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Empire - City of Lost Cause (Black_Out and meomeo)

~The Hammer’s tale~ ​

A piece of metal alloy, broken off an alien spacecraft, hurtled through the dark void until it entered a blue planet’s atmosphere in a fiery blaze. Its long journey ended at the bottom of a deep gorge, where it stayed, forgotten and inert.

A village girl out gathering firewood was waylaid by wild wolves. Deciding a quick death was preferable to being the pack’s dinner, she leapt off a cliff into a deep, stony gorge. Instead of death, the girl found the meteor stone, and a bond for the ages was formed.

Weeks later, raiders numbering two dozen paid her tribe an unwelcome visit. Their goal to plunder and enslave. Instead they met death, in the form of a warrior-ess wielding a strange hammer and even stranger, otherworldly powers.

The hammer found itself born into the age of brawn and savagery. Descendants of the village girl sated the Hammer with constant warfare and blood of foes. In return, the Hammer granted the girls powers of flight, of mastery over lightning, of self-healing. It didn’t stop there. To ensure the continuation of the Olsen line, the Hammer worked its mysterious powers to make them desirable to potential mates. Olsen women were talked of as goddesses, and tend to resemble the same. Tall with shimmering golden hair, with lean legs, firm buttocks, narrow waists, and voluptuous breasts.

But for all its powers, the Hammer couldn’t beat back the advancement of civilization and technology. The age of warfare passed. Less problems require solving by a lightning bolt to the head. One day, the incumbent holder, an airheaded, butter-fingered millennial named Vallie, even had the nerve the pack it inside a suitcase, where it jangled among other antique memorabilia carrying too much sentimental value to go straight to the trash. The Hammer collected dust in the dark, lusting bitterly for battles like old times. And the sentient meteor made a decision – perhaps it was time to move on from the Olsen bloodline.

When it finally emerged from the suitcase, the Hammer still answered to Vallie. But the girl was clumsy... unworthy. She couldn’t keep her mitts on the Hammer if she tried. Though it continued to serve the Olsen girl, it kept a figurative eye out for a new worthy host. For another human woman to come in contact. For it was with women who it forms the strongest bonds.

On the train tracks, it got picked up by Allison Weaver - albeit briefly. It was enough time for the Hammer to learn that she was shrewd, driven, and quick-witted. It marked her, by imbuing a sliver of power within the girl.

In the hospital, it was briefly held by Sandra “Sandy” Bittencourt. Although her tiny physique left some to be desired, the Hammer saw potential in her youth and spirit. It marked her as well, by imbuing a sliver of power within the girl.

So it was, by some extra-terrestrial power yet to be comprehensible by modern science, Vallie, Allison and Sandy were bonded inside the Hammer’s power sphere. Though none of them are wise to it yet. But currently, the Hammer is powerless to aid them in their plight. Two of them are out cold, while Vallie…

******​

Her heart pounded before the bloodcurdling sight. Rabid eyes, sharp fangs, and saliva frothing at the corners of its muzzle.

“Goooood doggie. Stay. Shh-shhh-shh... Gooood boooy...” Vallie cooed, as she backed away from the angry hound in slow motion. But she was running out of space. A few more steps back, she would bump into the mass of homeless who had appeared out of the shadowy alleyways. She risked taking her eyes off the pitbull for just a second and glanced behind her shoulder. The sight and smell of the dirty vagrants disgusted her... and there was that strange woman, still having trouble with her phone. She is trying to contact someone, Vallie thought grimly. A certain villain, perhaps? If so, she has no time to lose.

“You guys gonna help?” she asked through gritted teeth. She knew the answer already.

An idea came to her. Very slowly - so as not to startle the hound any more - she took off her jacket by slipping one arm out of it after the next. From behind she heard wolf whistles and catcalls. At the sight of her bare upper arms, the men took turns to say ungentlemanly words which Vallie didn’t bother to catch. She has to be 100% focused on the pitbull.

All of a sudden, Vallie threw the denim garment into the air behind the dog. She saw its beady eyes follow its trajectory... and that was her cue to RUN. Her sneakers kicked against the hard pavement, and the gym trainer took off towards O’Sheary’s neon sign. Raindrops splattered against her face, her lungs bursted painfully, the sound of her heartbeat pounded her eardrums. Vallie ran for her life. She didn't dare to look back... to see if the crazed pitbull would take after her. Her breast (unbound by a bra) threatened to spill out of that tight dress. The air draft billowed the hem of her skirt high. But she didn't care... or rather had no time to care. O'Sheary's is getting closer. Where Andrew and her Hammer is.
 
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The dingy green door to O'Sheary's grew closer with every long stride that Vallie took. The cluster of amused homeless folk were left far behind, as none bothered to give chase. They glanced after her though, while the nappy haired woman wrestled with her dog as she attempted to claim her discarded jacket. If they had known who she was, and who wanted their hands on her, things might have been different. But word hadn't reached them yet, and wouldn't until that woman finally got around to seeing the text message that was sent to her phone.

The doorway swung open, left swaying back and forth until it finally lost momentum and slammed shut behind Vallie as she burst into the seedy establishment that was O'Sheary's. The music was blaring loud from speakers as the selection from the juke box drowned out the loud voices of the patrons within. Her sudden entrance certainly drew some attention her way as a handful of faces turned from their mugs of beer and glasses of booze towards the doorway and the attractively fit petite blonde number that was catching her breath. Abruptly a hand slapped right across Vallie's tightly bundled breasts as a bald headed man somewhere in her age bracket sized her up with a welcoming smile.

"Woah there sug." The burly bouncer looked amused as he let his brown eyes meet Vallie's after a moment of peering down into her cleavage. "Ah, you look twenty one, go on in hun." With a pat on her back he let her pass as he turned to resume chatting with a man with a worn deeply tanned face that had the look of a wise old Indian elder with a bikers garb in place of the traditional garb.

The entire place was full of smoke that rose upwards and crawled along the tobacco stained white panels of the ceiling. Television monitors displayed a host of sporting events, a hockey game on one tube, another with a collegiate football game, and yet another with some rough house over the top theatrical wrestling fought for the attentions of the bars rough clientele. None of those diversions though drew as much attention as Vallie did. She was probably the hottest thing to end up in this seedy dive bar full of lower class working folk and general ruffians then anyone inside could recently recall.

She was a prize, like a stripper in a dance club that drew their eyes towards her, eager to watch her every move as she worked her way towards the back room that seemed so much further away then it really was. Scornfully jealous eyes from a few of the other ladies in the bar watched her as well, giving stabbing looks towards their men if they dared let their admiring eyes linger on Vallie for too long. The pair of bartenders didn't take notice of her though, far to busy slinging beer and pouring shots to spare a moments glance her way over the front of the crowded bar.

Through the cluster of people that mingled in the narrow lane between the front door and the back room, Vallie could see him. Andrew, sitting alone at a table that was obviously askew. There was a plastic pitcher of some deep amber colored beer and two plastic cups, one of which was full. If he noticed her, he gave no outward indication that he did as he took a deep swig of his beer.

Halfway through the crowded tangle of people, an arm swept around Vallie's shoulder. It belonged to a sturdy lean young man with a buzz cut of brown hair that looked like your typical tattoo covered skate or die punk. The smell of booze floated out of his breath and washed over her as he tried to tug her over to his side. "Hey, don't, don't I know ya, you look familiar?" He slurred out as he tried to drag her over towards his friends that were glancing up towards her from around a small green topped table that held their drinks. "Come on, meet the fella's, let's have some fun!"
 
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Vallie slowed to a jog as the angry barking receded farther and farther away. Still, she came through the bar entrance with her heart racing and sucking in air by the mouthful. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a grimy mirror - hair frazzled by the drizzling rain, a wild and scared look in her eyes. Vallie shut her eyes and took a deep breath to compose herself. After all the crap she went through - what happened in the alley, on the bus, the brief run-in with the group of homeless and a rabid dog - she had finally managed to reach O'Sheary's... The worst is over...

She gasped! A large hand just pawed her boobs, then a push at the smalls of her back nudged her inside the seedy establishment. She spun around, ready to unleash hell... only her gaze travelled upwards to a bald man quite literally twice her own size. "Ah, you look twenty one, go on in hun." Evidently the bouncer too. She wisely held her tongue, knowing he could easily have her thrown back out on the streets. She had no choice but to settle for giving him her angriest glare before she slipped into the crowd.

Another guy who would have to pay, once she gets her hands on her hammer.

Blaring jukebox music assaulted her ears. Rank tobacco smoke stung her eyes. But nothing bothered Vallie more than the attention she was receiving. Heads turned and eyes roved as she moved towards the back of the bar, none of them welcoming. Vallie felt so conscious - she kept her own eyes on the floor, and pressed her skirt to her legs. God, she wished Sandy had worn something less attention-grabbing... a longer dress, or anything that covered her arms. "Excuse me. Sorry." she muttered, everyone seemed to be getting in her way. Deeper she navigated into this den of sins. And then she caught a glimpse of Andrew. Despite her latest opinion of him, she perked up, a smile forming on her lips...

... before a forceful tug on her shoulders pulled her from the aisle towards a dimly-lit booth with a green table. As a fitness instructor, Vallie wouldn't be easily manhandled by a guy her size. But he had the element of surprise, and Vallie was still gassed from her sprint. She half fell, half stumbled into the booth, with a curved seat lined with emerald green leather which was sagging and stained. Only Vallie didn't end up on the seat. The guy used her momentum to pull her onto his lap. And within a space of minutes, Vallie again found herself in such a humiliating and vulnerable position. She looked up to see four or five pair of eyes greeting her. One of them was a bleached blonde with dark roots, who wore a lot of eyeliner and had half her face pierced. The rest were very horny guys. Or at least they appeared to be.

"Come on, meet the fella's, let's have some fun!"

"Thanks... but no thanks. I'm meeting someone. And trust me, you lot wouldn't wanna get on his bad side."

As Vallie said that, she began to push herself up from the man's lap. But at that moment, through the cacophony of sounds, her ears picked up on a stream of words "... breaking news... hospital attack... Vagabond... the very same hospital where train station heroine Hammer Time was recovering... missing..." Out of the corner of her eye she watched the overhead TV monitor nearest her table. There must be a commercial break in the sports show, which had cut to a breaking news segment. The screen flashed, and all of a sudden Vallie Olsen's own mug took up a quarter of the monitor.

If she stood up now, the whole table's gaze would follow her to the TV. Somehow, Vallie realized she couldn't allow that to happen. She had used her 'fame' to bluff her way out on the bus. She had a feeling it wouldn't work in the packed pub. In fact, it would probably backfire if her identity is outed here. She had to draw the table's attention away from the TV...

She sat back down, grimacing inside as her (panty-less) ass sat directly on the guy's pants.

"... buuut I don't think he's here yet. What... um... what were you guys up to? You come to O'Sheary's often? It's... uh... it's my first time here." She blabbered. From her peripheral vision, she saw that her own face was still on the screen...
 
"What kind of guy keeps a pretty thing like you waiting?" The young punk's words slurred tauntingly along the side of Vallie's head after she willingly lowered herself back onto his eager lap. His lean thighs shifted further apart, granting her tight rear a space to sink into upon his lap as he spread his wiry arms around her waist and clenched her against him.

A fella with a wide and stubby short mo-hawk on the other side of the rickety beer splattered table leaned forward to engage in conversation. "We come here all the time, right old regulars, I'm Chad." He motioned to himself with the tip of his thumb. "Fella who's lap your getting all cozy with is Eric, that's Pen.." He turned his thumb away from his gaunt neck and gestured to the pierce laden bleach blonde at his side. "..and that's Tim." His finger pointed then to a thick boned chunky fella seated behind her.

With the introductions out of the way Chad slipped back and draped his arm around the girl at his side, nearly taking a gander over his shoulder to the crowded bar, but turning back to look to Vallie as he reached forward and filled up a mug of beer for her and slid it across towards her. "Who is it your meeting out here?"

Before she could answer, before the beer could be lifted up to her lips the familiar voice of the door man filled the room. He had moved away from the entrance and was elevating himself with one foot on the bar railing to lift his bald head up over the crowd as he called out in a loud voice. "Hey, we got ourselves a right old celebrity in our midst tonight!" His gaze passed over the room, settling on Vallie whom he offered a wink towards before he turned to the bartender. "Skip this shit, this song's for you Hammer Time!"

The amused look of the bartender's face turned away from the bouncer as he reached down to press a small button on a panel by the register and immediately the song blaring on the jukebox was cut off as a new melody began to thump out over the speakers. As the pop rap song began to blare out through the tiny dingy tavern the mood seemed to immediately shift in the place to one that was both amused and fondly reminiscent of a song from the youthful days of many of the patrons. A chorus of voices familiar with the uptempo song belted out the lyrics, singing along in a haphazard fashion. Fortunately it didn't quite seem that the bouncer's announcement had drawn any attentions or resonated in anyway with most of the tavern patrons as no one seemed to connect the dots, at least not that Vallie could tell.

"Yeah, so who you waiting for?" Eric blurted out over the music as he shifted his hands down to stroke over Vallie's thighs as the cramped tavern hummed around them with the energy the song was providing. Once more, before she could answer a large form parted the standing room crowd and loomed over the occupants of the table around her. It was Andy, and he had a right bit of a pissed off look on his face that fell squarely on Eric who gulped so hard that Vallie could feel it reverberate through him and into her.

"She's waiting for me." His thick lips curled up at one side into a snarl as he reached one hand down and took Vallie by the wrist, pulling her up out of the stunned punks lap. Eric sputtered, for a moment looking like he was going to say something in a challenging way before he slunk back into his chair while the rest of his cohorts laughed uneasily as Andy drew Vallie up and pulled her to his side. "Uh, sure man, sure, we we, were just keeping her company, ya know?"

Andy simply nodded once before looking over to Vallie as he kept one arm tight around her slender waist line as he turned and led her towards the back room. "Are you alright?" He spoke loudly, his voice cutting over the obnoxiously loud music that was pumping out of the speakers as he drew her into the small back room and led her to a reclusive table with two empty chairs upon which a pitcher of deep amber colored beer sat along with two frosty mugs, one empty, the other half full.

His thick brutish arm untangled itself from around her hips as the massive man shifted his weight down onto one of the empty chairs as he looked up to Vallie. "Have a seat, let's talk."
 
Vallie couldn't rein in the effect Andrew had on her tired body and frayed mind.

She stumbled onto her feet and was set straight by him. She had been rescued and claimed, and instinctively - as if Eric and his cohorts needed further discouragement - she drew her body even closer to Andrew's. His hewed muscular body felt like a warm comfort blanket in this inhospitable tavern.

He pulled her snugly to him. His arm encircled her small waist, his hand resting just over her tight abs. She felt, through the thin material of Sandy's H&M dress, every bulge of muscles on his tree branch-like arm. He must be able to sense her quivering body and rather rapid breathing as he held her. If not, then certainly the side of her boob squishing against his hips, and the rise of her worked-out ass under his arm. Perhaps even the fact that there was no panty line through her dress...

Vallie's knees went weak at the overt display of raw masculinity. She would hardly be able to stand if he was not propping her up.

She was led further into the seedy pub. The music thumped inside her ears. She continued to draw ogles and stares... although not as brazen anymore thanks to her companion no doubt. She tried breathing normally to clear her head. It wouldn't help behaving and thinking like a hormone-charged teenager.

"Have a seat, let's talk."

By the time Vallie sat down on the empty chair, she had regained most her good senses, although her sensibilities still caused butterflies to flutter inside her stomach when Andrew hulked across the small wooden table... which she tried to suppress as she began her rant.

"I"m NOT alright. What were you thinking - making me trek all the way to this slum? You can't imagine the shit I got through just to get here. I was almost mugged, almost... molested, chased by a pack of stray dogs. You almost got me killed, you know that!?" She didn't know why she had to embellish her story, but she did. Fire spit out of her eyes. Her shoulders shook angrily. She raised her voice further so he could hear her through the deafening speakers. "You probably figured right, yes, Garrison sent me to find out what happened. If you wanna put some real hurt on me like you did to the rest of 'em, then I guess I'm shit out of luck. But seeing you haven't done that yet, I think you don't plan to at all. How about this: I pretend I never saw you, that tonight never happened. I'll go back and report that I found nothing. You go on with whatever..." Her finger drew imaginary circles in the air. "... you got brewing here. I get to go on with my life. Sounds like a win for both of us?"

"Now, gimme back my hammer, and I'll get out of your hair." Vallie extend her hand over the empty beer mug, palm upwards.
 
Andrew listened as Vallie went off on her rant. Of course she was making some valid points, but the manner in which she was tossing out her wild accusations towards him caused his teeth to clench. They ground together as his wide jaw went rigid. His normally cool demeanor was being pushed to it's limits as she stuck her hand in his face and demanded her hammer back. The Crimson Marauder felt a low rumble of anger brewing in his throat. His mouth opened and he was about to snap back at her and tell her off, but he caught himself and tucked his head down and gathered his wits with a deep breath that caused his bulging chest to swell.

"Your gonna sit down, and your going to fucking listen." His head swiveled back up and stared intently upon Vallie as he reached his thick meaty hand up and gently pushed her hand out of his face. "Your not gonna say a word, just pour yourself a beer, because you have no idea what really is going on with the Garrison."

One of his boots kicked under the table and shoved the chair out for her to settle down upon. Regardless of whether Vallie actually sat on it, despite any further comments she might make, Andrew continued to talk with a very grave look of concern on his face.

"I didn't do shit." His stubby brutish fingers clasped around his half empty mug of beer. "They were my friends, some were more then friends." His gaze softened, eyes lingering on hers before looking to his beer. "Sure I didn't like all of them, but we were a damn team. We had each others backs, so don't stand there and accuse me of killing them." The mug was lifted to his lips and he took a quick sip to moisten his throat.

"I don't know what the Garrison told you, but I'm sure it's a bunch of fucking lies." The mug was settled back down on the table and his hand idly turned it around as he took a deep breath. "I"m sorry that I put you through shit to get to this point, but at this juncture, I don't know who to trust right now. I had to be sure they weren't watching you, monitoring you, following you."

"Do you want to know what's really going on? Fucking Simon is a vile piece of shit. He has insurance policies out on all of us. Insurance policies that put a hefty chunk of change in the Garrison's pockets in the event that we get killed. He's rebooting the whole fucking program, and killing us off to fund the whole fucking thing. His newest recruit, the one who killed every single one of our team told me as such when he was all gloating over Kelly, you know the Midnight Angel's dead body after he snapped her neck."

Andrew's hand washed over his face, the memory of that encounter drawing tears to the fringes of his eyes. "I only lived because of my ability to absorb punishment. He was gonna bury me in concrete Vallie, he beat me to a pulp, but Angel showed up, she bought me time, saved my life by sacrificing her own. Fucker said we were both worth ten million dollars dead to the Garrison. They probably sent you, because they know about our past flings, figured you could draw me out, and they're right, because I care about you Vallie. But were in danger here, the Garrison is the enemy, they might not know it, but Simon is the head and he wants us dead, who knows what lies and fabrications that bastard is spinning to the rest of the agency."

There was a brief pause as Andrew took a gulp and regathered his composure. "The guy whose hunting me, and most likely you, the bastard who took out everyone in our group, he calls himself Live Wire and he's way more powerful then I am."
 
Andrew's revelations hit her like a truck.

Vallie propped her elbows on the table, her knuckles kneading circles into the sides of her head. But the throbbing in her temples persisted. The noise made her ears ring, and the boisterous tavern spun around her like a carousel in a nightmarish playground. Scattered images flitted across her mind: lying prone on train tracks slowly losing feeling in her limbs; a half-naked girl left unconscious in an alley; the theatrical, top hat-wearing trickster grinning as he approaches; horny, leering men every corner she turns, their dirty fingers snaking towards her. She felt an unpleasant dryness in her mouth, and a chill crept up her spine.

She racked her brains to find holes - any contradictions at all - in his story. Perhaps he has some other motive to concoct this whole sordid tale to trick her into... something? But she couldn't think properly. Events and words jumbled messily inside her head. Then it hit her, shouldn't she be relieved to know Andrew is on her side?

Sure... except for the fact that her employers had played her like a fool, used her as bait, and marked her for death.

Vallie raised her eyes, which were dazed and unfocused, and met his. "But, why me? I'm a nobody, they could've just let me be... I won't be any trouble..." her wispy voice trailed off. She needed a drink to calm herself and poured beer until her mug was half full. She drained a good deal of it until her stomach protested with a low grumble. She was reminded how hungry she was. When did she last eat... was it on the train into the city?

She emptied the mug anyways. The ice cold brew seemed to jolt her to her senses, if only for a moment. She gathered loose strands of hair and tucked them neatly behind her ears, and shifted forward on her seat until her upper body leaned over the tabletop. "Well, sounds like I am... or we're pretty done for. Or do you have a plan to get out? You've managed to stay one step ahead of them so far... and, you know, now that two are better than one..."
 
Andrew leaned forward as well, mirroring Vallie's posture over the table as they spoke in their hushed tones. His eyes flickered from her lips to her eyes, briefly down into the ample cleavage prominently displayed before looking back into her eyes. "I haven't heard a peep since the second team was taken out by Live Wire. Maybe he's just bidding his time, waiting for me to slip up." He spoke softly as he settled one of his thick hands over top Vallie's.

"Regardless, you've had a hell of a day already." His lips murmured in a whisper while his wide fingers stroked across the back of her hand gently. With their faces literally a foot apart now Andrew couldn't help but admire every little dimple on Vallie's cheeks. He could feel his muscular heart pounding in his chest, in fact he could hear it thumping away. Just her sheer presence alone was enough to rekindle old feelings from their lustful, passionate, late night rendezvous.

"What do you say we finish these drinks up?" One of his tree trunk sized legs slid forward as his black leather steel tipped boot rubbed up against the inside of Vallie's leg. "Get your hammer." His massive fingers encompassed her smaller digits, lightly caressing them in his grasp as his gaze intently remained focused on her own that were just a short breath across the table from him. "Go back to my place, maybe order some pizza..." His gaze wandered down to the fullness of her beer moistened lips before looking back into the core of her eyes. "..and see if we can figure out what to do."

By this time the brief flashes of her image on the television monitors had long since given way back to the various sporting events being broad cast. Most weren't even aware of Vallie, beside's the doorman, whose earlier outburst had alerted a starving artist who had fallen under the Vagabond's care to her presence. Unlike the drunks in the alley, he knew how to work his phone.

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Outside of O'sheary's a lumbering form approached from the darkness of an alley. A massive, monstrous form with a neck as thick as a tire. As the dark silhouette passed beneath a street light the nightmarish monstrosity was revealed, the Vagabond's muscle, the Killer Komodo. The curling sharp claws of his feet scratched across the pavement while his wrecking ball of a tail swayed behind him in the wake of his movements. Dirty yellow reptilian eyes fixated on the dinged up metallic front door of the pub before his broad deep forest green neck turned his gaze back behind him.

"Watchhh thha backsss doorsss." His gravely hissing voice spoke into the darkness in the alley he had emerged from. "Seeee thaaasss she doesssn't get...awaysss thisss time." His eyes blinked once as a flood of homeless hooligans rambled out of the alleyway and cut across the street. "I'll flusssshhh hersss tooo yousss." At least a dozen raggedly dressed figures skittered through the darkness and down into the alley that ran along the open side of the dingy little corner bar.

They loitered there in the shadows around the side exit, the only other way out of O'sheary's besides the front door. Lengths of chain were wound around some fists, while others held bent and rusted metal rods, several held long forgotten tattered leather belts, the rest waited with bare hands.

The Killer Komodo plodded across the street. His grinding maw opened wide, displaying his horrid rows of jagged teeth. The long curling tongue slithered forward, licked across his crackled lips, leaving a glob of his saliva drenching downward along his jaw. Dense claws caked with dirt gathered up the poisonous saliva, giving the already deadly nails a further advantage.

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Back inside the raucous tavern a new song blared over the speakers as Andy chugged down the last of his beer and pushed the empty mug up against the wall. "I stashed your hammer in the men's room, under the sink. I figured no one was gonna move it, I can barely lift the thing." He went to stand, latching his fingers around Vallie's hand as he turned to lead her into the bathroom. "Come on, ain't no one gonna say shit." He reassured her as he pulled her into the empty bathroom stall and shut the door, latching the bolt in place.
 
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Under other circumstances, Vallie might have found the sudden show of affection jarring. A second ago they were talking about deadly conspiracies and killer villains. Hardly the best time to be playing footsie like a pair of over-eager high schoolers! But once the warmth of his hand enveloped hers, and his thick fingers began stroking, her worries and any resistance to his advances seemed to just melt away. The way he swooped in and whisked her away from the booth, and now this. It's so reassuring to be under the care and protection of someone like Andrew... particularly after the day she's had. All she wants is to relax, lose herself in his blazing gaze, and be taken care of. Andrew is exactly who she needed.

"So we're in terrible danger, and each meal could be our last - and we're getting take-out pizza?" Vallie replied with a playful smirk, in a poor attempt at humor. But she didn't shoot down his innuendo-laced suggestion. Frankly, if he had not offered, she would probably have asked. After all, is there a safer place in the city?

"Fine, but only if it's the best in town. They better still deliver at this hour!" The moment Vallie rose from her chair, it hit her why she succumbed so easily. The half pint of beer had gone to her head real fast. She was no lightweight drinker, but she did drink on an empty stomach, and rather too quickly for her own good. Vallie felt a breezy lightheadedness and a pleasant tingling course through her body as she waded deeper into the bar.

***​

The way to the men's room took them past the ladies', where a trio of female revelers waited their turn on the john (the bar was ninety percent guys - figure that out!). Vallie felt their disapproving looks from a mile off.

Ugh, this isn't what it looks like - as if a girl like me would ever put out in the guys' toilet in a seedy dive bar like this! Or were they just envious? With a sideway glance as they hurried past, Vallie saw their garishly made-up eyes stare fixedly at Andrew's massive frame. She also spotted muffin tops squeezing out from bands of miniskirts, gaudy piercings, and three pairs of oversized but clearly fake boobs.. and felt a triumphant boost of ego. Yeah I bet you bitches get wet just looking at him. Dream on. And you know what? I've lost count how many times this hunk had screwed me senseless... and yeah he's as big as you imagine. Boo on you.

"You ain't even worth a ten dollar room, toilet skank. Fuck outta here." Despite the thumping music, Vallie heard one of the women spat hatefully, just as Andrew slid the lock. She swallowed her anger and stifled the urge to react to the provocation. She's not worth ruining the evening.

****​

"You owe me for bringing me to this freaking bar. And stashing my hammer in here? Really? Of all places?!" Vallie protested crossly once they were inside the privacy offered by the toilet. The men's bathroom was everything she imagined and, in fact, disgusting. Questionable puddles blotted the floor tiles. Juvenile, indecent scrawls everywhere she looked. An overflowing wastebasket. And the smell. Gosh the smell. Vallie would have pinched her nose if she didn't care to look like a prudish white girl.

But Vallie's tantrum was more playful than anything else. She had no intention to remain here long. She made a beeline for the sink and retrieved her hammer from the coils of rusted pipes beneath. It meant she had to bend at the waist... and Vallie felt the fabric of the dress rub against her ass, and the cool air on her exposed flesh. Even though she couldn't see, she sensed his eyes trained on her - on the smooth curves of her workout-toned thighs, her coltish calves, and whatever showed under the flowy hem...

Vallie felt her pulse quicken. A knot tighten in her stomach.

She caught her reflection in the mirror above the sink when she straightened up. Though the job done by the make-up lady in the hospital still held up good (if nothing else, she look way less tired than she really is), the rain outside had made her hair frizzy. "Hold this for a sec?" she asked, without turning around, and handed off the hammer to him. For the next minute, Vallie prettied up in the smudgy mirror - running her fingers slowly through her hair, and touching up her make-up with the tips of her fingers. She was suddenly reminded of a familiar scene: many times after their hookups, she would sit at his desk before a mirror - naked, or sometimes in her underwear - fixing her hair and redoing her makeup. He would look on from the bed. There were times he would pounce up from the sheets... meaning Vallie would have to refix her hair and redo her makeup some later time.

She still felt his eyes on her. Her stomach tightened another notch.

Finally decided she looked presentable enough, Vallie would turn around, her fingers intertwined with his as she pried the hammer from his hand, and said "C'mon big boy, let's get outta here."
 
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Andrew did indeed watch, reflecting on those very same memories when Vallie would inevitably go about tidying herself up after a rigorous session of fucking. Never once would she complain, on those occasions when he would intrude upon her ritual of vanity. She might make a quip, or sound a false protest, but once his burly barrel thick arms were around her slender waist and his lips locked around the side of her neckline, she eagerly relented. The Crimson Marauder had half a mind to pin her against that rickety white slab of a sink and have at her here and now, but Vallie spun around before that thought could manifest to action.

"Huh.." Was for the moment all that Andrew could blurt out as she twined her fingers around his and reclaimed the burdensome hammer from his grasp. Despite his formidable strength, that thing was a pain in the ass to lug around, and as his mind pulled out of it's lustful wanderings he took a moment to admire just how easily Vallie seemed to wield it.

Andrew's right arm, bristling with cords of muscle, slipped around her waist as she turned to lead them out of the cramped confines of the men's stall. His beefy palm flattened against her equally toned and smooth belly as his elbow notched at her side. His left hand swung the door open and he murmured into her ear as they stepped outside. "Ya ever think of putting a wrist strap on that thing, something to keep ya from loosing hold of it?" He had always meant to offer the suggestion, but didn't quite want to bumble the whole thing and end up offending her.

As the duo stepped through the open door and back into the maelstrom of drunkenness, Andrew paused as he kept his chin hovering over Vallie's shoulder. At least this way they didn't have to scream over the crowd to have a conversation, and as he listened to her reply he shuffled her along towards the front entrance. The beady bloodshot eyes of the artist took note of Vallie's approach towards the front entrance of the pub and he recoiled instinctively when his eyes passed over the looming mass that was Andrew escorting her through the crowd.

Then the front door swung outward and a dark silhouette all but blotted out the light from the street beyond it. Andrew didn't take notice, his eyes were far to deeply sunk into Vallie's tightly package cleavage to bother to look upwards towards the menacing presence that was just now ducking down to wedge it's way through the front door. The bouncer, who wasn't a small man by any stretch of the imagination looked like a measly tiny thing next to the Killer Komodo as it lifted itself upright once it had squeezed in through the door. The bald head bouncer and his old Indian looking friend gazed on with slacked jaws and expressions wrought on their face that showed just how dumbstruck they were.

The Killer Komodo's narrowed yellow reptilian like eyes cut out across the crowd which was just now beginning to slowly take notice of the fearsome presence amidst them. The deafening din of the mass of patrons began to wash away into silence, starting with those nearest the front door, until it reached the back room where the conversations still went on unperturbed as they lacked the line of sight to notice anything alarming. The music still blared though as the towering lumbering monstrosity finally settled it's gaze over Vallie and a crooked fang adorned smirk wrapped along it's lips.

Andrew, happened to look up and caught sight, instinctively going to drag Vallie towards the back of the pub. "Shit, shit, that's one of the Vagabond's cronies, the Killer Komodo." As Andrew worked to withdraw with Vallie, a few fools with drunken bravery surging through their veins were looking ready to step up and try to be a hero.

"H'hey, look man, ain no budy want your trubbles here. If ya here to have a brewski.....Gggggurkle...." The Komodo had lost it's patience quickly with the floundering words of the piss drunk fella and snapped it's hand around his neck. With one sudden upward surge the mans head and shoulders broke through the plaster ceiling above. Shards and splinters of the tobacco stained stuff showered down around the beast, leaving the rest of the mans body to dangle downward after having been wedged like a spike securely into the ceiling.

"I'msss heresss, forsss, her!" The maw filled with rows upon rows of rigid sharp teeth called out as one dark deadly nail pointed towards the retreating pair.
 
The term for the specific fear of reptiles and lizards is herpetophobia - which is not unfamiliar to Vallie, as it was one of the few animal phobia she suffers from. Doesn't mean I'm a squeamish girly girl! It's common enough - look at those creepy bulging eyes, the flicking forked tongues, their skin-crawling slithery movements! The mere sight of a house gecko could paralyze Vallie. And that time she woke up in the middle of the night, went to grab a sip of water, flicked on her kitchen lights, and saw a small basilisk on the window sill? To this day, Vallie would first peek around the door before stepping foot in her kitchen. And so it was impossible to put into words Vallie's fear as she stared at the human-sized reptilian wrecking havoc at the other side of the bar. Oh god... d-did the thing just speak? Her mind froze with terror. Her paralyzed feet rooted to the floorboards. It wasn't until Andrew dragged her back did she regain her senses.

"Shit, shit, that's one of the Vagabond's cronies, the Killer Komodo."

"Ugh... he just won't give up! What the hell does he want with me??" Vallie exclaimed in exasperation, heart thumping out of control in her chest, as the pair barreled towards the backdoor.

The door crashed open - and then a couple things happened all at once. From the corner of her eye, Vallie saw a dark mass fly at her face. Andrew let go of her waist. She heard a crack... and next thing she sat ass first amidst a heap of trash bags in the alleyway. It was an ambush! The side alley was chock-full with thugs. The moment she emerged from the pub, one of them swung a baseball bat as if to lope her head right off. She would have a cracked skull if not for her hammer's powers. Still, the bat's sheer force flung her sideways into the pile of trash.

Towards the far end of the alley, Vallie spotted Andrew sparring with a couple of goons. Looks like they would keep him occupied for a while. Half-dazed from the impact, Vallie counted a half dozen thugs closing in on her. Metal rods, leather belts, tire irons, and chains raised in the air, ready to strike. It was sink or swim, and she was on her own.

Well, they brought a knife to a gun fight. Or in this case, metal rods to a hammer fight. Same deal.

Fueled by a surge of adrenaline, Vallie sprang from the heap of trash. Airborne, she brought her hammer over her head and swung it in a downward arc. A deafening crackle like the explosion of fireworks punctured the night (amidst a snarled battlecry, "HIYAAAHHHH!!"), right before a bolt of lightning struck from the heavens, splitting the alley with a jagged blue line. Vallie portrayed a fearsome image worthy of her ancestors, worthy to be immortalized in comic book covers... though she was oddly aware of how her unconstrained boobs moved under her dress, as well as the hem rising high over her legs.

Static energy tickled the air as the smoke cleared, through which Vallie - dumbfounded - spotted six silhouettes still standing. "You've gotta be kidding..." she muttered. And then it came into view: a black scorch mark burned into the asphalt ground... was all the bolt accomplished! The clumsy harebrained heroine had somehow managed to miss every one of her foes, who stood awed and shocked, but very much un-electrocuted.

Vallie chided herself, wanting to blame the glass of beer she drank on an empty stomach, or the blow she took to the head. She gripped the hammer hard, readying for her next salvo...

These men were desperados, with little to lose and everything to gain. It would probably take more than a supernatural light show to send them packing. One of them, sensing his glory an arm's reach away, charged at Vallie, lowered his shoulder, and slammed into her toned abs. He bear-hugged and pinned the woman's arms and body to the graffiti-covered wall. Vallie instinctively brought her leg up and kneed him in the chest. That produced a sick sound of bones breaking coupled with a pained grunt. Vallie had her superwoman powers. But on the other hand, the thug's desperate kamikaze strength was equally formidable. He seemed ready to throw his life away for her capture! He held on. Vallie found herself pressed against the wall with the force of a fully-cranked vice.

"GEROFF ME!!" Vallie yelled in frustration. Her hammer began to charge up once more, but this time it was pinned to the side of her right thigh...
 
Andrew was quite preoccupied with an assortment of violent homeless vagrants. Still he tried to keep Vallie in the corner of his eye as the ambush unfolded in the alleyway. As the blinding thunder strike of lightning sizzled the pavement, Andrew for a moment figured Vallie had her side of things under control for a change. With the blinding flash receding turned his attentions back to the half dozen or so miscreants swarming to him. A sharp resounding thud of a tire iron bouncing off his skull caused starts to flicker up in his vision for a brief second and made Andrew realize that his full attention was required as his superhuman durability shook off what would of killed most men.

The big welt on the side of his head was already fading, the puffy bruise that sprung up in a myriad of purple hues was shifting back to the normal pinkish saturation of his skin tone as the Crimson Marauder snapped his hand around the wrist of his assailant and snarled. That mostly toothless stubble speckled face looked like on in disbelief and then his face contorted into agony as Andrew wrenched and twisted his wrist, causing the rusty tire iron to fall from his hand and bounce off the pavement.

There was no pause though from the others and they closed in around Andrew, random weapons brought to bear down upon the hulking body of Andrew. As a length of heavy chain cracked across his ribs Andrew let out a grunted growl. Leather of a discarded belt snapped across his cheek and fury rose up in the Crimson Marauders eyes. As a baseball bat slammed into his gut and expelled the air from his lungs along with cracking a few ribs Andrew roared as he took the slimy bum whose wrist he had a firm grasp of and whipped him into the concrete graffiti covered wall. As the man smacked into the unyielding surface he crumpled to the ground at Andrews feet. One down, plenty more to go.

There was a surge of light and then a blast of brilliant yellow and blue as the mystical hammer pinned against Vallies well toned thigh let loose. The sleazy crazed assailant that had her pinned against the wall, grimy hands groping her body all the while was tossed backwards by the force of the blast as it crackled into the ground at her feet. Another that was in mid charge with the lid of a trash can as a weapon was sent tumbling backwards by the concussive force of the explosion that split the very pavement open in a spider web pattern of fissures.

Freed now from the unwelcome grasp of that initial thug, Vallie's hammer sung as it cut through the air with one fell swing of her arm and shattered the jaw of a man with a tangled mess of a beard that was closing in on her. Maybe, finally, all of that training that she had never really taken too seriously was paying off as another frenzied assault was ended as she swung the mystical heirloom out before her. The sturdy head of it drove into the gut of a lanky bandanna wearing would be enemy that was brandishing a shattered jagged looking beer bottle and sent him flying backwards against the neighboring wall.

The display of the hammers power in her possession gave the remaining trio a hesitant moment of pause as they sized up their adversary. Just as they were preparing to close in the dingy back door into the pub swung open and the source of Vallie's herpetophobia squeezed through the narrow door way. Brick and mortar cracked and flew out as the frame of the door was torn asunder by the imposing bulk of reptilian might that surged out into the dark alley. Blood shot yellow eyes like a snakes turned towards Vallie as the head of the Killer Komodo swiveled in her direction.

"Vallie!" Andrew yelled out as the numbers were starting to catch up with him. Despite his near invulnerability and his quick healing, the mass of bodies coming at him were keeping him in check.

"Takesss care ofssss her friendssss." His long red forked tongue snapped out of his maw full of knife like teeth. "I'll getssss her." As the guttural hissed out direction fell from the beastly monstrosity's curved lips the Komodo was on her. A hammer of his own in the form of his fist slammed into the wall by the side of her head and sent a spraying shower of concrete out around them. That misguided blow though was a ruse as the towering beast swiveled his hips and the flashing shape of it's log like tail snapped around towards Vallie's gut.
 
Years ago, Vallie as a teenager had spent one of her summers volunteering at the local VA. She never quite forgotten a marine veteran there who was recuperating from an operation that amputated both his legs. He had told anyone who would listen, including Vallie, of how the intensity or hellishness of boot camp hadn't even came close to actual duty. How, at the end of the day, nothing in basic training or boot camp prepared him or the other young recruits for the horrors of modern warfare and the either you or me killing of a fellow man. Like thrusting a combat knife into another living human being, hearing the sickening snap of severed arteries and tissues. Or witnessing grey matter geyser out of a skull through crosshairs. Or an IED going off beneath your humvee, your own legs blasted from their sockets leaving tangled musculature behind. Experiences like those are seared into the very fabric of his existence. Changed him forever.

And in a similar vein, nothing in Garrison's training quite readied Vallie for face-to-face battle with common thugs. Not to mention she never took those obstacle courses seriously to begin with.

These foes are no plastic dummies or shooting targets, but living breathing creatures, in such proximity Vallie felt huffed breaths on her skin. One could make the argument back at the hospital (when she saved Sandy outside the elevator) she had dealt with three thugs viciously by inflicting horrific electrical burns. But that was channeled through the supernatural properties of her hammer - it was her hammer that committed the deed, not her - if that makes sense. Now, within the narrow cramped alley, in brutal hand-to-hand combat, Vallie had no choice but to wield her hammer as a blunt weapon. The tang of hammer on bones produced nauseating crunches Vallie wished she could unhear.

The third thug, upon the hammer cracking his ribs, threw up blood and phlegm in a rainbow projectile, splattering hot sticky bodily substances onto Vallie's immaculate toned thighs.

"EWWWW... UGHHHH..." groaned Vallie. She would have vomited herself - if not for the fact that she had nothing to eat throughout the entire day.

So by the time the Killer Komodo made his entrance into the alleyway, Vallie was quite beside herself - her fear of lizards notwithstanding. The whip-like tail was lightning quick, and unavoidable. It struck and coiled around Vallie's midsection, easily hoisting the heroine into midair. Vallie squared her shoulders and locked her back (not unlike how she instructed her clients to do bench presses) - devoting every ounce of her energy to break through her bonds. Her face glowered with a warm crimson tint. Her chest, appearing just above the coiled tail, heaved and threatened to burst through the black fabric. The material of the H&M dress was neither designed nor manufactured to withstand such tension.

Bzz... bzz... her hammer sang, as Vallie in her last gasp, aimed two bolts of lightning at Killer Komodo's scaly mug.
 
Andrew was knee deep in a pile of savage homeless assailants that seemed to be hyped up on meth or some other illegal narcotic that only boosted their relentless aggression towards him. His fist was busy mashing one vagrants face in, sending what few teeth he had left spraying out of his mouth when a lead pipe cracked against the side of his head. Everything blurred for that moment and a loud ringing sound filled his ears as fell down to a single knee. His freakishly super human metabolism and healing though quickly shook him from that momentarily stunned state and the Crimson Marauder rose back up.

A solid upper cut greeted the pipe wielding derelict goon right under his chin and flung the man backwards onto his ass just as the narrow alleyway burst full of light twice in quick succession as Vallie's hammer unleashed it's potent magical assault. Andrew's wide eyes and even several of the thugs still on their feet turned to look at the scene as the Killer Komodo managed to bring his arm up to partially shield his face from the blast. The key word being partially.

With such a meagerly short distance between himself and the blonde haired hammer wielding heroine the twin bolts of lightning seared across his heavily scaled forearm and fried the visible side of his face. An involuntary reaction occurred as the looming lizard-like figure let out a guttural hissing howl of pain. The very electric that coursed through every fiber of his being caused his muscles to twitch and tighten, all the way down to his tail. It's coiled length squeezed Vallie's slim waist line into an even slimmer state, causing the fabric of her top to burst at the seams. As the Komodo was sent spinning backwards from the force of the lightning that blasted across his upheld arm and face his tightened tail swung out from the wall and threw Vallie towards the opposite side of the alleyway with jarring force.

Andrew took the initiative on those temporarily distracted opponents surrounding him and began to turn the tide in his favor. Hands joined around the back of the neck of one portly fella that reeked of liquor and Andrew brought his head downward and greeted it with the cap of his rising knee. He couldn't help but spare quick glances towards Vallie and the monstrous lizard that was crouching in agony with its hands cupped around the right side of its ravaged face. Twin fists popped another man right in the gut, sending the tattoo riddled body of that youthful addict stumbling backwards to only fall over one of his downed companions.

As the crowd began to dwindle around Andrew the mighty roar of the beastly Komodo rose up and made its fury clear. It's adrenaline firing it back up to it's feet, rage filling every vein in it's body as it lashed out almost blindly with an elbow that smashed right across the cheek bone of one of the goons that was scurrying over to check on their violent associate. His scarred face and growling maw scanned the area, looking with it's one good yellow reptilian eye towards Vallie. "I'msss goingsss toosssss..." Abruptly, the Crimson Marauder broke free from the pack that remained around him, and with a lowered shoulder Andrew barreled into the belly of the Komodo and the two fell together in a tangled heap against the sturdy brick wall which cracked under the impact as the pair ended up entangled, wrestling wildly with each other upon the ground.
 
Vallie's body flew and slammed into the four story walk-up the opposite side of the alley. The impact of flesh and bone on the aged brick facade produced an almighty splat and crash. For normal humans, the impact would be instantaneously fatal, the body reduced to a gory, bloody pulp. But Vallie stood back up instantly, scratches and wounds on her body closing up before the naked eye, her silhouette framed under a showering debris of falling bricks and glass shards. Vallie had learned her lesson from her day's endeavors - grip that hammer tight no matter what.

Though Vallie came out from her entangle with the Killer Komodo unscathed, the same could not be said of the dress she wore. After all, there are good reasons most heroes (and villains for that matter) wear specifically designed, military-grade attire. The fabric must be able to withstand rough wear and tear, and often prove to be flame, chemical, and weather resistant... just to name a few prerequisites. Any off-the-rack, mass produced in a Southeast Asian sweatshop, 20 dollar dress was ill-suited for crime-fighting. After being gripped in and rubbed against Killer Komodo's scaly tail, and then dredged along the rugged brick wall, the material had ran in countless spots, with holes littering Vallie's midriff and sides, teasingly exposing her creamy skin underneath. A ripped tear ran from one side of her thigh all the way up to her hip, resembling some sort of ultra-sexy red carpet fashion statement... or the attire of a desperate streetwalker. Only Vallie had no underwear on. In other places, the hem had became ruined and tattered. All in all, the dress (nsfw-ish)​ now made Vallie look like a damsel in distress who needs a man to save her.

But of course Vallie was no ordinary damsel. And she is pissed off.

The alleyway had also drastically since her tussle with Killer Komodo's tail. The army of Killer Komodo's goons seemed to have been dealt with by Andrew.... in a heavy-handed way. The members lay writhing on the damp pavement, either moaning in pain or throwing up their dinner into the gutter - if not outright knocked out unconscious. From the corner of her eye, Vallie spotted one reaching into the waistband of his sweatpants, most likely going for a firearm or some other weapon strapped there. She covered the distance between them in a few short steps, and with a determined swing of her leg, kicked him right in the jaw. He moved no longer, his hand stuffed into his pants in a rather suggestive manner.

On the other side of the alley, hero and villain brawled and entangled. From her distance it was difficult to tell friend from foe. Despite their sizes and impressive musculature, they moved with such quickness! She couldn't just stand there and do nothing! Vallie called on her power to hover a few feet off the ground, squared her shoulder, and raised her hammer. With violent swings of her hammer, she shot burst after burst of electrical bolts towards the tangled bodies, aiming for the human-sized lizard instead of her former booty call... on a wing and a prayer more than anything.
 
As the Crimson Marauder tangled with the heavy set dragon like man known as the Killer Komodo he caught sight of Vallie out of the corner of his eye. He could see her leveling that mystical hammer of hers towards them and the only thing he could do besides the obligatory thought of - Oh...fuck - was to try and wrestle the massive beast and turn it to not only shield himself from the impending blast, but to offer her a clearer target. The move proved costly as it opened him up to the Komodo's relentless aggression, the beasts wicked claws slicing down Andrews arms and broad shoulders, leaving deep gouges where his skin was torn open. He screamed out in pain, not something that was typical of Andrew, though he had managed to twist and turn with his foe, offering the beasts back to Vallie's crackling blast of lightning.

The first burst stunned the creature, causing the rending of its claws to diminish and sparing Andrew deeper torments from them. The second, third, and fourth blast subdued the Killer Komodo further with every impact until steam sizzled up from the singed and burnt armor of scales that covered its body so thoroughly. Andrew of course felt each blast in a lesser way as they conducted through the creature and coursed through his body. His teeth chattered, muscles seized, and his limbs twitch and spasmed as the magical current rolled through him. When it was all done, he was left lying beneath the tremendous weight of the unconscious lizard beast, doing his utmost to simply collect his bearings.

With a grunt of exertion, the Crimson Marauder placed his hands on the thick chest of the Komodo and pushed the heavy weight foe off of him. As the villainous creature flopped over onto its back and laid there still upon the alley floor, Andrew mirrored his enemies state. He laid there, staring skyward, his chest rising and falling as he sucked in oxygen while his wounds seeped blood. He could feel the poison from the creatures vile claws surging into his blood stream, but his meta human resiliency help to mitigate its effects.

Finally he looked over to Vallie, doing his best to use his wounded arms to shift and prop himself upright as he leaned back against the battered brick wall. "Well, damn, Vallie." He managed to mutter as he stared with a slack jaw towards her. "Hey, thunder goddess, how about a hand up?" He stuck his hand out as he felt a little wave of nausea churn through his body as it fought of the debilitating effects of the Komodo's poison. "We need to get out of here, before the cops, or worse, show up." He bent his legs at the knees, as he tried to get himself to move.

"Can you handle a motorcycle?" He added as an afterthought. "Because I don't think I'm in any condition to drive it, just yet."
 
Wet static lingered in the night air. A calming silence fell over the alleyway - the frenetic cacophony of battle replaced by a barely audible sizzling of burnt flesh and stench of overcooked meat.

Vallie drifted down to earth, her sneakers skidding on the damp pavement before steadying herself. With her blue eyes wide with amazement, she the carnage before her. The shape of Killer Komodo - mere moments ago a one creature wrecking crew of pure hatred and destruction - reduced to a motionless heap. This was... my doing! Well, mostly. For the first time ever, Vallie had managed to unleash her ancestral powers to such devastating effect. Vallie didn't even know she had it in herself! She could hardly suppress a giddy sense of accomplishment, and a wry grin on her make-up-smeared face. This actually felt great! Perhaps I should have done this for a living, instead of teaching proper workout forms to unfit housewives? Much better job satisfaction.

"We need to get out of here, before the cops, or worse, show up."

"Sounds like a plan!" There was a newfound pep and assertiveness in Vallie's voice. And, with her other hand still gripping the magical hammer, she helped the hulking Crimson Marauder to his feet without any apparent effort. Even though he put his whole weight on her, she easily managed thanks to her superwoman strength.

Unfortunately for Vallie, adversity is always around the corner. This time, it came quite literally in the form of Andrew's monstrous chrome chopper parked at the entrance to the alleyway. Vallie did not recall him owning this ride from their acquaintance. He must have acquired it recently - and probably had it custom-fit for his build. The big ol' bike was massive! It came to about her chest high and measured the length of a proper car. Vallie realized the ride was an epitome of Andrew himself - muscular, sleek, sexy... and a monument of masculine power.

She may be an ultra fit and lean fitness instructor... but at the end of the day the Nordic girl came in a small 5'5'' bundle. After helping Andrew onto the seat, she stood there hesitating how a small woman like herself would mount this monstrosity of a machine. But with the faint whirr of police sirens in the distance, the pair could not afford to dally. She pushed up and swung her leg over the other side. The seat was WIDE! Vallie couldn't sit on the leather seat without her legs spread wide open. Instantly, the hem of her dress slipped over her bubble ass. When she hurriedly reached back to tug it down (not before Andrew had a good long look), she heard a rip - the tattered and battle-worn textile couldn't take much more - and another rip appeared an inch under her right breast, exposing more of her peachy flesh. That wasn't the end of her problems. She couldn't reach the footrests so her legs dangled on the sides of motorcycle. And the handlebars were so far from the seat! Merely gripping the handlebars meant Vallie had to prostrate herself over the chrome cover - stretching her taut little body right before Andrew. Oh, not to mention her woman parts sat directly on the rain splattered leather seat. For all of the hammer's qualities, it was useless when it came to her present conundrum.

With how Vallie sat, the motorcycle resembled some sort of perverted sexual contraption for the superheroine.

Vallie was ill-prepared for its engine coming to life with a low menacing rumble. She wasn't even revving the engine or anything - ye t the thudding vibrations rocked her core womanhood. She couldn't stop herself before a whimper escaped her parted lips.

Forget about handling the bike! Vallie might have trouble staying in the seat!

"Where did you get this bike from? I... I don't think I can handle it." said Vallie in a strained voice, her newfound derring-do already awol.
 
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Curious onlookers had filtered out of O'Sheary's Pub in the aftermath of the sudden surge of super powered fisticuffs. A few took notice of Vallie as she easily set the mountainous man she escorted across the street to the large powerful bike parked at the distant curb. There was a few hoots and hollers and supportive cheers as finally it had dawned on several of the drunken revelers that the dainty looking lady was none other then the city's newest heroine, Hammer Time.

"See I fucking told you that chick was Hammer Time!" The burly bald headed bouncer cried out as he pointed across the street to the pair while he gave a slap across the back of his dark skinned native American looking chum. Others simply began to chant her name, like they were at some sporting event and she had just scored a game winning basket. "Hammer Time! Hammer Time! Hammer Time!"

Andrew sluggishly crept forward along the wide leather saddle of the monstrous chopper and leaned the weight of his frame against the lithe and far tinier back of Vallie as she stirred the engine to life. He felt dizzy, discombobulated, so he did the only thing that seemed natural to do in that moment and swept his hulking arms around Vallie's slender waistline. "Huh?" He muttered as he tried to bring his bleary and hazy gaze back into focus. "Uh, I'll tell ya another time after we get away from your adoring fans." He mumbled out with a soft spray of spittle flying from his mouth as he leaned his chin forward to perch across Vallie's shoulder.

One of his stout hands swept across her thigh and planted itself there with the grasp of his fingers while the other remained flat across her toned and firm belly. Andrew blinked as he turned his lips to speak into Vallie's ear. "Fuck, you could handle me, I'm sure you can handle my bike." He tried to sound as reassuring as he could in his somewhat dazed state as he heard the approach of sirens wailing in the distance. "I can help." He lifted his arm away from her thigh and pointed to the right handle bar. "That's the throttle, it's like the gas pedal on a car, just turn it counter clockwise. Slowly, until you get the hang of it." He let out a huffed breath after giving the explanation.

His hand twisted and pointed to the other handle bar where a long metal hand lever was aligned just beyond the leather wrapped handle. "That's the brake lever, just like on a ten speed bike, but it's just for the front tire." He sighed out again as he tossed his right foot clumsily forward to rest along side her own where it was settled on the foot rest. "That's the rear brake pedal." His foot nudged hers over the panel. Andrews heavy head turned and softly rested against the back of Vallie's shoulder as he dropped his hand back down to grasp her thigh for support. "Fucking, poison, you can do this, Vallie, fuck before tonight I never would of thought you could of done a tenth of the things you just did in that alley."

"Your gonna go straight down this road." Andrew turned his head just enough to peer out down the road ahead. "Three lights down you'll make a left onto 32nd street and then after a few more blocks you'll take a right onto Chestnut Street." Andrew's hand came off her thigh and reached awkwardly upward, pressing against Vallie's torso and chest as he ran his thick palm across his forehead in an effort to smear away some of the slick sweat that was sheening across his forehead. "Then you'll see a place called Pals Pizza, just park near there, my apartments on the second floor above it."

Andrew felt his eyes drift shut momentarily before he shook his head to stave of his exhaustion. "Just, just don't let me pass out, or wreck my bike."
 
Colm Murphy felt like dogshit.

But then Colm always felt like dogshit these days. Years ago he scraped by as a street level gangster, although he liked to boast – to anyone who cared to listen - of being a bigger shot than he ever was. That lasted until his kneecaps got smashed in a gang fight. These days he spends his time in and out of prison for minor raps – more often in than out. Colm prefers it that way: inside he gets three warm meals a day together with a proper bed. And no one bothers a senile nobody like Colm Murphy. On the outside – Colm doesn’t even own a roof over his head. His favorite spot for the evenings is on Chestnut outside Pals Pizza where he had groveled some pity points with the owner. That means he gets his pick of leftover slices and past sell-by date beer once the place closes.

But lukewarm pizza and stale beer in his stomach aside, Colm detest rainy nights like these. That’s when his knee joints flare up the worst.

On this particular night, Colm sat hunched over on the ground, his jumbled mind in a drunken stupor, nursing a piss warm bottle in a brown paper bag. He looked like a certified mess. The man is in his late-forties but could easily pass for an old cripple. His face disfigured by pockmarks, long tangled hair caked in filth, the odor coming from his body strong enough to fend stray animals off.

Colm awakened to the loud rumble of an engine. Figuring some thugs were coming to mess with him (like they sometimes do), Colm forced his beady eyes open… to the most pleasing form of a toned supple female leg, naked from the waist down. That sobered him up. Colm felt a warm stirring in his loins. He hadn’t been hard in years. Then again, he hadn’t gotten close to a broad like the one on the bike in god knows how long.

“Hey! Andrew you okay? Ugh… wake up! You didn’t tell me which flat’s yours!”

The woman swung her legs to dismount from the bike with that ragged dress of hers bunched up. Colm, sitting mere five feet away, thanked every deity for the view.

*
On the way over Vallie has crashed from her adrenaline high. She was exhausted and traumatized. Her nerves a frayed bundle. But above all else, she was horny as fuck. Her ex-flame had pressed up against her the whole time, grinding her nude thighs into all that horsepower the bike possessed. No girl can possibly remain sane under such onslaught of stimulation.

**
The woman backhanded the mountainous figure on the bike a couple times. His head lolled loosely atop his thick neck. He must be unconscious.

The woman suddenly wheeled around to face Colm. He tensed up… but then realized he may appear just as unconscious to her – slumped against the wall with dirty strands of hair obscuring his small, beady eyes. He caught her naked leg lash out... and blaring pain exploded in his side. Colm bit hard on his lip and kept silent.

“Just an out cold wino.”

Correction, girlie. An out cold wino who was looking straight at your pretty and wet pussy.

When Colm dared to open his eyes again, he saw the blonde had remounted the bike, this time backwards. She was straddling the chrome-covered engine. She reached back and twisted on one of the handles – the engine growled angrily – but not loud enough to hide the heavenly moan out of the woman’s lips.

“Here goes nothing. You used to wake up to this every time…” she said, to no one in particular.

She bent across the seat and lowered her head into his groin.

There was a rustling of fabrics. Then, in the stillness of the alley, among far off sirens, Colm heard lewd, wet, suckling sound. Glup… glup… glup…

And even in the narrow alley where no streetlight shone, Colm managed to make out the woman’s shaved glistening pussy between her sculpted legs bobbing up and down along with her body.

I may not know much these days. But that is a pussy in need of a proper fucking if I ever saw one.
 
Andrews head lolled and swayed gently while a single line of drool trickled out of the corner of his mouth, rolled down his chin and then was suddenly sucked back into his mouth as his eyes jolted open. Bleary eyes stared downward at the fuzzy image of the top of Vallies bobbing head that was just beginning to come into focus. His heavy set jaw went back into a slack state, leaving his mouth to hang wide open as the sensation of her lips, firm and tight around the hardness of his manhood finally was comprehended by his waking sensations. "Ohh, fuck.." He muttered under his breath as he felt the muscles in his body tense up.

The Crimson Marauder didn't even notice the vagrant settled up against the wall in the dark alleyway. His attentions were just far to centrally drawn towards Vallie as she worked her lips over his fully erect shaft. It took some effort, but Andrew moved his arms finally and settled his hands against the tops of her slim shoulders and grasped across them as he let out a low gasp. Things were starting to come into focus, the fuzzy blurred image of two or three heads sucking vigorously over his cock merged into one as he felt a shift in his hips as he pushed his crotch to meet her mouth. His fingers tightened, clamping down over her shoulders firmly, holding Vallie in place before finally relenting.

While she sucked and slurped over the thickness of his rod Andrew let his hands stroke and caress down over her bent over back. "Fucking, A...Vallie.." He groaned as he craned his head backwards and looked skyward as the blissful sensations she was eliciting began to thunder through his body. As he swept his head back down to look towards her he noticed the glowing neon sign of the pizza parlor and immediately realized she had managed to find it while he had fallen into a stupor. Andrew had a feeling that there wasn't going to be much sleep tonight, at least not with way his body was feeling right now. It was almost as if Vallies sucking mouth was pumping the venom right out of his system, although it was more a fact of his accelerated heart rate that was purging it with the increased rate of his hearts thudding deep in his chest.

Then he saw Murphy, lingering in the shadows, the filthy man had his hand stuck down between his legs. He was staring at them from under the canopy of his tangled mess of hair. His beady little eyes danced with delight while his hand thrust itself over his own aroused piece of meat as he grinned a mostly toothless smirk. Andrews jaw set and his glaring gaze fell flush across Murphy's shadowy shape. For a moment he thought to say something, to yell at him and tell him off, but that probably would mean that Vallie wouldn't get to finish what she started so Andrew just looked away.

He focused his attentions once more on Vallies ongoing quest to suck him off. The sight of her working him over brought back a flood of memories. Hot and tepid nights they had spent together. The vast amounts of erotic delights they had shared. His thick hands settled into the locks of blonde hair that dangled and swayed around her head and as her lips descended one last time he held her firmly in place, buried in his crotch. "Ohhhhh....shit..." He groaned out to the dark heavens above as his climax roared through him and his sticky wet seed gushed out of the head of his cock into the depths of her mouth.
 
Vallie's lean worked-out body - strung out like a taut string over the bike - is pushed to the limits.

This is even harder than fighting street thugs! I can't hold this position much longer!

Her firm thighs clutched the motorcycle hard as they could to stop it from toppling over. The engine's power sending wave after wave of seismic vibrations directly to her core. Vallie had no recollection ever getting turned on by a mechanical device of such intensity. This is way off the power scale of my vibrators back home! But with all that said, her mind wasn't even fully focused on her lower body. She was plenty busy. Her mouth enveloped the mushroom head of Crimson Marauder's cock - her head bobbing with a measured and thorough rhythm. It's growing in size... and just as massive as I remembered!! Vallie stared down the three quarters length of exposed, unsucked man meat. Even with her best efforts - the tip crammed down her throat - she is leaving such a big part of him unsatisfied! That just won't do! Not after (accidentally mind you) frying him with lightning!

For a brief second, Vallie wondered what it'd be to have another set of superpowers... say... the ability to deepthroat any man she wishes to pleasure. I'd get to use that power more often, that I'm sure.

She compensated with both her hands. By gripping the base of his manhood and pumping to the rhythm of her sucking. That left her hips as the only tether to the bike. And just when her body is about to give out... she felt him stir and heard his voice. His rough hand came gently over her back. His regained consciousness came as a massive relief, and a call to re-double her efforts. At least my plan is working out this time round! She sucked with renewed enthusiasm, her hands pumped with added vigor. As she sensed Crimson Marauder tense up and began to throb, she closed her lips around the shaft and allowed the hot jets to blast down her throat.

Vallie was overwhelmed with the sensation of guzzling fresh musky seed. At almost the same time, her hips buckled and she clamped them tight around the bike... her own orgasm smashed through her spent body. Trails of her juices sketched a map of the Norwegian fjords down the glossy chrome bike.

So much for not ruining the bike.

"Good to have you back!" Vallie's head surfaced. Her pretty wry grin marred by milky cum seeping out both corners of her mouth.

With a spry agility that belied her fatigue, Vallie swiveled around and faced the front of the bike, bending sharply at her waist - and in the process presenting her excited, puffy lips. She knew the superhero still had it in him, even after emptying his first load of the night into her tummy. She was so blinded by her wanton lust it hardly occurred to her how shameless she is behaving... they are in an alleyway... pretty much right out in the open!
 
Andrew was jolted back to the land of the living by Vallie's extraordinary efforts. His massive muscle laden frame shivered and shook within the aftermath, caught in the strangle hold of the pleasure she had coaxed out of him. Wide eyes turned their renewed focus down to the svelte and toned blonde beauty before him while his thick fingers pressed against her thighs for support. A wildness, primal desire sprung up in those gazing orbs as he watched the heroine before him spin around in a display of deft agility upon the monstrous chopper they were situated upon. A grin formed on Andrews face as he realized for perhaps the first time that he actually thought Vallie worthy of the mantle of that title. She wasn't just some tantalizing curvaceous fuck friend anymore, no, not in his eyes. It was as if she had bloomed before him this very night, risen out of the ashes of desperation, and became the heroine that was worthy of both her lineage and heirloom.

God, the thought of that made the Crimson Marauder hornier then he could ever recall. Or maybe that feeling was just the sight of those glistening wet pink folds of her sex jutting up, presenting themselves to his hardened manhood.

"Oh, fuck, Vallie, it's good to be back." He groaned out as he leaned forward and let the weight of his ripped t-shirt covered chest fall flush across her back. His lips dug in, planted around the side of her neck and sucked on the tender flesh while in the back of his mind he could feel that sizable erection caught between a desire to plunge into the sweet embrace of her love channel while his body's natural instinct sought to soften that iron into supple clay. His thoughts spun as he kissed along the base of her neck, he needed time, just a few moments to get that blood boiling again and rekindle that veined member back to its full and proud glory.

Settling it between the cheeks of her rear, well that seemed like a perfect place to let it rest for the moment, until it was ready to rise from the ashes like a phoenix. The feeling of those sculpted cheeks, finely chiseled by Vallie's tireless efforts to maintain her physique were a welcomed source of fuel that his exhausted, yet completely aroused body desperately needed. The poison that had so nearly put Andrew down for the count didn't stand a chance against the temptation that the Valkyrie had pitted against it.

Gingerly, at first, Andrew began to stroke his manly member up between the clenching folds of Vallie's exquisite ass. The hot panting breath that fell from his lips wandered up along the side of her neck, found the lobe of her ear, and sucked it into the fringes of his mouth. Hands that had seemed lost and uncertain of what to do beyond keeping himself from toppling over began to find purpose. They swung away from her trembling thighs, one moving upwards, fingers clenching at the barely fitting black dress that covered her firm breasts, while the other shifted to settle between her spread legs. When Andrews hand ripped downward, the thin garment that wasn't quite suited to Vallie tore at one of the seams, exposing her bared breasts. His palm settled around those perfectly shaped globes, squeezed them like melons in his vice like grasp while between her legs his other hand stroked, rubbed, and pressed against the patch of blonde hair that was so perfectly maintained above the slippery folds of her sex.

"Ohhh...fuck, I'm going to fuck you, so hard...Valkyrie" Andrew murmured hot and heavy into Vallie's ear as the sensation of her clenching ass cheeks stirred his rod back into an iron hard form. "...So...hard..." He grunted, lips pressed against her ear, his hand squeezing the shape of her magnificent breasts, fingers stroking between her legs, as his hips swiveled, letting his pulsing manhood slip down from between the valley of her ass and plunge into the slick warmth of her puffy slit.

Murphy was beside himself with glee at the spectacle unfolding before his very eyes, silently praising the gods in thanks for somehow answering his prayers.
 
“It’s... so good... to have you... back.”

Vallie was mighty relieved to find Andrew conscious and, well, already in peak virile form - but her words came out raspy and anguished, sandwiched by abrupt pauses whenever his member tore into her. He is already so hard, and he fucks so damn deep! If she didn’t know any better, Vallie swear he is all the way inside her tummy... or up to her rib cage even. That’s why each powerful thrusts made her gasp sharply, her body lurching forwards, only kept on the motorbike thanks to his vice-like grip on her naked hips. His grip pulled her back for the next stroke. And the next stroke.

The tearing of her dress pierced the still night. The 'borrowed' garment, having gone through so much during the course of the evening, is no longer in a wearable state. Another long deep incursion jolted her right to the core. Vallie bit down on her lip. But it was becoming impossible to stop little slutty moans and whimpers from escaping her gritted teeth. He fills me up so good! Meanwhile, heavy boobs swayed beneath her, brown nipples grazing the leather seat... until he put a stop to that with those massive mitts.

This... this is not very heroine-like, Vallie can’t help thinking to herself. Getting stuffed from behind in a back alleyway like a dollar whore.

And enjoying it.

Her gaze travelled downwards and as it happens, rest upon her Hammer laying next to the bike. One of her hand left the handlebars to touch its hilt. And as if flipping a switch, fresh energy coursed through her tired body. She looked over her shoulder and fixed Andrew her dazed O face.

***

But that was not all the Hammer did. The first sign came via a soft bluish glow from her soppy folds, unmissable in the darkness. The next time Andrew enters her, he would hear a faint static sound, like a tiny livewire within her pink, followed by a pleasant tingle right on his tip. Then for each successive thrust, the sensations would intensify. Even Andrew, who must have seen his share of fantastical stuff in his time fighting supervillains, would be hard-pressed to top fucking a 'electrified' pussy, with thousands of minuscule bolts coaxing, tingling, nibbling at his cock each time he enters her.

For thousands of years, it was the destiny of all Olsen women to produce one female progeny - no more and no less - to be the next to wield the Hammer. And as the Hammer sensed Vallie on the wrong side of thirty, still childless, with a manly hunk (imbued with inhuman powers even!) humping into her rump... Well, it decided Vallie needed this man's seed.

"What's wrong?" asked Vallie breathlessly, who, while oblivious, nevertheless noticed the incredulous expression on Andrew's face - while her super pussy wooed the man to splatter his thick cum on her walls.
 
That first little tickle of electricity caught Andrew completely off guard, but as caught up as he was with stuffing his meat into Vallie's delicious depths the broad shoulder hero simply kept churning away. That second trickle, and the third, and fourth which then seemed to turn into one constant stream of tingling energy that coaxed at his cock left the Crimson Marauder dumbfounded. Dumbfounded with arousal.

"What's wrong?" She had asked and Andrew couldn't think of an answer in that moment as his body jolted and twitched from the tiny sparks of electricity that were curling around the head of his shaft. Almost reflexively Andrew found his arms slipping down, curling around Vallie's waist where his forearms grinded against her firm belly. He stared in wide eyed disbelief back into her stormy gaze and struggled to stutter out his response.

"F-f-f-uck---your-your pussy's glow-glowing." It was hard to miss the subtle blue glow that was cascading out the folds of her sex as his feverishly hard shaft stabbed into her depths. The mystical power of Vallie's ancient hammer took hold over Andrew, tossing aside his exhaustion and reawakening the man as the swell of a storm about to be unleashed shot through his body.

The pace only picked up from there. His hooked elbows dug into the heroines ribs, pulling both of their torsos upright and vertical. The entire shift in posture caused Andrew to let out a low groan that was highlighted by flecks of spittle. His hands grasped her, aimlessly felt her warmth, and fondled at her, coaxing more, demanding more from Vallie's rump as it swallowed up his throbbing erection. "F-f-fuck--I'm--I'm gonna---cum." His lips formed the words, words that typically made Andrew halt. But it was all happening so fast. Far to fast for the Crimson Marauder to put a stop to.

In those moments, Andrew became a raging, primal beast, intent on one thing. Absolutely, and totally, giving the business to Vallie. He had given total control over to his instincts, and those needs felt the need to get rough. One hand slapped up around Vallie's chin, clenching against it, fingers pressing into her mouth. The sensation of her breast filled his other hand as it cupped around the tight and perfectly packed mound. He could feel the stiffness of her nipple, jutting up between his middle and index finger. He pinched in response. As the first spurts of his arousal crested, he used his leverage to bounce her, as if she was strapped to some mechanical bull. More heat flowed, answering the summons of her hammer as Andrew pulled her lips towards his own. His wild gaze was swept in by her own as he felt that wild surge of energy flowing out of him with every ounce of his seed that flooded Vallie's womb.

His lips found hers as he dipped and tilted his head to accommodate the embrace while he felt every drop of his seed being milked out of him by Vallie's super charged pussy. With a gentle let down Andrew found exhaustion retaking it's hold over him. Numbness coursed through him as he kept his mouth locked with her own, his slick tongue which darted at first now lingered affectionately within her own. As his momentum receded, Andrew kept hold of Vallie, relishing in the patient dispersal of all that pleasure to wash away. He let himself sag tiredly against her, leaving one hand to faintly play across her body, lavishing it with a tenderness that was surprising for the Crimson Marauder.

Which was only made a little more harder since he just refused to pull out of the caressing folds of her glowing sex.
 
"F-f-f-uck---your-your pussy's glow-glowing."

"Wha... what?!" slurred Vallie. She let out a chuckle, because that's about the craziest thing she ever heard. He must be high off his passion. But to be fair she was pretty much the same. Her mind befuddled by the fucking, that hot rod pushed into her, reducing her to a mess of badly phrased gibberish. "Yeah... harder... right there... ohhhmygod... fuckfuckfuck... ahhhh no no, that's too... uuuuhhhhhyeah..." Vallie was never loud in bed, and at the back of her head she had a vague notion that something's a little off - but she couldn't pinpoint what.

He surprised her by pulling her upright. The sudden motion caused a wave of lightheadedness to hit Vallie, and she failed to stifle a panicked gasp. But this was not unpleasant... far from it. On the contrary, this is so hot, and made him go that much deeper. If that is anatomically possible. The feel of his powerful body propping up her arched back turned her on even more. A quiver of pleasure coursed through her taut body.

Vallie let her gaze drop. In this position I should be able to see his cock enter me, which is so fucking hot. But a few other things caught her eye first. She noticed her hips humping and rolling in a rhythm that matched his. No, it was faster. It pumped with a maniacal and mechanical pace. From the naked eye it looked like she was fucking him by grinding her ass into his crotch. Am I doing this? Vallie had no idea she was even capable of such intense twerking. As if my ass is moving on its own. The other thing was her boob mashed in Andrew's grip. No biggie... except it was, no pun intended. He groped her enough times in the past she knew their relative sizes - she was never that endowed, and his hands are of course massive. Now, however, she noticed her supple fleshiness spill out beyond his pinky, and under his palm, and between his fingers. They looked bigger. Hell, the girls are blocking out the sight of her own legs! Oh, and sure enough, her skin shone with a slick sheen. It was either the sexiest sweat sheen ever. Or...

... my body's glowing.

Her train of thought was broken by his rough grip on her jaw that forced her face forwards. A particularly deep surge brought out a whimper of joy. And when he started to fuck her so hard he was bouncing her, she lost all control. Basic, carnal pleasure overloaded her mind. Senseless moans and whimpers and cries bursted forth. Vallie used to think pornographic scenes are overacted - the eyes rolling back, the dramatic 'O-faces', all those girly wanton sounds they make - but she did all that and more, as unstoppable waves of pleasure slammed into her, wiping her out. How many she could not count. It was her most glorious orgasm ever.

In the throes of heavenly pleasure, the hammer slid out of her limp fingers and hit the pavement with a clunk.

Vallie panted breathlessly. When he found her lips she made a sound... not of displeasure or discomfort, just a primal feminine sound. She kissed sloppily. Hot wetness all over. And her eyelids felt so heavy, she couldn't even muster the strength to adjust her position. Being held against his chest felt amazing. But I can't possibly fall asleep in this position, with him still inside me, with our excitement streaking down my thighs, can I? But this heavy drowsiness... is something else...

The last thing Vallie heard before passing out, except their own heaving breaths, was an Irish-accented voice, croaking, "Fuck man, that was fuckin' hot. My god I think you properly fucked her brains out!"
 
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