As Bruce drove, the steel and stone towers of Gotham turned into dark, looming pines. The batmobile barreled down the dirt path, rumbling, rumbling down into Bruce’s gut. It couldn’t mask the toiling and twisting there, that damnable heat that had been growing since he’d left the docks.
The warmth had been almost imperceptible at first, a balmy thickness he could explain away as the humidity this time of the year. Now? Now the warmth was all over - and deep inside. A buzz danced over his skin, an ache rolled through his flesh, and his suit… his suit was starting to feel snug. Real snug.
Bruce breathed in steadily. He gripped the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead. The cave was minutes away.
The comms cracked on and then he had Alfred’s grainy voice in his ear.
“I can see your vitals, Master Bruce. Your heart rate is going up.”
“It is.” Bruce blew air out his nose. He tightened his jaw.
“Ivy’s concoction was not so benign, I see. Are you feeling alright?”
“Well enough to drive.” The evening glow cut through the pine branches, pale rays of a full moon. There was a yearning in Bruce’s gut then, much deeper than simple hunger. He was reminded then of werewolves, men who were cursed to be beasts. He quickly shook the thought away. Ivy’s alluring poison never made a beast out of the Batman before. He wouldn’t let it happen now. “I can make it home, Alfred. Just make sure the decontamination chamber is ready.”
“Of course, sir. Shall I prepare a detox cocktail as well?”
Bruce was only faintly listening. The road ahead, illuminated by the light of the batmobile, was turning into a haze. And in that haze, the wisps from the depths of his mind were taking shape. Human shape. Feminine shape.
“Master Bruce?”
“Yes, Alfred. Whatever you think is best. I’m almost there.” His response was curt. Perhaps too curt.
Bruce closed the comm line, his lips taking on a tight frown. He breathed deeply but that did not settle his nerves. The heat in his gut was blooming now, spreading embers through his insides, lighting the kindling in his groin. His cock was half-hard and growing harder.
Ivy’s fault, he thought with a grimace. Harley’s too. And mine. Too damn careless.
The tension in his body was stark now, every muscle and joint snapped rigid as a tight rope. Up ahead, the haze taunted him. The ghostly sirens that had taken form struck clear visions now. Familiar faces with sultry eyes and soft, inviting lips. He could almost hear their voices, warm, honeyed words promising even more sweetness.
He could see Ivy again, the green seductress blowing kisses with ruby red lips. She ran a delicate hand through her gorgeous red curls, toying with a lock of hair, twisting it around her finger. He could only imagine how soft her hands would be. She was sitting on the edge of a large bed - his bed - crossing one full, supple thigh over the other. She looked so real then, and those legs looked so inviting, like he could just reach out and touch them.
Then he was seeing Harley Quinn. The blonde was dressed in a new outfit, a biker look, one that showed off her flat, fit tummy. Her pants were black and tight, her top was red and snug. Spaghetti straps bit into her bare shoulders, the tiny bands of fabric being the only things holding her top over those perky, round breasts. She was decorated, too. Pearly black lipstick shocking against her pale skin. A coat of red diamonds emblazoned upon her pant legs. A coat of black diamonds set over one breast. Though neither set was as pretty as the diamond stud glittering on her naval. The limber vixen was posing, leaning on her favorite oversized mallet, offering a look down her top with a knowing grin. Bruce swore he could hear the blonde giggling.
Then there was the third vision - and the clearest. A tall, leggy temptress garbed all in glossy black. Every inch of that wonderful, opulent figure snug below the neck with a second skin. The only break in the black was that beautiful face, pale and stunning. An angel’s face, blue-eyed and dark-haired, set with a devilishly naughty smile. This vision was the strongest of them all… because she was the only one waiting at home for him.
Bruce shook his head, putting the sirens from his mind. Ivy, Harley, Selina… He needed to focus. He needed to drive.
“Just have to get home…”
- - -
There was that rumbling again, faint tremors through the floor. Almost imperceptible but they brought a smile to Selina’s face all the same. The rumbling only meant one thing: he had come home.
Selina sighed as she dropped from the balance beam. Bare feet hit the mat. Perfect poise. Perfect landing. Tiny beads of sweat trickled down her neck and back, making her tank top cling to her skin. The ache running through her body was satisfying - proof of her effort - but Selina knew the real satisfaction was still to come.
Time to welcome hubby home.
Selina was beaming as she snatched the towel hanging off the bench press bar. She slung it over her shoulder and fell into that natural strut of hers, making for the secret staircase that went down to the cave. There was the tiniest skip in her step. Excitement. She couldn’t help it. Bruce always fucked best after working the night shift.
It was a short wait as the grandfather clock slid over to reveal the stairs. From there it was an even shorter walk. By the time she was down in the cave, Bruce had already parked his little bat-car - and judging from the plates and pads scattered along the floor, already out of his suit.
Got started without me, Selina noted with a smidgen of disappointment. Peeling Batman out of his armor was one of Catwoman’s favorite pastimes.
Selina followed the sound of spraying water to a large square stall set up in an alcove some ways away from the central computer hub. The stall was lined with frosted glass and the silhouette within, tall and bulky and looming, was unmistakably Bruce. Alfred stood beside, folded towel in hand.
Curiosity roused, Selina moved in. She let Alfred see her as she got close.
“Decontamination again?” She sighed, eyeing the shade of Bruce’s naked body. She imagined all that solid muscle glistening under the shower spray. “What happened this time? Joker gassed him?”
“One of Poison Ivy’s brews, I’m afraid.” Alfred answered frankly.
“Hm.” Selina pursed her lips. “Thought we had an understanding about that.”
“An understanding, Madam Kyle?”
Selina noted his posture, so rigid and firm. She wondered if the man ever relaxed.
“You know me and Ivy go a ways back. I figured that would be enough to not make a move on my man. Guess not.”
Selina bristled at the thought, imagining Ivy cooing into Bruce’s ear with that smooth seductive voice. Ivy with her plump lips and bouncy red tresses and all those curves poured into a tight little bodice made out of leaves.
“Ivy was not the one who doused him, if I recall.” Alfred’s voice cut those vexing thoughts short. “This is Harley Quinn’s doing. It is no matter, though. Master Bruce claims the effects are negligible. The decontamination shower will make short work of it. And if not, I have a detox solution on standby.”
Alfred nodded to the stand just outside the shower stall. Resting upon it was a small, plastic vial filled with a pale blue solution. If Selina didn’t know any better, she’d say it was some sort of sports drink.
Selina’s attention returned to the stall just beyond, watching the shape of Bruce move behind the frosted glass. His arms were raised to his head now, hands scrubbing through his hair. Big hands and thick, powerful arms. Arms that were better off wrapped around her. Hands that should already be working upon her body.
“Negligible effects, you say?” Selina hummed. “In that case…”
Her sweatpants were pooled around her ankles then. Next she was peeling off her damp tanktop. Alfred let out a cough as he politely averted his eyes but Selina felt no shame. Only a rush of excitement through her nerves. She was done waiting.
Bruce was home. Selina was owed some fun.
“Madam Kyle, I’m not sure that…”
“I don’t think Master Bruce is going to turn away some company.” Selina was smiling as she tossed away her panties last. “Do you?”
She didn’t wait for an answer as she made for the stall door. Her focus was on the man waiting inside. Her man. Every glistening inch of him.
Behind her, a world away, Alfred let out a small sigh.
“No. I don’t suppose he would. I’ll go… prepare supper.”
The older man excused himself. Not that Selina noticed or cared. She drew the stall door open and hot steam poured down over her naked body, invisible hands, tendrils, all snaking around her and drawing her in. The warmth was splendid upon her skin. Yet the sensation paled against the sight of her prize. The tall, brawny figure was not yet clear, still caught in the thick haze of the shower steam. But the detail she could see was exquisite - just as it had been every time before.
Selina closed the stall and drifted deeper into the heat.
Bruce had turned to her and she delighted in the water spilling down over his shoulders, his chest, all down his front, all the way down to his-
“Selina.” He greeted calmly - pretending that he wasn’t eyeing her bare tits the way she was drinking in his thick, hanging cock. “Alfred let you in?”
“Like he could stop me.”
The Cat Thief slinked closer, fingertips sliding up the solid muscle of his stomach. The water that poured over him trickled over her hands, warmth spilling over her skin as she felt up the firmness, the power of his body. Bruce once said he’d turned his body into a weapon, tempered and sharpened. In truth, he had turned his body into a work of art. The finest masterpiece Catwoman had ever stolen.
Her hands were at his chest now and she was pressed so close that the shower spray was pouring down over the both of them. Close enough that she had his prick nestled nicely between her thighs. Right where she wanted him.
“This isn’t a great time…” Bruce started, though clearly lacking in conviction.
“You gonna kick me out?” Selina pouted. A slight shift of her hips had his cock brushing through the softness of her inner thighs. The poor thing stirred then. The little jump that shot through his length had her belly fluttering.
He could never say no to her. Not when she had him like this.
Bruce said nothing. His cock answered for him, twitching so hard between her thighs that the swollen crown batted up against her buttocks like a club. Selina let out a low hum, pushing herself even closer. Her breasts pressed against the man’s broad, solid chest, hard nipples scraping exquisitely along wet, warm skin. She slid her hands up behind his neck, bringing him down to her for a long-awaited kiss. Selina didn’t waste time on something chaste. She craved fire. Her tongue demanded it. It delighted her how easily Bruce obliged. As the water washed over them both, streams dribbling between their faces, Selina claimed territory with her mouth… and ceded even more to Bruce in return. By the time they broke apart, her heart was hammering against her ribcage… and the fluttering in her belly had turned into the exquisite twisting of her innards.
The cock nestled between her thighs was harder than ever. Selina swore to herself that it might have swollen even bigger.
“That’s what I thought.” Selina purred victoriously. She laid kisses upon Bruce’s chin, little teasing things. “You’ve got husbandly duties, Mister Wayne.”
His large hands settled on her waist then, feeling so delightfully warm and firm. Selina had come to love the feeling of those callouses against her soft skin. These were the hands of a working man. The only hands that knew how to work her body. One of those hands roamed over her buttocks. The groping that followed was possessive… and welcome.
“Wedding isn’t until Spring.” He reminded her huskily.
“Husbandly duties like keeping your beautiful woman satisfied, Mister Wayne.” There was heat to her words. Her hands slid from his neck and she did some roaming herself, feeling up all that firm muscle packed onto his body. Eventually, her touch made its way down south. She stepped back as she took Bruce by his cock, stroking that fattened rod with both hands. “You had me waiting all day. I think I’m owed a little something - or a big something, in your case.”
“Selina…” Bruce’s voice had an edge, too. Though it was probably because of Selina and her pumping hands.
“Uh-uh. You’re the man of this house. You’ve got the cock. You remember how to use it?”
Even through the shower steam, Selina could see it, the flash in Bruce’s eyes. Electric blue burning hot with challenge. He moved quickly, using his height and size to overwhelm her. In the space of a second, he had Selina pinned against the stall glass. The shock of cold at her back was smothered by the warmth of Bruce’s thick, powerful arms coiling around her. He was kissing her again, unleashing all that pent-up lust she knew he held locked within. It was even more fierce than Selina expected, the way he devoured her mouth. And God, that prick of his, so fat and hard and hot as it slid between her thighs.
“Ha!” Selina cried out joyously as Bruce gave her the chance to breathe. “I’ll take that as a yes!”
Bruce let out a low grunt. He bucked his hips, pitching his cock deeper into the crevice of her thighs. The shaft teased along Selina’s aching pussy, sending a blitz through her nerves. A sigh rose from her throat and she squirmed even closer to him. Damn if that monster didn’t belong inside her cunt already.
“This is a bad idea.” Bruce said suddenly. “Ivy-”
Selina coiled one of her legs around his as he tried to back away. She met the man’s eyes with a blistering look.
“Negligible effects. That’s in your own words, Alfred said.”
“Negligible isn’t none.”
“Well then maybe a nice, hard fuck will make you feel better, help clear your head. I know it does for me.”
There was quiet between them. Silence but for the spray of the shower.
Bruce had a new look now. A shadow across his eyes. And in that dark… two pits piercing into her. Hungry. Ravenous. Predatory.
Selina loved it. She loved the way he loomed over then, all that size and power and muscle threatening to unleash upon her poor body. There was no better drug than when Bruce made her feel small.
She reached up and stroked his cheek. All gentle and lady-like.
“A little taste of the honeymoon, Bruce. That’s all I want.” She whispered against his lips.
“You never settle for anything little.” Bruce growled back. He nudged her legs apart with his knee. The fat crown of his cock prodded at her sex, each tap bringing a jolt through her nerves. Her blood was singing, simmering.
“You’re right.” Selina’s giggle was tiny, breathless, and sinful. “I don’t.”
The next moment he was inside her. The length of his thick, veiny meat skewering her tight, wet cunt. Spreading, splitting her apart. And she was screaming, screaming, screaming.
Screaming in bliss. Because every inch of that beautiful, beastly cock belonged to her.