Estelle and me By Philogynia This story contains explicit sex scenes together with some violence. If you are under the age of consent in your country or if such topics offend you, please do not read on. You probably don't know about my friend Estelle. She's difficult to describe but - I assure you - impossible to forget. I'm normally very picky about girls and I had been a bachelor for a few years now. My sexuality was easily described as fictitious and so, I simply thought that my sex drive was quite low and, as such, I saw no real rush in getting a woman to bed. I would like to dissipate some doubts you might have concerning my capacity in bringing women to bed. I'm 1.85 m in height and I weigh 90 kg. For those of you who are still using the quaint imperial system, I think this corresponds roughly to 6 feet and 200 lb. I believe I've got a good physique: I've been training for 6 years now and although I do not consider myself as 'big', I am somewhat muscular and I've been complimented often enough on my physique that I indulge in believing I possess a certain attractiveness. I've got blue eyes, a sensual mouth and my education is adequate although I still make mistakes when riting in English. This last one was on purpose. Sexually speaking, I like to believe that my penis is rather adequate. In fact, I know it is as some of my previous lovers admitted their admiration for both the size and the gracious curve of my erect member. I always enjoyed sex. My orgasms were as satisfying as were those I rewarded my partners with. I tell you this in all honesty and I'd be saddened if you were to infer that I am boasting. I am not. But more importantly, not only is my penis adequate, but since I always enjoyed sex, my - let's say - participation to love making has always been a source of satisfaction and fulfilment for my partners. In other words, my technique is excellent. From this purely technical point of view, I've always felt that I was controlling the pleasure of my partner and this, in turn, meant that I was controlling them. I used to derive great pleasure out of this. Having turned a woman on and instilled in her, both spiritually and physically, a desire so great that only physical relief could bring her back to reality was for me the most beautiful aspect of sex. Reaching simultaneous orgasms was in that respect somewhat disappointing. The ultimate satisfaction was to come after my partner, after she had exhausted herself in the pleasure of the flesh. After an orgasm, most women become fragile and tremble like a flower. That's when a man's power is at it's peak. "To fill with stars a trembling body and to fall consumed by love", as the song says, is how I ended the love sessions that I think were the most satisfying of my life. This was before I met Estelle. But before I introduce you to her, let me tell you briefly about the type of women I like. Looking back at my past, I realise today that I was constantly attracted by a wide variety of women. Their smile was for me the beginning of a love story. Their eyes, the origin of any physical desire. Truly beautiful women have eyes so deep that you are inexorably attracted in their interior world. Getting physically attracted then becomes a formality. Those women lucky enough to combine the pure aesthetical physical beauty with this inner supplementary dimension are those to become legendary. My lovers ranged from the young, frivolous, life loving girls to enigmatic older representatives of this mysterious sex. If sometimes physical beauty was absent, my erection were dictated by other incentives. Making love to any of them was not a matter of visual stimulation but rather a sort of spiritual communion. Of course I sometimes fantasised about being in bed with a more attractive partner but what is the importance of such considerations when you give your partner all the pleasure she is seeking and often even more while at the same time adding a small dose of exciting illegality to your own accomplishments. In other words, as far as my sexual desire was concerned, their physique was an insignificant stimulus. This was before I met Estelle. I met Estelle at the university sports centre. For a reason unknown to me, this detail counts as its seems that I could not have met her anywhere else. I had just finished a squash game with an older colleague. He used to be my thesis supervisor and now we were collaborating on more even grounds. I took on the habit of letting him win most matches as it was for him a source of self-fulfilment and for me a good time to practice more technical shots. I would like to point out here that this unspoken deal was beneficial for both of us and thus justified. But I digress. After one of those matches, as a went to pay for my court, next to the reception desk stood a remarkable woman. She was about my height, perhaps a little taller. At first she looked fat but a second glance reveal that she was in fact very solidly built with very long and strong legs. This attracted me for a reason I could then not explained. She had short, sexy, thick black hair that she subtly touched with a dash of gel. She was wearing a track suit that covered her from shoulders to ankles and her generous forms were somehow enhanced by the fabric. Let it all be clear. At this point, I did not feel like flirting with that particular woman. I've always said that flirt, or seduction if you prefer, is an integral part of life. We all have to prove periodically to ourselves that we still can brighten up someone's life with a witty remark, by a strategically planned smile or simply by using body language when the situation offer no other civilised means of communication. When I got up to the counter, I had no preconceived idea as to what was going to happen. Seduction is like a chemistry between to bodies: a catalyst may exist and it is up to life to deliver it. "Are you sure my friend Juliette did not make the booking?" asked the young woman to the attendant. "We agreed on Tuesday night, I don't understand.". This last sentence gave me a chance to interrupt. "Actually, she did but I convinced her to play with me instead." I said, promoting my foreign accent to a slightly more prominent level than usual. As she turned around to look at me, I already knew what I was going to say. But for a fraction of a second, I could not articulate. She was beautiful. Her face was slightly oblong with black and white eyes contrasting violently with her dark skin tone. Her lips were full but yet elegant and her slightly aquiline nose gave her an exotic pacific look. Fortunately, and when I say fortunately it is as much for you as it is for me otherwise you would not be enjoying this story, I managed to extract myself with dignity from her hypnotic attraction and added "I mean play squash with me." topping it all with an engaging smile. She immediately smiled. I could read in her sparkling eyes that her sense of humour appreciated the skilful balance between the risk I took and the effect I obtained. She looked at me briefly inspecting my stance. I had strategically leaned on the counter giving myself a relaxed position. She liked that. The art of seduction dictated that, the advantage being mine, I should make the next move as well: "Seriously speaking, if you'd like a game, I'd be more than happy to play with you." and reaching for her hand I added "My name is F.". She immediately responded by shaking mine: "And I'm Estelle.". You might think at this point that I had everything under control and you would probably be right. Estelle was by then in a very playful mood a spoke a lot as we were walking down towards the squash courts. Her voice was soft but yet lively; she was obviously young and showed all the vivacity and "joie de vivre" expected with someone inexperienced with the disillusions of life. It is strangely satisfying to know that your own life experience somehow encompasses somebody else's; that you possibly could relive through that person the greatest moment of discovery of your life. It is akin to watching a child discovering ripples in a pond; we see ourselves reliving these moments. Estelle, in the way she talked and walked made me feel superior and somehow in control. I was wrong. I realised this very early on as I asked her "Don't you want to ring your friend to clear this misunderstanding?" to which she replied "Well, I'm not sure I want to clear this up and besides, I think I will have more fun with you.". This might seem very inconsequential to you but I knew something was odd. The tone of her voice was mischievous and I was slightly thrown off by the aplomb with which she answered my question notwithstanding the double meaning of the last part of the answer. The more astute amongst the readers of this little tale will also note that this was said ("will have fun with you") as if I had no choice. I did not noticed this obvious fact. As we were walking down, I notice that she was a few centimetres taller than me. Not much but enough so that I had the somewhat uneasy feeling that she was looking down on me. At the same time, it was exciting. I also noticed how strongly build she was. Under her tracksuit seemed to live an enormous body. Her chest was very impressive from looking side on. The front zipper of her top was partially open and offered me a view on her t-shirt that was visibly stretched by her breasts. She also had very broad shoulders and if her clothes were not lying, her thighs seemed gigantic. When she passed in front of me to get into the court, I could not help but to swallow when I saw her back so close to me. Etiquette would normally not permit this, but since I use a nom-de-plume to sign this story, I can tell you now that I had in my shorts an erection that defied Newton's gravity and that was totally unrelated to Einstein's relativity. But let's come back to Estelle. Her back looked extremely wide in her loose top but her ass was magnificently outlined by the fabric of her suit. She had perfectly round cheeks that moved graciously as she walked and they had the muscularity sometimes seen on those black track & field American female athletes. When I set foot on the court, my knees were trembling and I had to pretend that after my last game, I needed to drink a little before starting. I went to the bathroom, splash cold water in my face and thought very hard about my latest research project, which by the way never looked so inconsequential as it did during that moment, before I lost this erection. After all, I was in control of the situation, wasn't I? When I got back to the court, Estelle was stretching her inspiring body. She was sitting on the floor, leg wide spread, chest on the floor reaching as far as she could. She turned towards me and said: "Are you ready F.? I think I am now.". In an incredible display of flexibility, she opened her legs even wider, keeping her chest on the floor, swiped them on either side and brought them together now stretching flat on the floor. In so doing, she revealed the beauty and the muscularity of her ass in a way that is difficult to report here with precision as it is impossible to describe the effect it has on me. My erection was back but this time with an intensity that I hadn't experienced since my teenage years. It was there without my consent projecting it tickling roots all along my spine up to my brain. I knew I was close to premature ejaculation; something I had never experienced before. Clumsily, I pulled my racket out of its case and bounced the ball a few times ready to start this game before something uncontrollable would happen. Strangely enough, Estelle did not notice my state of excitement. She smiled at me, and said "Ok, I hope you can teach me a few tricks. My friend Juliette keeps on humiliating me and I'd like to pay her back other than physically.". I had no idea what she meant but I manage to say "Well, I'm a fairly good player and I'm sure this is possible." without looking at her as this was very dangerous. Finally, the game started and Estelle quickly showed me that - although she didn't possess the best technique - she had the will to win. She was running at every shot, never giving up, grunting at times and throwing her body around like I have never seen a squash player do before. I could not resist admiring the lightness of every movement of her gigantic body. Her speed was almost paradoxical. How could such a big female move so rapidly? Her wrist were amazingly quick and her forehand was deadly. Every piece of advice I gave her was instantly absorbed, digested and assimilated. I think within a few minutes, she became a much better player. She kept asking why she had lost that particular point, what she should have done under those circumstances, why was she wrong-footed. She was curious and obviously both physically and intellectually gifted. By then my erection had eased. I was enjoying the situation and being the coach gave me back this feeling of control I momentarily lost earlier on. During one exceptionally long rally where I had her running from side to side while giving her advice as we went along, she did an unexpected shot that had me running on the other side of the court towards her. Being concentrated on the ball, I didn't noticed that Estelle didn't move out of my way and when I tried to reach for the ball, I tripped over her leg. I remember thinking that the impact with the wall was going to hurt but, in a flash, Estelle reached out grabbed me with one arm and stopped my fall. Suspended in mid-air, facing the ground, I did not quite understand what was happening. Only when Estelle flipped me over like a crepe did I realised that this magnificent creature was holding me like a feather. "You are an excellent coach, F.," she said to me with a large smile "don't hurt yourself otherwise I will not be able to beat Juliette and to show you my gratitude.". The combination of her huge body in front of me, sweat pouring down her face and along her neck, and the possibility of being the beneficiary of her thankfulness was too much for me and my erection took control over my will. This time, she clearly noticed it; she put me back on my feet and said: "Few, this thrashing you gave me really made me sweat. This is good.". She went towards one of the front corners and removed her top. My God! Her sweat drenched t-shirt was moulding her gigantic back like a second skin. I had never seen such a level of muscularity on anybody. Her back looked like an mutant anatomic map: every single muscle was hypertrophised. It simply exploded out of her waist to reach inhuman shoulders showing their striations through her t-shirt. As she was patiently folding her top in front of her, her back muscles were rolling like a raging sea. I was now heavily sweating and my erection was nothing short of prodigious. That is when she turned around revealing an even more breathtaking side of herself. She stood there, letting me admire her hypnotic muscularity. Contouring every intricacy of her muscle armour, her t-shirt was stretched beyond belief. Her large black obsessive nipples were staring at me from their gigantic flesh platform. I had never seen such big breasts in my life but yet they were defying gravity making a mockery of it. To say that her stomach was like a washboard was ridiculous; the horizontal and vertical grooves in it were like canyons separated by masses of striated living muscles. Her arms, casually resting on either side of her incomprehensible body, were in themselves unreal. Starting from her pumpkin shaped shoulders, her arms, pushed sideways by her giant lats, when looking face on, were already extraordinary thick when at rest. Her forearms appeared incredibly smooth and strong and the racket she was holding looked like coming out of a cereal box. Suddenly, she started to walk towards me. He she moved, her breasts swung majestically up and down while her abdominal muscle were constantly rearranging the topography of her stomach. When she got up to me, I was still looking at her stomach. Estelle then said "You look slightly impress, F.". Somehow I thought that I could reverse the situation and bring it under my control. "Yes...err, your stomach muscle are not bad." I managed to say clumsily. Running one of her long strong finger along my rock hard penis, she said "And what about these?". I raised my eyes from her stomach to see her flexing an arm the size of my thigh but only much harder and powerful right before my eyes. I could not believe the mountain of flesh she had on display in front of me. Every detail was grossly exaggerated. Every curve, every dip, every vein was disproportionate. The tip of her biceps - the tip of an iceberg of muscle - was peaking with rage in contact with her enormous forearm. An amazing sexual tension had build up in me. I was close to ejaculation when she said "And you know what? I can becomes even bigger! Look.". Dropping her smile and putting all her energy in her arm, Estelle tensed it even more and it grew steadily ripping the t-shirt sleeve and tensing her skin over a maze of veins the size of my fingers. I exploded in my short releasing an grandiose amount of semen. Pushing me against the wall, she violently french-kissed me and quickly reached inside my short with one hand, collecting as much sperm as possible and spreading it, inside my shirt, on my stomach muscle. After a few seconds of being squashed against the wall subjected to her gratifying torture, she moved away from me and picked up my racket that I had dropped during this incident. Handing it back to me she said "This was a little token of my appreciation, F.; if you come in the afternoon to my place the day after tomorrow, I should be even more inspiring.". If you think any human being could have resisted such an offer, I would suggest that the differences between you and me are more than linguistic and more related to biological species classification. "If I tell you a few more squash tricks, can you make that this evening?". She laughed and added, while dressing up and gathering her things, "You know, the guys I really like are those who can make me laugh.". As she walked pass me with her bag on one shoulder, she gave me her card. "See you tomorrow late afternoon, F., bring some wine and your smile.". There I was, alone in this squash court. Looking at her card and thinking "How could this be possible?". Who was this herculean woman that sexually made me look like pubescent child not understanding the powerful change in his body? Her card read "Estelle: philanthropist". I left the court mumbling "She sure is.". The next day, I tried to do something meaningful at work. I was getting nowhere. All I could think of was Estelle and her unreal anatomy. If any adult thinks about sex on average 5 or 6 times a day, reading my mind on that day would have revealed the negative of this image. Amongst one of the few times I did not think about her was when I burnt myself with the coffee pot trying to imagine her naked legs and ass. I realise that you are anxious to know what happened next but first, you must realised that I had decided this woman was not going to humiliate me sexually the way she had done it (although privately) on the squash court. I had unequivocally decided that I was going to seduce her and that I would end up on top. Perhaps not physically, but at least psychologically. It was in this frame of mind that I knock on her door the following day armed with a 1983 vintage Australian Shiraz red in one hand - that I recommend wholeheartedly - flowers in the other and with my most charming smile deployed. The afternoon was slowly dying and the light outside her flat was of a very tender yellow that seemed perfect for the occasion. Everything was in place but I wasn't prepare for what was to follow. Because the door to her flat was sitting at the top of two narrow stairs, I had to wait a meter away form the door my eyes at the door's handle height. Estelle opened the door swiftly and joyfully said "Hi F., I knew you'd come on time.". I immediately lost my smile as my jaw dropped. Right in front of my eyes I had the longest, strongest, smoothest legs you could imagine. She was wearing a white mini-skirt that barely hid anything and that was floating around her hips. Starting from her thin ankle, her legs were slender and smooth until inhuman calves, pushed up by her black leather high heel shoes, made giant protrusions on either side. Her knee caps were surrounded by deep muscle bulges leading to thighs the size of tree trunks and of prodigious length. Her quadriceps starting to bulge just above her knees, followed a gracious yet unbelievable curve to disappear under her skirt. As a testimony of her size, although Estelle had her legs slightly apart, her inner thighs were touching well below her skirt line. I don't know exactly what she thought during the long seconds I could not keep my eyes off her legs but when I managed to recompose myself, climb up to her level and offer her the flowers she accepted them as if she hadn't notice anything. She looked very pleased and kissed me on the cheek. She went to the kitchen to put the flowers in a vase. She was talking all the way along but once more, I had lost contact with reality. All I could see, was Estelle enormous and erotic body barely covered by her dress. What I previously mistook for a mini-skirt was in fact a one piece linen dress; it was incredibly light and kept on drifting with every movement. Her splendid shoulders were naked and the linen covered her immense breast like a veil letting each one swing with grace as she moved around. Her back was almost totally naked and only her round, firm and womanly ass had the privilege of being caress by the fabric. It was the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my life. Estelle power was simply oozing out of every opening and it seemed that all I had to do was to untie the small black leather belt she had strapped around her tiny waist to unwrap his gift of destiny. She came back from the kitchen with two large glasses of scotch. She gave me one and said "To F., my favourite squash coach." and gulped down the whole glass: "God I love scotch.". I could not drink, I could not move, I could not speak. Estelle went for a second glass and came back to me. "F., you should sit yourself down, relax and drink a little otherwise you will explode in your pants and that wouldn't be much fun for me.". God, she couldn't have been more spot on.I will let you guess who was in control by then. "You know, I don't want to boast but I realise the effect I have on men. Either, they find me completely repulsive - and that's fine by me - or they get entranced like you F.. All I want is to please you and myself. Let's not spoil this.". "You're right, Estelle, but what can I do?". "Hmm," she said, "you're probably right. Maybe we need some drastic measures.". She pulled me in her room in front of a large mirror. "Don't panic, this will be fun and will relieve some tension here.". She removed my shirt, caressing my pecs along the way, undid my pants, removed my shoes and socks and finally release my penis from its jail. It stood erect between me and her throbbing with excitement. "It is beautiful, F.. It large and strong and it curves gracefully.". Running a finger along its length, she then got up and went behind me; we were both facing the mirror. With one hand on my chest she pulled me against her while grabbing my member with the other. She was whispering in my ear "Let yourself go; I will please you even more later on.". She was masturbating me, like I've never been before. Looking down at myself I could see her large hand - bigger than mine - stoking my large red member. I was about to come, when from behind she reached for my mouth, pushing violently her tongue into it and beating my penis with such a strength that I released an insane amount of semen on the mirror, on her hand and myself. When she released me, my body was still trembling and she was speaking from behind to my image in the mirror. With her high heels on, she was noticeably taller than me. "You see F., you seem more relax now.". I could not help but laugh. "Here you go, F." she said as she picked me up and through me on the bed like a baby. "Nice bed, Estelle. I like futons.". She gave me a sexy glance and said "Well, they are the only ones that can stand the heat...". Considering her size I could only aknowledge. "Ok, go clean up yourself and we'll have diner now.". Estelle was right. I was much more relax now. Not that her body was less attractive, but at least I could look at her without loosing my mind. I had a quick shower, dressed up and went back to the living room to finish my scotch. Estelle was sitting in a large arm chair. I sat opposite to her in the sofa and we chatted for a while. She spoke a lot about her friend Juliette and their adventures and in particular about an incident at the bowling club the preceding night. I those days, I had never met Juliette; now, she's part of my life the same way Estelle is. I do not kid myself: I never was nor never will be the only man in Estelle life. Her sexuality is far to important to be satisfied by one man. I, instead, count myself lucky to be part of these two girl's life. I use the term girls rather than women as these two are living without any responsibilities whatsoever. I don't know how Estelle manages financially but she seems never to run out of money and she rarely accepts me paying for her under any circumstances. But let's come back to this first evening. Estelle diner was simply marvellous. She had prepared 'Tournedos Rossini' perhaps guessing from my accent that this would be appropriate. This giant sex machine was also a first class chef. On the table stood an abundance of empty plates, glasses and bottles. In fact, we had drunk a fair amount of wine and we were in the process of polishing up my Australian bottle of Shiraz. Estelle was laughing a lot and seemed completely relax. Suddenly, when Estelle threw her head back in a fit of laughter, I look down at her impossibly deep cleavage and the masturbation session came back to my mind. I could feel myself growing stiffer and stiffer. Obviously, she was a bit tipsy. She was now looking deep into my eyes and gave me the most sexually loaded look I've ever seen. Then again, I was in deep trouble. She got up, when to the kitchen to fetch up some after dinner liqueur. In doing so, she leaned over the counter to reach on an upper shelf. It is difficult to describe the effect of Estelle muscles have on me. When she stretched, ond got on tip toes, her legs transformed completely. Her calves where majestic heart shape balls of female power; her long, smooth thighs blew up to a size unknown to any male of female bodybuilder. Her very short dress dragged up by her movement exposed completely her perfectly round ass sitting on her gigantic thighs. My penis was aching under the tension. When she came back with two glasses and a bottle of Armagnac, I knew the time had come to skip the digestifs. I got up, not trying to hide my morphological transformation, and got behind her. I put my hands on her magnificent shoulders feeling their strength and their warmth. Running my hands from her neck to the shoulders edge, Estelle felt like she was made of marble. Under the pressure, her muscles would give way to reach a point were they felt like rock. Going further down, her arms were so big that, with my eyes closed, they could easily have been the thighs of any other girls I have known before. Estelle slightly flexed her biceps for my pleasure. Their roundness was unreal. I slid the shoulder of her dress down along her arms; Estelle helped me a little and in a few seconds, I freed her immense chest from its linen veil. While kissing her in the neck, I unbuckled my trousers and drop them together with my underwear. My giant erection pop out with the enthusiasm of a convict recovering freedom after too many years in jail. It was huge, hot and vibrating. I pushed it against Estelle back, running my penis up and down her spine, who reacted by raising an arm to reach my head while I was licking her earlobes. Estelle was breathing faster now. I realised that, by reaching for my neck with her hand, her gigantic biceps was next to my mouth. Turning my head away from her ear, I started to lick, bite and suck onto this mass of pure strength while I was rubbing hard on her large, stiff, ebony-like nipples. Estelle at this stage was moaning. With her free hand she had reached for her sex and was pleasing herself as much as she was pleasing me by getting so excited. My body was on fire. I could not think of anything else but to please this enormous woman. As her excitement built up, I could see and feel her body tensing. Her grip on my neck was now so strong that I had given up on any hope of getting loose. Her biceps, shoulder and arm were now like a vise around my head that was getting tighter and tighter. I was now running my hands along her triceps feeling their extraordinary definition and volume. Doing that seemed to excite Estelle even more. "Come Estelle, let yourself explode." I said, reaching once more for her breast. When Estelle orgasmed, she release my head and grab the table with both hands, pushing her chest forward and tilting her head back, I had the most incredible view of her gigantic body from over her shoulder. Her chest was now so open that I could not reached her nipples anymore and I had to settle for caressing her incredible lats that made her twice a large as me. Estelle was trembling under the shock of her orgasm. The feeling of domination that I had was incredibly satisfying and empowering. I felt as if this physically superior being was under my emotional control and that, somehow, she would now depend on my presence for her completeness. Estelle suddenly turned around with fire in her eyes. "This was very good, F.. I'm sure you've got more coming, though.". She then looked at my raging erection: "It's even more impressive than before dinner, F.. Let me enjoy it for a minute.". She then cup my testicles with one hand, grab my penis with her strong hand at the base and engulfed the tip in her mouth. Large beads of sweat were running on my temples and forehead as Estelle was sucking on me like if her life depended on it. Of course, after only a few second of such a treatment, I was about to come: "Estelle, please don't stop now." I said with a quivering voice. But Estelle knew better, with one hand, she grabbed my thigh just above the knee and clamped on it so hard that a sharp pain flashed from my leg up my spine making me move back from her. She got up and, looking down at me from the top of her high heel shoes, said "I want to feel you inside of me, F.. Come.". She grab me by the hand and pulled me into the bedroom. When we reached the bed, I surprised her and pushed her face down on the bed. "What are you doing, F.? Surprising me?" she said. I put one hand on her incredible back pushing with all my weight to make her understand I wanted to stay as she was. Of course, had she wanted to get up... I was now looking down at her herculean body. Still pressing down on her upper back, I ran my hand along her prodigious legs feeling their power, hardness and volume. Her ass had an incredible feminity but yet didn't carry a single gram of fat. Her big large cheeks were like carved out of rock and ever changing striations were animating their surface as Estelle was rocking her hips to give herself pleasure. I pried open her massive thighs with one hand and only then realised that each on them was larger than her waist. Even with her knees well apart now her inner thighs were still touching. Their sheer size made my erection grow stronger. Estelle, like at cat in heat, had raised her ass by standing on her knees and arching her back. She had stretch her arms to grab both sides of the bed and the muscle in her arms were so big that I though for a minute that she would simply crush the bed under her grip. She then said "Take me now, F., now!". I could not resist any longer and plunge my huge erection into her hot sex and started to thrust into her as hard as I could. As Estelle was approaching inexorably another orgasm, she was tensing more and more her body. Her back was unbelievable now. I was almost horrifying. Starting from a tiny waste, the "V" it formed was totally inhuman; her lats had grown out of human proportion and their thickness was such that grabbing them was like grabbing a basketball. Under my violent thrusts, Estelle was moaning. I was totally hypnotised by her body and totally consumed by my sexual desire. Estelle was now orgasming wildly below me and I the last second before I came, I had to feel her thighs once more. The prodigious volume of the bulge on both sides of her thighs was such a turn on that I unloaded disorderly into her. Estelle was slowly coming back to her senses while, totally exhausted, I had stop my thrusts and tried to catch my breath back. Estelle let herself fall on one side and look at me with the most rewarding smile I ever had in my life. She reached and pulled me onto her chest and we kissed for long minutes while she was caressing my butt. The smell of sex on her was overwhelming and the hardness of her muscle soon gave me back a raging erection. This time it was painful as well as exciting. "Relax, F., there is no hurry. I'll extract every drop of juice out of you later on tonight. But for the moment let me hear your charming foreign accent.". You now know how I have met Estelle. My life has changed tremendously since then. Through her thirst for life and her determination to make the best out of every minute spent alive, she transformed me and my expectations. Life made me this incredible gift: she is everything I desired and much more in many respects. The moments I spend with Estelle - and sometimes with Juliette - are the highlights of my life now. "There's no sunshine when she's gone and when she's gone, she's always gone too long.". Do you know the song?