The Demolitionist
by Sean Porter

* * * * * * *

It all started with a couch.

I had an old couch in my basement, in pretty bad shape.  It was torn, dilapidated and dirty.  None of the charities would take it, and besides that it was extremely heavy.  I wasn't sure how I would get it out of my basement if anyone did want it.

On a whim I checked the yellow pages for disposal services, and a tiny, unpresumptuous ad caught my eye.

THE DEMOLITIONIST
anything & everything hauled away
$50 flat fee
665-5222

At this point, fifty dollars sounded like a pretty good deal.  I dialed the number.  A woman answered.  "Demolitionist?"  Her voice was high and sweet.

"Um, hi.  I have a couch in my basement I'd like to get rid of."

"No problem.  What's your address?"  I told her.  "I can be there at 8 tomorrow morning?"

"Er, that's great.  Just one thing...I don't know if I'll be able to haul it up to the street for them.  Is it alright if..."

"Don't worry about it," she interrupted.  "As long as you're home, I can come in and get it."

"Great."

"See you tomorrow!"

I hung up, thinking how cute it was that she spoke in the first person, 'I'.  Of course she meant the company.  She was, after all, only a receptionist.

* * * * * * *

The next morning my doorbell rang at 7:59.  I opened the door.  "Uh...can I help you?"  The woman on my front step was the most gorgeous creature I had ever seen.  She had long, luxurious red hair, radiant green eyes, and a dazzling smile.  She wore a tank top and ragged jean shorts, both of which revealed a good deal of tanned, toned skin.  Her legs were long and shapely, her arms slim but defined, and her breasts full but not unusually large.  I felt my knees getting weak.

"I'm here for the couch?" she asked, glancing again at the number on my house.  "Is this the right place?"  I recognized at once the spine-melting voice I had heard over the phone.  So she really had been serious about the 'I'.

"Oh.  Yeah."  I looked over her shoulder, but there was no truck on the street, no workers behind her.  Bewildered, I looked back at her.  "Where's..."

"It's just me," she grinned.  "Can I come in?"  She breezed past me.  "The basement, right?" she called over her shoulder as she headed downstairs.  I recovered my voice as I followed her.

"I'm afraid I wasn't clear on the phone," I stammered.  "It's really heavy, I don't think you and I..." I trailed off.  As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw my couch balanced on her shoulder, supported by her left hand.  'Scuse me," she chirped as she walked past me, back up the stairs, easily supporting the huge piece of furniture.  My jaw nearly hit the floor as I watched her long legs take the stairs two at a time, her arm deftly maneuvering the couch through the narrow stairway.  I followed her back to the front door in a daze.

After sliding out the front door she turned and placed her free hand on her hip.  "Will that be cash or check?"

"Oh," I stammered, "uh, check."  I fumbled for my checkbook.

"You can make it out to The Demolitionist."

"Okay."  I scribbled the check, trying not to sneak too many glances at her gorgeous legs, her tight tank top, or the huge, heavy couch perched precariously on her outstretched left arm.  "But, uh..." I finally managed to gaze nervously into her eyes as I handed her the check.  "What's your name?"

She smiled a heart-stopping smile.  "Katrina.  Thanks!"  She took the check, turned and jogged down the length of my driveway.  She waved as she continued down the street at a brisk pace.  I watched her as long as she remained in view, which wasn't long.  She seemed to accelerate as she went, couch held high over her head.  It was the most bizarre thing I had ever seen.

So far.

* * * * * * *

My next few days were plagued with bouts of intense curiosity.  For hours on end I would replay the incident in my mind.  I laid awake at night wondering if it could have really happened.  Was I only hallucinating?  Delirious?  It wasn't possible.  It couldn't be.

After about a week of sleepless nights, I went back to the yellow pages.  Yes, the ad was still there.  The Demolitionist.  Without realizing what I was doing, I dialed the number again.

"Demolitionist?"  It was her.

"Oh.  Uh..."  What had I been expecting?  Of course it was her, idiot.

"Hello?"

"Hi.  Uh, Katrina.  It's me...the guy with the couch?  Last week?"

"Oh yes.  What can I do for you?"

Good question.

"I uh, I need to see you again.  I mean, I have...something...I need to get rid of.  Again."

"Great.  I'm free this afternoon if you like?"

* * * * * * *

After hanging up the phone I scrambled through the house, looking for something to give her, anything I could get rid of.  It had to be heavy.  And big.  My head was swimming with the thought of seeing her again.  My bed?  No, I needed that.  The bookcase?  Too nice, she'd never believe I wanted to get rid of it.  I checked the garage.  I had a few boxes full of old books I'd never need.  They were pretty heavy.  The doorbell rang.

She was wearing the same outfit, tank top and jean shorts.  Or was it the same?  The tank top seemed even tighter than before.  And were the shorts...shorter?  They seemed more ragged, threadbare.  "Hi," she said casually, stepping inside.  There was an awkward silence as I stared dumbly.  "So," she finally said, "Mr. Porter, what was it you needed Demolitioned?"  She winked.  I melted.

"In the garage," I stuttered, "here."  I opened the door to the garage and pointed to the boxes.  "Those are all full of books.  They're pretty...uh..." I looked at her.  "Heavy."

"Right," she smiled.

I couldn't help staring as she bent at the waist, piling the four large boxes into a single stack which was taller than she.  Her round glutes bulged out of her shorts as she easily lifted each box.  She caught me ogling, my eyes practically popping out of my head, as she set the last box on top.  A smile crossed her sexy lips.  "Anything else, Mr. Porter?"  She must have remembered my name from the check.

"Please, call me Sean," I replied.  "No, that's it.  For now."

"Okay Sean.  That'll be fifty dollars."  She bent down again and slid her fingers under the stack of boxes, which promptly shot up into the air, balanced one of her perfectly manicured hands.  I placed a check in the other one.  With another mind-scrambling smile, she sauntered away, shifting her load easily from one hand to the other.

That afternoon I made a trip to the bank and withdrew a wad of fresh fifty-dollar bills.

* * * * * * *

I became very adept at coming up with stuff for Katrina to cart away.  I bought a new fridge and had her come get the old one.  Then the stove.  I began to wonder what the neighbors thought of the gorgeous amazon who kept prancing down the street with my stuff.  I installed new carpet throughout my entire house.  I could have sworn I saw Katrina's eyes light up when she saw 12 huge rolls of old carpet lined up along the side of my house.  Each one was 8 feet long and over three feet in diameter, tied with twine.  She stacked them as well as she could, but still had to make two trips.  My curiosity heightened as I watched her sprint away, carrying two rolls with each arm and each hand clutching another by the twine.  She was back in 10 minutes for the other six.  "Where do you take them?" I asked.

"To be Demolitioned, of course," she smiled coyly.  "See you later!"  She seemed particularily eager to get going that time.  She even forgot to collect her payment.

Over time we got to know each other.  Each time we talked I lost some of my shyness, even though her apparel only seemed to get tighter and more revealing.  She was friendly and seemed to like me, and could converse on a range of topics.  At first we talked about the weather, then gradually we moved on to sports, then my work, current events, movies and other things.  But I could never bring myself to broach the subjects I was really interested in.  How strong was she?  How was it possible?  What did she think of me?  Was there any way I could spend time with her without paying $50?  Every time I was about to summon the courage to get personal, she would suddenly drop her eyes and mumble something about getting back to work.

Finally I devised a plan to learn more about her.  Somehow, I needed to tag along with her after she left my house.  I don't know why, but I decided to try to do it without her knowledge.  Something told me she wouldn't let me follow her if she knew.

My plan centered around the fact that my sedan was getting pretty old.  It still ran and I probably could have sold it for a couple thousand, but it was beat up enough that I could conceivably want it junked.  Besides, it was pretty apparent to both of us by now that I wasn't calling her every four days just because I had that much crap to get rid of.

I bought a new(er) vehicle and prepared the old beater for Katrina.  The main adjustment I needed to make was a latch in the trunk which would allow me to open it from the inside.  Fortunately, my first test was successful.  I would have had some explaining to do if I'd had to use my cell phone as my backup plan.  I now used it to call The Demolitionist.

"Hi, Katrina!  Guess what?"

"Hey Sean!  Got more carpet for me?" she asked eagerly.

"Better yet.  I got a new car!"

"Congratulations!  And you're junking the old one?"

"Yup.  It's not worth much anymore."

"I'll be there in a jiff."

"Alright...that's fine.  But..." I paused.

"What is it?"

"I've got a meeting in a few minutes...in fact, I'm just out the door now."

"Oh."  She sounded disappointed, which I took as a good sign.  "Well, we can do it another time..."

"No, no."  I did my best to sound indifferent.  "I'd really like to get rid of it.  I'll leave the money in the glove box.  We'll catch up another time."  I bit my lip, hoping she'd buy it.

After a pause, she replied.  "Alright, fine with me.  Have a good meeting."

"What?  Oh.  Right."

I drove my new car around the corner and jogged back to the old one.  "Here goes nothing," I said to myself as I jumped in the trunk and pulled it shut.

It was dark.  And quiet.  And boring.  I wondered how long she would take.  On some occasions she had been at my house less than 20 minutes after I spoke to her.  I got the impression she didn't have too many other customers.

Time passed, but I don't know how much because I couldn't see my watch.  I should have grabbed some water.  Maybe a flashlight and something to read.  I thought about popping the trunk and running into the house, but the risk was too great.  She couldn't know I was here.  I had, after all, only one car to junk.  There were no second chances.

In a few moments I heard the car's front door open.  She was checking the glove box.  Then the door shut and I felt the car's front end rise from the ground as if it had been jerked by a crane.  Then my end came up too, and the car was level again, although swaying slightly.  She could, of course, have driven the car away, but I hadn't expected it.  She enjoyed her work too much.

"Well, this'll have to do," I heard her say beneath me.  She didn't sound happy.  "As least it's a big one."  I pondered this.  Have to do for what?

I could feel us moving, but the motion was slight.  I knew she could move pretty quickly, even carrying this metal monster, but she didn't seem in a hurry this time.  However, it couldn't have been more than 10 minutes later that the car abruptly crashed to the ground.  I was so jolted that I let out a shout.  Thankfully, the noise of the car covered it.

Now it came to it.  Should I get out?  What would happen next?  I certainly didn't want to be "Demolitioned" with the car.  I listened for machinery.  Total silence.  I decided I was safe until I heard Katrina or someone else doing something.  I waited a couple moments.  Then I heard a strange noise.  Metal creaking?  Crumpling?  I felt no motion - wait, did the car just move forward?  If the car was being crushed, why was there no noise of machinery?  Why was the trunk not being crushed along with everything else?  I decided not to wait for the answers.  It was time to move.  I pushed the release lever.

And nothing happened.

The car jerked forward again.  I jiggled the apparatus frantically.  The trunk wouldn't budge.  The crumpling noise was getting louder.  Even if I screamed, would I be heard?

Suddenly the back end of the car rose violently into the air.  The trunk was still completely undamaged, but I could hear the sickening groan of the car's front end being pulverized below me.  'This crusher must work from one end to the other' I realized in a flood of panic.  'And my end is next up!'  I screamed at the top of my lungs and banged on the hood of the trunk.  But over my screaming (and the screaming of the car) I heard another scream, a female one, drowning out my own.  It sounded like pleasure and pain multiplied by each other.

The sides of the trunk bent in.  The lower half of my prison was crumpling like a paper bag.  Suddenly the lid of the trunk twisted and popped off.  I was looking up at clear blue sky.  In a flash I dove out and hit the ground hard, rolling away from the wreckage.

After recovering my breath, I opened my eyes and lost it again.  My car looked like a giant pipe cleaner, compressed and twisted into a thin pole jutting awkwardly into the air.  Below it, flat on her back on the ground, lay Katrina.  She was completely naked and covered in sweat and dirt.  Her eyes were closed, her lips open, still emitting an erotic wail.  She was completely oblivious to my presence.  Her hands clutched the remains of my car, one end of which was firmly implanted between her glistening thighs.

I slowly stood up and backed away, unable to tear my eyes from the spectacle.  Her blazing red hair was drenched and plastered to her face and shoulders.  Her breasts, much larger than I remembered them, protruded vertically from her chest.  Every muscle on her arms and legs was clenched into sharp relief as her body spasmed wildly.  Her long legs randomly kicked, jerked, dug into the ground, and lifted high into the air as she frantically pleasured herself with the wreckage.  And as I watched in wonder, I realized the length of twisted metal was getting shorter.  Steam was rising from between her legs, and I saw the iron glowing white hot as it was being thrust in and out of her.  Her vagina was actually vaporizing my car.

As I was recovering from the initial shock of this sight, I realized that we appeared to be miles from nowhere.  I live in an urban area, and I would have thought one would need to drive for at least an hour to reach such a deserted, undeveloped area as the one that spread out as far as the eye could see in every direction.  Yet we had traveled only about 10 minutes, and on foot.  But as I turned my eyes back to the writhing amazon, I began to realize that she had probably accomplished this feat just as easily as she had turned my automobile into a giant dildo.

I continued to watch as she quickly used up the rest of the car.  The huge length of metal appeared to penetrate further and deeper into her, although in reality it was obviously being destroyed.  It suddenly dawned on me that I was now seeing what she had meant by the verb 'Demolitioned.'  Recalling the light in her eyes when she had seen the huge rolls of carpet, I shuddered with awe and lust.

There was now only a foot of crushed iron left.  With a final, powerful thrust, she jammed the glowing metal deep into her, giving a loud, sighing groan of pleasure.  Steaming juices flooded out of her pussy, dissolving the earth beneath her.  Her hands, now free, wandered up her rippling abdomen to her heaving breasts and squeezed.  She was probably capable of crushing bowling balls to powder, but her muscular mammaries, of similar size, barely yielded.  An earth-shaking roar now emerged from her throat as her entire body exploded in orgasmic undulation.

It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen.

As the dust settled and the echoes died away, I stirred uncomfortably.  This was due partly to my urgently throbbing erection, but mostly to the fact that Katrina would probably be coming around soon.  I wasn't sure what she'd think of the stowing away, but I could guess how she'd feel about my gawking at her demolitionary tactics.  I looked around, but there was nowhere to hide.

A contented smile was slowly spreading across her lips, and seemed to continue spreading all throughout her magnificent body.  She slowly opened her eyes, staring into the sky.  She spoke one word.

"Wow."

Funny, I was thinking the same thing.

She gracefully rose to a standing position, carefully stepping over the crater which had been created between her knees.  She casually brushed some dirt off her backside, a futile gesture.  Her entire body was caked with sweaty earth.  As she turned to inspect her other flank, it happened.  Our eyes met.

A tidal wave of emotions collided on her face; fear, anger, betrayal.  "Oh my God -- Sean!" she gasped.  Instinctively, her arms moved to cover her top, then bottom.  "How did you--where--"

I was almost too mortified to reply.  Staring at the ground, I mumbled, "I was...in the trunk."  I found the breath to add, "I'm sorry."

She turned away.  "Oh God.  I'm so..."  I waited, expecting the worst.  Furious?  Disgusted?  "...embarrassed."

I was sure I'd heard her wrong.  "Em...embarrassed?" I repeated in disbelief.  She sat down in the dirt, her back to me, about twenty feet away.  Silence.  "Katrina?  Did you really just say you were embarrassed?"

"Of course," she choked.  She was crying.

"Katrina."  I struggled to find the words.  "What do you have to be embarrassed about?  I...I'm really sorry I tricked you, but...what you just did...it was...incredible.  You are the most...amazing woman...ever!"

She lifted her head and glanced over her shoulder at me, but said nothing.

Swallowing nervously, I continued.  "What I just saw...what you can do...that was so powerful and so sexy...how can you be embarrassed about it when...I mean, that was the most incredible thing I've ever seen!"

She glared at me.  "Sexy?"

"I - I didn't mean - I'm sorry," I stammered.  "That was inappropriate--"  My face turned bright red.

"No," she said, "tell me."  Her expression softened.  "Did you mean that?  Sexy?"

If possible, I got even redder.  I stared at her in disbelief.  "Of - of course."  Seeing a smile begin to form on her lips, I realized that she wasn't offended by what I was saying...she was relieved.  I felt relief flooding through my own body as well, and with it came the words I had been afraid to say.  "Impossibly sexy - sexier than anything I've ever imagined!  Katrina, your strength...you must have realized it before now, how much it turned me on!"

"I did...I did."  She nodded.  "But I thought if you saw how strong I really was...Sean, I'm a freak!" she burst out in frustration.

I shook my head slowly.  "You're not a freak.  You're a beautiful woman.  Katrina, no man could see what I just saw and not be totally, hopelessly in love with you."  It was cheesy, but it was the simple truth.

She stood up and walked toward me, no longer covering her nakedness.  Her face was deadly serious.  She didn't stop until she stood directly in front of me, her face inches from mine, her nipples almost touching my chest, her glassy green eyes gazing unabashedly at me.  "Sean," she whispered, "do you mean that?  Do you...love me?"

"Yes," I replied immediately.  It was the easiest question I had ever been asked.

"I love you too," she smiled.

"You...you do?"

"Yes.  I have for a long time, maybe even since the second time I saw you."

"The second time?"

She laughed.  "When you called me about those books?  I could see it in your eyes...all you really wanted was to see me again."

I joined in laughing with her.

"It was so sweet," she continued, "and you were so nice.  Not to mention cute."  She moved even closer to me.  Her nipples brushed against my shirt.  I kissed her.

She responded, pressing hard against me, her tongue in my mouth.  The tongue is the strongest muscle in the human body, and hers was no exception.  I felt my pants becoming uncomfortably tight.  After a couple minutes we separated.  "I'm sorry," she whispered.  "I forgot I was naked.  And you're fully clothed."

"Yeah...um.  I guess you should do something about that...if you want," I replied, trying to hide my disappointment.  I wanted to remember forever how her body looked that day, dirty and sweaty in the hot sun.

"I will," she laughed.  "I'll fix that right now."  I looked around for her clothes, but suddenly her hands were on me and my shirt was torn to shreds.  She licked her lips, and before I could blink my pants had ripped apart like toilet paper.  My erection strained against my boxer shorts, and she ran a finger along it.  "Mmmm," she moaned, dropping to her knees.  Her teeth gently pulled at my waistband, then cut right through it.  The shorts dropped around my ankles as her powerful mouth enveloped my dick.

If you have never had a blow job from a mouth which is capable of compressing coal to diamond, it is difficult to describe.  The entire length of my penis was enveloped in firm, hot, moist pressure.  At first it was gentle, soothing, and affectionate.  I closed my eyes as her lips slid slowly back and forth over my shaft.  Gradually, she increased her pace.  Her hands wandered up and down my legs and rear end.  The pressure on my head was increasing tremendously.  I felt her incredible tongue sliding around, over and under every part of my manhood with powerful force.

Suddenly, her arms locked around my legs like iron vises, and she swiftly stood up to her full height.  I rose into the air so fast, I felt like a helium balloon.  She took no notice of my suprised flailings; her arms held me fast and her mouth only sucked harder and faster on my cock.  The sensation was so far beyond any sexual pleasure I had ever experienced or imagined, it actually felt like my penis was growing larger.  It wasn't that I was small to begin with, I liked to think of myself as slightly above average.  But as she again doubled the force which surrounded my entire organ, I felt it swelling, as if she was pumping even more blood into it.  It now reached deep into her throat, but this didn't seem to bother her.  She looked up into my widening eyes as her amazing tongue did its work, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a mischievous smile.  Slowly, gently, she slid the length of my shaft out of her mouth.  She easily held my weight out in front of her, at arms length, and admired my throbbing organ.  It was certainly larger and thicker than I had ever seen it.

"Not bad," she remarked as she shifted my weight.  "Let's put that monster to better use!"  She gracefully manouevered me under her as her legs slid outward in opposite directions.  I found myself lying comfortably on the ground, one of her hands on my ass and the other behind my head, as  she hovered above me, smiling sexily, her hard round breasts quivering before my face, a long, curvaceous leg stretched out on either side in a perfect splits.  Only her lovely toes touched the ground, supporting her as she positioned her sopping pussy over the tip of my shaft.  The combination of sheer power and sex appeal was mind-numbing.

"Katrina," I moaned, "you're so incredible!"

"I was just about to say the same thing," she breathed, "about you."  And with infinite grace, she lowered herself smoothly on to me.

The pleasure was beyond belief.  Her pussy was much hotter than mere body temperature; it felt like a sauna or jacuzzi heated to the maximum bearable temperature.  Her juices were thick and smooth, like oil, and flowed like a fountain.  And her vaginal muscles were obviously as powerful as any others in her body.  The pressure was even greater and more constant than what her mouth had offered; as she pumped herself rapidly up and down on me (using her extended legs) I felt myself being pulled up with her.  Only her copious fluids prevented my organ from being trapped in her vaginal vise.

I was overcome by pleasure almost instantly.  As I came harder than I ever had, she moaned loudly and pumped even harder and faster.  Her incredible body gyrated wildly on mine, pouring sweat and juices and throbbing with muscle.  "Oh my GOD!!!" she shrieked as her fists plowed into the hard ground on either side of my head.  She buried her arms up to the elbows as her breasts surrounded my face.  They were smooth as silk, but hard as rocks.  She was lost in orgasm, pumping up and down on my shaft with inhuman speed, churning the dirt beneath us to powder.  My orgasm kept coming, growing more powerful instead of abating.  I realized that she would keep me hard inside her as long as she wanted; the combination of her stunningly sexy body and her sensationally strong vagina would be more than enough to keep my hormones pumping for hours.

Her own raptures were decreasing, however.  Gradually her eyes refocused on mine; her wild thrashing ceased and she settled gently on my chest, her large breasts easily supporting her weight without any alteration to their perfect shape.  I was still hard, deep inside her, and I could feel her powerful pussy pulsating playfully around my shaft.

"Mmmmm," she moaned softly.  "Sean."  I held her tenderly, kissing her soft cheek and staring into the clear blue sky.  "That was wonderful," she mumbled into my neck.

* * * * * * *

I don't need to pay for Katrina's services anymore.  We see each other almost every day, and she still Demolitions things for me, but now it's exclusively for our mutual pleasure, without the pretense of money.  She even brings me along when she gets other jobs.  Perhaps it takes away some of the shock for the customer, to see a man show up along with a muscle goddess.  But there's no hiding the facts once she's trotting away with her load, and me perched on top, enjoying the seventy mile, ten minute ride out to our private getaway spot.  It's a breezy trip, but the goggles help.