Transferred

Transferred

Dave Andrews was a high-powered salesman with a high-powered secret-he came completely unglued whenever he saw womanly muscles. The muscled calves of a woman, bulging as they propelled her down the sidewalk, drew him inexorably, like iron filings to a magnet. Dave would follow her, powerless, out of control, heart pounding, lightheaded. Faster and faster he walked, pulled ever closer, until he nearly collided with her and the words he struggled to keep himself from saying jumped from his mouth: "I love your legs!" He never waited for a response-before she could speak to him he turned and fled, coattails flying, tears streaming down his cheeks. Sometimes he ran all the way home, the memory of her shocked expression burning in his mind.
At night he masturbated, replaying the mental video of her muscular calves until he came. Before he fell asleep, he promised he would never, never, do it again.

One day, his secretary buzzed him on the intercom. "Mr. Johnson would like to see you in his office, Dave", she said in an unusually serious tone. He got up and walked down the hall to his boss' office. The door was ajar. Johnson motioned him in.
"Dave, I'm going to have to transfer you to southern Utah", Johnson said gravely. "I know it's not the best assignment, but we need someone like you to develop that territory. You're to report to our Salt Lake office day after tomorrow. Someone will drive you down to your office from there. Sorry, Dave, it's nothing personal, its business."
Any other man would have been devastated, but Dave was so happy he cried when he got back to his office. Southern Utah was remote. I'll be free at last, he thought. The chances of seeing any woman, let alone a muscular one, in that Godforsaken part of the country, were slim to none.

---

Dave was sitting on his patio, having a cup of coffee, reflecting on his good fortune. It had been two weeks since his transfer, and he had seen only a half-dozen, very conventional, unmuscled women. Dave decided he liked southern Utah, he liked it very much. "I'm free at last", he said out loud. "I'm free to concentrate on my work in this muscular woman-free environment", he continued, confident no one would hear him.
The bang of a screen door slamming startled Dave out of his reverie. A woman had stepped out the back door of the house next door. She looked in Dave's direction and asked, "Did you hear something out here? I thought I heard someone talking."
She had long silver hair, and her dark brown skin was softly wrinkled. She was wearing a pair of white cotton shorts and a blue T-shirt, and she was barefoot. But Dave wasn't trying to guess her age or critique her wardrobe-he was dumbfounded by the sight of her huge calves and by arms as muscled as a laborer's.
"Hello? Did you hear me?" she asked, walking in his direction.
"I'm sorry. Yes, I heard you. I'm a little distracted, that's all", he said, his heart racing.
"My name's Joyce Martinez", she said, offering her hand. "What's yours?"
"It's Dave…Dave Andrews", he squeaked, accepting her hand. It was as thick as a man's.
"May I join you?" she asked. "As long as we're going to be neighbors, we ought to get acquainted, don't you think?" she said, sitting cross-legged on the patio. "Are you OK?" she asked, "You seem a little nervous."
"I am nervous", he said. He had never been this close to this much female muscle for more than a few seconds. The feeling of not being able to control what he was doing was overtaking him. His heart began to race.
"What are you nervous about?" she asked. There was something about her-something that made it easy for him to say what he had struggled to keep from saying for years.
"It's your, your muscles", he finally managed. "See, I've always had a weakness for …or I should say an attraction to muscular women, but at the same time, I couldn't ever stand being close to one. I've struggled with this all my life…or at least for as long as I can remember. I don't know what else to say. I've never told anyone about this before, and I hope you're not offended."

The woman had been looking into the distance as he spoke, and Dave wondered if she'd heard anything he said. Her eyes were the bluest he'd ever seen. "Dave, we're kind of opposites", she began. "I've been teased about my muscles ever since I was about twelve. I pretended to be embarrassed, but the truth is, I liked having big muscles." She laughed. "Boys would ask me to arm-wrestle. I always let them win, even though I knew I could have beaten them."
"And, my muscles kept growing. I'm lucky, I guess. Muscles run in my family. My Dad had really huge arms, and I get my calves from my Mom. I've got definition you wouldn't believe. Even a six-pack!" she said, slapping her belly. Suddenly she looked pensive.
"Are you OK?" Dave asked.
"Yes." She looked away again, then back into Dave's eyes. "It's just that, what I was going to say is kind of personal."
"It's OK", Dave said reassuringly, laying a hand on her shoulder. A shiver ran through his body as he felt the cantaloupe-sized lump of muscle.
"I've never really enjoyed sex", she said, hesitating. "I always held back because I was afraid if I really let go, my strength-my muscles-would intimidate a man." She looked at him with her sky-blue eyes. "I've never said this to anyone, Dave…you're the first", she confessed.

Dave felt a sense of peace he had never known before, sitting with this brown woman in the desert sun. In the few minutes they'd been together, his heart had slowed to a normal rate, and the feeling of not being in control had disappeared. "Joyce, the truth is, I've prayed for some relief from my struggle with my attraction", he said, feeling an unfamiliar sense of lightness.
"Well, Dave", she went on. "There's more. Would you like to hear?" Dave nodded. "When I look at my muscles I get turned on-I always have. And I flex my biceps when I masturbate. I imagine a man is feeling it."
"And I've prayed, too, Dave. I've prayed for a man who would be turned on to my muscles…a man like you, Dave."
After a few seconds, Dave asked, "Joyce, would you flex for me?" His dick was as hard as a bicycle tire.
"With pleasure", she said, pushing up her sleeve. Dave couldn't believe his eyes. Her bulging biceps and hawser-thick triceps stretched the wrinkles out of her skin. The veins of her forearm were the size of worms. Her definition was fantastic. Dave could see every fiber of quivering muscle. "Please feel it", she whispered.
He put his palm on her muscle. He squeezed as hard as he could, but there was no give-her muscle was as hard as a stone.
"Would you like to see all of me?" she asked.
"Yes", he whispered. She stood up and pulled Dave to his feet. She reached down and stroked his hardon.
"Come over to my place", she whispered in his ear.
"I would like that very much", Dave said, feeling as if he were about to faint. She took him by the hand. He followed her across her yard, up the steps and into her house, his dick throbbing.

"Let's sit at the kitchen table for a while, Dave. I'd like to talk some more…first", she said coyly. "Would you like something cool to drink?" she asked, opening her refrigerator. "I have some nice lemon tea…I think you'd like it. I'm going to have some. Would you like a cup?" The salesman was so taken with the sight of her he didn't respond to her question. "Dave?" she asked, coming over and laying her arm across his shoulders.
"Ah, Joyce", he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so impressed by the sight of you I didn't hear what you said-look at me! I haven't even sat down yet!"
"Well, my spellbound new neighbor, sit down and relax", Joyce laughed. "I'm going to put on some music, and then I'll fix us some tea." The CD she chose was of Native American flute music.
A mournful sound filled the air. Staring out the kitchen window she announced, "My brother made this", she said, listening intently.
"You mean this is your brother playing?" Dave asked.
"Yes", she answered, suddenly very serious. "It's one-of-a-kind. He made it for me. He said it was full of magic, and that it would guide me and a man along the path to enchantment. He is revered among 'The People'", she said, closing her eyes. It is said that he is the greatest flute player our tribe has ever produced." Years of life in the desert echoed in her voice.
"You are an Indian, then, aren't you, Joyce?" Dave asked, feeling unsure, as if he were on sacred ground.
"Half", Joyce said, opening her eyes. "Well, let's have some tea and conversation", she said abruptly, opening the refrigerator. Four swelling muscle teardrops pushed her on tiptoes to take cups from the top shelf of the cupboard. The woman sat down, crossing her arms on the table.
Dave drank her with his eyes, taking an inventory. Powerful forearms defined from living and working; thick veins evident even when her arms were relaxed; biceps sliding up her arm as she brought the cup to her lips.
She rubbed his leg with her bare foot. His dick threatened to burst through his pants.

"Dave?" Joyce asked suddenly, startling him out of his reverie. "How do you understand why you've been conflicted about your attraction to a woman with muscles?"
For the first time in his life, he knew the answer-it was if the music had unlocked a door. "Joyce", he said, full of seriousness, "Muscles on a woman allow me to be sexual. I don't know how else to explain it. If she has muscles, it somehow makes 'sex' with a capital 'S' feel safe. Does that make sense?" he asked, not believing for a second that she could possibly understand.
"Yes, it does, Dave. It makes perfect sense", Joyce said, gazing at him with her sky-blue eyes. "You have a fetish. Most men do. And, that's OK." She reached across the table and took his hand. "You needn't have worried yourself so for so many years, Dave. I'm sorry it has caused you such anguish. All you really needed was someone to accept that part of you and give you permission to enjoy your sexuality via your fetish."
"Joyce, I'm going to cry" Dave said, his eyes filling with tears. "How do you know these things?" he begged. The woman stood up and gently pulled Dave to his feet. She held him in her arms while he sobbed away the embarrassment of the secret he had kept since he was an adolescent.
When the salesman finally composed himself, the woman took him by the shoulders, kissed him lightly on the lips and said, "I will tell you one day how I know these things, my man. But, now, you are a free man, and it is time for you to enjoy a woman as never before. Come into my living room, sit on my couch. Listen to my brother playing his flute. I will dance for you."

Dave felt as if he was dreaming. Joyce took off her shorts and T-shirt. She wore no underclothes. Her dancing muscles seemed to be linked to the notes emanating from her brother's flute.
His melody fevered and her hips writhed like a snake working its way through tall grass.
Of a sudden, the music slowed to a crawl, and the woman relaxed, arms hanging at her sides. Her chest heaved. Rivulets of sweat ran down her dark brown body. She stared at him with her sky blue eyes. Before Dave could react, she took off his shirt, undid his belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled off his trousers. She knelt in front of him and took down his underwear, releasing his stiff pole. She looked into his eyes as she licked his leaking dick and asked, "Dave, I think you like what you see?" But it wasn't really a question.
She reached around his hips, put her hands under his buttocks and pulled him into her mouth. He felt her biceps and her deltoids as her head bobbed slowly up and down. He ran his fingers through her silver hair.
Then, as quick as a mink, she was on the couch with him, pulling him on top of her. She slipped his dick inside her and began to heave underneath him. Dave felt her buttocks, the small of her back and the ropy muscles on each side of her spine, her deltoids, and her iron biceps she gladly flexed for him. Everywhere he touched felt like hard rubber under loosely-fitting silk.
Joyce knew she was about to come. She smiled, put her middle finger in her mouth several times until it was coated with saliva. "Spread your legs, Dave", she whispered. He did as he was told. She pushed her slickened finger in his rectum. She found his prostate and pushed on it with the tip of her finger. "Come, Dave", she ordered, "Come like you've never come before and I will come with you. Come…NOW!" she screamed.

Dave awoke three hours later when the CD player clicked off. He had been dreaming of flying over the desert. The woman's head was on his shoulder. He caressed her silver hair and felt her breasts. He felt her pussy, still wet from their encounter. "Joyce?" He asked. "Are you awake?" He could feel her head nod "Yes". "I'm going to enjoy having you as a neighbor", he whispered.
She lifted up her head, looked into his eyes and said, "And I am going to enjoy having you as a neighbor."

Transferred - One Year Later

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