Bionic Stud: When Lance Met Sandra

"What did you like about him?"

"Those big muscles. And his attitude... He didn't take shit from anyone."

"And your friend reminds you of Conan?"

"Lance looks like he stepped right out of a comic book. He checks every box on my list: eight-pack abs, a square jaw, that five o'clock shadow that no guy can pull off. And he has this magnificent mane of dark, wavy hair that flows down to his ass. Give him a guitar and you got a rock star. Give him a sword and you got yourself a smoking hot barbarian stud."

"A barbarian stud?"

"Yeah, a stud. What the hell do you think I am talking about? I don't want Mr. Nice Guy. I want adventure. And the more I heard about Lance at school, the more I wanted him. He was like... notorious."

"What do you mean?"

"No one knows his exact body count but he probably hooked up with 40 or 50 seniors this semester. Lance slept with every member of the cheerleading squad. After the school elected him Prom King, he went home with two girls that night. I know what women are supposed to say: 'Oh, my goodness! What a cad!' But that would be a lie. To be honest, a badass Don Juan turns me on."

"Please elaborate."

"I think the more girls a guy can bed, the better he'll be able to handle me. I'm not into slut-shaming. And I'm not into stud-shaming either. We live in a repressive society that makes us ashamed of our bodies and our desires. And that means women like me are supposed to endure shitty, boring sex lives to please our husbands. Fuck that shit! Listen to me. Lance is a moron. I don't think he can spell his own name. But that dude truly gets it. He doesn't give a fuck."

"What do you mean?"

"He doesn't give a fuck about school, peer pressure, winning the big game, the federal deficit, who gets nominated for the Supreme Court. But, most importantly, he doesn't give a fuck about what people like you think of him! He just wants to get his rocks off."

"And that's all you want in a soul mate?"

Sandra's lips broke out into a naughty grin. She decided to fuck with the doctor.

"No, that's not all. There's something else you should know about Lance. He's got a ten-and-a-half inch cock."

Sandra paused and let the revelation hang in the air for dramatic effect. Dr. Joffe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The psychologist understood that his patients needed to express themselves freely in these sessions. However, he found it difficult to divorce his professional duties from his perfectly understandable attraction to the buxom teenage knockout. This type of conversation could lead to all sorts of troubles with the medical licensing board.

"Keep going," he timidly ventured.

"They call him 'forearm' at school. I barely socialize with anyone and even I heard the rumors. That's why all the girls want to go out with him. His big dick makes them come so hard that they black out."

Sandra wore a skimpy gray skirt that day. Dr. Joffe probably had been undressing her luscious body in his mind from the moment she walked in his office. Having raised the tension of their session to a fever pitch, Sandra uncrossed her legs to reveal her shaved pussy. An instant later, she re-crossed them. It was a classic move. She always had wanted to pull a Sharon Stone.

"Did you like that, you dumb 'male gaze' motherfucker? Well, guess what? Women also have eyes in their heads. We've got our own fetishes. So, no, I'm not going to apologize for lusting after a big dick."

Dr. Joffe looked at Sandra impassively. She had yearned for a flustered reaction and badly missed the mark.

"I've been married for twenty years," he began quietly. "A relationship begins with something physical but that feeling won't sustain it. Let's assume your 'date' had gone well and Lance became your boyfriend. How would that make you feel?"

"Powerful," she said. The word seemed to escape her lips without any forethought. "All my life, I've been on the outside. I didn't even have a date for prom. But, for once, I'll get the guy."

"So you get the guy. Then what?

"I want to put that fucker in his place. He'll do whatever I tell him."

"This...uh... potential boyfriend of yours doesn't seem like a pushover. In fact, you just called him a Don Juan. What if he, say, looked at another woman?"

"I'd kill him!" Sandra blurted out almost instantly. "I mean... I'd kick his fucking ass. Killing is wrong."

"Wait a minute. On the one hand, you want a guy that seduced the entire cheerleading squad. On the other, he's not allowed to even look at someone else. Don't you see a contradiction?"

Fuck. Maybe he had a point.

"It's complicated!" she answered defensively. "I don't fucking know. I thought guys like you were paid to figure out this kind of thing."

__

Lance spent Thursday evening in unusual circumstances. Alone. If he hadn't gone out on a date, he usually would be banging Jane at this hour. Though Lance had become emancipated from his parents a few years ago, the buxom cougar had become his legal guardian. The arrangement worked for both of them. In return for a crash pad and no curfew, the live-in gigolo gave her the kind of loving that separated the men from the boys. Across the hall, her bedroom door was always open for business.

"Coming home?" he texted.

"Night shift," was her response.

Lance scanned the rest of the texts. He had 72 unread messages since this morning. Lance got so many nudes from his admirers that the touchscreen of his phone looked like the photostream of a pornographic Tumblr feed. But what really turned him on were the captions:

"Wanna do a number on me?"
"I want your big dick to stretch out my pussy."
"Yo, Magnum Man! Wanna stop by?"
"Call me. You can make me cum like no one else."

Lance had to keep his phone on silent because it hummed in his pocket more than a nymphomaniac's vibrator. Yet even as more messages from more girls flashed their tits across the screen, he almost felt... bored. Lance knew what that meant. It was Tinder time!

Lance opened the app on his phone. He swiped right five times and got five matches. The playboy prowled their profiles: Two blondes, one brunette, one redhead, and an emo chick with purple hair. He couldn't decide whom to text first. Usually, one of them would contact him in a minute or two. His profile attracted strong interest: a shirtless candid of his massive ripped torso with a salami-shaped bulge in his skintight jeans. Lance didn't need to write a witty description about himself to get swiped right. His profile simply read "10.5 inches."

Suddenly, his phone lit up with a video message from "Unknown Caller." He opened the file. The woman had shot herself from the neck down but Lance immediately knew her identity. Sandra wore a white T-shirt with a plunging neckline. No bra. She bounced her ass on a springy mattress, causing her big jugs to swing up and down beneath the loose garment.

It had not been the first "titty bounce" video that Lance ever got on his phone but the sight of Sandra's elusive bust instantly mesmerized him. The footage looped over and over again as he watched her thudding breasts almost hypnotically. Lance instinctively wrapped his hand around his hard, thick shaft and stroked it. The sensation had become unfamiliar. With a virtual harem of partners on his phone, he had not touched himself in a long time.

It was not enough. Lance craved Sandra. He parted the curtains of his bedroom window. Her van wasn't parked outside. That kind of bummed him out.

His phone lit up. One of the Tinder girls had sent a message. It read, "Prove it!"

__

TWO HOURS LATER

The dorm room was dark. Lance chilled with Mandy on the lower level of her bunk bed. The brunette Tinder babe had stripped down to her bra and panties. She had just taken his dick out.

"Wow, I think I'll call you '2x.'"

"2x?"

"Yeah, you're like twice as big as my last boyfriend."

"So did I 'prove it'?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "I think you could say that."

The springs in the upper bunk creaked for a moment.

"Shhhhh!" Mandy warned him with a finger to the lips.

"I thought you said your roommate had passed out after the party," he whispered.

"I thought she had."

Lance and Mandy didn't move a muscle.

"Can I see it?" finally sounded a faint voice from the top bunk.

"Alright, alright..." Mandy shrugged with a smile.

A pair of very long legs descended the ladder of the bunk. They seemed to go one forever until the hem of her black nightie finally came into view around mid-thigh. Kate hopped off the ladder. She stood 5'11" in her bare feet. The nineteen-year old volleyball champion looked just as hot as Mandy. Kate glanced at his face, then his dick. She did a double take.

"Holy shit!" gushed Kate. "You're Lance Leo!"

"Guilty as charged," smirked the playboy.

"My little sister goes to Peoria Tech," she told him. "Mandy, do you have any idea who you just swiped? This dude is going to be in the NFL!"

"Sure, lots of people get scouted," he humblebragged. "But I have to go to college first. To be honest, I think I'd rather stick with bodybuilding. Check this out."

Lance opened a photo album of the Teen Olympia competition on his smartphone. The organizers took some promotional snaps of him holding up the trophy for First Place. He tossed the phone to Kate. She sat down on the edge of the bed. The tension rose. Kate wasn't going anywhere. Mandy looked at Lance: "WTF?" He just smiled and winked: "Relax."

The teen stud played it cool. Other guys might have panicked in his situation but Lance knew how to pivot when another chick showed up unexpectedly. A visitor like her wasn't an obstacle but an opportunity.

"Duuuude!" she laughed. "You fucking look Photoshopped."

"Nope," he answered. "There really are guys like me in the real world."

To prove his point, Lance tore off his Muscle Tee. He didn't say anything but just let his body do the talking. Kate needed a little time to accustom herself to the vast disparity between his triple-wide shoulders and narrow waist but it didn't diminish her attraction to the bodybuilding playboy in the slightest. His sculpted eight-pack abs had not been Photoshopped.

But his magnificent physique did not banish the elephant in the room. Lance had made no effort to conceal his huge boner. In fact, he now was buck naked in front of two strange females.

Kate put down his phone. "Can I touch it?" she asked Mandy seemingly out of the blue. Her roommate nodded in the affirmative.

"Don't I get a say in this?" he mock-complained. "Aren't you gals in college? Where is my consent form?"

Kate rolled her eyes before reaching out and taking hold of him with one hand. She could not steady his pole so she supported the base with the other. The lusty co-ed could feel the heat radiating off of it. Her fingers and thumbs didn't touch as she slowly fisted his shaft.

Lance motioned for Mandy with a curl of the index finger. His smile broadened as the Tinder babe closed in on him for a kiss. She took the initiative, slipping her tongue into his mouth. Lance tasted cinnamon on her breath. The college freshman probably had knocked back a shot of Fireball to steady her nerves before he arrived.

Mandy finally pulled back from him to undo her braid. Whiskey or no, the kiss caused her mind to race. She tugged awkwardly at the weave and ended up tangling up her long hair into a big knot. "Let me," he offered in a voice both soothing and self-confident. "We better loosen you up." Lance's skillful fingers combed through her braid and unraveled the matted hair.

Meanwhile, Kate met his smoldering gaze. "Are you loosening her up?" the volleyball vixen asked with a wink as she continued to stroke his massive tool. Lance nodded and smiled. He knew she knew. Kate's little sister had spoken about more than his athletic feats. Football bored most chicks. Nope, Kate heard the stories about his legendary cocksmanship.

Lance's popularity at school seemed to happen overnight. After transferring to Peoria Tech for his last year of school, he slept with one or two fast seniors that liked to gossip about penis size. They raved about his prowess on social media and the teen stud soon found himself the subject of admiring glances, peer approval, and alpha male respect.

Lance's smile widened. He just couldn't help it. It was awesome to be him. The ladykiller owned the ultimate male status symbol. Women treated him differently than other guys. During class, the hottest girls in school slipped him scraps of paper with their phone numbers and sent unsolicited nudes to his mobile. While his peers struggled through puberty, Lance entered an almost pornographic wonderland in which the door to every girl's bedroom stood wide open.

As fall semester wore on, Lance had pretty well fished out the pond that was Peoria Tech. He already had nailed the hottest seniors on his hit list. But Bradley University boasted a much larger student body. It also enjoyed a reputation as a party school. As a playboy who dug casual sex, Lance felt like he won the lottery. The campus offered a seemingly inexhaustible number of young, single college babes for hookups.

Kate hopped off the bunk. She turned her back to them, and without any further ado, lifted her nightie up and off, showing her bare back and panty-clad ass.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," confided Mandy.

"You're gonna love it," Lance reassured her before kissing her roommate. He wasn't wrong. A healthy sexual tension had built between the girls since they had been assigned to live together in Room #512. Mandy heard Kate masturbating the last time a guy nailed her on the lower bunk and she could not help but think "What if?" She really lucked out finding the Tinder stud. Whether or not he was going to the NFL, the dude had enough game to lure Kate into her bed.

The panties came off next. Lance drew back and let his partners explore each other. His smile persisted.

"What are you looking at?" Kate teased.

"Just happy to see two young ladies expanding their horizons."

"Don't you think your perspective is a bit self-serving?"

"It is."

Lance saw no reason to lie. He wanted a double helping of hot, wet pussy that night. And his companions looked more than willing to serve it to him.

__

Sandra kept her ear pressed to the window and listened intently as the unmistakable sounds of kissing ensued. The shades had been drawn so the vixen couldn't look inside. She never got this close. She never stayed this long. The nimble voyeur crouched on the fire escape, barely aware of the spreading wetness in her panties. The anger and sadness she felt earlier that day melted as her blood boiled with lust.

After several minutes of what sounded like a really hot make out session, Sandra could hear creaking bedsprings as Lance repositioned himself on the mattress. Next came a heaving breath interspersed with an occaional gasp. Lance must have been giving head. He became very vocal during sex and wouldn't have shut up unless he had his tongue shoved up a woman's pussy. Sandra felt her clit twitch at the thought.

"FUCK YES!" screamed a female voice, giving up any pretense of discretion. Sandra heard her limbs thrash violently against the mattress as a powerful orgasm rattled that gal to her very core. No guy ate pussy as good as Lance. She would have humped his face all night if he hadn't broken out.

Then she heard slurping sounds. Cocksucking sounds. Sandra tried to visualize what was happening inside. Lance must have been doing a sixty-nine with his date. The couple had gone silent while they devoured each other's privates. Sandra wondered how it would feel to suck his cock. She usually fantasized about him thrusting his monster inside of her but a blowjob could be fun too. She wanted to taste his big hunk of meat, to stroke it with both hands, feel its mass... Its power... Its strength...

Sandra heard a moan. Her ears perked up. The woman's voice sounded different, a bit huskier than before. "Give it to me," demanded the stranger, her request infused with desperate lust. Sandra heard a lot of mattress movement. The bedsprings creaked, then stopped. They creaked some more. She heard faint whispers and laughter.

"I don't think this going to work," said the girl.

"The mattress is too small for three people," said the second girl.

"Ladies," Lance reassured them. "I got this."

Sandra's mind raced as she reimagined the lurid scene within Room #512. Lance had scored a threesome! His salacious conquest shouldn't have excited Sandra but it did. She already had pegged Lance for an "orgy guy." The playboy had the looks and confidence to pull two women. But she had not pondered how the actual event would unfold.

"Here, let me pull this down," said Lance. Sandra heard something heavy drop to the floor with a dull thump. "We'll use this one too," he continued. She heard another dull thump, followed by the sound of furniture being moved. Though she couldn't see inside, Sandra deduced they had taken the mattresses off the bunk beds and lined them up together on the floor.

"See," announced Lance. "Plenty of room."

It was more than the hardcore sexual mechanics of Lance's threesome that excited Sandra. The small details proved equally titillating. She noted his smooth, calculating manner. When presented with the obstacle of an undersized twin mattress, he immediately offered a solution. Could this have been his first time nailing a pair of college bunkmates in their dorm room? Probably not.

"Climb on board, babe," he told one of them.

"You can sit on my face," he told the other.

A low guttural moan sounded inside. "Holy shit," gasped the college freshman, a hint of pain in her voice. "Take it nice and slow," he whispered. "This ain't your ex-boyfriend's dick." Her roommate also began to moan. Sandra heard slurping noises. Lance must have been eating the second babe's pussy while the first one rode his dick.

Sandra's vivid imagination feverishly reconstructed the heated debauchery inside Room #512. Lance probably had opted for the "double cowgirl." He lay down on his back so that one girl could straddle him and mount his power tool. Meanwhile, the other knelt over his mouth so he could perform oral on her. Thus positioned, the girlfriends faced each other so they could make out together.

Their breathing quickened as the trio found their groove. "How is he?" asked one girl. "So deep," the other muttered under her breath. Sandra then heard the smacking of lips. The girls were kissing as they jockeyed his face and dick. Then a rhythmic pounding of flesh on flesh ensued. Sandra imagined his pelvis thrusting upwards at a steady pace, shoving that monster into places no man had gone before.

"Slam it in!" she demanded. "Faster!" Lance automatically doubled his speed. Then trebled it. He drove his massive piston into her body like a runaway locomotive. His lover began to scream at the top of her lungs, shouting profanities that would make a porn starlet blush. And the jezebel didn't let up for a long time. That's when Sandra knew she was coming. No female had to fake an orgasm so passionately.

As soon as girl #1 went silent, girl #2 began to pant. Sandra almost could hear Lance lapping away at her clit. "Oh my God!" cried the female. "What are you doing?" Sandra knew the answer. Lance had such a long tongue that he could jam it up a woman's twat and stroke her G-spot with the tip. A few well-placed flicks had caused Sandra to double over with pleasure.

Meanwhile, girl #1 rejoined the moans as Lance impaled her with his fuck club. The roommates weren't kissing each other anymore. They focused on their own pleasure, courtesy of their lover's lizard tongue and mustang cock. Slowly but surely, their moans and cries grew in volume, the two of them ascending to climax together. The threesome got LOUD. Sandra didn't need to keep her ear pressed to the window to hear their lovemaking sounds.