Sonia
by MBP (MWFAN318@aol.com)
A man in love has a dilemma

"Does it bother you that I'm stronger than you," asked Sonia as she 
pressed her head against my muscular chest.  "What do you think?" 

"I'm getting used to the it," I replied, which was at least a half-
truth.  It was actually sinking in, but I really was unsure I'd ever be 
used to it. 

Sonia giggled.  "Good.  I'd hate for anything to get in the way of our 
relationship because I love you."  She snuggled her small body tighter 
against mine and started nuzzling my chest.  I was instantly aroused.  
Sonia could feel my hardness and she giggled again.  "Okay, let's go to 
bed," she said, and scooping my 185 pounds up into her surprisingly 
strong arms, she carried me into my bedroom. 

After a couple of hours of incredible bliss, I watched Sonia as she 
slept.  I loved her; that much I knew.  But it was difficult looking at 
Sonia, at her perfect 5-foot, 95-pound body, without my mind wandering 
to recent events.  

We had been dating for three months.  When we met at her job, I thought, 
and still obviously think, that Sonia was the sexiest woman I'd ever 
seen.  She was slim, had well-shaped full breasts, an unbelievable butt, 
sensuous lips, and awesome legs.  Sonia was wearing blue jeans that 
looked painted on, and she was barefoot.  I have a bit of a foot fetish, 
and hers were perfect.  When she looked at me with those bedroom eyes, I 
nearly fainted.  We talked movies, as Sonia worked in a video store, and 
I immediately rented three of her favorites.  She asked to come over to 
watch them with me.  Our first night was perfect, as have been the days 
that followed.  Then it happened. 

We were in my king-sized bed enjoying one of our favorite pastimes, 
watching videos.  I like adventure comedies, and Sonia brought over "Our 
Man Flint," one of the two ("In Like Flint" is the other, and may have 
had the scene that follows) tongue-in-cheek adventure movies that James 
Coburn had starred in as the spy named Flint.  The scene was on the 
screen where the group of ladies from the spa joined Flint in trying to 
stop the fake President from taking over the world.  The women attacked 
some army personnel, and kicked ass.  When it ended, I turned to Sonia 
and declared,  "A mere woman can't stop me.  I'm taking over the world," 
and started tickling her.  Sonia laughingly fought back, and pretty soon 
we were surprisingly engaged in a wrestling match.        

Let me tell you something here.  I'm a pretty strong guy.  I work out 
(probably not often enough) and keep in good shape.  Sonia has no 
muscles, at least none that are visible.  Her arms are smooth, her legs 
are shapely without being muscular, and she is all sexy curves.  From 
our physical love-making, I knew she wasn't a total wimp.  But what 
happened was absolutely shocking. 

Our wrestling match heated up, and Sonia was doing surprisingly well.  
I'm nearly double her weight (and 13 inches taller) but she was more 
than holding her own.  At the beginning, we'd both been laughing and 
playing, but it was now more serious.  Sonia still had on her beguiling 
smile, but I had lost mine.  It gets that way when your slim, sexy, non-
muscular girlfriend is getting the better of you.  Sonia was on top of 
me most of the time, trying to pin my arms down.  When I got on top, I 
assumed my 90-pound weight advantage, and supposedly greater strength, 
would assure my staying there.  But Sonia either wriggled out, or simply 
pushed me off of her.  When she was on top and grabbed my wrists, she 
succeeded in controlling my arms for longer and longer periods as the 
match progressed.  It's funny.  If Sonia wasn't fighting back, I could 
probably carry her under one arm.  But her strength seemed more than a 
match for mine, and she was winning. 

Sonia got herself wrapped tightly around me, like cellophane wrap.  Her 
entire body, arms, and legs, were woven around my upper torso.  I had 
carried her in the past like that, walking through the streets, and it 
was fun.  But it was very different now, and I could not dislodge her.  
We stayed in the position for at least a minute; then Sonia realized 
that although she could hold me like that indefinitely, she couldn't 
force me to submit.  So she released her hold, grabbed my right arm with 
both of hers, stuck her pretty feet into my rib cage, and pulled back.  
It hurt, and I could feel the stress on my right shoulder.  I realized 
that Sonia could dislocate my shoulder and that she was not applying 
full pressure.  But it still hurt like hell.  It did not take me long to 
give up. 

With my submission, Sonia pulled off her shirt and climbed on top of me. 

"Do you still think a mere woman won't be able to stop world 
domination," she giggled, as she removed her bra. 

 It wasn't until then that I realized she was still playing our little 
game.  Our wrestling match had been real, and Sonia had won, but it was 
still in the context of our "foreplay."  Sonia kissed me deeply with her 
full, sweet lips, and then rubbed her bare breasts slowly up my chest.  
When her breasts reached my mouth, I gave them the attention they 
deserved, and we made love.     

It was only later, with Sonia sleeping naked in my arms, that I realized 
how I felt.  I'm a pretty enlightened male.  But losing to a woman, my 
woman, my pint-sized, sexy woman, at a sport like wrestling, was very 
difficult to bear.  I could have glossed over losing at tennis, or 
billiards, or pin-ball, but wrestling was different.  If I had lost to a 
man (or a boy) who was Sonia's size, it would have also bothered me a 
lot.  Just not nearly as much.  So that night, when I should have been 
full of joy with the woman of my dreams in my arms, I was disturbed.  To 
say the least.  

Two days later, I instigated another match with Sonia.  We were naked in 
bed, preparing for a night of passion.  All of a sudden, the maddening 
thought of losing crossed unwelcome into my mind, and I looked Sonia up 
and down.  I could see her sexy legs and feet up against my larger, more 
muscular version.  I looked at her forearms, and at her biceps, which 
couldn't be more than 9 inches, compared to my 14-inch guns.  I stared 
at her perfect breasts, matching up the soft, sexy tissue with my solid 
chest.  And finally I viewed the decent-sized symbol of my manhood, now 
semi-hard, comparing it with her welcoming vagina.   And I couldn't 
stand it.  I rolled Sonia onto her back, pressed her arms to the pillow, 
and tried to make a joke of it. 

"Okay, Supergirl, are you ready for another go?" 

Sonia was already in the hot-and-bothered stage. 

"C'mon, Michael, let's just make love." 

"What's the matter, Sonia?  Do you think last time was a fluke and you 
surprised me?  Let's see what you got."  I admit this dialog needed a 
little work. 

Sonia grabbed my penis in one of her small hands, and started to stroke.  
Involuntary, my cock had a mind of its own, and grew.  

"Wouldn't you rather I do this," she cooed. 

I answered by pulling her hand away from my dick, and pushing them back 
up against the pillows. 

"Wrestling is foreplay.  All that touching and grabbing.  Let's wrestle, 
and then let's make love." 

"Okay," Sonia said, and made a sudden move.  I was now pinned beneath 
her, my arms against the pillows.  She leaned over and kissed my mouth 
hard.  I threw her off and we began wrestling.  

It was over quickly.  It couldn't have taken two minutes. Sonia was 
sitting high on my chest, her vagina up close to my mouth, both of my 
arms securely pinned to the bed.  Along the way, Sonia had played with 
me: rubbed her breasts up against my cock, kissed me all over, and at 
one point had even sat on my chest in reverse, and played with my penis 
with her feet.  The extra foreplay had served several purposes: to 
weaken me; to turn me on; and to show her dominance in that she could do 
all these things and beat me at the same time. I'm not sure she was 
conscious of the dominance theme.  I'm pretty sure she wasn't.  But it 
served that purpose and it may have been in her sub-conscious.  But than 
more likely it was her way of teasing and playing with me.  And what she 
did next confirmed one of the theories.  I'm just not sure which one. 

Sonia got out of bed, and dragged me with her.  Then she leaned over and 
lifted me up onto her slim shoulders.  Sonia walked easily with her 
burden to the full-length mirror in the bedroom and posed.  We could 
both see how much larger I was; parts of me were almost touching the 
floor.  I saw Sonia's amazing body complete in the mirror: naked, 
perfect, feminine, and without a hint of muscles.  How she was handling 
me was a mystery, but she was doing it.  Sonia had the teasing smile on 
her face.  She liked being the stronger of the two of us, but I'm still 
not sure why.  

After she finished her posing, Sonia maneuvered me into a different 
position, and wrapped her mouth around my penis.  And for the next 
minute or so, I got a blow job five feet off the ground, supported by a 
person who was smaller than the average 13-year-old. 

After I came, Sonia tossed me back onto the bed, and we made love the 
rest of the night.  It was a crazy night.  I was unbelievably turned-on, 
and amazingly humiliated at the same time.  This led to many orgasms, 
but to feeling wretched also.  As I said, it was a strange night. 

So now it's two weeks later and we are back to the present.  Sonia has 
finally asked me the questions of whether her being stronger was a 
problem, and I am still sorting it out.  Sometimes, I think I'll get 
over it and go with the flow, and other times I plan to challenge Sonia 
at arm-wrestling.  Somewhere in my mind, despite my losing at wrestling 
and being easily carried by my sexy lady, I still think I can take her 
at arm-wrestling.  Perhaps Sonia's body is stronger, and her technique 
is good at wrestling, but my arms are stronger.  And perhaps this is a 
pipe dream.  But the next time you are in bed, and lying next to your 
wife or girlfriend, or whomever, try to imagine her overpowering you, 
and how this would make you feel.  Especially if your woman is tiny and 
sexy, and you're a good-sized man.  

I think I'll get over it because I love Sonia.  At least, I hope I get 
over it.