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Spoils of Victory

By: Alex De Kok



"Hello?" Just one word, but I recognised her cool, calm tone instantly.

I took a deep breath. "Eleanor, It's Bob Allison."

"Bob Allison?" Her tone was puzzled and my heart sank, but then, "Bob! Room two-eighteen at Lake Erin Lodge, that Bob Allison?"

"The same. How are you?"

"Much better for hearing your voice." I heard a soft chuckle. "Are you, I hope, ringing me because of what I wrote on the photograph?"

"Um, yes," I said and held my breath, thinking of the words she'd written.

"Good." There was deep satisfaction in her tone. "Where and when?"

My prick jumped in my shorts. "Can you - will you - stay overnight?"

"Yes."

"Tonight, then. I've rented one of the Lodge cabins at Lake Erin for the weekend."

"Wonderful. I'll pack for the weekend. That's two nights, three if we stay Sunday."

"Are you sure?" I said, stunned, having only dared to hope for one night.

I heard her chuckle. "Absolutely positive. Which cabin?"

"Number three."

"I'll be there within the hour."

She was as good as her word, arriving in a silver Mercedes coupe driven by a dark-haired young woman. I went out to meet her as she retrieved her bag from the trunk and she moved easily into my arms for a kiss, leaning back and smiling at me as we broke apart again. She turned to wave to the driver of the Mercedes, who blew her a kiss before driving off. Eleanor was casually dressed in tight blue jeans and a loose sweater, battered sneakers on her feet, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, looking nothing like the elegant lady - no other word fitted - that I had bedded at the Lodge. Bedded because of a bet I'd had with her husband, that I could get one of the women in the room, all strangers to me, into bed within the hour and prove the matter to his satisfaction.

That it was his own wife who had been my willing companion rather added to my pleasure, for I had only taken the bet, in cold anger, because I found him easily the most obnoxious man I had ever encountered. Eleanor had her own reasons, but when I took her photograph, with her naked except for stockings, for the proof that Sheldon had demanded, she'd written on a second copy of the photo, 'I want to do this again - slowly.'

"Did you get your ten thousand dollars?" she said, a laugh in her voice.

I hesitated. After all, I had won the money from her husband by making love to her, but I nodded sheepishly. "Yes, I did. He was reluctant but there were too many witnesses to the bet."

"Good! The bastard can afford it. I'm divorcing him."

"Because of me?"

"No, Bob, because he's a slimy toad who can't keep his hands off young girls." She made a face and indicated the departing Mercedes. "Including my niece." She regarded me gravely. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"No. I met him once before that evening at the Lodge. Barely even a business acquaintance. Probably an enemy now, after - "

"After you fucked his wife," Eleanor said with a wicked grin.

I smiled at her. "I only took the bet because he really pissed me off. I'm glad I did."

She laughed. "Me, too! Best fuck I've had since high school. I want more."

"Our sleeping together won't affect your divorce, will it?"

"No. I have too much on the bastard. I just want him out of my life."

"Okay. Enough on that subject."

"Amen to that. Now where's that cabin?"

"Just along here," I said, picking up her bag.

Eleanor took my hand and we strolled along to the cabin together. "In case we might actually want to do something besides fuck, inconceivable as that may sound, do you have any plans?" she asked.

"We have the use of a boat."

"Oh, I love boats!"

"That's good. Me, too."

"Yours?"

I shook my head. "Borrowed. An old twenty-foot gaff cutter belonging to a friend of mine, Charlie Jordan."

"Would I know him?"

I grinned at her. "Depends whether you're into bikes or not. He runs Charlie's Harleys on the coast."

"In that case, no. I've never been on a motorcycle in my life."

"Like to try it sometime?"

"Yes, I think I would. There are so many things I haven't tried."

"Okay then, but that's for another time. Tonight it's cabin three at Lake Erin Lodge."

Eleanor squeezed my fingers. "It is, isn't it? I'm not in a hurry to finish, Bob, but I certainly am to get started."

"Tomorrow - " I hesitated.

"Yes?"

"I have visitors' day passes for the nudist camp on Teal Island."

She clapped her hands in delight. "Something I've always wondered about. We must go!" She grinned. "But for now, Bob dear, can we fuck?"

I grinned. "But of course, my sweet. Here we are, Cabin three." I opened the door and ushered her in. The cabins at Lake Erin are simple, but functional. Two bedrooms, one with twin beds, untouched this time, the other with a king-size double. The main room had a kitchen and diner annexe at one end and a comfortable lounge area. Eleanor headed straight for the double room.

The drapes were drawn against the late afternoon light and a cooler with a bottle of champagne stood next to the bed. Eleanor stopped and turned to me, laughing. "Is that for before, or after?"

I shrugged. "Your choice."

"After, then," she declared positively, and began to undress. I watched her, leaning against the door. Beneath the jeans and sweater she was wearing simple, functional cotton bra and panties and she grinned as she removed them. Her nipples were erect and she cupped her breasts and offered them to me, before turning back the bedcovers and slipping, naked, into the bed.

"Aren't you undressing?" she said.

I smiled and began to strip, glad to ease the constriction over my now hard erection and in a few moments I had joined her in the bed. She reached out and her fingertips stroked lightly over my face.

"This first time?"

"Yes?" I said.

"Hard and fast, Bob, to scratch the itch. Then we can take our time for the rest of the weekend."

"Sure?"

"Positive. You can probably smell me, Bob, I'm so hot and ready for you."

And I could, that rich, complicated aroma of sexually super-heated woman. Eleanor moved her legs apart and I knelt between them, my prick hard and ready and again her cool fingers guided me into her heated depths. I eased in, then out to spread her juices, then in again, my balls against her ass. Eleanor sighed deeply and squeezed down on me with her internal muscles. She stretched up and kissed me lightly.

"I worried, Bob. Were my memories of last week true, could your prick really have felt so good in my pussy? They were and it does. Welcome back, lover. Now, let's fuck!"

That first time was hot and hard, just as Eleanor had asked, and as fiercely as my prick pounded her pussy, her hips were pushing her pussy back at me. It had been a week since our first lovemaking and despite masturbating every night at the delicious memory of it, it seemed no time at all before that familiar tension began to come over me, the slow climb to the crescendo and almost-agony of climax building in me. Building in Eleanor, too, for her fingers were moving aimlessly on my back and her legs were clamped tightly on me, holding me to her, urging me into her.

I was close, very close, and opened my mouth to say something, anything, to warn her, but just as I was about to speak, to tell her that I was close, she suddenly stiffened and then her pussy clamped down on me and a hissing gasp came from her as she climaxed. I couldn't have held back then to save my life, and my own violent tremors only mirrored hers as the climax lifted us both, carried us, tumbling heedless over that mental precipice, the two of us in wordless harmony as my seed poured into her heated depths and I died the miniature death that is climax.

Slowly, slowly, we came down from our high and Eleanor's vice-like four-limbed grasp on me eased, my own fingers unclenching from their grip on the sheet beneath us. She kissed me lightly, smiling, sweat beading on her clear brow.

"Even better," she whispered.

I grinned at her. "Yep," I said, "and it's only, um, six twenty-five on a Friday evening and we're here for the weekend!"

She smiled up at me, stretched and kissed my nose. "Do we eat sometime over this weekend?"

I growled. "I'll eat you later.".

She closed her eyes for a moment and groaned, shuddering. "Yes, Bob, please eat me." Her eyes came open again and she grinned. "I'll do the same for you, Bob, honey, but I was thinking more in terms of nourishment to give us the strength to do this as often as possible."

"We have a reservation for nine, at the Lodge."

"That's only two and a half hours!" she wailed, "I need time to dress!"

"Huh?" I said, alarmed.

She grinned. "Fooled you! I'll need about five minutes to get some clothes on, that's all."

I laughed. "If you can dress for dinner in five minutes, you're a woman apart, that's for sure."

Eleanor frowned. "It's not formal, is it? I didn't bring anything."

"No, casual as you like. I would have said something, honest."

"Thought so. You're not the type to take a casually-dressed woman into a formal occasion." There was a quality to her tone that told me somebody, and I thought I knew who, had done exactly that.

Eleanor wriggled a little, and said, "Ease out, Bob, I need to pee."

I laughed, and eased my softened prick from her. She giggled. "What?" I said.

"You're running out!" She wriggled off the bed and dashed into the bathroom. She was back in five minutes and leaned against the door frame, lithe, naked, lovely, just looking at me, her hair, loose now, cascading about her shoulders. She smiled and blew me a kiss.

"If we go to Teal Island tomorrow, Eleanor, you'll be the loveliest creature there," I said.

"When, Bob, not if. I really want to see that place."

"Fancy yourself as a nudist, then?" I teased.

"Not so much that," Eleanor said thoughtfully, "so much as to see if I can be naked in public amongst not only strangers, but also people I might know." She shrugged, straightened up and came over to sit on the bed beside me. She leaned across and kissed me. "I think one or two of my acquaintances go there."

"Good looking?" I wiggled my eyebrows.

Eleanor laughed. "Better looking than me."

"Impossible! You're the loveliest creature I know."

"Bob, I'm forty-one, almost over the hill."

"Ah! An older woman for me!"

Eleanor frowned, looking doubtful and unsure of herself suddenly, her nudity making her look doubly vulnerable. "Bob, I never asked before, but how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-eight next birthday, and I like older women, especially so one particular older woman called Eleanor Sheldon." I took her hand, cupped her chin with my other hand and turned her to face me. "That Eleanor Sheldon who just shared herself with me is without a shadow of a doubt the most attractive and sensual woman I have ever encountered," I said softly.

Eleanor smiled, her face rueful. "They say an older woman should take a younger lover."

I nodded. "They, whoever they are, are dead right. Champagne, my sweet?"

Eleanor straightened, laughing, eyes bright. "Yes!"

* * * * *

Thank you for reading this far, and I hope you enjoyed my tale. Feedback is welcome, and as the only reward I get for this is your approval, please vote!

Spoils of Victory



Chapter ONE

The moment Jordin Tyler got inside her apartment, she stepped out of her high heels and began unbuttoning her blouse. In the bathroom she loosened her ponytail, setting her luxurious brunette tresses free as she tossed her blouse to the floor, revealing the lacy white bra which confined and supported her supple bosom. With a sigh, she unzipped her skirt and let it fall around her slim ankles.

At work (as a junior engineer at Hasselhoff Electronics), she had just been reassigned to a new project under Senior Engineer Clarise Strickland. This was a good thing in the sense that it enabled Jordin to keep an eye on the conniving woman; but it was not so good in the sense that Dr. Strickland was a 24-carat bitch! And that was not even counting the certain secret she held over the younger girl, one that she took every opportunity to rub her nose in! But safe in her apartment, Jordin had soon shed every stitch of clothing and was lying in a hot bath. 

"Oh, what a day!" the young woman moaned, allowing the warm soapy water to caress her supple body all over. Mmmmm that felt soooooo good! After a few minutes, she began to gently rub soap on and around her nubile breasts, enjoying the slippery feel on her satin skin as she closed her eyes...

Jordin imagined that her phone was ringing, the special red phone to which only one man had access... the direct line to the Capitol City mayor's office! She let out a soft groan as her nipples flushed under her fingertips, sending a tingly sensation directly to her thighs. Normally that sound meant trouble for her superheroine alter ego. Tonight it meant something different.

"Victory here," she whispered to herself, letting her hands slide down between her legs. "What can I do for you?"

"Victory! Thank goodness!" she imagined the Mayor's response, hearing his vibrant, masculine voice clearly. "I need you immediately!"

In real life the very sound of his voice sent Jordin's pulse to beating faster, no less so at this moment, even though it was just her imagination. Just thinking of his strong arms and broad chest made her pussy quiver with suppressed longing...

"You need me? Immediately?" she moaned, her nipples hardening as her fingers moved delicately in between the moist folds of her labia, teasing and coaxing. "That m-m-might be a little tricky, sir." Considering that the mighty Victory happens to be naked as a jaybird right now, she thought, blushing like a schoolgirl.

"Can't you drop whatever you're doing?" she imagined his insistent rumble. "For me?"

Ooooh his voice was like honey, doing the tango across her libido! Lifting one long, lovely leg out of the bath, Jordin lay back further, playing with her submerged slit, stroking herself into a blissful state of arousal. 

"Yes! Mr. Mayor, I'll do anything for you...and your fair city..."

"This time, it'd be more for me...just me," he went on in her mind. "But I assure you this is urgent!"

"Oh I b-bet it issss," Jordin hissed, her eyes fluttering as she lay back in the bathtub. "I mean... it's a very... s-serious situation, sir," she gasped, her heart pounding, breath coming faster and faster as she began to get closer to climax.

"I need you to come...quickly!"

"Believe me, I'm trying as hard as I can!" Jordin sighed.

Suddenly a sound cut sharply through her fantasy, causing her eyes to snap open. It was her real phone, the red cell. Flustered, she leaned over to extract her phone from her clothes with her free arm, then touched the speakerphone button.

"Y-yes, Mr. Mayor...?"

The mayor spoke, his voice resonating even more sweetly in reality. "Victory, I'll get straight to the point. The Centurion has just broken into the City Museum!"

Jordin moaned out loud, her excitement coupled with his actual voice nearly making her cum, but her concentration and thus the fantasy shattered all at once like a crystal vase at the sound of the supervillain's name; Centurion!

"Victory?" the mayor asked. "Victory, are you all right?"

"That... ahem!... does sound like an emergency," Jordin continued breathlessly. "I'll be right there." She quickly reached over to her smartphone to break the connection.

Jordin snatched up a towel and rose dripping from her bath, unable to help thinking about the Centurion. She had met the supervillain in battle several times before with less than stellar results.

Once she had patted herself dry, Jordin bent over and put on a pair of silver bracelets. A simple banging of the two magical items brought a blinding flash of light and Jordin had become VICTORY! Her statuesque body was perfectly dry and now clad in her superheroine uniform; purple Lycra hot pants, the garment clinging around her tight, peach-like ass. With a matching purple halter top, its bold silver "V" emblem proudly riding over her ample bust. Silver knee boots and a purple mask completed the look.

With a sassy toss of her long hair, Jordin stood admiring her lean, sexy form in the mirror while she adjusted the silver power belt on her hips, checking the newly installed locking mechanism on the buckle. She had developed the tiny device to make it practically impossible for anyone but her to remove the powerbelt, which (embarrassing as it was) happened from time to time. Having completed her transformation into Capitol City's most powerful superheroine, the amazing Victory headed swiftly out the door! 

"Better be on your guard, Centurion!" she practically snarled. "I'm coming for you!"

THE SUN was just beginning to set as a unique custom-built motorcycle arrived in front of Capitol City's Honeywell Museum. Bystanders on the street stared with awe at the beautiful young woman astride the big machine, her long brunette tresses blowing behind her like a banner, her sumptuous body clad only in a clingy, two piece costume, with a mask to conceal her true identity. Though everybody knew this image very well! Without a pause, Victory slipped her delectable round booty from the seat of the Victorycycle, her silver boots taking the steps of the museum two at a time.

Several reporters and gawkers were milling about in the entrance hall, but the stunning superheroine strode past them all, haughtily ignoring the interested looks her tempting feminine curves were getting from the males in the crowd. Past the information desk, the east wing was cordoned off by yellow Crime Scene tape. Two uniformed policemen stopped her at this point, their eyes roaming over her daringly revealing costume. 

"Sorry, ma'am," said the taller of the two. "You'll have to submit to a search."

"You've got to be kidding me," Victory smirked, cocking her desirable hips and imperiously thrusting out her wonderful bust. "Surely you boys don't think that I'm concealing anything dangerous in this outfit?"

The other one licked his lips as he stared at the lovely superlady's gorgeous C-cups, straining like a pair of ripe honeydew melons against the fabric of her halter top with its silver "V" emblem. "Orders, ma'am. We have to frisk you..."

The superheroine's smirk began to fade. She liked to keep things light, knowing that CCPD weren't her biggest supporters (no one likes someone who does their job better than they do) but she had no intention of letting these officers put their grubby hands on her. They knew who she was, who had sent her and that she wasn't concealing anything! Luckily a familiar voice intervened.

"That won't be necessary, Watkins," said Detective Sasha Cortez sternly. The gorgeous Latina wore a gray linen skirt and blazer over a cream-colored silk blouse. She scowled at the two officers as she lifted the yellow tape to let the superheroine through. "Victory, I'm so glad you're here! This way please."

The high heels of the two women echoed as they strode along the Hall of Statuary.

"Thank you for coming, Victory," Cortez said. "I knew you'd be interested, because you've clashed with the Centurion before."

Victory hid a flash of trepidation at that statement. Her previous "clash's" with Centurion hadn't exactly ended in her favor. The superheroine pushed those thoughts from her mind, Cortez had no way to know that...with the exception of circulating if unproven rumors of him carrying her off after a brief fight at a mall.

"This time I'm afraid he's made off with the Izimir Venus!" the Latina explained.

"Great Scott!" Victory gasped. She knew it well by reputation. A nearly life size ivory statue of the Roman goddess, it was on loan from the Kingdom of Magristan, which led to another complication. "This is heavy! Ambassador Jafar will be furious! But how can you be sure it was the Centurion?"

"He left a message," Cortez smiled delicately. "With your name on it."

They arrived at an empty pedestal surrounded by various security devices which had obviously been of no avail. Waiting for instructions were the curator, a couple of security guards, two police patrolmen, and three men from forensics. On the pedestal was a small bronze cylinder approximately a foot and a half long. It felt heavy in Victory's hand as she picked it up. Inscribed in the metal was the following message: "From The Centurion. To be opened only by Victory."

"We've tried to open it, naturally," Cortez said. "But the cap won't budge."

"If I can be of assistance..." the museum curator stepped forward.

"I hardly think so, Mr. Howe," Victory balked, arching one flawless eyebrow haughtily. "Everyone just stand back and leave this to me. Obviously it could be dangerous."

As the eight men backed away to a safe distance, Det. Cortez stayed close. The spunky superheroine smirked (Men!) then used her super strength to unscrew the cap on the cylinder, allowing a small scroll to fall out. She passed the cylinder to Cortez, who leaned closer to read the scroll along with her.

"The Izimir Venus now rests in the hands of one who can truly appreciate her beauty. And yet my triumph rings hollow. Because I remember so well the sweet spoils of Victory, I give her this chance to redeem the stolen Venus, assuming she has the spine for it. I now go to procure a matching bauble for my goddess. Follow me if you dare."

Sasha gave the cylindrical case another inspection, suddenly the opened mouth began to exude a dense cloud of greenish, bitter tasting smoke! Victory instantly clamped both hands across her nose and mouth. 

"Get back, Sasha! Knowing the Centurion, it's probably..."

"It's not sleep gas," the Latina coughed, having inadvertently gotten a lungful. "It's more like... My CLOTHES!" 

The mist had settled like dew onto her blazer and skirt. There was a faint sizzling sound as the fabric of her jacket simply dissolved away, followed just as quickly by her thin silk blouse! Her gun and badge, both clipped to the waistband of her skirt, thumped to the marble floor at her feet as that garment also disappeared, leaving the curvaceous detective in nothing but her sheer black panties and black lacy bra! 

"Caramba!" she gasped. "VICTORY! Get away, quickly!"

The warning came too late. The sassy superheroine gaped in stunned disbelief as her skimpy Lycra hot pants evaporated before her very eyes, leaving only the plain white thong she wore underneath! There was absolutely nothing she could do! The super girl let out a strangled "EEK!" as the mist ate away her halter top just as it had her hot pants! For a moment, her delicious breasts hung naked in the cool air of the statuary, their pink nipples in full view! Her emerald green eyes wide as dinner plates, the young heroine quickly cupped her hands over her exposed boobs, embarrassment roiling through her like a tidal wave.

The curator and the other men murmured excitedly despite themselves, huge grins spread on their faces as they gawked at the two half-naked women. Their eyes devouring Victory's peach-like ass, not to mention the sweet V shape between her thighs. Likewise they drank in the gorgeous curves and full round booty of the Latina detective. Meanwhile, frozen in a state of shock, everything seemed in slow motion to the two bared women and they shared a brief glance of utter humiliation.

"Are you sure you don't require any assistance?" Mr. Howe snickered, gawking at Victory's magnificent bazoongas as the superheroine struggled to conceal her chest, blushing like a rose. The other men moved forward, surrounding the women and feasting their eyes on their nubile feminine bodies.

"Keep back!" Cortez glared, regaining her composure. "You two, quickly handover your shirts!"

Two officers started to protest, then realized they were being given an order by their superior; still they made no rush in unbuttoning and handing over their uniform shirts, underneath both had white tank tops and Kevlar vests to cover them. Det. Cortez snatched the shirts angrily, draping one over Victory's shoulders before donning the other herself.

"You all oughta be ashamed of yourselves," she snapped, her accent growing thicker as her anger grew. As a stream of Spanish swears and curses followed, the men all realized their crassness and could not help but look down sheepishly. Oblivious, the superheroine gratefully slipped her arms through the sleeves of the shirt, still her cheeks were burning with embarrassment. 

"I'll GET you for this, Centurion!" she hissed under her breath.

Chapter TWO

As dusk was falling, a powerful, athletic man wearing a white tunic and Roman armor gently lowered himself through an open skylight on a thin black cable into a large, sumptuously furnished library. Unhooking the end of the cable from his weapons belt, he let the reel dangle as he looked around in the dim light, hazel eyes narrowing as he focused on a display case containing an enormous ruby. He took a few moments to disable the security and open the case, then smiled broadly as he reached in to gently grasp the beautiful red gemstone... Suddenly his moment of triumph was interrupted as the French doors leading to the rose garden burst open with a crash! 

"I'd put that back if I were you, Centurion!" said an arrogant female voice.

The man glanced around to see a pair of spectacular legs striding towards him. Drinking in every inch, his eyes followed them upwards to a lean, lissome body clad in purple Lycra hot pants and matching halter. 

"Victory!" he smiled, touching the hilt of the short sword hanging from his belt so that its blade rose slowly upright in a suggestive way. "I'm pleased to see you, as always. But how did you guess where I'd be?"

"A bauble to adorn a goddess?" the sexy superlady smirked, giving her hastily-donned spare uniform a little tug. "It had to be the Heart of Jullana ruby here at the Magristani Embassy."

"Not bad for a girl," the Centurion replied, carefully setting the ruby down on the floor. Then he drew a short wooden rod from his belt and charged.

Victory couldn't help admiring the fluid grace of his muscular body as he bore down on her, she had almost forgotten how handsome he was...but this was no time to get distracted. Gracefully she blocked his weapon with her left bracelet, following through with her right fist. To her dismay, the Centurion sidestepped, catching the young heroine off balance and using her own momentum to spin her around and send her tumbling helplessly across the armrest of a nearby sofa. The next thing she knew, she was sprawled flat on her back with the impertinent villain on top, straddling her.

"This is very nice," he said with a grin, pinning both wrists above her head as he gazed down at her lovely bust, rising and falling under the skin tight Lycra top.

"Get off of me!" Victory hissed.

The heroine struggled to push upward with her hips to dislodge him, but in this position he had all the leverage. He leaned closer, his hazel eyes locked with her green orbs, his face hovering only inches from hers. A sudden rush of desire assaulted the heroine, as memories of his body taking hers, of the powerful orgasms he forced upon her, flashed through her mind. As she was distracted his right hand briefly copped a feel of her left breast, squeezing the firm flesh through the fabric of her uniform, then moving downward along the curve of her abdomen, softly tracing the silky bare skin of her ribcage...then quickly sliding over the outside of her hot pants to grab the soft V between her thighs!

"Hey...OH!" the superheroine gasped in surprise as Centurion immediately began to knead her prim mound. Her slim hips involuntarily bucked further into his grip as her green eyes widened and began to roll back into her head. Unwelcome tingles danced across her pelvis and thighs running all the way down to her toes and making them instantly numb.

Victory bit her bottom lip delicately, stifling a moan and willing herself back to her senses. Focusing her super strength she bucked again this time easily pushing him off of her. This was not a romantic encounter, this was a very real fight with a bonafide super villain! The two of them rolled across the hardwood floor in a tangle of grappling arms and legs, until the stunning heroine's superhuman strength got the upper hand. Rising to her feet, she hauled the Centurion upright by the front of his tunic, feeling his hands lightly exploring her trim waist.

"If you're trying to unlatch my powerbelt," Victory smirked, "you're wasting your time. I got tired of lowlifes like you taking it away from me, so I installed a locking mechanism."

"You think of everything," he said. "Still, where there is a will, there is a way."

Victory raised one exquisite eyebrow. "Obviously you're not smart enough to realize when you're beaten, Centurion."

"Perhaps not," the supervillain replied. "But then, unlike you, I WAS smart enough NOT to come in through the door and trigger the silent alarms."

"What does that have to do with--?"

Just then the oak doors at the other end of the library were flung open as two Magristani security guards appeared, waving guns and shouting unintelligibly in Arabic. While the spunky superheroine was distracted, the Centurion grasped both sides of her power belt and shoved it downward over her narrow hips.

"NO!" Victory gasped as her precious belt (still latched) slid over the smooth Lycra fabric of her hot pants and down her long, alluring legs to the floor.

The Centurion's arms immediately snaked around the sassy superheroine's slim waist, cupping her round little butt with his hands as he swept her upward into his embrace. Deprived of her super powers, Victory had no hope of resisting. 

"No... you can't..." she protested, as his lips forced themselves over her mouth in a hard kiss.

Victory's eye-lids fluttered as his tongue penetrated her glossed lips and intermingled with her own. Heat was surging through her, blood pounded in her ears and her skin tingled all over as her soft body surrendered against his, seemingly of its own volition. On her tiptoes, supported in his powerful arms, her ankles stepped out of the circle of her power belt without her being aware of it. A gentle moan quivered in her throat, feeling his erection rise up, so hard and thick against her succulent cleft, making her pussy moist, almost aching to be filled by him...

Dimly she was aware that the security guards had fallen silent, advancing slowly while still holding guns on the two of them. The Centurion abruptly disengaged from the kiss and despite herself Victory licked her lips, savoring the lingering taste of his saliva.

"I apologize in advance, Sweet Enchantress," the Centurion whispered in her ear, "but right now I need a distraction..." With one fluid movement, he unhooked Victory's halter top and peeled the garment off, at the same time giving her body a push. "...And you make one Hell of a distraction!"

"NO!" Victory squealed, her exquisite breasts bobbing in full view (again) as she stumbled helplessly into the hands of the two security guards. "Don't!"




Spoils of Victory



The nearest guard dropped his gun in surprise, finding his hands unexpectedly occupied with a pair of firm but supple titties. The heroine immediately tried to go after Centurion but the guard kept a firm grasp, and Victory found herself pulled back to him by her plump boobs. His hands instantly seemed to begin fondling her vulnerable melons, drawing an indignant gasp from the heroine.

"By the Twin Hills of Shalimar!" he blurted in English. "It is a WOMAN!"

"How very perceptive of you!" the cocky superheroine snapped, pushing against his shoulders while the second man gave her a toothy grin. "Get your hands off of me!"

The second guard stepped in to assist his compatriot with the struggling girl. Did they think SHE was trying to steal the ruby!? She tried to wrench free, but the two burly men were able to get ahold of her arms with one hand. Without her super strength this seemed more than enough to restrain the young woman. Meanwhile their free hands fumbled about her chest. Admittedly the heroine could not tell if their groping was intentional or just the result of her struggles, however neither man seemed shy in grabbing handfuls of her firm round breasts!

"I can see that you're busy, Victory," the Centurion said flippantly, picking up the Heart of Jullana and dashing back to where his grapple line was still hanging. "Don't bother seeing me to the door. Until we meet again..." He clipped the power reel to his belt and activated it, vanishing back up through the skylight.

While her quarry got away, again, the young heroine found herself wrestled to the ground.

"Unhand me!" Victory pleaded, squirming helplessly in the hands of the security guards. "Thanks to you, the Centurion's getting away!"

Then one big hand clamped down over her mouth, silencing any further protest. Victory was now easily overpowered by the two men; her arms were drawn behind her and firmly pinioned together by a muscular arm. She could feel a hand groping her firm booty as if patting her down for weapons, even as her legs flailed uselessly. Whimpering with hapless frustration, the subdued heroine was lifted back to her feet. One guard held her firmly, one arm having captured both her own, the other securely hand gagging her. Panic boiled in her stomach, without her powers she had no hope of fighting these two and what liberties might two Magristani soldiers take with what they thought was a sexy American jewel thief they'd caught?

"Oh Beauteous One," the other guard moaned, licking his lips greedily as he now reached out to stroke her bottom. "You must be one of those tasty American underwear models we hear so much about."

"AHMED! HASSAN! RELEASE HER AT ONCE!" said a commanding voice. The two guards instantly let go of the superheroine as a tall man in a turban and scarlet robes strode gracefully into the library. He scowled over his pointed beard. 

"Ambassador Jafar!" Victory gasped, cupping her hands around her bust.

"I have just spoken with Mr. Howe," Jafar frowned, glancing at the empty display case. "He was informing me that the Izimir Venus has been stolen. And now the Heart of Jullana is missing??" His beady eyes looked Victory up and down. "You must be the invincible American superheroine he was telling me about?" 

Having scrambled to recover her halter and belt, Victory now stood pressing the purple garment over her naked chest. She gave the ambassador a blushing grin. 

"Yes...um, that's me..." she replied sheepishly. "Could you excuse me for just a moment to, um, put my clothes back on...?"

The Ambassador frowned down at her, making the superheroine feel very small. His right eyebrow twitched. "This is most...disappointing!"

Chapter THREE

The Victorycycle roared through the night, zig-zagging through traffic as its sexy, purple-clad rider enjoyed the way the powerful metal machine throbbed between her smooth thighs. That was TWICE in the same night the Centurion had not only slipped through her fingers but left her in a uniquely humiliating position, once in front of Ambassador Jafar himself! When she caught up to him...

A ringtone chimed in Victory's earphone. The superheroine looked down at the vidscreen mounted in between the handlebars and saw the face of Sasha Cortez. "Victory here," she said. "What news, Sasha?"

"I just heard what happened at the embassy," the pretty Latina sighed.

Victory lifted one aristocratic eyebrow. "I would have captured the Centurion if those stupid MEN hadn't distracted me and gotten in my way!"

"Of course," Cortez replied. "Look, I've just been contacted by a Mr. Gordon Malcolm who says he may have an idea where the Centurion will strike next. Do you want to follow it up with me?

Victory frowned. Gordon Malcolm... There was something about that name... She shrugged it off. "It's not as if we have any other leads. Text me the address, and I'll meet you there."

The address, 1151 Cleary Place, was an old two-story brick factory building that had been converted to apartments. Victory had just parked the Victorycycle and dismounted when Cortez' car arrived. As she got out of her car, the superheroine couldn't help raising an eyebrow. The pretty detective was wearing a pink short sleeved shirt and over it a racy pleated miniskirt of deep purple and black velvet, with a satin ribbon crisscrossing the front tied in a bow. 

"It was the only other thing I had in my locker, OK?" she said defensively.

"I didn't say a word," Victory smirked.

The women went inside the building and climbed the iron staircase to the second floor, where they found the door to apartment 2A ajar. Cortez drew her Glock and flattened against the doorframe as Victory burst through the open doorway, ready for anything.

What they found was the apartment of a bookworm, and one which had just been thoroughly ransacked. And the perpetrators were still there... four of the Centurion's henchmen, dressed in white trousers and tunics cut in the style of Roman soldiers!

"What have we here?" Victory said, planting her hands on her shapely hips. "You boys know the drill. Where can I find your master? Don't make me have to beat it out of you!"

"Just try it, superchick!" said one of the thugs, as all four of them drew wooden truncheons from their belts and charged.

Moving like lightning, the sassy superheroine blocked their clumsy blows with her silver bracelets, her supple body flowing with uncanny agility as she caught one by the wrist and flipped him over her, then lashed out with a graceful kick at the next one. The remaining pair, almost mesmerized by the smooth curve of her lovely tush, jumped her a fraction of a second too late as she spun back around, grabbed them, and flung them out the door into the hallway.

"Well now," Victory smirked, cocking her hips and brushing her hands smugly, "are you guys going to be reasonable?"

"Screw this," muttered one of the thugs, as all four of them scrambled to their feet and fled. But instead of going down the narrow staircase, they turned and bolted through a big sliding fire door at the end of the corridor.

"Come on, Sasha, we have to catch them!" Victory said, her long legs eating up the corridor as she followed right on their tails. On the other side of the door, Victory and Cortez found themselves inside a huge, warehouse-sized storage room, where the four men disappeared into in a maze of packing crates. The women silently separated, Sasha going left while the spunky superheroine kept going down a straight, narrow aisle in between tall stacks of crates.

Victory emerged into an open space where two of the thugs were waiting for her with their backs to the brick wall, with no escape. 

"Looks like the end of the road for you guys," the heroine said, planting her lean, elegant legs with an arrogant smirk. "I'll ask this one more time. Where's your master?"

"Right here," said the Centurion, suddenly appearing between two crates off to the right. 

He was holding a crossbow, about the size of a rifle. He took aim and pulled the trigger. Victory almost laughed, her enhanced reflexes and indestructible bracelets could stop bullets but he was attacking her with a crossbow? The superheroine brought both wrists up before her to deflect the shot, as it flew though the arrow seemed to separate, becoming two, connected by a length of silvery chain... Not an arrow, a bolo! Before Victory knew what hit her, the weighted ends had wrapped the chain around her alluring body several times, pinning her arms to her sides! 

"Hey! What the...!" Dismayed (and a little impressed) the heroine scowled at her nemesis, flexing against the binding chain, which seemed inordinately strong.

The two henchmen pounced on the gorgeous supergirl, grinning as they grabbed hold of her. Victory head-butted one, knocking him for a loop, then brought her right leg around in a spinning back kick to the second thug's stomach. But the next thing she knew, the Centurion's strong hands had seized her from behind, encircling her lissome waist as he captured her, holding her body trapped and helpless against him so that without the use of her arms, she couldn't break free. 

"Get your hands off of me!" Victory sputtered, heat rising to her face as she struggled desperately in her bonds. "Let me out of this!"

The Centurion laughed. "Why should I do a foolish thing like that?" he said. "This chain is made of titanium, so I don't think even you can break it." His face leaned in closer, his lips almost to her ear. "Besides, Sweet Enchantress, I rather enjoy having my hands on you. Don't you?"

"Nnnoo..." 

Victory felt a quiver of arousal run through her body as his hands moved upwards along her torso, gently exploring the rounded shapes of her breasts through the clingy Lycra of her uniform. The nubile young heroine hissed with pleasure as his fingers tightened on her nipples, pinching their hard little bullet shapes. Her green eyes fluttered behind her mask as she squirmed against his muscular frame, trying desperately to resist. Once again she felt his manhood throbbing stiff and rigid against her thigh, making her pussy moist and wet with surrender as her tight little butt rubbed up and down. 

"Please no..." she gasped, "please... please don't..."

Just then the other two henchmen who had waylaid and disarmed Sasha Cortez arrived, carrying the pretty detective in between them. Her blouse had been ripped open, showing a glimpse of her black lacy bra, and her tiny velvet miniskirt swirled around her silky thighs as she resisted like a wildcat. 

"Victory!" she cried in disbelief. "Not you too!" In a moment of despair the Latina ceased her struggles.

Ashamed the defeated heroine let her head droop. How could she have let this happen, now they were both the captives of the Centurion!

Chapter FOUR

"What have you done with Gordon Malcolm?" Sasha Cortez growled. 

The pretty Latina was perched on one of the flat packing crates, her wrists and ankles bound with rope. The mighty Victory was trussed up beside her, only in her case with titanium chains around her body and her ankles.

"There actually IS no Gordon Malcolm," the Centurion seemed oddly perturbed. "A harmless fiction to lure you into my clutches, detective. Unfortunately, I did not count on Victory coming with you. My plans will now have to be altered."

The superheroine could have kicked herself! Of course! He had used the alias Malcolm Gordon before! For a fleeting moment, she even wondered if either of them were his real name. 

"Now that you have me," she said out loud, "let Detective Cortez go!"

"I don't think so, Enchantress," the supervillain laughed, "unless you have some means of guaranteeing that she won't come running back with a lot of policemen..."

"I'd say it's a guarantee that I WOULD!" Sasha spat.

"Of course," Centurion seemed lost in thought. "What to do, what to do...If I leave you here undoubtedly you'll escape a prove a fly in the ointment...however having to keep a constant watchful eye should prove equally distracting." Now he turned to the two women was a look a complete frustration. "Like all women you have the innate knack of ruining the best laid plans."

"How about a contest?" Victory proposed. "If I lose, we both agree to remain here and not try to escape. If I win, you surrender." She paused, a flirtatious look on her face. "Unless of course you're afraid that a mere girl would beat you..."

The Centurion looked up. The four henchmen stirred uneasily. "You intrigue me, Enchantress," he said. "As long as you have that power belt, I can't match your superhuman strength. And without it, you can't match my fighting ability. A contest, a game, would solve everything. Would poker suit you?"

"It would suit me fine."

Beside her, Cortez was squirming frantically in her bonds. "Victory," she hissed, "are you sure about this?"

"It's agreed then," the Centurion decided, as he came over and unfastened the titanium chain that held the superheroine helpless. As the bonds fell off her, he took Victory's hands and helped her to her feet. "The game is over when one of us has lost his... or her entire stake."

"Er... but what will we use for chips?" Victory said, glancing down at her costume. "I don't carry money around in this outfit. No pockets."

"We use our clothing as chips."

"You mean STRIP poker?" she gasped, her cheeks reddening slightly. 

The four henchmen began to murmur excitedly.

"Naturally," the Centurion said. "Unless you're afraid I'll beat you."

"I'm afraid of nothing," Victory said, proudly thrusting out her marvelous bust. Out the corner of her eye, she saw the henchmen almost drooling with anticipation. "Only... can you send your lackeys away? I have my secret identity to think about."

The supervillain leaned closer, so that his hazel eyes were looking directly into her green orbs. "Jordin Tyler," he whispered, "they're MEN! When you start losing your shirt, do you really think they're going to be looking at your FACE?" 

Victory felt her cheeks flush crimson, certain that standing as close as he was, he could feel the heat.

The thugs quickly brought out a card table and two chairs, setting them in the middle of the square space, while they retreated to ringside seats on the crates. The Centurion shuffled the cards and dealt out two hands. 

"The game is five card draw. No wilds."

Victory's hand trembled as she picked up her cards. She had two kings, a queen, a four and deuce. She discarded the latter two, and the Centurion dealt her two more. Her heart thumped with joy... a six and another queen!

Smiling, she reached down with one hand to stroke her ankle. "I bet my right boot."

"Things that come in pairs are a set," the Centurion objected. "They both count as one wager."

"No they don't!" Victory replied. "They're individual items!"

The villain shrugged. "I see your bet with by left boot. And raise my right boot AND my helmet."

Frowning, Victory glanced at her cards again. "I'll see your bet with my left boot and my left bracelet," she said, laying down her cards. "Two pair, kings and queens."

The Centurion revealed his own cards... three sevens! Her heart sank. The men all leaned closer as Victory unzipped her boots and took them off, adding her bracelet. The Centurion gently picked up her high heeled boots, stroking the silvery leather for a second, then quickly swept his winnings off the table, piling them on the floor within easy reach.

"Beginner's luck," Victory grumbled, nervously rubbing her bare feet and ankles together underneath the table and wondering how she had let herself get talked into this.

The next hand, the Centurion opened with his helmet. Victory responded with her right bracelet, then reluctantly raised with her hot pants. Her opponent called her bet with his weapons belt, and to her instant relief...her trio of nines won!

Feeling a little more confident, the sassy superheroine picked up her next five cards and looked them over. Another measly two pair... queens and eights. She discarded her nine and got back an ace, no help there. She wagered her right bracelet. He responded his breastplate, then raised the bet with both his boots.

Chewing her bottom lip, Victory bet her hot pants, regretting now that she had insisted on counting pairs of garments as separate items. She needed one more item to match his bet, but with the henchmen watching, she didn't want to risk losing either her mask or her halter top. That left only ... ulp!

"I'll b-bet by power belt," she said shakily. "Call!"

The Centurion revealed a straight... five, six, seven, eight, and nine.

Victory gasped. With a sinking sensation in her stomach, she unfastened her power belt and dropped it on the table, knowing that she was now completely vulnerable, just an ordinary girl surrounded by a decidedly unsavory bunch of men! 

Adding her bracelet to the pile, she stood up and slipped her fingers into the waist of her hot pants. Feeling the heat rise again to her high boned cheeks, she glanced over at Centurion's henchmen. The men grinned lecherously, the superheroine had no choice, she slid the sexy Lycra garment off and threw it on the table, quickly sitting back down so that they wouldn't linger on the plain white thong she wore underneath.

She squirmed as she watched the Centurion smugly sweep her garments away from her, including her invincible power belt!

Chapter FIVE

Victory squirmed uncomfortably in her seat, reduced to nothing but her mask, halter top and thong panties. Curling one smooth, silken leg underneath her, she looked across the table at her opponent. The Centurion was calm and infuriatingly confident, as well he might be since all he had lost so far were his helmet and weapons belt.

The beautiful young superheroine picked up the cards he had dealt and her heart fell. All she had was a pair of tens! Delicately biting her lip, she agonized whether to bet her mask or her halter top, then decided on her mask.

The Centurion matched her bet with his breastplate, then with a smirk, raised with his tunic! Victory gave him a pleading look, her frustration clear in the pouty expression. Eventually she called with her halter top.

Her opponent sighed and flipped over his cards. Nothing! His high card was a King, followed by a seven, a six, a four and an ace, so her humble pair of tens won! Victory felt a surge of excitement race up her spine as she watched the Centurion remove his breastplate, then wriggle out of his tunic, revealing his manly chest!

"I guess I'm just too good for you," Victory smiled as she raked in her winnings, beginning to feel as if she might have a chance after all.

"Time to stop beating around the bush, Enchantress," the Centurion said as he shuffled the deck. "The next game is five card stud. We bet on each card as it comes up." 

He quickly dealt each of them one card face down, and a second card face up. Victory's was a Queen of hearts. His was a King of diamonds.

The supervillain had the high card, but declined to wager. This was just as well, since as that point Victory probably would have folded. The third cards were dealt: a king of spades for the Centurion and an ace of hearts for Victory. He wagered his left boot, which she matched with her halter top.

Their fourth cards were respectively an ace of clubs and a two of hearts. Victory felt her heart beginning to pound with excitement. All of cards so far were hearts! If her luck only held, she could beat her opponent's pair of kings! When he wagered his other boot, she felt confident enough to match it with her mask without a tremor of misgiving.

The fifth cards... the Centurion got a second ace, the ace of spades, while Victory... breath catching excitedly in her throat... drew the Jack of hearts!

The Centurion, now with two pair showing, made a show of looking around his side of the table. Victory's boots, bracelets, power belt and hot pants were at his side within easy reach. As for his own equipment, he was down to his shorts and his boots, which he had already wagered. He favored her with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin as he wagered his shorts.




Spoils of Victory



Underneath her mask Victory's beautiful face turned scarlet. Even if she held the winning hand, she only had one garment left! 

"I see your bet with my p-panties," she breathed. With an arrogant smirk, she smugly flipped over her hold card, revealing a seven of hearts. "And I believe the expression is Read Them And Weep!" She had the Flush!

Her opponent slumped back in his chair. The Centurion slowly shook his head as he reached forward for his own hold card. "You're perfectly right, Victory." His last card was a third ace, the ace of hearts, giving him a Full House!

Victory's smug look of triumph abruptly vanished as it dawned on her that she had lost!

"Now let us see what you're REALLY holding," the Centurion gloated. "If you take my meaning..."

She could literally FEEL the weight of six pairs of eyes on her... those of the Centurion, the four henchmen, and Sasha Cortez. Her entire body seemed to be hot, turning a delicate shade of red as she carefully unfastened her halter top and put it on the table. The men whistled as they finally got a good look at her spectacular boobs. True to the Centurion's prediction, they hardly noticed as she took off her mask.

Her pussy lips suddenly felt slippery and wet with anticipation. Hands trembling, the stunning superheroine reached under the table, where she awkwardly tugged her teeny tiny thong panties over her narrow hips, down her long, alluring legs and over her slim ankles. With a shudder of embarrassment, she straightened up again and added them to the pot, now as naked as the day she was born!

The Centurion immediately picked up her thong, caressing the skimpy scrap of damp nylon as he held it to his nose, savoring the musky aroma of her intimate places. Victory blushed even more deeply.

The four henchmen were cheering like maniacs as the young heroine sat there feeling small and utterly helpless, too stunned to even cover herself. Sasha struggled desperately against her ropes, squirming with embarrassment at the thought of Victory's humiliatingly thorough defeat and wondering what the Centurion and his men had in mind for the two of them now that they were both completely powerless!

"Hey!" the superheroine suddenly cried. "Since when does a deck of cards have TWO aces of hearts?" 

Realizing that she had been royally rooked, Victory made a grab for her power belt, but the Centurion was too fast for her. He seized her wrists, quickly lashing them together with some cord and pulling her slender naked frame irresistibly into his arms.

"I thought you were a man of your word!" Victory fumed, struggling uselessly.

"Jordin, my minx... with the prospect of your sweet pussy dangling in front of me, what did you expect me to do, play fair?" Abruptly his right hand swept under her knees as he scooped her into his arms.

"Put me down!" Victory squeaked, feeling like a helpless little girl as her legs kicked and her fists thumped impotently against his chest in ineffectual feminine protest. "You can't treat me like this! I'm a superheroine!"

"Uh... commander," said one of the henchmen hesitantly. "What shall we do with Detective Cortez?"

The Centurion paused in the doorway with Victory in his grasp, looking back at Sasha's frightened, pleading face. "Enjoy her," he said simply, "as I plan to enjoy the spoils of Victory!"

Sasha Cortez felt a lump in her throat as she watched Victory being carried away, helpless in the arms of the Centurion. Then her entire body seemed to ripple with goosebumps as she looked up at the villain's henchmen, an unmistakable gleam in their eyes. Being a beautiful woman, Sasha was no stranger to lustful glances, sometimes they could even be flattering... but this time it made her blood run cold. 

Chapter SIX

"Now w-w-wait just a minute," she said, trying to keep her voice from quivering. "I'm a police detective!"

"Why don't you read us our rights?" said one of the men, grinning.

Then four pairs of male hands were all over her, touching and grabbing, her legs, her arms, her torso, her nice round booty, lifting her off the packing crate and to her surprise untying her wrists and ankles. The men set her on her feet, forming a tight circle around her. Sasha blushed a little as she caught them staring at her tiny pleated miniskirt. She felt no excitement at being freed, realizing instantly that even with her training this fight would likely not end in her favor. She could tell from the looks on their faces, these men had come to the same conclusion. Sasha shied away from the three in front of her, inadvertently backing right into the fourth. She immediately felt his hands reaching towards her breasts, grabbing her shirt and ripping it the rest of the way open in a spray of buttons! As the pretty detective looked down at the exposed lace of her bra, her assailant hooked both her arms pulling them behind her back. As he did she could feel his massive hard on growing against her round butt cheek. The others began to undo their belts, eagerly dropping their trousers. 

"Oh no! No... please..." She whimpered, struggling against his restraining arms. "You'll regret this!"

Then they were on her like a pack of wolves. One in front savagely tore open her bra and peeled it back from her plump D-cup breasts. Then he reached out, massaging her sweet melons and leaning down to suck at her nipples. Sasha closed her eyes, holding back a dismayed moan as unpleasant tingles danced over her torso. Suddenly weak in the knees, she sagged into the grasp of the man behind her. Another of the thugs lifted her skirt and grabbed the soft "v" between her shapely thighs. 

"Ohhhhmama...don't!" Sasha hissed, trying to resist the sensation as he began to massage her pussy. "Madre a Dios..."

"Hold on, hold on...look out!" said the one holding her arms.

Suddenly Sasha felt herself spun around and shoved face first over the card table. Quickly the rest of the thugs fell on top of her, holding her in place. Kicking her shapely legs, feeling the revealing flutter of her short skirt, Sasha realized what situation she was in. A shudder of fear rolled up her spine feeling hands squeezing and fondling her firm, Latin booty making her squirm.

"Take a look at that!" one of them whistled softly.

"Reminds you of J-lo don't it," another laughed. "Dat ass is just made for fuckin'!"

Fear suddenly clutched at detective Cortez, she had never let any man do THAT before...now how would she stop these thugs?

"Damn I love these Latin sluts!"

At least two different sets of hands were under her skirt by then, tugging at her panties, ripping them off in a near frenzy to get at her virgin rear end. She could feel rough fingers wiggling into the soft folds of her labia, and Sasha shook her head, trying to deny the arousal that rolled up her abdomen. Feeling her body begin to betray her, the detective bit back a moan.

"Let me go!" she squealed helplessly. 

"I love her accent, don't you?" The one behind her said as he spread her ass cheeks and plunged his cock into the tight hole between!

"Hijo de Puta!" Sasha groaned feeling the thug slip in her backdoor. Her body shuddered in pain, and she involuntarily bucked against his insistent push. Slowly the thug pulled back and began a second thrust, slow, gradual, he obviously knew what he was doing. Sasha felt herself stretching and giving way to his thick member.

"Oh this is a tight one," the man hummed. "Probably never taken it in the ass before!"

"With an ass like that?" another balked. "Damn shame!"

By the third thrust, Sasha's body seemed to adjust, relaxing to accept the penetration. Her pride on the other hand, had not. Hot tears rimmed her exotic eyes, as her ass-fucking grew in intensity. Suddenly, unexpectedly, a wave of pleasure rolled over the Latina. As the man violating her cherry ass began pumping more rhythmically she felt a pleasant (if unwanted) tingling warmth spread through her. Sasha was amazed at how quickly her body loosened up, and even more so at how good it began to feel to have a thick rigid cock sliding in and out of her ass!

"Caramba!" she gasped, as an orgasm rocked blissfully through her quivering loins.

"AGH!" the man grunted, feeling her cum, and as her body tensed, squeezing tightly around his cock he couldn't hold back, filling her with his white hot load! "I knew you were a whore!"

She felt the penis slide out of her, whimpering as it did. Her head spinning, weakened by her orgasm Sasha offered no resistance as the men jockeyed around her. Another man positioned himself behind her, she felt his big hands grip the curves of her sexy latin hips. He pulled and thrust all at once, not nearly so gentle as the first, going to work quickly on the helpless detective. Hardly aware of what she was doing, Sasha opened her mouth accepting the long, stiff man sausage that one of the others offered her; apparently not all of them were patient enough to wait for their turn at her luscious ass. Even while her plump lips were sliding up and down that hot, salty rod, and a rock hard dick slammed deep inside her ass sending waves of pleasure rushing through her...Sasha burned with shame, wondering how this could be happening to her...and how, oh HOW could she be enjoying it??

Sasha sort of lost track of things as another orgasm shook her vivacious curves. Her body felt like jelly, lying weak and helpless as the four men took turns humping her, grunting and sweating as they pounded away at her perfect round booty. Feeling the splatters of their hot sticky cum Capital City Detective Sasha Cortez burned with degradation. 

***

The next room over was a maintenance shop. Against one wall were work tables with tools and engine parts, a few dusty barrels parked along the other. Victory's nose twitched with the smell of a garage, masculine smells of grease and oil.

"Put me down!" the helpless superheroine blustered, struggling in her adversary's powerful arms. "I mean it, Centurion! Release me at once!"

"If you don't stop squirming," he said dangerously, "I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you!"

"OH! You wouldn't dare!" Victory gasped. "You let me go right now before I..."

"I warned you..." The Centurion set her down on a work bench. Seizing hold of her bound wrists, he pulled her slender body face-down across his lap. With her legs flailing impotently, he drew back his arm and brought the flat of his palm down HARD on the soft flesh of her vulnerable, naked bottom!

"OUCH!" Victory squeaked, shocked by the exquisite sting of his hand. "Don't you dare! I'm a grown woman! You can't do this to..." SLAP! Again his hand smacked her tender, pink tail! 

"OW! Stop it!" she cried, tears of feminine helplessness welling up in her green eyes. Her high boned cheeks turned bright red as the humiliation of being treated like an impertinent child swept through the proud heroine. The pert cheeks of her heart shaped ass were also turning rosy as another sharp spank landed! SLAP! "Please stop it!" SLAP! "Please... no more..." the denigrated heroine mewled helplessly, then to her own surprise she uttered; "I'll be a good little girl!"

The supervillain paused, perhaps as surprised as Victory herself, his hand was poised for another swat. "Do you promise?"

"I p-p-promise!" Victory whimpered, lying defenseless across his lap with her cute little booty in a perfect position for more punishment if she refused.

"Now behave yourself," he smirked, taking his hands away and allowing her to sit up.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked timidly, unable to rub her stinging posterior. "You can't just keep MMMMMM!!" 

His mouth had closed over her glossed lips in a rough kiss, sucking hungrily at her. Victory closed her eyes, her heart hammering between her soft breasts as a surge of lust seemed to gush through her body like a tidal wave, leaving her trembling with weakness. The Centurion set her down on a table draped with a canvas dropcloth, his warm tongue thrust between her lips as he pushed her flat and swarmed on top of her. She raised her hands in a vain attempt to fend him off, feeling the knotted muscles of his broad bare chest rippling, holding her immobile with his body while his hand caressed the smooth naked skin of her thigh.

"Unnnnnnn," Victory groaned as his mouth moved to her earlobe, sucking gently.

A wave of heat swept through the young heroine, her face and chest flushing hotly. She tried to fight back the arousal but she began to wonder if a part of her, deep inside, wanted this...wanted him? She felt his hand moving in between her legs, fingers finding and gently stroking the vulnerable shaven lips of her pussy. Despite herself, Victory's smooth thighs parted willingly, her naked little tail rubbing against the canvas as she arched her back, hips pushing against those strong exploring fingers. 

"Uhn-no... don't... don't touch my...nnNgh, you can't..."

"You say no, Jordin," he pointedly used her real name, planting a string of hot kisses along her swanlike neck, "but your body says yes."

"Please... please don't..." the girl moaned, squirming underneath him as his mouth reached her breasts, engulfing one aureole as his tongue rubbed back and forth across her hard pink nipple. "Nnnnghhh... please... I can't fight you... I'm h-h-h..." She bit off the word in shame, before she could say it.

The Centurion raised his head. "What were you going to say?" he asked sardonically. "I can't get over how easily you fell for it, Jordin. How willing you were to take off your clothes. One might almost think you actually WANTED to lose, wanted to be captured... wanted to be..."

"H-h-h-helpless..." Victory hissed, quivering with lust as she rubbed against him in abject surrender. "Please... please don't hurt me... I'm helpless... p-powerless..."

He climbed off of her for a moment, just long enough to fumble his shorts off. Then he was back, his strong hands firmly pushing her knees apart, spreading her legs, displaying her prim pussy. Victory lay helpless underneath him, legs parted, sliding smoothly along his torso as he mounted her. Then he was bracing himself on the table with his arms, body tensing as his hard, rigid tool eased inside her musky, dripping wetness...parting the petals of her moist flower.

"Ffffff! Oh fuck!" Victory gasped, as his nine inches plowed through her pussy lips without the least resistance! "P-p-please!"

She closed her eyes and lay back, legs out straight, hooking her bound wrists around his neck, the sweat of their bodies mingling as he coupled with her... thrusting deep into her!

"Please... fuck... please..." 

Starting with gentle rhythm, Victory could not keep her slim hips from rolling in time with Centurion's lead... regular, increasing, he pressed the tempo, grinding her steadily against the canvas as he kept up the unrelenting pressure. The heroine trembled, panting as he impaled her with his magnificent rod. Feeling her utter submission, the villain reached back seizing her ankles and folding her flexible legs alongside her slender torso. This positioned her with literally no way to resist, and gave him access to plunge his long hard shaft even more deeply into the helpless heroine. She gasped, crying out as he filled her nearly completely. Her breasts heaved with every gasped breath, her heart pounded between her ears, almost in time with Centurion's pounding between her legs. Her climax began to gather within her like a volcano about to explode, at the same time she could feel him grunting with effort, his manly chest heaving like a steam engine, then with a sudden RRRRUSHHHHH he came, filling her with his thick warm semen! 

Victory cried out! The superheroine whimpering as her body trembled with the orgasm...pulling him in tightly, abandoning any pretense of resistance and savoring the powerful orgasm that only this man, this supervillain seemed able to give her. "OHGAWDYESS!"

Fireworks seemed to be going off in her head, quivering with post coital energy as he collapsed on top of her, panting and sweating.

Chapter SEVEN

"Get up!" the Centurion snapped about twenty minutes later. "Get your clothes on!"

The supervillain was already fully dressed and armed, his tone of voice 100% business. Victory felt more than a little bewildered as he threw her uniform at her... purple halter top, hot pants, thong and boots, even her mask but NO powerbelt nor bracelets. 

"Wha... What's going on?" she asked, somewhat groggy. "Are we going someplace?"

"Silence, woman!" he ordered, turning on his heel. "Do as I tell you!"

The proud heroine's head sagged, to allow a man, her captor no less to speak to her that way...of course that wasn't the worst she'd allowed him to do. He left her alone in the workshop while she got dressed. Five minutes later, two of the henchmen came in leering at Victory. They grabbed her without a word and rebound her hands in front of her. The other two brought in Sasha, whose hands were likewise tied. The pretty detective made no eye contact with Victory, leaving the heroine only able to speculate what those crude henchmen might have done with her.

"Are you all right, Sasha?" Victory whispered as the girls were hustled down a corridor. "They didn't hurt you, did they?" It was still the middle of the night, pitch dark outside.

"I'm ok," the Latina whispered back, although her clothing looked disheveled, her shirt seemed to be missing some buttons, the velvet miniskirt now stained and rumpled. There was something about the way she was walking, her hands repeatedly tugging down the back of her short skirt. Cortez noticed Victory's curious glances and blushed. "The Centurion's goons kept my panties as a souvenir. Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"Not a..." Victory never finished the sentence.

Without warning one of the goons behind her looped a strip of black around her face! The unsuspecting heroine gasped as the cloth was pulled tightly between her teeth and knotted at the nape of her neck. Glancing over she could see Sasha receiving the same treatment.

"No talking!" one of the henchmen hissed. 

The two helpless girls exchanged a nervous glance over their cleavegags. Without their weapons or powers, they were just helpless girls, no sense in putting up any resistance against four grown men. A moment later they were taken outside and the back of an old black van was opened before them. Both captives instantly recoiled but they were easily manhandled inside and forced to sit on the floor. 

Quickly taking in her surroundings Victory noticed there was a kind of mesh that separated the cargo bed from the driver's compartment. Once the rear doors were shut and locked, they would be effectively caged!

A third henchman set a small strongbox next to the rear door.

The man who had gagged the women looked at it and said, "Are you crazy? You can't put that..."

"Just shut up and get them tied!" the other interrupted. "If you wanna question the Centurion's orders...don't do it while I'm around." He looked down sheepishly. "I still have the welts from the last time."

"Is there a problem, Marcus?" the Centurion asked, appearing suddenly in the doorway.

"No, sir!" the henchmen said, as all three of them snapped to attention.

"Then why aren't the captives secured? We're running late." His eyes met Victory's for a moment and he seemed to flash her a wry grin. 

The henchmen wasted no time, as a group they pounced on the two helpless women. Victory thrashed and kicked but without her powers she was just a skinny young woman, and the hardened thugs easily held her down. The ineffectual heroine felt rope being coiled about her thighs, just over the knee. No amount of squirming availed her and once her legs were tied, they moved to her slim ankles, lashing them tightly together. With a frustrated groan Victory tested her bonds, proving fruitless effort. She glanced at Sasha who was similarly bound. 




Spoils of Victory: A New Beginning



This story follows on from the events recounted in my "Spoils of Victory" trilogy, but this one stands on its own, so you don't need to have read the trilogy for it to make sense. Of course, if you haven't . . .?

She phoned me Sunday evening, just after I'd got back from my weekend away. I'd thrown my soiled clothes in the wash basket, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and checked the answering machine. Two business messages. They could wait until Monday. I was just finishing making a note to remind myself when the phone rang again. I let the answering machine kick in as I wrote, and was taken by surprise by my caller.

"Hi, Bob. Um, it's Julie, Julie March. Aunt Elly introduced us at Teal Island, remember? You'll be wondering why I'm phoning. Um, I have the chance to borrow a sailboat next weekend. I don't know anyone else interested in sailing, and I was wondering, wondering whether maybe you'd like to come with me? Maybe show me the ropes? Oh, that sounds corny, doesn't it? I'm sorry. You know what I mean, I guess. Obviously, you don't have to come - "

I picked up the handset and pressed the stop button on the recorder. "Julie? Hi. I just got in."

"Oh. Hi, Bob." Her voice was hesitant. "I hope you don't think I'm being pushy, I mean, I know you can sail, and I have this offer of a boat next weekend. I'd love to accept, but apart from the couple who own the boat I don't know anyone except you that actually knows which rope to pull." There was a nervous chuckle. "No compulsion, of course. It's just I have to let my friends know this evening. If I want to borrow the boat, I mean."

"Julie, I'd love to go sailing with you. Tell you what, why don't we have a drink sometime this week and discuss it?"

"Oh, yes! That would be great! I'm free any evening." Any evening? Interesting. What kept a good-looking girl like her indoors all week?

I glanced at my watch. Seven-forty. "Would that include tonight?"

There was a pause. "Yes, it would." There was a note of surprised pleasure in her voice.

"Where do I collect you?"

"Drake Building. Tenth and Vine. Apartment seventeen."

"Give me twenty minutes. I'll collect you at eight."

"Eight-thirty would be better. A girl needs more time," she said, a teasing note in her voice.

"Eight-thirty it is. See you then." I hung up, whistling. Just time for a quick shower.

I was a little early, maybe eight twenty-five, but she answered immediately when I rang her number on the speaker-phone gizmo at the entrance to the apartment block.

"Hi, it's Bob."

"Stay there, I'll be right down." She was as good as her word and gave me a bright smile as she came out.

I led the way to the car and seated her, rewarded with another flashing smile. Once in my own seat I looked across at her. "Where would you like to go? Do you want a meal, or just a drink and a chat?"

"I'd just eaten when I phoned you, so I'm not hungry, but if you'd like to go somewhere where I can just have a drink, and you a meal if you like, that's fine."

"Any suggestions?"

"There is a place," Julie said, hesitant.

"Tell."

"The 'Torch Bar'. There's live music tonight, and the food's good."

"Torch it is, but you'll have to direct me, because although I've heard of it, I don't know where it is."

It was down a side street, well off the main drag, but I managed to get parked within a couple of blocks and we made our way back to the Torch. There was a sign by the doorway, telling us 'Tonight and Tomorrow - Ellen Demaris.' I gestured at the sign.

"Do you know of her? The name's new to me."

"I do. That's why I wanted to come here. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not. Come on, let's go in."

The bar was only two-thirds full and we got a table near the tiny stage. Piano, drum kit, guitar on a rest. No players. I ordered drinks and a steak sandwich, and Julie and I just chatted for a while. Feeling each other out, I guess. We'd been introduced by Julie's aunt, Eleanor, at a nudist camp of all places, so there was none of the conventional wondering about what a new date might look like without clothes. I'd seen Julie naked, and I knew that the reality was pretty stunning. What we didn't know about each other were the conventional social things. Likes, dislikes, job, school, things like that. Although naturally reticent, Julie was open enough that I soon felt as if I'd known her longer than just two days. As we chatted, and I ate my delicious sandwich, the lights dimmed, a drummer and a guitarist slid into their places and a figure at the side of the stage was spotlighted. He raised a microphone to his lips.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Torch Bar proudly presents, Ellen Demaris!" There was a spattering of applause as a blond woman in a black sheath dress took her place at the piano and launched into 'Ain't Misbehavin'. Ellen Demaris was good. A throaty voice that hit the notes bang on, a sure touch on the piano keys and a couple of accompanists who kept the beat and rhythm going without ever intruding. She did a dozen or so numbers and then announced that it was time for a break.

"I have to see an old friend, too," she said. I'd noticed when she came on, as soon as she was relaxed and had the feel of the audience, she'd looked around, and I was sure she'd recognized someone when she looked in our direction. She didn't know me from Santa Claus, so it had to be Julie, and sure enough, as she moved away from the piano she came over to our table. Julie stood up and hugged her and turned to me. I stood.

"Bob," said Julie, "I'd like you to meet an old college friend of mine, Ellen Demaris. Ellie, this is Bob Archer." Ellen held out her hand and I shook it. There was a spare chair at our table and I gestured to it.

"Sit down, please." The waitress was hovering and I touched Ellen's arm. "A drink, perhaps?"

"Just a mineral water, please."

"Got it," said the waitress.

"We were at college together," said Julie. "We used to sing as a duo, but my voice doesn't last enough for more than a couple of nights, so these days I just sing in the shower."

"A great pity, too, Bob, because Jules has a lovely singing voice, purer than mine. We made a good duo." Ellen smiled at her friend, and turned to me. "So, Bob, how long have you known this lovely lady?"

I laughed. "About thirty-six hours, I think. Her aunt introduced us yesterday."

"And here you are, out together to listen to me."

Julie laughed. "Bob had never heard of you, Ellie, it was my idea to come here. I was going to come tomorrow. Now I can come twice."

Ellen laughed. "Yes, you can." She flicked a glance at me, before turning back to Julie. "Chuck?"

Julie shuddered and her face tightened. Ellen reached out and took her hand. "Sorry, Jules, I shouldn't have said anything."

Julie shook her head. "It's okay, Ellie, he's out of my life, serving time for assault and kidnap now."

"Good," said Ellen. The waitress had returned and she took her glass of mineral water. Julie stood.

"Excuse me for a moment, please. I must visit the ladies' room. No, don't get up. I won't be a moment." She was off in a swirl of skirt, moving easily through the crowd.

Ellen turned to me and we chatted for a while. The usual things, the trivia that strangers use to make conversation, and then she fixed me with a look. "She tell you about Chuck?" she said abruptly.

I shook my head. "No, but her aunt told me she'd had a bad time."

"He was a charmer, Chuck, but a real poisonous snake. To hear he's in jail is very reassuring and not a bit surprising." Ellen looked at me, head cocked. "What about you, Bob?"

"What about me?"

"You and Julie. You going to be good to her?"

I looked at her but all I could see was concern for her friend. "We only met yesterday," I said, and a smile escaped me before I could stop it. Ellen picked it up straightaway.

"Where?"

Neither of us had noticed Julie's return and it was Julie who answered as she slipped back into her seat. "Teal Island."

Ellen frowned. "Teal Island?" Her eyebrows went up. "Isn't that the, um -?"

"Nudist camp?" said Julie, grinning at her friend. "Yes, it is, and, yes, that's where we met."

"I didn't know you were into the skin thing," said Ellen, grinning at us.

"I have been since early spring. Bob's still a cotton-tail," Julie said with a smile.

Ellen looked puzzled for a moment, then exploded into laughter. "Oh, my, yes! I can just see what you mean." She chuckled to herself, and then sobered. "Maybe one day, but I tend to burn rather than tan." She sighed. "Back to work. Are you going to stay until I finish?"

"When's that?" said Julie.

Ellen made a face. "Midnight."

Julie looked at me. "Bob?"

I nodded. "Fine by me. I don't have to be up early."

Ellen nodded. "Great, we can talk again for a while." She got up and went back to the piano, playing a few trills, waiting for the drummer and guitarist. She played a couple of numbers and then she stood, taking the microphone from its stand.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she said. "When I first started in this business, I was part of a duo, but my partner quit after a few months because her voice couldn't take the strain of performing night after night." Ellen held out her hand towards Julie. "She's here tonight, and I'd like her to join me for a couple of numbers. A big hand, please, for Julie March!" 

Julie looked at me. I nodded, grinning. "Go!" She smiled and made her way over to Ellen. There was a brief heads together discussion and Ellen sat back down at the piano, launching into the introduction to 'Cry me a river.' I'd only ever heard the Julie London version of the old classic, but Julie March sang it as if it was her own. Ellen was right, Julie's voice was true and pure and she wrung every nuance out of the lyrics. The applause from the audience was genuine, and again after a duet with Ellen and another solo number, before she took a bow and made her way over to sit with me again.

Her eyes were sparkling as she slid into her seat. "I enjoyed that," she said.

I reached across and squeezed her fingers. "You were great." She smiled and turned her hand to squeeze mine.

We stayed until Ellen finished and chatted with her for a while, but at half-past midnight, although the bar was still open, it was time to go, as Julie had to be up for work in the morning. I work from home most of the time, so it wasn't so critical for me, but I was tired, too, and didn't argue. Ellen gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug, and a whispered, "look after her." She turned to Julie.

"Coming back tomorrow? Tonight, I should say, I suppose."

Julie nodded. "Yes, I'll be here." She turned to me and I shook my head.

"I have a meeting with a client at seven-thirty. Get here by cab, and I'll join you as soon as I can get free, and then I can give you a ride home, if you like?"

Julie smiled with pleasure. "Please, Bob. I'd like that."

When we got back to her apartment block I walked her across to the door. She paused, hesitant.

"Go," I said, "it's late."

"You don't mind?"

I shook my head. "Why should I mind? You're a working girl, you need your sleep. I'll see you tonight, won't I? And we need to arrange when we're going sailing, too."

A look of horror crossed Julie's face. "I forgot to tell Jack I wanted to borrow the boat!"

"Don't worry. If he's loaned it to someone else I can borrow Charlie's. He won't mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. Now, get yourself in and get some sleep. I'll see you in the bar tonight."

She paused, and I could see the hesitation. I leaned in to her and her lips came up as her eyes closed. The kiss was gentle. A promise, but I could feel tension in her, and found myself angry at whoever had hurt her so much she wasn't able to enjoy a kiss, but she broke away, smiling. "Good night, Bob."

"Good night, Julie." She opened the door and went in, waving goodbye as she did. I walked back to the car and took myself home. I stripped naked and poured myself a large scotch, sipping it as the shower warmed, draining the glass as I moved under the shower-head, soaping myself, watching almost abstractedly as my erection thickened. I smiled as I grasped it and began to masturbate to the memory of the naked and lovely Julie as I'd seen her on Teal Island. I came hard.

I was busy all of Monday, as I wanted to get ahead. I was prompt for my meeting with the client, the meeting went well, and at nine-forty I was parking the car. When I got into the 'Torch' Julie was up on stage again with Ellen. I just enjoyed the music for a while until Julie came off and I made my way towards her. A guy in front of me I think was going to make a move on Julie but she spotted me over his shoulder and smiled. He could tell the smile wasn't for him, glanced over his shoulder, then shrugged, smiled and moved away. A good loser, I figured.

"Hi, Bob," said Julie, stretching to kiss my cheek. "When did you get here?"

"Part way through 'Smoke gets in your eyes,' so I stood at the back and just watched and listened. You were great."

"Thanks. It felt good, but I could feel my throat getting tight on that last number."

"It didn't show."

"I'm not usually so throaty singing that one," she said, with a grin.

"It sounded good. Have we a table?"

"We have. Max, he's the manager, reserved us one."

"Great. Have you eaten?"

"No. You?"

"Not yet. Want something here?"

"Yes, please. I liked the look of that steak sandwich you had last night, but I think I'll get the smaller one, with some salad."

We ordered, ordered drinks, and watched Ellen for a while. During a lull between numbers, I remembered the boat.

"Julie, did you ask your friend about the boat?"

She nodded. "Yes, this morning. It's a go. We can have it from noon Friday until ten on Monday morning, if we want."

"Sounds good. What kind is it?"

Julie screwed her face up, remembering. "Jack said it was a Bermuda cutter, thirty feet, and it has bunks and a galley if we want to sleep on board." Julie flushed, but her smile was genuine. "Does that sound about right?"

"Sounds good. Do you? Want to sleep on board, I mean?"

She shrugged. Nervous, I think. "I dunno. What about you?"

"It would mean we could anchor anywhere that looked and felt good, but it's your call. I have a couple of sleeping bags we can use, if you wanted to sleep on a beach or something."

Julie smiled. "That sounds good. I'll get some food together for Friday."

"Only if you let me pay at least half," I said.

She nodded. "Dutch it is. Have you any dislikes in food?"

"Can't think of any. You?"

She shook her head. "As long as it isn't still alive, I'm fine." She glanced across at the stage, where Ellen was just starting another number and by unspoken consent, we kept our silence and gave Ellen's performance the respect it deserved. Ellen announced a break after the number and, like the evening before, came to join us.

"Hi, Bob," she said. "Did you catch any of Julie's set?"

"Last three numbers," I said. "It was great."

"But the voice was going, wasn't it, hon?" she said to Julie.

"Yeah," said Julie, making a face.

"Never mind, hon. You were a hit anyway."

"It was fun, but I know I'll never be more than a party singer. I'm used to the idea now."

"At least you get to sleep in your own bed at nights," said Ellen with a laugh and a sideways glance at me. "I don't get home again for another three weeks."

"You enjoy being on the road, admit it!" said Julie.

Ellen grinned. "Yeah, most of the time." We chatted for a while, nothing serious, just friendly gossip, until Ellen drained her mineral water and stood. "Some of us have work to do," she said, kissed Julie's cheek, and made her way back to the stage. We stayed until she finished, chatted with her for another half-hour or so and then left, again well after midnight. Julie was fighting yawns as I drove her home.

"Straight to bed for you, miss," I said.

"Sorry, Bob. I guess two late nights are catching up with me. Will I see you tonight?"

"Sorry, but no. I have to leave town for a day or so, so I won't see you tomorrow either, but Thursday, I'd like to take you to dinner."

"I'd like that, very much. Any thoughts on where?"

"What do you like?"

"All sorts." She paused. "I like cooking, too, so how about instead of taking me out, I fix us dinner at my apartment? We can discuss what we'd like to do over the weekend, too."

"Sounds like a plan. What time?"

"How about seven? That gives us plenty of time to chat afterwards."

"I'll come by cab, then we can have a bottle of wine and I don't need to risk a DUI."

"Sensible. Okay, Bob, dinner here, on Thursday. Anything special you'd like?"

I shrugged. "Whatever suits you. Something with fish might be nice."

She laughed. "My specialty! Fish I do best, so bring white wine, Bob."

"I will." We'd reached her apartment block now, and again I walked her over to the door. There was no hesitation this time. She came straight into my arms for a kiss, and there was a definite promise in hers. Eventually she broke away, a smile in her eyes.

"Good night, Bob, and thank you. See you Thursday."

"Thursday. Goodnight, Julie." There had definitely been less tension in her when I kissed her goodnight this time, but I could still feel it.

I masturbated in the shower again.

Tuesday and Wednesday were boring. Okay, I met up with my client and we agreed a deal that would bring me a lot of money, but the hotel room was lonely and I realized I was really missing being with Julie. I took a mental step back, almost surprised. I liked her, yes, I liked her very much. Was there more? Maybe I was falling in love. I didn't know, I'd never been in love before, not to the extent of wanting to spend the rest of my life with a particular woman. I'd always backed away before, or the women I'd known had been like me, happy to enjoy good sex, but with no ties. Here I was, thinking serious thoughts about a woman I'd only known for three days. I laughed at myself. If it happened, it happened.

Thursday evening was fine, a warm summer evening, and I got the cab to stop at a little mom-and-pop mini-mart I knew, where I knew the wine was both good and reasonably priced, and at five to seven I was ringing the bell at Julie's apartment.

"Hello? Bob? Is that you?"

"Large as life and twice as ugly."

She giggled, and the door lock buzzed open. I grabbed it before it could lock again and made my way to apartment seventeen, on the third floor. Julie was waiting at the door for me, stood aside to let me in and suddenly was in my arms as the door closed. The kiss was an invitation, an invitation I'm not sure she intended, at least, not that early, as she broke away, flushing and looking a little flustered. I pretended not to notice and held out the bag.

"Two bottles of white wine. Best get it in the refrigerator. It's chilled, but it's a warm night."

"Thanks, Bob. Take a seat in the living room. I just have to finish the sauce, then we can relax for twenty minutes until it's ready."

I looked around her living room with curiosity. A room can give a clue to a person, and I wanted to know the real Julie. A comfortable couch, a little battered, faced a modestly sized TV, an armchair to the side. Coffee table, magazine rack, a small entertainment center, and a big rack of CDs and DVDs. Curious, I looked closer. A very eclectic mix! 

"Pick one you like," said Julie, coming up behind me, silent on slippered feet.

I glanced at her, amused. "Testing my taste?"

She grinned. "Of course."

I took a CD out and handed it to her. "This one."

She looked at the CD and nodded. "I like this one, too." She slid the CD into the player and Madeleine Peyroux began to sing "Dance me to the end of love." Julie gestured to the couch and I sat, while she perched herself on the armchair. "Dinner in fifteen minutes."




Spoils of Victory: Epilogue



Eleanor woke me on Saturday morning in the best possible way, by sucking and licking my prick to a raging hardness. It didn't take long, my memories of her heated body writhing against mine in the night were still vivid in my mind. It took her only moments to get me hard, then she smiled, kissed me gently on the mouth and straddled me, lowering herself slowly onto my pole. She was wet, she was ready and with only a couple of wiggles to spread her juices, I was in her as far as my prick could reach.

Eleanor sighed, a soft smile on her face. "Damn, but that feels good!"

I reached up to caress her breasts. "Sure does," I murmured. 

She pressed my hands against her, grinning. "So does that." She began to rise and fall on my prick, gently, just taking it easy. I let my hands play with her breasts, my thumbs rubbing lightly over her nipples, rigid, rosy in the morning light through the drapes. Neither of us wanted to hurry the moment and it was a while before Eleanor's breathing deepened, quickened, a faint sheen of sweat on her brow as she rose and fell. She was moving a little faster now and I began to thrust up into her as she came down, our hips moving together like a well-oiled machine, the liquid slither clearly audible in the quiet of the room.

Eleanor didn't speak, but her stifled gasp as her climax hit her only echoed my own as my hips jerked in reflex, my prick trying to bury itself inside her. Eleanor collapsed across me, my prick slowly softening inside her and I reached my arms up to hug her to me. We lay, unspeaking, our breathing slowly easing and it was only when my shrinking prick finally slithered from her welcoming pussy that Eleanor sat up, gazing at me, the ghost of a smile on her face. I blew her a kiss and her smile broadened.

"That was good," she said, her tone positive.

"Yes, it was."

She eased herself off the bed. "Come on, Bob. We'll shower, then get some breakfast, and after that we have some visitor passes to use, don't we?"

"We do. We do, indeed."

We enjoyed our sail along Lake Erin in Charlie's boat, but now it was time for us to check out Teal Island. The island had a dock and it was about eleven when I tied the mooring lines. I guessed someone would come to check us out and sure enough a figure came along the dock towards us, a young blonde girl wearing only a baseball cap and a wide smile, confident in her unadorned, slender beauty. "Hi, folks," she greeted us, "you're either lost or you know what this place is."

I showed her the visitors' passes. "I'm Bob Archer and this is Eleanor Sheldon."

She nodded and shook our hands. "I'm Katy Binns, duty slave today. We do ask visitors to undress, okay? It's not compulsory, but we find visitors are quite often more comfortable if they do."

"Of course," said Eleanor, disappearing into the cabin and reappearing in moments, naked. "Come on, Bob."

I dived inside and stripped, rejoining the two women on the dock. I don't know what it is, but their eyes dropped to my groin and lifted in perfect synchronisation. Eleanor took my hand. "Katy will show us around."

"Follow me," said our guide and I had the pleasure of watching her neat athletic ass tick-tocking ahead of us. A sideways glance at Eleanor caught her fighting a laugh. I grinned. Katy paused. "Over here is the main lounge. We have dining facilities and a bar. Over there are the cabins. They can be rented by members, or there are small clearings scattered around for camping. They take six to eight tents each." She walked on for a while. "Tennis courts, swimming pool and a space for volleyball."

Everywhere there were people enjoying themselves, just like any holiday place, except that all of them were naked. There were some very attractive women, sure, but there were all sizes, shapes and ages of both sexes. I looked at my companion again. Yes, Eleanor was as good-looking as any of them. The only thing that marked us out were the bands of whiter skin normally concealed by our swim suits. 'Cotton-tails', I believe, is the relevant description.

A youthful-looking older woman was passing by but she suddenly stopped. "Eleanor! Eleanor Sheldon! I don't believe it."

A broad smile spread across Eleanor's face. "Madeleine, good to see you." Eleanor stepped away from me into the other woman's embrace.

Katy touched my arm. "I think you've seen 'most everything. If you want to ask any questions, I'll be in the office." She pointed. "Please stop by before you leave, okay? And enjoy the rest of your visit." She smiled and walked lithely away. Mmm, I could watch that ass for hours. . .

Hand in hand, Eleanor and the older woman came over to me. "Madeleine, this is Bob Archer. Bob, I'd like you to meet Madeleine Karstens. Maddy is an old friend of our family." Eleanor took my hand and turned to face Madeleine. "Bob's my lover, Maddy."

A brief expression of shock passed over Madeleine's face, followed by a delighted look and a broad grin. "You've ditched Dan?"

"I'm in the process. Meanwhile Bob and I came to see what it was like here, before we go back to the Lodge and fuck the night away."

"Good for you, Eleanor." Madeleine's glance flickered down, then up. She looked me in the eye while addressing Eleanor. "I'm jealous."

Eleanor glanced at me enquiringly. I didn't know what she wanted, but I nodded. She turned to Madeleine. "Why don't you join us?"

Shock and delight ran through me. Somehow managing to remain impassive, I looked at Madeleine whose own face was a mask which slowly mutated into a grin of sexual hunger, and promise.

"I would be delighted," said Madeleine, a longing in her tone. "But why don't you join me? I have a cabin. Josie was coming, but she had to go to the coast. Emergency of some sort." Madeleine shrugged, laughing. "So I came by myself." She looked straight at me. "The bed's king size."

Eleanor laughed and squeezed my fingers. "Think you're up to it."

I grinned. "I think so, and I think you'd better get me indoors before I embarrass us." I indicated my stiffening prick. Madeleine giggled.

"This way," she said.

The cabin was small, designed for holiday use. A kitchen-diner annex led off the living-room. There was one bedroom and a bathroom. The bed was indeed king size and Madeleine correctly interpreted my sudden curiosity.

"Me and Josie?" she said with a grin.

I nodded, slightly embarrassed.

"I like the taste of a pussy as much as the feel of a prick. Don't I, Eleanor?" Madeleine said, sitting on the bed.

Eleanor gave me a rueful look, nodding. "You certainly do, Maddy. And I have to say, your tongue comes a close second to Bob's prick."

"Second, eh? He must be good."

Eleanor squeezed my fingers again. "He is." She glanced across at me, her eyes sparkling. "Shall I tell Maddy how we met?"

I shrugged. "Why not?"

Madeleine looked between us, curious. Eleanor smiled.

"That hopefully soon-to-be-ex-husband of mine?"

"What about him?" Madeleine waited expectantly.

"I knew he was at the Lodge. I wanted to see him, confront him I suppose, preferably on neutral ground, because I had decided I wanted a divorce. Anyway, when I got there, he was half-drunk and had a couple of his bimbos with him. I was in two minds whether to even speak to him when I noticed Bob here getting his face slapped. Not once, but three times, by three different women."

Madeleine's face was alive with curiosity. "Go on."

"Well, Bob was passing and on impulse I asked him what was up. He told me he had accepted a bet that he could get one of the women in the room into bed within the hour. I asked him who the bet was with, although I had a good idea, and when he told me it was Dan I said something like, 'okay, where's your room'?"

Madeleine grinned at me. "And?"

I grinned back at her. "We went to my room, Eleanor took off her clothes and said 'fuck me.' So I did."

"Best fuck I've had since high school. I wanted more, and I told Bob so. He rang me yesterday and invited me to the Lodge for the weekend. I was there within the hour." Eleanor came over to me and hung her arms around my neck. "And last night was even better because we didn't need to hurry." I bent and kissed her lightly.

Madeleine laughed out loud in pure delight. "Wonderful!" she said. "Dan lost the bet. Did he pay up?"

"Of course," said Eleanor, smirking. "We supplied him with proof."

"Proof?"

"A photo of me naked, signed and dated by me, thanking Bob for a wonderful fuck." Eleanor giggled as Madeleine chortled with laughter. Eleanor kissed me. "Okay. I've invited Maddy to join us, Bob, so how do you want the two old ladies?"

"Deep and often," I growled. I laughed. "I've only got one prick, so you'll need to decide who gets it, or take turns, but I have a mouth and tongue as well and I'm partial to pussy-juice."

"Oh, good," said Madeleine, a tone of deep satisfaction in her voice. She looked at Eleanor. "Which do you want, dear?"

Eleanor smiled. "I had that lovely prick before breakfast, sweetheart, so be my guest."

Madeleine grinned at me. "Would you care to lie on your back on my bed, Bob?" She gestured courteously.

I bowed to her, and lay myself on my back in the middle of the bed. My prick was well on the way to full hardness now and as two tongues swept its length from opposite sides, it was instantly hard, as hard as I could remember it ever having been.

Madeleine sat back. "Mmm, nice," she said approvingly. She looked at Eleanor and then moved to kneel astride my legs. Eleanor moved across and kissed her and for a moment or two I might as well not have been there, because there was no holding back by either of them. When they broke apart Eleanor flushed a little as she caught my eye, but I grinned and she winked, with a happy smile for me.

"Come on, honey," said Madeleine, "climb aboard. I think our boy is ready."

"I sure am."

Eleanor moved astride my chest, shuffling forward so that my tongue, with my head propped up on pillows now, could reach her pussy. I checked by extending it, sweeping up her slit as far as I could get my tongue. She moaned softly and shuffled a little further forwards.

"Hey, wait for Maddy," said Madeleine, moving up behind Eleanor. I felt her cool fingers take hold of my prick and then felt it enter that warm, wet paradise that is pussy. She was wet and surprisingly tight, and with a couple of wriggles to spread her juices on my pole, she sank down onto me, a sigh of satisfaction escaping her lips as her ass touched my thighs. I looked up at Eleanor, poised above me, and grinned. She grinned back at me and her eyes closed as Madeleine's hands came round her and cupped her breasts.

I slipped my tongue between Eleanor's labia and let it run the full length of her slit, loving the flavour of her, loving the heat of her, enjoying her aroma filling my nostrils. I began to lick at her, at the fold of thigh and crotch, at the outside of her lower lips, inside her cleft, licking, probing, flicking the tip of my tongue over her clitoris, loving the taste of her, the heat of her. Madeleine was rising and falling on my prick now, squeezing me as she moved, moving easily now, audibly, as her juices flowed.

My nostrils were filled with the heat and aroma of Eleanor, her juices, too, beginning to flow. From my prone position, my nose buried in her fragrance, I could just see Madeleine's fingers playing with Eleanor's breasts, squeezing and pulling on the nipples. Eleanor twisted her head back and she and Madeleine kissed again, warm, lingering.

I began to move my hips a little, thrusting up into Madeleine as she came down on me. She moaned deep in her throat, her lips still on Eleanor's. Eleanor was breathing heavily, and her stomach muscles were beginning to flutter as my tongue moved busily in her juices. I let it flick across her clitoris, left, right, left, then took her clitoris between my lips and sucked on it. Eleanor let out a taut scream and her thighs clamped on my head as she shuddered into her climax.

Madeleine, perhaps taken by the moment, began to move faster, rising and falling on my aching pole, squeezing me as she moved, a constant murmur easing between clenched teeth. Her hand came down, onto her clitoris, her fingers rubbing lightly over herself as she moved until she gasped, her pussy clamping on my pole as her climax hit her, clamping me, squeezing me, pulsing as she let herself slide over the precipice. I couldn't hold on. I'd been gritting my teeth, trying to stop myself from coming, but now I thrust up hard into Madeleine, my own climax taking me, my vision blurring as I came in four or five hard jets into Madeleine's warm and welcoming pussy.

It was minutes later before anyone could move, and it was Madeleine easing herself off me, helping Eleanor, who moved first. My softening prick slid easily from her soaked tunnel. She grinned briefly as it slipped from her.

"Very nice, Bob," she murmured. "I see what Eleanor means now."

"Eleanor can barely stand," said Eleanor, bending over to kiss me lightly. "Our boy's multi-talented."

"Lie down beside me," I said.

They both did, one on each side, snuggling against me. I slid an arm under each of their necks, drawing each of them to me in turn for a kiss, warmly reciprocated by each of them.

"Thank you, ladies," I said.

"Any time," said Madeleine. "Just put a bed under me. I'm too old for the back seats of cars." She grinned across me at Eleanor. "I'm jealous, honey."

"No need," said Eleanor. "As long as Bob's willing, I'm ready to share."

"Bob's willing," I murmured. They both laughed and kissed me again.

"Eleanor?" said Madeleine.

"Mmm?"

"Have you plans for next week?"

"Nothing definite. Why?"

"I have to go to New York. Just wondering if you'd like to come, too."

Eleanor sat up, leaning over me. "I'd love to!" She frowned, turning to me.

"Go," I said. "There'll be other times."

She kissed me lightly. "Tonight and tomorrow, for now," she said with a grin.

Madeleine sat up. "I need a shower," she said. "Coming, Eleanor?" She turned to me with a grin. "Big enough for two, but not three, Bob, sorry."

I nodded. "I'll just lie here for a moment. Will you be my guest for dinner at the Lodge tonight, Madeleine?"

She made a face. "Bob, normally I'd have jumped at it, but I already have a dinner engagement here, with an old friend. You and Eleanor can have a good time without me tagging along."

I nodded, laughing at the lascivious grin Eleanor flashed in my direction. The women went into the shower and I lay back. Next thing I knew, they were waking me and I took my turn in the shower. Coffee was waiting for me when I'd dried myself and a half-hour or so later, we were strolling back to Charlie's boat.

A young woman was walking towards us and I glanced at her. She was lovely. Lithe, slim, small but beautiful breasts and a magnificent head of dark red hair. She looked vaguely familiar but it was only when an astonished look appeared on her face and she said, "Aunt Eleanor!" that I realised, for she had been driving the Mercedes when Eleanor came to join me at the lodge.

"Julie!" said Eleanor, holding out her arms to hug the younger woman. "I didn't know you came here."

"I joined in the spring." She gestured. "I like being able to get a natural tan."

Eleanor held her at arms' length, smiling. "It suits you." She turned to Madeleine and I as we waited. "Bob, Maddy, this is my niece, Julie. You almost met her last night, Bob, when she dropped me at the Lodge. Julie, Madeleine you've met before, but not Bob."

"No, Bob I haven't met before. Hi, Maddy." Julie held out her hand and I shook it. "Aunt Elly has told me a lot about you, Bob," Julie said, a slight flush on her cheeks.

"Julie!" said Eleanor, embarrassed.

I grinned. "It's okay, Eleanor. I'm proud to be your lover, not ashamed."

"And I yours, Bob."

"I can see why you like him so much," Julie said with a smile. "I hope I didn't embarrass you," she said to me.

"No, not at all."

"Anyway, what are you doing here, Aunt Eleanor?" There was bright curiosity on Julie's face.

"Finding out what it's like," said Eleanor.

"And?"

"I like it."

"There's a special offer on at the moment on membership," said Julie. "Katy Binns, she's in the office today, she told me."

"We met her when we arrived," I said. "Friend of yours?"

"Acquaintance really, although I guess we're all friends here," said Julie. She laughed. "Something about being naked together means it's hard to be false."

"As I think I've realised," said Eleanor.

"I think I'll spend some of my ten thousand on membership. Both of us?" I said to Eleanor.

"I think so," she said. "I'll repay you, of course."

"You'll do no such thing," I said. I laughed. "In a way, it's your money I'm spending."

Julie snorted. "The bet!"

I looked at Eleanor with raised eyebrows and she giggled, blushing. "I was a little candid, I'm afraid."

"A little! Is there anything you haven't told Julie?"

Julie flushed. "Aunt Elly told me you'd made love, and why. She didn't go into detail, if that's what you mean."

"I guess it is," I said. I looked at their two anxious faces and laughed. "Hey, no big deal, ladies." I reached out and pulled Eleanor to me, kissing her lightly. "It's all right," I said, "all you've done is tell the truth. Come on, let's go and see Katy Binns."

Half an hour later, we'd officially applied for membership, contingent upon my promised check clearing. Julie and Maddy, members already, had sponsored us. The four of us strolled along to Charlie's boat, chatting amiably. Putting my shorts and t-shirt back on before we cast off felt strange, after being naked so long. Eleanor felt the same way, grimacing when she caught my eye.

"You'll be ready at eight, Monday morning?" Madeleine said to Eleanor as we prepared to cast off.

"I will. Bob and I will be leaving the Lodge tomorrow afternoon."

"You won't need a ride? "said Julie.

Eleanor shook her head. "No, Bob will take me home."

"Okay," said Julie. "See ya." She waved as we moved slowly away from the dock, the breeze filling the sails as we made our way back to the Lodge landing.

"She likes you," said Eleanor as the waving figures of Julie and Madeleine slipped behind a headland.

"Maddy? I guess she does." I grinned. "Having a naked lady sliding down your prick usually indicates a certain measure of liking, in my experience."

Eleanor grinned back at me. "Yes, Maddy does, but I was talking about Julie."

"Nice girl."

"Yes, she is, and she's had a rotten time with men. Ask her out, Bob. I think you'll find she'll accept."

"What about us?"

"What about us? Bob, you're thirteen years younger than me. I love to have you fuck me, it's marvellous for my ego, but let's not fool ourselves. It isn't going to last."

"Possibly so, but I'm in no hurry to end it."

"Nor I, my dear. You're good for me. But I love my niece, and putting someone like you into her life feels right to me." She frowned suddenly.

"What?"

"You might not care for her."

"I like her, if that's what you mean. I think she's very attractive."

"So ask her out."

"You wouldn't mind?"

Eleanor smiled gently, leaning over to kiss me. "Wasn't it my idea? So why would I mind? Bob, I'm going to be in New York for a month. I'll be with Maddy, so I know I'll be having fun, but what about you?"

"I've got my hand and your picture."

Eleanor snorted. "Yes, but Julie's warmer, she's alive, and she likes you."

"I like her."

"Are you going to ask her out, then?"

"I will, if you're absolutely certain you don't mind."

"How many times do I have to tell you? I - do - not - mind!"

I held my hands up. "All right, already. I surrender."

"Good. Now kiss me." She grinned suddenly.

"What?"

"Tonight, after dinner, when we go to bed?"




Spoils of Victory: Prologue



This story was originally written for the 600-word exercise some of the Literotica authors took part in, which led to the Snippettsville Group. I've expanded it and tidied it a little, and changed the names. Enough of you asked me for the background to 'Spoils of Victory' to make me think it was worth offering here as the prologue it is. Further episodes might take a little longer ... 

Spoils of Victory - Prologue

"You seem to be having problems?" There was a faint smile on her face.

As I'd just had my face slapped for the third time it didn't take a genius to work that out. I looked at her. Elegant in a black cocktail dress, blonde hair in a neat chignon, she could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty. For some reason I felt the need to tell her the truth.

"I've just been bet ten thousand dollars that I can't get one of the women in this room to go to bed with me within an hour. I decided the best way was to ask. Hence the face-slapping." I grinned ruefully. "Maybe I was wrong."

"Ask?" she said, curious.

"Ask, as in, 'will you go to bed with me?'"

"Who is the bet with? Anyone I know?" There was a strange expression on her face.

I gestured, unable to stop the flicker of distaste which I knew I showed. "Dan Sheldon."

She nodded, looking past me, her face expressionless, to where he sat, pawing tipsily at a couple of girls young enough to be his daughters. Her eyes came back to me. "Do you have a room here?" she said.

"Two-eighteen," I replied automatically.

"Let's go, then," she said, taking my arm and steering me towards the door. I moved automatically, shocked, feeling as if I'd been kicked in the stomach.

In the elevator she was silent, almost solemn, and I studied her covertly, wondering. "There's a snag," I said, my voice hesitant.

"Tell me."

"I have to have proof."

She flashed a glance at me, with a half smile. "I don't think that need be a problem."

At room two-eighteen I opened the door and ushered her in. Once inside she began immediately to undress. I watched her, still feeling slightly stunned, as she carefully hung the cocktail dress in the closet. She wore no bra, and removing her skimpy panties took only a moment. Clad only in garter-belt and stockings she turned to me. I stared. Older woman she might be, but there was nothing old about her body.

"Undress," she commanded, a half-smile on her face.

Mutely, I complied, until I stood naked before her, my prick well on its way to full hardness. A woman wearing only stockings and waiting to have sex with me will have that effect.

"How much is there left of your hour?" she said with what I hoped was an approving glance at my prck.

"Thirty-five minutes."

"No time for fore-play. A pity, but then, I've been getting steadily wetter just thinking about this. Do you have a name?"

"Bob. Bob Allison."

"Hi, Bob. I'm Eleanor." She grinned suddenly, her face lighting up, and arched her eyebrows. "Fuck me, Bob."

I looked at her. Tall, slim waist; full, rounded breasts, puffy areola, erect nipples, a neatly trimmed fluffy blonde triangle at her groin. I grinned back at her. "With great pleasure," I said.

She lay back on the bed and spread her legs, a flash of coral in her cleft. I knelt between her thighs, my prick as hard as it has ever been. She grasped me lightly, her fingers cool on my heat, and guided me into her. She was ready, she was wet and I sank straight to my root in her streaming pussy. Her heels came up into the small of my back and urged me into her.

"Yes!" she hissed as my balls slapped against her ass, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I began to thrust into her, gentle, steady, not rushing, for I wanted this strange moment to last. Apart from her initial cry our coupling was wordless, torrid, her hands clawing at my back, my prick pistoning audibly in her juices as I thrust steadily into her, maximising my stroke, trying to fill her, then empty her, loving the hot, wet cling of her pussy, her tight pussy, gripping me as I moved, my glans stimulated by her, exciting me, stirring me, until with a wordless cry she climaxed, violently, her belly rippling, her pussy clamping down onto me, triggering my own eruption.

For a long moment we lay clasping each other as we fought to get our breath back, until Eleanor stirred.

"How long left?" she said softly, and I thought I sensed regret in her tone.

"Um, ten minutes."

"Is that an instant camera on the dresser?

I laughed. "Yes. It was a free gift with some computer equipment I bought. I was trying it out earlier."

"Has it film in?" she asked, an enigmatic look on her face.

I nodded. "I think there are two shots left."

Her half smile broadened to a grin. "Take my photograph, for your proof."

"What do I want with ten thousand dollars?" I said lightly. "Your smile is worth more than that."

"Take the picture," she commanded. "In fact, take two, one for your proof, one to remember me."

"I'll never forget you! Are you sure?" She nodded.

She sat on the bed, naked except for her garter belt and stockings, her hands behind her, legs spread, as I took two quick pictures, then dressed as the pictures developed. She took them from me, nodding.

"Excellent, no doubt that it's me. Have you a pen?"

She scribbled quickly on the photographs, then handed them to me. On one, 'Bob, thank you for a wonderful fuck. Eleanor. XXX. 9:21pm, June 16, 2003'. On the other, a cell-phone number and 'Call me, Bob. I want to do this again - slowly. Love, Eleanor'.

"The first one should help, I think," she said, as she wriggled into her dress. "Get dressed and get down there. Time's money!"

"Does Dan Sheldon know you?"

She smiled, like a shark. "Not nearly as well as he thinks he does, or that he's going to know me. I'm his wife!"

I opened my mouth, speechless. She touched my lips, shaking her head.

"Don't be sorry," she said fiercely. "I'm not. That's why you have the message on the second picture. I want to see you again, Bob." She gazed at me, solemn. "I want your promise that you won't be gallant, and try to save my reputation. Take the picture to Dan and claim your prize, okay?"

I hesitated and she gripped my arm. "Promise!" she demanded. I took a deep breath and nodded. She smiled, kissed me lightly and then she was gone.

I looked at the photographs in my hand. One went into my wallet. I looked again at the other, then grinned. What a way to win the bet! Somehow, I didn't think I would be doing any more business with Dan Sheldon.

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