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🕑 Added 2017-03-07 21:14:29 +0000 UTC The grounds of the Hotel Corinthian were a beautiful example of tropical landscaping and made up in part for the untouchable stiffness of the towering edifice of glass and steel that rose, tier upon tier, above the surrounding cane fields.It was not the happy, bustling, prosperous place it should have been. There was a sad, hushed hollowness to the sound of footfalls in its nearly empty halls and an air of solemn, funeral morbidity to its lobby. There was music. Sound poured from many speakers, muted strains from Wagner's Tannhauser.
"This place gives me the creeps," Kara said for the hundredth time since she had arrived there a week before.
It was the off-season, which meant rates were cheap (doubly so since she hadn’t had to pay for a flight) and there was little crowding. But it also meant that the weather was frequently bad, beset by tropical storms for weeks on end that choked the sun and rained out the beaches.
Hiding from the rain in the lobby of her hotel, Kara commiserated with her only friend on the island, the bell captain Taj. He was the rare overweight Bahaman, with a roll of pudge above the top of his belt and a beard that clung to his moon face like barnacles on the bottom of a freighter.
"It isn't very lively," he admitted. "I don't think it will remain open for long if this keeps up. The only guests we've attracted so far are people so old that all they want is quiet. It's like a rest home for the nearly dead."
"How about Mr. Martin in Sixteen?" Kara asked. "He's not over sixty."
Taj shrugged. "He's leaving next week. Shame, too. He's the only real tipper in the place. I'd find another job if I could. He rang for orange juice this morning and when I took it up to him, he asked if there were any pretty girls staying at the hotel.”
“And what’d you tell him?” Kara asked, recognizing his teasing tone already.
“That since I’m a native, I have the right to keep them to myself!” He laughed. “Oh, I don’t want him bothering you. But you know where to find him if you’re in the mood to be bothered.”
“I don’t know if I’m that bored, Taj.” Despite her words, Kara’s eyes glowed with interest. “Yet.”
***
The rain kept up. Though Kara had a lot of friends that would like staying in all day and watching the rain pour against the windows, it got too depressing for her sunny disposition. She headed for the indoor pool instead, her towel and bikini in a beach bag, prepared to change in the locker room.
When she got there, though, the pool was unexpectedly quite occupied. It was large, of course, almost Olympian, meant for a packed hotel, but the lone man’s presence seemed to fill it up. He knifed from the deep end to the shallows, his form graceful and precise, but powerful enough to churn the water, stirring sounds of rippling waves that echoed all around the pool area. Unlike many of the people she’d met in the Bahamas, he was obviously European, with classical square-jawed features, slick black hair, and an abundance of muscles, mixed liberally with dark body hair all over his big, powerful body.
He stopped his laps at her side of the pool, hanging onto the edge to catch his breath. It took him little effort. “Ah. You must be the other guest I’ve heard so much gossip about.”
Kara blushed. “Gossip?”
The man ran a hand through his hair, slicking it out of his face. “I shouldn’t have said ‘so much,” he perhaps quipped. “I have a gift for overhearing things and I suppose there isn’t much else for the staff to talk about. A lovely young woman like yourself prompts far more speculation than an old bachelor like me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Kara said timidly, overawed by his impressive bulk.
The man pulled himself out of the pool. As he did so, Kara could not help but notice the bulge in the front of his swim trunks. She wondered what it would be like to have his great bulk on top of her. The thought made her hips squirm.
Wait, was that…?
The man saw her look of recognition before turning around. He was sitting on the edge of the pool, lazing back on his arms while his legs dangled in the water. “Well, it’s obvious you know I’m not Mr. Martin…”
“No, I… you’re Mr. Martin.”
“I’m Bruce Wayne, as you well know. Batman.”
Kara bit her lower lip. “I didn’t know you could just say stuff like that…”
“Why shouldn’t I, Supergirl?”
Kara barely managed to clench her teeth inside of biting through her lip. “How did you…?”
“You don’t wear a mask. Most people just take you at face value, literally. I don’t take anything that way.”
Kara felt a full-body shudder shake her. It was disconcerting to be exposed so suddenly and casually. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“I know you weren’t. But Superman trusts you. And when you first saw me, I hadn’t yet added lead to my cowl. You’re clearly bright enough to recognize me as one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, even with a few disguises between us. And you’re just wearing your hair up. And glasses.”
“I act very differently like this than I do as Supergirl!”
“To the untrained eye, perhaps.” Bruce got to his feet and headed to the locker room, grabbing a towel from one of the chaise lounges surrounding the pool. “May I ask what you’re doing on the islands?”
“Just exploring,” Kara said. “I’m new to this planet. I want to get to know a little more of it than just—Metropolis and Titan Tower and the Watchtower…”
She watched his broad back disappearing into the locker room. Under the bristling hair, scars crisscrossed his spine. “I’m after Bane. He’s setting up an operation here. And if he knew a Gothamite were around, he’d suspect a bat. Hence the cover.”
She could hear him toweling himself off, then peeling out of his trunks. It was slightly vexing. She resolved her temptation by aiming her X-ray vision in another direction and looking through those walls.
It didn’t mean anything. She was just curious. Who wouldn’t be, running into Batman on vacation?
“You can help if you like,” Bruce continued.
Kara barked a laugh. “What makes you think I’d offer to be your sidekick?”
“It’s a nasty habit you red capes have. I’ve learned to live with it. Robin has it worse. If you’d rather, you can fly off and stay out of my way. But if you’re going to be here, on my team, I’ll expect you to follow my orders.”
The terse crush Kara had had on him when she’d first awakened in Gotham flooded back to her. In the midst of all her uncertainty, he’d been so… hard. And then, after he’d saved her for Darkseid, she felt so grateful…
Bruce came out, wearing something befitting a tourist, but sadly downbeat considering the rain—khakis, an unbuttoned Kariyushi, and a tank top. The somber way they were worn suited him.
“Can I ask you something?” Kara… asked.
“If it’s pertinent.”
“Well… I heard that you were getting married. But no one can agree to who. I’ve heard it’s Diana, Hawkgirl, Artemis… or two of them… or…”
Bruce looked ineffably smug. Or rather, a maddening kind of confidence, knowing that her doubt was misplaced. “Yes.”
“But… all three of them?”
“It’s complicated,” Bruce said, toweling some last little moisture off his face and scalp. “But you know the issues the Amazons have. Not much incentive for monogamy.”
Kara was beside herself. “But how do you… I mean, there are three of them! And they have superpowers! You’re just, I mean… a guy!”
“I make them do the work,” Bruce said. He took the towel toward a wicker hamper.
“Make them do the—“ Kara was so aggravated, shocked by his casual confirmation of the impossible rumor and now his blithe dismissal of just how crazy it was, that she super-sped into his path. “What’s that mean?”
“Their pleasure is their decision. It just takes a little push, if you know what you’re doing. And if they’re in the right mood, if they want it badly enough, then their bodies do all the work. Women want to feel pleasure, Kara. Sometimes all they need is a nudge in the right direction.”
“But there are three of them. What, do you just nudge them in alphabetical order…?”
She’d had no idea Batman could smirk. “There is a bit of a waiting list, but… that can help. Anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac. Waiting, watching, knowing your turn is coming—when the time comes, many women find that I barely have to touch them at all. The work’s all been done in their minds.”
“No way!” Kara cried. “Okay, maybe Artemis, you know those really butch types are always at least a little submissive, but Diana? I always pictured her, like, needing this big Outlander love scene to, uh, enjoy herself. Burning candles, flowing nightgowns, canopy beds… stuff.”
Bruce shook his head. “You’re talking about indulgence. Instant gratification. It can be fun, but it gets boring. The women I’m with, they’re goddesses. They can have any man and anything they want. So what really arouses them is being forced to stop. To slow down. To wait. Being denied and denied and denied until someone decides they can have what they want. I’m told it’s very freeing.”
“You make it sound like Fifty Shades of Gray or something.”
“I’d like to think it’d be a little better plotted than that.” Bruce wound the towel around the back of his neck, holding onto the ends with either hand. “You seem awfully curious.”
“I’m not!” Kara flustered so hotly, it was like her whole face was giving off heatvision. “It’s just—weird! Not weird, but, y’know, different. Some… one guy talking about he can please three women at once because they all really want to watch and wait and be tied up—“
“I didn’t say they were tied up.”
Kara shut her eyes before any heat beams could burst out. “That’s what you’re getting at! It was implied! It was very heavily implied! And c’mon, two of them are Amazons, I’d think they were into bondage even if you weren’t going on about waiting and watching—“
At least Bruce wasn’t smirking anymore. He was just staring at her with a kind of subdued interest. Intense, but carefully controlled. “And what do you think Shayera’s into? Spankings?”
Kara felt herself blush so hard, she wanted to wrap herself in a ball and hug her knees in on herself. She absent-mindedly, almost fetishistically, ran her hands through her long, unbound hair. “I think you’re into that,” she said quietly.
“Me?” Bruce asked, almost innocently.
“You… seem like the type.” Now Kara did hug herself, tightening her arms on her chest until she could barely breathe. “Just… how forceful you are and how you’re all about discipline and how… how you yell, sometimes, when you’re really, really angry, it’s kinda… hot.”
“Hot,” Bruce repeated, almost gentle now.
Kara thought she could feel herself shrinking. “Like you could yell at a girl… when she’s in your bed… and she might like it. Being told what to do. Since you know so much about what to do. Probably. And I saw you choke a guy once and it was really—”
“I don’t think it’s Shayera, Artemis, and Diana that you want to talk about,” Bruce interrupted. “Come here.”
Kara took the two steps that brought her within his reach
He didn't take her in his arms. Instead, he slowly and deliberately reached down for her skirt and drew it up around her waist, cocking his head to one side to study her exposed lower body.
"Yes, that's what I like," he said with evident satisfaction, "good legs and hips. Turn around." He patted her bottom. "Nice ass, too. If I wasn't busy, I'd take you upstairs right now. Look here. You think you can take this much?"
Kara turned around to see that he had unzipped his fly and exposed the longest, biggest prick she had ever even heard of. It arched stiffly up, its circumcised head flat and broad, the shaft seeming to her as big as a beer bottle. She gasped at sight of it, her sharp intake of breath as much from surprise and interest as from dismay. Such a thing would just have to hurt. No wonder those three women were into S&M.
She didn't want to touch it, but she couldn't help herself. Her hand stole timidly to the massive organ and cradled it gently, the slender, white fingers contrasting vividly with the dark-hued flesh. She felt its warmth and the pulsing life in it and her crotch ached with sudden longing.
"I can try. A girlfriend of mine is waiting, but she wouldn't mind an hour or so if you..."
"Sorry," Bruce said. He slipped her his room key. "Like I told you, I’m here for Bane. Business to take care of. You be here tonight. In my room. Waiting.”
Kara nodded and reluctantly surrendered her grip on the ponderous penis. She went out of the pool in a kind of dreamy daze.
***
She took extra care with her bathing and grooming that evening, although she judged from Bruce’s brusque, businesslike attitude that he would hardly be the type to notice. From her small wardrobe, she selected a mint-green dress that complemented her eyes and hair and clung with revealing sheerness to her figure. She had trouble doing her fingernails. She was trembling and she realized that it was from eagerness and anxiety. At the moment, she could think of nothing else but that massive, masculine body crushing her and that gargantuan cock plunging into her throbbing cunt.
At precisely eight, she went up to his room. She found the room surprisingly neat and well furnished. It was empty, making her wonder how long she’d have to wait for ‘tonight.’ She’d wait as long as it took, of course. See if Bruce was right about how anticipation made it better.
Kara kicked off her heels and made herself comfortable on the bed, arranging the dress as though it had fallen carelessly around her hips to reveal the length of her bare legs. She wanted her undraped lower body to be the first thing he would see when he came in. She was aware that the crotch of her panties was soaking wet with the arousal that had been dogging her all day, for there had been no moment of that time when she had been free of the mental image of Bruce Wayne’s naked erection. She was so hot that she felt all she would have to do was barely touch her clitoris with the tip of one finger to make herself go into a violent orgasm. It was almost overwhelmingly tempting to do so, and she wished he would hurry.
The door opened and he entered. He was wearing dark trousers and a blue Hawaiian shirt. For all his muscle, he walked as lightly and gracefully as a dancer across the room, the lust already lighting his face as he eyed her lovely, open thighs.
“You want to be my lover?”
Kara bit her lip. It suddenly seemed so slutty to say ‘yes’ out loud. She just nodded.
Bruce returned her gaze understandably. “Same deal as being my partner. You do what I say, when I say it. In fact, don’t speak unless spoken to.”
“Then how can I be sure I’ll enjoy it if I can’t tell you what I want?”
“You’ll enjoy it,” Bruce declared.
He stripped out of his pants, shirt and shorts, and she saw that his body was overlaid with smooth bands of muscle under the darkened sheen of his hairy skin. His dangling cock was already half-hard as he sat beside her on the bed and leaned over her to kiss her on the mouth.
Kara had expected brutality, or at least a casual sort of roughness. She was amazed at the gentle touch of his lips on hers and the soft, light flow of his hand as it explored the contours of her thighs. "I'll get undressed for you," she whispered, her voice strained from growing passion.
"Don’t trouble yourself," he murmured. "I'll do it. More fun that way."
He disrobed her as he petted her, making a slow ceremony of removing each garment, and he studied the revealed flesh as though each part of her was a new miracle more wondrous to behold than what had come before. He toyed with each of her breasts, his fingers teasing the nipples into hardness, before he bent his head to honor them with his wet, sucking kisses.
When she was at last nude, her clothes a heap on the floor, he made a production out of covering her entire body, from forehead to toes, with tender, provocative kisses, neglecting neither the bubbling well that was her pussy nor the quivering, tightening anus. While he paid tribute to her beauty, her hands were eagerly stroking his cock and carefully fondling his scrotum.
"Oh, my God!" she cried, her voice nearly a thin scream of agony. "Fuck me now, Bruce, honey! I can't stand more of this."
"Patience," he cautioned her. "Make it last. It's better that way." He continued to pet her and kiss her. Then, when he was ready, he warned her of how it might hurt.
"I don't give a damn!" she sobbed. "Just do it."
"Okay." He mounted her and began working his cock into her as carefully as possible. He had been right. It did hurt. From the moment the head of it entered her, the pain began and it grew steadily worse. It felt to Kara as though someone was driving an iron post into her crotch, splitting her body inch by inch. Strangely, however, the pain did not diminish her passion.
"You going to be able to take it?" he grunted.
"Yes! Yes! Give me all of it, Bruce. I want it all, I don't care if it kills me!"
He shoved it home, and the pain immediately subsided, replaced entirely by the marvelous sensation of being filled, of being complete. When he began gently to rotate it and work it in and out, she felt every part of its surface in contact with the walls of her pussy. She clenched her legs around his huge thighs and surged upward with her hips, wanting even more. She impulsively set her mouth on his and ran her tongue between his lips.
The erotic kiss seemed to inspire him. He increased the tempo of his plunging prick and Kara began to come. She sensed that she was approaching a climax of far greater power than any she had yet known, and the impending force of it frightened her, as though she expected her body to be consumed in the blazing inferno of her own lust, or her mind to snap from the tension of her overwhelmed nerves.
Yet it was irresistible, surging up from her loins like a great wave intent on sweeping all before it. She surrendered to the crushing might of the sensation and let her sanity and her humanity fall away like a burden too heavy to carry. She became all animal, a thing of primitive and unrestrained lusts. She was a body, tortured beyond all endurance and responding with naked savagery. She was a rasped nerve that cried for relief, a writhing, twisting, inhuman thing that was all feeling. In the throes of her madness, she bit and scratched the smooth, warm skin of her lover. She screamed like a wounded tigress when her orgasm finally came.
Before it was over, she felt the hot blast of his seed deluging her inner body. The combined efforts of their frantically jerking muscles flung them around on the bed as though they were having a mutual convulsion.
Bruce continued to fuck his own jism back into her until their lustful frenzy began to fade. His motions slowed until he lay quiet but for an occasional twitch of his buttocks.
After several minutes had passed, he raised his head to gaze down at her with dark, sleepy eyes still filmed with the shadow of his dying lust. "You did it," he murmured. "You took it.”
"I’m tougher than I look," Kara whispered. She kissed him warmly. "You weren't really rough. You're the gentlest man I've ever known. After we've rested awhile, will you make love to me again? Can we stay here all night?"
"No. I'm sorry. Bane’s moving a drug shipment at midnight. I have to stop it. You can sleep here if you want. I don't think I should screw you again. Your pussy needs a rest after having me in it. But I want to suck you off. Do you like having your cunt licked?"
"I'd love it!" Kara replied with enthusiasm. "I'll suck you, too—if I can open my mouth wide enough to take it. I wanted so much to suck it this morning when I had my hands on it. I'd have done it right then, gone down on my knees and sucked it, if you'd let me."
He shook his head. "I'm stupid. I wasn't that busy."
They lay side by side, kissing and caressing each other with hands and lips that grew steadily more avid. Kara returned the compliment he had paid her earlier by making the grand tour of his body with her mouth and tongue, just as he had done to her. When she came again to his crotch, she gave herself the pleasure of kissing and licking at his balls and the shaft of his cock. It was now erect and throbbing with his increasing fervor, a dribble of whitish fluid oozing from the slit.
She licked it clean, then opened her mouth to its widest. She found that the head and only an inch of the shaft was all she could accommodate without choking. She licked and sucked greedily while her fingers played with the firm flesh of his buttocks. He pulled her hips closer to his face and, parting her thighs, thrust his tongue into the opening of her sex. His tongue was large, long, and very strong. It was almost like being fucked, she thought happily, but she was not disappointed when he shifted his attention to the small jewel of her clitoris, agitating the sensitive gland expertly. She knew she was getting wet, for the room was redolent with the fragrance of her cream, and she heard him gulp repeatedly as he swallowed mouthfuls of her juices.
She marveled at herself. She had never thought she would want to become a cocksucker. Now she knew she was hooked, completely addicted to the erotic act. When she thought of all the fun she could have had, she wished she had learned the trick earlier in life.
Bruce's clever tongue was driving her closer and closer to the point of orgasm, so she redoubled her efforts. She was rewarded by feeling his muscles tighten and his bodily tension increase. Just as the first throb shook his prick, her own climax came about; then she was coming wildly as she jerked her hips in short, frenzied strokes to rub her cunt over her lover's face, yet not quite losing the contact of his tongue on her clitoris.
His hips shuddered convulsively as his pulsing prick began to shoot gobs of cum into her mouth and down her throat. She sucked and swallowed with all her might, loving the taste of him and as fiercely joyful that she had made him come as at the wonderful sensations that emanated from her clitoris.
Their mutual orgasm was somewhat more restrained than it had been the first time but, in compensation, was even richer in feeling and more prolonged. When it was over, they were finally and completely exhausted.
“Bruce?” she said, after the long time it had taken for her to catch her breath.
“Yes?”
“Wake me at midnight. I want to help you.”
“Alright,” Bruce promised her.
“And what you said? About anticipation making it better?”
“Yes?”
“However long it takes with Bane—I’ll be waiting the whole while.”
