Gina’s Sport

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Big Tits

As a sportswriter, I travel a lot and have the opportunity to meet a lot of women. But I’ve never met anyone like Gina.

My editor called to say he had an assignment for me, so I went in to meet with him and he told me what it was: a story on the female bodybuilding competitions. I wasn’t very excited about it. Watching and talking to a bunch of muscly women? No, thanks. But I needed work, so I took the job and figured I’d just get it over with as soon as possible.

That attitude changed almost as soon as I started. The story required me to go down state to a see an actual competition, and my editor arranged for me to attend a party that the sponsoring league was hosting night before. It was interesting, because although I’m shorter than average, I’ve gotten accustomed to talking with athletes and being around people much larger than me. But at the party, many of the larger people around me were women, and some of them were quite beautiful. Until that night, I had never experienced the feeling of being surrounded by superior power and being strongly attracted to it at the same time. My editor had hoped I could turn the article into a personality profile on someone, and a representative from the league suggested featuring Gina, one of the veteran competitors. He said he would send her my way. I circulated among the guests, collecting observations through small talk and eavesdropping. Then, as I stood at the bar, I heard a woman’s voice boom out behind me, “Little man!”

I turned around and saw a woman walking toward me with a smile on her face. She had on a sparkling evening dress, but was well-built and obviously one of the contestants. I felt myself flush at her calling attention to my size compared to hers. She was already tall, but in the high heels she wore for the formal event she positively towered over me.

“I’m Gina,” she said, and held out her hand. It was hard to know how to respond. She was stunning, with dark, Mediterranean skin and kinky black hair that fell past her shoulders. I raised my hand to hers, and she gave it a firm shake—stronger than mine, actually. Then I stammered my way through the conversation, and we agreed to do the interview the next evening, after the competition, in her hotel room.

The party piqued my interest about the contest, so I was excited to arrive and find that I’d been given a front-row seat. The contestants weren’t wearing very much—swimsuits, in fact, and fairly revealing ones. Sometimes the outline of their nipples was visible beneath the fabric, and when they turned around, I always got a generous view of tight, muscular glutes. Their bodies were tan, glistening with oil, and I found myself surprisingly aroused by the parade of bulging biceps and thighs. Gina, in particular, looked fantastic, smiling widely and obviously loving the stares of the judges and the audience. A red bikini wrapped around her body and disappeared between the cheeks of her ass. She struck a pose at one point, legs spread, arms up and flexing. I shifted in my seat, sweating through my pants, and pretended to take notes, scribbling across the page because I couldn’t think of anything to actually write. The judges ended up giving the title to a younger contestant I had hardly noticed, but Gina placed among the finalists, and I spent the next few hours anticipating the interview, entertaining fitful daydreams that made me so nervous that I skipped dinner.

When she answered the door she flashed a big smile and said, “Little man!” just like she had the night before.

I smiled, but I was disappointed to see she was dressed down in a t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. As we settled in, she asked if I actually had any experience in athletic competition. When I told her I used to wrestle in high şişli travesti school, she started teasing me, asking me if I enjoyed holding down other men. Then she challenged me to a match.

“No, I don’t think so,” I said.

But she persisted, and quickly stood up to put me in a hold.

“Like this, little man. How would you get free?”

“Well,” I started, and began to move. She tightened her grip, and I realized I wasn’t going to be able to avoid what she had been proposing. We tumbled to the floor, and in a few moments, I had her pinned. It had been too easy.

“Hey,” I said. “You let me win.”

She ignored me, but pushed her knee gently against my inner thigh and said, “Ooh, little man! You are not so little anymore!”

It was true. From the moment she touched me I had had a huge hard-on and couldn’t cover it up. Speechless, I felt my face turn flaming red and released my grip on her.

Gina gave me a big, knowing smile and pushed herself onto her feet. Somehow, though, I was frozen, and stayed right where I was, crouched on all fours, looking up at her like a dog begging at a banquet table. Meeting my gaze, she took off her t-shirt and yanked down her sweatpants to reveal a blue, barely-there one-piece that consisted of two thin strips that covered her jutting nipples and converged just above her crotch. Her body was muscular and bronze, except for a light tanline the width of a g-string that ribboned across her hips. I was mesmerized, and felt my penis pressing out now, trying to rise up inside my pantleg.

“So: would you like a rematch, little man?” she asked.

This time, I knew, she would not be holding back. This time, I was going to lose.

I let out a ragged “Yes,” and Gina got down on the floor next to me. I could feel myself trembling as we locked into position, and only a moment passed before she shouted, “Go!”

I struggled as best I could, but she was definitely stronger. Much stronger, in fact. I got away from the first hold she tried to put me in, but she held me very tightly and soon my arms were tired from the strain. From her position of advantage behind me, I thought I would end up stomach first on the carpet. But instead, when I stopped trying to resist, she turned me around and pinned me on my back. She hovered over me, holding me down at the elbows, and laughed triumphantly.

“You are no match for Gina!” she announced.

“No,” I agreed, trying to catch my breath.

“You are just a little man!”

She moved up my torso, setting down her knees down over my arms. I felt the heat emanating from between her thighs and stared at the thin glaze of moisture that coated her flesh. With her hands curled into fists and set on her waist, she said, “Do you give up? Do you give up to Gina?”

I nodded yes.

“Say it, little man! Tell me you give up!”

“I give up,” I whimpered, and she slid forward so that she could grind her big pelvic bulb into my face. It was forceful, and I tried to move, but she had put her thighs on either side of my head and locked me into place. Helpless, I surrendered as her weight, warmth and fragrance surrounded me. I opened my mouth and pressed my tongue against the slick material of her suit as she rubbed it back and forth. I looked up at her straddling me with an enormous grin on her face, reveling in her power and the ease of her conquest. She pulled aside the straps that covered her breasts and cupped one in each hand.

“Do you like my breasts, little man?” she taunted.

She raised a nipple to her mouth and began to suck it, while her other hand reached down and helped pull the juice-soaked swimsuit into the cleavage of her pussy lips. I kept licking, bakırköy travesti tongue to skin now, tasting the spicy gush flowing into my mouth. Gina touched her tongue to her nipple languidly, knowing I was watching and fully mad with desire. She was also pulling up on the thong of fabric that ran through her cunt, jerking it rhythmically against her clit. I sucked and licked as best I could, sweeping my tongue in wide strokes along the soft flesh of her pussy walls and the flickering movement of the thong.

With an approving groan, Gina stood up and stripped off the bikini. Then she held it up by one finger, gently swinging it back and forth over my face.

“Smell it,” she said, and I lunged up obediently, closing my eyes and pushing my nose into the tiny strips that dangled from her hand like the strings of a marionette. I heard her hum a short note of satisfaction as I took in a deep breath. I was about to take another one when she quickly turned around, facing my feet, and squatted down over my face. I was nearly kissing her bare, puckered anus.

“Give me your tongue, little man!” she said.

I had never done this before, and hesitated.

“Give it to me!” she commanded.

I did as I was told, tonguing the supple, wrinkly divot with tiny thrusts. She loved it. As I licked back and forth, around and around, she fell forward into a crouch, moaning with excitement. It was a little bitter at first, but I kept going and pretty soon all I tasted was a thick layer of my spit mixed with the juice that was gushing down from her cunt. I felt the clench of her opening relax bit by bit, and I went from wide smearing motions to deeply tongue fucking her asshole.

“That’s right little man,” she panted. “Good little man. Eat it!”

She slapped my crotch twice, hitting the shaft of my cock through my pants. She sighed and growled, squeezing my face between her muscular cheeks. I was nearly being smothered, but I didn’t care. Every lick seemed better than the last. My hands roamed her body blindly, touching the iron contours of her stomach and legs. After just a short while I neared the point of collapse. My jaw began to hurt, I needed a deep breath, and my tongue was tired. I slowed down, pushed my tongue more gently. Gina fell quiet, then twitched and raised herself up ever so slightly. She began to moan and drew it out as I raised my mouth to keep the rhythm of fucking. Her head dropped and she pressed her mouth to my stomach as she came. I felt her hot breath through my shirt as she made a low snarl that penetrated my skin and spread through my body like a wave of electricity.

“Good little man,” she said, breathing heavily. “Good little man.”

I was still engulfed by the sticky embrace of her glutes. My face was smeared with the soup of her cum and my saliva. After a moment she lifted herself off of me and rose to her feet. I looked up and admired her giant frame, ready to do whatever she commanded. Gina put her hands on her hips and raised her left foot so that the toe just made contact with my sternum. It was a pose of total domination, and she held it while she ran her hands through her long hair.

Without even the slightest wobble, she began to turn her toe in a circle on my stomach. She looked me in the eyes and held my gaze as she moved her foot down to my belt, and then pressed down slightly where my cock had softened. She smiled.

“What happened, little man?”

I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything. The taste of her was still in my mouth, but I missed feeling her weight on me. I looked up at her face and then down my torso to where the ball of her foot was starting to make a gentle roll.

“Tell me, little istanbul travestileri man,” she said. “What happened to your little dickey?” She licked her lips for effect.

“Did you forget about that little dickey of yours? Did it get lonely when you were eating Gina’s ass?”

I nodded quickly. She looked straight down at my pants, where my cock was warming and thickening and starting to push up against her foot.

“Mmmm,” she said, and licked her lips again. Then she let her jaw drop slightly and shot me a glance out of the corner of her eyes. “Little man gets big in a hurry!”

I began to flex my ass, thrusting up to create more pressure with her foot. She maintained the same posture, hands on her hips, and I looked at her towering above me, taking in her curves and angles, imagining my tongue sliding over every inch of them. Seeing the hunger in my expression, she began to move her left hand slowly, teasingly, along her stomach, flaunting her body and enjoying it the way I would if I could reach her. Her hand drew slowly down her side, then underneath her thigh, when she gave a slight jerk forward that told me she had put her fingers in her pussy. Tilting her head down at me she withdrew her fingers and put them in her mouth, moving them in and out and fluttering her eyes in imitation of an eager, hungry blowjob. I pushed my ass completely off the floor to grind against Gina’s foot while she continued to give head to her wet fingers.

When she pulled her fingers out, she sat on the edge of the bed and said, “Stand up. Take out your little worm for me.”

I rose up, back to the wall, and fumbled with my pants. They sagged to my knees and I saw the head of my half-erection bob out past the hem of my shirt. Gina leaned back on the bed and raised her feet so that one was on each side of my cock. Then she squeezed her feet together and began to jerk me off. She lay there smiling at me, narrowing her eyes and watching my hard-on thicken between the grip of her insteps.

“Oh, look, little man!” she said. “You have such a nice, stiff dickey!”

I smiled and felt my eyelids flutter.

As her legs pumped back and forth I could see into the gap between her thighs and into the pussy I had eaten, a gorgeous brown mound with only the tiniest stripe of hair above it and an opening burst wide by the petals of her inner lips.

I felt myself reaching the point of explosion and halted. I didn’t know what to do.

She looked into my eyes and said, “Do you need to come, little man?”

I tried to nod yes, but it was more like a shudder that ran across my scalp.

Gina released my cock and backed up on the bed, where she pressed her legs close together so that the tops of her feet were side by side. Then she wiggled her toes and said, “Give it to me.”

I gripped my throbbing hard-on and tugged at it furiously. It pulsed back into my palm with every squeeze, and within seconds I felt I surge of energy in my balls like a stone let loose from a slingshot. My whole body twitched as a burst of white baubles splashed onto the target in front of me. Gina opened her mouth widely and crowed with glee.

“It’s so hot!” she said. She raised up and looked at her feet. “What a hot, sticky mess my little man made!”

Her feet were doused with thick, white clots and watery rivulets that were starting to run down the curvature of her instep. Gina tucked her thighs up to her abdomen and pointed her toes at me.

“Lick me clean,” she commanded.

Heart racing, I let go of my twitching cock, took one heel in each hand and set my mouth to the task, lapping up my come and her sweat, pressing my tongue hard into her pores.

“Every drop,” she said, reaching one arm forward to tussle my hair. “Every drop.”

I went licking and swallowing on and on until all I could taste was my own spit, and even then kept going, wishing it wasn’t all gone, wishing there was more to do for her, because nothing else mattered. I wasn’t a journalist, a writer, or an interviewer anymore. I wasn’t anything except for Gina’s little man.

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