Hi, my name is Anne, and this story is a continuation of my shenanigans with my best friend Sally with a pair of panty-wetting Southern muscle studs. This is a prequel to "A Business Trip To Atlanta Turns Into A Group Bang" and "Las Vegas Day Club Bachelorette Trip."

When I left off, it was just after dinner, and I had finished helping clean up the dishes and put away the leftovers at Greg's house outside Atlanta. Now, I was bent over the kitchen island counter.

At 5'4" and with five-inch heels, I was standing tall. Greg had already stripped off my dress. My Rhinestone chandelier clasp g-string was pushed to the side of my perfectly tanned, pear-shaped ass. I still had one wrist cuffed to a drawer with kitchen utensils that banged gently open and shut as I luxuriated in the power of Greg's 6'5" frame and 270 pounds of muscle. His massive 28-inch thighs smacked against my ass. His big paws blanketed my round, firm 34C tits, teasing my erect nipples as if he were trying to milk them.

Greg's girlfriend, Jenny, had her tongue in my ear and fingernails reaching back, digging into Greg's flexing eight-pack. Jenny's sister Alexis was somewhere underneath us, tonguing Greg's shaft as it slipped in and out of my cunt and slapping Greg's pavement-hard ass in encouragement.

My friend Sally was somewhere else in the house fucking Dan and his wife, Maria.

Between my pulsing cunt milking Greg's cock and the two sisters fondling this big stud's abs, ass, and balls, Greg's dick felt like a thick steel rod. It was so hard and erect that it lifted me onto my tippy toes with each thrust. As I took her fingers back from my dripping box to taste my own wetness, I was suddenly thinking of a hot sunny day six years earlier, as Sally and I were rollerblading along South Beach.

Having moved to Miami for college, I was a freshman and Sally a sophomore. We were clad in thong boy shorts, me in hot pink and Sally in electric yellow, bikini tops that left little coverage, providing a clear silhouette of our recent nipple piercings pressed against the taut fabric. We were head turners, our tanned, toned bodies, boobs bouncing, and belly rings dangling from our navels, as we bladed down the pathway for pedestrians and bicyclists that separates the beach part of Miami Beach from all the condos and hotels.

As we came down to the area on Ocean Drive where the Versace mansion is located, which opens up to a park, we noticed an outdoor gym. It's known as Miami Muscle Beach Gym.

Neither Sally nor I had a particular type of guy when it came to dating. At 19 and 21, we had each had only a few puppy love relationships. However, going to college in Miami enables you to go full adult on arrival. Sally dated the backup quarterback on the UM football team her first year, and then had hookups while clubbing. Still, she also dated a graduate assistant in the business school whose father was the CEO of a large company.

I was definitely attracted to juiceheads, although I had never dated or slept with one. I was particularly attracted to the super heavyweight bodybuilders. I enjoyed the big muscles. When I was masturbating, if I had a man in mind, it would definitely be in the heavyweight category. Jay Cutler was my dream fuck.

However, here in Miami, there were plenty of big, muscular men to admire, their bodies glistening in the Florida heat as they exercised, the way they filled out their cut suits, walking in Brickell, or in a tight black t-shirt at the clubs. My high school boyfriend played soccer and lacrosse. He was lean and hot, but not like these superhuman beasts.

Now, as we took off their blades to check out the beach gym, I was immediately drawn to an area where four very big bodybuilders were doing dumbbell and barbell curls. I noticed they were truly pumping iron, heavy weights that made their veins bulge. We walked over to the area and picked up some light weights.

After about twenty minutes, Sally had to go, so she walked back to the pathway, put on her blades, and headed back to their apartment. Now alone, I did a few more exercises and decided to head out. These guys were serious bodybuilders. They hadn't approached me as much as I'd hoped, and I didn't want to interrupt their workout. My experience was that bodybuilders don't go to the gym to pick up girls (for the most part). They go to the gym to train.

Not thinking, I put on her rollerblades in the sand and started walking towards the path. Immediately, I twisted her ankle, falling into the hot sand and curling up in pain. As suddenly as I fell, I was in the shade, in that moment, looking up to see one of the bodybuilders. In what I made to be an Australian accent, the bodybuilder asked, "Can I help you?" while, in the same motion, putting his beefy paws gently on my waist and lifting me onto my still-wobbly feet as if I was a feather.

This man was gorgeous. He was shorter than my typical type, probably 5'8", because in my blades, I was about an inch or two taller than he was. I never liked guys shorter than me in heels, but with this beefcake, I found it to be an unexpected turn-on.

His arms were bigger than my legs - by a lot. As his biceps flexed, holding me up, I gauged them to be almost as big as my 22-inch waist. He also looked to be well into his thirties, maybe even forties, with short black hair, a clean-cut, sparkling blue-eyed boyish face, and, most of all, a chest that looked like two square end tables pushed together.

I was now partially covered in sand, coating half of my body where I had fallen, while the other side was clearly that of a shapely woman. I quickly noticed my left nipple was exposed, revealing my piercing. The bodybuilder, noticing it too, gingerly covered my nipple back up in a second act of chivalry.

As this massive stud of a man held me steady, I began apologizing about how stupid I was to put on my blades in the sand. Now the bodybuilder stopped me by saying, "No worries, happy to help. My name is Joe, by the way, and happy you fell, otherwise we wouldn't have met."

As I introduced myself, I felt a tingle between my thighs. Sometimes I still think about myself as a high school girl alongside the boys, and here was this alpha stud man who, in Miami, had the pick of the litter, giving me a line.

I told Joe that if I had known falling was the best way to get his attention, I would have done it when she got there, making us both chuckle and extending beyond a purely physical connection. Joe told me, "I'd better get your number in case you have another fall," and we quickly confirmed the numbers with some innocuous text emojis.

I told Joe I now needed to shower off the sand. Could he help me over to the main pedestrian and bike path so I could take off my roller blades and head to the outdoor shower that beachgoers use to clean up? Joe told me that there was a different shower. It was hidden among the high plants and bushes separating the beach gym from the actual beach. He said it was rarely used, so it would give me a bit more privacy while I cleaned up.

I nodded in agreement, and with that, Joe picked me up in the way a groom carries his bride across the threshold. As he navigated past a broken fence to a small path that cut through growth high enough to cast a shadow, Joe walked at an angle so my roller blades wouldn't get caught in the growth.

Feeling the side of my body against his muscular torso was getting me wet. I let the hand I had on Joe's back to provide support now wander up to the back of his thick neck. My long purple fingernails grazed his skin so slightly in a way I hoped would let Joe know he had permission to make his move. Simultaneously, I felt as Joe's left arm moved downward from my waist so that his big paw was firmly cupped on my ass, his fingers giving a gentle tug to my thong shorts. It reminded me of the way my high school boyfriend would tug on my panties as we were making out.

As we emerged into a small area with a wooden platform and a shower, Joe put me down. I was now standing tall, still in my roller blades, facing this massive hulk.

His body was so much wider than mine, and as I attempted to steady myself, I felt Joe's fully erect penis against my inner thigh. Looking down, I saw his hard, girthy cock had popped out of his shorts and was glistening, sliding against our in their mutual sweat. It was simply too good to pass up.

Before Joe could take a step back, with my free hand, I grabbed his dick and began stroking it as Joe pulled the chain for the shower, sprinkling us with warm water. I reached with my other hand, digging my long fingernails into his chest, the way a mountain climber clings to a rock formation. We were now making out in a slow rhythm, feeling his lips and tongue teasing my mouth, all under the hot midday sun, yards away from beachgoers on one side and the gym on the other.

Now I found out why I was attracted to muscle men. Joe took me by the waist and turned me upside down. With his shorts now down at his ankles, Joe's substantial rod, I figured at least eight inches, was in my face. I reached around to grab Joe's ass.

Like a pro, I began throating his cock as I felt Joe moving my thong shorts to the side and sliding his tongue along my clit. His tongue moved not in the sloppy way of a high school boy, but as a man who had probably figured out a long time ago that the best way to get a relationship off on the right path is getting a woman's orgasm right out of the box.

Feeling the warm shower drops running down my back as Joe's tongue tip was doing soft figure eights on my clit, I couldn't stop from audibly moaning with pleasure, and then squeezing Joe's head between my legs like a vice as I thrust into a full orgasm. Joe had his arms holding my body firmly in place as I convulsed, while I had one hand on his fully erect dick, the other around his massive thigh.

While most men would have tired from holding a woman upside down for such an extended period, Joe had now brought me to orgasm twice, and I could feel my sopping wet cunt more wet from my juice than the shower.

"Fuck me, please," I told Joe, who now turned me around so my legs were wrapped around his waist, allowing me to guide his cock into my cunt as he lifted me down onto his shaft, slowly and then with enough power to make an audible smack as his pelvis smacked my ass.

Now here I was, this young girl, just a year out of high school, I had my fingers caressing those huge biceps and looking down, seeing the rhythm of Joe's biceps flexing as his cock slid in and out of my cunt. Joe's waxed torso was glistening as I sloppily kissed him, enveloping his tongue and mouth into mine.

From there, Joe had turned me, facing downward to the ground, lifting my legs around his waist, holding me in a wheelbarrow position as I grabbed the shower pole. I had never been power fucked like this. Joe's big hands were holding my entire body up in a way that felt very secure. I was flying like Superwoman.

This wheelbarrow position meant that as Joe plunged his rock-hard cock into my cunt, he was pressing against the walls of her vagina in a way I had never experienced. It was creating multiple orgasms that were faster and more intense than anything I had ever experienced. Joe's grasp on my waist was so firm, I took one hand off the pole to reach between my legs so she could tickle Joe's balls as his cock slid in and out of my cunt in ecstasy of being manhandled by such an alpha stud.

With that, I was back in Georgia, where Greg's bodybuilder frame was pummeling my cunt from behind, the two sisters helping make sure I got the fucking I deserved. "Greg," I commanded, "Lift my legs around your waist and hold me in the air like a wheelbarrow. I want you to rip my cunt open."

To be continued...