Durable

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope it's as good a time for you as it was for me! I've been reading stories here for a while and decided to try my hand at telling one of my own. This is very heavily based off of a real experience of mine, so if that ruins the fantasy for you, turn back now. If this ends up going off well, I'll do a few more. As a disclaimer everyone in this story is of the legal age, seeing as I was too young to know better at the time! In the meanwhile, enjoy. No one was harmed in the making of this story, but should you know of or resemble the characters listed here...feel free to let us all know!

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In college I was a nerd.

I know, hard to believe. I went to a little community place, just far enough away from my parents to make sure they wouldn't come up and bother me every day. I rather liked it there; it was small, out of the way, and beautiful all year round. Considering I went there to pursue art, it was as good a place as any.

Granted, I didn't do much while I was there. I had few friends in high school, fewer who kept in touch. I wasn't exactly popular in the most traditional sense. I was the nerd with the big dick. Not the best of reputations to carry with you where I was from. I got picked on almost more than I got laid, and with the exception of a very steamy MILF who broke me in, I tried to be careful with my needs. High school, as I learned, was a minefield of drama I did my best to avoid. Sleeping around wasn't my style. So while I got my fair share of dates and had my fun, I was always very, very picky about who I got into bed with.

I learned early on being big doesn't mean you get to drown in pussy. It'll get girls in your bed, sure, but you have to be careful. I don't like hurting my partners, and after dozens of failed blowjobs and walkouts, I figured having a huge cock was only helpful if you could find girls who could take it. You'd be surprised on just how few women can actually DO that. Some try for the novelty; some say they're size queens...but to us truly big guys? We know when a chick's eyes are bigger than her stomach. And I hated being turned down because of my size. But I wasn't going to compromise and just fuck whomever. I was a nerd you remember. D&D isn't going to play itself, and elf girls don't scream at you to stop because you're halfway in and it hurts so bad that they're going home.

So my freshman year at The Big U, I was practically a hermit. I kept to my studies, did my art thing, and that was it. Besides a party or two my roommate threw; I was hardly outside my room. And I liked it that way. Part of me, anyway. Seclusion was, and still is, something I enjoy. But I do have my animal side, and it had been a while since that part of me had come out and feasted. I don't think my sexual needs even came up that entire first year. I'd see a busty cutie or spy a coed across the green and I'd feel the spark, but I never acted on it. Porn once or twice a day was all the action I got.

It wasn't until I went home for Christmas break that an offhand comment from my brother broke me out of that seclusion. He commented I had been getting...well, thick. Months of sitting alone, drawing, playing video games, and nothing else were not doing anything for my figure. The phrase 'Freshman Fifteen' came up more than a few times that holiday, and I didn't like how it made me feel. So when I got back, I decided to find a gym. There was a long weekend coming up, and that was a good time to find a place and start working out.

The place I found was called "Durable". I remember it being funny at the time because the building was so far back into some woods that I passed it three times thinking it was abandoned. I had decided to go there rather than the larger Gold's Gym or even the one on campus because I felt absurdly silly and self-conscious. I didn't want to just walk in anywhere and be judged for being the stereotype of the white boy pathetically panting away in the corner. I was very much going to be that guy, in all likelihood, but I didn't have to do it in public view. Durable was out of the way, smaller, and - hopefully - less crowded than anywhere else would have been.

There was an added benefit of it being a short bike ride from my dorm, so proximity played a part. I was a freshman without a car.

I went in, a bag tossed over one shoulder, and the building was little more than a converted garage hanger. One big open space. Concrete floor covered in panel mats, high, scaffold ceilings. It certainly didn't look that big from the outside. Weight machines were tossed in lines with little care. Racks of weights on one wall, mirrors on the other. Six, maybe seven busted lockers sat right beside the doorway, beside a rack of terribly old magazines and the front check-in desk. The showers and bathrooms were at the back of a dim hallway that I remember looking a lot like something out of an Aliens movie set. I vowed to never have to use them. It was also blissfully empty. Except for me and a woman sitting behind the desk. Obviously she worked there, so I walked up.

She was sitting facing away from me, looking at a computer screen. Her black hair was cropped in a literal horse mane; buzzed on the sides, long and flowing in a strip down the middle. She was wearing a tight tank top with a skull across its back, and it left her arms and shoulders bare.

And she was huge.

And when I saw huge, I don't mean fat. Her deltoid wasn't even in full flex and it looked bigger than the steak I had eaten for Christmas dinner. Her bicep could have crushed my head. Her back was a wide, solid wall. Her tank did nothing to hide the definition down her traps, and I had a feeling she was cut all the way down. I coughed, nervous. She turned as I got closer, not having heard me come in. And that's where I had to stop.

She stood up as she turned. Huge maybe wasn't enough. 6'6" at least, she was a tower. Only, as she turned, she exposed her right side, which I hadn't been able to see. Her entire right arm and eye were gone. She had a patch over her eye, and her tank top again did nothing to hide the mass of scar tissue she had across the socket where her arm used to be. The scars traveled up over her jaw to slash across under her eye patch nearly up to her hairline. I had to take a moment to remind myself not to stare, but god, it was hard. She had been mauled by something.

She didn't seem to care about the view she gave. She smiled at me, warm and friendly. Her one good eye was a gorgeous amber brown. Despite her disfigurement, the rest of her was downright sinful. All her muscle just pushed itself forward as if it begged to be touched. Her top was stretched by a pair of breasts so huge I almost thought they were fake, but the way they jiggled, held high and perky despite gravity, told me the woman was as natural as anyone. Placed almost deliberately, some ear buds peeked out from the valley of her cleavage. I don't know much about cup sizes, but whatever letter comes after Z was a good fit. Fucking stacked. This woman had more boob than any ten pornstars you could name combined. Hell, all of her muscle was probably just there to help her move with those giant mountains on her chest.

"Hi!" She greeted me, and her voice was that smoky, lounge singer baritone. The kind of voice that drips sex without even trying. "I'm Violet. Can I help you?"

I said something stupid. I honestly don't remember. I was still just taking her in. Deep in my gut I felt something stirring. Embarrassment, sure, but it was more. I wasn't just staring at her because she was an oddity. I was staring because I NEEDED to see more of her. To take it in and just appreciate what her body was. What the being inside it was.

To me, in that instant, Violet was absolutely beautiful. More than that, she was Sexy. Capital 'S'. Downright smoking hot mountain of female badass. I wasn't even into girls like her before now. Huge and buff hadn't been my type. Scars and punk hairstyles had actually turned me off before.

But Violet...oh man. If there was a rule to my libido, she was the exception in every way.

"Yes, uh, just looking for a place..." I garbled out some excuse for bothering her. Her smile didn't waver, but it changed. Shifted into something that went from professional to knowing. She pointed at my bag.

"New recruit, huh? Want a day pass?" She asked. Something in her voice told me she had seen a million guys like me before. "It's twenty dollars for daily membership. Gets you full access to the machines."

"Uh, well, I'd like something more permanent." I managed to get a bit of steel back in my legs. Desk angel or not, I had come in to start working out. And since Durable had a vision like Violet working there, I wasn't going to bother shopping around. I needed to be there as often as possible now, just to be close to her.

"Huh. That's new." She remarked, and she looked me over again, her one eye scanning, assessing. "Well, our monthly membership fee is forty-five."

I paid. She handed me a clipboard, her hand heavy and calloused. Her remaining arm was also crisscrossed in still more lines and ragged scar-cuts. Jesus, but the lady had taken some serious punishment. I signed some papers. As I filled out the forms she sat back down. The sweatpants she wore were stretched by more curves and leg then I thought was legal. I had to fight back a growl of sudden need. I know she caught me drowning in her cleavage once or twice before she took the clipboard and membership forms back from me, but she didn't say anything.

"Nice...Zack." She said, reading my name off the form. "Whelp, you're all good now. The place is yours. Do you need help with any of the machines? Need anything explained?"

Yes, I did. I had never been in a gym in my life before and some of the machines looked like medieval torture devices to my untrained eye. Of course, I didn't say that. A guy has his woefully arrogant pride, after all.

"No no, I think I'll be ok." I said. Looking back on this moment, I can only call myself stupid. How many college kids think they know everything? Cocky bravado was about all I had going for me, and I didn't have much of that.

I picked my way across the gym, looking for something I at least could recognize. I settled on a treadmill, just to start a bit of a run, warm up. Show Violet I wasn't a complete novice or something. I don't know why I bothered, since she was already back behind her computer. Time to focus and actually, you know, work out. I put my bag aside and checked over the little hand-written workout routine I had found online to follow. I fished out my crappy iPod and fired up some music.

Ten minutes later I was already sweating. Out of shape would have been a nice way of describing me at this time. I moved to some barbells, grabbing a set of thirty-five pounders - already too heavy for my scrawny ass - and did a few curls. That hurt after a while, so I moved down to twenty pounds and did some more. When I couldn't physically lift the things anymore, I switched to presses. Oh god did my arms hate me.

I was halfway through a set and feeling like my shoulder was about to pop off when Violet got up from her desk. I immediately took notice. I had been keenly aware of whatever she had been doing throughout my workout. Every time she had shifted or moved, I had tossed a glance her way, only to have my heart flutter and my shorts tighten a bit before exertion brought me back. This time though, she had a clipboard in hand and was heading my way.

"Hey." She smiled again as she got closer. "This is yours..." She handed me a little plastic tag. On one side was DURABLE in thick block letters, while the other had a little insert with my name handwritten. The pen stroke on the Z in 'Zack' was a little loopy. "So, you can get in next time. Just gotta have this on you, or I'll have to charge you the day fee."

I took the little tag, panting a bit. My fingers brushed hers for a half second, and she dropped the tag more than handed it to me, pulling her left arm away a little too quickly. "Thanks...I thought you'd just mail me something."

"Oh, we do usually. But you were here, so I figured I'd take care of you myself." Her words weren't flirty. At least, to my tired brain they didn't register as such. I gave her a glance as I turned to tie the membership tag to my bag. She was looking over me again, and my eyes went at once to the taut stones of her abs. Her tank was just so damn tight I could see she was rocking a six-pack I could only dream of. There was a pause and this time there was no way she didn't catch me looking and appreciating.

She chuckled. "You know, most guys focus on these." And she rose up on her toes and gave a little bounce. Her breasts wobbled in the confines of her sports bra and tank top, barely restrained, and the corded muscle of her shoulders, even her ruined one, bulged a bit to make them pop and flex. Her ear buds flopped and wobbled between the tops of those melons like two ships on a sea.

Have I said yet that Violet was stacked? She was fucking busty as all hell.

My eyes went wide and I coughed, looking away as my cheeks burned in a blush. Violet laughed again.

"Sorry! Sorry. Just teasing." She smiled again, showing teeth. "But thanks anyway."

"For...what?" I asked.

"For not being a creep. Like I said, most guys focus on the wrong things." I don't know how she did it with an eye patch on, but she actually winked at me. "Anyway! Let me know if you need a spotter or anything." Then she turned away and walked off. She swung her one arm back and forth, stretching, and as I watched she plucked her ear buds from her boob pocket, fit them to her ears, and took up position on a leg machine. The weight she threw onto it made me blush again. Mostly with jealousy. She could have benched ME and probably not even have noticed.

An hour later, I had finished. I ran a bit more on the treadmill, but by then I was getting so tired I couldn't continue. Violet, however, had been going non-stop. One machine to the other, back and forth, all over the gym. It was odd, but even with her right arm missing, she didn't seem to have much trouble, and those few machines that she got to that required both hands for she just sort of powered through. She had a nice healthy sweat going to match mine when I stumbled out, but she caught my eye as I was heading out the door.

"See you around, Zack!" She called between motions on a fly press that made all the fabric gods of workout clothes weep. I walked out with a spring in my step I never would have had a moment ago.

The long weekend ended. I went to Durable for all three days and spent four or five hours each there. Violet was there all three days. No one else even came into the gym. I tried not to get there as soon as the door opened at 7AM, but only just. Violet had the keys. We traded hellos, but nothing more substantial, not since that first flirty little interlude. Looking back, it was obvious how desperate I was, but my little shy bubble hadn't yet been popped, and I never worked up the nerve to talk to Violet directly.

No matter how badly I wanted to.

Then the fun ended, classes started, and I was busy. A week went by. Surprisingly, Violet never made an appearance in any of my fantasies after that, despite my attraction to her. If anything, she stirred my libido into overdrive, and I began venturing out when all my classes and work was done to bars and parties, trying to meet new folks. To let my primal self out again to find a match. No luck, but the urge was there in a way I hadn't realized I missed. When I did laundry and found the DURABLE tag on my bag, I smiled. One weekend of workouts does not a fit boy make, so I headed back the next day.

Violet was there. She had on a t-shirt that was tied at her right arm, hiding it from view. Her midriff was exposed, displaying those hard abs again, which I mentally caressed as I walked by. As I did my regimen, Violet did her own. She usually started after me, oddly enough, and always when I came in. I had yet to catch her halfway through her routine, no matter when I turned up. But I took my usual position at the end of the line of treadmills, thinking already about how much the reps of crunches I was going to do after were going to suck.

This time, Violet took the treadmill across from me. It was odd, since we usually worked apart, but I figured it was just good luck for me. She smiled at me as we jogged. I got about ten steps in when I realized her ear buds weren't in her ears. They were sitting in their usual position; right in her cleavage. She just...jiggled. Boobs as big as beachballs bounced as she ran, smiling right at me as she did.

Holy crap she knew I was looking. She was practically MAKING me.

There was no way I was going to survive this kind of display. My shorts tented instantly, the length of my shaft thickening up and throbbing to attention. It's an odd feeling getting a boner as you're trying to run, but I managed, and my shorts distended so far, my dick tip began to slap against my stomach as the whole massive length I had been blessed with made its approval known.

Violet wasn't smiling now. Her one eye was locked on my lap and her expression had gone from smug to shocked. Our eyes met for a moment. I slowed down my treadmill to a walk, panting a bit. She didn't slow down hers, instead picking up the pace until she too was breathing hard, all her bulk making her steps hit like thunder on the bed of the treadmill. Blushing furiously, I moved to my bag, I had to pass her to get by, and as I did, she chuckled.

"Damn, pay a lady a compliment like that, and she's going to get ideas..." She muttered just loud enough for me to hear.

I left for that day. I had other things to work out that a gym couldn't help me with, but a bottle of lotion and a memory of giant amazon fuckpillows could.

DURABLE became a regular haunt for me at that point, and the routine was the same. I lost the weight I wanted to, and then some. I didn't end up much bigger, but I went from overweight basement dwelling nerd to toned basement dwelling nerd in about three months. Of course, I had an excellent partner to motivate me. Violet was always at the gym, and she and I had an unspoken competition going; the workout only stopped when the other person took a machine or a position facing the other. I'm not sure where or how the rule got put into place, but so long as we weren't face-to-face, you kept going.

It might have had something to do with the fact that I'd end up with a raging death hard-on if she managed to catch my eye over a barbell. It was instant. The attraction I had to her was just that strong. Every time she bent over or did a squat, or flipped that big-ass tire they had lying around, she'd stand up and look my way as if she knew she'd find me just standing there looking at her. She knew the effect she had on me, and she kind of abused it. To my benefit, I suppose. To keep away from her I had to do a lot more training on machines I wasn't used to, which got me sore and stiff and nearly crying a few times. I know they say no pain no gain, but Violets teasing HURT.

We didn't say much to each other, and I never saw her outside of DURABLE. As the semester wore on, I had to focus on classes more and more, until I was only able to make it in to the gym once a week. Then a whole month went by. It was March when I finally found a day to head back.

That day was a bad one.

It was dumping rain. The bike ride to the gym was miserable just on that alone, but when I got there, the normally vacant lot was filled with cars. Trucks, really. By the time I locked my bike up and got in out of the rain, soaked, I was already not feeling great about my chances to discreetly ogle Violet.