----------------

PART 11

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Zorlock groaned as he reviewed once again the memo from the science ministry.  The environmentalists had been raising a fuss again, and now it meant that the pair of prospectors had to cease mining activity on at least 189 planets.   For 151 of them, Zorlock and Zilbreath had simply shut the prospecting machines down.  Another 34 had to be written off, either because pulling out meant letting those planets fall into the hands of rival civilizations, or in a few cases, because the planets themselves were starting to collapse.  With three more planets, Zorlock had simply blown them up, which was a lot less hassle than the litigation.  And then there was Earth, where they had left a few control modules in the indigenous organisms.

 

"So, what do we do about the 'Earth' planet," Zorlock asked.  "Do we shut the modules down?"

 

"No, restarting them will take too long.  What are the other options?"  Zilbreath responded.

 

"It says there's a 'Hibernate' and a 'Stand By.'  What the fuck is the difference between 'Hibernate' and 'Stand By'?"

 

"Nobody can ever figure that out.  Let's go with 'Stand By'."

 

Zorlock flipped a switch.

 

 

---

 

 

Vicky turned the TV off with a sigh and tossed the remote onto the end table.  She was suddenly in a funk, she realized.  Where the emotion came from, she had no idea.  Only a week ago, she had been so clear about what she wanted to do in the future -- something to do with beings from another planet, but now she couldn't quite remember.  She knew she liked being in charge of other people.  She knew she liked making an example out of those who underestimated her.  And she really liked rocks and minerals.  But should couldn't remember why.  Also, she seemed to remember that some foreign cosmic force was guiding her thoughts, but she couldn't remember who. 

 

Part of her funk probably had to do with being alone with her thoughts.  Kim had disappeared shortly after the vigil -- something about needing to run an errand at the auto dealer.  Tammy had left the vigil with the President of the University, for some reason, and had not come home.  And who knew where Louisa was.

 

And in the darkness of her own apartment, made more hollow by the solitary light of the TV, Vicky wondered about the killings in the basketball gym they had committed the other night.  It felt fantastic at the time, but the after-effect did not feel as good.  In retrospect, it seemed a bit over-the-top to expend human life in that way, particularly when a few of the guys had done little more than insult them with words.  But boy had it felt good.  Vicky wondered if she was changing as a person, and the wondering contributed to a sense of loneliness. 

 

Nonetheless Vicky knew that however blue she felt about this, Louisa felt positively black.  Louisa had been responsible for more than half of the killings that night.   Once she had finally realized the morbid extent of her deadly orgy,  Louisa had become nearly hysterical and was now locked in her room.

 

Vicky opened her phone and punched Jared's name.  "Hey."

 

"Hey yourself," he responded.

 

"Jared, I need you to do me a favor."

 

Silence.

 

"Look," Vicky continued.  "The last few days have been a lot to take in -- for you, me, everybody.  Louisa went a little bit overboard the other night.  Those guys she killed -- they had done really awful shit to her.  But now Louisa is in shambles; the guilt is eating her up."

 

"Maybe she SHOULD be in shambles about this."

 

"Look, I know that a lot of what I've done was scary and upsetting to you, but you have no idea what it's like to be inside these bodies.  How exhilarating it is, and how strong the impulses are.    When I feel desire, I feel it with the emotional force of a dozen normal women.  It's hard to explain."

 

"It sounds like you could understand her better than I," he hesitated.  "Maybe you should talk to her."

 

"No, that's exactly the problem.  I'm too much like her.  I'm the one that made her sexy enough to attract the interest of those rapists.  And I'm the one who made her powerful enough to do as much damage as she did.  I'm the reason she is who she is today.   If I say something, she'll just see that as one monster talking to another.  But you're different.   You're still the same old Jared you've always been.  She trusts you."

 

"OK," Jared said skeptically.  "So the supergirl who can jump off a three story building like stepping off a street curb, the one who can pick up a truck like it's made of balsa wood-- she needs help from me?"

 

"Yes, I'm scared Louisa is going to go off and do something stupid to herself.  Go talk to her.  I'm begging you, Jared."

 

"Don't be silly, Vicky.  You don't have to beg me.  Of course I'll talk to her.  I'd do anything for you girls."

 

"You don't despise us for what we did the other night?"

 

"I'm slowly getting over it.   For one thing, those guys were assholes.  But more importantly, you're telling me that something came over you, some type of impulse you couldn't control.  Please tell me you're not lying."

 

"I'm not."

 

"Good, that makes it easier for me.  I've always thought you were a great person, Vicky.  And I want to keep thinking that."

 

"Jared, you're the best,"  Vicky gushed.  "You know..."

 

"What's that?"

 

"You know, I've never had the courage to say this before...."

 

"What?" Jared prodded.

 

"Jared, I've always lo...."  Vicky caught herself, like batter checking his swing.  "I'm sorry, I got carried away."

 

"What were you about to say?"

 

"I gotta go," Vicky coughed, and hung up the phone.

 

 

---

 

 

In daylight, the stunning auburn-haired figure slowly walking the streets would have turned heads.  But at night, on the poorly-lit side streets of Las Cruces, she was anonymous as the unseen trees that softly rustled in the wind.

 

Hands shoved deep into her front pockets, Vicky stared at her shoes as she walked.  She needed the fresh air -- the chance to clear her head, the chance to put some distance between herself and the moment of weakness she had experienced in front of Jared. 

 

Jared was a great guy.  In some ways, he was a perfect guy.  She respected him, looked up to him.  And that was the problem.  Next to his intelligence, dignity and compassion, she felt like a weak and awful person--  a woman who uses her beauty to get what she wants, who organized a killing spree in a gym just for fun.  She had made herself irresistible on the outside to cover the emptiness on the inside.  Few men could see past her perfect exterior, but she knew Jared could, and she couldn't bear to see the disappointment in his eyes.  She could never tell him how she felt about him.  "When he finally out how worthless I am,"  she said out loud, "the rejection will be too much."

 

But Vicky knew full well that there was a second aspect of Jared prevented her from pursuing him romantically:  he was a man.  Ever since Cuthbertson, she had never mustered the courage to be intimate with any man.  Sure, she had enjoyed the sexual charms of the other girls from time to time.  But being with a man simply reminded her of being violated.  It was an vile, nauseating recollection.

 

Nonetheless, Vicky also ached for it to be different.  At times, she yearned to someday again feel a man between her legs, to see the look in his eyes as his cock slid between her superhuman labia, tight as a virgin's and capable of caressing him in ways no normal woman could.

 

It was a shame, really.  Her body was scorching hot.  And in the face of her hotness, anyone with a dick quickly saw their willpower reduced to ashes.  She could have just about any man she chose, if should could only bring herself to take that step.  At some point, she would have to hold a man in her arms again.  She would have to get over her past trauma and get back in the game.

 

The sounds and lights of the Desert Fox bar had been slowly intruding upon her solitude as she got closer to town, and when she turned the corner, the blue and red neon signs in the windows seemed to stab into the breezy evening darkness.

 

Staring at the bar, Vicky realized that maybe tonight was the night-- the night to re-introduce the male half of the species to the new and improved Vicky.

 

"Come on, Vicky, you can do it," she said out loud as she quickened her pace.  Before she could talk herself out of it, she was walking in the front door.

 

 

---

 

 

As she stepped into the boisterous space, Vicky realized belatedly that a little bit of effort on her appearance would have been apropos.  A simple cotton henley top, jeans with paint stains, and no make-up -- it wasn't exactly the look of a woman that wanted attention from guys.

 

But as she proceeded through the room, she thought, perhaps it didn't matter.  Male conversations seemed to coast to a stop whenever she approached.  Guys bragging about how many women wanted them, or how many they had bedded -- these guys seems to lose all their eloquence when she passed by.  It was as if all their sexual conquests, even if they were real, didn't add up to much.

 

And looking in the cheap mirror with the beer logo, she could see why.  Her complexion, for one, was simply stunning.  The muted barroom lights brought out the fire in her auburn hair, which in turn seemed to highlight the flecks of gold in her hazel eyes.  As the eye wandered down, the thin cords of muscle on her neck hinted at the athletic body underneath, and did nothing to suggest her true power.  Further down still, the buttons of her henley top were all undone -- the only way to fit her copious bust line into the shirt.  And copious it was, filling the eye with breathtaking cleavage even through the limited opening in the shirt.  Since henleys have some elasticity, the shirt cinched in tightly around her midriff, accentuating the Barbie Doll curves of her figure. 

 

Her jeans -- splotched with white paint stains from recent apartment repairs -- left a lot to be desired.  But their contents did not.  Wide hips and an extremely pert ass literally rounded out the picture, and her skinny legs were simply swimming inside the pant legs.

 

She flashed a winning smile at a group of rather cute guys that had already taken a moment of silence from their conversation to admire her.  They smiled nervously back. 

 

Game on.

 

Vicky took a seat at the bar alone, with empty bar stools on her right and left.  She had expected that the first guy to approach her would be one of the guys from the table, but no such luck.  A lumbering, stinky biker dude piled onto the stool next to her.

 

"Well, you're hot as hell, if I ever saw it.  Smoking hot."

 

"And you're really subtle."

 

"Hey I say what I think," the biker dude half spoke, half belched.  He stank of whiskey, but stumbled on.  "Name is Trent.  So, what are you going to be doin' later tonight?   Or, I should say, who are you goin' to be doin' it with?" 

 

He laughed at his own joke.

 

"Guarantee you one thing," she retorted, "it's not going to be you."

 

"Oh come on, you're no fun.  Humor me a bit."

 

"No," she resisted.  "You're disgusting."

 

"You know," Trent barked as he laid a hand on her forearm, "you're not so smart.  Some pretty dumb ladies have gotten into a lot of trouble here for a lot less than that."

 

"OK, that's enough."  It was one of the guys from the table.  "She says she's done talking to you.  Let her go."  He was scrawny and no match at all for this bully, but Vicky was touched by the nobility of the gesture.

 

"Did anyone ask your fucking opinion?" Trent snarled, spittle raining out of his mouth.  Before Vicky could know it, three more biker guys had emerged.  They were all big, heavy and full of tattoos and scars.  This wasn't looking good.

 

"Hey look, the lady clearly wants to be left alone.  How hard is it to act like a gentleman?"

 

One of the biker dudes grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and had cocked a fist back for a punch when an authoritative shout came from behind the bar. 

 

"Outside guys, NOW."  It was the bartender, slowly reaching into the closet to withdraw a shotgun.

 

One of the biker dudes grabbed Vicky's champion and made for the door with his buddies in tow.  Vicky began to follow.

 

"No, you stay here," the bartender ordered.  "It's bad enough what they're going to do to him."

 

"At least give me your name," Vicky whispered to her defender.

 

"Ethan," he replied.

 

"Give 'em hell," she smiled.

 

Vicky returned to her barstool.  For a normal person, the ambient noise at the center of the bar would have drowned out the sound of anything occurring outside.  But with her enhanced ears it was as if the walls weren't even there. 

 

And from the sound it, hell was definitely being given, but not by Ethan.

 

As each punch smacked into Ethan’s body, something stirred inside Vicky.  She hadn't wanted it to be this way.  Pick up a guy, have some nice sex, that was supposed to be it for this adventure.  She didn't want another scene like the basketball court the other day, with 11 fatalities.  But with the sound of every punch, Vicky felt a heat and rage again stirring inside.  A little bit of rough housing was feeling like a better and better way to spend the evening.  "Come on, Ethan, do something," she thought, "before you get really hurt."

 

But ultimately, Vicky heard a sickening smack and realized that it was no longer a fight.  They had him on the ground and were kicking him.

 

"Alright," Vicky growled to no one in particular.  "That does it."

 

Vicky climbed out of her barstool and stomped to the back of the bar.  Without bothering to look for a doorknob, she gave the door an irritated shove.  It blasted off its hinges in a shower of wood splinters and sailed clear across the drive aisle, shattering the back window of a parked SUV.

 

The guys were indeed kicking him. 

 

"Ok guys," she said to the bikers.  "Party's over."

 

"No it's not," one snarled.  "This is just the appetizer."

 

"Don't mix your fucking analogies," Vicky retorted.  Her fists moved like lightning and one of the guys instantly crumpled to the ground, shortly followed by his friend-- two down.  Vicky kept the punches firm but non-lethal.  She didn't know how far she wanted to take this.

 

Trent came at her with a right cross, but she caught his hand instantly.  "You seem to be the one in charge, right?" She purred.

 

"Ugh," he struggled to free himself.  "Yea."

 

"Is this bullshit going to stop?"  Vicky asked.

 

"Not until you're both curled up in a bloody pulp!" Trent barked.

 

In that moment, Vicky felt something inside her click a little bit.  She was on the verge of kicking some serious ass, and God, even the thought of it now felt awesome.  She sensed a tingling throughout her body, and her will power began to diminish.  Hearing a few bones snap would feel sooooo good right now!

 

"This hand here," Vicky motioned towards the fist she still had in her iron grip, "tried to hurt me.  I'm going to show you what happens to stuff that offends me."  His hand quickly erupted in a series of cracking sounds.

 

"Bitch!" He exclaimed in shock and confusion.

 

"Damn, now your mouth is offensive too."  Vicky delivered a gentle hook to his mouth, shattering it.  He crumpled to the ground.

 

With three guys now reeling on the ground, Vicky grabbed the fourth by the scruff of the neck and yanked him close, jerking him as if he were no heavier than straw.  He assailed her with several punches but she could only chuckle to herself as the blows amounted to nothing more than light tickles.  She took a deep whiff of his disgusting breath and then smiled with pleasure.  "Point two four blood alcohol -- you're stinking drunk.  That's perfect.  You'll be the driver."

 

Vicky casually slammed the guy onto the ground, landing on his back.  Her superhuman hearing heard three ribs break.

 

Vicky turned to Ethan.  The poor guy was slowly coming out of his fetal position on the ground.  "Give me your car keys," she demanded.

 

He did so, perhaps out of fear, perhaps out of respect for the authority of her voice, she didn't know.  She punched a button on the key fob.  The car that "bleeped" was only thirty feet away.

 

"Please, don't hit me again!" Begged one of the guys on the ground.

 

"Get in," she ordered the four guys.  Grabbing the least injured pair, she tossed them casually in the direction of the car.  They landed on the hood.  It was fun to toss these guys around like playthings, Vicky thought.  This is so much healthier than sulking in front of the TV!

 

With the more injured guys, she picked them up like they were made of styrofoam and marched them over to the car.  Once everyone was inside Ethan's car, either under their own power or under hers, one fearfully asked "Where are we going?"

 

"Not far, trust me."

 

"What are you doing with my car?" Ethan was now meekly standing by her side. 

 

"I'll find you a new one, I promise," she smiled a winning smile.  "This one sucks anyway."

 

"That's not tr---"  But Ethan didn't get to finish his sentence.  Vicky had reached under the bumper, hauling the car up like it was no heavier than a picnic blanket.  She grabbed the transaxle with one hand and centered the car above her, all four wheels high off the ground.

 

"Holy crra... crrraaa..." Ethan stammered.

 

"Shhh!" Vicky smiled and winked.  "You can't tell anyone, OK?"

 

"Oooooo..... oooo.... OK."

 

"Oh my god, you're so cute when you're petrified.  I can't wait to get my hands on you."

 

"What are you going to do with them?"  There was screaming and shouting coming from inside the car.

 

"I don't know," she replied, casually ambling down the parking lot with the car above her.  "I was going to fuck around with them for a while, but now that I think about it, I'd rather fuck around with you."

 

He froze.

 

"In a nice way, buster."

 

He seemed to relax a little.  Vicky reveled in the immensity of her power.  Four desperate guys, screaming for her mercy.  One very nice but scared guy shaking in his shoes.  All of them hanging on her every word and action.  She ruled.

 

"Come on," she smiled warmly to Ethan, "I want to hang out with you.  Let's go."

 

She cocked her arm back and casually tossed the car like a javelin.

 

SMACK!!

 

The car had sailed across the road and collided with a tree-- an awful crunch of metal collapsing and plastic snapping.  The car then unceremoniously settled to the ground in a wrecked heap.  Commotion could be heard inside the bar as people scrambled to the front door to investigate the noise.

 

Vicky grabbed Ethan's hand and walked him over to the four motorcycles presumably ridden in by the guys.  "Which one do you want?"

 

"Were just taking one?"

 

"I want it,"  she replied, as if that was an explanation.

 

"You can drive one of these?"

 

"I imagine.  Come on, we'll be fine."  Vicky climbed on the newest, biggest one and throttled it up.  "Come on, you wus!"

 

Ethan obediently climbed on in back and Vicky roared out of the parking lot.  

 

"Call 911," she shouted over the increasing wind.  "I'll tell you what to say.  And give me directions back to your place too." 

 

Ethan wrapped a frightened arm around her waist.  He did his best to give driving directions to her while she in turn gave him directions on what to say to the 911 dispatcher.  

 

Their route led them up a winding, dark road.  Apparently, his house was in a secluded area up in the hills.  Vicky banked a particularly tight turn and his weight shifted on the motorcycle.  He squeezed for dear life, inadvertently cradling some breast in the process.

 

"I'm so sorry," he pleaded as he hung up the phone.  "I was scared I was going to fall off the --"

 

"Shut up, you square.  Can't you see that I like you?"

 

"You're not going to do something bad to me, are you?"

 

"Not unless I feel like it," Vicky laughed over her shoulder.   "Right now, you've got me a little bit turned on.  Here, give me that hand again."

 

Taking his hand in hers, she led it under her shirt.  She could feel his breathing shallow as she led it upwards, eventually cupping him over her right breast and nipple.  His hand felt somewhat tiny to her, given her immensity there.  But the contact and pressure sent a tingle through her that was out of this world.  Her nipple instantly awoke, rewarding his touch by expanding to the size of a pinball.

 

"That's better," Vicky cast him a heart-rending smile.  "You'd better learn your way around that topography now.  There's going to be a test later."

 

 

---

 

 

With Ethan still clinging onto her for dear life, Vicky roared the motorcycle into the driveway, putting the bike into an arresting skid that stopped only feet away from his front door.

 

Ethan stood up on wobbly feet as Vicky dismounted the bike and, not bothering with the kickstand, let it clang to the ground.

 

She turned slowly to Ethan, the light and shadow of the moon casting in stark relief her absurd curves and flowing mane of auburn hair.

 

"So?" She prodded, a quizzical expression on her face.

 

"Can I have you upstairs for some coffee?"  Ethan meekly asked.

 

"Coffee?" She asked, amused.  "Sure, whatever, if  that's what you want to call it."

 

Ethan laughed nervously and began following her up the stairs to his own front door.  For Vicky, the motion of walking up the stairs caused her panties to rub against her excited clit, sending preemptive waves of erotic bliss across her body.  She could feel that her panties were already plenty damp.  And yet, as aroused as she was, she saw that Ethan seemed to have even a harder time functioning.

 

"You don't do this much, do you?"  She asked.  Ethan nodded.  "You seem kind of shy."  Ethan nodded again.  "What is it that you do?"

 

"I'm a reference librarian at the University-  mostly in the science section.  Sorry,"  he continued, fumbling with his keys at the door, "the lock is sometimes temperamental."

 

Vicky laid a gentle hand on top of his own, to stop the fumbling.  "Did you say the science section?"

 

He nodded.

 

"Like rocks and minerals?"

 

He nodded again.

 

"Like, if you and I are friends, you might be able to get me access to all the rocks and minerals books?"

 

"Uh, sure," he responded, uncertainly, continuing to wiggle the key in the lock.  "Books, periodicals, maps -- the library has a pretty good collection.  The University has always had a strong acquisition program for geology material because it's such a big part of the state's eco--"

 

"Oooohhh" Vicky sighed, seeming to lose her balance.  Her arousal now screamed inside of her with the urgency of an air raid siren.  Her pussy ached for him in a way it had never ached for anyone before.  The wetness down below somehow doubled or tripled, and she felt an errant stream of vaginal juice roll lazily down her leg.

 

"Is something wrong?"

 

"Quite the opposite," Vicky breathily replied, trying to steady herself.  "I don't think I've ever been so... excited to meet someone.  You were adorable to begin with.  But you're also...." Vicky rasped, the blood rising to her cheeks, "a science librarian?"

 

"Yes," he admitted, continuing to fumble with the keys, "but I've never met any woman who thought it was sexy to be a librar--"

 

Vicky slammed her fist into the door, snapping the latch and deadbolt through the doorframe in a riot of splinters.  The door flew open, whipped around on its hinges, and smashed into the drywall on the other side.  Its momentum yanked one of the hinges clear out of the frame, and the door came to rest a splintered, crooked wreck. 

 

"Honey," Vicky purred, "we're skipping the coffee."

 

 

---

 

 

The house was an A-frame, and the bedroom was in the upstairs loft.  Vicky slowly rode Ethan's manhood as he lay supine on the bed.  He had already come twice, which to Vicky, meant that the festivities were just getting started.

 

Every wrinkle and striation of his librarian's cock felt simply divine to her.  Having designed her own body, Vicky knew that she was experiencing sex the way no natural woman possibly could -- that she possessed sensory equivalent of perhaps twenty women.  Every time she jammed her engorged clit into his pelvis, it was the sensory equivalent of two or three normal woman's orgasms.  And every time she experienced an orgasm, it was so intense that it would have given a normal woman's body a heart attack --  and given that normal woman's mind a trip to the psychiatric ward.

 

The windows of the loft were open, and Vicky felt the cool night air tickle her goose-bumped skin.  She looked down between her twin mounds at Ethan's enraptured face.  They had lit a candle -- his request -- so that he could see the superhuman beauty that rode him, and the light of the candle danced warmly across the landscape of her curves. 

 

Vicky loved the way her body seemed to put his mind in a trance.  She used to be so shy about her body, but now, it was like a magic wand -- something that she could wave over just about any man, leaving him awestruck and pliable.

 

This screw was exactly what she needed.  Before walking into that bar, she had been stuck in an emotional morass about Jared.  She had been torn up about her feelings for him--  knowing that she didn't deserve him, fearing that she could fuck up the incredible friendship they had.  Vicky had been tearing her hair out about this bullshit.  And the man between her legs now was the perfect antidote -- adorable, no commitments, no harm, no foul.  And, he was a dream come true-- a fucking science librarian!

 

Continuing to ride his cock, Vicky sat back and ran her hands through her hair, reveling in the delicious sensations of him sliding in and out of her.  Even in her sexual ecstasy, she was taking in hundreds of sensations from outside -- the smell of desert sage and pine, the sound of a mouse scratching its way across the desert floor 50 yards away, and miles in the distance, a conversation outside a bar.

 

"Let me get this straight," the conversation proceeded.  The cackle of a radio in the background suggested that the speaker was a cop.  "The four of you left the bar, and ganged up on a couple, beating the guy senseless and then turning on the woman.  Then, she -- not he -- overpowered you.  And instead of running away or calling us, she forced you into a car -- and not just any car, but her boyfriend's car.  Why the hell would she pick that car?"  The cop's partner was chuckling by now.  "And then she hoists up the car--" the partner was laughing out loud by now, "she hoists up the car and throws it -- like a paper airplane -- into the tree."

 

"Yea," came the baleful response.  Vicky laughed to herself silently.

 

The cop continued.  "So the fact that you wound up in this car has nothing -- nothing at all -- to do with the fact that you were trying to steal it from the couple you just beat up.  And even though our dispatcher got a call from the victim saying that his car was stolen, the victim is a bald faced liar.  That right?"

 

"You gotta believe me, officer!"

 

"And the fact that you drove the car into a tree and put two passengers in hospital gurney, has nothing to do -- nothing at all -- with the fact that you were drunk.  And the fact that there is a supergirl somewhere in your story also has nothing to do -- nothing at all-- with the fact that you were drunk.  Do I have it all correct?"

 

"Yes," came the sullen response.

 

"OK, we're taking you downtown, smartass.  They next time you steal a car and drive under the influence, try to make up a better story first."

 

 

---

 

 

Ethan gazed up at the sexual goddess who was now straddling him.  Her face was striking even in candlelight, and the way that she formed her mouth into and "O" sent tremors through him.  She had both hands on his chest for balance, which had the effect of pressing her massive mammaries together.  In any porn movie, this would have been enough to get him off.  As a result, his brain struggled to process what his body knew.  This was real.

 

Out of the blue, she laughed out loud -- a musical, enchanting mirth.

 

"What's so.... funny?" he struggled as she gently worked her pussy lips over the head of his cock.  Words were hard for him right now.

 

Vicky lit up a brilliant smile.  "The police arrested your friends from at the bar."

 

"How... can you tell?" 

 

"I can hear them chatting outside the bar."

 

"But that ... It's three miles away."

 

"I know.  My hearing is ridiculous.  I could hear some noises 20 miles away if I wanted to.  I'd be surprised if there was any technology on earth that even came close."

 

"Are you ... even human?"  He struggled to ask.  The question probably would have been offensive in any other context, but there was something about their nakedness and intimacy that had bared their conversation as well.

 

"Yes, I'm human," she smiled warmly, arresting her vertical motion for a moment.  "But I'm enhanced, Ethan-- enhanced in seemingly countless ways.  I'm stronger than you, faster than you -- and better than you at just about anything."  She laughed, her musical voice filling the room.  So harmonious, so sultry -- it made his heart race even more.   "But don't worry," she continued, "you're not alone.   All men are inferior to me.  Take the police.  I have them running in circles down there, and they don't have a clue."

 

"What do .... do you mean?"

 

"The dudes at the bar are being arrested for DUI and grand theft, and when you show up with that shiner tomorrow, it's going to be assault as well."

 

She glanced at the ceiling for a moment, and continued, "You know, I started out tonight feeling really blue.  But honestly, I can't imagine this evening going any better.  I got to beat the shit out of some guys, got them arrested even." 

 

Vicky resumed riding slowly, up and down, up and down, the full length of his engorged shaft.  "AND I found an adorable guy -- that's you, dummy -- who can distract me from my relationship drama."  She paused to moan slightly.  "AND you can open up the whole fucking card catalog for me.  Oh god, I'm so turned on!"

 

"You and me both," Ethan struggled to reply.  "I've never felt so good!"

 

"Really?" She beamed, seeming genuinely flattered.  "That's because I'm doing things to you down there that no normal woman can do.  And you haven't seen nothin' yet."