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MtK update
🕑 Added 2020-12-16 20:00:02 +0000 UTCKara was looking at Dick Grayson with shameless need, squeezing his cock roughly to try to get its hardness to stay, return. “Don’t you know what it does to a girl, sucking on a big prick like this one? It gets me so excited. Every second I was sucking it, I was imagining what that fat cock could do to me. And you’re seriously saying that it’s out of juice? C’mon, Dick! Please! Fuck me!”
“Kara, I can’t, I’m spent…”
Kara was burning too hot to stop now. Before Dick could even think about tucking his cock away, she took the softening length of prick into her mouth, sucking the cum-smeared helmet like she’d somehow failed to get all his seed before. She took it into her throat, gurgling it with frantic intensity, her cheeks hollow and her eyelids fluttering as the jerking thrusts of her head cut off her breathing again and again. Dick panted his way into giving in, thrusting himself between her lips. Within a minute, his cock was turgid again, hairy balls heavy and swollen with a gathering load of cum for Kara’s sucking mouth.
“Superman is gonna catch us,” Dick moaned nervously. “Oh, I just know he’s going to stop to check in on you. God, Superman’s going to see me with my prick down your throat…”
Kara ignored him, all of him but his erection. That she kept servicing until it was almost too big for her, almost ready to shoot once more. Then she picked herself up and stripped off her already skimpy costume. Dick’s member stayed as firm as she’d made it, and now trembled with the effort not to spurt outright. Kara could tell how much her naked body aroused Dick by that. And she couldn’t wait for all that lust, that physical lust, to be fucking into her pussy.
“Okay, Kara, we really should call it quits here,” Dick muttered, though his eyes were wide, staring at Kara’s pert, lovely breasts. “I’m serious, if we get caught doing this, it’ll be bad for both of us. We’ll be so screwed!”
“I want to be screwed,” Kara purred shamelessly, laying back on the ground and opening her legs wide apart. “Fuck me, Dick. Feed me your cock just like you did in my mouth. I want you to be the first man inside me. I want to compare every cock that ever enters me to your big prick. Assuming I ever let someone else touch me. I might not. Not if you fuck me hard with that big prick in my little pussy. But I’m so hot, Dick. I can’t wait for you to think about it. You need to fuck me right now, fuck me hard! Hard and fast! Right now!”
***
“Mmm—maebe—mmomo—bbbh—“ Harley slowly came awake, her mind so scrambled that even she couldn’t untangle it, just lingering in a dazed, soporific state that had her eyes glassy and her open mouth drooling. There’d been an orgy? She thought? She didn’t know if it’d counted as that, but it’d sure felt like one. All of Bruce’s wives had taken their turns with her, one after another—or two or three at a time, she guessed—and Bruce had been fucking them too, and they’d been fucking each other, and now…
Harley blinked. She was surrounded by warm female flesh. It was late in the afternoon, but everything was asleep and naked and sprawled out all around her, sleeping on the floor or cushions or couches or each other. It was like there’d been a riot in Bruce’s living room and everything was angry at clothes.
Selina and Talia were sandwiched together with Ivy before the fireplace, resting their heads on her big tits. Roxy had fallen from an easy chair, her back on the ground but her spread legs still up on the seat. A waterfall of cum had ran down from her pussy to cover her belly and finger her breasts. Page didn’t seem to have any problem with her looks with dried semen covering her face—she laid on the sofa, displaying her visage on top of her folded arms.
Diana looked to be sleeping with one eye open, more as if she’d gotten off her feet for a moment than fallen unconscious. Nyssa was melted in her lap, and as good as it looked to be held by Wonder Woman, Diana also looked like she was making sure the Demon’s Other Daughter didn’t go anywhere.
There was no sign of Vicki Vale or of Bruce. The safe money, Harley thought, would be on them coitusing it up. Bruce had probably taken her to another room so all the “fuck me!” and “Oh God I’m coming!” didn’t wake anybody up.
Harley’s memory was unreliable at the best of times—just the other day, she’d gotten a notion into her head that she was one of a string of Harleys that the Joker kept making, like her birth name wasn’t Harleen Quinzel. But it got particularly spotty last night. Why had there been an orgy, besides the fact that orgies were pretty great? Why had she been the guest of honor? Had it had something to do with Bruce Wayne being Batman? Harley didn’t think she had any kind of resolution to have an orgy with Batman’s secret identity, but she supposed there had to be some reason…
Wait a minute… Bruce Wayne is Batman… I gotta tell Mistah J!
Picking herself up, Harley noticed she was wearing one of those Japanese sailing outfits all those schoolgirls wore in animes. If Harley had the relationship with octopi that those chicks did, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere near the water, but the white blouse, blue ribbon, and pleated skirt did look good on her. (She did not, of course, remember putting it on.)
Crawling on all fours for the sake of stealth, Harley got to the kitchen. The cold linoleum tile stung her hands and knees, but it was worth it to see her destination. The backdoor. There was no way Bruce would’ve left it unlocked, but the doggy door was free and clear—Harley could actually see it rattling when the wind picked up.
She rambled towards it. It’d been built for that German Shepherd Bruce owned, a guard dog so big that Harley wondered if Bruce had ever considered taking it out to catch the Mad Hatter. Harley was easily able to put one arm through the door, then fit her head through, then her other arm. She crawled forward, easily squeezing her trim belly through, until she got to her hips. Her damn, child-bearing hips.
Harley tugged and pulled, but she couldn’t get them through. She tried to back up—maybe she’d have more luck with the chimney—but she couldn’t go that way either. She was stuck!
“This can’t get any worse!” Harley fumed, before she heard heels clicking along the trail to the porch. They ran up the steps and onto the little gazebo where Harley had been trying to pull herself. And that was how Harley found herself looking up at Summer Gleeson. “Hey… hiya, Red…”
Summer looked down at her. Then up to the French window in the top half of the door Harley had been crawling through. “Vicki, I had no idea you had company over. Are you trying to set us up on a date?”
Harley groaned. She could heat the patter of Vicki’s slippers as the blonde came up behind her. “Hi there, Summer. Hope you don’t mind I threw a housecoat on. It’s getting to be winter after all.” Then Vicki pushed open the top half of the Dutch door that Harley had been trying to crawl through. “There. Let’s talk.”
“What about?” Summer asked laconically.
“I feel like there’s something between us,” Vicki retorted, equally sardonic.
“Oh, will you two get a room?” Harley muttered bitterly. “Or help me outta here or something?”
“Would you like to be muzzled?” Summer asked her.
“Trust me, she would,” Vicki said, eyebrows wagging.
“Would she now?”
“You might say she’s gagging for it.”
“Hey now!” Harley squeaked. “Ravishing me, making me your sex slave, and passing me around like a lesbian party favor is one thing, but I make the puns around—“
Summer tied her silk scarf around Harley’s mouth, shutting her up. Harley reached to undo it and Summer stomped on her fingers. Harley hurriedly jerked her hands back and held them far away from her mouth, looking up at Summer beseechingly, silently begging her not to go any further. Summer patted her blonde head—equally silent in telling her that she would be treated right if she behaved herself.
“You’ve got a way with her,” Vicki observed.
“Eh. Daddy’s girls. They’re all alike. But it sounds like you’ve had your way with her too.”
Vicki grinned. “What can I say—peer pressure. All the cool girls were doing it.”
Summer whistled through her teeth. “So that’s the game, huh? I should’ve guessed when Wonder Woman started showing up. All you girls are sharing a beard? And I suppose if one wife won’t convince the gossip rags that Bruce is straight, he’ll just keep getting more until—“
“Oh, trust me,” Vicki heaved. “Bruce is all-man.”
“Oh?” Summer asked, curiosity piqued. She loved stories about Bruce’s sexual exploits. She’d never bought the idea of him being gay or asexual, even if there were those girlfriends who he’d dated but never taken to bed. The stories of him fucking his way through this sorority house or that ballet company had a ring of truth to her honed, womanly instincts. Besides which, they turned her on.
“All-man and then some.” Vicki leaned in. “Can you keep a secret?”
“That Wayne Manor has turned into a Roman orgy? Not much of a secret. We all have our suspicions just why Brucie is ‘rehabilitating’ so many beautiful women…”
Vicki rested an elbow on the lower half of the door, remembering how her mother had gossiped with a neighbor through their kitchen windows. “You don’t know the half of it, Summer. I’m a gossip columnist. I need to tell someone! But if any of this gets out…”
“You lose your Harley Quinn sex slave privileges?” Summer asked irascibly. “God, Vale, it might not be journalism, but the inside scoop on what Bruce does with his wives is the story of the century. It’s like if Lois Lane finally figured out who Superman is, but with sex appeal. You’re killing me here.”
Vicki smirked. “Okay, so I’m a bitch. You want to know because you’re a nymphomaniac, but if you do know, you’ll want to splash it all over your column, so I can’t tell you. Guess you shouldn’t have slept with my boyfriend that one time.”
“You could’ve joined us!” Summer whinged, squeezing her thighs together. God, she wanted to know so bad… “Okay, I promise I won’t breathe a word of it. It’s not a real story anyway. Just a bunch of salacious, tantalizing…”
“Porn?” Vicki finished.
Summer nodded. Maybe she could get a book deal, write a romance novel about all this. A work of fiction about some made-up billionaire like… Tony Stark. No, too fake-sounding…
“I appreciate the offer, Summer, but I think I’ll need a little something extra. To make sure I can trust you.”
“You want me to eat your ass?” Summer offered.
“No, Gleeson, something special.” Vicki licked her lips. “I’ll tell all about me and Bruce… and everyone else… but as long as we’re sharing secrets, you have to share one of your own.”
“Oh, come on, like I have anything that can match up to Wayne Manor sex parties.”
“There is one thing,” Vicki hinted. “Bruce might be the most eligible bachelor in Gotham, but let’s be honest—there’s the guys us girls dream about marrying and then there’s the guys we dream about, period.”
Summer’s eyes boggled. “Batman? You wanna hear about me and—“
“You’ve hinted about it for long enough. Finally such a slut that even the Dark Knight took you up on the offer. Well, I wanna hear the truth.”
“And you’ll tell me about Bruce Wayne? Everything about Bruce Wayne?”
Bruce Wayne is Batman! Harley said, or tried to say through the gag, but Vicki literally kicked her ass to shut her up.
“What about her?” Summer asked.
Vicki shrugged. “Who cares? Even if she remembers something past her next medication, it’s not like anyone would believe her. And I have a feeling that by the time we’re through, we’re going to work up an appetite.” She grinned dangerously. “How’d you like to get Harley back for all those hostage situations—the wandering hands, those little up-and-down glances… the whoopee cushions?”
“I think I’d rather hear about Bruce Wayne. But since there’s only so much you can tell me about him…”
“Oh, believe me, I could go on for a while,” Vicki teased. “Before you decide on my offer, I think you should know: Bruce Wayne? Ten inches. At least.”
Summer sniffed. “That’s nothing. Batman’s fifteen inches.”
“Bullshit! And you took him?”
“Experience, honey!”
“Guess you got a lot of practice on my boyfriend.”
Summer rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t even that good a screw, Vicki. Can I sit down?”
“Sure.” Vicki backed away from the door. “Come on in, it’s not locked.”
Vicki tried the knob and the door did open, swinging aside with Harley still embedded in the doggy door. She looked up at them imploringly. Summer ignored her as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, leaving Harley’s ass protruding from their end of the doggy door.
Summer dropped down eagerly into a chair of the kitchen nook. “Okay, I know Bruce did you at that restaurant—someone at that table left a lot of cum on the floor—and I know that if you weren’t pregnant before then, that definitely did the trick—congratulations, by the way—but what about when you moved in? You and Harley and Ivy? What was that like?”
“Oh, I was lucky.” Vicki sat down across from her, favoring her belly with the reminder that Bruce had gifted her with a little bundle of joy. She rubbed her growing, but barely discernible baby bump. “Harley and Ivy were in some kind of snit at the time, so I got Bruce all to myself. And believe me, I took advantage of that.”
“What’d you do?” Summer asked, her eagerness growing obvious.
Vicki set her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “Well, once it came out that I was pregnant, he had to marry me, of course. I get the feeling Bruce is pretty old-fashioned in that way. And we celebrated that, naturally. Made sure our sexual chemistry wasn’t a one-off fluke. So we were engaged, but we barely know each other, which is happening a lot with One Percent Fertiles. We had to pack a lot of courting into the last couple weeks…”
“Such as?”
Vicki gave her a teasing look. “Would you believe I’d never had sex outdoors before I got engaged to Bruce?”
“Yes you did. With me! No, wait, that was Vesper Fairchild…”
Vicki blinked. “You confused me with Vesper Fairchild?”
“I don’t know a lot of people whose names start with V. Come on, keep it going!”
Vicki took a deep breath. “Bruce took me walking the grounds with him one morning. It was so romantic. There’s no one around for miles and his property is so beautiful, wild once you get past the front lawn. I felt like I was married to some Scottish lord! He took me to this mossy spot under a tree and then he undressed me. He was real gentle, but he didn’t let me keep a single stitch on, even though we were out in the open, in broad daylight. I couldn’t believe it, but I can’t say no to him. His hands explored all over me. When he squeezed my breasts, I almost died. I mean, Jesus! I was so wet I was just about squirting by then. My pussy was drenched. And then, well… he fucked me.”
“How!?” Summer demanded.
“Shh! Not so loud!” Vicki cautioned her. “Unless you want the whole household to tell you how Bruce fucked them.”
Summer clenched. She would like that. The only thing better would be to actually find out for herself what a good cocksman Bruce Wayne was.
Comments
Shendude
This is fun!
