Clowning Around

No sooner had Candy come through the door then a splatter of webbing hit it, knocking it shut and closing it tight. She automatically reached for the knob and pulled, but there was no way out of the apartment she’d just entered. And she couldn’t take her eyes off the intruder anyway—the guy who’d shut her in with him. Normally, a strange man in her motel room, locking her in with him would get a rise out of Candy. But this one was a superhero.

It made sense. She’d come to Houston and now she’d met the Scarlet Spider. A chiseled body poured into red and black, with the gimp mask just making it all the kinkier, preventing her from seeing anything about him, even his expression.

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Scarlet said, his voice gruff and growling. “Bad news is, I recognized your act. You, Chloe, Tina, Aya—evil clowns tend to ping the radar with us cape people. So I’ve been following you for a while now, waiting for you to lead me to the others. But it started raining outside and you might be able to guess whether this outfit is waterproof, so I’m taking you now. I figure the others will be showing up sooner or later; small fish like you couldn’t afford to stay in separate places. When they come by, I’ll scoop ‘em up too, and you’ll all go to jail.”

“What’s the good news?” Candy asked.

“Good news is I’m not doing a stand-up routine on you like some other spider-guys would. You’re a clown, a lady, and a ginger. Believe me, it’d be unbearable.”

“Aren’t you going to… web me up or something?” she continued, taking a tentative step deeper into the room.

Scarlet leered at her—she assumed he was leering, through the all-consuming mask. Candy did give people a lot to leer at. “You want me to?”

He stood there, eying her, but not treating her as any sort of threat. She didn’t feel like he was about to gun her down at the slightest twitch, which was comforting, if a little insulting. She was, technically, a goddamn Mob hitwoman, after all…

“Nah; shit’s expensive,” he continued. “I already used some making my point with the door, so if you wanna just sit, I’m good with letting you scratch yourself.”

“And I bet you hope I get an itch, too,” Candy said, though she wasn’t too sure what the innuendo was there. As if she needed to when her hips were wagging with her walk, just to torture him.

She sat herself down in a chair, not sure why she was teasing the man arresting her—wasn’t like she wanted him to rape her. But then, he was a hero. He would never give her his dick without her permission. So, perversely, she kinda wanted him to. Which Candy guessed didn’t make it rape anymore.

“This fucking sucks, y’know?” Candy demanded of him. “It’s not like we’re…” She searched for the words. They came slowly to her high school dropout head. “Career criminals! We were defending ourselves!”

“You burnt down a crackhouse and a circus because you were defending yourselves?”

“Well… y’know… it all got kinda out of hand. But believe me, mister, we’re Thelma and Louise, not… that serial killer chick Charlize Theron had to get all ugly to play! I wouldn’t lie to a superhero!”

“Sorry, babe. Much as the outfit might fool you, I do have a sense of social responsibility. Can’t let you skip along and risk you shooting up any more people. You know how it is.”

Candy surprised herself when she said, “Wouldn’t you rather fuck me, Spider-guy?”

The words just came out. She wondered if it was because of the gin she’d had before making it up here, but she couldn’t kid herself. Her day-drinking might’ve loosened her up, but the plain truth was that she was horny and willing to fuck, whether or not she got put in jail.

Sure, it’d piss her off if he banged her and then jailed her anyway, but at least she’d get a good fuck out of it. The skintight costume showed off enough of his athletic body—and his phallic bulge—for her to be very sure of that.

***

Kaine looked at her. He had trouble keeping himself from simply ripping her clothes off. The woman was sleazy, but honestly sleazy, an ex-whore who’d cleaned up her act enough to appeal to him, while still being dirty enough to appeal to him more. She was built like Mary Jane and stacked like Felicia.

“You’re kidding me,” he whispered.

“Do I look like I’m kidding about wanting to get fucked?” Candy asked him. “For shit’s sake, you know my name is Candy. The fact is, I’d want to fuck you if I just saw you on the street, washboard abs. Sure, maybe your face is all fucked up, but you can do me from behind. All I want is a cock that doesn’t know when to quit. I want a man who can fuck my mouth and my cunt and then roll me over and take my ass too. If you let me go, that’s just a bonus. How about it? Are you my kind of man? Can you get that cock hard and fuck me until I’ve paid my way?”

Kaine blew air between his teeth, fluttering the loose fabric of his mask. She and her gal pals had pretty much only killed criminals. It wasn’t like anyone had jailed him for that. And it wasn’t like Parker never cut Black Cat loose, even if they weren’t as quid pro quo as this was.

Kaine didn’t consider himself a particularly moral person, but he tried to be fair. It seemed to him the honorable thing to do was to fuck this bitch’s ass off, then keep his word to her and let her go. If the police still wanted her, let them do their damn jobs and catch her.

“So, waddya say?” Candy continued.

“I say get that big ass in bed. I want to feel your hot cunt.”

“Sure thing.” Candy smirked. “After I comb my hair.”

Kaine watched her walk to the bathroom, pick up a comb, and run it through her long red hair. It did help out with her frizzy curls. He got the impression it wasn’t just a bitchy power play, but Candy wanted to look her best for him. His spider-sense didn’t warn him about a set of tweezers about to come flying his way or anything.

He stripped, taking off all but his mask—which was a relief on his bulging erection—and climbed under the covers. His straining erection tented the bedsheet. When Candy came out, her hair straight and flat, her skin totally exposed, the mountain at his waist impressed her as much as her bare flesh impressed Kaine.

He stared at her big, buxom body—her statuesque height, her wide hips, her potently rounded breasts—and the only responsible reaction was to crook his finger at her to join him in the bed.

Candy did as his finger ordered, smiling at the way his eyes widened when her huge tits bobbed with each step. As she came closer, he reached out to her, his fingertip brushing over a thick nipple.

“Mmmmm,” she moaned as he clinched it between his thumb and forefinger, pulling on it just enough to give her a tender pain through her breast. She came dutifully closer with his hold on her.

“You look positively illegal,” Kaine said, scanning her lasciviously. “I heard you used to be a pro—why don’t you give me the house special? Show me what that mouth can do.”

Pulling her by both nipples now, he forced her down his body. She pulled the sheet off his lap before taking his cock into her mouth. Candy sucked on it like it was her namesake, licking the throbbing red glans and sliding her tongue under the corona.

She tried to do her usual technique and imagine that his manhood was an ice cream cone, delighting her tongue on a hot August day, but his was too meaty, too hot, throbbing too hard for her to make herself believe that. And Candy didn’t want to. She liked being the one responsible for Kaine’s pleasure. Right now, she didn’t mind thinking of herself as a whore—she wondered if it turned him on to think of her that way too.

“Oh yeah—that’s it, baby,” Kaine moaned as she swirled her tongue around and around his burgeoning cockhead. He adored how she sucked his cock, with a feather light tongue and yet a lusty appetite for the waiting cum in his balls. Either she truly wanted it or she’d gotten damn good at acting like it. “Now pretend I gave you a tip. A great big tip. What would a little whore like you do with my big hard prick then?”

Candy laid down between his legs, taking his cock in her knowing fingers.

“I’d say it’s the biggest, juiciest, hardest prick I’d ever seen,” Candy drawled, rubbing the shaft briskly up and down, but putting most of her effort into her eyes—looking into Kaine’s featureless mask and forcing eye contact despite the opaque lenses, telling him with her gaze that she meant every sultry word.

Her hands did magic on his length. They rolled over his cockhead until it was red-hot, leaking precum abruptly. His balls shuddered with readiness to purge their load.

“I love your cock, Scarlet. I want to fill myself with it. I want to be stuffed with your beautiful cock and come all over it.”

“Mmm,” Kaine hummed with satisfaction. “Then suck it. Suck it until it’s too hard to do anything but fuck you.”

Candy brushed her nipples against his pulsating erection. They want taut at the touch of his swollen manhood. She pinched one hardened nipple between her fingers and rubbed its tip on Kaine’s helmet—making wild, lusty scribbles on the massive cap of his hard-on. She traced circles and dots and triangles on his knob, before running it down the length of his shaft, all the way to his balls.

Then she painted her way back up his stalk, although he was the one painting her—his trembling stiffness coating her nipple with precum. She smeared the juicy white back over his glans, then raised her ample breast to her own lips and licked the nipple clean of his tasty precum. Candy moaned delightedly, both at the feel of her mouth on her own nipple and at how his seed hit her taste buds.

“Yeaahhhh,” Kaine droned softly. “More… I want more…”

Candy grinned to herself. Either he was a satyr of a man to begin with or she’d made him that way tonight. And this insatiable satyr was in control of her. Candy had to do whatever he wanted. Anything he desired from her, he would get. All the treasures of her curvy body were his.

She liked it. She’d missed it. She didn’t miss being a whore, but she did miss whoring. And so she pressed her breasts in on either side of his cock, rubbing them up and down in tandem. At the same time, she licked his cockhead with her tongue going in wet little circles.

The fleshy smacks of sex were deafening, filling Kaine’s ears and contenting him for the moment. As much as his throbbing cock might want more than a titjob and some licking, he contented himself with the knowledge that this gorgeous bitch was in his power. He shouldn’t rush to be done with her, but enjoy the circumstances at his leisure. He doubted someone like Mystique would let him get away with treating her like this.

“Give those tits a rest. They’ve been working hard all day. Use your mouth instead.”

Candy obeyed, licking his prick all over as if lubricating it to enter her mouth, then taking it in, sucking gently on the upper reaches of his erection. She sucked him all the way to the back of her throat. Her fingertips caressed the base of his cock.

“No, don’t suck me anymore,” Kaine said with mock consideration. “You’ve done enough. Let me take over. You just relax—and swallow.”

He put his hands on the sides of her head and fucked his stiff prick deep into her mouth. All of a sudden, so quickly that Candy gagged and sputtered, he was fucking her throat. All she could do was take it, immediately forcing herself to relax as his swollen member pushed deep into her throat. And to her shame, it turned her on. The more he treated her like a whore, the more she got off.

“Fucking nice, slut!” Kaine grunted, his voice guttural now, thick with arousal. “You really have a sweet fucking mouth!”

Candy thought he was going to finish using her mouth, turning it into a cum dumpster, but Kaine had still more uses to put her body to. He fucked his cock in and out of her mouth for a few more seconds, filling her tongue with the taste of precum, then he pulled out of her.

“Whores don’t deserve to swallow cum,” he said roughly. “Whores have to wear it.”

Candy gasped at the glimpse she got of his erection at its zenith, rock-hard and shockingly red, thick white semen bubbling from the swollen glanshole. As she stared disbelievingly at its sheer bulk, Kaine gave it a few quick pumps with his hand and then his cum spilled out, spurting all over her face and hair. Even through his mask, Candy could see his wicked grin as he hosed her down, marking her as his—at least for tonight.

In a way, it was only fitting. What clown didn’t have their face painted white?