Fantasy Jet set babe wanderlust custom resort wear

What can I say I need a super hero in my life ….

Rewarding the Woman Who Saved Me From a Mugger
She shows me her fighting skills, then I show her my oral skills

If I didn’t need cash to buy drugs, I never would have gone to the ATM machine around the corner from my house at 2 in the morning. This isn’t the greatest neighborhood. Plus, at 5′ 6″ and 128 pounds, I’m a mugger’s wet dream.
The coast is clear as I withdraw $200, but as I pass by an unlit alley, strong hands reach out and drag me into the darkness.
I feel the cold steel of a six-inch blade pressed against my throat.
“Gimme yer phone and wallet,” a gravelly voice whispers. A sliver of moonlight reveals a stubbly Caucasian face with sinister eyes and a nose that’s been broken a few times.
My hands are shaking, and I drop my phone. As it hits the ground, it lights up, distracting the mugger enough for me to slip from his grasp. He’s able to grab me before I make it out of the alley, and as he drags me to the ground, I land badly on my ankle.
“Ah, fuck!” I yell.
The commotion draws the attention of a passerby.
“What’s going on here?” the woman asks. The softness of her voice surprises me considering the size of her silhouette. She’s well over six feet tall, with broad swimmer’s shoulders, and a strong confident posture.
“Mind your own business, bitch!” the mugger yells.
“Someone getting mugged in my neighborhood is my business.”
“Lady, you better — ”
Before he can finish his sentence, she swings her bag like Thor’s hammer and cracks him in the side of the head. Then, as he’s recovering, she kicks him with her shin on the outside of his leg, causing it to buckle. On his way down, she brings her knee to his face, splattering his nose like a water balloon full of spaghetti sauce.
He’s out cold.
She helps me sit up. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I think so.” But as I try to stand up, my ankle gives out. “Shit. I guess not.”
“Do you think you need to go to the hospital?”
It’s a fair question. Most people living in this part of town don’t have health insurance and can’t afford a ride in an ambulance. I’m one of those people.
“No, I should be ok.” I force myself off the ground, putting weight only on my good leg. “Thanks, by the way. I’m pretty sure you saved my life.”
“No problem.”
“What should we do about him?” I ask, nodding at my unconscious attacker.
She picks up his knife and tosses it into her bag. “I already did something about him, didn’t I? I think he’s learned his lesson.”
“Fair enough.”
Calling the police would not make me very popular with my neighbors.
I try to walk again and collapse into her arms.
“Where do you live?” she asks.
“Just up the street.”
“Well, then let me walk you home.”
“Thanks, but that’s not — ”
She scoops me up like a baby and carries me out of the alley.
“Ok, then,” I say.
She’s wearing a cropped tank top and the skin on her rippling arms is sticky from dried sweat. Though she’s clearly just come from the gym, she somehow smells like vanilla.
“I’m Tim, by the way.”
“Sharon,” she says.
Under the orange glow of the only working streetlamp, I see a plain, yet pretty face interrupted by a deep scar going from her right brow all the way down to her chin. Her eyes are chocolate pools of sorrow and anger.
I can’t help but wonder about the scars she might have on other parts of her body. Or piercings. Or tattoos. Basically, what I mean is I can’t help but picture her naked. I’ve always been attracted to total badasses.
She carries me into my building, up two flights of stairs, and all the way to my unit. She doesn’t put me down until we get to the couch in my living room.
“Before I was an MMA fighter, I was an MMA onsite medic,” she says. “Let me take a look at that ankle.”
“Uh, sure.”
She removes my shoe and sock. If she wasn’t so gamey herself, I might be more insecure about my sweaty feet.
Though her hands are strong, she is gentle enough that she can handle my injured ankle without causing further pain. She exudes the ultimate combination of power and grace.
“Well, it doesn’t appear to be broken. But I think you should stay off it for the rest of the night. And if the pain doesn’t go away in a couple of days, you really should see a doctor. In the meantime, get some ice on it.”
“Sounds good. I have some frozen peas in the freezer. I’ll just — ” As I try to stand up, I get a shooting pain in my ankle even without putting weight on it. Sharon catches me before I fall.
“Maybe I should get the peas,” she says.
“Thanks. Hey, uh… while you’re in there, why don’t you grab us a couple of beers?”
She raises a cautious eyebrow.
“I need a little something to take the edge off,” I say. “And after you saved my life, the least I can do is offer you a cold one.”
She shrugs. “I guess that’ll be ok. I was thinking I probably should stick around for a bit anyway. You know, in case you have a concussion or something.”
“Right.”
The kitchen is actually connected to the living room, so I’m able to see her from the couch.
“There are cups in that cabinet next to the fridge on the top shelf.”
The shelf is so high that I need a stool to reach it. She can reach it easily with her feet flat on the floor. As she does, her mighty ass flexes and her crop top pulls up to reveal her hard abs.
“Uh, it’s empty,” she says.
It’s always empty. I just wanted to see her stretch.
As usual, the only three glasses I own are in the sink. Along with all of my other dishes.
“Damn,” I say. “I guess we’ll have to drink out of the bottles.”
“That’s fine.”
After prying off the bottlecaps with her bare hands, she joins me on the couch. My injured foot is elevated on the coffee table. She applies the frozen peas for me. Meanwhile, she massages my foot with her other hand.
“That feels good,” I say. “How the hell are your hands so soft and smooth? I mean, you just tore off those bottlecaps and there’s not a mark on them?”
She smiles for the first time all night. “I guess I just have resilient skin.”
The foot massage feels so good, in fact, that I start to feel good in other places, too. I squeeze my thighs together to suppress my growing bulge, but that just makes it worse.
She sees me struggling.
“Are you ok? Do you need to pee or something?”
“Or something.”
“Well, then let me help — Oh.”
Surprisingly, she doesn’t knee me in the face or storm out of my apartment.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t know why this is happening. I mean, I do — you’re a very attractive woman, and I… well, but I — ”
She puts a finger to my lips. “Shh. It’s fine. It’s probably just the adrenalin. You were mugged, remember? That’s a traumatic thing and it can affect you in all kinds of unexpected ways. The question is what are we going to do about it?”
“We?”
Her hand wanders up my inner thigh. “The only way you’ll truly calm down is if you get release. Sure, I could leave right now and let you rub one out, but what if you get light-headed and faint? As a doctor, I can’t in good conscience take any chances.”
“I thought you weren’t a doctor anymore.”
“The Hippocratic Oath is for life.”
Interesting. It seems like what she did to that guy in the alley and what she must do in the Octagon are in direct conflict with the concept of “Do no harm.” But I’m not a doctor, so what do I know?
“Well, if that’s what you think is best.”
“Oh, it is,” she says.
I feel like a hobbit as this enormous woman leans in to kiss me. Her tongue fills my mouth, her hand covers my face as she caresses my cheek. Meanwhile, her other hand opens my pants and takes out my cock.
I’ve never felt so small. Even when fully erect, my tip barely peeks out the top of her fist. She keeps stroking me, hoping for more. She can’t be that surprised, though, can she? What human male could have a cock big enough to satisfy this woman?
When I don’t get any bigger, she switches to her mouth. She brings her lips all the way down to my base with ease, then sucks on me like a Jolly Rancher. There’s no gagging or choking. At no point does the head of my cock touch the back of her throat.
Though it’s making me self-conscious about my size, I have to admit this is the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten.
And if this really is just about getting me off so I don’t die or whatever, then I don’t have to worry about satisfying her, do I? I can just deposit my load in her mouth and she can be on her way.
But that doesn’t seem right. I mean, this woman did save my life. I should give her something for her trouble other than cheap beer.
I give her hair a gentle tug to let her know she can stop.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. “It felt like you were getting close. Your balls are so tight, and your cock is super hard.”
“I was. You’re amazing. But before I cum, I want to give you something. Now, I know my dick isn’t very big, but I’m pretty good with my mouth.”
She raises an eyebrow — this time with a naughty smirk. “Well, if you insist.”
“I do. Now, come sit on my face.”
While she removes her tight yoga pants and underwear, I lay back on the couch and wait. She swings a tree trunk of a leg over my head and blocks out the light.
Off the bat, I’m hit with a pungent reminder that she hasn’t showered since her workout — but I don’t mind. I actually like the combination of sweet and savory, and her honey pot is extra salty thanks to the dried sweat. She’s like a hot plate of Sesame Chicken.
She sighs as I probe her labia with my tongue. Her pussy opens, and I flick her insides. As I explore her cave, I’m hyper aware of the muscular walls next to my ears. If she gets too excited, she could crush my head like a coconut.
It’ll be a hell of a way to go. Certainly better than getting stabbed in an alley for $200 and a cracked phone.
“That feels so good,” she moans.
With my mouth full of her juicy pussy, my hands glide over her firm belly under her loose-fitting shirt to her sports bra underneath. She removes her top and releases her grapefruit-sized tits. They’re more than a handful for me but proportionally about average. Her nipples, however, are hard and long like AAA batteries.
Her stomach flexes as I play with her breasts. She grabs my hands, letting me know to squeeze harder. Meanwhile, she’s grinding her hips, burying my face in her pussy. I take her clit loosely between my teeth and give it a gentle nibble. A thick, viscous fluid spills out of her and glazes my head like a cinnamon roll.
Her body is starting to quake, which can mean only one thing.
“I’m cumming!” she screams.
My body tenses as I prepare to be mashed into a fine paste. Luckily, she shows some restraint. I keep sucking and licking until I feel her relax.
“I want you inside me,” she says before crawling backwards until she reaches my still-hard cock.
I guess it can’t hurt to try.
After rubbing it across her drenched pussy, she stuffs me inside her. But as we both feared, it’s like throwing a hotdog down a hallway. All I feel is her pelvis against mine and the sizzling humidity of her vast cavity.
She grinds on me for a while, then tries rubbing her own clit, but it soon becomes clear that there isn’t enough sensation to give her another orgasm.
“That was nice,” she says with a genuine smile. “Now it’s time for you to cum.”
She slides back further so that she’s sitting on my thighs. With one hand, she caresses my embarrassingly soft belly; with the other, she alternates between stroking my cock and rubbing it across her pussy lips.
She sees the glazed-over look in my eyes and knows what’s coming.
“That’s it, cum for me! Cum for me!”
My cock may not be huge, but my load is. It explodes out like a volcano, painting her stomach, the bottom of her tits, and even her chin.
“Oh, my!” she gasps. “Now, that was an impressive load.”
She climbs off me, pounds her beer, then my beer, then puts on her clothes. “Well, I’m definitely glad I stayed, because you certainly had a lot of pent-up tension. Who knows what would have happened had you been left to your own devices?”
“Thank you,” I say.
“No, thank you. It’s been a while since someone has eaten my pussy so well.”
“You work with what you got,” I say.
“That’s the spirit.” She looks at my ankle. “Actually, it looks like the swelling has gone down. Try standing on it.”
“Really?”
“I’m here to catch you if you fall.”
Sure enough, she’s right. There’s still a little discomfort, but I can put my full weight on it and even walk. I’m no doctor, but it must have been the sex that cured me. My cock, as small as it is, must have siphoned enough blood away from the affected ankle to ease the inflammation.
As Sharon walks out my door with her stinky gym bag, I can’t take my eyes off her mighty ass. Though I may never see her again, I’m sure she will be the star of many a masturbatory fantasy for years to come.
Of course, if I do need to see her in the flesh, I can always hang out in a dark alley until I get mugged again. I’m sure she’ll show up like Batman to save me.