A tall, musclebound, amazon of a woman

You hold your breath, heart thundering in your chest as you peer through the edge of the gloryhole, catching a glimpse of her. An enormous tan-skinnned woman—easily over six feet tall with shoulders broad enough to fill the stall. If she wanted to she could peer over the divider and see the trembling mess on the other side. Her muscles are sharply defined beneath the thin sweat-soaked tank top that clings to her body, barely holding together under the expanse of her chest. Her thighs are thick, corded with muscle, her shorts riding up when she shifts her weight, her ridiculously massive bulge threating to pop free of its confines.

A faint sheen of sweat glistens on her skin, catching the dim light, you can almost feel the heat radiating off her, the air thick with the scent of it. Her humid musk fills the air, rich and heady, tinged with salt. It’s intoxicating, rich and potent as it seeps into your senses, clouding your thoughts. You can practically taste her workout.

She huffs, a low almost growling sound and then the rustle of clothes. You swallow hard, pulse quickening as anticipation fills your gut. This is it. This what you came for. Isn't it?

She slides her cock through the hole without a moment's hesitation. It hangs there—thick, heavy, and already hardening, arrogantly so, full of pride for her size. The scent hits you first, _potent _and raw, an earthy quality to it, primal, stirring something deep inside you. Her cock is an intimidating size, her girth terrifying as it sways beside your cheek, fully hard and pulsing with life. Solid veins snakes along her impressive length, visibly bulging and pulsing beneath the skin, throbbing in sync with her heartbeat. Thick and unruly dark curls of hair surround the base of her cock, dense and wild, matted slightly from the sweat dripping down her toned abs. The wiry bush only adding to the feral, untamed aura she exudes. You don't even realise you're holding your breath as you take it all in, face burning hot with excitement and nerves all at once.

Her fingers drum against the wall impatintly, the air heavy with her dominating presence in the tiny space. It's clear she must have done this before, countless times more than likely judging by her confidence. But this is a first for you, at least. Your mouth goes dry. Her cock twitches impatiently. You can't tear your eyes away. A shiver races down your spine.

You almost manage to pull yourself together, almost regain some of that lost composure you thought you had. Almost reach out and touch that magnicificent pillar of cock swaying before your eyes. Almost.

Her voice cuts through the air, loud and powerful even without much effort being put into it and full of authority. “You gonna keep staring, or are you gonna get to work?” Her tone is rough, tinged with impatience, but there’s a calmness to it—a steadiness that tells you she’s in control.

“I can feel your breath on me,” she murmurs, her cock twitching as if to emphasize her point, a lazy display of dominance. “You’re nervous, aren’t you? That’s cute.” There’s the slightest hint of amusement in her voice, but it’s overshadowed by the unspoken demand beneath her words, fingers drumming against the stall again.

Her abs flex as she shifts her weight, droplets of sweat tracing a path down the well defined ridges of her glistening sun-kissed abs, golden hue of her body contrsating against the gleaming moisture as the drops disappear into the utamed mess of pubic hair. Her sweat, her scent, sharp and salty, heady enough to make your vision blur, intensifying with every breath, the taste of her musk already potent on your tongue.

“Well? Don’t be shy. Start with my balls. Get them nice and clean.” Her words are blunt, but the way she says it—it’s not cruel or mocking. It’s just… a fact. An expectation. Like she’s speaking of something mundane as her morning coffee.