded in the affirmative.

Naomi’s home was tastefully decorated but with a very contemporary bent. She had modern artwork adorning her walls and her choice in furnishings prioritized luxurious comfort. Naomi told me that the unit was four bedrooms, three and half baths and had an exercise room. As we rounded a corner in her hallway, she swung open a door to reveal a fairly large space with mirrors and a ballet bar on one side, a floor covered with mats for stretching, I presumed, and a selection of free weights, benches, a Smith Press machine and other workout gear on the opposing side of the room. Looking at her selection of free weights, I marvelled at the poundages. These weren’t the tools of some dainty girl, these were loads that could only be heaved by an athlete.

As I completed my inspection of her workout paraphernalia, from behind me, I heard Naomi’s dulcet voice, “Okay, let’s get started…”, she began. As I turned to face her, Naomi stood in the middle of the floor mat wearing nothing but a black thong bikini bottom, with her C-Cup “Bionic Boobs” on full display.

“You better lose some gear, asshole”, she said with a cocky grin. “You were the one who wanted to ‘flesh some things out’. So let’s see some flesh.”

Naomi was being as serious as death and taxes, one of which was not out of the question for anyone stepping on a mat with her given a cursory review of her physique currently on full display in her exercise room. With a few more years of development, especially in her arms, a higher quality of muscular development was evident. Naomi showed much greater separation and fuller muscle bellies. Her legs still had the signature tapers of someone who had spent a lifetime in Track & Field, specifically as a sprinter.

In terms of the newest additions, the “Bionic Boobs” looked to be the work of a high end specialist. Much like the rest of her body, the overall impression was artfully aesthetic and they looked to be a full C-Cup which nicely complimented her light bone structure. She was an elite athlete and she wanted to rumble. “What the heck?”, I figured, there were lots of worse ways to go than at the hands of a vengeful amazon.

I stripped down to only my boxers. They were a black set of Calvins, so at least I colour coordinated nicely with “my date”. Naomi mirthfully bit her bottom lip trying to subvert a full on grin as I started walking out to the mat. “You’re CUTE”, she exclaimed, “will you be my girlfriend?”

She was very definitely a smart ass. This could be fun as long as she didn’t kill me.

“Okay, asshole…house rules are no eye gouging, fish hooking or punching to the face. Other than that we are good to go. If you wanna grapple, we’ll grapple. You wanna try and get too fresh and you’ll be walking funny to appointments tomorrow. You pick, I can play it any way you like.”

She hopped side to side, a walking, talking Fembot. I figured that since she offered it, I’d go conventional. After all, maybe anything she learned as part of the boys wrestling team years back at the Snooty Catholic High School were a faded, distant memory to her.

We crashed together in clinch. Immediately, I recognized why there was a big difference between weekend warriors and elite athletes — there was a visceral power and heaviness to Naomi’s strength. As we turned on the floor looking for a secondary opening, Naomi was looking at me and smiling. “Not bad, asshole”, she said, “looks like you aren’t just spending time on a driving range to keep yourself busy in your spare time. I’m glad you haven’t gone soft, that’ll make this a lot more fun”

Given that Naomi was dictating how we were generally moving in the clinch, I took her comment as complimentary, but largely faint praise. It took about another second for that realization to bear fruit. In a heartbeat, Naomi aggressively pushed then receded, throwing me off balance. As I over-adjusted, Naomi pulled back and downwards as she dropped and rolled back with our arms still engaged. I followed in the direction of forward momentum and felt air rush out so me as Naomi’s feet slammed into my midsection and then launched me into the air over top of her. All I could think in the moments before my ignominious — and decidedly one-point — landing was “Look Ma, I can fly”.

The short trip through the air definitely wasn’t business class and as the mat slammed into my upper shoulders and back, I let out a loud grunt and then admired the beautiful array of stars that seemed to appear all around me. I was already dazed and in trouble.

My next sensation was the feeling of Naomi pulling me to my feet, largely by the hair on top of my head. As she spun me a braced for some form of offence coming in high, but Naomi was already ahead of the game, dropping down and grabbing my hips as a precursive set-up to an accurately placed and completely debilitating knee being driven square into my groin. I dropped like a rock right down to the mat at her feet.

With little else to do while I tried to find some sensation other than complete nausea and being uniquely in position to make the observation, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Naomi’s feet were. They were high arched and even THEY had an athletic aesthetic to them. As I lay there, I watched as Naomi seemed to sink into her feet and then explosively rise up through them as they flexed until they had left my field of view. Even dazed, I knew that this was likely bad news, so it was not really surprising when I felt the full weight of my amazonian oppressor land a massive elbow strike right into my upper back, with the full impact being felt by every part of me that was adjacent to the floor. I was in trouble.

I felt the tug as Naomi grabbed my wrist and then used her foot to deposit me fully on my back. She stepped over me and looked down, still smiling and enjoying the sight of me dazed and helplessly at her feet. Naomi traced her right big toe up from below my navel and across the middle my chest and then set the ball of her foot down across my mouth. “Maybe you should submit NOW and kiss that like you mean it”, she offered, “It’ll hurt a lot less than what comes next.”

I made what could be a historic lapse in judgement, moaning back, “Fuck you, bitch.”

There was that lovely smile again. “Oh...I LIKE the tough guys”, I heard her say and with that, she once again went airborne landing with her all her weight in a full body splash in which her rock solid upper thighs slammed into my already compromised groin yet again. There was no give in her body whatsoever. She was a freak of nature.

Naomi grabbed my wrists in her hands and pinned them down. Looking up at her, I could tell that she was definitely enjoying herself. “Y’know, I think we should get to know each other better”, she said as she snaked her legs around mine and snapped me into a paralyzingly effective Grapevine hold. “You have a lot of fight in you. That makes me REALLY happy.”

Naomi began drive her pelvis into me in rapid succession with as much power as she could generate, which was significant. She was doing a really effective job of wearing me out. Naomi pushed herself up slightly with her arms while maintaining the Grapevine with her legs. As she did, she released my wrists and brought her hands under her “Bionic Boobs”, cupping them, while holding her elevated position by using the strength in her lower back and glutes.

“So I saw you look, but you never told me if you liked these” she said, “Tell me, do you think these look okay?”

“As far as boobs go, they’re alright”, I shot back, not really recognizing that the time for sarcasm was generally not advisable in the midst of a beatdown, by a girl built like Wonder Woman with an attitude.

“Hmmmmm…I think that I should introduce the three of you so that you can get better acquainted”, she replied and with that she vigorously pulled me forward by the base of my skull into her surgically enhanced bosom.

To be sure, oxygen immediately came at a premium given my predicament, but as usual my strong sense of observation kicked in and I became impressed with how natural Naomi’s Bionic Boobs felt to the discerning breast smother victim. They were lovely — even in their current, weaponized state — and seemed to check all the boxes for smushiness, buoyancy, volume and general boobosity. An impressive accomplishment to say the very least and I felt a strong sense of gratitude for Naomi’s surgeon. The good doctor was obviously an artist.

As nice as the new boobs felt, the reality of slowly being smothered wasn’t changing and I could feel myself becoming lightheaded and my cone of vision — which was already suffering from an obstructed view — was beginning to narrow into darkness. Sapped as I was, even my efforts to try and pull Naomi’s grip on my skull apart were failing. That quickly changed as Naomi opted to end her hold and soften me up with a few more rapid fire pelvic thrusts while slamming my hands back into the mat above my head. She was glowing with perspiration and loving every ounce of hurt she was putting on my prone frame.

“Well?”, she inquired while grinning sweetly, “What do you think now?”

“Your boob guy does really boobiful work”, I answered, likely still in the clutches of oxygen debt.

“Boobiful, huh? I love a comedian”, Naomi shot back, releasing both my hands and my legs so that she could unleash a series of mini-splashes on my torso. Her body was an unbelievable, high impact, implement of physical carnage when she put her mind to it.

Groggy yet again from her latest offensive, Naomi bounced to her feet and began to encourage me to join her using my hair once againas her primary point of contact. I was more than shaky as I got to my feet, but as I did, Naomi threw a quick and devastating karate kick into my left side, driving the air out of my body again. As I spun away from the contact, Naomi leaped onto my back and positioning my chin on top of the crook of her right elbow and following with her left along my left temple in order to frame a classic sleeper hold. As she did so, she simultaneously wrapped her endless legs around my torso.

“Oh fuck”, I exclaimed — I knew what was coming and it wasn't going to be good.

Naomi leveraged my unsteadiness and her strength to throw us off balance and we fell to the floor, landing us both on her back with me on top of her. Having braced herself for the collision with the floor, Naomi felt no ill effects. For a brief moment, Naomi released her leg hold, but it was so that — using her highly coordinated feet — she could liberate me from my boxers, which wound up wrapped around my knees, limiting any mobility in my legs. Naomi opted for a brief inspection of my manhood using the soles of her feet in a way that, under any other circumstance, would’ve been really alright and very welcome. This produced an immediate and very urgent boner.

“Mmmmmmm…asshole! Not bad. You may have uses beyond real estate”, she said while chuckling with what was her signature warm and quite hardy laugh, which based on recent precedent signalled severe and impending doom.

Naomi’s repositioned her legs into a full scissor around my torso and tightened violently. The crushing power of those two appendages working in tandem was paralyzing. As her legs began to grind my "seemingly everything up to and including my soul" into talcum powder, her shapely arms fully engaged in unison to deliver the full effect of her sleeper hold, immediately ceasing all blood flow to my brain. The consequential impact was demonstrably effective and within scant seconds my body was in complete shutdown and I was on the way to oblivion. As reality slipped away, I remembered my final cognitive process being, “Wow…what a waste of a perfectly good boner.”

My next sensation was something bopping me in the right cheek. From somewhere in the fog surrounding me, I heard a voice.

“Hey…asshole…", BOP! "Wakey-wakey…." BOP! "Hey…asshole…no sleeping on the job….." BOP! "Hey asshole….let’s get up, eh” BOP!

Gaining a bit more sensation, it also seemed like my nuts were getting some relatively pleasant oral attention.

I opened my eyes and Naomi was sitting next to me with her majestic legs stretched straight out so that she could punctuate her attempts at revelry with the toes of her right foot. She was leaning back with her arms supporting her weight. If I was being honest, waking up to the sight of her wasn't the worst thing in the world, she was a stunning beauty.

At my ball sack, there was Boscoe. Apparently he and I were on the way to becoming fast friends.

“Boscoe…scoot, scat!”, Naomi commanded her puppy and he responded by taking his leave, moving on to doing the other Boscoe things that he did when not having my scrotum as the object of his desires / potential chew toy.

“This isn't the start of Round 2, is it? If it is, I may need a minute”, I told her

“No”, she said cocking her head and pursing her lips, “You did better than I thought you would. No tears, no squealing and no tapping out either. You John Wayne’d that shit.”

“Thanks. It's probably because I was never a MENSA candidate.”, I offered.

“Hmmmm…I see what Blondie saw in you”, she replied still looking at me inquisitively. “So….are we going to do this?”

“Ummmm….Didn't we just 'do that'?”

“No, asshole…are we doing the business thing together? I want to get going on this stuff, so I need to know.”

I asked her, “Will you let me live if I say no?” — always the wise ass.

“Maybe”, she said — as I braced for imminent, counter wise-asserie, “I may take you as an involuntary sex slave until you outlive your usefulness, if you turn me down. I figure that will fill about six and a half minutes out of my day — but what the heck — free will, y’know? No pressure.”

“I’d love to work with you”, I finally answered with a newfound commitment to sincerity. It was either that or survival instinct had finally kicked in.

“Great!”, Naomi exclaimed, continuing as she hopped to her feet with her patented agility and grace, “Listen…while I did all the work there, you look like getting your ass handed to you also got you a bit of a glow on. I have a really nice shower around here somewhere. Care to join me?”

My basic rule has always been “Never turn down the attention of a gorgeous woman”. With that, I kicked off my boxers the rest of the way and picked myself up off the mat. “Sure. Let’s go”, I offered, "We can chat while we bathe."

“We can chat while YOU bathe ME”, Naomi replied while laughing, “There have to be some perks for winning and being the boss.” With that she playfully grabbed my happy boner and led me away to the showers.

It was the start of a new adventure…

To be continued...

Last edited by HermanDG; 22-Oct-17 at 21:34.
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Old 22-Oct-17, 12:33
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

You timed this story to perfection, mate. My mind was consumed with the description of Naomi's incredible legs from Kelly's story and the new description only added to her intoxicating allure. Added to this you gave us a thrilling mixed wrestling match with a worthy female conqueror and hopefully the promise of more such fights in the future.

Thank you very much.
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Old 22-Oct-17, 21:11
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

I woke the next morning without any real sense of the time. Naomi’s condo was so high up that you couldn’t really hear the bustle of the street below and her bedroom inspired a peaceful calm, somewhat at odds with the activities of the previous evening, both in other parts of her home and in the bed where I found myself. Naomi, ever the Energizer Robo-Bunny, was already up and at it, even after a long and very physical night.

As i sat up on the edge of the bed, I considered the events of the last 24-hours. In retrospect, it was proof that you could never fully know what to expect in life; one moment it’s a day like any other, the next you are having a post beatdown grab session with a girl who looks like she fell off Mount Olympus. Crazy.

To say that Naomi and I got along in our post-match shower would be an understatement. After getting her lathered up, we got each other even more in a lather, which resulted in activities that could not be contained to individual rooms. The feel of Naomi's body in both combat and seduction was second to none. She was incredible and it was a nice way to have a follow up to our original tour so that I could revisit any of the rooms that I didn't get a great look at the first time around. The final verdict on the evening was that Naomi was formidable as both a competitor and a lover, requiring and co-participant to be able to meet a certain physical level. Cardio would be a focus in my workouts in the following weeks.

Naomi had neatly folded my clothes from the previous day and had placed them on a dresser across the room. Considering it too early for a suit I slipped on my boxers and hunted through Naomi’s closet for something to wear on my top half. Finding something appropriate, I slipped on a lovely, off-the-shoulder, oversized t-shirt with the words “Frankie says RELAX” written diagonally across the front. Fashion was always a hallmark of my personal code.

Boscoe met me as I got out into the hallway. I scratched him behind the ears as a greeting and tossed a nearby chew toy that he happily chased down the hall. I was thankful that our relationship didn’t have that “day after” awkwardness that can accompany oral activities and nether regions. From the kitchen, the distinctive, sweet aroma of bacon and coffee beckoned.

Getting to the kitchen, Naomi was already in full swing, whipping up scrambled eggs with the aforementioned bacon and a side of what looked to be whole wheat toast. Seeing her it was apparent that, for all her talents and what she could do, it was pretty much impossible for Naomi to look bad.

She glowed with the morning, her hair and skin beautifully offset by the short, silk kimono that she wore. The kimono was black with light purple cuffs and trim. On the back of the kimono were images of Japanese flowers. Naomi’s legs extended from beneath the kimono and she stood on her left foot with her right foot balancing against her left calf in a yoga "tree" pose as she cooked.

Engrossed in her cooking, Naomi didn't hear me coming in to the kitchen, so on entry, I announced my presence with the standard, “Good morning.” Naomi spun around, immediately taking note of my loaner apparel and laughed, tossing her golden mane back as she did. “Nice outfit’, she remarked, “Does it come in men's?”

Naomi welcomed me into her arms and gave me a surprisingly stimulating good morning kiss, completed with some tongue and lower lip nibbling with her pearlescent, white teeth. “Weren’t you a sleepy boy, this morning?”, she giggled, while challenging, “Trouble keeping up with me?”

“Hmmmm…just need a little coffee”, I replied, “Then I’ll be ready for 15 with Iron Mike.”

“Maybe you should hold off on Iron Mike until you can gimme a run for my money”, Naomi mocked, while throwing in another wet kiss as an added value bonus.

“That’ll take bacon”, I countered, much to her entertainment, while copping a lingering feel of Naomi’s succulently round ass under her kimono. Good God that girl was a machine.

I set the table and poured some coffee as Naomi finished cooking breakfast. The day was sunny and beautiful, but was meagre incentive compared to my current company. Naomi and I sat at her small dining room table, chatting business and other matters while we ate.

“I’m looking at some opportunities just west of the city”, she informed me, “There’s this little town that I think is about to explode as a real estate development. They are just trying to work through some water issues.”

“Milton?”, I queried. If it was, I was already looking into various opportunities in that area, mostly because that town was a bit of an unknown, except to some folks who were astute. Immediately, I recognized that Naomi was definitely in the know. She smiled broadly at my question.

“Hmmmmmmm…you really do know your shit!”, she looked more delicious than breakfast, “I’m going to have to watch you. Agile minds can breed creative challenges”, with that I felt Naomi playfully probe my groin with her very curious left foot. If nothing else, she understood how to push all the right buttons.

“I knew you were a smartypants, right from the moment I met you”, Naomi said.

“Weren’t you unleashing holy hell on my ex-girlfriend while encouraging me to adopt a monk-like lifestyle revolving around self-stimulation at the time?”, I countered.

“Yup. I liked your comebacks, though — they were witty”, she replied, continuing on to, “Whatever happened to Blondie?”

“Things….”, I told her with obvious ‘let’s-leave-this-one-alone’ innuendo.

She picked up what I was putting down, “Ahhhhh…’things’.”

“What about that guy — Leftover Jack — what the fuck did you ever see in that guy?”, I asked, "I never would’ve put the two of you together.”

“Biggest. Cock. EVER.”, Naomi replied, eyes WIDE open, like someone who was still seeing a ghost.


“Like a thermos”, she deadpanned, without any semblance of irony.

“Wow. Well at least he didn’t ruin you for life”, I joked nodding in the general direction of her vagina, “That’s still a tight and tidy package down there.”

Naomi couldn’t contain her smile. Being an idiot was often helpful in breaking any tension. “Is it now? Thank you. Maybe I’ll let you play with it again sometime.” She punctuated with the raised eyebrow thing that she seemingly always did when she was being ironic. I really wanted to fuck her brains out.

Naomi and I concluded breakfast and I cleaned up, telling her to go get a head start on getting ready for the day. To be honest, it was no great sacrifice, dishes for two people having breakfast was no great burden, but the sentiment was welcomed by her. All told, I don’t think it took me more than a couple of minutes. I took another two minutes to give my new best friend Boscoe a few more scratches behind his ears and entertained a couple of rounds of fetch and then I started down the hallway to the bedroom with the thought of getting dressed. It was shaping up as a really good start to the day.

It was apparent as I got to the bedroom that Naomi had a different agenda for at least the immediate future. As I entered, she was on her knees on her king bed, wearing a barely there aqua green, string bikini. “Get over here, asshole”, she growled in a way meant to be dramatically threatening, but was way beyond sexy. The boner was being home delivered.

Naomi looked intense, but not pissed, which was a good thing because I was sure that when truly PO’d she could take things to a level that might incur OHIP costs. She loved to play, that girl, so I made a point of showing no hesitation in strutting over to the side of the bed closest to me and joined her on my knees.

“Whatever do you have in mind?”, I asked her.

“The rules are simple, best two out of three, sexual submissions only. You lose a round, you lose a clothing item and winner of the match gets to do whatever they want to the loser.”, she advised.

“Like, engage them in witty conversation”, I joked, always finding the worst time for humour.

“Yeah. Like THAT” Naomi deadpanned, unimpressed, “Just for that comment, my reward will involve your asshole, ASSHOLE, and a REALLY BIG strap-on that I have in the closet over there.”

She was a very intense girl when the mood struck her.

“You ready to be my bitch?”, she challenged.

“Only if you are ready to be mine.” I replied. Naomi seemed to like that answer. Holy Christ I wanted to screw the bejesus out of her.

Ready for action, we came together in a clinch. While Naomi was a powerhouse with a strong core and explosive legs, on her knees much of her leverage and quickness was mitigated. Upright on our knees, upper body strength would be much more prevalent as an advantage. Once down on the “mat”, she would have a lot of potential options using her legs to her advantage, but the requirement of “sexual submission” meant that this game wasn’t about pure power, it was more about finesse.

Even on her knees, Naomi was a load when grappling. She wasn’t keeping the weights in the other room for show, they were obviously a regular part of her regime. Even so, I held a moderate advantage in upper body strength and had at least a bit of a scouting report on what her buttons were from the previous evening’s post match grab fest.

With some spur of the moment aggression, I was able to break the clinch nod pull Naomi down into a headlock. Naomi cursed as she found herself under me, not generally a common occurrence as illustrated by our last match, but even with an inferior position, she leveraged the rules snaking a hand up my boxers to grab my “tag team partner” who was in the “SRO” section of my groin area.

“Can you already taste my big dildo?”, Naomi questioned

“Nope and I won’t be today, either”, I shot back, while changing my position to one of greater dominance, straddling her and then snapping her into a grapevine of my own.

“Look at you, Mr. Slick”, she chided, “You think I’ve never been on the bottom before?”

“Well not with me so far, but there’s always a first time”, came my reply

Naomi was squirming defensively, trying to work up some inertia and leverage. Whether she recognized it or not, that very motion was super arousing and as she worked for a better position, my boner was travelling towards a throbbing state. I was considering a change of position, when Naomi placed her hands underneath my hips and driving off her heels and using the strength in her legs and glutes, she bucked us over so that now she was on top and I was on the bottom, although still maintaining my tenuous headlock.

Instinctively, Naomi captured my legs in a vice like grapevine and with her hands free to roam, she sent her left hand as an emissary into boxer shorts to starting massaging my shaft and then began stimulating my left nipple with her right, creating a dynamic that was extremely stimulating in a pleasurable way. This was definitely not her first rodeo.

Given the risk being posed by Naomi on multiple fronts, there was no option other than abandoning the ineffective headlock. One way or another, I needed to get control of her hands or she was going to make short work of me. However, as I released the hold, Naomi was already lying in wait. The second, she felt even slightly liberated, she seized the opportunity to push down and spin 180, catching my head in a reverse triangle between her thighs. The added benefit of her hold was that it gave her ready access to my throbbing manhood, a development not lost on her.

“Ohhhhh…baby”, she purred, “Your ass is so grass right now.”

Naomi slid her left hand down my boxers and reached back to grab her right ankle, intensifying her triangle hold on me. She looked over her shoulder to take note of my victimization at her hands with a catty grin.

“I’m going to do you so dirty right now”, she offered, her tongue sensuously licking at her lips.

With that, Naomi powered up and switched her hold into a reverse face sit, positioning her calves under both my shoulders and trapping my face beneath her incredible ass. Her hand moved away from my pulsating member so she could sit straight up in this new hold, allowing her full weight to be felt on my trapped skull. To drive home her position of dominance, she rapidly popped her buttocks up and down, essentially slapping me in the face with her butt cheeks over and over for what seemed like an eternity.

Once done tenderizing my face with her ass, Naomi began exerting downward pressure into her face sit by engaging her hamstrings and glutes, making her almost immovable. My hands pressed against her bum — now rock hard with muscular exertion — but my resistance was futile. Naomi was starving me of oxygen to weaken me further, while her right hand went back to agitating my defenceless nipple and her left hand split time between stroking my shaft and my highly sensitized ballsack. The end was coming and Naomi could feel my body quivering and shuddering, trying to hold off my ultimate release.

At that point, Naomi brought the end game. Firmly gripping my overwhelmed penis, Naomi brought the hammer in the form of her wet mouth and took me deep into her throat, delivering a blow job that was out of this world. At the same time, she switched from facesitting me to applying a pulsating reverse headscissors. It was too much for me and as I exploded my submission into her mouth, Naomi continued her onslaught until she had sucked me dry and my entire body was spent. It was a masterful sexual tour de force.

“Mmmmmmmmmmm”, she meowed, “I didn’t think that after last night you’d have that many soldiers left in you. Looks like I can take anything you’ve got, baby. You may need to call in the cavalry.”

Naomi gave my balls one last grope and then pushed herself off the bed. She went to her closet and after a little rummaging, produced a strap-on from one of the top shelves that featured a mammoth, black silicon phallus and placed it on one of the bed’s side tables. She was oozing confidence.

“I’m just going to put this here so that it’s handy”, she giggled, “Depending on my mood after the next round, maybe I’ll even get the lube so that I don’t hurt my itty-bitty widdle man too much. By the way, they call this thing ‘The Crippler’ in the catalogue.”

She was a really overconfident PITA sometimes. It made me want to fuck her mercilessly.

“That’s Round One to me”, she continued while taking her starting position on her knees across the bed from me, “Gimme my t-shirt back, asshole. That’s a t-shirt that belongs on a champion.”

Naomi laughed at her own comedic stylings as I removed the very snazzy “Frankie say RELAX” piece and tossed it over to her. I couldn’t help myself, “You may want to put that over there with the strap-on”, I said, “If that’s the shirt of champions, I’ll be wearing it after.”

Naomi feigned incredulousness with an “Ooooooooooooooo!!”, and then laughed heartily, tossing back her head as she did. Laughing made her boobs giggle in a way that made me glad to be alive as a man. As a sign of good sportsmanship, Naomi set the t-shirt down with the mammoth strap-on from her closet.

“We’ll put that there for Ron”, Naomi giggled.

“Ron who?”, I asked, wondering if she was planning a guest list.

“Later Ron, when I’m fucking you, bitch!” Naomi screamed with laughter at her own inventiveness.

There was no question, she had to die.

To be continued…

Last edited by HermanDG; 22-Oct-17 at 21:41.
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Old 23-Oct-17, 03:52
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Without a doubt, my situation was mission critical. Across from me was a gorgeous, cyborg amazon from the planet Grappletron who seemed invincible to defeat from anyone who wasn’t a 5’6” lifeguard with limited wrestling experience.

To summarize:
• In the past twelve hours Naomi had annihilated me in mat wrestling, turned intercourse into an Olympic event well into the wee hours of the morning and then destroyed all hope for a brighter tomorrow by bed wrestling me into oblivion.

• To my right, on a side table was a monstrously large strap-on with which my mutant adversary intended to re-enact “The Battle of the Little Big Horn” while casting my anus as Colonel Custer’s army

• In the adjacent hallway was a dog who had also exploited me in the last twelve hours, meaning that I was currently doing about as well as the 1986 edition of the New York Knicks at beating anyone or anything currently living in the very swanky residence where I found myself

Obviously desperate times called for desperate measures. So as soon as I could think of some, I would be certain do my bet to apply them.

“It’s 1-0, baby”, Naomi, the future newswoman for Channel 4 informed me, “That means that all I have to do is beat you one more time and ‘Hello, Crippler’!!” Checking her math, I was able to confirm that one plus one did in fact equal two, therefore if nursing was at some point no longer an option, there was definitely some evidence that accounting could be an alternative career path.

“Let’s get it on, asshole”, Naomi exclaimed, ready and loaded for bear.

Once again, we came into a clinch in the middle of the bed. As always, being on the opposing side of Naomi’s strength was brutal. Even though Naomi was a smaller person than I, she had a great sense of physical leverage and angles of attack. Her overall conditioning also gave her another level complexity when dealing with her overall package and to top it off, she seemed to have a motor that never quit. Head on, she was simply a beast.

It was in that moment that I considered that — up until now — all of my attack angles with Naomi had actually been head on. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe it was time for a new strategy. Given her training as a sprinter and hurdler, everything in Naomi’s past training was built around forward driving power. Maybe the solution was the move to a diametrically opposite angle of attack.

Right then, I decided to employ a technique that Naomi had used against me previously. I leaned in hard enough to make Naomi think that I was trying to overpower her. At the point where I began to feel her driving back against me, I pulled away, allowing her to overcompensate and throw herself off balance. As she did, I pivoted slightly to the side and then took her back.

“What?”, Naomi exclaimed, “You know, you're probably not getting anywhere trying to take me from back there, you know!” Always a comedian that one.

It did pose a bit of a problem, having her back in a competition that was being decided by sexual submissions. With no better idea, I decided to go with an old favourite to maybe wear my powerhouse opponent down. Grabbing a handful of Naomi’s hair, I pulled her up and into a camel clutch, quickly securing her arms behind my elbows to try and take them out of the fray. “Oh…you fucker!”, Naomi exclaimed. At that point I wasn’t sure if the problem was the camel clutch or the hair pulling, although the later wasn’t really a problem the night before.

I pressed my advantage. I reached down and pulled away Naomi’s bikini top and began fondling her Bionic Boobs, taking great care to contrast the pain that she was feeling with some pleasure at my secondary plan of attack. “Ohhhhh…you FUCKER…”, the tenor was different, maybe the plan was working. I continued manipulating her left breast and with my right, I grabbed another handful of golden locks. I began whispering in Naomi’s ear, telling her the things that I was going to do to her once I had finished dominating her. The words were almost as stimulating as anything that I was applying to her physically. Theatre of the mind, I supposed and — at the end of the day — for someone as dominant as Naomi, giving up control could quite possibly be the most erotic thing she could imagine. She had mentioned that she enjoyed the fact that I’d stood up to her in the past, maybe it was time to kick the domination into overdrive and allow her to explore the fine art of submission.

I tugged her hair again and leaned in even closer to where I had my face right beside hers. In that moment I laid a sloppy wet kiss on her mouth. Lost in that moment she reciprocated, to which i responded by pulling her even further back using her hair. I continued whispering “sweet nothings” in her ear, based on how perky her nipples were getting, it all seemed to be striking a chord. Through it all, I maintained the pressure on her back with the camel clutch. If I was going to have any chance at all, I needed to take significant wind out of her sails.

After pouring on the pressure for several minutes, I finally felt like I had softened Naomi up enough to work my final strategy. I gave one final tug and then roughly pushed her down into the mattress. As I did I spun around and grabbed her right leg that was still trailing with her foot in the air from having been trapped in my hold for an extended period. I hooked her right foot under my armpit and drew it back into a textbook half crab. To further enhance the hold I braced my left shin across her lower back and positioned my right heel just above her knee on her inner thigh, effectively blocking her left leg.

Naomi groaned, “Ohhhhhhhh…you fucking asshole…”

While sinking in the half crab was a big part of my end game, in reach right below me was my true target and I attacked without prejudice. Pushing her bikini brief aside, I began fingering Naomi’s wide open femininity with the fingers of my right hand. She pawed at me with her hands, but she wasn’t going anywhere due to how I had her legs trapped and blocked in. She was in a position that was severely under leveraged and I could feel that the good work that I was doing under her bikini bottoms was on the verge of bearing fruit. As the end neared, she pushed against me with all her might. I held firm and then….bingo!

“Oooooooooooooooo…you fucking asshole…”, Naomi shuddered and then released. I held on to the half crab for a moment after it was over — just to drive home the point of her actual defeat — then I let her go and moved up so that I could whisper in her ear at close range, “I think that’s 1-1”. Naomi raised her right hand and seemed to indicate that I was Number One. She then rolled over, not even bothering to reset her disheveled bikini top. Her face looked flush and she was glowing with sweat from her exertions.

“You bastard”, Naomi purred, “I fucking hate you.”

“Life’s a bitch”, I countered, “and then you make one cum in a wrestling match. That was LOTS of fun for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, wise ass”, she replied, “You’ll get yours.”

“You bet I will. Let’s start with that bikini top that you owe me, or would you rather donate your soaking wet bottoms?”

Grudgingly, she gave up the top and then set about composing herself. “That was a big one.”, she admitted, “You’ve got some skills with the digits, asshole, but that’s only one win. We are play to best out of three, so don’t get too overconfident.”

“You — the Queen of Overconfidence — are warning about the dangers of overconfidence?”, I chuckled, “Barbara Streisand has nothing on you, funny girl.”

Naomi took a moment to get off the bed for a quick break and shook out her entire awe-inspiring body. She followed that by taking a few deep breaths. You could tell she was a bit discombobulated by the intensity of her submission. It always was more fun rocking the world of the really cocky ones. After another couple of seconds, she returned to join me on the bed.

“Alright asshole…this one is for ALL the marbles”…

To be continued…

Last edited by HermanDG; 23-Oct-17 at 04:09.
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Old 23-Oct-17, 08:10
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mixfightor mixfightor is offline
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

The one time I managed to coax my now ex-wife into sex wrestling, I used the half boston crab to rock her world, just as you did with Naomi. Talk about bringing back some memories....

Thank you so much for this, mate. Not sure who I am rooting for in the deciding fall. I nearly always want the girl to win, but... you know.... The Crippler.

Not that it really matters. We, the readers of your stories, are the true winners in this case.
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Old 24-Oct-17, 00:30
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Originally Posted by mixfightor [Only Registered Users Can See LinksClick Here To Register]
The one time I managed to coax my now ex-wife into sex wrestling, I used the half boston crab to rock her world, just as you did with Naomi. Talk about bringing back some memories....

Thank you so much for this, mate. Not sure who I am rooting for in the deciding fall. I nearly always want the girl to win, but... you know.... The Crippler.

Not that it really matters. We, the readers of your stories, are the true winners in this case.
Thanks, my man much appreciated...
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Old 24-Oct-17, 05:18
Alexios Alexios is offline
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

Nicely written. I really like the banter and the snarky mental commentary of the narrator.

I'm in line with mixfightor; I'm not sure who I want to win. I always want the girl to win, except that strap-on really has me nervous.

That said, definitely looking forward to seeing where this is going.
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Old 24-Oct-17, 15:08
HermanDG HermanDG is offline
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Default Re: April 1995: Naomi

The only problem with having pulled out all the stops in getting even in my current match with Naomi was that I had now lost the element of surprise.

Naomi was savvy enough that she wasn’t going to be fooled into a compromising position using the same strategy a second time. She would be ready for just about anything and loaded for bear this time around. As we braced for the conclusion of our struggle, if I was to have any chance, I would need to be even more innovative in my approach and — even with that — in dealing with as accomplished an athlete as Naomi was, there was still no guarantee that she wouldn’t have something in her tool kit that I had not yet seen.

We moved into another heavy clinch — Naomi really was powerful in an otherworldly way. While her body could be soft and supple, when fully engaged it was a construct to behold. From all the exertion a shimmering glaze of perspiration made her glisten, making every muscle pop with vibrant detail. With a little pump on from our activities, her vascularity had been brought to the surface making her look even more formidable. Across her entire upper body body, muscle groups danced in a coordinated effort to subjugate me. At close range it was incredible to behold. Naomi was a specimen unlike any other that I had ever seen up close.

“I hope you are ready to get crushed”, Naomi growled, never short on confidence, but now seemingly fortified with enhanced determination, “You got lucky once. That won’t be happening again.”

With that, Naomi swiftly transitioned from the clinch to pulling me down to the mattress using a powerful headlock. The torque of her hold on its own was wrenching. Naomi had me pinned under her left side, with her left biceps grinding into my temple with the rest of my face coming to rest under her left Bionic Boob. She leveraged her legs to add even more weight to the hold, showing that she was obviously a master of its execution. Even with an obstructed view, from what I could see, Naomi was back to enjoying herself, smiling that standard 1000 watt smile while biting her lower lip in her devilishly sexy manner.

Seeking some avenue to break her hold, my right hand went to her golden mane, seeking to throw her off balance, but Naomi was ready for that, accepting the tug on her mane and then fiercely ratcheting up her headlock as her reply.

“Oh you are a bad boy”, she said, “Didn’t your momma teach you not to pull all a pretty girl's hair?”

“It’s just because secretly I like you”, I mumbled, still partially muffled by the assembly line boob that the golden goddess was shoving in my face.

Naomi giggle in reply, “Aren’t you the sweetest thing? Will you be my Valentine?”

She was always SUCH a smart ass.

Recognizing that a headlock wasn’t going to get it done on its own, Naomi shifted her position, converting her headlock into more of a perpendicular breast smother. Once again impaired by the spectacle that were her Bionic Boobs, I was as appreciative and thankful for the overall aesthetic of her physician’s work, as I was concerned about the overall challenge that they presented in such a tactical, weaponized state. It was obvious to me that Naomi’s plan was to grind me down and then worry about sexually submitting me once she rendered me into a more physically pliable form. She was nothing if not a cunning tactician as a competitor.

With how she had repositioned herself, my left arm was under her body, but not immobile. With no other option clearly presenting itself, I sent my left hand burrowing down into Naomi’s bikini briefs so that I could begin playing with her — still engorged from our previous round — clitoris. It was like a modern day sex fighting take on trying to use the “Underground Railroad” as means to freedom.

“Ohhhhhhh…aren’t you clever”, Naomi cooed, equally admiring and being stimulated by my gambit. Agile minds really do breed creative challenges.

However, Naomi was up to the challenge. Powering up, she skipped across and forcefully mounted me, now framing my face with her glorious boobs and straddling my torso with her legs, thereby allowing her to evolve her breast smother into a much more competent seal for starving me of oxygen. Further enhancing her position, her mile long legs snaked around mine and tightened like battleship chains, paralyzing me in an effective grapevine. She definitely wasn’t fooling around and was dismantling any hope I had for defence, let alone victory.

With her on top in this way, both my hands were free to roam, so I probed across the expanse of her world class bod, looking for any point of weakness as an opportunity to stem the tide. Naomi’s body was a wonder to behold and even more impressive to touch — especially when everything was running active as it was now. Her muscles surged and flowed from one grouping to another, all with an iron hewn quality when fully engaged that was in sharp contrast the artistry of the sweeping curves and classic lines embodied by her physique. Her gluteus, was absolutely glorious and her quads and hamstrings rippled with sensuous power.

My only desperate option was to try once again with the hair, but as I grabbed a handful, Naomi said, “Hmmmmm…I think I need to teach you some manners” and with that unleashed a barrage of jackhammer pelvic thrusts into my abdomen and punishing me for my temerity. Even backing on to a mattress, the sheer force was jarring and highly effective. I was winded by her assault and Naomi had a new opening to wreak havoc.

Naomi released her breast smothering headlock and while I was quick to grab a breath, in the time that I did so, she had quickly repositioned herself so that was now straddling my head. In one swift and devastating movement, Naomi slammed my face deep into her crotch while locking her thighs around my head into a reverse headscissors. As she did, she reached down into my boxers and put the grab on my "little head" too and began fondling anything she could find down there to drive me crazy. She was in a winning position and she knew it.

“Oh…asshole”, she chortled, “It may not be over yet, but the fat lady is warming up and they’re polishing the Stanley Cup.”

The vice grip of her thighs was as crushing as her vice grope in my shorts was highly arousing. There is nothing like being caught between the thighs of a woman and being completely helpless. Reflexively, I brought my hands to the side of her hips while ineffectively pawing the active, full roundness of her glutes. The sheer power in her legs was awe inspiring and she was fully versed in the art of stimulating a man. As she ravaged me on multiple fronts, I caught Naomi glimpsing over her shoulder to witness the massacre that she was inflicting. She beamed with imminent victory.

The overall effect of her scissors was debilitating. I was becoming light headed and I was seeing stars. Naomi, however, didn’t want to finish me off this quickly. A purely competitive sadist, she wanted to extend the the experience of her domination. Without warning, Naomi popped open her crushing scissors. In my dazed state, I was impotent in my resistance as Naomi rolled me over and aggressively mounted my back. Landing on top of my butt, she couldn’t help herself and launched into a few playful pelvic thrusts. “Mr Crippler is going to have a fine time with this little ass”, she joked. Naomi was SO droll, just ask her — she’d tell you herself.

Naomi was moving quickly and efficiently now, shifting her attack posture so that she could straddle my lower back. With dread, I knew where she was going next. Positioning her knees under my armpits, Naomi lifted my arms on to the tops of her thighs and then — pulling back with both hands under my chin — she had me. I was DEEP into a camel clutch, with a side order of chin lock in Naomi's Waffle House of Pain and she was leveraging both to optimal effect.

“You and Blondie always seem to like catching me in this one”, Naomi noted, “Let’s see how you like it.”

Using her chin lock, Naomi had me facing decidedly skyward, completely arching my back, almost to the point of breaking. It was so pronounced that she was easily able to make full eye contact and observe the agony that she was creating with her technique — and as it illustrated in the pained expressions on my face — first hand. She bit her lower lip seductively as she watched me strain against her. It was very definitely a turn-on for her to see me like this and to know that she was exerting complete control over another person.

Drunk with power, she lowered her lips to my ears and whispered her intimate truth, “I LOVE to watch you struggle, baby.” Of that, I had little doubt.

After a time, Naomi released her chin lock and used her elbows to contain my arms — along with any hope of escape — thereby liberating her hands to enact whatever cruelty her heart desired. What her heart specifically desired was added torment — so she took that opportunity to add pleasure to her imposed pain — delicately circling both of my nipples rhythmically to highly arousing effect.

“I am going to make you shiver and I am going to make you scream”, she growled, fully aware of her predatory preeminence, “I want to hear you beg and then I’ll consider my options. You’re my fucking toy, bitch!” She gnawed and licked sensuously at my ear like an animal.

As I hung helplessly — almost in crucifixion — across the tops of her incredibly sturdy highs, I could feel my reserves of energy fading and I was certain that Naomi could as well. With hope abandoning me, I felt her frame my head for a sleeper hold followed by her flipping us both onto her back. Once again, as she had done with such coordination the night before, she stripped me of my boxers using nothing but her almost prehensile feet, leaving my fully erect manhood exposed and easy pickings for anything she might desire.

“You have such a lovely COCK”, she emphasized, while stroking me with the soft, wrinkly soles of her feet, “Are you almost ready for all this to cum to a head?” She giggled at her own comedic invention. I felt I should mention that laughing at your own jokes was lame, but I didn’t, remaining in the spirit of the moment and with the intent to not incite her further.

Her technique with in servicing my shaft with her feet was flawless and overwhelming. Coupled with the lack of oxygen that was resultant from her sleeper hold, all sensations became acute, driving me well past the edge. Once all the way gone, I showered her supple feet with a barrage of ovum. She moaned with satisfaction as she felt the warm spew erupt over her. Naomi held me in place, choosing to play in my exhausts, spreading the mess all over my groin and upper thighs. She was overjoyed with her own talents, like a pre-schooler bringing home their first finger painting.

“Oh you BAD BOY”, she chided in a seductive tone, “Looks like you’ve made a naughty mess. Whatever will I do to punish you?”

She wrapped her legs around me and mercilessly tightened every muscle in her body to their full strength. She was intent on signing her dominant masterpiece with a final flourish. I quickly felt consciousness leave my body. The soundtrack of my defeat was her laughter that gurgled with true joy.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard a voice.


It called to me from far away.

“Always SO sleepy…”

Slowly sensation began to creep back into my reality.

"Hey...asshole, c'mon...."

Fingers were playing with my left nipple and something was poking me in my right hip.

“C’mon now, baby. Do you really want to sleep all day?”

Her endless right leg was resting on mine. Light began to fill the darkness.

“There he is”, I heard her say as my eyes flickered awake.

Naomi was cuddling in tight next to me. She had her gorgeous head propped up on her left hand, looking at me and bathing in the glow of complete victory. She had already taken the time to wardrobe herself with both the “Frankie says RELAX” oversized tee and her "Weapon of Ass Destruction", The Crippler. She was beside herself with mirth and giddiness.

“So…best two out of three”, she noted, with great statistical accuracy “I got TWO…you know what that means, right?”

“I have a pretty good guess”, I responded. She was BEAUTIFUL, even if my anus was about to become a toll route.

“This is a REALLY BIG cock”, she offered, fully aware of the girth of the synthetic penis that she was tapping against my right hip.

“I kinda noticed”, I replied, “I’m used to calculating those things in inches, not square feet.”

She tossed her head back and laughed. Then brought her face down to an inch or two of mine so that she could look me right in the eyes.

“Have you EVER had something THIS BIG inside of you?”, she asked with mock seriousness. Her Green-Gold eyes danced and sparkled with electricity.

“I can honestly say no”, I replied.

“Let me tell you, the key is to breathe through the discomfort and there is A LOT of discomfort with a cock THIS BIG”, she said knowingly and then paused to demonstrate some comically exaggerated deep breathing techniques. She was such a ham, it made me want to severely fuck her — not that it was a realistic option at the moment given the circumstances — but I wanted to monkey fuck her like a crazed baboon on Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. Explain that shit to the viewers, Marlin Perkins.

She smiled broadly. God what a beauty -- she definitely wasn't helping make the monkey love urges go away.

“You aren’t scared of anything, are you?”, she questioned.

I replied, “I think fear only limits you. I refuse to be limited, other than when you truss me up with those damn legs of yours.” I was actually making an effort at being sincere again, in stark contrast to my usual default.

She kissed me.

“I like that”, she exclaimed, continuing, “I like YOU. I want you to keep coming back to play with me.”

“I think that can definitely be arranged, that is if I can still walk after today”, I replied.

With that Naomi quickly rolled off the bed and landing on her feet with her trademark agility. She stripped off the mammoth dildo and hopped back into bed without missing a beat.

“What? No Crippler?”, I asked her.

“I may need to break you in a little slower than I originally planned”, Naomi giggled, adding in her best baby voice “You seem like a delicate widdle man.”

As always, she laughed — fully entertained by her own genius. She was a ridiculously fun girl, though — I had to admit — so very different from how I originally imagined her all those years ago.

“So what’s next?”, I asked her.

“Well”, she purred, “while I may not be tearing you a new asshole right this minute, I think I’ll have you entertain me for a while — MAYBE while I wear this shirt. I think this will be my official championship belt. You’ve made me love this shirt all over again.”

She climbed on top of me, pushing me down flat by my shoulders.

“Who’s the champ, baby?”, she demanded.

“I guess you are.”

“You guess? Let's try this again”, she cooed, “who’s the champ?”

“You are”, I finally admitted

“Mmmmmmmmm…come HERE!”, she delighted while pouncing on me, ready for more.

It looked like it would be a late start to the workday…

To be continued...

Last edited by HermanDG; 25-Oct-17 at 12:05.
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