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“Hold this,” she said. “I’ll hold your dick.” I have since seen many naked women in person, but Mrs. B. was one of the most memorable. Pure white, lightly freckled skin, perky B-cup tits, trimmed, fiery red pussy hair matching her long, red tresses. “Take a drink,” she invited, smiling warmly at me as she stroked my soapy shaft and played with my balls. The drink was vodka and OJ, strong but not incapacitating. I chugged about half and offered it to Mrs. B. She chugged the rest, set down the cup and returned to playing with my cock and balls.“God, you look beautiful, Mrs. B. So hot.”

“Here. Like that. You’ll make me cum.” She withdrew her hand and began to paw at my belt buckle. She opened my pants roughly and plunged her hands through the waistband of my underwear, grasping my ball sack with one hand, wrapping the fingers of her other hand around my shaft, stroking me hard. If I hadn’t already jacked off twice that day, I would have cum right there. Mrs. B. was staring me in the face, looking stern, but her face was reddening and her breathing more rapid with her oncoming orgasm.

The ref raised his arm. “Welcome to the fifth round of the tournament! We start with our remaining winged combatants, Roc and Ingram!” As the audience cheered in anticipation, the two foes glared each other down. Normally, Roc would enter the ring with a stoic scowl, sharpening his mind for battle while spitefully feeding on the boos from beastman haters, but this time, he was smiling.