Ms Patriot: The Spirit of Giving (Patreon)

Ms Patriot: The Spirit of Giving

Grimme City Super Heroines in Peril Holiday Short Story

By Don Ship

Jennifer Jade closed her eyes and silently counted to ten. The beautiful, raven-maned billionaire stood behind her desk, in her sprawling office on the top floor of Jade Towers. Before her stood her two most dedicated adversaries in business, politics, and society – Big Daddy and Ashley Vanderholm.

“There is absolutely zero chance of me turning a blind eye to your latest outrage,” Jennifer said through clenched teeth. “So I cannot and will not support your plans to redistrict so you can force out a soup kitchen to build a parking garage for you new office tower.”

Her baby blues narrowed dangerously at the mismatched couple – Big Daddy was a rotund sixty-five years old and his wife Ashley was a statuesque twenty-five year old beauty.

“I can’t believe you are coming to me with this on Christmas Eve of all days. Go home and watch ‘A Christmas Carol’ by Charles Dickens, you pair of Scrooges.”

Big Daddy remained unfazed, but Ashley did roll her eyes.

“We have no choice, Jennifer,” Big Daddy said, his pig-eyes were locked on her deep, deep cleavage. He rarely looked her in the eyes. The old billionaire businessman was as big a pig as he looked. Despite having a young, beautiful wife eager to tend his every need and yearning, he frequently propositioned Jennifer. Just beyond disgusting behavior. Like she would sleep with a married man, even if his wife gave her blessing. “We learned you are leaving on vacation tomorrow until well after New Year’s Day. If you don’t sign off on this zone change before you leave, then it’ll be months before we can force it back before the City Council.”

Jennifer sighed wearily. The month of December had been more hectic and tougher than usual. Both as Jennifer and as her alter ego, Ms Patriot. All of the crazies in both business and crime had come out. She spent all month fighting in the boardroom by day and in the streets by night. Lots of fights. Never ending fighting. She was so damned tired of fighting.

“I so need this vacation,” she muttered.

“Good. Sign this and we’ll leave,” Ashley said, placing a small stack of papers on Jennifer’s desk. “Then you can head out to your two weeks of snow skiing in that winter wonderland of Colorado. Imagine snuggling up before a roaring fireplace with a handsome ski instructor. Just sign and go.”

Jennifer smiled. Ashley’s information was good. Apparently she wasn’t being discreet enough. She indeed had a favorite ski instructor, who was eagerly awaiting her annual trip. It was one of the few times each year she let her hair down and just had FUN. Oh, and lots and lots of sex with her handsome ski instructor – Hans.

“If you sign, we might even be willing to help loosen you up a little before you leave,” Big Daddy said, leering suggestively at her. “You and me and Ashley make for fun times.”

Jennifer gasped, baby blues coming up to see the lust in his face. Even Ashley looked eager. So weird. The Vanderholms both hated her so much, but both wanted to fuck her so badly. She’d never understand such people.

“Funny,” Jennifer said, fighting hard to not sneer contemptuously. It was Christmas, and she was trying so hard to keep the Christmas Spirit alive within her. They didn’t make it easy.  No one did in the weeks leading up to that day. “My support of your wishes is not required to go on vacation. I can just have your butts tossed out and then go. I’d rather you just walked out of your own volition, though. It is Christmas, you know?”

“We know what day it is,” Big Daddy said, scowling.

“Good. There is mistletoe hanging over my office door. Give each other a big wet kiss on the way out,” Jennifer said, standing straight and starting to smooth her silk suit. The mid-thigh skirt was riding kind of high on her legs. Funny how that always happened. She tugged it down and handed the unsigned documents back to Ashley. “Merry Christmas, and good bye.”

“You’ll be sorry, Jennifer,” Big Daddy snarled. “You’ll want something some day, and we’ll be there to deny you.”

“Great. My life is defined by denial,” she said. Stepping around the desk, Jennifer began ushering them toward the door. They both stopped just inside the door. Jennifer shoved Big Daddy through. “Go!”

“Hey,” Ashley said from behind. “Is that mistletoe you are under?”

“Huh? What?” Jennifer said, surprised and confused by the sudden change in subject. She glanced up at the sprig tacked above her. “Oh. Yes.”

“Sweet,” Ashley said, slid her hand around the base of Jennifer’s head, and pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss. “Mmmmm.”

“Hhhhhmmmm!” Jennifer said, baby blues wide, arms thrown wide.

She felt Big Daddy press up behind her, his hands on her round hips. When Ashley suddenly released her, he spun Jennifer around and pulled her down to kiss. Big Daddy slipped her some tongue, as well.

“Mmmmmmm!” she groaned, before regaining her senses and pushing him away. “Get out!”

Laughing, they headed for the elevators. She watched them until the elevator doors closed. Then she returned to her desk and called security to ensure the Vanderholms departed and the doors were locked behind them. That done, Jennifer shut down her computer and headed for her adjoining penthouse apartment. There was no reason to go back to Jade Manor, since Lynda was already in Aspen waiting for her. She’d spend the night on her annual Christmas Patrol as Ms Patriot, and then sleep on the flight to Colorado tomorrow afternoon.

It’s what she always did.

Standing in the middle of her living room, Jennifer stood tall and proud and cried out, “I am Ms Patriot!”

There was a flash of light, and when it faded she stood there in her Ms Patriot costume – patriotically themed red and white vertically striped bustier and blue star-spangled short-shorts. She accessorized with a blue mask, gold choker, red opera gloves, and red thigh boots. Around her narrow waist was her all important golden power belt.

“Merry Christmas and justice for all,” she said, and frowned. “Man, I’m just not feeling it tonight.”

Ms Patriot collapsed in her favorite, comfy chair, rubbing her temple. The Vanderholm’s left her with a mild headache. On top of that, she was bone-weary. And worse, Christmas Eve night was traditionally one of her busiest nights as Ms Patriot. Mostly just petty crimes, but it seemed all of the miscreants went to the streets to taunt and mess with the city’s super heroines. Only Halloween Night was worse.

“I can’t refuse to go out on patrol,” she said. Instead of getting up and going out, she picked up the remote and turned on the TV. The movie “It’s a Wonderful Life” was playing. “Wonderful. After speaking with the Vanderholms, I think ‘A Christmas Carol’ would be more appropriate.”

Of all nights, when it should be about peace on Earth, good will toward men, she was going out to fight pimps and pushers and other ne’er-do-wells. She grimaced at the thought of how she’d destroyed Christmas for Big Daddy and Ashley. Why couldn’t she have a nice Christmas? Why couldn’t she be NICE to people, and they be nice to her during this holiest time of year?

“Instead of giving love and presents, I’m going to dish out a lot of ass kickings tonight.”

Of course, it could end up like last year, when she got captured and fucked all night long by an outlaw biker gang. Worse, they unmasked her, and it took her, Patriot Girl, and Purple Avenger three days to clean that fiasco up. Totally ruined her vacation.

The TV went to commercial. All of the commercials were Christmas related, and filled with happiness and giving. Lots of giving. And they had lots of suggestions on what you should be giving, too. Ms Patriot watched raptly at all the smiles and happiness. Why couldn’t she spread happiness and joy? Then the Right Reverend Billy Bob McCool came on. He was Grimme City’s premier TV evangelist. He had a seasonal message for everyone.

“It’s time we all began to give until it hurts,” he pleaded. “There are so many needy among us. Give until it hurts! In this time of peace and love, don’t share angry words with anyone, share love and joy. Embrace the Christmas Spirit of Giving!”

“I will!” Ms Patriot cried, suddenly overcome with such joy it left her entire body all tingly. “Tonight, Ms Patriot will spread only love and happiness!”

The newly invigorated super heroine leapt to her red-booted feet and headed for her secret elevator. Minutes later, Ms Patriot was striding down the streets of downtown, a smile on her beautiful masked face.

The streets were deserted, but the statuesque super heroine was determined she would find someone to make happy. As yet, she hadn’t considered how she’d make them happy, but she’d find a way. Once she put her mind to something, she always found a way to accomplish her goal.

Ms Patriot got about two blocks, heading toward Sugar Town, when an unmarked police car slowly approached from behind. It paced her for another block, until she finally threw her hands up and rolled her eyes, and turned to confront them. Cops liked to pace super heroines sometimes, and from what she heard from her sources in the department, it was so they could admire the super heroines’ bodies while walking. Apparently they enjoyed the way super heroines butts looked while walking in sky high heels, and the way their soft, silky hair bounced, not to mention the way their titanic tits jostled.

“Can I help you?” she asked, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She was out to spread comfort and joy, after all. No fighting tonight. Then she spotted the driver through the front windshield as he lowered the passenger window to speak with her. “Oh. It’s you. Figures.”

It was the Chief of Vice, Captain Wessel. On the street he was called “the Weasel.” Ms Patriot thought the name fit, since he was such a crooked cop. Rumor said he was on the payroll of every pimp, madam, and brothel in Grimme City. Not to mention the mob and pushers paid him off, too.

“Where you heading, Ms Patriot?” he said, putting it in park.

The sexy super heroine rolled her baby blues. Of course, it was obvious she was heading toward the Sugar Town red light district. His employers didn’t want super heroine interference any more than they wanted police interference.

“To spread comfort and joy, Weasel,” she said. “You know? Christmas stuff. You should try it sometimes.”

“Ha ha,” he said. He was a middle-aged cop, with a pronounced paunch and slightly graying hair. His brown suit was wrinkled and ill-fitted. “So Ms Super-Grinch wants to spread some Christmas joy. That’s funny.”

Anger welled up within the shapely heroine. Her baby blues narrowed, fists clenched, and a scathing retort came to her. Then she remembered her mission that night. Didn’t Chief Wessel deserve some comfort and joy? Some Christmas happiness? Maybe if she was nice to him, he would be nice the rest of the night, too. It was worth a try.

“So,” she said, opening the passenger door and sliding into his squad car. The Weasel gawked at her. She’d never done that before. She always tried to avoid him, since he was a cop and “protected” by someone too powerful for her to get him fired. “Why don’t we start over? It’s Christmas Eve night. Can’t we be friends just this one night?”

“Friends? Us? That’s funny,” he said, but his eyes dropped and locked onto her big boobs, watching them slowly rise and fall with her breathing. Suddenly, he was all warm inside. And his body reacted as it always did to gorgeous women.

“Is that a pistol in your pants, or are you that excited to see me?” Ms Patriot said, and laughed.

“Umm,” he said, blushing and looking around for a way out.

Oddly enough, his discomfort and embarrassment called to something deep within the sexy super heroine. That was it. Her mind was made up. Once she made her decision, her body reacted profoundly. Her already hot and tingly cunt began to throb with the most delightful need. All wet and tingly hot. Butterflies erupted deep in her belly and her throat tightened. Ms Patriot licked full red lips and gave him a sultry smile.

“Merry Christmas, you old Weasel,” Ms Patriot said playfully. She leaned over and kissed him. Breaking the kiss, she smiled wickedly at him, then glanced down at his tented pants. “I was going to ask how I could give you some comfort and joy, but I see you’ve already answered that.”

Ms Patriot’s red-gloved hand unzipped his pants, and pulled out his painfully hard cock. Wrapping long, delicate fingers around his shaft, she firmly stroked him as she tilted her head for another deep, passionate kiss.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Weasel gasped out.

“I know, but I’m filled with the spirit of giving tonight,” Ms Patriot purred, slowly moving closer to kissing him. “Merry Christmas.” And their lips met, starting to slide erotically all over each other as their tongues tangoed deep in their mouths. The butterflies deep within melted into liquid heat, driving her mad with need and desire. “Mmmmm.”

He deftly unzipped her strapless corset top, which fell away. She stiffened, expecting him to crudely and roughly grab her tits, or at least pinch her nipples painfully. But he surprised the Champion of Justice, gently caressing and stroking her firm, white globes.

After a good ten minutes of heavy petting and passionate, open-mouth kissing, Ms Patriot lowered her face to his lap, opened wide and went down on the dirty cop like a boss. He gasped and stiffened, half rising out of his seat. She moaned and groaned sensuously, her head bobbing slowly up and down his thick shaft. The Weasel enjoyed it a long moment, sweeping her long, black hair to one side so he could watch his cock sliding in and out of her talented mouth.

“Mmmm. Mmmmgh,” Ms Patriot groaned as she deep-throated the vice cop. Slurp.“Hggghhhhh. Mmmmmm.”

“Almost there,” the Weasel gasped. “This is the best Christmas EVER.”

“Car 69. Return to the precinct immediately,” the female voice on his radio declared.

“What? No,” he cried. Ms Patriot snickered around his pulsing cock, and intensified her efforts. His eyes widened, and he rose a bit up from the seat as his body stiffened with intense pleasure. “Oh…my… GOD! Aaaaaaghhhh.”

“Mmmmggghhh,” Ms Patriot groaned as her mouth filled with hot, creamy cum. She gulped it down as fast as he filled her mouth, three times. Then she sat back, smacking her full red lips. “Mmmm, delish. Was it as good as you fantasized?”

“What? I never… I mean…” he said, and then grinned and shrugged. “Yes, it was. Of course, we do a lot more than just kiss and a BJ in my sexual fantasies about you.”

“Oh well, life ain’t easy for a cop on the street,” Ms Patriot said, grinning. “Merry Christmas, Chief Wessel.”

Ms Patriot slipped out of the car, her top in hand. They locked eyes and smiled at each other while she put her bustier back on, and then he left without another word. The curvaceous super heroine licked her lips as she strode purposely down the street again. She’d found a way she was uniquely “gifted” in which to give Holiday Happiness. Those horny miscreants in Sugar Town would really appreciate her “gifts.”

As she approached the outskirts of Sugar Town, her stilettos’ clacking the only sound on that silent night, a light snow began to fall.

“Is that approval of my plans tonight?” she asked, looking up. “It never snows in Grimme City! It’s a Christmas miracle.”

She really couldn’t determine the temperature, because her power belt kept her warm in the winter. The tiny snowflakes did feel delightfully cold when they landed on her exposed flesh, for that half a second before melting away. Indeed, the snowfall made Cox Street, with its countless flashing, multi-colored neon signs kind of look like a Christmas tree. If she half-closed her eyes, at least.

Spotting a known drug pusher, Ricky Hernandez, she rubbed bright red lips together and smiled with wicked glee. Veering toward him, she got to within twenty feet before he looked up and spotted her. Ricky’s eyes got big and round, before he turned and ran.

“Halt, miscreant!”

Ms Patriot grinned as she gave chase. As expected, Ricky ducked into a dark alley. Bad guys all thought super heroines were afraid to pursue into alleys. Probably because such places were doubly dangerous to women in general. But she charged in after him without hesitation.

Ricky had been slowed by all the trash in the alley. Fortunately, she had extraordinary night vision, so easily avoided all the discarded obstacles, and caught Ricky about halfway down the alley.

“Hey, Ms P, you ain’t got nothing on me,” he cried.

She slowly backed him up against the cold brick wall. Ms Patriot felt double confident he wouldn’t escape, because large, overflowing trash dumpsters sat to either side.

Trapped like the rat he was.

“Merry Christmas, Ricky,” Ms Patriot said, reaching back to unzip her bustier. She pulled it off, loving the look on his face when she yanked the garment away to reveal jostling tits. As hoped, his pants immediately tented. “I’m not here to hassle you. I just wanted to spread some of my Christmas love and comfort.”

“Huh?”

Ms Patriot dropped the bright red and white striped bustier to the ground, pulling his eyes away. But they quickly snapped back to her large, firm tits. Yeah, the man couldn’t pull his eyes up to her face if his life depended on it. Her smile widened.

“Shhh,” she said, laying a red-gloved finger across his mouth. Ms Patriot pressed in close, thrilled when his hands came up to grab and squeeze her big boobs. Lips half an inch from his, she whispered sultrily, “This is a silent night, a joyous night. Just relax, and allow me to give you some Christmas pleasure and happiness.”

“O-Okay.”

Ms Patriot tilted her head, offering her lips. Ricky hesitated, but then palmed the back of her head and sank into a deep, demanding kiss. They made out like horny rabbits for a long while, kissing and fondling. Ms Patriot unzipped him, pulled out his cock, and stroked him to rock hardness.

And then she pulled back, dropped to her knees with a wicked little smile, and kissed the bulbous head of “little Ricky.” The pusher gasped, jaw dropping as he stared down at the beautiful, unexpected sight.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, Ms Patriot?”

“The Spirit of Giving. Mmmm,” she moaned, as she opened wide and went down on him.

One hand stroking his shaft, the other squeezing his dangling balls, Ms Patriot gave the notorious pusher the most intense head she was capable of giving. Ricky gasped and cried out, rising up on his toes over and over. His fingers combed through her silky raven mane.

“Mmmm.” Slurp. Sssslurp!“Mmmmmgh.”

It soon became obvious that Ricky was putting his best effort into prolonging the experience. So long that her psyche started to change, and her libido really fired up bright and hot. She felt hot sweat on all exposed flesh, even while her pussy throbbed with achy need and frustrated denial.

“Oh baby,” she gasped out. Sluuuurp.“Please, baby. Give it to me. Come in my mouth. I promise, I’ll swallow for you.”

“Oooooh, Jesus!” Ricky cried.

She felt his cock swell, and then hot cum gushed into her eager mouth.

“Merry Christmas, Ms Patriot,” he rasped out, panting furiously. “That was amazing!”

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Ricky,” Ms Patriot purred, sitting back on her red thigh-booted legs. “That was fun and delicious. It’s Christmas, so go home to your family. I bet your mother would love to see you right now.”

“I will. Thanks again, Ms Patriot.”

Despite the Holiday BJ, Ricky hurried away with frequent looks back. She shook her head as she smiled and pulled her bustier back around her busty body. Once dressed, she headed back the way she’d come. Cox Street was one of the two busiest and active streets in the Sugar Town red light district. Anita was the other street, and the intersection they crossed was the most notorious spot of all.

Ms Patriot decided to head for Anita and Cox, wondering which of the many pimps she would encounter that most sacred night. And which ones would trust her enough to allow her to give them “comfort and joy” in her unique way. Maybe she’d give one or more of them something more than just a BJ.

My pussy is going to explode if it don’t get it some relief soon, she thought. She looked up. I should already be in Aspen, with a hot ski instruction between my legs. Screw the Christmas Patrol next year, I’m leaving for Aspen a day or two earlier.

Stepping onto Cox, she looked up and down the street. There were more men and women out and about. The men were looking for love in all the wrong places, while the women were hookers just looking to score some extra holiday cash. It was still snowing, though it remained too light to really penetrate into the alleys. Homeless guys were probably happy about that. So she turned and continued up Cox, heading for Anita.

She passed peepshows, brothels, and strip clubs. The men and hookers gave her a wide berth, and some of the hookers even ducked into doors to hide. She noticed men slipping away to hide as well. It was too dark and snowy to see who any of them were, so she let them go.

If they only knew I’m looking for familiar faces to give some joy to, instead of the usual ass-whipping, she mused. Tonight the BJs go to the bold!

“Hey, gorgeous,” a man called.

She stopped and slanted a curious look at him. Ms Patriot didn’t recognize him, but she was willing… Then she realized the well-dressed man was a barker in front of a strip joint. It looked like a pretty sleazy titty bar, too.

“Hello, sir, may I help you?”

Her heart raced. If he was as lewd and crude as ninety percent of the Sugar Towners usually were, then he’d ask for a sex act. And tonight, Ms Patriot would give him whatever he requested. He just had to ask.

“Yes! Go inside and enjoy the show,” he said. “Drink a beer. Our girls are the hottest, sexiest in all of Sugar Town.”

Ah. Strictly business. Shame. He was rather handsome. Still, he asked her to avail herself of the strip bar’s entertainment.

“If that’s what you truly want,” she said, giving him another chance.

“Really? Awesome,” he said, and opened the door. “Hey, guys, it’s Ms Patriot. Show her a good time.”

Ms Patriot shrugged, and walked past him and into the titty bar. And “titty bar” described it perfectly. She spotted a couple dozen young women, and every single one of them was topless. It was a small place, with a single stage, complete with stripper pole. Two girls were up on stage, making out with each other. Every table was occupied with just a single man, facing the stage, but each man had at least one topless dancer with him, too.

The girls were all skinny, heavily tattooed, and none wore more than a brightly colored thong and high heels. She didn’t see any waitresses, so the strippers doubled as servers, too.

The patrons were decidedly working class men. Everyone wore jeans, and most wore t-shirts, too. They gave her wary looks. Not quite hostile, but at the brink. The strippers and bartenders looked worried.

“Merry Christmas, boys and girls,” she called, heading for the stage in back. “DJ! Play ‘I Wish You a Merry Christmas’ for me.”

The song ended, and she climbed up on stage. After chasing the two amorous strippers off, she struck a pose with one hand on the stripper pole.

“This is my Christmas gift to you,” she said when the song started.

Ms Patriot began to dance to “I Wish You a Merry Christmas” while singing along, and slowly stripping off her bustier. Once topless, she showed them her best pole dancing until the song ended. And then she hopped off the stage, and approached a middle-aged man sitting with a stripper on his lap.

“How would you like a Christmas lap dance from Ms Patriot?”

He pushed the stripper off and nodded enthusiastically. Ms Patriot wagged her brows, straddled his lap, and began to dance. She’d been captured and forced to strip and lap dance many times. The busty beauty knew exactly what to do.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” she whispered as she leaned over him and pressed her big, pillowy tits into his face. A look of bliss spread across his face as she rubbed those perfumed beauties all over his upturned face. Then his hands came up to squeeze and caress, before he sucked in an erect, sensitive nipple. “Oooooh, baby, baby.”

Ms Patriot pulled away, and started dancing all around him, before straddling his lap again and letting him sink into her tits again. Only this time she dropped lower, and ground her hot, wet, aching pussy against his hard bulge. Rubbed one out of him real quick, feeling a sense of accomplishment when he groaned long and low, body jerking.

“Aww, did you cream your shorts?”

“I did,” he gasped out. “Merry Christmas to me. Thanks, Ms Patriot.”

“My pleasure,” she said, and kissed him.

Ms Patriot moved to the next table, and gave him a lap dance. And on and on, until she’d given everyone a lap dance. Only then did she retrieve her bustier top and depart. Out on the street, the barker helped the busty heroine get back into her bustier. So she kissed him.

“Merry Christmas.”

There was a lot more traffic, both street and foot. She wondered how many hours she’s spent in the strip bar.

“Doesn’t matter. The night is early.”

She made it halfway down the block.

“Good evening, and Merry Christmas, Ms Patriot,” a beggar said.

“Merry Christmas, kind sir,” she said, noticing the tin cup in his hand. “I’m afraid I don’t carry any money. I mean, where would I keep it? Right?”

He laughed, even as his hungry eyes looked her up and down several times. Even though she saw the lust in his eyes, his groin remained flat. No rise there.

Aww, he doesn’t think he as any chance with a woman like me.

“So I guess this means it’s your lucky night, my friend,” she purred, taking him by the hand.

Ms Patriot led the beggar to the nearby alley, and about twenty feet in. There was a door there, with the light above glowing bright. She stopped, wagged her brows at the stunned man, and turned away from him.

Pulling her waist-length hair in front of her shoulder, she breathlessly asked, “Help me unzip?”

She heard his breath catch, before trembling fingers fumbled with her zipper. And then he slowly, as if savoring the moment, pulled that zipper down, down, down to her tiny waist. The bustier came loose in her hands. Ms Patriot spun to face him, still holding the bustier to her body. And then she watched his eyes as she unveiled her tits.

His eyes almost bulged out, and his jaw dropped.

“I’m all yours,” she purred. “Anything you want. My gift to you. Merry Christmas, baby.”

He practically jumped on her. The guy wrapped his arms tightly around her shapely body, burying his face in her cleavage. He motorboated her for the longest time, before smothering her tits with kisses and licks. She groaned wantonly and squirmed when he sucked on her nipples, making her body SING. And then he kissed his way up to her lips, and they sank into the deepest, most passionate kiss she’d enjoyed in years.

Ms Patriot felt him unfasten her power belt, dropping it off to one side. The coldness of the night slammed into her, sucking her breath away. But then he pushed her back against the wall, dropped to his knees, and pulled her thonglike shorts down and off. She spread her thigh-booted feet wider, and he buried his face in her snatch.

“Oh baby,” she cried. “Merry Christmas to me!”

The homeless man proved his mettle. He ate her out like a boss. In no time, the gorgeous super heroine was writhing, legs trembling, insides a hot, mushy mess. She cried out her pleasure as he pushed her closer and closer to Nirvana.

“Oh baby. Just like that. Just like…” Ms Patriot felt the change, and then the rush to climax. “Aaaaaagghhh.”

Her body erupted with divine bliss. The most amazing pleasure washed through her hot, sweaty body over and over. He kept right on eating her out, pushing her through one, two, three forced orgasms. He didn’t stop until her legs gave out and Ms Patriot dropped to the hard, cold ground.

“Best Christmas ever,” he gasped out, pushing his dirty trousers down around his knees. The man moved up between her wide-spread legs, and guided his erection straight into her quivering pussy. “And here’s my gift to you, Ms Patriot.”

He thrust his full length into her, stretching her little hole out and sending new erotic waves spiraling into her core.

“Ugggh!” she cried. “Harder. Faster.”

Ms Patriot couldn’t remember being so horny. So needy. So eager to please, and be pleased. She needed that dick so much.

“I love Christmas! I love spreading the love!”

She wrapped her legs around him, held onto his shoulders, and stared up at his face through hooded eyes. The beggar pounded into her, an expression of bliss on his face as he did so. Ms Patriot gasped and grunted with every deep thrust, feeling her body rocking, feeling her tits sloshing.

“Ugh. Ugh. Oh. Ugh!”

It was glorious. The cold ground under her, with his hot body above, like pleasure and pain, seemed to be perfect for that special holiday moment. And then she felt the change again.

“Oh yes. Oh yes. Yes. Yes! YES!” Her back bowed up as her insides exploded with pleasure. “Aaaaagghh! Yes. Fuck me! Fuck me!”

She felt out of control. Nothing mattered but that next climax. So she squeezed her quivering vagina as tightly as possible, and felt the next one wash over her.

“Aaaggggh! Oh baby! You’re best. Do it again!”

Instead, the beggar thrust deep and held it, and then she felt him unleash deep inside her. Hot cum filled her womb, pushing her over the top yet again. And then he collapsed bonelessly atop her.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispered breathlessly, still hot, huffing and puffing. “What’s your name?”

He lifted his head, looked her in the eyes, and opened his mouth to answer.

And someone grabbed the beggar, yanking him away. Ms Patriot blinked up at the empty space, until a big black guy scooted up between her legs, his enormous monster cock in hand.

“Merry Christmas, Ms Patriot,” he said, and thrust into her.

“Ugggh!”

Back bowing, she tightened her pussy around his big black cock. It felt amazing. It felt too good. And then she remembered what happened. He just moved in and impaled her. Didn’t ask. No introduction. No seduction.

Her baby blues fluttered open. She looked the man over, and realized he was also a homeless beggar. And that’s when she realized they were surrounded by more homeless men. Young and old, bearded and not, black, white, and Latino, men stared down with eager eyes.

Christmas gangbang? she thought.

She wanted to object. To stop them. But after all the orgasms she’d already had, her libido was fired up and ready to rumble. And every thrust of that massive tool into her tight hole pushed her ability to resist down harder and harder. After a few more minutes of intense humping, all thoughts of escaping their salacious intentions for her body evaporated.

Ms Patriot wrapped her legs around the homeless man and began bucking, crying out her pleasure and encouragement.

“Oh yes. Yes. Yes!” she gasped out. “Merry fucking Christmas!”

Another man suddenly loomed over her face. He pulled out his rock hard dick and rubbed his cock and balls all over her upturned face. Then the homeless man forced her chin up, so that her head was at an angle so that he had a straight shot down her throat, and then he thrust into her mouth. Ms Patriot’s baby blues were huge as he pushed deeper and deeper with every thrust. Before she knew it, he was battering down the defenses to her throat and his hairy balls started slapping her across her masked eyes.

The next few hours were a blur of faces, hands, and dicks. Those homeless men ran two trains, one on her pussy and the other on her mouth. Once they’d all had their shot, then she was passed around like a cheap whore. The Curse of the Valkyrie kept the busty super heroine with them and eager to please.

But all good things come to an end.

“Hey. What’s going on?” Ms Patriot asked. “Don’t you want to fuck me anymore?”

She looked around the dark alley. Homeless men lay all about, sound asleep. Her last lover dozed off immediately after coming, and just lay on top of her.

“Damn. I out-fucked them all,” she said, shaking her head. “Lightweights.”

The cold started to seep in again. Her hot, sweaty body needed lots of sex and activity to keep warm. She stood up and teetered atop her sky high stilettos. Her knees felt weak, but everything fell into place when she started walking.

Ms Patriot found her power belt first. She felt much better after fastening it around her narrow waist. Then she cleaned up using snow and some abandoned articles of male clothing. It took a few minutes to locate all of her costume, but she soon stepped out onto Cox Street fully dressed.

She found the street dark and abandoned.

“How long was I in the alley?”

The busty beauty headed for home. The snowfall became heavier and heavier as she went. At that late hour, it was easy to sneak inside and back up to her luxury penthouse.

“I am Jennifer Jade!” she cried softly.

In a flash, a somewhat bedraggled Ms Patriot transformed into her alter ego, Jennifer Jade. Back into the same outfit she’d spend the day wearing at work. So she stepped into the bedroom, kicked off her heels, and pulled off her top. Then she spotted the alarm clock.

“It’s 6:30 AM? Wow. I spend more time in Sugar Town than I thought,” she muttered, feeling a little tired. Yet, her libido still raged. Her pussy ached for more, more, more Christmas cheer. “My flight to Colorado isn’t until noon. I guess I can get a few hours sleep. Or…”

Jennifer went back and forth in her head for a few minutes, but the Christmas Spirit of Giving won. So she changed into a red velvet teddy, with garters holding up green silk stockings. She pulled on red lace-up over-the-knee boots next, before pulling on green satin opera gloves. Then she tied a golden satin choker around her throat. Put on red lipstick, and finished her outfit out with a red Santa’s hat.

Jennifer hurried down to the underground garage, and left in her Mercedes Benz. She headed north, toward her ancestral home, Jade Manor. It sat at the northernmost edge of an exclusive enclave of multi-billionaires. Nothing but fabulous mansions and estates.

Turning off the main road to Jade Manor, she pulled into another estate’s drive. The gate was open, so she drove up to the main door. Then she used her lock-picking skills to break into the house.

It was dark and warm inside the mansion. Jennifer looked around at all the nouveau riche gaudiness. Was everything gold plated? Even the marble tile was a shade of gold. The Christmas tree and all the presents underneath were done in silver and gold.

Jennifer shrugged, and knelt next to the tree, surrounded by presents. Being that one pop of festive color in the room made her a little giddy. And then she sucked in a deep breath…

“Merry Christmas!”

“That caused a stir upstairs. A few minutes passed before two figures crept down holding a baseball bat and small lamp. Big Daddy eased quietly into the Great Room, bat held high, with Ashley pressed up close behind and looking around him. They stopped to gawk at Jennifer, who smiled back big and bright.

“Good morning, sleepy heads,” Jennifer purred. “Merry Christmas, Big Daddy. Merry Christmas, Ashley.”

“Jennifer? What are you doing here?” Big Daddy asked, looking around with suspicious eyes. “Are you alone?”

“Of course I’m alone, you silly boy,” she teased. “I’m here to spread the love and joy of Christmas. I’ve brought you both a gift. Something you both want so badly it hurts.”

“Which is?” Ashley asked.

“Me.”

“Say again? You are giving us… You?” Big Daddy asked, eyes huge and a bulge growing between his legs. His pig-eyes raked her wonderfully displayed body over and over. “Are you serious?”

“I am,” Jennifer said. She bit her lip and grinned. “My body is all yours to play with for the next four hours.”

“Anything we want?” Ashley asked, face lighting up.

“Anything.”

Ashley squealed with delight. “Don’t let her leave!”

The beautiful blonde trophy wife rushed back upstairs. Jennifer locked eyes with Big Daddy. It proved intense. Yeah, he wanted her so badly. Always had.

“Merry Christmas, Big Daddy,” she purred, rising up on her knees. Jennifer ran her hot, pink tongue across her upper lip. “Do you want to start by fucking me? Or do you want me to suck…your…dick?”

He groaned as he approached her, tossing the bat aside. Big Daddy pulled open his robe to reveal a naked, rotund body. And a really big erection. Jennifer smiled up at him, wrapped a perfectly manicured hand around his thick shaft, and stroked him firmly.

“Tell me, Big Daddy, what do you really want from me? I’ll give you what you want. Do you want to fuck me for the next four hours?” she asked. “Or do you want me to support you building that parking garage? Your choice. Not both.”

If he wanted the parking garage, she would buy a nearby building and relocate the soup kitchen. Not perfect, but she’d provide lots of financial support.

“Fuck the garage,” he rasped out, bending over her.

“Good choice,” Jennifer whispered, and offered up her lips.

He dropped to his knees, and they kissed. His hands explored every inch of her amazing body, while they made out like love-starved rabbits. When Ashley returned, he stood back up and palmed the back of Jennifer’s head.

“Open wide, Jenny,” he said.

Jennifer kissed his dickhead, before wrapping her ruby reds around that rubbery helmet-shaped head. Big Daddy slowly thrust into her hot, wet mouth, savoring every second, every inch. And then Ashley knelt behind Jennifer and pressed up close.

Ashley took the massive, ridged, knobbed, strap-on in hand. She guided it to Jennifer’s glistening wet snatch, swirled it round her slit, and then pressed in to the raven-maned beauty’s entrance.

“About time,” Ashley said, and thrust hard and deep.

“Hggggh!”

“Sing for me, Jenny!”

The two of them quickly got into a rhythm. Fucking Jennifer front and back. On all fours, the super-rich, secret super heroine, gave as good as she got. Gave them everything then desired for the next four hours.

“Best. Christmas. Ever!” Big Daddy cried out, and flooded Jennifer’s mouth with hot, creamy cum. “Merry fucking Christmas to one and all!”