She looked frantic.

I was sitting in the outdoor section of a popular bar in Denver when I noticed her, a very attractive woman dressed in a black strapless tube top, yellow pants that looked like they had been sprayed on, and three-inch CFM stilettos.

She looked around like she was either lost or looking for someone. I couldn’t believe anyone would abandon her. I’m rather the type of person that acts on instinct. A former boss once told me, “You do great work, but your style is: Ready - FIRE - Aim.” That was probably true, but it worked for me.

I approached her and said, “I don’t mean to be nosy, but can I help you?”

She turned to me and looked ready to cry. “My asshole boyfriend just left me stranded and took my purse. Everything is in it. My phone, my wallet, everything!”

“Why don’t you come and sit with me and we’ll figure something out.”

She looked at me closely and said, “You’re not a serial killer or anything, are you?”

I didn’t know if she was serious or joking, but she smiled. I said, “No, I saw you looked troubled and just thought I’d help.”

She relaxed slightly, and I escorted her back to the small table where I had first seen her. We sat, and I called a waitress, who took her drink order. We introduced ourselves, and I learned her name was Sheryl.

She was simply beautiful. Long black hair against an olive complexion, dark eyes, a beautiful Mediterranean face, and the body of a goddess. Full breasts, tight waist, perfect ass, and legs that filled out her yellow pants, not leaving anything to the imagination. She could have been Greek or Italian or from Spain.

She was from California.

As she relaxed, she said she had gotten in a fight with her boyfriend because she had seen a text message come over his phone from his secretary.

It wasn’t work-related.

When she confronted him about the intimate message, he had gotten angry and stormed away with her purse. Looking at Sally told me her boyfriend was an idiot. She had no family or friends in Colorado and didn’t know what to do next.

Our drinks arrived, and I came to a conclusion that would work out well for me later.

“Here’s my cell phone and my driver’s license. Take a picture of it and send it to someone you trust. You can stay with me until this gets sorted out. Call that person and let them know you’re safe. Call your bank and report your credit cards have been stolen, and then we’ll call Experian and put a freeze on your credit. I would also file a police report and let the authorities know your boyfriend stole your purse.”

She listened with dazed eyes and said, “Okay.” An hour later, she had done everything I suggested, including calling the police and filing out a report.

After she finished, she said, “I can’t believe I imposed on you like this. I appreciate you so much!”

“No problem, I’m just glad I was able to help.”

She had called her sister and explained the situation and how a complete stranger was helping her. After she hung up, she texted my ID and contact information to her sister. We also tried getting a plane ticket for her, but without a valid ID, this was a huge problem for later.

I called for menus, and we ordered dinner. The whole time, she kept saying she would pay me back for my help. I learned she was a professional ‘exotic’ dancer. She told me her stage name was ‘Sable.’ I found that fascinating and knew that with her incredible looks she was very successful. She had a degree in English but made three times the money dancing three nights per week.

I didn’t judge or blame her for her decision. It made financial sense.

After dinner, I drove her to a store where she picked up a few essentials and some casual sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and flip-flops.

By now, she had gotten comfortable with me, and we drove to my house. It was late afternoon, and I asked her if she wanted to do anything. She said, “Relax.” I could see the stress in her eyes and said that would be fine.

I showed her my home, the guest bedroom and bathroom, and freshened everything up for her.

Suddenly, Sheryl stopped me and asked, again, “Why are you doing this? You don’t know me at all.”

“That’s easy,” I said. “You need help. I can help. End of story. You don’t need to keep wondering or worrying about it.”

She reacted by wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me.

“Thank you. You’re a good guy.”

The kiss was brief, and holding my arms around her waist was electric. But I held myself in check because I didn’t want to offend her or come across as expecting anything more than her thanks. My heart started beating like a jackhammer, and I could feel blood rushing to inflate my cock. I pulled away from Sheryl and offered a glass of wine, which she accepted.

I left her to open a bottle of wine and thought, not for the first time, her boyfriend was a complete raving lunatic. Sheryl was gorgeous and smart and great company. I wished I was in his shoes. I would cherish and take care of her like a queen.

We chatted over a couple of glasses of wine and shared details about ourselves. It turned out that we both enjoyed movies, and we picked one on Netflix and settled down to watch. We started out sitting on my couch apart from each other but ended up side by side, our legs touching. I had a difficult time trying to remain calm and not attack her. I could smell her, and the aroma was incredible, intoxicating.

The movie ended, and she said she should get ready for bed. I asked if she needed anything else, and she said she was good, but she would let me know if she thought of something.

She hugged me and thanked me again for helping her out. I watched her leave and readied myself for bed. A few minutes later, I heard the shower go on and imagined sharing it with her. Imagined her dancing in front of me with her hair wet and glistening from water dripping off her body. Naturally, the sheets on my bed were tented from the ramrod erection I desperately wanted to share with Sheryl. As I daydreamed about her, I started to doze off with my hand stroking my dick.

Suddenly, the door to my bedroom opened, and the light in the hall illuminated the outline of my guest. As I had fantasized, Sheryl’s hair was wet, and she wore the T-shirt I had given her to sleep in.

Without a word, she started moving, dancing to a song only she could hear. She was graceful with the movement of her arms and midsection and hips and legs. Her breasts pressed against the T-shirt, and in the gloom I thought I could see her nipples pushing against the flimsy material. She wore her stilettos as she moved.

Her movements were spellbinding and fluid. I was reminded of Shakira in the video ‘Hips Don’t Lie,’ and despite all odds, I felt my cock get harder as she swayed back and forth.

As she danced, she moved closer to my bed and pulled the T-shirt over her head and spun in front of me, still moving to the silent music.

She was completely naked except for her stilettos.

I glanced at her crotch and saw it was completely barren. She had shaved or waxed off every strand of hair. Her pussy lips were swollen and looked moist. They were beautiful and looked like two smooth clam shells with a narrow slit in between them. Her clit was hooded but protruded and looked to be larger than an almond.

She looked at me and said, “If you want to taste me, scoot down.”

I immediately moved myself toward the footboard of my bed as she straddled my chest, still wearing her heels. When her crotch came in contact with my chest, I could feel a deep warmth and wetness. She placed her hand on my headboard and moved on her knees until her pussy was directly over my mouth, and then she sat on my face.

My tongue licked her labia, and I tasted a sweet, almost syrupy, fluid flowing from within her. She reached behind her with her right hand and squeezed my cock and jacked me for a few incredible moments.

She returned her hand to the headboard and started grinding her pelvis into my mouth, and I could feel a steady trickle of her juices coming out from her pussy. My hands roamed as far as I could reach. Her body was warm and silky, skin tight against her body. I slipped my right thumb to my face and wet it with the fluids coming from Sheryl and rimmed her back door before inserting it in her ass.

“Fuck! That feels so good,” Sheryl moaned.

She exploded in her first climax, grinding her pussy into my face. I found her clit and clamped my mouth around it and sucked. The bed vibrated from the waves of pleasure radiating through her body.

“Oh God! That’s so FUCKING intense!” Sheryl shook with the intensity of her orgasm. I felt an even greater flow of liquid from her steamy cunt. Warm liquid I had never experienced dripping from her slit. As she relaxed from her climax, she turned her body around and sat back down. We were now in a classic sixty-nine position. She leaned over and grasped my cock at the base and licked the pre-cum dripping from my hard-on.

“Here’s your reward for being a hero.”

She licked the entire underside length of my pulsing cock. She looked at me and said, “Watch.”

It was performative art.

She swallowed the helmet of my member and started suckling me. Slowly, my cock disappeared in her mouth. I could feel a vacuum-like sensation in the way her mouth and throat enveloped me. Slowly, she started bobbing her head up and down.

I was receiving a world-class blow job to the tune playing in her head.

At the same time, I probed her sex, her slit, her clit as she once again ground her pussy into my face.

I wanted to savor her work on my hardness, but I felt a boiling sensation coming from my core.

“Sheryl,” I gasped, “I’m cumming! Fuck! I’m cumming!!!”

I warned her so she wouldn’t have to taste me if she didn’t want to.

She sucked harder with her lips like a vise wrapped around my cock. At the same time, her rocking on my face increased, and I felt a new wave of liquid splashing out of her cunt.

I exploded and dumped rope after rope of sperm into her mouth. She drank me all in and sucked me until I started receding and plopped out of her mouth. I drank her and felt my pillow getting soaked from her orgasm.

She rolled off me, and we were tangled awkwardly with my cock in her face and her pussy in mine. She rearranged herself, kicked off her heels, and snuggled against me.

I kissed her, and she kissed back and said, “You still need to fuck me.”

And we fell asleep.