Arkham Bait

“Alright, Robbie, ya got me,” Harley said, holding her hands up as Tim aimed the end of his bo staff at her painted face. “But can’t ya think of anything better to point at me than some dumb stick?”

Tim didn’t move the staff an inch. “You’re going back to Arkham, Harley. Come quietly for once. The big guy isn’t around to sling you over his shoulder; if you cause trouble, you’re getting dragged there. Eyes closed.”

“You’re really that eager to see in one of those fashion disaster orange jumpsuits?” Harley reached under the white baubles of her neckpiece, up to the collar of her catsuit.

“Hold it!” Tim told her, jerking the staff closer to her face, as if he wanted her to kiss its tip.

“Easy, boy toy—if you wanna see me in prison clothes so bad, I gotta take this off, don’t I?” 

And Harley wiggled the skintight catsuit down her body, undulating back and forth as she worked it over her proud breasts, her lean stomach, her nubile hips. Her nubile flesh was all bounces and jiggles when she skimmed it down her long legs and stepped out of there. There she stood, wearing little more than her jester’s cap, her domino mask, and the white greasepaint. Two stockings, one red, one black, ran up her slender legs, as if highlighting the bare pussy that climaxed their ascent. 

Harley crossed her hands behind her back and popped one foot coquettishly, biting her lip, giving an openly admiring stare at the bulge in Tim’s costume. “Well hello, Robbie. I guess that’s two staffs you’ve got pointed at me now, huh? Why don’t you drop that one and take that one out? I’d much rather play with it…”

“Put your clothes back on,” Tim told her.

Harley held up her hand and three fingers. “Girl Scouts’ honor, bird boy! Everybody knows I’m a crazy slut who loves cum—you bats really know where every drop of mud in this city comes from, but not that? So all I want that cock for is a nice hard fuck. And after, you let me go. How’s that sound?”

“You’re a criminal.” But Tim’s voice cracked. He could feel how his burgeoning erection pressed against the codpiece of his costume. He was far more aware of it than Harley could ever be.

“I’m a bad girl, sure, but dontcha like bad girls? I promise I’ll be good to your cock. C’mon, Robbie, give that thing some air. Wash my dirty cunt off with some nice hot cum. Give Red something to taste next time she’s eating clam—”

As serious and duty-bound and responsible as Tim was, there was no denying the sight of Harley naked. Her jutting breasts stood swollen and ready. The white baubles on her neckpiece hung down to caress her cleavage, both the outer slopes and the inner valley. Her brown snatch—and somehow, Harley not being a natural blonde made her bimbo act even hotter—gleamed with dampness.

His teeth gritted so hard it seemed like one of the glass lenses in his mask would crack, Tim reached to the hidden zipper in his trunks and jerked it down. His erect cock shot loose.

Harley’s jaw dropped when she saw it, lighting up her face paint’s chiaroscuro with the vivid red of her mouth. Was he bigger than Batman? He had to be—she couldn’t imagine anyone being even bigger than that. “Oh my Gawd,” she gasped. “Yer huge!”

That was the wrong thing to say to settle Tim down. “And you’re wet,” he replied tersely, going to her, taking her slim body in his strong arms, and kissing her as powerfully as that big cock could fuck her. It was heated and ready, big and thick between her slender thighs. She squeezed her legs together, giving it a thrill of tightness. 

“So hot and niceeeee,” Harley moaned, her aroused voice trailing off dreamily. “Gonna fuck me with that, big boy? Or just let me dream about it?”

“Sure you can take it?” Tim goaded her, rubbing his cockhead along the lips of her sex, massaging the petals of her cunt, the stiffness of her clit with his dripping precum.

“Fuck, Robbie, no way I can take that thing—I’m only five foot five! But I’m gonna have a lot of fun getting my poor pussy ruined. G’wan, boy wonder. Make me earn you lookin’ the other way. Maybe you can spank my hot ass a little and we can call that time served!”