Everybody Wants Zinda

Roy woke up lustful as hell. An almost narcotic level of sensuality, glazed and dull and warm and comfortable… he moved, unseating Misfit from where she was sprawled on his chest. She briefly stirred in her unconsciousness—at some point, Roy had come all over her breasts, and their later embrace had smeared the stickiness across Roy’s own flesh. That, dried sweat, a full bladder, and a growing thirst pulled Roy out of the lethargy he’d been enjoying ever since filling Misfit’s juicy cunt.

He left Misfit collapsing back into slumber and staggered to his feet—gathering up what few items of clothing he could find scattered across the floor and pulling them on. It calmed his nerves a little, although he couldn’t vouch for the freshness of anything he’d put on. It’d been a while since he’d done the laundry or straightened up his room at the Clocktower—it could’ve been months since the Oxford shirt he threw on unbuttoned or the jeans he pulled up without underwear had been off the floor. But it warmed his belly like good whiskey to be even mildly dressed.

That’s what this felt like. Like he’d fallen off the wagon. Opened up the floodgates and let in a deluge of his sweetly self-destructive desires. But he couldn’t remember any wanton depravity. Just the feel of Misfit’s flesh—his manhood throbbed wildly in his unsecured pants as he remembered the redhead’s sweet taste. He could almost feel her soft lips still pulling and milking his pulsing erection.

Roy moaned hatefully. That just made his burgeoning bladder feel worse. He zombie’d his way to the bathroom, holding up his jeans until he reached the toilet, then he let them fall and steadied himself with his hand against the wall. It was a sign of his accuracy that he managed to keep his piss in the bowl instead of on the wall and floor, which scurried around and fucked with his aim.

He let his cock dangle out of his undone fly as he walked back to the bedroom. Misfit lay naked on the bed, her sweetly proportioned body awash in creamy shades of white. Her own pale flesh, the stark white sheets that lovingly surrounded her naked body, and the ropes of his cum that fluorescently smeared and glowed across her nubile physique, setting off memories of each deliciously decadent explosion that had marked her so. 

Roy unconsciously began to stroke his half-hard manhood, skimming the foreskin over his burgeoning knob as he stared at Misfit, who slept peacefully, her hands sprawled on her own kinkily tangled body, feeling the layer of cum painted across her body by her own unthinkingly massaging hands. As he watched, Misfit clamped her legs together and kicked her feet weakly, as if dealing with some lingering soreness between her much-abused thighs. The morning light through the windows finally gave the pallid scene some color in the form of a golden glow, some life which only made Misfit’s disheveled hair and sleepily open lips the more appealing. Sweat and seed covered her flushed body, with its hints of passionate bruising—and being registered in Roy’s gaze almost seemed to animate them, as Misfit moaned in her sleep, reliving how thoroughly she’d enjoyed herself. 

God, Roy wished he was back between her soft legs. But he couldn’t summon up quite the debauchery to do so. The picture of innocence Misfit presented, no matter how soiled, was inviolate to him, but candy to his lust. He stood there and stroked himself, wondering if in her dream, Misfit wanted to be fucked as badly as he wanted to be doing the fucking.

***

Dinah walked through the halls of the Clocktower, thinking again of what Barbara had learned over the course of her interminable research. She’d never before appreciated the patience it took Babs to compile all her information before seeing her in action—now she could say with certainty that she much preferred simply having all the details handed to her in a nice, color-coded file.

Coming to Roy’s room, she knocked on the door, knowing it would make him feel better to be brought up to speed personally after he’d been benched. There was no answer. “Roy?” she called. Again, no answer. 

She tried the doorknob and it was locked, so she punched her override code into the keypad by the door. The lock clicked and let her in; she pushed the door open just in time to see Roy walking unsteadily up to the door. His shirt was open, his pants undone, and Dinah was stunned to see his cock out, almost entirely hard—stout and sturdy, the big purple knob flaring down between his legs. After the long interval Dinah had contented herself with dildos, she was surprised by the sheer masculinity of his manhood—not elegant or refined, but a tool, long and hard and clearly ready to be used.

Then she realized Roy was returning the favor she had unthinkingly done him—staring woozily at her bare legs, so beautifully released once her short blue skirt ended. Straining to keep his bleary eyes focused, he raised his gaze to her lush breasts with such open adoration that Dinah felt like covering herself. She couldn’t believe they’d suddenly found themselves here, staring at each other like this—him next to naked, and her feeling the half-naked status she usually was so empoweringly inured to.

“Roy!” Dinah finally gasped. “What the hell?”

The sound evidently hit his ears with a force Dinah had not intended. Roy raised his hands to his head, pressing his palms inward as if trying to hold something in, while his unattended jeans slipped down a few more inches. Dinah covered her mouth with a shocked hand as she saw his engorged balls, and now was forced to wonder how much they could entreat her with in bed.

“I, uh…” Roy trailed off, flexing his fingers on his obviously throbbing cranium. “Think Talia mighta slipped me something… feeling kinda… you got a boyfriend?” he slurred suddenly, staring at Dinah’s bare thighs in a sudden quandary. They looked good, Misfit’s looked good—he wondered if Dinah’s would feel as good as Misfit’s had when they were wrapped around his waist.

Dinah ignored his query. It was obvious Roy was in dire need of a cold shower, in more ways than one. “Come on,” she told him, keeping her voice to a whisper to avoid triggering the pounding headache he doubtlessly had. But when she reached for him, she caught a whiff of his odor, and backed up, retching. A career involving both physical exertion and skintight bodysuits had gotten her very used to sweat and body odor, but Roy reeked of sweat, sex, and stale urine.

“For fuck’s sake,” she said under her breath, and Roy whimpered, holding his head. “Sorry!” Dinah whispered apologetically, then grabbed him firmly by his unbuttoned shirt and hauled him to the bathroom, where she was very grateful to turn on the shower full blast and park him underneath it. For good measure, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands with soap at the faucet, before tossing the cake of soap into the shower with Roy. 

“As soon as you remember how to use that,” she told him, “you’ll be ready to come out.”

“My… my clothes!” Roy sputtered, not even able to speak without getting his mouth swamped with the shower spray.

“We’ll just have to dry them before we burn them,” Dinah said.

She left Roy to marinate in the running water and went into the bedroom to find Misfit still cavorting semi-consciously in a tangle of sheets and sprawl of limbs. Dinah ripped the sheet away, although she felt an unconscionable urge to rip a limb away instead.

Misfit did not wake, instead staying immersed in whatever autoerotic slumber Roy had left her in. Dinah had still been thinking of her as the scrawny little adolescent that had come to the Birds playing Batgirl, but she had grown up, filled out—still petite, still slender, but with a girlish charm that made her all-woman. It actually aroused Dinah a little, seeing her naked, debauched, but any lust she might’ve truly felt only served to anger her when she reminded herself that the liquid lust doused on Misfit’s newfound curves all belonged to Roy.

“Get up!” Dinah cried, giving the bedframe a sharp kick that drove the headboard into the wall, gouging the plaster. 

Misfit bolted awake, registering Dinah’s presence with an adolescent kick of energy that just pissed her off further. “Dinah!” she gasped. “I thought you were on the mission!”

“I was,” Dinah said in a cold voice. “Guess you were a little too busy to hear us get back.”

Misfit’s cheeks flushed, making Dinah even more upset as the newly arrived color further highlighted the cum Roy had strewn across her face. “What’s the big deal?” she asked, in defensive embarrassment. “Is Helena the only one allowed to fuck Roy on this team?”

Dinah ground her teeth for a moment to keep from unleashing a Canary Cry. “Get out!” she shouted. “And I don’t ever want to see you around Roy again!”

Misfit teleported into a standing position beside the bed, facing Dinah with her hands poised on her naked hips. “I’m not a child anymore, Dinah. And Roy isn’t either, for your information.”

“Believe me,” Dinah hissed lethally. “I am well-aware of that.”

Misfit smirked. “Oh, I get it. You’re jealous.”

Dinah swiped at her and Misfit disappeared in a quick burst of energy, reappearing across the room. “I am not jealous!” Dinah insisted. “Roy is a good friend of mine and he needs to be in a real relationship, not hooking up with some barely legal… tart!”

“A real relationship with you?” Misfit taunted. 

Dinah clambered across the bed to get at her, becoming mad enough to literally scream when her knee sank into a wet spot on the mattress. Jesus fucking Christ, how many rounds had those two gone?

Misfit was so shocked by Dinah’s sudden anger that she forgot to teleport, instead turning on her heels and running into the bathroom, where she collided with Roy as he came out of the shower.

“Hi,” she said, fawning over him as she was abruptly reminded of the muscles and scars and prodigious member that had made sex with Roy such a delight. Then Dinah grabbed her by the hair. “Oww—ow—owie!”

She disappeared in a flash of light, leaving Dinah holding only a few stray follicles. Dinah brushed her hands off disgustedly.

“What was that about?” Roy asked, dumping his old clothes in the garbage bin. He had wrapped a towel around his waist and seemed finally to have come back to himself—Dinah cursed her luck.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “Girltalk… I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait,” Roy said. “What about the temple? What’d you find?”

Dinah traipsed away, Roy following her, grabbing a robe to throw on over his towel. Dinah’s angry energy didn’t know what to do with itself. She had cooled down just enough to stop herself from pummeling Misfit, or Roy for that matter, but she still felt a crazy urge inside, which she tried to sublimate into sorting out what Barbara had gone over.

“The monks worshipped a kind of zodiac. Recurring archetypes that keep showing up throughout history in cycles, again and again. A pantheon like the Knights of the Round Table or the Greek gods.”

“Now you sound like Maxie Zeus,” Roy said, and Dinah heard his towel come off. She reflexively turned her head to look back, catching a glimpse of him tying the belt of his robe before she looked straight ahead again. Of course Roy wouldn’t just shuck his towel for no reason. 

She stepped out of his quarters and went over to her own. Next door neighbors. If she’d slept through the mission to the abbey, she could’ve listened as Roy fucked Misfit’s brains out. Or maybe he wouldn’t have been interested in a girl when he could’ve had a woman…

“Well, no surprise what those archetypes are nowadays.”

“Superheroes,” Roy said.

“And supervillains. Shiva’s having Zinda fuck people who fit the iconography.”

“Jesus,” Roy said.

“The first archetype, the coloring and the eye—it seems like it’s Deathstroke. We’re going to hunt him down and see what he knows.”

“So you’re saying this is all some sort of prophecy Shiva’s fulfilling?”

“Who knows?” Dinah asked tiredly. “We might wear the same stockings, but Zatanna’s the one who gets all the metaphysical stuff. I just want to find Zinda before she gets hurt.”

The door to her quarters opened up. Dinah could see her bed inside it, waiting invitingly. She remembered how Misfit had looked in Roy’s, fucked silly, pounded and pumped until she was drooling, utterly drunk on her own satisfaction. Dinah resisted her aggressive need to yell at Roy for that, for fucking a girl half his age, no matter how legal Misfit was, how much she had wanted it… who wouldn’t want it… the little hussy…

“It’s late,” Dinah said. “I need to get some sleep. It’ll take time for even Oracle to track Slade down, and when she does I want to be well-rested.”

“Night,” Roy said noncommittally.

“Night,” Dinah said, and closed the door behind her.

Roy opened it. Standing in the doorway, he watched her. Dinah didn’t look back. Was it impossible for her to think that she would follow him, or did she just not dare to admit the possibility?

Standing at the side of the bed, Dinah took off her blouse, then slipped her way out of her skirt with a wiggle of her ass. Roy felt his cock grow hard as he stared at the creamy roundness of Dinah’s ass, the perfect slope tantalizing the eye and teasing the hand to follow. He could imagine his fingers traveling the smooth contours that descended from her lower back to the swell of her buttocks, pert plumpness filling his hand, then the dimpled curve of her asscheeks into her sleek thighs.

Dinah stood there a moment naked, eyes closed, remembering how Shiva had touched her. She ran her fingers up her thighs, touching lightly at the wet hair of her pussy. Her fingers moved higher, touching electrically to the rounding of her clit with a contact that made her hips jerk. She mewled softly as the intensity of it echoed through her.

God, it was so wrong to do this while Zinda was missing, while the woman who’d taken her was part of Dinah’s fantasy. She turned toward her closet, figuring that covering her naked body in a robe would do something to deaden the temptation.

Then she saw Roy.

He was leaning against the doorjamb, his eyes shining with excitement. His cock was engorged in hardness against the loose fabric of his bathrobe. Dinah froze, her eyes riveted on that tented fold. She clenched her hands into fists, but couldn’t look away.

Roy could, though. His eyes moved from her heaving breasts—the round, firm flesh supporting two erect nipples—down to the sweeping curves of her figure and the long, languid unspooling of her thighs down to her feet. He stared at her bright yellow pubic hair, her slim thighs, then looked up into her eyes, his own unfocused, glowing with the heat of having seen her naked.

“Roy,” Dinah finally managed to say, “don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Roy asked.

“Like you’re going to…”

“To do what?”

Dinah wondered why she couldn’t move her hands, cover her breasts, her cunt. She trembled, acutely aware that he could see all of her. Her nipples were getting harder, her breasts heaving higher—her cunt very, very wet.

“Something you want me to do?” Roy persisted, taking a step closer.

“No,” Dinah said, but not firmly. More like it was a question.

“Something you do to yourself?”

“Roy…”

“Touch you like you touch yourself? Touch you like you wished you could touch yourself?” Roy took another step. “Touch you like I touched Misfit?”

For what seemed like an eternity, he stared at her and she stared at him. Then, to her own confusion, Dinah moved her hand, but not to conceal herself. Her fingers ran through the sparse hair of her pubis, parting it, then rubbing lightly at her clitoris. Equally irresistibly, her eyes were drawn to the heft of Roy’s manhood, barely hidden by the robe drifting against its mass. She couldn’t stop herself. She widened her stance, her hips pushing forward to make the contact between her hand and her throbbing clit even sweeter. It felt so good to do it in front of Roy. Knowing she was being seen. Knowing it was him that was watching.

He looked at her with the same lovelorn simplicity as when he’d been a boy, almost worshipful, disbelieving that someone could be so perfect. The years hadn’t soured her or dirtied her in his eyes. His admiration for her only burned hotter, even though he knew her better than ever, all her flaws and mistakes. The raging fire of his lust was now blue-hot; a pure, clean flame—lecherous but pristine. He wanted her, wanted her body, but also her pleasure, her friendship, everything about her—a greed and hunger that was also all-accepting, heedless of all the red flags that went with her bullshit. He didn’t care about her failures, her shortcomings, her scars, her quirks, anymore than she could bring herself to care about his addiction, his thing with Cheshire, or even the fact that he’d fucked two of her friends in the past two days. 

“I want you,” Roy said bluntly.

“Want me?” Dinah asked, almost losing her voice.

“You. Your body. Your mouth. Your cunt. All of you. I need you. My cock needs you. You can tell just by looking at it.”

“Show me, then,” Dinah heard herself whisper, as she tried desperately to take her finger away from her swollen clit, but was unable to. 

Roy pulled at his robe until it was falling from his body, letting her see him, the burnished muscles of his tall frame—the dark hair that briskly covered his chest, his legs, his groin—the cock that stood up at attention, even harder now than it was before. Dinah had seen some big dicks in her time, even Roy’s had been impressive enough when it was half-hard. But now it was for her. 

All the lust in it coming from the thought of her and the sight of her naked body. She wanted it, bone-deep, even as she tried to deny the rest of the situation. Dinah tried not to let herself want Roy or Roy’s love or the pleasure fucking him would bring, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting his cock. She could’ve sworn she felt its beautiful thickness already, sliding into her, stretching her, filling her, heating her when her cunt had already warmed itself as much as it could and that wasn’t enough. She moaned throatily, thinking that she could fuck this man. She could let him fuck her and no one would stop her.

“I want you,” Roy said again, his voice small. He began to babble: “Please, Dinah—if you want me even a little—let me at least try to make you happy. I can’t stop thinking about you. Give me a chance. Let me show you what I learned about pleasuring women from all those other girls, the girls who don’t matter, the girls who weren’t you. I know how much you deserve to feel good, Dinah. I can give you what you deserve, what you need. Look at you, Dinah. You can’t take your eyes off my prick. You know it’s what you want.”

What she knew was that it was useless to try to pretend she didn’t. She wanted his cock inside her, she wanted him fucking her, and she wanted it bad. It was not all because she had seen firsthand the kind of delicious oblivion she could be in from Misfit, or that she was jealous of the younger woman, or that she wanted Roy before one of the many other women who desired him were able to ensnare him—steal him away from her when there was nothing keeping her from taking him herself.

Perhaps it was simply that she loved Roy so much that if the relationship became passionate, sexual, than that was simply another way they could love each other. A new, wonderful way. Not like the corrupted, almost hateful thing that her relationship with Ollie had become, but something as pure and as good as when they had first befriended each other. The sex would only intensify that, not change it. Even if she ran the risk of ruining it, there was no salvaging the friendship as it was, no pretending that he didn’t want her cunt or she his prick. They could act on those feelings or they could not, but they couldn’t deny them any longer. 

Dinah nodded her head. 

“You want this?” Roy asked without question, taking hold of his cock in a tight fist. The swollen cockhead was dribbling precum down his fingers.

Dinah nodded again, biting her lower lip. Her eyes smoldered as they focused on his knob and the generous portion of semen it was already offering her. “Yes,” she whimpered, picturing Misfit again and knowing she would end up that way—fucked out of her mind, covered in cum, with Roy beside her in bed, equally paradisiacal. She wanted that almost as much as she wanted to be fucked… to have someone, to wake up next to a man that was hers.

It felt like both a surrender and a delicious release to sit down on the edge of the bed and allow herself to really look at Roy, as a man, a lover. She leaned back, bracing herself with her hands behind her, opening her legs to allow him to look at her in turn.

“Come here,” she whispered throatily. “Give me what I want.”

A grin spread across Roy’s face as he moved to her. Dinah watched his cock, unerringly hard, pointed directly at her, and her sex pulsed. 

Roy’s knees knocked against the mattress. He was standing between her open thighs, staring down at her open pussy, seeing her wetness, the visible thrum of her clitoris. Did he know that it wasn’t just because he was a man, or because of his big cock, but because it was him? Dinah felt the heat of his eyes on her body, scouring her like it was virgin flesh he was surveying, and she trembled. 

With a hungry moan, she reached out and took hold of his cock. He took his hand off it and let her close her fingers tightly around his hardness. She pulled him to her as he came down onto the mattress on all fours, looming over her as she laid down on her back. He let her guide him to her wet cunt. They touched. Her eyes were glazed, her hips rolling obligingly as she felt his cockhead against her womanhood, throbbing every bit as much as her clit had.

“Roy,” she sighed, letting him hear in her voice how she relished calling him that, calling her lover that, speaking his name with all the desire pounding in her chest. “Oh Roy, Roy…”

She rolled his knob downward, along her slit, between her fiery lips. Her throat wrenched and gave an eager sob—with her other hand she grabbed hold of Roy’s naked flesh, forced their bodies together. Fucking herself onto the erection that was meant for her.

“God!” she cried, twisting her hips, giving herself to his cock and accepting it inside her. “Oh, fuck—Roy!”

Roy’s body was shaking in pleasure, every well-toned muscle flexing as he absorbed the warmth and pressure of Dinah’s cunt finally around his cock. He stared at it, unable to believe the mere sight of her pussy splayed open by his prick, much less the wet heat he could feel crushing into his manhood.

Dinah paused with half of his length inside her, purring with satisfaction already. She nearly came just from that much, her sex tightening around his shaft, and Roy’s eyes fluttered with ecstasy. Slowly, very slowly, Dinah eased the rest of his prick inside herself. She felt the sensitive lips of her labia, as far apart as they’d ever been, kissing his groin. His entire length was deeply buried inside her, his balls pressed up against the buoyant cheeks of her ass. 

For a long, breathless moment, neither moved, didn’t even breathe. He was inside her and she was around him. His cock, taboo and forbidden for so long, now filled her, deliciously stretching her cunt around the lustful erection she was now forced to acknowledge—the lust she had always inspired in him. Dinah could only hope he found her pulsating tightness as pleasing as she found his cock; her cunt was squeezing every time Roy throbbed against its folds, proving to both of them that he had filled her to capacity. 

Dinah looked up at him, her fond gaze now awash with unswerving gratitude for how much he had satisfied her already. “Fuck me,” she said, before her eyes shut tightly, too lost in pleasure to be kept open. “You were right—I want it, I need it! Do it! Fuck me! Show me what I’ve been fucking missing!”