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Marry The Knight update
🕑 Added 2017-01-15 19:39:13 +0000 UTC It was a slow night and Zinda found herself standing around with nothing to do. The Birds of Prey were on a mission in Old Gotham, but they didnât need a pilot, so she was stuck at home, babysitting Blackfire in her isolation cell. Even Barbara was going off to hack into a physically isolated computer system from her battle van.Zinda couldnât help thinking about Dick and how wonderful it would be to be in bed with him. The other girls were fun, but that was just it: fun. She couldnât help it, a generational thing, but she thought of Dick as the real deal. Maybe not her husband in the conventional sense, but certainly the closest thing to one she could possibly stand. Whatever she and Dinah and Helena didâand they didâDick just felt so much more real. She imagined his wonderful thick cock sliding into her⊠and felt an agitated buzz in the crotch of her panties.
Now youâve done it, she thought. All primed for take-off and no runway available.
To take her mind off everything, she went to the kitchen and started washing some dishes for the others. The fact that she was acting as the stereotypical forties housewife while wearing her skirted black costume, right down to the cap tilted rakishly on her blonde head, was not lost on her. Maybe that was why, irresistibly, her thoughts drifted back to Dick and his fantastic lovemaking. She could hardly wait until he got home and climbed into bed with her.
She was so lost in her horny fantasy that she forgot the world around her.
From behind, somebody slipped their hand up her skirt.
Zinda gasped and straightened up from the sink. Deft fingertips tickled deliciously over her wet pussy, inching up to her clit for a delicious moment of pressure. She lost control in that moment, thrusting her hips up to meet that probing finger, feeling it slip the barest degree into her famished sex. She moaned softly.
Then she came to her senses. Her mind was fast enough to go two place simultaneously. The first was thinking that if this werenât her husband Dick Grayson, then someone was in for one royal ass-whooping. The second was that this touch could only be him.
Still, she jerked her hips so that his finger slipped out of her cunt. She was a good girl, and a little ashamed of how aroused sheâd gotten just from feeling his finger some. She blushed furiously and started to turn around, but he pushed forward with his body, shouldering her so she stayed in place. In fact, he bent her forward, over the sink, and pulled up her skirt.
Everybody wants to do that. âYou at least bring me flowers, flyboy?â
âBetter.â She felt his cockhead nudge against the ripe curve of her left buttock, then his harsh breath on the back of her neck as he bent forward to sling her panties down her legs. âYouâre wet enough for it.â
Zinda bit her lip. Oh hellâif you couldnât be a slut with your husband, when could you? âIâll say this for you, ya donât keep a gal waitinâ!â
He lined himself up with her passage, preparing to thrust, but she suddenly clenched her buttocks and straightened, denying him. Zinda heard him growl in distress, barely able to handle the delay.
âWaitinâ too much, that is.â
âFlowers,â Dick promised her. âAnd a steak dinner, first chance I get.â
Zinda moaned submissively and waved her ass at him. Even if it was her right, she couldnât punish him too long. If the other girls got home, thereâd be a feeding frenzy. Right now, she had him all to herselfâŠ
âDo it to me, Dick. Do it!â
The sight of Zindaâs round ass waving him on, curtained and partially obscured by the skirt that was pulled up over it, had the same effect on Dick that a red flag has on a bull. He guided the engorged head of his cock between her shapely buttocks and found himself in the heat of her wet slit, momentarily overwhelmed by it, forced to savor those first few hints of her tightness, her warmth, the embrace she offered his manhood. Then he was equally unable to resist the urge to slide deep into her hot cunt.
âUh, baby!â
It was what Dick had been dying for ever since he finished fucking Misfit. For a moment, he thought he was going to come right then. But he got a hold of himself. Even in his delirium, he wanted Zinda to enjoy this. It was what got him off most, hearing a beautiful woman like this, who could have any man she wanted, thanking God that she had him.
He drove his cock into her in long, even strokes.
Zinda felt like she was being born again. Itâd been so long and this was so good. Her whole body vibrated with pleasure as Dick worked his steady pace in and out of her trembling pussy. She felt so depraved, bent over the goddamn sink like a slutty maid carrying on an affair, wagging her ass at him, begging him to impale her on his cock. She was shaking so hard with excitement that she was sure she would have fallen to her knees if she hadnât had the sink to hold her up.
âItâs good, Dick! Ohhh⊠itâs sooooo good!â
Dick thought Lady Blackhawk had never looked or sounded more beautiful. It was like Zinda was right in the same space he was, needing it as bad as he did. For all her barhopping, skirt-wearing reputation, sheâd never done anything as provocative as begging him to fuck herâa freak in the streets but a lady in the sheets. Now her taut asscheeks were moving with feverish enthusiasmâthe movements of a woman who needed his cum sizzling inside her.
He clutched her rich, sleek flesh and kneaded it with his fingers while his cock glided in and out of her sex, gleaming with evidence of her arousal. She clenched herself around his cock and his shaft ached with pleasure as it fought through her tightness. Each time he shoved himself into her cunt, Dick asked himself how he could ever have thought fucking Zinda was some kind of chore. She was a beautiful woman. A great fuck.
âYouâre so goddamned beautiful,â he husked out, seeing the rough words billow into Zindaâs hair, part it into golden threads. âI love you. I love fucking you. Zinda babyâŠâ
His voice did something to the woman. She began to writhe and moan even more frantically than before. She was submerged in the heated atmosphere of Dickâs lust. Her husband loved her, he wanted her, thought her beautiful and desirable. That was exactly what Zinda wanted to hear, exactly what was needed to take all her impulses toward control and modesty and turn them into raw need.
âI love fucking you too!â Zinda moaned, her cap slipping down over her eyes as she responded eagerly to his thrusts. âYou have such a wonderful cock! It fills me up so nice!â
Even wrapped up in the sensory overload of fucking Zinda from behind, Dick understood the extent of her arousal. She had gone a long time without the intense, satisfying sex she craved. Her body was trembling before him, filling with need. Her cunt was clasping his cock with sheer hunger. He aimed to satisfy it, fucking her faster and deeper.
He was beginning to appreciate the depth of the goldmine he had just discovered. As good as Barbara and Kory and Helena were, there was something special about Zindaâs sexual curiosity, her old-fashioned mores coupled with new-fangled liberation, a mixture of well-honed knowledge and almost virginal willingness. He had thought heâd learned everything there was to know about Zinda, sexually, on their first fuck, that she was just another warm body Barbara had piled on him. Only now was he coming to realize how much more there was to know, the depth of experience he had almost allowed to escape them.
âGod, Zinda, never let me forget how much I love you! Promise me that! Iâm your husband! Never stop being my wife!â
âOh yes, Dick! Yes! Yes!â
Tears started to flow down Zindaâs cheeks. She felt a little embarrassed; this wasnât the time for tears. She was bent over the kitchen sink with her husbandâs cock deep inside her. So maybe it was. Maybe this was what sheâd always wanted. To fly, to fight, but also to have someone waiting for her when she came homeâsomeone as unashamed, as shameless, as she had ever been.
Her pussy spasmed around his member. It was ready to be his.
âOh, lord, Dick, Iâm coming! Yâall are makinâ me come!â
Watching her ass squirm and clench as she rode her climax out like a rough landing in a beat-up plane, Dick felt a raw lust seize him. It was ripping the cum straight out of his balls, intense and pure, headed straight for Zindaâs cunt.
âIâm with you, Zinda! Get ready for the flood!â
Zinda seemed to realize what was happening all at once. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes focusing and staring into his face. Then, quickly, she elbowed him back. His prick slipped from her sex and she whirled around, dropping onto her knees and gripping it in her hand.
âAhâve always wanted tâ try this!â she cried, her accent thickening into a slur.
She squeezed him tight, milking him in her fist. And the two of them watched as a long jet of cum spurted up her face and into her hair, actually strong enough to knock her hat from her head. She tugged on the cock as if she wanted to pull it up by the roots. And another milky helping shot free.
âYes! Shoot it! Oh yes!â she cooed, watching his jism dribble down over her fingers. âShoot out all your lovely fuel!â
He gazed down at his gushing cock. He watched it spurt out one last jet of semen onto her face. âSo sticky,â she smiled, the dregs of his cum still pouring out over her fingers.
Then his cock began firming again, seeming to pull Zindaâs hand to it, over it like a magnet. Helplessly, she stroked it in her fist and watched as it got even bigger, even harder. Zindaâs mouth fell open, just as a dollop of Dickâs seed ran down over her lips.
âI think Iâd best get into something more comfortable,â Zinda said, gulping, and swallowing more than the lump that had appeared in her throat. âLike my birthday suit.â
âNo,â Dick told her, and his cock thrummed powerfully in her grip. âLeave it on. Leave it all on.â
***
Stumbling if not limping, Talia and Nyssa made their way out of the factory, Batman in-between them. Talia consented to lean on him in her struggle to stay upright, while Nyssa stubbornly refused. Still, Batman was quick with a steadying hand to make sure she didnât fall over, tired as she was.
Ivy watched all this with an air of disbelief. It had been an hour since her pheromones had taken over and in that time, an eighteen-wheeler had pulled up, masked workmen had secured the wreckage of the Batmobile, and a new oneâdriven by autopilot no doubtâhad shown up to wait patiently, nearly invisible in an alleyway.
As Bruce and the two women approached it, the carâs cockpit slid back. The operation was quiet, so smooth as to nearly be unnoticeable, and so didnât serve to jar Nyssa awake as she finally lost consciousness. Bruce caught up, scooping her up in his strong arms.
Talia didnât fall out of her lean against him, but when he straightened, it was obvious that Talia had fallen asleep against his shoulder. Bruce wrapped an arm around her midsection, cradling Nyssa in the other as easily as a child, and almost effortlessly escorted the two women into the backseat of the Batmobile. There, they slumped into the deepest, easiest sleep Ivy had ever seen, pulling tightly to one another as their exhaustion caught up with them.
Bruce pulled an emergency blanket from one of the many compartments inside the cockpit and threw it over them, tucking the edges under their bodies with mild complaint from the otherwise comatose women. But finally, they were tucked in, beyond motionless as Bruce secured them both with seatbelts, then pulled cargo netting down over them. Ivy wondered if the crash of his previous vehicle had made him paranoid. Didnât seem possible for him to get more so.
âAre you coming?â Bruce asked into the night, and though he didnât direct his gaze or hearing her direction in the slightest, Ivy knew he was speaking to her.
She sauntered out of the darkness, heedlessly showing off her body. She didnât feel so proud of it, not after seeing Talia and Nyssa unclothed, but she was determined to project a haughty arrogance nonetheless. âYou seem to have your hands full already.â
âIs it my hands youâre interested in?â
Ivy was agog a momentâshe couldnât help but think of how he had handled Talia and Nyssa, handled both of them at once, and each of them a warrior who made Harley look like one of the Riddlerâs henchmen.
Bruce chopping his hand on the passenger seat in a curt gesture snapped Ivy out of it. âI need a ride,â she said, trying to sound dismissive, but the double meaning struck her afterward and ruined her cool. Nevertheless, she went to get into the passenger seat, making a production of slinging a long leg over the frame and descending down into the seat.
Bruce smoothly vaulted over his side of the Batmobile, dismounting ably into the driverâs seat, and the canopy slid down to seal them in like a tomb. With its opaque glass over them, the interior of the Batmobile was suddenly cramped, claustrophobicâintimate.
Ivy felt as if she were in a greenhouse, the warmth and light undeniable, almost forcing her to grow. Swell.
Bruce Wayne was Batman.
She had fucked Batman.
***
Bruce was all too aware of Ivyâs body next to him in the car. Sheâd made no effort to pull her skirt down when she got into the Batmobile. Her soft thighs were visible nearly to her crotch, while her hugely billowing tits gave ample evidence that she did not wear a bra under the vines that covered her, sweeping from her waist to either dangle down her legs or circle her neck in a halter.
From the look of things, heâd be willing to bet that she wasnât wearing any panties either. Could she have grown fresh plants to clothe herself? Perhaps sheâd worn nothing at all when sheâd followed him to this factory, interfering in al Ghulâs ambush.
Despite his discipline, provocative thoughts brought stirring life to Bruceâs cock. He knew he was tensing up, knew his manhood was beginning to swell painfully⊠but perhaps that wasnât a problem.
She had, after all, saved his life.
Ivy laughed suddenly, shrilly. âItâs funny. I was just beginning to think there were two men in the world worth any time. Bruce Wayne and Batman. Of course, youâd turn out to be one and the same.â
Bruce broke the silence like he was chiseling away with a hammer. âI didnât get the impression that you found me so interesting when you were trying to kill me.â
âWhich time? When you were Batman or Bruce?â
Ivy took a hairbrush out from where it was holstered in the vines girdling her hips. She dragged it through her wealth of rusty red hair.
Her blasĂ© act struck Bruce as challenging. âIâve only ever been Bruce Wayne.â
âWell then, trying to kill you was just business. Like when you chopped down all those trees.â
âWayne Enterprises is one of the most eco-friendly companies in America.â
Ivy pretended obliviousness. âAnd as for Batman, he kept getting in my way. Taking me off to Arkham. Though I suppose now itâs obvious what you really wanted to do. So I guess I should be grateful you didnât.â A volley of smooth, straight hair fell before her face, released from her comb. âOr maybe I should be upset you didnât get to it sooner.â
âMaybe I donât believe in premarital sex,â Bruce taunted.
Ivy looked around the cockpit, eyeing her reflection in the canopyâs darkly tinted glass. âItâs quite an experience to be in here with no handcuffs. Makes it seem more spacious. Do you keep change in here for the toll?â
Her red polished nails scraped over the console, teasingly probing the buttons in her way before she got to the gearshift, fondling it playfully. Bruce kept his eyes on the road. She moved on, going to the compartment between their seats and opening it up. She fingered inside until she found a pack of gum. Bringing it to her lips like a pack of cigarettes, she mouthed one stick of gum out, unwrapped it with her tongue, and sucked the stick in. Then she carefully folded the wrapper and dropped it pointedly to the floor.
When sheâd touched the gearshift, heâd wished that sheâd pull her skirt down.
Ivy could tell these things. The skirt was nearly up to her waist now.
âSomething for Robin?â
âFor anyone who likes having good breath.â
âYou didnât ever offer me one on my way to Arkham.â
âYour breath was fine.â
Ivy smacked her lips. âI hear that this latest Robin is your kid. That you had him with one of them back there.â She blew a bubble, popped it, swallowed it. âOf course, if they havenât had your kid yet, Iâm sure they will nowâŠâ
âWhat would you know about that?â Bruce asked, eyes glancing over to her in an iota of interest.
Ivy smiled into his attention. âRaâs and Iâve been in the same circles. A team-up, you might say. But it didnât last. More of a one-night stand.â Ivy smiled. âGuess it is two men who interest me. And guess you do believe in premarital sex.â
âTalia and I are married.â
Ivy took the revelation without much notice. Easily, she said âDo you and your wife fuck a lot?â
âDid it look like we needed practice?â Despite himself, Bruce could feel his face redden slightly.
âYou donât. Not a lot. I know you donât. You missed your exit. Collard Driveâs the quickest way back to the manor.â
âWeâre not taking Collard Drive.â Bruce glanced over his shoulder to check the traffic. No one following him, or even seeming to notice the silent specter of the Batmobile prowling the night. Good. He liked it that way.
âMmm. That cave.â Ivy had been there on a few occasions, for detainment or interrogation the police couldnât be trusted with. She hadnât been sitting up front for those trips. âIâve always wondered how you get to it. You havenât had enough cunt lately. I can tell.â
Ivy smiled, resting her crimson hair on the headrest, staring at the older man.
âIâve had you.â
âNot enough of me.â Ivyâs legs parted. âNot enough for either of us.â
Bruce was all too conscious of the condition that throbbed unforgivingly in his pants. He twitched in the driverâs seat.
Now Ivy shrugged and gave a knowing little smile. âEven with all youâre getting, youâre too uptight. Youâve got a hard-on. Youâve had a hard-on ever since you laid eyes on me.â
âIâve had a hard-on ever since Talia and Nyssa opened their legs to me.â
âThey couldnât handle it. I can.â Without warning, Ivy reached over and touched the bulge in his trousers. âI can handle it right now.â
The touch was like striking a match in a room full of gas. She left her hand on the throbbing mountain of his desire, not teasing him, not caressing, merely leaving the contact open. Ivyâs eyes were locked on his face; the intensity was something he could feel. She seemed to be asking something⊠and receiving silent answers.
âIâve always wondered what it would be like to fuck the Batman. And I guess I can live with Bruce Wayne. We are married, after all.â She glanced over her shoulder out the rear window, then ahead of them. âKeep driving.â
She had some plan, obviously. Her actions were unmistakable. Through a haze of suspicion and growing heat, Bruce felt her hand leave his lap and begin fumbling with his belt.
âI know itâs booby-trapped,â Ivy said. âBut Iâve gotten very good at taking it off. Letâs seeâŠâ
She unfastened it. A second later his zipper scraped, and her knowledgeable hand released his heavily throbbing cock from the confines of his underwear. He groaned deep in his throat. âSecondary trap system⊠goes off if you try to take the belt from my body.â
âI know. You always worry about being disarmed. Never what someone could do⊠just by touching you.â She stroked him a couple of times. âYouâre going to stay on top of Harley. In every sense of the word. I want her well-fucked, well-fed, and given everything her heart desires. I canât make her kiss my foot, but you can. And youâre going to keep her so busy down there sheâll never even think of the Joker.â
âThatâs the plan,â Bruce replied. He could feel sweat streaming from under his mask.
âYour cockâs beautiful,â Ivy said breathlessly, seemingly unaware that the topic had segued from negotiation to sex. Perhaps there was no difference to her. âSo big. So hard.â
She lovingly pumped it for a few seconds, then rolled it like a cigar between her hands. The reflected light from the dashboard showed her hand moving up and down on his thick member. Already he could feel the gathering cum in his balls. Ivy was an expert; she knew what she was doing in a way that even Talia and Nyssaâs literally immortal sexual histories didnât. His breath came faster and faster.
Bruce was so caught up in the delicious experience that Ivy had to make her request twice. âWhat?â he muttered, not really sure he comprehended.
âMove the seat further back,â Ivy repeated.
Bruce belatedly set the Batmobile to autopilot, then reached down for the seat release and pushed with his back. They slid all the way back.
âDonât take the mask off,â Ivy ordered. Then she bent forward and her barely parted lips slipped wetly down over his pulsing shaft.
âHnnngh!â It was a groan wrenched from Bruceâs soul. He felt his prick give another jerk as if it were alive and independent of him. He knew he couldâve tried to will it limp, to banish the lewd thoughts swirling in his head, but more than his physical seduction was the mental. He wanted it to remain hugely swollen, growing with every flick of Ivyâs shameless tongue.
And why shouldnât he? Perhaps this was as close to love as Ivy could get, aside from the refocused narcissism of her relationship with Harley, the love she held for a seed sheâd planted and cared for in the unforgiving soil of the Jokerâs twisted wreckage. Whatever her actual affections, he knew Ivy well enough to know she would never debase herself like this for the sake of a deception. On some level, she truly was attracted to him, saw this whole thing as some kind of deal and this as some mingling of side benefit and duty. An arrangement, like a plant sucking in carbon dioxide and expelling oxygen. Mutually beneficial.
Her tongue flicked hotly at the opening of his cock, then ran maddening circles around the head. She wrapped her lips around his cockhead so that her mouth felt like a soft, warm condom, being pulled slowly down his shaft.
With her free hand, Ivy reached down into his pants and began gently squeezing his balls in rhythm to her teasing little suckles. Up and down her mouth moved, gently bobbing like she was pumping oil. Bruce was about to go out of his mind from the sensation, his hands straight out, locked on the wheel just for something to hang onto.
Ivy took him deep into her throat. Faster, faster her head moved until Bruce could stand it no longer. He arched his back and raised his ass off the seat to fuck his cock further down her throat. Ivy took it all and, as the head of his prick began swelling enormously, she sucked vigorously. Bruce glanced down and could see her lips bulging as they clung to his wildly fucking cock.
He continued to thrust up to meet her, and she continued to take him. His teeth were clenched shut and hoarse panting whistled through them. His manhood felt as though it weighted a tonâhot molten lava restlessly surging below a volcano.
Bruce knew that, after the long interval of denying himself to please Talia and Nyssa, he was now on the verge of coming. His seed gathered, seething and boiling. The eruption was imminent. Low guttural noises of pleasure came rumbling out of his throat. He was almost there⊠almost⊠almost. Now!
The first hot spurts of cum boiled out of his balls and screamed along his shaft. âHahhhhh!â His cry was meant to give her some warning, but the sound merely increased her sucking frenzy. The hot cum soared out of his manhood in great gushing amounts, and she went on sucking furiously as he put everything he had into her wonderfully greedy mouth.
And still he came, as years of pent-up frustration in fighting her, resisting her, wanting her, yearning for her, needing her defeat and submission and final, irrevocable alignment with him. Not out of fear of a larger threat or as part of some con, but to genuinely and permanently see her no longer a threat, to anyone.
It was what heâd hoped for all along with this undertaking, and seeing his wildest dreams realized manifested itself physically. Just as his drive for justice had created the armor of Batman and the well-disciplined power of Bruce Wayne, his quest for her redemption became almost a cup of semen.
Ivy used her tongue to tease, her lips to suck, until his manhood slowly began to deflate. It was as though she felt it necessary to suck every last drop of whitely heated seed from his balls. She continued to work until he was sure he would have another erection, then she stopped. It was then Bruce realized she hadnât been able to breathe.
She pulled herself off his generous member, cum drooling out of her lazily opened mouth, to finally lay her chin down on his lap and lean her head against his crotch. Bruce gave a mumbled sight of happy release and abruptly became aware that the Batmobileâlights on, motor runningâwas standing motionless in the garage of the Batcave where his autopilot had left it.
Ivy licked her cum-dripping lips, then brushed her lips against his member as if trying to wipe away the lipstick smeared on it.
âI can trust you, canât I Batm⊠Bruce? You always seemed like the only one who gave a damn⊠Batman, I mean⊠and if youâre really Bruce, then I guess he gives a damn tooâŠâ
âYou can trust me,â Bruce said, reaching down to pet her hair. âIâll never do anything to hurt you.â
âYeah⊠thatâs right⊠and you wonât hurt me either⊠you never did want to hurt me, did you?â
âNo.â
âAll this time, telling me I needed help. I never thought youâd be the one to help me. People donât take responsibility like that. They pass everything along. Ignore it. Hope it goes away. Whether itâs a toxic waste dump or a⊠or a woman whoâs been hurt.â
Ivy slithered up until she was enclosed in his arms. Her face was wetâglistening from the cum and streaked with her lipstick. She hugged him tightly and he wrapped his arms around her, the gesture that heâd become so practiced in applying to Harley. Perhaps they had more in common than just sex and crime. Perhaps, damaged and wounded, they saw in each other lost souls like their own. Perhaps that was what Ivy saw in him as well, now that heâd let her see all of him.
Then, imperious as a catâperhaps Ivy had something in common with Selina as wellâthe redhead wiped her mouth with his cape. âDo I look presentable? Can you tell Iâve been sucking you off?â
He inspected her face, and shook his head.
âCan we go to bed, then?â
âGet Nyssa,â Bruce told her. âIâll carry Talia.â
âNyssaâs cuter anyway.â She smiled as she slid out to collect Nyssa from the backseat. As her skirt flared up, Bruce realized he had been right. She wasnât wearing panties after all. The crevice of her smooth young buttocks was a dark inviting line at the top of her smooth thighs.
Bruce pressed the quick-release on his costumeâs systems, letting it fall apart to leave him in only his boxers and undershirt. He wiped away the greasepaint that further concealed his identity, using his forearm, then picked up Talia.
Then, he followed after Ivy.
