Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Super Trish (Part 2)

Trish turned to face the two approaching hunks, one a blond in a red bikini and the other with dark shaggy hair wearing what could almost pass for a jockstrap. Trish was psyched,still tingling with sexual excitement from her first conquest, who lay dead behind her. One down, two to go, she thoughtconfidently.

The two hunks slowed and began to warily circle her, theirinitial confidence noticeably shaken a bit by Trish's all too easy disposal of their buddy. Trish loved inflicting her arrogant male adversaries with feelings of doubt, loved the conflicted feelings they were forced to endure over the reality that they, powerful men, might be bested by a mere girl in a pair of panties.

But that was the reality, no getting around it. Trish had triumphed over too many men for it to be a fluke. No, it was simple, she was a better fighter than any man, regardless of his power or physique. In a battle of the pussy against the penis, Trish knew for certain that the pussy would prevail.

The blond hunk made his move, arms outstretched, trying to capture her in a bear hug, but she was ready, ducking under his lumbering grasp and jutting her hip into his groin stopping him in his tracks.

The jockstrap hunk was coming up from her other side, anticipation on his face, his bulging cockhead bouncing up and out against his belly. And that's where Trish struck, with a quick whirl and an outstretched leg, her foot sank deep into his stomach and he dropped to his knees before her.

It was over, even if the hunks didn't recognize their inevitable defeat yet. Trish pranced about, debating what her next move should be. The blond hunk was on all fours, grimacing, while the jockstrap guy was still on his knees, clutching his stomach.

She strutted over to the blond and ripped his suit off, admiring his naked muscular backside. Then, slipping her arms under his, she hoisted him up on his knees, his penis trembling, stiff and desperately seeking relief, as it pointed upward in vain.

Trish simultaneously collared him across the throat with one arm, while jerking his left arm up behind his back with her other arm. She tightened her grip and pulled the hunk back against her body, playfully gyrating against him as she ordered him to start jerking his cock.

She laughed and urged the blond hunk to go faster as his fellow hunk slowly made his way to his feet, still hurt from the kick to his gut. The blond was now going at a frenzied pace, his potential ecstasy greater than his pain. He was moaning and groaning, his breath quick and rapid, and then he was almost squealing, as first a glob of cum spurted out, followed by a jet stream arching up and out before landing and staining the sandy beach.

Trish felt the hunk relax in her grasp. She was aware of a pleasant moistness beneath the triangular patch passing as her bikini. It wasn't so much that she felt power, which she did, but more than that she savored the thrill of accomplishment, of once again so completely and successfully besting a so-called "superior man".

But, alas, this was no time for aimless musings. With quick determination, in an almost nonchalant move, she wrenched the hunk's naked cum-stained body back further, twisting his neck with her arm as her knee came up against his back. She heard the telltale crack of his neck and released him, allowing him to drop face down before her as she waited for the shaggy haired hunk to approach.

(To be continued...)

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