August 2021

by Bob McNeil

     Gothopolis was a city known for two things: its massive size and the meta humans in residence.   These superheroes, as everybody was aware, attempted to keep the crime rate down.   Cited on the list of great power-endowed first responders, these names were always the most admired: The Crusading Specter, Stellar Mensch, Fantastic Titaness, Clint Sprinter, and Tye Cyborg.  Together, they were known as The Law-abiding League. 

     Observing such people of importance in town was a great source of comfort.  This point was clear to the passengers on a plane being held by terrorists.  Awaiting the release of political prisoners, thirty-three men dressed in Ninja outfits threatened the four-man crew and three hundred passengers with their plastic rifles. Prayers to all deities were whispered by the hostages.    Also, they hoped Stellar Mensch would find the craft on the Brother Right Airport tarmac.    

     Incapable of disappointing those being abused by oppressors, the muscular extraterrestrial in his trademark purple leotard, floor-length yellow cape, and green boots swooped down upon the plane.  Superior hearing helped him learn of the craft’s plight.  That blond and very tall offspring from the union between an Earth woman and the last male from planet Dicknomical entered the ship so quickly it did not break a piece of metal.  Zooming around at a speed the human eye could barely perceive, he flew thru the plane and scooped up each would-be killer one by one.  Inexplicably, Stellar’s brushed up quiff was unaffected by the wind.   Every passenger described his movements as a blur of colors. Thankfully, from there at a rapid rate that would confound rocket scientists, the hero took those terrorists to the local police department. 

     Always pleased to receive praise and watch women get turned on, Stellar Mensch returned for the applause of the relieved passengers. Extraterrestrial DNA, similar to the Earth’s chameleon, prevented the appreciative crowd from recognizing that their hero was, in fact, Brett Ballsworthy, the anchorman for Channel 3, the True to You News. 

      A particular female passenger in a white tank top, miniskirt and slippers gave Stellar more than praise. This lady in question with collar-length straw-colored hair, Asiatic eyes, thin features, and light golden brown skin grabbed the hero’s crotch and planted a kiss on his mouth.  Determined to turn the hero on, the woman flashed him, revealing she did not have on panties.  Surprised by it all, Stellar's large cock got aroused.   Right there in front of his admiring fans, he fondled all parts of the female's 5 ft. 10-inches.  Relying on his visual observations, he figured her measurements were about 38F-27-41.  Her weight, he assumed, was probably 145 pounds.   He came to that conclusion after flying her out of the plane’s door.  Whatever her weight was, it did not matter to Stellar. It was all stacked in the right places.

      For a person who was impervious to all weapons and every Earthly germ, Stellar was worried about his impulsiveness.  This woman almost scared the hero as much as soy, the only substance on Earth that could weaken him.  Either because of a drug or magical enchantment, the man was spellbound by the babe’s sexual power.

     At 1,200 feet above the ground, the woman locked her legs around the meta male’s iron-like waist. Brazenly and bravely, she whipped off the clothing on her bodacious breasts and ass. Fired to a feverish level of passion, Stellar went from one boob to the other and sucked for all they were worth. The sheer excitement of it all made his engorged cock rip thru his leotards.         

     Quite in awe of its impressive size and eagerness, the unnamed mysterious female slid down on some of the man’s massiveness.  Probably out of response to the pain and pleasure of having such a large cock inside, the woman dug her nails and large gold bracelet into the titanic guy’s back.  Unfazed by the woman’s cattish response to fucking in midair. Stellar was more preoccupied with a few things, namely his protective arms holding the fuck-frenzied female around her waist.  Next, his other concern was the lava coming from the lady’s lower layer.  Her genital’s temperature was quite different from the frigidity of the high altitude.  Lastly, fear of dropping her made the superhero descend towards the security of the ground. 

     Concerned with safety, Stellar landed on a desolate grassy knoll while the woman’s twat made upward and downward motions on his meta pud.  Sliding her pussy along a bit more of that stupendous shaft created heavenly sensations for both lovers.  Furiously, between cupping her asscheeks, Stellar pumped faster.  Filled to the cervix, she felt a raincloud of cum building in her.  Hoping to achieve that first orgasm, she screamed, “Ram my cunt, Stellar, ram it.”

     Overwhelmed with a need to oblige, Stellar held the female by the shoulders and banged her hole until they both felt the orca whale of orgasms.

     “Fuck me faster than a flying rocket. You’re more powerful than a pumping piston. You’re able to slay a lady in a single moment. Look at you, Stellar Mensch. That’s it, that’s it,” the lady yowled at the time her pussy clamped then released a rush of cooze tonic. “I’m sooooooo fucking climaxing.” 

      That woman was not surprised about feeling Stellar’s cock nerves throb.  Years of experience made her aware of what was going to happen next. 

     “Go ahead, Stellar Mensch, cum in me, please, please.” 

      Unquestionably, Stellar’s orgasm was enjoyable, but it was weird.  Right away, at first, he thought his weakened state was caused by unloading in the lady.  On second thought, careful consideration made him realize there was another reason why he felt like a back without a spine.    

        Unable to support his lover’s weight, Stellar released her.  Dismounting was difficult because of the workout out her cunt got.  Unsteady but determined, the female stood up.  Her legs had all the sturdiness of cooked string beans. 

       “Impossible, I am invulnerable to everything, except for a certain legume,” Stellar said as he collapsed on the ground. 

      “Clear across dimensions, I heard about your adventures.  Honestly, I always wanted to fuck you.”

       “Why am I so weak?  My powers, I’m losing my powers. What have you done to my powers?” 

      “To answer your question, I absorbed them.  Your every ability is at my disposal.   Anyhow, I truly enjoyed our union.  Granted, I’m selfish.  I got my sexual candy and the whole confectionary as well.”  

     “Who or what are you?” 

     “Soon enough, each member of your Law-abiding League will know my name.  I’m Sirenax Pheromona, the daughter of genetic engineering on planet Koevagex.  A morally flawed man, Dr. Alan Moreorless, and his staff created a perfect being—me.  I was used for military and espionage purposes.  Their plans for me, as well as their wars with other planets, destroyed them. I, being as durable as this world’s graphene, survived. Upon becoming masterless, I searched universes for a world to rule. This blue sphere will do.

       “Stellar Mensch, you’re unworthy of power.  A being of your strength should’ve procreated.  Only through breeding, you could’ve saved humanity.”

      “Wait, let me get this straight, you’re working with the terrorists.”

      “No, actually, they worked for me.  They’re solid holograms, illusions if you will. Utilizing technology your world cannot understand, I projected them for you and the passengers' benefit. Around about now, having served their purpose, they’ll fade away. My orgasm for you, on the contrary, was really real.  It won’t fade from my memory.”      

     Feeling strengthless, Stellar fell on the ground.  Succumbing to extreme fatigue, the hero passed out.  Had his lids not closed quickly, he would have watched the woman touch a series of buttons on her bracelet.  Quite inexplicably, by merely tapping on it, a beam of gold light surrounded Sirenax.  Somewhere around seven seconds into the illuminative moment, the woman vanished. 

***

     TV viewers and the entire Channel 3 news staff were disturbed by the sudden disappearance of Brett Ballsworthy. Up until then, he never missed a single broadcast. 

      The 6 pm broadcast continued, but quite a few female fans were disappointed about Brett’s absence.  Watching him on the program as they played with their clits made the evening news enjoyable.

     Further bewilderment came when there was a report of a kidnapping.  Real estate tycoon, Ron Plump, who was famous for his 12-inch silver pompadour, expensive suits, rotund stomach, casinos, high rises, and slum tenements, was being held for ransom. 

***

     Through an open window, a man swung into a dilapidated building with a grappling hook and rope.  His all-black outfit was composed of a domino mask, a Prague fedora, a heel-length cape, a suit, a multibuttoned wristwatch, a gun with a holster around his waist, and horse riding boots.  Rats scurried upon viewing the male’s arrival at midnight.        

     “I should’ve known that a detective of your caliber would have no problem finding Plump’s whereabouts,” a sultry voice said in the shadows. 

      “For someone brazen enough to kidnap, you should be brave enough to come out of hiding,” the disguised detective spoke with an authoritative baritone. 

    “First, before I reveal myself, tell me how you figured out this case.”     

     “In your ransom note, you said that ‘Selfish rich people deserve a place in Heaven the same way Hell deserves a water cooler.’ Plump’s worst building got condemned for numerous violations. It, as you know, is this building on Himmel Place.  Himmel is German for Heaven.”

     “Very good, you’re in indeed The Crusading Specter.” 

     “My intuition tells me that you’re not interested in the ransom money. Your goal is to learn about me."

      Out of the darkness, Sirenax emerged in a tight black jumpsuit with holes in it for the nipples, vagina, and ass.  Awestruck by Sirenax’s body and the overpowering scent of her pheromones, the masked hero found it hard to concentrate on arresting the woman.

    “It appears that I’m right after all. You want to know me. If you weren’t a conniving criminal, I’d be flattered. No matter what your intentions are, this encounter is going to end up with you in handcuffs.”

    “That should be fun. Do you enjoy cuffing women? Between you and me, I enjoyed tying Plump to a chair in the basement. He belongs with the dirt and vermin."

    “Agreed, but. . .”

     “You’ve been tailing me for a while now.  All those lonely hours atop rooftops, looking for my tail when what you really need is a piece of tail.  Nothing, not even your mask, can hide that look of lust on your face.  Nothing, not even the darkest outfit can obscure that ever-expanding bulge between your legs.  So, before putting me in a can, why don’t you fuck my can?”

    “My needs are secondary to this city’s need for justice.”

     “My sweet anus, not justice, is what will satisfy both of us.  Aren’t you tired of fighting criminals?  Guilt for your parents, those philanthropic oil tycoons, being killed by terrorists prevented you from having what you require as a man, Wayne Cranston.”

    “How do you know those things about me?”

    “You’re not the only person who does detective work.”

      Succumbing to the female’s pheromones and her alluring appearance, The Crusading Spector pulled down his trousers.  That mystery-cloaked bloke wanted a few strokes in that woman’s cute pooter.

      “Damn, there’s nothing average about you.  Boy, I hope this condom fits you, well-schlung hero. You’re pistol-hard and loaded with sperm bullets.”

     The same way a person would pop a piece of candy or gum in their mouth that was the same way Sirenax put a condom in her O-shaped mouth. Comfortable in the knowledge that the reservoir tip was facing in, and the ring was on the front of her pearly teeth, the fuck-ready lady pushed the condom over the orange-sized head of the Crusading Spector’s penis.   Exhibiting a pro’s know-how, she rolled the sheath down the wide wanger. 

     Under a tattered wicker chair, Sirenax retrieved her fanny pack.  Nervous about her movements, Specter peered over her shoulder.

     “Relax, there’s no weapon in here. I’m not going to shoot you.  Instead, you’re going to shoot me with that bun-slaying gun of yours.”

     From her pink fanny pack, she took out a tube of lube.  A nice-sized dollop was put on the condom and up Sirenax’s ass.  Her newly greased ass puckered excitedly.  Both anticipation and fear filled their minds.                  

     Those first few inches of his dick struggled to enter the small and tight space. Perhaps on par with a cock attempting entry in a closed fist, the femme fatale's fanny was ten times tighter than any vagina. 

     Initially, feeling a dick enter her ass caused discomfort and delight. The reverse movement of receiving something inside her butt as opposed to pushing something out was intense. Such a full feeling in the stern area affected her vagina. The driving motion in her backside made juices slide from her snatch. Excited through it all, Sirenax helped her orgasm along by furiously diddling her clit.  

     A certain nerve in the backside that reached from her vagina and vulva had all the sensation of the clitoris. Incredible amounts of contractions came from the sphincter. All-consuming currents best described as delightfulness overwhelmed the woman. 

     Seen as a pony designed for his amusement, Specter lovingly grabbed and lightly smacked Sirenax’s asscheeks.  That only made the rear ride even more rapturous. Realizing he only had a few strokes left in him before exploding in the pud protector, Specter kept thrusting harder and harder. He intended to make those last motions as meaningful as possible for both of them.

     “Go on and rip it apart. Tear that tush up, you fucking Great Dane.  You know what you’re doing. Damn, you got this bitch coming from everywhere. Ooooh, my clit, G-spot, and cervix are loving you. That’s it, that’s it, I’m, I’m giving that cum to you.”                   

      Unmistakably, Specter was enjoying the experience as well. With no thoughts about fighting criminals, he could just be himself.   Without the disguise of a tough guy, he was merely a man enjoying the wonderful architecture of a woman’s posterior. 

     Unintelligible words and phrases poured out of the crime fighter's mouth. Furthermore, groans that were as primitive as a grizzly bear came out of him as well. Once reduced to this savage state, he was no longer the analytical detective that criminologists around the world admired.         

      “What’s wrong with me? I can't think clearly.”

      “Don’t think, lover. All you need to know is you’re a great ass fucker.  But, regrettably, you're just a fair crimefighter. Anytime you worked on a case, the outcome was the same.  You failed to stop enough crooks. Therefore, you should've trained the police, armies, and the FBI in your techniques. 

       "Well, everything’s going to change now. I siphoned your intelligence and secrets.  Every bit of knowledge from your advanced technology to the whereabouts of the Vigilante Cave is in my head.  Now in possession of your cleverness, I’ll achieve what you can't."

     “Only a demented mind could devise such an evil plot."           

     “OK, obviously, you’re not a fan of my plan. It doesn’t matter. Ten minutes from now, you won’t be able to remember this conversation or your ABC’s.  However, I’ll always remember how good your cock was to me.”

        Memory upon memory got deleted from the Crusading Specter’s mind.  To stop the degenerative process, he focused on these words: Crime is poison ivy that I must uproot.     

       Always a determined person even to the end, the disguised detective activated a distress beacon in his watch.  It sent a message to Stellar Mensch, Clint Sprinter, Fantastic Titaness, and Tye Cyborg. 

          Through a fog of bafflement, the defeated fighter for justice watched his nemesis slowly disappear.