This is a preview of a story I wrote and published on DeviantArt. I offer free commissions until July 3. Just DM me and I will make your story next!
Knowing most people would be interested in viewing the full story after reading this one, the link for it is provided below
https://www.deviantart.com/em-bri/art/Thighs-of-Triumph-1206496979
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Mike and Vanessa had been inseparable since their college days, their friendship cemented by a mutual passion for fitness and a knack for playful banter. They were fixtures at the local gym, where Vanessa’s relentless dedication to her workouts turned heads. She glided through her routines with the elegance of a dancer and the raw power of an athlete, her body a masterpiece sculpted by years of discipline. Her thick, muscular thighs and perfectly rounded butt were the stuff of gym legend, hugged tightly by her workout gear, while her lean torso rippled with toned definition. Mike, by contrast, was the laid-back counterpart—fit, sure, but nowhere near Vanessa’s intensity. Yet he couldn’t deny the pull of her presence: the way her confidence lit up the room, the beads of sweat glistening on her skin, her every move exuding a sexy, commanding energy that left him quietly captivated.
One crisp Saturday afternoon, after a brutal session of weights and cardio, they slumped onto a bench, breathless and dripping with sweat. Vanessa’s sports bra clung to her curves, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. She turned to Mike, her green eyes glinting with mischief, and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow with a slow, deliberate motion that drew his gaze.
“Hey, Mike,” she purred, her voice low and teasing, “ever thought about testing your strength against mine? Like, a little mixed wrestling match?”
Mike chuckled, nearly choking on his water. “What, like WWE? I’d look ridiculous in spandex,” he shot back, his eyes dancing with amusement.
Vanessa rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow, her touch lingering just a beat too long. “No, you goof. Just some friendly grappling. I’ve been working on some moves, and I’d love to see if you can keep up.”
The idea hit Mike like a spark—wrestling Vanessa, feeling her strength up close, her body tangled with his in a test of skill. “Okay, I’m in,” he said, grinning. “But we need rules. I’m not letting you snap me in half.”
Her grin widened, predatory and playful. “Deal. No strikes, just submissions. Tap out or say ‘stop’ if you’re done. My place tomorrow—living room’s got plenty of space.”
The next day, Mike stood outside Vanessa’s apartment, his pulse quickening with anticipation. He knocked, and the door swung open to reveal her, a vision of strength and allure. She wore skintight black leggings that molded to her thick thighs like a second skin, every muscle defined yet softened by a feminine grace. Her black sports bra showcased a torso so toned it could’ve been chiseled from marble, her abs a symphony of ridges and valleys. As she turned to lead him inside, Mike’s eyes locked onto her big, firm butt—those leggings left nothing to the imagination, the fabric stretching taut over her curves, her glutes flexing with each confident step. Her dark hair swung in a high ponytail, framing a face with high cheekbones, full lips, and piercing green eyes that sparkled with wit and challenge. She was breathtaking, a blend of power and sexiness that made his head spin.
They cleared her living room, pushing furniture aside to create a makeshift mat on the plush rug. Vanessa stretched, her movements fluid and hypnotic—her thighs flexed, her arms extended, her body a living testament to strength and beauty. Mike couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Ready to lose?” she teased, hands on her hips, her stance radiating dominance.
“Bring it on,” he replied, shaking off the nerves.
She laid out the rules again: no strikes, just grappling, stop on a tap or a word. They circled each other, the air thick with tension.
Vanessa moved first, lunging with precision to grab Mike’s wrist. He countered, wrapping his arms around her waist, but she twisted free, her agility stunning. They grappled, bodies colliding, until she tripped him onto the rug. She straddled him briefly, her weight a thrilling pressure, before he rolled away. They traded holds—Mike snagging her arm, Vanessa slipping out with a sultry laugh. Sweat slicked their skin as they wrestled to a breathless stalemate.
“You’re tougher than you look,” she said, brushing a damp strand of hair from her face, her chest rising and falling.
“Same to you,” Mike panted, grinning. “But I’m just getting started.”
“Good,” she replied, her tone a velvet challenge. “I’ve got more to show you.”
Continuation over at https://www.deviantart.com/em-bri/art/Thighs-of-Triumph-1206496979