“Damn, I'm sexy.” Vicki said as she swaggered past the mirror.
Vicki Vega had no problem admitting she was sexy as hell. And who could disagree with her? She was a knockout at 5' 10” with legs up to her neck. She had lustrous, jet black hair that ran halfway down her back. Her eyes were the same shade of green as the sea right before a squall. Vicki sported an amazing pair of perky 38 D cups. Her Columbian, olive toned skin set off all of her features quite nicely. Vicki sat down in front of her vanity mirror, and began applying a layer of cover up.
“You can never be too sexy.” She said, looking in the mirror admiring her beauty.
Vicki was getting ready for a night of romping. Although she loved sex, tonight is about re-upping those pheromones she so desperately needed in order for her body to produce it's toxic venom. Vicki Vega's day job is a model for Victoria's Secret. By night, she takes on the alter ego of super villain, Venomess. Venomess could paralyze a person with just a kiss. A bite or scratch would cause death if the victim got a single drop of venom into their blood. Venomess' venom is a hemotoxin, similar to that of a rattlesnake. Once in the bloodstream, the venom begins to destroy muscle tissue. But tonight isn't about Venomess, it's about Vicki getting laid.
Finding a willing participant isn't the problem. Vicki is beauty personified, and she could get practically any man she wanted, and almost any woman for that matter. The problem is finding a very masculine man. The bigger, the better. Vicki preferred having sex with guys who were on steroids. Men who juiced produced the most pheromones that she needed in order to produce venom. Vicki isn't going to the bar or a club to pick up a guy, it is off to the gym for her.
“Watch out boys, here I come.” Vicki said, walking out of her $100 million mansion, and setting the alarm.
Vicki hopped into her Ferrari F430 Spider and lit up the tires, as she pulled out of the driveway. Her face lit up with joy at the sound of the roaring engine. After a short ride, Vicki pulled into the parking lot of Extreme Fitness gym. She eyed the cars in the lot, using them to scout out the potential inside.
“Mini van. No soccer dads for me, thank you.” Vicki said. “PT Cruiser, more like PT loser. Chrysler 300 M. Getting better. Ah, Dodge Viper. Now let's see if we can't find your owner, honey.” Vicki said, as she made her way toward the entrance of the gym.
Vicki winked at the employee behind the front desk, and he fumbled to buzz her through the door. She didn't even have a membership there, and didn't need one. Vicki loved reaping the rewards of being a well-endowed model. She never paid for drinks at the bar, never had to wait in line, and never felt like anything less than a goddess when she walked into a room full of men. Vicki was always the center, and she loved every minute of it.
The Victoria's Secret angel sauntered past the nautilus room, and made her way into the free-weight room. She didn't need any of those old heads or posers that worked out with nautilus equipment. No, she craved the musky pheromones secreted by the bicep bulging meatheads who used free-weights. Spotters quickly lost focus when Vicki swayed into the gym, and a few of the guys who were working out struggled without help from them. Vicki got a laugh from that. She scanned the gym for a guy with the best body mass index. She needed someone with little fat, and solid muscle. Vicki looked past a few older gentleman who were working out their legs. She snickered at an 18 year old guy who was curling 15 pound dumb bells.
“Aha.” Vicki said excitingly as she saw a brawny man bench-pressing 400 pounds. “This is my guy. I hope your stamina is as good in bed as it is in the gym.” She whispered.
Vicki, clad in a royal blue tube top (without a bra), a pair of white skin tight shorts that barely covered her ass cheeks, and a pair of Gucci flip-flops, walked dreamily over to the muscle-bound man. He had just finished a set, and put the weight bar back on the rack, and sat up to see this sexy woman dressed in attire that didn't exactly look like workout clothes.
“Hi, my name's Vicki. I was wondering if you could help spot me for a few exercises.” She said. “My friend was supposed to meet me here to work out, but he bailed on me. Will you help me out?” Vicki asked the sweat drenched man.
“Sure.” The HGH enhanced man said to her, wiping sweat off of his head. “I just finished up my workout.” He lied. “I'm Hank.” He added.
“More like hunk.” Vicki thought.
Hank followed Vicki over to a workout mat she had set out on an open spot of the gym floor. She bent over on the mat arching her well-shaped ass up in Hank's face, while she held herself up with her hands in a yoga position.
“I just need you to grab my hips, and spot me while I stretch.” Vicki breathed slowly.
“No problem.” Hank said as he quickly squeezed the young woman's hips with his meat hooks.
Vicki was surprised by Hank's strength. His grip was firm. “Let's hope he doesn't have a problem getting firm later.” She thought.
“Mmmm, that's good right there.” Vicki said in a sexy voice. “Okay, time for some lower back stretches.” She decided.
Vicki turned over and rested on her back while she explained to Hank what she needed him to do. “I'm going to arch my back up and off the floor. I need you to rest your hand on the small of my back for support. Do you think you can manage that one, tiger?” She asked Hank.
“I got ya, babe.” He flirted back.
Vicki positioned herself like a crab and lifted her back up off the ground, and signaled for Hank to spot her. He placed his hand low on her back. The tips of his fingers were resting on the top of her cheeks. Vicki smiled at this, and Hank shot her a wink. Vicki held the stretch for about thirty seconds longer than she normally did.
“Alright. Thanks, Hank. That about does it for me.” Vicki stated. “Hey, I was about to go home and make a protein shake. Wanna join me?” Vicki asked Hank, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah, that sounds great. I was about to go do the same.” Hank answered.
He followed her out to the parking lot, and opened the door of Vicki's Ferrari for her. “So I'll follow you then.” Hank said as he closed the car door. Vicki looked in her rear view to find Hank getting into the Dodge Viper. “Ha, knew it.” She said pridefully.
© Copyright 2016 Matthew Zabala. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Fantasy
Poem / Religion and Spirituality
Essay / Travel
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