Mistah Kay update

Harley Quinn stripped off the Blondie shirt and popped off her top, now showing Kon the tattoos that marred the perky perfection of her body. Kon felt his ennui draining away again. This time he didn’t think it would come back. Existential questions and a guilty conscience were too boring to compete with how damn compelling that body was.

Harley did a pirouette for him, showing off the tattoos. There was a tramp stamp and text running under the curve of her breast and a disembodied Joker smile at her underarm and one that had the audacity to ruin her adorable face, because it ran the line of her jaw. He hadn’t seen it before because she had kept that side of her profile turned away from him. And even with those ugly marks, bad as bruises, on her, her petite figure was still enormously arousing.

“You see the problem?” she asked.

“Not at all,” Kon muttered.

“I’m serious now! Can you get this shit off me or what?”

Kon snapped to. “Yeah. Sure thing!” Much as he hated to have to focus on business at the best of times, a grateful Harley Quinn could only come in handy down the line. At the very least, she would keep her shirt off.

“Alrighty then. Guess I’ll just brace myself—it hurt enough gettin’ all this crap.” She bent over the sink, grabbing hold of the porcelain sides to squeeze down on. “Okay, Supersonny, do your werst!”

Kon grabbed hold of her, his hands sinking into her little waist. It was an effort not to do more than that, especially with the image that this pose popped into his head: Harley bent over, him behind her, his hands on her hips. It was a lucky thing the mirror was broken so he couldn’t see how it looked reflected back at him—how was that for irony?

He concentrated on his power, bringing it awake, letting it fill his body, then pushing it into Harley’s form. It was a little like echolocation and a little like a blind man groping about. He wasn’t exactly doing an MRI of her, but he could feel out the subtle differences in the substance of her—like the ink particles floating in her skin, turning its otherwise perfect evenness into a mosaic of textured terrain.

Kon directed his attention to the swarm of them stuck in the aspic of her lower back, feeling out each individual mote, then separating them, gently bringing them out of the relinquishing tissue. It wasn’t all at once, but a slow process. Like a scattergun blast into a ballistic gel torso, played in reverse, all the little pellets seemingly being sucked out by the rewind.

“Oooooh,” Harley trilled, her lips gaping open and her eyes squeezing shut.

Kon’s hands kneaded her waist. It was all he could do now to pull her bubble butt to his stirring groin and grind that supple flesh against his hard-on. “Something wrong?”

“Uh-uh, Superboychik. It feels just fine. It tingles…”

“Right.” Kon daringly patted Harley’s ass, but she didn’t appear to mind. “Hold tight. I’ll so be back.”

“I’ll stay plenty tight… til ya want me to be loose…”

His telekinesis had yielded up a cloud of ink that had dispersed into the air, but the removal had left the site of Harley’s former tramp stamp reddened and raw, with traces of blood like a scraped knee or skinned elbow.

Kon took a handkerchief from his pocket—he had lived in Kansas a while—and wetted it from a leak in the showerhead, then daubed Harley’s hurt clean with the damp cloth. That done, he slung the makeshift washcloth over his shoulder and replaced his hands on Harley’s waist, this time going so far as to stroke up and down her lean midsection. Harley cooed, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the further inroads he was making into her personal space, either to chide or approve. Except he guessed her little sigh of pleasure was endorsement enough.

At any rate, Kon decided that he could wait to go further until he’d finished his task and the ball was in Harley’s court. He flowed his telekinesis into her, this time directing it to the tattoo that’d dared to try and ruin her cleavage. It was like an inversion of running water through a sieve—making the ink come to the sieve—and this time Harley spoke.

“Oh WOW!”

“What is it?” Kon asked again—this time he didn’t stop.

Harley drawled so heavily she almost had a southern accent. “It rawwlly tingles.”

Harley wasn’t lying. She wasn’t a good enough actress. The goony smile on her face was perfectly sincere and so was how her nipples stood up, stirring with the stiffness imposed upon them by the electrical current running through her body, so close to those sensitive buds.

Quinn wasn’t very used to foreplay, having been the Joker’s girl for so long, but this seemed like the most exquisite kind that there possibly could be. It was torture to have to wait for more—a war crime when the sensation stopped, left Harley cravinglike an addict going cold turkey.

“One more,” Kon said, now having to force down his arousal, make himself focus on the text spoiling Harley’s gorgeous visage from earlobe to the point of her chin—Clowning Around. He pushed his power into the very words and slowly… tantalizingly slowly… separated them from Harley’s perfect face.

Harley licked her lips, her eyelids fluttering. A strange warmth was settling over her, an enticed pleasure not starting in any of the usual erogenous zones. Instead, it fleetingly brushed over her face with a repeated, maddening lack of intensity. It could’ve been the barest touch of a fingertip or even the gaze of a voyeur, but from the moment she felt it, Harley wanted the contact to be firmer, wanted more, but it hatefully stayed at the same mockingly level. All while her body grew hotter and hotter.

Her mouth hung open. Her tongue lolled out. Her eyes were rolled up in her skull. It was only the cessation of that taunting delight that brought her back to herself. She looked at her reflection in the only shard left of the mirror and saw Kon reach around her to mop her flustered face—she was blushing so red that she could only tell where her possessive tattoo had been from memory.

“There,” Kon muttered. “All better.”

“Thanks,” Harley drawled. “Wanna fuck me?”

Kon dropped his hanky. “Huh?”

“What, is superhearing the only power you didn’t get from daddy? Do you want to fuck?”

He coughed. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…”

Harley whirled on him, so fast that her hip brushed against his protruding erection, denim and spandex sparking together—not able to conceal the warmth of her flesh or his prick. “You gotta be kidding! You have any idea how many baddie girls like me would love to spread for a goody good guy like you, but we can’t because you won’t go for us? Now you tell me you ain’t good no more, but you still won’t fuck me? Let’s be honest. All I want is a big dick inside me and it sounds like you can deliver. D’ya wanna or not?”

“Well, sure, but I—“

“But nothing,” Harley interrupted him. “You got my cunt hot, now do something about it. Here, I’ll make it easy for ya!”

Shoving him away the tiny distance she could move him, she tore off her shorts. She had on a pair of sheer white panties. She tugged them down too and Kon saw that her pink little pussy was carpeted with thick, coffee-colored fuzz.

“So I ain’t a natural blonde,” Harley snapped. “Everything else about me is real. You can see for yourself. Just let me find us a bed. You’ve made me ache enough for one date…”

She led him along a Christmas-lighted path to the bedroom—empty and shadowed since she’d stripped it of all the Joker memorabilia that had once made it a shrine. She laid down on her back, opening her thighs, revealing the glossy inner flesh of her waiting cunt underneath the empty outlines where now-removed picture frames had shielded their fading from the light.

“Hurry up now,” she breathed hoarsely. “I want you to put it in me right now!”

With shaking hands, Kon peeled off his shirt, removed his belt and opened his fly, then dropped his pants and boxers, all this while kicking off his shoes more or less at the same time. He tugged off his socks last and only then did he realize he was naked. Kon froze, standing before her, unthinkingly and yet self-consciously displaying his cock. The purple head already shone with precum, moist and sticky, dripping from the quavering tip.

Harley stared at his prick and saw that it was the biggest she’d ever gotten. She squeezed her thighs together. It would do the job. It might just kill her, but it would get the job done first.

“I want every inch of that thing up inside me,” she muttered. “Gadzooks, that’s a rocket launcher!”

Kon couldn’t stop staring at her pussy. He roved forward. “That’s where I’m gonna put it—right in your cunt!”

“Oh, you wanna fuck me?” Harley asked coyly, reaching down to splay her labia.

“Damn right!”

“How?” she teased, opening her cuntlips wider. “Is this just gonna be any ol’ fuckaroo?”

Kon felt a growl welling up inside him as he threw himself down onto Harley’s yielding body, not giving a damn about anything else except having her—not Lex Luthor, not his soul, nothing. All that mattered was how soft Harley was, how warm, how she surrendered. Her firm round tits pressed into his chest, hard nipples digging into the skin. He covered her face and throat with burning kisses, then moved his lips between her breasts. His hands ran under her sylphlike body, squeezing hard the satiny flesh of her pert buttocks.

“No, I’m gonna fuck you hard,” Kon told her. “I’m gonna pound your pussy so hard… fuck your ass right through the mattress!”

Harley had never been fucked like this before, used so thoroughly, everything she had to offer up taken and enjoyed. She felt Kon’s fingers and mouth like she was experiencing touch for the first time. His excitement flew into her—she breathed hotly into his ear and then dipped her sweet tongue into it, tickling the inside, then running its tip over the outside. Her teeth nibbled on the lobe while her hand looked for what it needed: the steely hardness of his erection.

“Big talk,” Harley challenged him. “But what I want is that big cock!”

Kon gasped as her teasing fingertips touched his throbbing member, then closed firmly around it. His neck twisted and he pushed his mouth harshly into hers. Their tongues whipped together. Harley pressed the full length of her luscious little body against his, his cock caught upright between their bellies, engorged balls pushed against her cunt.

Growling herself, Harley rolled onto her back, pulling Kon on top of her, her legs open as wide as they could get. Her humid pussy was freely spread, anticipating the plunge of his cock. Its folds trembled with each moment they weren’t wrapped around his Kryptonian stiffness.

Kon panted raggedly, his mind hazy with lust. He slipped his hands along Harley’s sweaty thighs and once more covered the roundness of her ass, as juicy as it was compact, as tart as a small, ripe berry. He pulled her up to meet his covering body, the slipperiness between her legs pressing against his groin.