I work in a men’s clothing store. Having a good midwestern work ethic, I check every order before sending it to the factory, even those taken by other managers.

It was while I was doing this that I noticed what seemed to be a big mistake.

I found an order for a man who was, apparently, fairly heavy for his height — 215 pounds at five-eleven. His neck was more than 18 inches, his chest was 51 inches, and his waist was 32 inches. Either some of these measurements were wrong, or this guy had one hell of a physique. On the off chance that this was the right information, I wanted to meet this Goliath.

You see, ever since I can remember, I have had a real weakness for guys with big muscles. I loved to watch all those old Hercules movies and pretend that I was the young slave girl who would be rescued by the strength and power of the huge muscle man. More recently, I’ve become a big fan of “American Gladiators.” The sight of those big guys just gets my pussy juices flowing.

I decided to call this guy, Marty, to come back in for a refitting, claiming I wanted to make sure we had all the right information. I said I was the new manager and wanted to take personal responsibility for every aspect of my job. I suggested he stop in sometime near closing. To my delight, he said he appreciated the extra effort and would be happy to stop by the next night after he finished his workout.

Upon hearing him say “workout,” I became overwhelmed with excitement! This was not a potbellied guy — this was, in fact, a real muscle man!

I debated what to wear for my first encounter with a real bodybuilder, wanting to show off my very firm, five-foot-five, 115-pound, 37C-23-35 body. I decided on a simple white silk top that clung to my firm breasts and a short black leather miniskirt that showed off my great legs. Of course, I wore no bra and my skimpiest panties.

Just around closing the next night, I looked up and saw him. He looked even bigger than I thought he would. He was wearing a Gold’s Gym sweatshirt and baggy muscle pants. His enormous shoulders tapered to the tightest ass you can imagine. He was in his late twenties, about my age, and very well groomed, with dark-brown hair and deep-blue eyes. His rugged good looks fit the rest of him perfectly.

I thanked him for stopping in and suggested we step into the fitting room to take his measurements. I had to stretch my arms to get the tape measure around his enormous chest. While doing this, I could feel how rock-hard he was. His pecs felt like slabs of granite, his back muscles rippled through the thick sweatshirt. Wanting to see more of his body, I pointed out that we could get the best results if he would slip out of his shirt. He was more than willing to accommodate. I think he was catching on to my little game, as he noticed my nipples harden.

It was staggering! I was standing in front of my very own Hercules — deep tan, bulging muscles, and the smoothest skin. This guy was awesome! I continued my job once again, measuring his chest and his tight little waist. I said I wanted to make sure the suit we ordered would have enough room to accommodate his big arms, so I asked him to flex to get the right measurement. While he flexed, I held my breath as the tape stretched to 21 inches.

I couldn’t help myself. I asked him to flex his entire body for me. He was certainly on to me now. It was all I had to say. Without breaking eye contact, he slipped off his muscle pants, revealing the teeniest bright-blue bikini briefs. His thighs looked like they were carved out of tree trunks. As he went from one pose to another, I became hotter and hotter. Almost instinctively, without really thinking, I slipped off my top, revealing my big, firm tits. I cupped them gently in my hands, playing with my hard nipples. He smiled as he saw me getting pleasure out of worshiping his huge body. He looked down at my miniskirt without saying a word. I knew what he wanted to see. I writhed out of my skirt and displayed my body for him. His cock showed me that he liked what he saw.

I moved closer to this mountain of muscle. I got down on my knees and slowly removed the last bit of clothing between my mouth and his cock. His shaft was as well-developed as the rest of him. As I took him into my mouth, he groaned with pleasure, and while I worked on his muscle shaft, he continued to pump and flex. His body was now covered with a thin film of sweat — it made him even more beautiful. As he flexed and I sucked, we were surrounded by images of ourselves in the fitting-room mirrors. This added to our excitement, as we got off on our perfect bodies.

I looked up at him and whispered, “I want you to be my Hercules.” He smiled and said that nothing would please him more. He spotted the big chains that we use to secure the security bars on the loading dock. He asked me to wrap them around his enormous chest. I knew exactly what he was doing — he was going to act out one of my favorite scenes from the movies.

As he towered above me, his cock deep in my mouth, I saw him place his hands on his waist and breathe deeply — his chest expanded, his pecs bulged, his lats flared out, and the chains fell from around my Hercules. As he broke free, he came in my mouth. His load was thick and hot, just like his body.

It was incredible. Since that time, we have played out many other fantasy scenes. The sex is really great when two gorgeous bodies merge in muscle-crazed passion!