Safehouse

It had been five hours since Barbara Gordon had arrived at the safehouse, with only a beat cop named Renee Montoya for company. She considered herself a very calm, composed person. She was a grown woman now, college-bound, and she wouldn’t have thought she’d be rattled by a threat against her family—or, more properly, the commissioner’s family. But hour after hour, she grew tense. It was even getting to Renee, who was looking at Barbara like she was playing loud music in the middle of church or something.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” she asked. “There’s no point in staying up.”

“Can’t sleep,” Barbara replied.

“Then at least lie down. You’re making me nervous, pacing around like a Chihuahua that needs to pee… lie down,” Renee reiterated, in a voice that said she meant it.

Sighing, Barbara stripped her bra out from under her shirt and laid down on the bed, thankful that her shorts were small enough for her to lounge comfortably in. She didn’t feel like pulling the sheets over herself or doing anything to mollify Renee too much. “There,” she said under her breath, not able to stop herself from saying it, but not wanting to be so petulant as for Renee to hear it.

She didn’t count on how sharp-eared the beat cop was.

“Don’t be sour,” Renee said, getting up from her chair and going to the head of Barbara’s cot. “Re-lax. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“I know. That’s what’s so boring.” Barbara met Renee’s eyes. “Aren’t you bored? You should be out there, doing cop things. Dad could just give me a gun, I can take care of myself…”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds responsible.” Renee reached out and started petting Barbara’s hair as she laid back on the pillow. “Wait until morning. Then join the NRA.”

As frustrating as it was to be treated like a child, Barbara was a little relieved to have someone caring at her. This was probably the most affection she’d gotten all year, with Mom gone and Daddy at work all the time.

Barbara closed her eyes and let herself enjoy Renee’s smooth touch as it rubbed circles into her brow. It felt very natural when those soothing things slipped along her cheeks and onto her neck, her shoulders, kneading away the tension there too.

“Madre de Dios, your belly’s all knotted up,” Renee said. Her hands were there all of a sudden, applying gentle pressure to the rigid muscles until they lost their tension. Barbara flinched a little, not used to be touched so intimately by anyone, much less a woman, and not sure how to feel about it. She was very aware of not wearing much as she laid on her back like a sumptuous feast laid out for Renee. But that was stupid—Renee was just trying to make her feel better.

And that much was true. But at the same time, Renee was very aware of how beautiful the police commissioner’s daughter was. With Barbara closing her eyes, Renee was free to look as closely as she wanted at Barbara’s flesh, from the tight white T-shirt that held her otherwise bare breasts to the short pants that slung so low as to expose a swath of skin on Barbara’s lower belly, just inches below where Renee was massaging. At its lowest point, the bare flesh showed the first curling traces of cinnamon-red pubic hair. Renee desperately wanted to push her hands lower and feel just how much more hair Barbara Gordon had grown to go with that magnificent mane on top of her smart little head.

But she wouldn’t just grope Barbara. Instead, she let her hands glide up Barbara’s sleek waist, smoothing the flats of her palms along Barbara’s rib cage. Pulling up the heels of her hands and her palms and her fingers as she stroked upwards, Renee let only her fingertips stay in contact with Barbara’s body as they moved higher and higher, until finally her soothing sweeps were touching the base of Barbara’s cleavage. Lightly at first, but after a few moments, her fingertips were trailing all the way over Barbara’s firm breasts, the pads of her fingers even running over Barbara’s nipples.

Barbara’s breath shot sharply into her lungs for a long moment, then she let it out with a little tremble. She wondered drowsily what Renee was doing, and if she should stop her—and why it felt so good. What harm can it do? Barbara thought finally, taking the pleasure she felt in her fondled breasts as just another part of the relaxing massage that Renee was giving her.

She didn’t say anything, barely seemed to notice, as Renee began openly rubbing her swelling breasts, squeezing them, digging her fingers into them. It wasn’t until Renee pinched and twisted her throbbingly hard nipples that Barbara looked up at her in sudden realization.

“Oh!” she gasped, her breath catching once more as she caught the sultry look in Renee’s eyes. “You’re…”

“Shhh,” Renee said gently, her hands now lightly roving over Barbara’s shoulders, leaving her nothing to worry about. 

Barbara closed her eyes again. She thought about how Renee’s hands had felt. Then she arched her back. Renee’s knowing hands slipped back down to her breasts, but Barbara was past caring. A loving warmth suffused all of her, heating her flesh to a boil she knew would only bring pleasure. Her cunt felt like it was glowing, and she parted her legs unthinkingly, hoping only that Renee’s touch would feel as good there as it had on her breasts.

Renee looked down at Barbara’s flawless young body with rising excitement. It was time to take a chance, even if it meant risking the commissioner’s daughter freaking out on her. The prospect of making love to a beautiful redheaded virgin was too good to pass up. Her hands wandered down Barbara’s softly rounded breasts, her trembling belly, and finally under the waistband of her shorts, where the curling pubic hairs were waiting to meet her touch with their own damp heat.

Barbara’s breath stormed out of her lungs. Paradoxically, Renee found herself holding her breath. Would Barbara make her stop? Even if she didn’t outright get her fired or even prosecuted, having to stop touching Barbara felt like a barbaric punishment on its own.

Barbara’s hands rose up, as if reaching to seize Renee’s wrists, but all she did was unbutton her shorts and unzip the fly.

Renee smiled victoriously. Whoever it was that had made the threat against the Gordons, she hoped that never caught the guy.