You Be My Hero, I'll Be Yours

She felt suddenly weightlessness as he brought her up high, the cradle of his thick arms under her, protecting.

"Yes!" She felt small, light, protected. Then he launched himself, still holding her, onto the bed. Had he really jumped, leapt like that, while holding her weight? How strong was he?

He landed, heavy, on his knees. Too heavy. In slow motion, she felt the super-sized bulk of muscle tipping forward on the bed, onto her. "Unh....huh!"

He caught part of his weight but his chest still landed, heavy, on hers. The impact knocked the wind out of her.

The loose loops of the lasso had fallen as he spun her through the air. Her arms took advantage of their new freedom to wrap tight around him, hold his comforting bulk down on her before he could protest.

"Sorry..." He was already struggling to push himself up, off her.

"No!" She hugged him harder, clinging tight. "Trust me. Remember?"

His arms relaxed, slowly letting his weight bare down on her. "Like this?"

His weight pressing down grew, compressing her chest, limiting her breaths. It was deeply comforting somehow, letting her feel small, weak, but safe.

"Oh." Her voice sounded breathless, faint to her own ears. "Yeah. Just like that, big man."

She sensed tension in his arms. He was still holding back, keeping some pressure off of her. That was probably a good thing. She was starting to think she might feel a little bit dizzy.

He sensed it, easing up just enough to adjust his position, his lips finding hers. Her arms, so thin and weak now it seemed, strained to hold him down to her as she kissed him hard. When she pulled back he followed, weight increasing again, his hungry tongue not permitting her own to withdraw.

Now she was definitely dizzy, vision blurred. It was a little like standing up suddenly after a stiff drink. She blinked several times, sucking in deeper breaths when he suddenly retreated, heaving himself up into a crouch. His kneeling pushed her bare legs wider open. His hands tracing down their length, holding them up, high and bent, when they found her knees. His eyes drank her in, his face hungry, happy, pleased.

"Have my way with you: is that what you said?" His voice was rough, husky.

She could only manage a vigorous nodded 'yes,' still panting for air.

He grinned, lifting her legs even higher, closer back over her head. Her knees slid down his arms, catching at the crook of each elbow. Heavy hands found her breasts, squeezing them through the costume's thick material before opening his palms, pressing down.

"Uhhh." It was a long, slow exhale, forced out by her position and his weight. His hands carried his mass, compressed her lungs, his attentive concentration and touch as delicate, as tender, as it was irresistible. Another nod, encouraging him to continue. She had put herself in his hands and her trust was being rewarded.

As soon as she sensed the slightest tinge of dark crimson creeping into the edge of her vision, the pressure was gone again. She sucked in a deeper breath, as deep as the position with her legs still folded close allowed. How did he know?

His hands were exploring now, over her costume and body. He looked puzzled. "How do I...how'd you get into this?"

She couldn't help her smile. "Now that you have me captive, and helpless, you're going to strip me naked?"

Saying it out loud, knowing it was about to happen sent a chill through her. But he shook his head down at her.

"No, naked? Not completely. I'll leave your boots on and those bracelets. And the crown, of course."

"Why 'of course?'"

He reached a hand up, gently stroked one cheek. "It's not every day I get to have my way with a beautiful captive princess. And what says 'princess' like a golden diadem adorning her brow?"

His show of confidence was intoxicating, so much a part of what she craved.

"Now." It was a growl. "Don't make me ask again: how does this come off?"

He had in fact asked again, but she managed to suppress both grin and comment. He was playing his part so well, she didn't want to throw him off. "There's a zipper. In the back."

She couldn't have helped the giddy trill that escaped her. It seemed effortless, how he'd released her legs, grabbed her hips and just flipped her over. She thought of herself as a big woman, tall at least, and he made her feel absolutely petite. Now she was facedown, her midsection pinned to the bed by his solid, crouched hips kneeling over her. The temptation to lift her star-spangled ass, to find his stiffness and grind back on it, was strong, but the glorious comfort in just letting him take charge, take her, was too delightful to risk interrupting.

Fingers found the zipper between her shoulder blades and tugged. An inch and then nothing. Again. Nothing. She was glad he couldn't see her expression when she remembered the zipper sticking earlier, when she'd pulled it up, forcing her body into the tight costume. He tugged once more. Still nothing.

"Okay." She could picture those solid shoulders shrugging above her. The low, confident growl in his voice spoke directly to her loins. "Time for plan B."

He was off the bed and she was in the air again. Her waist was seized in oversized mitts, holding her high before he turned both of them. She could see herself in the mirror, face and throat flushed above the bustier that barely held her, and the flexed, bulging muscles of his arms and shoulders behind her, gently lowering her to her feet. She was breathless once more, but it had nothing to do with pressure in her chest.

He pulled at the zipper, harder, one last time, rewarded only by the popping sound of an overstrained thread, then another.

"What's plan B?"

"This." In the mirror she could see his jaw clenched before heavy arm muscles strained. Several pops in rapid succession -- threads breaking - became a loud, angry 'Rrrrrip!'

She gasped as the room's air chilled over the sweat-slick skin of her back, unexpectedly, violently exposed. Conscious thought entirely failed her. The torn costume dropped toward the floor and she fell with it, knees giving out.

Somehow, the tangle of stars and gold and red continued to descend, landing at their feet, while her own fall halted. The blurred image in front of her crystallized. Irresistible arms wrapped around her now-naked body, held her upright. And then the hands began to roam.

Her legs didn't seem quite able to stand yet, the shocking, unexpected ripping sound still reverberating inside her. She let him explore her curves, the heavy hands taking turns supporting her, providing balance, while the other stroked, squeezed, teased. 'Let' him? If she could have offered him encouragement she would have, but it wasn't needed. She had ceded control to him and now could relish the comforting helplessness of her submission.

When his lips found her neck, followed by teeth pressing into a sensitive tendon there, her head rolled back, limp on his shoulder. Her own groan sounded distant, lost.

How did he know? She had never shared it with anyone, not even Johnathan: a fantasy of strong hands tearing her clothes off, rending them to shreds, exposing her helpless body. The loud, harsh sound of parting cloth had been ripped directly from her deepest, most private musings. To have such a secret, unexplored desire suddenly become stunned reality had left her adrift, mental and physical flotsam tossed by wave after chaotic, overwhelming wave.

A hand cupped one breast, pulling her back against his chest while the other slid lower, between her thighs.

"Ahhh!"

*CHAZ*

He sucked in a breath, his lips still at her neck. She was soaked, soft swollen petals eager at his touch, welcoming a thick finger in only enough to be squeezed tight between slick inner walls. How could anything feel so incredibly soft, silky, and yet squeeze, resist against his intrusion with such strength? Her hips, naked now, his to explore, pushed into the intimate, exploring touch. Palming the smooth low rise of her mons, he pinning her to him, felt the shape of his raging stiffness, trapped in his now too-snug pants, settling into the warm crevasse that divided her full, rounded, naked and exposed ass.

Higher up, his fingers found her nipple, the same one he had seen, sucked when she first spread her robe wide to reveal her heroic, erotic surprise. Thrum! Deep vibrations from her very core fed up both arms. He could feel electricity humming through her, barely contained heat and tension evident under his touch and kisses. He crushed her naked, shuddering body against himself, allowing his lower hand to explore, deeper. A shiver stronger than any reaction so far wracked through her.

"I...." It sounded almost confused. Unbelieving. Her attempt at speech starting weak, trailed off into a breathless, soft groan. Then her glorious body went stiff in his grip, muscles locking tight in a prolonged frozen spasm, before dropping, limp. It surprised him, but his position allowed him to easily catch her falling form, snatch her up into cradling arms. Shudders, along with soft wordless murmurs, continued.

Her face, flushed and panting, disappeared, tucked under his chin. Now it was his turn to shiver, holding her up, as her lips moved against his neck.

"My hero." The reverent breathy whisper thrilled him.

Gently, his actions mimicking her revering tone, he lowered her onto the bed. Sporadic, random tremors still shook her body, calling attention to the glorious expanse of smooth femininity. Boots, bracelet, and -- especially -- the golden emblem centered high on her forehead accented, exaggerated her exposed beauty.

Her wide smile was warm, welcome, and weak; her eyes dazed. Her long legs moved languidly, allowing him glimpses of damp glimmering sheen high inside one thigh. His hands slid up those legs, over the rounded curves of both hips. She giggled, soft and faint, when he rolled her onto her front. She shook her bottom, now fully exposed to him. The shimmer of moistness showed here too, where loin became leg. "Mmmm."

The sound of appreciation escaped from deep in his throat.

"I told you: that's my line." When she twisted to look back at him, the swelling side of one full breast caught his attention.

"Well," his hand stroked over one round perfect cheek, squeezed, "if you could see what I see, you'd be mmmm-ing too."

Her hips rose in response, rising into his hand. "'Mmm' any way you want. Look anywhere you want."

He was already looking, closer now: his squeezing hand had pulled one cheek away from the other, opening shadowed treasures to his sight. He let his thumb slide into the space he'd exposed, trace down it over her more private, sensitive spots.

"Uhhh!" Her hips retreated, pushing down into the bed for only an instant before rising again, showing the exploring thumb another passage to the same slickness his fingers had founds moments ago from the front, when he had watched his hand's reflection in the mirror sliding down over her smooth tummy and into the shadows below. He resisted the urge to slip this thicker digit inside her and feel again her soft-smooth squeezing, reluctantly stroking down her thigh instead. He lowered his head, seizing both legs firmly before lips and tongue, licks and kisses, began to alternate between the tender twins, the soft, erogenous backs of both knees.

She squealed, squirmed, kicking and struggling, while making absolutely no real attempt to get away from him, at least until his kisses and grip began traveling up her body. Hands moved from thigh to hips. Lips and tongue lingered a moment longer at her knees, before moving up the backs of thighs. Both hands squeezed, pulling her cheeks apart.

Hips heaved to one side. He let her go, allowing her to twist under him, delighted to feel her naked glory turning over under his hands and mouth, exposing her entire frontside to him. Flushed, gorgeous face from the shining wide eyes to the wider, wilder, gasping lips. Beautiful full breasts on display, shimmying with her slightest motions. Her rib cage rose and fell with each rapid breath, arcing a Cupid's bow line that defined the highest reaches of her stomach, still wracked by tiny shudders.

Her reversal of positions, with him so close, forced her own legs outward, opening herself to him. He pushed her thighs wider, hands cupping under her hips, lifting her to his mouth.

"Fuck!" Hands grabbed at the back of his head, tangling twin fists of hair, holding him tight, high between her thighs. He licked, kissed, sucked, slurped, much like the attentions he had given the backs of her knees and simultaneously, incomparably different. Strong, smooth legs kicked, swimming to either side of him, opening wider in welcome before clenching down, her thighs tight against his ears.

Every murmur, shiver, strain and cry was his reward. He tasted her, lapping deeper, savoring every element of this dream come true. As many times as he had pictured this, even as he'd seen his hands pulling down that glorious little metallic bikini bottom from years ago, easing it off her long, sculpted legs, imagined her writhing under his tongue on her backyard towel or magically transported to a chaise lounge alongside a luxurious tropical pool, it was nothing to the reality of this moment.

Especially nothing to the reality of her fists redoubling their grip, snugging his face in harder against her, as a new keening sound reached him dimly past clenched thighs locking him in place. He watched and felt waves of tension ripple through her belly as warm wetness, sharp and tangier now yet indescribably sweet, flooded over his tongue and chin. His own hips ground, humping his trapped hardness down into the bed, his body knowing its ultimate role in this ancient, primordial dance.

Fists of hair eased as her legs relinquished their lock. Reluctantly, Chaz pushed himself back, up, to stand at the foot of her bed. Her eyes were half-lidded, the smile playing across those sensual lips drowsily sated. Shudders, lazier now, were still obvious. He struggled with his belt, fly, before he could shove his pants down. Kicking them off his feet took all the attention he could muster.

"The shirt too." Her voice was dreamy, softly slurred. The smile stayed sleepy, but her eyes had awoken.

*CHERYL*

She stared at the thick, heavy...what? Staff? Shaft? Cock. That was it. It was undeniably a cock, and a beautiful one, if beautiful was the right word for something so obviously, thickly male. A tight t-shirt tugged over muscled shoulders couldn't drag her eyes away from it.

And, yes, it was a beauty, stunningly so. From the slight curve upward, even as it jutted straight out at her, to the dully redder, circumcised head. And -- oh god! -- she saw a tiny pulse along its length, a dribble of shimmering fluid leaking slowly from the tip. The languor, the dreamy fog were gone.

"Bring that here. Now!"

Her hands stretched out to him, beseeching, begging, then guiding him near as he climbed back onto her bed. It was her turn to grab his hips, pull him close. His swollen glistening head swayed only inches from her. She tore her eyes away, higher, taking in the deep breaths powering his broad naked chest before finding his frozen, anxious stare.

She offered him a wide smile, let her tongue trace its outline. "I've seen the way you look at these oversized blow job lips. Do you think they can wrap around this great big monster?"

He actually whimpered. As much as she relished his strength, his weight exerted against her, her power over the young man right now could be addictive. The whimper became a groan as she wrapped fingers as far as they could reach around him. She let open lips and a lolling tongue draw nearer yet to him. He had to feel her breath, especially where the milky clear wetness crowned his tip.

"Please." His staring eyes widened further, shocked, confused. What could she possibly be asking him now? "May I?"

She heard him make a sound as his head nodded rapid repeated assent, but there was nothing close to a word in it. Yes: very addictive. She kept her eyes raised to his as she pressed lips to him, soft, gentle, letting her tongue harvest a tiny hidden taste before she began to suck the salty, heady offering in.

His young face showed turmoil, nervousness, excitement.

"Mmmm!" She would have smiled if her lips weren't stretched tight around him. They'd managed to take in his entire head, and she'd added the vibrating hum to keep him off-balance, over-stimulated, under her control. One of his big hands reached out, as though to find her head, then hovered in mid air before dropping again to his side, any interference on his part reconsidered.

Her jaw ached. Breaths, barely sufficient, could only be dragged in through her nostrils.

Relax, Cheryl. You've got this, girl. Her fingers squeezed, pumped once, again, measured and slow. Another salty thick taste found her tongue.

Yes! You've got him, girl. Right where you wanted him. Well, one of the places she wanted him.

Her inner-voice quip brought the mental relaxation she sought. She leaned forward, lips, jaw opening wider, taking him in. Her free hand found his solid, firm ass -- damn, he was muscled everywhere! -- and used it as an anchor to pull herself deeper onto him.

"Mmmm-hmmm!" An answering groan, and a tremor reaching both her hands, let her know he could feel that.

She pulled back enough to suck in air between her lips and his shaft. Looking up at him, she found her vision blurred, tears watering both eyes. She let go with her pumping hand, gripping his hips now with both, forcing her head down, further, back, down again.

"Oh god. Cheryl!" His powerful thighs shaking, out of control. Wet sounds accompanied each bounce of her head, each time she tried to take in a little more, strained, struggling sounds, close to surrendering into a wet, gagging cough.

The last attempt, her arms straining, succeeded in gaining more ground, taking her lips closer toward his root. The responding retreat was entirely involuntary, leaving her wide-eyed, gasping in air. She managed a faint grin. "You like that?"

A rapid, staring nod.

"You like making me gag on your big fat cock?"

Panic. It was immediate on his face. "I didn't..."

She laughed, wiped at her tears, still sucking in much-needed air.

"Do you like me -- rough, strong, Wonderful me - making myself gag on this beautiful cock?" The fingers wrapped around him again, renewed their slow pumping strokes.

"Uhh! Cheryl..." Looking up she could see his whole body shaking. It was official: she was addicted.

Leaning in, she nuzzled the side of her face against his heavy head, felt a slick trail that he would be able to clearly see smeared over one cheek.

"I'm so close." He whispered.

She stopped, hand dropping away. He had already cum quickly, last night, under her hand and it had tormented, embarrassed him. "Chaz."

"Yes?"

"I want you inside me."

His mouth worked, but nothing came out.

"Now. Please." She was already easing down into the bed, onto her back. He didn't move until the second word, the one that had so effected him earlier: 'Please.'

His thick chest heaving with each breath, he crawled between her open legs. This was it.

"Yes." She encouraged him with soft words and hands, reaching out, taking charge of aiming him down, high between her thighs. "Yes, Chaz, yes."

Guiding him, soothing and supportive, eased her own nerves or at least kept her mind off them. "Right there. Push."

The ache that had stretched her jaw seized her entire skull now, her spine, her core. It had been only the slightest of thrusts and she had gone from empty and eager to stretched, over-opened, full. Not to the point where it was unbearable. Was his whole head even inside? Could she...Yes! She could, would do this.

His face was tense with concern, worry. The poor boy: he'd seen a girl slam on the brakes, balking at his bulk in the past. She nodded up at him. "More please."