Better Than the Movies?

The roaring of the crowd, a deafening primal sort of cheering, fills up the towering lines of stadium seats and make the colosseum shake. They in attendance chant just one name, the name of their champion.

At their calling, a huge minotaurian man enters the arena. He is wearing golden armor, which sags with its immense weight on his shoulders and gleams with the wealth greater than the sum of some nations. His power is evident, as is the fact that he is both feared and beloved.

At the other side of the arena is a large iron gate, that rattles viciously as the beast, kept starving for days in preparation for this fight, is anxious to make mincemeat of this arena veteran.

A human man blows a low horn, and in answer, orc slaves in leather armor begin to pull the lever of a large absurd mechanism, and hoist the thick iron gate open, so that the battle may begin.

As the minotaur champion lets out a rattling bellow, he raises up an axe and stampedes his way to the opposite end of the area, where the ferocious cat-monster waits to strike at him.

The focus of the movie lifts away from the brutal fight sequence as the main character, a small goblin prince then learns that his fate will be to fight that minotaur. As he asks how he could possibly win a fight like that, those who have him in chains simply laugh.

Your attention than turns from the film as you hear your husband also laugh.

James is a giant minotaur himself.

Nearly eight feet tall with hooves so big, and steps so heavy, you needed special floors in a specially made kind of house to contain him. He had a magnificent set of pale ivory tusks and a woolly sort of appearance. His trunk wasn't quite as long as a real mammoths might be, but it was limber and hid his mouth as it would on a real mammoth, and he was sure to give you strange kind of sucking kisses with it.

He was big and scary; this was obvious to everyone.

He downright terrified you at first. James was notoriously strict as a police officer, and even more so when he became the town sheriff. He had a look that followed with a reputation, and you knew it well before you even laid eyes on him.

You were a journalist though, and sometimes it was your job to go to places you'd rather not, and ask very intimidating people questions that they didn't want to answer.

James, nicknamed "The Drought" for being such a hard ass, was more obliging to you than you'd expected, which at first caused you some unease. Then you'd actually spoken to him, and you discovered he was something of a gentleman.

When you'd called him that, he laughed heartily.

If you saw a gentleman in him, he'd said, then you should thank his mother.

You later learned his mother was a human woman, with lots of children both her own and adopted. And while she was certainly eccentric, she surely loved all her children, and her children were very loyal to her in turn. James being one of them.

You found it rather nice that he was so fond of his mother. That was usually a sign of good character in a man.

And, well, somehow, you'd gotten enwrapped in his complex family and enfolded totally into his life, until you shared even a domicile. Funny how life worked?

When he laughs at the movie, you drag your attention from the TV screen push his fleecy leg with your foot to grab his attention.

"And what's so funny?"

He laughs again, and pats your leg, regarding your skin fondly. "I know it's cruel to say, and I'm sure this silly film you've put on will find some justification, but the guards are right. It would take an act of god for that goblin to beat even a minotaur child--neigh not even a halfling would have trouble crushing that tiny creature. Prince or not."

A bubbly bit of laughter leaves you, and you then prod further. "Have you had fantasies of the old world, love? As far as I know, you've never been in a gladiator fight. How can you be sure a goblin couldn't figure out some way to beat you up, huh?"

"I just know." He sounds a bit boastful though.

"I bet you have had some kind of fantasy about it--is that why you wanted to watch this movie?"

"No, you bought it. And you bought this movie. I just thought tonight would be a good time to watch it."

"Durning a harvest moon." You cut in. "When you always feel all burly and excited."

"I do not." He doubles down than sighs with a trumpet sound. "Fine, you've got me. Perhaps when I was a runt, I imagined myself as one of these gladiators--it's not so uncommon a fantasy amongst my kind, I'm sure."

It was a dark time in history, you thought. Full of strife, and slavery. Monsters and monstermen were treated like sub-humans by humanity, or did just as terrible things to humans in turn. But there was a power fantasy in that past which was hard not to admire, now that it was so long ago.

This flitters past your mind, but you just concede and say. "I'm sure it isn't."

But then a delightful thought crosses your mind. You remove your foot from his loving hold and turn around on the pillow. Instead of a normal sofa to sit on, you owned a rather large kind of set in the floor set of massive cushions which the both of you currently lounged on.

When you moved, he paused the movie, doeish eyes looking your way. He had such pretty long lashes; you'd always admired them.

"So, what did you picture?" You coyly prompt. "Being some decorated monster, with twelve women hanging off either arm, and enough food to feed an army whenever you bid it."

"No." He says a bit sheepishly. "I only ever wanted just one woman."

"Aren't you a charmer." You say as you crawl up onto his lap. You walk your fingers up his chest, then loop up to meet his stare. "And what would you want to do with your... just one woman?"

"I would take my victory from her with pleasure." He brays back.

You decide to tease him. "How?"

"Would you like me to show you?"

"I would."

"First I would tear your clothes off." He declares, then uses one of his strong hands to rip your night dress in two. You weren't wearing any underwear under it, so when the silk slip was cast aside, you were totally nude.

"And I'd be tired from fighting, so I'd have to make a decision. That is, how to fuck you." He explains, and his hands than cup your breasts, and run down your sides, feeling up for flesh. "I'd be sore, so I wouldn't mount you from behind, though you know that's my favorite."

"Uh-huh." You egg on.

"So you'd ride me, but I'd still like to see that find ass of yours bounce, so I'd turn you around." And just then he sits up and moves you just so, so that you sit on him reverse cowgirl. His hands grab your ass and squeeze it for good measure, as he continues. "But I'd still control the pace, and take what I wanted from you until the sun rose."

"Don't you want to use me like that?"

"Are you offering your body to me?"

You rub your ass on the growing bulge on his pants. "Well, I have to treat my big champion right, don't I? He deserves a reward every now and then."

He grabs your waist a little tighter. "I do like the sound of that."

"Fuck me, then."

"Say that again."

"Fuck me. And fuck me hard." You add on, bouncing a bit on his lap to get the point home.

That's enough testing the water. He lifts you up a bit so that his truck make deal with the tie of his pants and he unleashes his big burly member from beneath his shorts. He turns you around, just as he said he would, so that you're facing the TV instead of his face, and his hands squeeze your ass one just for good measure.

Then he settles you down on his length, forcing himself inside without much prep. It wouldn't matter if he did try and prepare you, he is massive, and the intrusion of him literally makes your stomach bulge.

So while he bullies his way inside, at least he does it slowly, until you stretch to accommodate him and his arm-sized length.

Slowly at first, your toes curl with the delicious stretch, and you help yourself adjust by rocking on him, as he pushes himself inside. Deep, then deeper, until every extra skooch makes your eyes roll back. He doesn't give you a warning when he takes you by the hips and starts thrusting you up and down the pole of his length, like he was using your body as a cock sleeve.

James shakes you at whatever pace he prefers, then even bends you slightly forwards, so that when he bottoms out in you, he can feel the flat head of his cock hit your cervix and you feel like your insides are getting all mixed up.

The tip of his dick might as well be in your lungs, you moan and leak your pleasure all over him, messy and unable to help yourself.

It's good you like overstimulation, or this would surely be painful, but the pain only makes you love him more, and make the sticky sensation of your bodies slapping together more satisfying.

" 'm gonna cum." You babble to him, as if you haven't already climaxed several times, only now can the words get forced out. "Please!" You beg him.

He hears your plea for mercy as a demand for more, and so he picks up the pace, making you feel as if you might lose your mind.

"I will soon finish you." He huffs and puffs, snorting from time-to-time as his pleasure builds.

Even imagining the end has your stomach twisting, and your pussy squeezes him that much tighter. It's too much, his mighty reserve spills out of him and stuffs you full of cum. Thick huge loads are normal for him, and they feel he dumps a gallon in you, leaving your stomach swollen and an extra feeling of fullness.

He doesn't leave your walls right away, letting you twitch on him for a little longer.

"Did that show you all you needed to know?" He huffs, as he comes down from his high.

It takes a moment for your brain to restart after the white noise from overstimulation clears from your ears. You nod a bit dumbly, and he chuckles and pulls you up into his arms.

In your ear, his humid breath ghosts across your neck, and he says, "While I think I could be a gladiator in some other world, I don't think you'd make a very durable sex slave. So, it's good that I'm your husband instead, huh."

You laugh at him, and nod. Yeah, it was probably best you lived in this reality, and as he was such a soft nice man, it was best that he didn't have to spend his days killing. He was much better suited for a soft, nice life with you than the big adventures.

This was way better than the movies.