Knock Knock update

As beautiful as she was, she didn’t have the same purity as Diana, despite both women having gotten just as debauched last night. Somehow, despite all that, Zatanna came across as wanton, a vixen, though not at all whorish. It wasn’t that she wasn’t classy, just that Diana was like a paradigm of classiness, an eleven out of ten, and Zatanna just couldn’t compare, at least not in that category.

Peter padded naked to the bed, trying to control his excitement as it rushed his breathing. There certainly was a comparison between Diana’s fine ass and the lovely sight of Zatanna lying on her side, her smooth back and supple buttocks turned to him, the part of her asscheeks deep and soft. They were equally beautiful, or at least so evenly matched that their sex appeal was a constant tug of war with no clear winner. 

Peter wondered if Zatanna was asleep or simply lying down, enjoying the warm, soft bed of a day off until her bladder compelled her to get up. He went slowly, not wanting to wake her if it was the former. And if it was, he thought he could wake her up very pleasantly indeed. 

Zatanna turned in her sleep, flopping onto her back with an irresistible ripple going through her lovingly sculpted curves. That was it. Awake or asleep, he had to have her.

Peter crawled carefully onto the bed, his stiffening cock leading the way. With every inch he moved closer to Zatanna, he became more aware of how perfect her flesh was, so smooth, so creamy, even smelling sweet and fragrant. He reached out and touched her dark hair, lying like melted chocolate across her pillow—then ran his fingertips down her shoulder to her waist, her beautifully formed hips and delectable thigh, both toned and voluptuous. Still, Zatanna didn’t move, sleeping soundly the way a woman only could after having been well satisfied.

Peter started at her ear, licking gently over the lobe, then planting a kiss on her neck. Zatanna’s breathing hitched—she moaned in her sleep—both responsive to his touch and far from waking, so subtle were his attentions. 

Peter kept his butterfly-light kisses going down the same path his fingers had just taken. When he kissed her broad hip, he felt a quick, reflexive jerk of her thigh muscles. Just as quickly, his hand moved to cover her thigh, as if to silence the overexcited sinew. Then his fingers curled around her legs, stroking along the crease between her thigh and pubis. The silken hair of her thatch was surprisingly clean considering all that had happened before she’d gone to sleep—even there, Zatanna smelt pure and feminine. Peter wondered if it was magic. And, correspondingly, if Diana’s morning sweetness was sheer divinity.

Zatanna sighed, spreading her legs, arching her hips slightly, as though offering her awakening mound to his lips. Then, just as quickly, she twisted around, onto her side, her plump buttocks now practically up in the air with their voluptuousness on display. Peter could only take that as a sign. Who knew, maybe it was magic?

He gently parted her supple buttocks—they spread so perfectly that they seemed to melt more than splay. Between them, he found the dark recess of her asshole. To eye and nose, it seemed just as sweet and cleanly as the rest of her. 

Peter reached out with his tongue, using the tip to draw a serpentine trail around the puckered sphincter. Although the pink flesh was tart, the sweat and the taste of Zatanna’s surrounding flesh was delicious—an appealing contrast. Peter could only enjoy her flavor, her warmth, the scent of her that ran between her thigh gap to gently broadcast her arousal. 

His pointed tongue explored the quivering opening. It yielded only slightly, allowing his tongue a fraction of an inch inside. Peter ran his tongue in a circle, rimming her, bathing the orifice in his saliva. Zatanna’s buttocks clenched and unclenched, their firm flesh seeming to roil in Peter’s groping hands.

Peter didn’t dare to penetrate her too deeply, too greedily, causing pain that might spoil her awakening. Instead, he tickled her anus with his index finger as he pushed his head between Zatanna’s creamy thighs, getting to her excited pussy. He tasted her juices immediately, the flavor flooding his mouth with the essence of her arousal. Damn it, but she was so hot, so ready. It made Peter feel gracious as hell to be able to meet her needs the moment she woke up. And with Zatanna letting out a pleased moan in her sleep, it could be that she wouldn’t wake up until her climax.

***

Zatanna was in a dream world of her own, wrapped in the lean, muscular arms of a lover she had never met, one of the superheroes of this world, the Spider-Man whose taut physique reminded her so much of Peter. She doubted, though, that Spider-Man had a cock as big or as knowledgeable as Peter’s, which seemed unfair, considering all the arachnid had done for the city. 

But she couldn’t gainsay how Peter had used his blessing. In her dream, Spider-Man seemed just as well-endowed. Zatanna’s mind flittered to a thought of the two men teaming up on her slutty little body the way she and Diana had Peter—possibly the only erotic dream that could compete with her real life. 

But the dream’s logic refused to follow her own. For as much control as Zatanna had over the mystical realm, her dreams always did what they pleased—as willful and obstinate as Zatanna herself. She would just have to content herself with the pleasant fire in her sex, the warm glow in her clit. 

Streams of her arousal washed through her channel, preparing her for Spider-Man to share his blessing, and she felt something gently probing her ass. It was absolutely naughty, but given how Zatanna so often covered her cheeks with little more than a thong and fishnet stockings, she couldn’t blame anyone for taking an interest, let alone her own subconscious.

Maybe this is my psyche’s way of telling me I should let Peter in through the backdoor, Zatanna considered. Way ahead of you, psyche.

It was the most sensual dream she could remember, thrilling and relaxing all at once. Zatanna felt it ending, collapsing under the growing weight of the real world, but she fought against her waking, trying to stay in this fantasy world with her phantom lover, yet inexorably being tempted away from it.

***

Peter pulled his ravenous mouth from Zatanna’s steamy cunt, then carefully drew his finger from the hot pressure of her anus. The remainder of Zatanna’s awakening would be one smooth ride; already he could hear her yawning. He shifted his position, pressing himself against her back, aligning his throbbing cockhead with her plush buttocks. This was going to be heaven after being deprived of the comfort of Diana’s seething pussy. He found the opening of her sex, flexed his legs, and surged his way into the wetness of her cunt.

Zatanna cried out, feeling her excited womanhood being spread and entered all over again, bringing back the orgiastic loveliness of last night. She was coming awake, her reality running right alongside her dream—she moaned and lifted her upper leg as if to show off her trademark fishnets (not that her legs needed them), hoisting it up in the air like a cheerleader doing splits to allow Peter to go as deep into her as he wanted.

“Oh, yes, Spider-Man, fuck me like you mean it!” she cooed—in his aroused state, Peter for once didn’t notice a trifling neurosis like one of his identities being mistaken for the other. Listening to Zatanna’s excited gasps seemed far more important.