Big Dragon 2: The Greek Goddess
by Esperanto Grrl
Big Dragon did what he usually did when he had something on his superhuman brain: he was exercising his magnificent muscled body inside his personal, private gym, one of the most complete in the world. And like the ancient Greeks, he did it in the nude, with sweat filming over his flawless, golden brown and exotic Oriental skin, beading and forming into tiny rivers that trickled over his cavern-deep cut definition. His weight sets were specially designed and shipped just to max out the power of his mighty, godlike muscles that made heavy metal as light as cork wood to him, a level of physical development unknown to any other man who ever lived.
Big Dragon’s exercises hoisted weights equal to the steel of small trucks. With each chest press he pumped, the ground shook with a tremor as the weight struck the ground with each finished rep. The metal of the bar that Big Dragon grasped oozed and yielded between his fingers like a potter’s hand in wet clay, leaving the perfect imprint of his hand and fingers upon it, fingerprints and all. Such was the force of Big Dragon’s grip, produced by dense forearms shaped like a trapezoid, several inches wider at the elbow than the wrist. Big Dragon could crush a rock to powder with a squeeze, and with a handshake, he could easily crush every single bone in a man’s hand as if they were Doritos.
The weight plates that the Chinese He-Man placed to his bar were over 150 pounds each, and each one was the size of a manhole cover and the thickness of a man’s hand...and this was for the dumbbells. Big Dragon was getting stronger everyday. He was an easygainer, and when he slept he could feel his muscles growing. The Asian stud was a youthful 25, and at his physical peak.
Big Dragon was rough with equipment in his workout. His specially designed treadmill, even though set at the highest possible setting, was pounded and pounded by his piston-pumping feet and powerful legs as he ran as quick as a seal swimming or a speed skater running, only it was him on bare feet. Big Dragon could run a mile in three minutes. The belt hissed with smoke after only a few minutes of his feet. After an hour, the belt and machine tore in half. Big Dragon, with the endurance of a Sherpa crossed with a champion marathon runner, wasn’t even breathing hard, and his heartbeat ticked like a metronome. Big Dragon moved on to another treadmill. He could afford to replace it, after all.
While working out, Big Dragon’s mind was hardly idle. Simultaneously he was performing advanced algebraic calculations within his head while listing the roster of all the kings of Latvia. When he worked the leg press, his hands were busy: the horny Asian muscle stud completed Rubix cubes, and on average finished one every twenty-five seconds.
Big Dragon’s arms bulged to measuring tape snapping dimensions, his biceps coming to a point. Each arm weighed forty pounds by itself. Just for fun, Big Dragon grasped a pair of phone books, and tore them in half as if they were made of wet paper.
Big Dragon’s Martial Arts skills and speed were also tested in his workouts. His punches struck concrete like a thunderbolt, shattering it with a shower of flakes and stone. He could punch ten times a second; even high speed cameras barely picked up Big Dragon’s motions. Big Dragon was as faster than the average man as he was strong; not only could he catch a paintball in mid-flight, there was some speculation as to whether he could catch a bullet. The punching bags, made of solid steel and filled with titanium ball bearings, were shattered and broken. The walls themselves had holes as if they were created by a grenade launcher. It took $6000 and six men to repair the Martial Arts practice room every time he used it.
At the gymnastics bar, Big Dragon spun and whirred as precisely as the innards of a Swiss watch, at the speed of a blade whirling inside of a blender. Big Dragon’s form was so perfect and flawless and beautiful that some men that have watched him were moved to tears.
Big Dragon had an enormous, fully stocked swimming pool beside his private gym. The Asian muscle stud dived from a 45 foot pedestal, striking the water with an absolutely nonexistent splash, hitting the water as silently as a low-flow toilet flush. The Chinese He-Man swam like a dolphin beneath the water, not moving his huge arms and keeping them to the side of his body, and without any break or ripple to indicate he was below...yet moving with a speed like a torpedo on steroids. Big Dragon’s lung capacity was so great that he could remain underwater so long without a gasp, that some swear he can breathe underwater.
When Big Dragon finished his incredible laps, he rose from the water and tossed back his thick mane of long black hair. Though he was perfectly naked, and the water was frigid, Big Dragon’s thick dangling python slapped his thighs when he walked, his mushroom head at the level of his knees. It was even possible to make out the tattoo he sported on his donkey-enviable length, “PROPERTY OF MORGAN TATOPALOUS.” Big Dragon was immune to shrinkage. Even thoroughbreds would be forced to whinny in envy and inadequacy at its dimensions even when soft. The size of Big Dragon’s battering ram sized tool was hardly a secret. Late night comedians worked Big Dragon’s tent pole stiffie as the punchline of their monologue jokes, a standup staple worse than Monica and airline peanuts put together.
There was a story Big Dragon pleasantly remembered. In a sauna locker room in Thailand, where men cavorted naked, he removed his towel in order to fit in. When he did, all conversation in the locker room ceased. The very next day, every single other person had a towel around their waist.
In the corner where his clothes were kept Big Dragon’s cell phone rang. Judging by the tone, it was a call by his friends and cronies, Joe Skunk, Professor Placeholder, and the Andalusian beauty and lipstick lesbian, Anna Vazquez. The Asian stallion ignored it. He did not have them accompany him when he worked out because no living person could keep up with his workouts.
And besides, he had something else on his mind that was vastly more important by an order of magnitude: it was on his pinky, a ring with a band made of platinum and a pure white gem. It was 2.5 million years old. No human hand shaped it. It was a computer ring that used advanced mathematics to alter reality retroactively by the will of the user. Extraterrestrials used this ring to “create” protohumans from anthropoids in the Great Rift Valley and for some baffling reason left it behind...for Big Dragon to discover inside a cabinet drawer of his New York skyscraper apartment.
Incredibly, this was not even the most astonishing thing Big Dragon learned from the computer ring.
The alien computer ring had been used by Morgan, Big Dragon’s girlfriend, to give herself a boyfriend upgrade retroactively. Big Dragon’s mighty heart skipped a beat when he learned how different he originally had been. Big Dragon now looked down at the top of the heads of every crowd. “Originally,” he learned his height had been five-foot-five. No flab could be pinched anywhere in Big Dragon’s titanium-hard body, that to the touch was like rocks placed inside a pillowcase. Originally, however, Big Dragon had been a ferretlike couch potato instead of a gutsy, fearless world traveler, he-man, and daredevil.
Morgan rewrote reality thoroughly. Instead of being a prodigy that graduated from medical school at age 12 with the highest IQ ever recorded, Big Dragon was originally dopey and unmotivated. Most unpleasantly of all, he learned he was not originally Chinese at all...a fact that astonished him because being Chinese was so much a part of who he was. He was further astonished to learn that his Plain Jane and unremarkable adopted kid sister was originally his mother!
All this – his becoming a billionaire before twenty...all this was a horny daydream by his stud-loving girlfriend Morgan? It was like discovering he was a fictional character.
In a weird way, it all made sense. Why would a super-eligible bachelor like himself, the deepest masturbation fantasy of billions of women from teenaged girls on MySpace to unsatisfied housewives, a physical marvel that had an astonishing 43 Guinness World’s Records under his belt, an inexhaustible virile superstallion with an almost mythological penis that was unmatched by even porn stars, date a pretty but ordinary barely legal punk Greek girl from Astoria, Queens? The press and tabloids were baffled, for no more unlikely duo ever existed, in terms of sheer confusion putting to shame Claudia Shaffer/David Copperfield or Britney/K-Fed.
Big Dragon never thought of it that way before. He so loved Morgan that he could never think of her in any way as being lesser or lower. To him she was a princess that he worshipped and the media was crazy for not seeing it.
At the thought of Morgan: her smell, her slender, fragile body, Big Dragon started to stiffen between his legs, solidifying to the point he could barely see straight, his huge anaconda calcifying. Most ordinary men had at least a dozen erections a day, half of them while sleeping. Big Dragon, with his burning, legendary libido, had 36 in 24 hours. His member rose so high that the tip of it was over his stomach and between his pectorals.
How could Big Dragon possibly be mad at Morgan? He owed her everything. And perhaps it was time for Big Dragon to get himself a girlfriend upgrade, too. Big Dragon loved Morgan for her feistiness...it would be hard to change a thing about her. Big Dragon hated useless girls and socialites and loved how his little punk girl was two-fisted and gutsy and practical and tough and has elbow grease and who knows how to get things done.
He hated it when she was helpless, and had to be kept separate from his friends and their journeys, like the Asian stud’s attempt to cross below the North Polar ice in a submarine of his own design, or his attempt to fish for a Great White Shark off the Barrier Reef. He hated working out by himself because nobody on earth could keep up. Despite being a world-famous celebrity, and the sexiest stud alive, Big Dragon was a very lonely person.
Big Dragon resolved that he was going to use the computer ring to make Morgan his equal – mentally and physically.
Big Dragon raised the ring up, and mentally, he willed it to hypnotically bring Morgan into his presence.
Slowly the door to the pool started to open, as Big Dragon placed his hand behind his back. Morgan’s slender, tight and petite five-foot-three body was in a jet black, nearly transparent nightgown, sleeping off the unreal exhaustion given by hours and hours of lovemaking.
When Morgan saw Big Dragon’s wet body in a towel, her eyes went wide and she was startled as if she was punched, her mouth hanging open. Big Dragon’s size and knee-weaking handsomeness often triggered this reaction, even in people that knew him for a long time.
“Hey baby. I was sleeping and I suddenly got the strangest need to see you work out, watch how you got all those big muscles.” Morgan said with a croak, her voice still hoarse from screaming during lovemaking.
“Hey baby. I usually have something for you every time I see you. I was going to get flowers, but I have a feeling you’d like a diamond ring better.” Big Dragon said, as he pulled his hand out from behind his enormous back and held the platinum computer ring on his finger up to Morgan.
“Oh. Oh my God.” Morgan said. “Baby, you’ve got to understand I never – “
Big Dragon spoke, his powerful, sexy deep voice quieting her. “Relax, sugar. I’ve got an early Christmas present for you. I’m going to make you the perfect woman, the hottest, most desirable babe ever. A gorgeous, sophisticated dame that’s an international playgirl and the darling of the beautiful people. The kind that can give a roomful of guys stiffies by just walking past. I’ve had it up to my neck with that crumb, Jay Leno, doing monologue jokes at your expense.”
Morgan exhaled. “Wow, that’s a relief.” She said. “I like how you think, baby. Promise me you won’t tamper with my memories?”
Big Dragon smiled. “I’ll will the computer ring when I alter you retroactively, but I’m telling it to extend my immunity for remembering how things really happened onto you. Besides, I want you to remember how you used to be. It’ll make it more...fun.”
Morgan started to laugh. “Nice! One thing, though. I don’t want to be some stupid girl or bimbo with a great rack. I want to be a badass bitch.”
“You got it, but let’s start with the basics, eh?” Big Dragon said, hoisting his ring up. “First, I’m going to make you hot.” He said.
Morgan frowned at him.
“Ah, I mean to say, I want you to look to everybody else the way you already look to me.” Big Dragon said, without missing a beat. Morgan’s frown became a warm, loving grin. Big Dragon was a smooth operator for sure. Raising the ring up, he blasted Morgan with the beam.
Morgan’s features had changed. She was still a peaches and cream skinned, gray eyed punk girl with raven dreadlocked hair, but her face was vastly more feminine, as extraordinary as that of any model. Her black lipstick clad, glossy lips that smelled of strawberries thickened to the point they were downright bee-stung and kissable, her features becoming aristocratic instead of common, her black eyelashes growing to be nearly a half-inch. A beauty mole formed at the corner of her thick lips. Morgan even had light freckles around her nose. When it was finished Morgan was not just the equal, but the superior of the great “It Girls” of the 20th Century. Marylin Monroe, Bo Derek seemed downright plain beside the Goth goddess.
Big Dragon started to spring so hard his towel fell to the ground, his member rising between his pecs. He noticed the ring buzzing on his finger metallically. “Hmmm, that’s strange. Does it always buzz when you change reality around?”
The now ethereal Morgan nodded.
“Hmmm. That may be significant.” Big Dragon said.
“Huh? What are you thinking?” Morgan confessed she had paid no attention to the sound the ring makes or its significance, but then again she had neither Big Dragon’s keen hearing or his 20-pound brain.
“I have a suspicion this ring may be more than what it seems, and that buzzing sound is the key. I’ll have to take the ring and run a test later.” The Chinese stud smiled a dimpled, sexy smile of his in an inscrutable way. Morgan knew she wasn’t getting any more information from him today.
Big Dragon blasted Morgan again, and her clothes evaporated into the darkness. “Now for some measurements.” He said. With that, his ring fired a beam like a spotlight on Morgan’s naked body.
Morgan started to feel her slim hips widen to womanly dimension, her waist becoming pinched and narrow and the cute little rolls of fat that lined her body wisped into the ether. She felt her hips widen, as something else exploded behind her: her smooth ass, filling and thickening. Her ass assumed a shape that was peachlike, but the size of a baby, and tight enough to bounce a quarter. Morgan’s black girl, hip-hop ass looked as if balloons were stuffed behind her leg. It resembled a basketball slit in half. Her apple-shaped ass was made for booty shorts, the kind of bubbly, thick round butt that when she meant to stand up from sitting, kept her sitting down. The kind of hard ass that would leave a perfectly duplicated groove on any place that she sat down on. Each ass cheek by itself, was the same thickness as her leg. The manta ray wing-like swell of her hips and her bulbous, womanly ass gave Morgan’s body a shape like a spoon.
This was not all. Morgan’s pantherlike, sculpted legs lengthened until her body’s length was nearly two thirds leg. Her stomach flattened and became as firm and hard as a bellydancer’s, with a cute little navel pierced with a brass ring and stud. The narrow small of her back was lined with a tattoo. When seen in silhouette, long-legged Morgan had a body with curves like a cokebottle.
Then, Morgan’s breasts started to explode out from her firm, hard nubs that were seated on her chest, until they started to swell out, assuming truly pneumatic, Kilimanjaro-like zeppelin dimension, her cleavage trenchlike and ample, and in defiance of gravity they jiggled up instead of down when she moved.
Morgan popped her back into an arch like a bow, causing her breasts to thrust out like the nosecone of a rocket, her nipples pointing like a Doberman pinscher. “You horny bastard, I knew it was just a matter of time before you got to these. My old mother from Mykonos told me to never trust a Chinaman.” Morgan said with a grin.
“Hey, when you put this big salami pecker in my shorts, gweilo girl, I didn’t make a peep in complaint. Ever try horseback riding with this thing? Anyway, I’m sure you’ll love living life measuring 44EE-22-44.” Big Dragon said. “Open up and say ahhh, lover.” At that, Big Dragon blasted Morgan’s throat with the ring. Her voice became a deep lusty purr, a husky whisper, like that of a 1930s movie star, a voice like a cross between Kathleen Turner and the very best phone sex operator in the world, but powerful enough to shake the walls of the building.
“You know, I was just thinking how hot you’d be as a bisexual, you know. If you liked women too.” Big Dragon said, blasting her with the ring.
“You, ah...don’t need the ring to make that happen.” Morgan said with a mischievous smile, twirling a bit of her black dreadlocked hair around her finger.
Big Dragon was flummoxed and at a loss. “Oh. Daaaamn. You’re a little spitfire.” He said. “Well, I said I needed a woman to keep up with me and I meant it.” Big Dragon flashed the computer ring at the woman’s naked body. “Now this time I want to be surprised by how you look, so I’m going to turn around now.” Big Dragon did so, the pool lights casting the shadow of his perfect, rippled, brawny and cut muscleman body onto Morgan, a shadow nearly the size of a king size bed. Morgan could see his member in between his legs even when he had turned around, dangling below his thick, clenching bulbous ass.
The very sight of Big Dragon’s naked body made Morgan feel dizzy. Big Dragon was a sculpted, magnificently muscled stallion of a male body. She was face to face with the enormous dragon tattoo on his back.
Morgan felt her body swelling and filling up as if she was a balloon with air. Underneath her peaches and cream clear white skin were lumps of flesh, rolling under her skin and assembling and affixing itself to her in proper places. Morgan noticed her shoulders started to acquire a clear diamond-shaped definition, her shoulder tattoo broken by a v-shaped deltoid. Touching her stomach, the Greek punk girl felt her fingers strum hard, cut cobblestone muscles that were individually delineated. Her legs started to shift and become as lithely muscled as a panther’s, her thighs and haunches to the touch were as hard as hot, naked steel.
Morgan felt her back harden, each individual muscle thickening until it became a rockhard, strong and athletic back of the sort that looked sexy in backless evening dresses. Morgan’s eyes went wide when she saw her previously slim arms start to form cut muscles like a professional tennis player, her biceps, when flexed, starting to form into a cute little ball on the top of her arm the size of a pair of golf spheres. The thorn ring tattoo along her bicep distorted and stretched when her biceps flexed.
“This is so great. I can’t wait to start beating people up! Damn I’m a big, bad bitch.” Morgan said with an avaricious giggle. She did not notice when she started to shoot up even further.
“Wow. How big is this going to get?” Morgan wondered. She started to notice the wet, tiled ground of the public pool start to become further and further away as she increased in height to truly statuesque, elegant, womanly dimensions, the height of glamorous models or volleyball players. She could feel her bones tingle as they stretched and grew thicker and denser and longer. Morgan had guessed she cracked the six-foot mark some time prior.
Not only was her height increasing, so were the powerful muscles that lined her body. She could feel her breasts shift and elevate as plates of pectoral muscle shifted and rose beneath them like new islands rising from the bottom of the sea. Morgan clenched her pecs together, causing her enormous, generous breasts to shimee and collide together with a sound like the shifting of fluid, her breasts rising and falling and shaking without her ever having to touch them with her hands, shifting them until their motions became a vibrating blur. Morgan’s bouncy, elastic breasts, perky as they were huge, continued to rise and fall even afterward.
Morgan felt her body move strangely, as her back started to curve into an immense v-shape like a cobra’s hood, her feminine waist narrowing. Her arms thickened to the point they rivaled most male athletes, yet still were feminine and narrow. Her pecs started to form into hard concrete blocks that thrust out several inches from her sternum. Morgan’s thighs became thick with teardrop-shaped muscles, her calves bouncing behind her shin as thick as many men’s waists as if several rolled up socks had been stuffed behind her. Morgan’s arms were the thickness of telephone poles, with biceps that moved under her skin with the slightest change in the position of her hand on her thigh; the lengthy tattoos that she sported moved as if alive when her triceps moved under her clear skin like cats in a sack. Her forearms were thicker than a pot roast. Her neck was barrel-thick and lined with muscles like steel cords.
The punk girl ran her hands along her now powerful, sensual body with a lustful caress, her gray eyes wide as saucers at the sight of herself. One could almost see the wavering lines of heat from her clear skin, which was now the thickness of rhino hide.
Morgan was at eye-level with Big Dragon now. She was amazed to see her giant, powerful lover be her exact size. Morgan moved to her lover whose dragon-tattooed back was turned to her, and wrapped her pythonlike powerful arms around his waist, her hard skin grinding on his with such friction that sparks could fly off, the heat of her husky, cinnamon-spiced breath coming on his neck as she spoke in her knee-weakeningly sexy, honey-dripping voice that emerged from her thick barrel neck. “Surprise, lover.” The supersexy Goth girl said. Her voice was powerful enough to shake the walls of the building.
Her arms squeezed hard enough to knock the wind out of Big Dragon’s lungs. Morgan’s generous, thick breasts squeezed softly and pressed into Big Dragon’s back. Her nipples, mounted on aureoles three inches wide, stiffened until they were hard enough to cut glass and pressed against her lover’s back. The Goth Goddess’s body and his were met perfectly in terms of dimensions; she saw her shoulders were his size, and her back was as wide as his as well. Morgan wrapped her arms and with an astonishing feat of strength, she lifted her 400-pound Asian lover up off the ground six inches. At this display of strength, Big Dragon’s member stiffened like a flagpole, quivering and twitching to life. Morgan could feel her powerful, ox-strong heart thunder inside her chest beside his. Morgan released him and placed him to his feet. She stepped back, her feet cracking the concrete of the ground with each step.
“I was just thinking through about your life’s story a bit.” Big Dragon said. “You had ordinary parents in Queens, but amazingly you escaped genetic destiny to be the most beautiful girl ever born. You were born naturally huge...15 pounds in the delivery room, and went your whole life aggressive, bigger than all the boys and people in your class. You had a muscle-building condition, as a result of decreased myostatin levels. You started to develop early – almost at age 11, which is when you sprouted up and started to grow overdeveloped. Oooh, I can just imagine how you’d fill up one of those cute little school uniforms with your big bust, your ass cheeks bouncing behind, your shirt tied up over your narrow waist. By age 14, you were six feet tall, and were the first girl quarterback in history at a college football team. You could throw that ball like a cannon hard enough to send it out of the stadium. And you sure did look cute in those tight little pants of yours, especially when you wore under it a nice Brazilian thong. Don’t forget about tackling. You sent about five or six poor suckers to the hospital, not to mention knocking guys down like bowling pins. Putting you in the game was like dropping an atomic bomb on the football field. They give you your nickname – the Greek Goddess.” Big Dragon said.
“Wow. You’d better believe this is more than a match for that cow-busting cock of yours, stud. Oooo-eee! ‘The Greek Goddess.’ I like the sound of that. And here I was thinking that I was the creative one.” She said.
“Whoa, whoa, wait, it gets better.” Big Dragon said. “You’ve been at college ever since you were ten years old, because you were an advanced prodigy. Your mental development was always equal to your physical development. You got an academic scholarship at first – based on an admissions letter that you wrote that used so many difficult words even the admissions people could barely comprehend it - but your scholarship then became athletic when you turned 14, and they waived a phenomenal amount of rules to get you on the field. At first it was baseball, but then when you hurled the ball at 145 miles per hour and it sent the catcher behind you flying back like he was hit by a car, they decided maybe men’s football was a better sport.”
Big Dragon continued. “You played it for four years for free, in which time you won the all time men’s college football rushing and consistent win record, most tackles, most yards covered...and another four years after that for a total of eight years, until you were 22 – time enough to get four doctoral degrees: Medicine, Law, Geology, Particle Physics, and a Master’s in Electrical Engineering and Spanish Literature, as well as an MBA. Not to mention magna cum laude and graduating at the top of your class. With your statistics and average number of points per game, they say you’ll probably be considered the greatest college football player that ever lived. That’s why they kept you in despite some...ha ha...discipline problems that were hushed up. You know, underaged drinking. Starting some fights – those nine guys had to be hospitalized that time.”
“All those Castleton snobs.” Morgan sniffed. “I love the irony of it. Wait, you said 22? I’m eighteen now.” Morgan’s flawless gray eyes went wide. “Ohhh, I get it.”
With a flash from the ring, Morgan felt her forehead increase an inch as she felt her brain swell and her neurons triple in size inside of her head, flooded with a startling grasp of every topic from glacier formation to Shakespeare’s the Iliad. Her vocabulary quadrupled. She spoke at least 46 languages. Her brain’s cranial capacity too, swelled. An average human was 1400 cubic centimeters. Hers was 1800 cubic centimeters. She placed a finger at her temple and noticed that her skull had a different shape. It wasn’t visible when she had hair, but there was a swell at her temple.
“Fascinating.” Morgan said. Her gray eyes assumed a sudden intensity and clarity instead of being dull and glassy, as if she looked at everything with significance. If Morgan walked past a parking lot, she could likely remember the license plates of every single car.
“Well, okay, from the football stuff you were a household name from the time you were 14 or so. By sixteen you were six-foot-three, by eighteen, six-foot-six. That pictorial you did for Playboy – on your very eighteenth birthday – was the best selling issue of that magazine that year. It had you on the cover with a football jersey tied up over your hard, washboard abs, right over a pair of lace panties.” He said.
“Okay, and then there’s your insatiable sexual libido: sometimes it takes three ordinary men to satisfy you. When you don’t get any sex, you have to play with yourself five or six times a day to still be restless.” Big Dragon said. “You have a big vagina – a real cavern. Nobody ever has filled you up before, ‘cept yours truly. At the same time, you have incredible muscular control. You can fire a dart out of your pussy. What’s more, you can clench your pussy muscles together in such a way so as to make most men blow their loads instantly.” Big Dragon smiled at this point. The ring buzzed as it made it so.
Big Dragon continued. “You were born an incredible all-round athlete, a winner of the genetic lottery – beyond Olympic level in every sport from hurdle-leaping to sprinting. You’d need cheetahs to keep you company in a dash. You have incredible physical endurance, too, and are nearly inexhaustible; you can outlast Tibetan Sherpas and Marathon runners.”
“I love the Martial Arts business. Ha ha! Like one of the Charlie’s Angels. But all this is so familiar.” Morgan laughed musically, as she turned from side to side and flexed her new, gigantic muscles as hard as cords of titanium steel playfully. When she clenched her thick arms, her biceps sprang out like a craggy peak the size of a grapefruit, nearly the same height as the rest of her arm, so defined each of the two individual muscles that made her bicep were developed. Morgan ever wondered if she was ever going to get used to being so strong. She practiced tightening and squeezing her powerful, teardrop shaped thighs – it was like a pair of bounders rubbing against each other. The epically proportioned female titan cooed with a sigh of approval. She couldn’t want to go clothes shopping in this body.
“Well, you always said you were the creative one.” Big Dragon laughed. “Damn, girl, you look loaded as a pistol.” He said. His Pringles-can sized cock started to stiffen again, giving the impression of a python sliding down his leg ever so slowly. “After you turned eighteen, you started work as a supermodel.”
The gigantic, gorgeous Greek goddess scowled at Big Dragon.
“Okay...” Big Dragon said. “You’re a...a...oooh...” He scratched his chin. “...an international freelance troubleshooter! Mercenary, the world’s most highest paid. You usually work for world governments. They say the CIA pays you $5 million per kill, higher per given missions, but foreign governments pay more. Sometimes CNN often follows you around to cover some of your high-kills.” He said. “In addition to your Martial Arts, you’re a bullseye and a crack shot – in fact, I doubt you’ve ever missed in your life. And you’re a demolitions expert, too, and you’ve got down stealth, bow-hunting, wilderness survival, tracking and camouflage. You could take out a platoon of Navy SEALS without a breath. You use a specially modified automatic machine pistol of your own design, a type of mother-of-pearl handled gun, shoots bullets so fast it’s like a machine pistol. That’s just one of your wonderful little widgets – you’ve got tons of personal equipment, including a garage-full of vehicles for travel and battles: cars, trucks, motorcycles, speedboats, helicopters, the ‘Jungle Cat’ which is a special ruggedized SUV with tank treads, and a specially designed hummer with pop out turret that fires sidewinder missiles...”
Morgan’s scowl became a huge, wide grin. “Oh, I like the sound of that last thing. All missiles do is get me horny. And the merchandizing possibilities alone. Anyway, how am I going to date somebody high profile like you with all that, though?”
“Well, technically, as you work for governments and contracts you’re not really a criminal in most nations...though you are the most wanted criminal in over 90 countries. Think of it sort of like how Russian tennis players date Mafiosos, or how everybody knew, even though he pretended to be honest, that John Gotti was really a mobster.” Big Dragon explained.
“Anyway, with your government contract work, by your twentieth birthday, you had more money than Martha Stewart and Fort Knox.” He said. This time, the ring glowed so hotly that it started to burn the Asian muscle god’s pinky. Big Dragon removed it, and placed it aside. “I mean, we don’t want anybody to think with you dating me you’re a gold digger or anything.” Big Dragon laughed.
“I suppose I got all that by being smarter than the smarties and sharper than the sharpies. But hey, don’t be fooled by the rocks that I got, I’m still Morgan from the block.” Morgan said. Her naked, peaches and cream colored, flawless body moved like glycerin, and even when she moved casually, her flat, washboarded stomach turned hypnotically. She had catlike grace, and a double-jointed center of gravity. Morgan pumped out pheremones the way a factory pumped out smog, filling the entire room with her spicy, perfume-like feminine smell.
Big Dragon was only partially paying attention to Morgan. With a concentrated thought he made one more change to Morgan, one that he didn’t tell her about.
Big Dragon’s member sprouted out so far that even if he hugged someone, he could only touch their shoulders with his hands, and were he to walk around, it would smash objects around him like a bat with it were he not careful.
Morgan stared at her lover with undisguised lust with her gray eyes, with penciled eyeliner that made her resemble Cleopatra, bouncing and drinking his body, staring at him the way a lion looks at a zebra. Could she help it if she was a nymphomaniac? It was all the fault of hormones. The Greek Goddess was more amazed to note she could look Big Dragon directly in the eye, the two at the same height. Morgan took the burning hot ring inside of one of Big Dragon’s beach towels, each covering the same area as a pickup truck bed. She took it with her, as the pair of them, wordlessly, moved out from the pool area to the speeding turbo-elevator that led up to his – their – apartment. The elevator crossed five floors a second, but for the two lovers and their naked bodies, it could not move fast enough. The bull-hung Asian stud’s huge stiff organ ached.
Morgan grasped Big Dragon’s hard shoulders with her own corded, hot hands that could palm a basketball, and with a nudge with the power of a slam of a speeding freight train, the Greek Goddess slammed him hard against the surface of their enormous bed. He landed with a slam on his dragon-tattooed back. Morgan climbed over him like a raging tigress, her wide v-shape back arching, her pythonlike arms sliding over his like an octopus. Big Dragon could feel his balls start to shift and enlarge with hot seed, his balls visibly bubbling below the surface.
Morgan leaned close. “Damn, you’ve got a pair of big brass ones.” She said, as she grasped his legs at the ankle. With astonishing flexibility, Big Dragon’s lengthy, tree-trunk thick legs were split, allowing the Greek Goddess to thrust her face upon his orange-sized, churning balls. Morgan stuck out her new muscular, lengthy tongue, which was nearly eight inches in length and sandpaper-rough like a cat’s, yet as wide and thick as a basset hound’s. Morgan started to lap against his huge balls like waves against a shore, roughly and hotly brushing and lashing against his enormous gonads like a whirling cyclone. The cold of her tongue stud was shocking and stimulating.
Every inch of Big Dragon’s enormous balls were sensitive with nerves. His fists clenched the bed counters and he gritted his teeth, his almond, Oriental eyes rolling back with pleasure until they were nearly white. He could feel the muscles of his thirteen-inch meat burst with boiling-hot pre-cum like a volcano, each dribble of his hot bone slop grape-sized. He popped so hard that one bit even struck the ceiling with a splash. Morgan was all too happy to take the syrup-slow dribbles from the tip with her tongue. She kissed his reddish purple head.
The Greek Goddess then pulled her raven-haired head from between Big Dragon’ tree-trunk thick thighs and then, with astonishing strength, she flipped Big Dragon’s motorcycle heavy body over onto his huge chest with a shove, the Asian stud’s hard, bulbous ass and hips bobbing up.
Morgan raised her hand up and spanked her Big Dragon, striking his rock hard flesh with a sound like a crack of thunder which could be heard for several floors. She only spanked him once but she only needed to; the Greek Goddess could make a bull rhinoceros scream and cry. It was easily the hardest blow Big Dragon ever felt in his life; his teeth bit back to hold a scream and his eyes started to welt up red with tears. A perfectly duplicated imprint of Morgan’s hand, like a bruise, was left on his bubble-shaped ass. His ass flushed and instantly became a sharp red.
Morgan tossed her Asian lover roughly on his beefy, wide dragon-tattooed back, his full, erect beef thrusting up like a tent pole. Morgan lost no time in pressing her hard muscled body atop him, climbing over his body like a pawing predator. Morgan kissed him hungrily, a kiss that caused both his and her mouth to go concave as a fish’s, her thick lips acting as an airbag. Morgan’s kisses were a shocking sensation on the nervous system like a thunderbolt or being hit with a bucket of cold water. She tasted as sweet as honey with cinnamon and spices. Her thick, lengthy feline tongue was thick enough to fill Big Dragon’s entire mouth, almost triggering his gag reflex. Her pierced tongue pushed and almost wrestled his, pinning it down. Their kiss broke with an audible pop – Big Dragon felt as if his tongue was going to be pulled out from his mouth.
“Don’t worry,” The Greek Goddess breathed lustfully, “I’ll try not to hurt you.”
The Greek Goddess’s incredible six-foot-six height covered her Chinese muscle god like a rockhard, hot blanket. With a display of dancer’s flexibility, Morgan wrapped her elastic, flexible and above all lengthy legs around Big Dragon’s titanium-hard waist and chest, her ankles touching together in a crab maneuver as she squeezed tightly in a vice that whooshed the air out from his lungs. In a tug-of-war, Big Dragon could outpull and overpower 20 very strong men. Every man was a dwarf and a weakling beside Big Dragon. But here, Morgan was as strong as he and her huge thighs could not be overpowered by even his arms alone. Morgan grinned when she saw Big Dragon winced with pain at her squeeze; no human alive had ever made Big Dragon wince.
Morgan took Big Dragon’s meaty, pole-long moose-hung power-prod as she suddenly impaled her own muscular quinny against it. Morgan didn’t expect to feel this stuffed! Her huge snatch was hot as an oven, sensitive as if every single nerve in her body was concentrated there. Her pussy muscles had such incredible control that they felt like a combination between suction cups and conveyor belt, almost as if her quinny was “eating” Big Dragon’s great girth and endless length, pulling him inside.
“OHHHHH!” The Greek Goddess made a sound like a roaring, triumphant lioness. Big Dragon clenched the sheets with his fingers, his mouth open in an o-shape, but no sound coming out. Morgan, with rubbery, stretchy flexibility possible only for contortionists, stood herself up, her entire body bucking the man below her as if she was riding a stallion, pushing her 400 pound weight up and against him.
Morgan started to throttle and pound Big Dragon below her. The board of the bed banged into the wall with deafening loudness like a footpedal hammer into a bass drum. Big Dragon could feel his hips being pounded fiercely. And it wasn’t any time at all before the wooden legs of the bed gave way and the mattress bent and curved in like the shape of a taco.
Morgan screamed and snarled like a mating female carnivore. Big Dragon wrapped his huge hands around his lovely woman’s now voluminous breasts, cupping and massaging them, feeling the tit flesh ooze between his fingers. They were soft and real to the touch. Morgan was now developed naturally more so than most women with artificial aid. Morgan shuddered at his skilled touch, biting her lip lustfully; she clenched her EE-cup gravity-defying breasts together, trapping his fingers between their squeeze, which pinched at their tips almost like a bite. Big Dragon extended his unreal, lengthy gila monster tongue, and with a swab and dab around her tiny red aureoles he moved his tongue over where nerves were located; his tongue was almost electric to her. Morgan’s breasts almost glistened with the hot saliva from Big Dragon’s huge tongue, sliding over their bulbous, buxom surface.
Big Dragon then kissed the Greek Goddess’s thimble-sized nipples roughly, the hot breaths from his nose falling on her breasts’ sensitive surface. He then took her huge nipple in his mouth and to her great surprise he started guzzling from her breast – his mouth filling with hot milk from her, squirting with the high pressure of a water gun in his mouth.
Big Dragon grinned. “This was the last part I didn’t tell you about...” He said between hot, lusty breaths. “You produce milk that tastes sweet as butterscotch. Pound for pound though, it has more protein than any other liquid on earth. Plus, it’s awash with the hormones that gave you your body and muscles. Damn, I can’t wait to hit the gym after sex...”
The metal bedsprings of the mattress were crushed flat, broken and shattered like a car that was in a terrible accident. The ground itself quaked. Morgan hoped there was no one on the floor below they were, for with the power of her pumping her lover below, it must sound as if explosions are being set off in the floor above. Big Dragon slid his hands around Morgan’s upside-down-heart-shaped ass, each cheek of which even his hands barely able to cup their entire surface. With his grip, he started to stand up, effortlessly holding Morgan’s 400 pound weight upwards, with only his hands on her bulbous rear and his steel hard prick inside of her like a structurally supporting girder. Sometimes Big Dragon let his hands out and carried her with his stiff member alone.
Big Dragon pressed Morgan’s winglike, rockhard back into a wall, his steel girder still lodged within her for support, her huge mooing calves digging into the surface of his back. He and Morgan grinded against each other like the teeth of rusty gears inside of a watch, their powerful bodies colliding rhythmically with the anger of football tacklers.
The Greek Godddess’s back was perfectly duplicated on the stone that she was being pressed into, like an indentation of a too-tight watch on a wrist, and where her rockhard, armor-hard muscles met stone, it was the marble that gives way, shaking and breaking as Big Dragon drilled inside of Morgan.
Morgan felt as if a power drill was inside of her. She could feel his oversized, seed-filled bull balls bang against her ass and the inside of her thighs. The iron muscles of Morgan’s hot, wet pussy clamped on Big Dragon’s member like a stapler, squeezing and “milking” him like a cow’s udder. Each drenching pop of pre-cum was swallowed by her body. To Big Dragon, holding Morgan was like holding a berserk tigress. The pair were pressed together so tightly not even a piece of paper could be slipped between them.
Morgan grinned wickedly, then delivered her final move – her ‘cock-buster.’ She squeezed so tightly on Big Dragon that the Asian muscle stallion felt as if he was about to burst. Morgan could feel Big Dragon’s huge prong twitch inside her, like a guitar string being plucked.
And that was when Morgan heard the gurgle. Big Dragon threw his head back and screamed. “Ohhhh...MORGAN!” The power of his voice was such that his cry boomed like the bass of a rock concert. And with that, Big Dragon lost it, bursting with semen like a ruptured fire extinguisher, the thin slit of his penis becoming wide enough to let a pencil in as he burst like a rocket engine, with such volume that Morgan felt him and start to rocket and slip out of her with his seed as propulsion. Morgan clenched her kegels together tightly around his member – Big Dragon wasn’t going anywhere.
Big Dragon’s incredible orgasm lasted 45 seconds – each pop and burst shook Morgan’s insides violently as if she had attached her pussy to an open fire hydrant. The floor below them was as wet and damp as if a flood had passed through the room.
Astonishingly, Morgan could still feel Big Dragon’s huge girder inside of her. She started pulling him back inside by force of her dexterous pussy muscles alone.
The Greek Goddess grinned. “I hope you don’t think I’m satisfied yet...” She said, with a grin. The pair of them were barely breathing hard.
“Time to find out if that ‘sherpa/marathon runner endurance is bullshit.” Morgan said, with a look in her eye that made the mighty Big Dragon somewhat nervous.
Morgan caressed her hands over her oversized, endowed breasts, which could not be held in just one of even her hands. She flexed her pecs, causing her chest to rise and bounce. Then another. The gray-eyed Greek goddess shuddered. “These ones you gave me are fantastic. And natural, too.” Morgan said. “I’d love to feel you between them. I ought to have cleavage enough to take all of you in, you know.”
Big Dragon grinned. “I’m sure we can work something out, gorgeous.” Morgan felt Big Dragon remove his erect donkey-sized meat from between her legs inch by inch, with a wet pop. Morgan dropped to her knees and put her rubber-flexible back in a shape like a bow, her thick chest popping out, as Big Dragon drove himself in between her hot folds. Her breasts clenched and tightened around his member. Morgan could feel the heat of his rod captured in the folds of her breasts as if it was trapped inside a parka. Big Dragon’s ridged, thick head twitched and moved inside her; she could feel the blood pumping through it. Morgan tingled and shook with each touch of it, goose pimples bursting along her neck and arm.
Morgan tightened her pectorals together, causing her huge yet tight and firm breasts to shake and jiggle and slosh around Big Dragon’s bull-hung like crashing waves. Big Dragon was astonished to see he was nearly balls-deep inside of her. Morgan clutched Big Dragon’s huge biceps with her hands, her nipples pressing into his trunk-wide thighs.
Big Dragon’s member rumbled inside of Morgan’s breasts like the ground before an earthquake. Big Dragon hissed through his teeth. “Oh, I’m going to COME!” He said. And Morgan felt something splatter on her chest with a force as if she was shot by buckshot between her breasts. Pow! Pow! Pow! Big Dragon came with streamers of hot seed between her. He burst with a foamy, hot white gallon spray of his seed, covering Morgan’s hair until it looked like she had just gone swimming, coating her breast like streamers, covering her body until it dripped between her abs, in such volume that the color of her skin could not be seen.
After this, the pair thunderously fucked like gods naked as bucks inside their oversized Jacuzzi, double-sized to accommodate their legendary bodies, frothing the water twice as much as the bubbles. They made it on the kitchen floor, cracking the fragile tiles with their far harder bodies and pumps. Inside one of Big Dragon’s oversized chairs. Against one of his motorcycles. In the leather backseat of his hovercraft. She was on top, then he. The Greek Goddess made Big Dragon make all sorts of noises; gruff hissings from between his teeth, hot pants.
Finally, an astonishing 45 hours later – the sun rising and falling twice – a highly dehydrated Big Dragon let out a roar like a wounded bull, as he felt his member squirt a burst that was made up more of air than his seed...before it twitched, raw and sore, against his leg, lying still. Big Dragon had been to Mount Everest without an oxygen tank. He was nowhere near as exhausted as this session had left him. Big Dragon panted and gasped for air.
Both of them fell into a sleep that was more like collapsing into a coma. They went to a spare bedroom they hadn’t broken, the sheets covered in their sweat and pungent love fluids. It was doubtful even an explosion could awaken them.
It was sixteen hours later that the pair of them heard something to awaken them. It was a cel ringing.
Big Dragon moved out of the bed as if his entire body was made of lead, covered with a sheen of glistening sweat. His body was such that he could barely move.
Because of Big Dragon’s private satellite, the Hwang Ho (which turned cel-phone signals into radio waves for his own use), no region of the earth was considered to be “off limits” to his phone. Big Dragon picked the cel up. His good-natured, exotic features showed thoughtfulness and concern, for several minutes, before he looked up to Morgan.
“It was Joe Skunk, Professor Placeholder, and Anna Vazquez.” He said.
The Greek Goddess’s beautiful gothic features only showed puzzlement. “Who?”
“You mean you didn’t – With the ring I just assumed you had –“ Big Dragon said. “Well, anyway, they were in Antarctica. That’s where they called me from. And they found something. They didn’t know what it was, but I knew right away. They discovered a second computer ring.” Big Dragon said.
“And you’ll never believe who had it...or what they had done with it.”
END