The Predator 2
By Elrohir, Elrohir57@gmail.com
She follows up on her earlier success and achieves a new conquest.


He had piqued her interest ever since she'd seen him in action with his
girlfriend in the party house several days earlier. She had been lucky to find
his work ID in the wallet she'd lifted from him there. Now she was waiting for
him to leave work in the afternoon, hopefully at the same time he did
yesterday ... and like clockwork, he did. He went out to the street and got
into the car to start it, but although the engine would turn over, it just
wouldn't start. This is where her plan might falter: he was an aerospace
engineer, but she was counting on him not being able to spot the problem.

He raised the hood and looked down into the engine compartment, but there was
nothing obviously wrong, and in truth he would hardly know if it was""his job
was formulating wing components, and he cared not much for the workings of
internal combustion engines. Just as he closed the hood, a sleek BMW Z4 with
its top down slipped alongside his car. The Woman said from the driver's seat
"Hello! It's, uh, Rodney, isn't it? Can I help you with something? Need a ride
somewhere, perhaps?"

"Do I know you?" he said, tentatively. He hoped he didn't sound too suspicious
of her, because as soon as he saw her he was hoping he did, or would, know her
... preferably in the biblical sense. Her long, dark brown hair was in a
ponytail pulled through the back of her ball cap, perfect for warding off the
wind of driving a convertible. Her white tank top ended a few inches above the
top of her short, short jean cutoffs, revealing curves and enough tanned skin
and legs to set his mouth watering. "You can call me Rod" he said a little
friendlier. Still, he was curious how she knew his name.

"Okay, Rod. You may not remember me ... we met at a party at Jimmie Stubbs'
house last week." She mused that, from what she'd seen, Rod was VERY aptly
named, whereas Mr. Stubbs had been completely the opposite of what his name
might imply. It had been a great night, both physically and financially.

"Oh, yeah!" he said, "That was a hell of a party! I'm not sure I even remember
everything that happened that night ... . I feel sure I wouldn't have
forgotten meeting you, though." He hoped the ham-handed compliment wouldn't
upset her. He couldn't stop staring at her long, curvy but muscular legs.

"Awww, you're so sweet!" she brightened. He sighed with relief, as she
continued "We just met briefly, didn't get to talk much. I'd be happy to catch
you up in the car, if you need to be somewhere ... ."

"As a matter of fact, I do need to get to my dry cleaner before he closes, so
I can pick up the suit I'm wearing for a big presentation at company
headquarters, tomorrow. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, that would be a
big help."

"No trouble at all!" she beamed. Well, no trouble for HER, anyway. He might
think differently, later, when she was done with him. "Get in, sit down, and
hang on, as they say!" He gave her directions to the dry cleaner and she drove
there at breakneck speed, expertly negotiating corners as she pushed the Z for
all it was worth. He was too impressed to be terrified. Damn, this was some
kind of woman! How could he not remember meeting her before?

When they arrived, he said "It'll be just a minute: My wallet was stolen at
that party, and the dry cleaning receipt was in it, so it may take a bit to
look up my order."

"Really? My pocketbook was stolen, too!" she lied. "I wonder who could have
done that? I thought I knew everyone there-- except you, of course! It's no
problem. I'm happy to wait for you, Rod."

When he returned to the car with his dry cleaning, she was easily able to
persuade him to let her give him a ride home instead of going back to work to
wait for a tow truck. The way he kept staring at her legs, this was going to
be too easy. When they reached his house, he had already made up his mind to
ask her in for a drink, which she initially acted uncertain about, but soon
acquiesced, like he had somehow persuaded her to do so against her better
judgment. The trap was set.

For simplicity's sake they both had vodka screwdrivers, and made small talk
while they sipped them. She rather languidly twirled her foot every few
seconds, which caused her exquisite calf muscle to flex, riveting his
attention. She finished her drink rather quickly and offered to make the next
one. He was more than happy to have another, and gulped the last of his down
and handed her the glass. She kept her back to him as she mixed the drinks,
emptying the little packet she'd had concealed in her bra into his glass.

As the first drink took effect, she revealed to Rod the details of their first
meeting in the last hour or so of the party the previous week. She had been
walking in the upstairs hall when through an open bedroom door she spied Rod
and his girlfriend in spirited sexual congress, going at it like rabbits. She
stopped to watch, and had been so impressed with his prowess that, when they
were done, The Woman had slipped into the room and smacked Rod on the ass,
saying "Good job, Stud!," then walked away leaving the sated and exhausted
couple to wonder who the hell that was.

"That was YOU?!" he exclaimed. "No wonder I didn't remember your face! I only
saw you from the back, but what I did see ... er, well, I definitely remember
that."

"Oh, there you go again!" she laughed. "Now that we've been properly
introduced, perhaps you can tell me what your secret is. That was quite a
performance, if you don't mind my saying so." She looked him straight in the
eyes. "How do you do it?"

His face reddened, but like any man proud of his bedroom technique, he was
dying to tell: "If you really want to know, I am the KING of male Kegel
exercises. My PC muscles are so strong that I can keep myself from coming
until just the right moment. Usually I let the woman be on top first so she
can do whatever she needs to do to get herself off while riding my pole. Then
I take control and roll on top, pounding her as long as I can before coming,
which with my PC muscle control can be quite a while. Sometimes she'll come
again, sometimes more than once, before I'm through. I love being able to wear
a woman out!" He suddenly stopped, aware that he'd gotten carried away, and
his excitement with the topic was beginning to show itself in his pants. He
was embarrassed: She probably thought he was a jerk, or a fool, boasting this
way. She did, but that didn't matter to her. She had other plans.

"That sounds like a good technique. Maybe you'd like to show me?" she said
seductively. She crossed over to his chair and sat on his lap, kissing him
deeply, which took his breath away. He couldn't believe his luck. He was a
big, successful, good-looking man, but he'd never had such a beautiful,
powerful woman come on to him this way. In seconds he became rock hard. Good,
she thought: The Viagra part of the mix that had been in the packet would help
one of his heads remove any doubt the other head might have about going
through with this. Now she had about 30 minutes ... .

She broke off the kiss and stood up, removing her hat, tank top, bra, and
those Daisy Duke shorts. She lifted his shirt off him, took his hands in hers
and pulled him to his feet. She kissed him deeply again, then briefly caressed
the gigantic bulge in his pants, which caused him to close his eyes and growl.
Finally she unfastened his pants and dropped them and his underwear to his
ankles. She knelt and took almost his entire massive member into her mouth,
stroked it several times, then released him and again stood. He was already
having to do some Kegeling to keep from going overboard.

He took her hand and led her into the bedroom, where this time HE kissed HER
deeply. She did not resist his control, but still managed to maneuver him to
the edge of the bed, where suddenly she pushed him down, climbed on top of him
and lowered herself onto his pulsing tower of power, enveloping it up to the
hilt. She clenched her pussy around it and rode up and down on him. She soon
saw his face contort in concentration and felt his prick twitch inside her as
he bore down with his PC muscles to prevent an early eruption. She chuckled to
herself and went on like that for a couple of minutes, watching him try to not
be overcome by what he was feeling.

Suddenly she grabbed both of his nipples and tweaked them, mightily
distracting him from his task. He gasped, but soon recovered, grunting with
each of her strokes as he willed himself not to explode. He was concentrating
so much on what his cock was feeling and Kegeling to keep it under control
that he almost completely ignored the rest of his body: She grabbed his wrists
in her hands and lay forward on top of him while at the same time she entwined
his legs with hers in a grapevine hold, not to painfully stretch him so much
as to keep him under control. She lay there motionless on top of him for a
moment, her breasts pressed into his chest, her eyes boring into his, his legs
spread, his arms pinned above his head. He was a little uncomfortable and
tried to adjust his body, but discovered he was completely immobilized, his
iron cock trapped inside her while her amazingly strong arms and legs pinned
his limbs.

She spoke softly, sweetly, "The male version of Kegels is not NEARLY as
powerful as the female version, and I, sweet boy, am the QUEEN of female Kegel
exercises!" With that she slowly began massaging every inch of his member with
just her vaginal muscles, rhythmically squeezing him from the base up through
the shaft to the tip. Having paused before, they were starting over, again
beginning the passionate climb to ecstasy. Rippling her vaginal muscles, she
quickened her pace little by little and also increased the pressure a little
each time, being rewarded with a grunt from him with every new round of
squeezes as the electric pleasure rolled through his cock. With confident
satisfaction she watched as his brow became deeply furrowed and his eyes
squeezed shut in concentration, trying to hold back the cascading flood his
loins ached to produce. Her pace steadily quickened until her pulsing was more
rapid than he would have thought humanly possible. Wave after wave of
delicious pressure milked him toward an inevitable loss of control. He knew it
was just a matter of time before she overwhelmed him, but his pride would not
let him give in without a fight, though he was beginning to realize just how
overmatched he really was.

Even with all his concentration, she knew that his clenched muscles were
tiring: his twitches were less frequent and less powerful each time. She would
have loved to just wear him down until the muscles of which he was so proud
gave way and collapsed, but she was nearing the time limit and she wanted him
to be awake to feel every sensation that attacked him as he was being
conquered. Suddenly she banged her mouth onto his and thrust her tongue into
his mouth, wrestling his tongue into submission. The distraction took him by
surprise and ruined his concentration, a tiny chink in his psychosexual armor
that allowed his dam to burst, a white hot flood gushing forth only to be
consumed by her mighty vessel.

"GGGGAAAAAAAH!" he cried, as the pristine white fluid blasted from his
spasming cock into her hungrily waiting body. She timed her now massive
squeezes to each of his contractions, making them that much more powerful,
rocketing each load out of him. He cried "UGH! UGH! UGH!" in time with them.
His body tensed and shook several times, then collapsed as his last drops of
essence were expended. It was the most massive orgasm he had ever experienced,
and as the tension left his body it left exhaustion in its wake. It was at
about that time that the timed-release scopolamine which had also been in the
packet took effect, making his relaxation complete as he drifted into an
orgasm and drug induced slumber.

He was still almost steel hard from the Viagra, so she rode him furiously
until she reached her own peak and released her own climax with a mighty cry.
She then slid forward and rested her sex on his unconscious face, rubbing her
clit against his nose until she again climaxed even more mightily than she had
the first time. The intense second orgasm caused her to flow uncontrollably.
Her juices mixed with his cum drained onto his head and neck, running down the
sides of his face until they soaked his hair and stained the bed sheet. After
her own contractions subsided, she rose up off him, climbed off the bed, and
went to work.

She dipped a finger inside her and brought it out to her lips, savoring the
unique flavor of his essence, mixed with hers, then stepped into the fancy
shower and used the shower massage wand to wash away as much of him as
possible. She brushed her still-wet hair out and dressed as quickly as she
could in case she might need to leave quickly. Thus prepared, she slowly and
deliberately explored the elegantly appointed but surprisingly small house,
looking for treasure. She began by digging his wallet out of the pants so
carelessly discarded on the floor, taking just the $200 cash this time.

A couple of Tag-Heuer watches were nice, but she was disappointed to find no
Rolexes. Aside from that, the only jewelry he had was the gold college ring he
was wearing, but it was on too tightly for her to remove without
labor-intensive measures for which she had not the time. There was one other
item she hoped to find, because the last time she took his wallet there was a
blank card in it with four handwritten sets of two-digit numbers separated by
dashes. She poked around and finally found it, in the stereotypical location
behind a painting in the den. Using the numbers on the card (why did such
smart people have so much trouble remembering combinations?) she had the safe
open in seconds. That, and her bit of fun, made it all worthwhile ... .

He awoke almost two hours later, momentarily disoriented. He listened, but the
house was silent; instinctively he knew that The Woman was gone. His face was
coated with the residue of her fragrant arousal and climax mixed with his own
cum, and as the images from earlier flashed through his mind, his passion
pole, still Viagra infused, came to complete attention. He decided to take
what consolation he could from what he was left with, and using her memory he
soon experienced the most intense climax through self-pleasuring that he ever
had, although even after a two-hour recovery his love juice supply was
severely depleted from the earlier complete draining he had received.

She had left the safe standing open, causing him to yell "FUCK!" at the top of
his lungs when he saw it. He snatched up his phone to call the cops, but
discovered its battery was missing. Storming around the house in a rage, he
found he had overlooked a folded piece of paper on the nightstand by the bed,
anchored down by some sort of small electronic item.

"Rod," the note said, "here is the computer module that needs to be
reinstalled in order to start your car. Sorry I can't give you a ride to work.
;-)"

He decided he never would call the cops. It was just too embarrassing and
besides, he rationalized, some men would gladly pay twenty thousand dollars
for in incredible sexual experience like he just had. He hung his head,
knowing that, whatever the cost, he would be chasing that experience for the
rest of his life, and would likely never find it repeated again. Disgusted and
dejected, he absent-mindedly took a drink from what was left of his vodka
screwdriver ... and woke up two hours later with a raging hard-on. What a
vicious cycle, he thought. He pounded the fleshy pillar twice more until it
dry-heaved, but still it would not go down. After four hours, he called for a
taxi. It would be a rather embarrassing trip to the Emergency Room, to say the
least ... .