Goddess of the Bimbos

There’s an enormous mane of blonde hair in your face which is surprisingly soft. A shapely caboose is backed up against your crotch and twitches invitingly. Under most circumstances you’d be kind of freaked out by this, but at this point random appearances of divine beings is starting to become old hat.

“I know you’re awake Jimmy.” She glances over her shoulder and looks at you with the bluest eyes you could imagine. “So...wanna fuck?”

“Aphrodite, right?” You pull back from her a bit, deciding not to chew your own arm off to get away from her. “Goddess of beauty and love?”

“Got it in one, stud.” She rolls over and caresses you’re chest with perfectly manicured fingers. Perfectly symmetrical features, aquiline nose, DSLs that you’d swear had 14 ccs of collagen pumped into them if you didn’t know better. “Eris said you’re awesome in the sack, and I just watched you bang both your sisters ****. What’s a girl gotta do to get some of that dick?”

If you hadn’t just fucked yourself out you would be tempted beyond belief, but your cock is currently on the verge of demanding overtime pay for the workout you’ve been giving it, so you retain enough of your faculties to resist the ham fisted come on. “Lady, I’m bushed. And besides that, Eris gave me something in return for a solid fucking. What are you offering?”

“Damn, you’ve got balls. That’s like... sooo hawt! Blah blah blah blah...” you quickly tune her out and study her. She’s the Hollywood ideal of beauty, so basically not yours. Slender except in the bust and butt. Face like a cross between a young Pamela Lee and Marilyn. Clearly dumb as a box of rocks, and probably about as useful as a chocolate hammer for anything non-sexual. “...Blah. So what I’m offering you is the chance of a lifetime. Bang a goddess and have a pecker that gets hard on command.” Well, that could be useful. Probably the best you’ll get from her too. Still, accepting without negotiation would be out of character.

“That’s all? Lady, I’ve already banged a goddess, and as for my Johnson, I haven’t had any complaints yet.” She pouts prettily as you go to roll over and try to go back to sleep. “Besides that, Paris cut a deal with you and all he got was having his city destroyed by angry Greek heroes.”

“Um... that wasn’t my fault. Ok maybe it was a little bit. How about I give you unending sexual stamina too?” She looks like she’s almost on the verge of pleading. “I’ll throw in a blowjob too...”

“You should have lead with that. Now quit whining and get over here.” You grab a handful of that hair and yank her face over toward you. “Even if you arent my type.”

She squeals like a happy puppy and kisses you. You can’t lie, it’s good. “Ok mister. You don’t like this shape... how about this one?” She physically transforms into an exact duplicate of Christina Aguilera. “No?” She keeps changing shape, cycling through almost every moderately attractive celebrity. She’s gone through about 20 changes and just landed on one of the Kardashians before realizing that none of these really seem to spark your interest. The show has been very amusing so far, and you almost gave in when she offered to let you fuck Iggy Azalea’s ass. “Hrm... don’t like the current crop. How about something more classical?” Audrey Hepburn. Judy Garland. Marilyn Monroe. Margaret Thatcher for some reason. Grace Kelly. She finally sees your eyes light up when she stops on Bettie Page. “I shoulda known with all the kinky shit you’ve been up to.”

You **** her over onto her stomach and grab a handful of her hair. “Shut up. You’ve done your part. Now it’s my turn.”