Wednesday, February 8, 2006

Super Trish strikes yet again

This story was contributed by a very, very sexy individual. You know who you are (*wink*)
Please bare in mind that this is just a naughty fiction. The events and characters are not real and it is not my or the authors intention if there is any coincidence in real life (Woah!)

Thank You.

The muscular hunk couldn't believe the stories he was hearing, it was too impossible to accept that a girl was causing such havoc, staking out her undisputed claim as the most lethal fighter on the beach. And yet, the bodies of naked muscular men had been discovered dead in various locations, soundly defeated by someone.

The muscular hunk, who considered himself the king of the beach, knew that the other men had been stripped naked and died violently, whether their necks had been broken or they were strangled to death. What a humiliating end, he thought, to take your last breath naked and erect before a gloating opponent. But, a woman, no way.

That's' what he was hearing, though. It was early morning when he arrived at the beach, wearing a skimpy orange bikini, the bulge of his penis outlined perfectly in profile beneath his suit.

Three naked hunks had been found dead the other week, naked and lined up in a row in a secluded section of the beach. It was embarrassing to try and imagine such a fate, but the hunk in the orange bikini felt his cock straining against the front of his suit as he thought about the possibility of a fight to the death with a beautiful woman. But it could never happen, he scoffed, he'd never lost a fight in his life, so how could he possibly be defeated by a mere woman?

The stories were circulating, though, and they had a ring of truth to them. The woman was said to be hot, shapely and athletic, but with a body that radiated feminine perfection. Word was that her name was Trish, and that after the bodies of
her male victims began showing up, people began referring to the mysterious woman as Super Trish.

Super Trish, my ass, the hunk thought. He'd turn her into Super Trash, if she existed, and then he'd have his way with her, proving his male dominance once and for all as he laid her out before him and forcefully plunged his member into her helpless and waiting pussy.

The beach was empty, but up ahead, the hunk could make out a figure, but he wasn't sure whether it was a man or a woman. He started jogging, his package bouncing in the pouch that served as the front of his suit. As he came closer, he saw that an attractive brunette in a tan string bikini was lying on a blanket, her smooth cocoa-colored skin beckoning him onward.

The hunk stopped and marveled at the girl's shape as she lay on her belly. He was excited that she wasn't wearing a top, and he was getting harder thinking of flipping her over and getting a look at her exposed breasts. His prick was tingling as
he admired her barely covered ass, excitement building so much that he was struggling against the urge to reach down and relieve himself.

He wondered what the large white letters SP on the red blanket that the babe was lying on stood for, as the woman sat up and faced him.

"Can I help you with something?" she asked playfully, noticeably glancing at the growing bulge in his suit.

"I don't need help with anything," the hunk said.

"That's not what it looks like from here," she teased, as she stood up before him.

A flash of annoyance crossed his face, while the front of his suit quivered. Could it be, he wondered, did the SP on the blanket indeed stand for "Super Trish?"

"Are you the one?" he asked, unable to quite accept that this attractive girl might be the one who was creating so much havoc on the beach, conquering one hunk after another.

"Try me," she said seductively, the fingers on her right hand playfully adjusting the string of her bikini.

The hunk wanted her, wanted to possess her, to take her on the spot, to prove his animal male power, both sexually and physically.

He had to have her, he was about to explode. The hunk lunged toward her with outstretched arms but she deftly ducked
under his grasp, slamming her elbow into his ribs as he passed, a sharp crack telling her she had accurately hit her target.

The hunk turned to face her, grimacing, his erect cock sneaking out the right side of his skimpy suit.

"You look like you need relief," she laughed.

The rage was overwhelming, that this girl could dare mock him, he couldn't take it. He swung for her mocking face with a
powerful right, but she easily deflected it with her left arm, then followed up with a sharp right straight into his belly, doubling him over.

He was bent over, holding his gut in pain and anger. The girl grabbed him by the hair and lowering his head, she simultaneously brought her knee up, smashing his nose against it.

"My name's Trish," she said, releasing his hair, as the hunk spun around and fell flat on his belly.

Lying before her, it was over, the fight, that easy. The hunk was stunned, but he knew he was finished. He crawled across the sand toward the ocean, not quite sure what he was doing or where he could go.

Trish walked majestically beside the broken hunk. As he reached the water, she went down on one knee and ripped his
skimpy suit off, slipping it off his backside and down his leg before tossing it back on the beach.

Nice ass, she thought. And it's all mine.

Trish settled herself on the naked hunk's back, as if she was riding him, which in a sense she was, and jammed his head down under the water with her outstretched arms.

The hunk was bewildered, confused, as his face hit the water. He should be on top of the babe, but she was the one so obviously in control. He felt his hard dick as his body was pushed down against the sandy bottom of the ocean floor. Bitch, he thought. You God damn, bitch! But he was helpless. She was rubbing her superiority in literally, moaning with pleasure as she humped his naked back, grinding her barely covered mound against him, as he tried to futilely buck her off and frantically kicked his legs as water filled his lungs.

A conflicting mixture of feelings were swirling through his hazy brain as his struggles slowed, while her humping pace picked up, her momentum increasing, an orgasm assured, at his expense, just moments away. He was angry and humiliated,his shame battling with his excitement, and though he was unable to breathe, her arms mashing his face down hard against the sandy bottom beneath the water, he felt a rock hard surging in his penis as it pounded against the sand beneath her pulsating drives. What a bitch, it should be me on top, he thought, arrrrrggggh, he tried to hold back, but what did it matter, she had him and he was finished anyway, and then his cock exploded, and she kept riding him, holding his head fast
beneath the water, until she was satisfied that the naked hunk between her legs was quite dead.

Releasing his head, Trish sat up, taking her time, settling down, regaining her breath. She needed to calm herself, to relax.

She stood, glancing down at the naked hunk's dead body floating at the edge of the beach, the water gently lapping underneath his legs, his bare ass bobbing gently about. Trish stretched, then planted her foot on the conquered hunk's ass. There was no need for words, it had all been said with her actions. Besides, the naked hunk was gone, far beyond the sound of her words.

Almost as an after thought, she dragged him out of the water and nudged him over on to his back with her foot. What an honor, and a compliment, she laughed, as she admired his penis still towering erect and jutting up from his lifeless body.

Time to go, she decided. So many bodies and so little time, she giggled, as she glanced one more time at her latest male victim. She scooped up his bikini and slipped it against her thigh beneath the string of her own bikini as she continued lazily down the long stretch of beach without a care in the world.

-The End-

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