Help Wanted update

Gwen was joining her for this one, not liking how the job in Gotham had nearly gone south thanks to Batgirl. Felicia didn’t know what the big deal was. She slept with people on half the jobs she pulled. Why did they think she wore a catsuit with the zipper halfway down her ribs?

“This Peter’s a scientist,” Gwen said, “but he’s been taken hostage by Ra’s al Ghul’s forces to build some kind of doomsday machine.”

“Good,” Felicia said. “Then he shouldn’t mind coming with us.” Then she smiled. The last Peter hadn’t minded coming with them either; she had come with him too.

Gwen didn’t have that much of a sense of humor about it. “What’s your plan for getting in? He’ll be heavily guarded… they’re expecting their universe’s Batman to try to extract him.”

“Sure, sure… but I have something Batman doesn’t.”

***

Not for the daughter of Ra’s al Ghul the usual criminal hide-outs—the abandoned factories, the empty warehouses, the fire-damaged tenements. While in New York, Talia and her men stayed in an entire floor of a luxury hotel, the chain’s owners loyal to Ra’s, from fear or awe, perhaps both. Peter Parker… this Peter Parker… was given an entire room to work on the calculations for the machine that was being built a world away, under the watchful eye of Ra’s himself. Here, Talia gave him the same scrutiny.

“Hovering isn’t helping,” Peter told her. The lab coat he’d been abducted in was scuffed and worn from the transit, but he refused to wear any of the fresh clothes they provided him. The white lab coat gave him some small self-assurance.

“If I do not hover, how can I be assured you are truly doing your work?” Talia gave him a viper’s smile. “It would’ve been so much easier if you had just taken the money. Greed can be trusted. Stubbornness cannot.”

“My money wouldn’t be much good with half the world underwater.”

“Half the world is already underwater, Dr. Parker. More than half.”

“You know what I mean.”

The intercom buzzed. Shooting a cautioning look to Peter, Talia traveled to the intercom, sidearm drawn from her white gunbelt. Given her tight catsuit, and what it held so lovingly, Peter was tempted to watch her make that trip.

She pressed the butt of her gun onto the call button. “Yes, Vassir? What is it?”

“Apologies for the interruption, mistress. But we have an intruder.”

“How could we have an intruder? The concierge was told this floor would be off-limits.”

“She insisted very strongly in the lobby. People were growing suspicious. She seemed to think someone known to her was hiding in a room here. It was agreed to take her up to show her that the floor is simply being worked on.”

“And when she sees there is no real work being done?”

“You may deal with her at your leisure, mistress.”

Talia sighed—her underling, instead of resolving the situation with any amount of subtlety, had practically forced her into killing this poor woman. Ra’s trained his men to be far too bloodthirsty. “What is the name of the man she seeks?”

“Peter Parker.”

Talia cursed under her breath, then turned to aim her weapon at Peter. “Have you told anyone where you are?”

“How could I?” Peter insisted, raising his hands. “You took my phone, all my—“

“Have you sent a message?” Talia cocked the pistol. “If you have, you simply guarantee this woman’s death…”

“I don’t know any woman! Look at me, do I look like I know any woman?”

Growling to herself, Talia jabbed the intercom button once more. “Bring her here. But carefully. It may be a trick.”

“Yes, mistress.”

Talia strolled over to Peter—a sway in her hips—to sit in a nearby stool. Her gun she held in her lap. “Whether this woman dies in front of you could depend a great deal on your actions,” she said.”

In short order, Talia’s man and the captured intruder had arrived in the elevator. Talia lowered the gun between her thighs, out of sight, and the woman was brought into the apartment, her hands bound in plasticuffs.

Peter’s breath could’ve shot out of his body. She wore leather pants, black leather, that hugged her long legs and voluptuous buttocks like a second skin. Then, on her upper body, she had sleeves, the shoulders of a shirt, a collar, and the back of a shirt… but in the front, it was two strips of fabric, one covering her breasts, the other stretching across the hem to hold the halved shirt together. The arrangement exposed wide swathes of her tanned skin, and the tops of her prodigious breasts.

“Peter, there you are!” Felicia Hardy cried, jerking against Vassir’s restraining hands to pedal toward him. The movement sent ripples up and down her body that were only apparent in her large, barely restrained breasts. “What are you doing her? Who is this woman you’re with, goddamnit?”

“You know her?” Talia asked Peter, studiously ignoring Felicia’s words.

“Know me! I’m his girlfriend, who the fuck are you?” Felicia cried.

Surprised, Peter twisted to look at her—in the eyes, this time. And he caught her making a quick wink.

“You just said you don’t know any women,” Talia said suspiciously. Behind Felicia, Vassir drew a length of piano wire. 

“Of course I know women!” Peter said quickly. “I just mean, I don’t… as a rule… it’s an online thing, I wasn’t expecting her here… in New York…”

“Then you two are intimate?” Talia asked.

“Absolutely!” Felicia said over whatever Peter even thought of saying. “Though that may change depending on what the hell he’s doing here with some strange woman in a leather catsuit like some kind of—“

Vassir slapped her upside the head. “You will show respect to the Demon’s Daughter!”

“Oww! The Demon’s Daughter? What is that, some rock band? Peter, what is going on?”

“Mr. Parker is doing some contract work for us,” Talia said rapidly. “Very private. Very secretive.”

“Well, that’s great!” Felicia said, rubbing the back of her head. “That still doesn’t mean this gorilla had to slap me…”

“We worry about… corporate espionage.” Talia spoke with an air of apology, even if one wasn’t evident. “Vassir, release her, then leave us.”

“Is that wise, mistress?”

“It is my word,” Talia said firmly.

Taking a knife from his pocket, Vassir cut Felicia loose, then left the room.

“You will prove to me that the two of you are intimate,” Talia said. “Woman, go to him. Perform.” 

“How?” Felicia asked.

Talia reached down, jerking a whip out of the top of her boot, and landed a stinging blow across Felicia’s face, opening up a small cut on her cheek. Peter bolted to his feet, but Felicia cracked the whip at him, making him take a step back.

The lick of the lather made Felicia cringe a little, but it also did things to her pussy that she had learned to love. Her cunt churned and tightened, knowing that the best was on its way.

“Fuck her,” Talia said to Peter. “Like you have so many times before.”

“Hey!” Peter cried. “You can’t just have us—can’t just sit and watch while we…”

“Peter, I think we should just go along with it,” Felicia said. “Just do as she says.”

Peter hesitantly approached Felicia. He swallowed hard, looking into her green eyes. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever met, perhaps ever seen. But more than that, she glowed, radiating a sexuality that was almost frightening in its intensity. Surely, even if he met some sexpot celebrity, Kate Upton or Charlotte McKinney, she wouldn’t be so willing, so hot. 

Felicia didn’t move as he approached. At the last moment, she turned her back to him, arching it to shove out her ass. Her hands came behind her back and beckoned him on. She wanted to be fucked in this position, standing up. To Peter, for whom sex at all was something of a novelty, that seemed even more outlandishly sensual than her appearance in the first place.

“Who the hell are you?” he whispered in her ear as he bent to pull her pants down. She wore no panties, and that alone jogged his reluctant erection into almost painful hardness. 

“Who cares?” Felicia replied in her own whisper. “Just play along. That can’t be too hard, can it?”

Her shirt dangled over her perky, smoothly curving ass. He pulled it up and out of the way and the unveiled sight was far more than any man could’ve endured. He had to unzip himself just to avoid injury.

“Now, Dr. Parker,” Talia purred, “what is it she likes? What is it your girlfriend here enjoys having done to her?”

As a scientist, Peter was obviously no dummy. He was also, unlike quite a few Peter Parkers, something of a pervert. And, choosing between doing the noble thing and taking advantage of what was obviously a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity… perhaps a last-in-a-lifetime opportunity… the noble thing didn’t stand a chance.

“She’s into bondage,” Peter said. “Being spanked, tied up, all that stuff. She probably loves having you standing there with a whip.”

“Is that so?” Talia trilled. “Demonstrate. And if she doesn’t love it, I’ll know.”

Lucky bastard, Felicia thought. Either lucky or really damn perceptive. For her, a sensual Indian woman standing around in a leather catsuit with a whip-handle tapping against her privates was far from a moment-killer. 

Peter gripped her slender wrists and pulled her arms back. She moaned and shoved her ass backwards in wanton invitation, as if aroused by being restrained, in pain. He didn’t understand how that could be, but it seemed impossible to turn her down.

“Fuck her!” Talia said. “Now! Don’t hesitate, give it to her!”

The whip lashed across Felicia’s breasts, sending an intense pain deep into her torso. She felt her nipples hardening with lust when Peter pulled her arms straight back. The way she shoved her ass into his groin was designed to open her sex up to him, and it did. She felt his cock moving up from under her wide-spread labia. Glancing down, she saw it homing in on her folds. Trembling at the mere touch of his cock against her super-heated sex, Felicia cried out when he sank into her cunt.

“Fuck me!” she sobbed. “Give it all to me! Fuck me till I burn up inside! I need it!”

“Silence!” Talia screamed, using the whip liberally on Felicia’s heaving belly. The cat burglar was soon crisscrossed with the fiery red welts from the whip. 

Bent forward as she was, her ass pressing into Peter’s crotch, Talia had a perfect shot at her body. With her arms pulled back on either side of her body, the flesh of her breasts tightened and made every impact of the whip more telling.

Felicia felt her body filling with pain even as the delight of Peter’s prick reamed her out. She loved the feel of that cock hot and hard inside her cunt, no matter the dimension. It made her walls strain to stretch enough. The very nerve endings inside her sang out as Peter rammed in deeper. When he really buried himself inside her, his balls wetly slapped against her splayed pussy, an extra treat.

All this joy was intermixed with the pain Talia’s whip delivered. She whipped Felicia with a vigorous melody now, never breaking the skin but always inflicting pain. Felicia knew Talia was too good to permanently mark her—she wouldn’t lower the quality of a possession that way—but like a good dominatrix, Talia would give her pain during the very time she was experiencing the most intense pleasures a human could feel.

So Felicia came. And what would’ve confused her would be figuring out if it was the prick beginning to fuck her with slow, sensuous movements or the whip screaming into her body with raw, heated pain.

Only it didn’t confuse her. Felicia didn’t care.

She moaned, both pain and wonder filling her totally. Her breasts were almost raw from the whip. Talia was capable of anything—if she didn’t get the pleasure she demanded. “Fuck me, ohhh God, Peter, God! Fuck me good! Give it all to my poor little pussy!”

The scientist pulled back harder on her arms until she thought she was going to break down the middle. He needed the pressure on her arms for the leverage it gave him. He couldn’t get enough otherwise to really fuck her cunt. And he thought—he knew that she liked it.

His cock speared deeper and deeper into Felicia until she felt the familiar sexual tensions about to break inside her. When she came again, she knew it was strictly from Peter. It felt absolutely like what he did to her. Her cunt was sopping wet, drenching his manhood, and he had to fuck faster to give her the divine friction she needed. So he fucked faster.

He was actually managing to give her what she needed when the whip landed across his clenching buttocks. He jerked into her harder than ever before. 

Felicia loved the spasmodic penetration. The pain was leaving her own body, driven out by the wonderful feeling of his prick. It left her ultra-sensitive, airy and weightless to be tossed around by the gales of satisfaction Peter blew into her. And Talia flailed wildly at Peter’s ass, making sure that he gave Felicia all the fucking that she could have wanted.

Peter drilled harder into Felicia’s cunt, then twisted around a little. She felt his cock jolt every time the whip landed on his ass. The pain shot through into her body, still so intense that she came and came and came. She couldn’t hold it any longer; knowing that Peter was being whipped excited her. Feeling his body react with every whipcrack built up her own passions until she was lost in a constant orgasm.

“Mooooooore!” she moaned out. “Give it all to me! Fuck me good, fuck me hard, fuck meeee!”

The sound of leather against bare flesh came to her ears. It was music. She had to have more. Bending forward, thrusting her arms back until her shoulders threatened to break, she got even more of his cock up her cunt. She came again. She couldn’t stop herself now. The tremors passing through her were like quakes from a tectonic shift deep inside her—an earthquake from Peter’s cock in her pussy, and it was cracking her wide open.

The suddenness of Talia’s whip lashing across her labia brought her off more intensely than she had ever come before. She thought the top of her head would blow off. And when Talia landed her leather whip between Peter’s legs, her cunt surged with the impact of hot cum. He seemed to shoot it out with the power of a firehose.

Both of them were wracked with the intensity of their climaxes. And when Peter began to go flaccid, she was actually sated. She was emotionally and physically drained, thanks to the whipping. Talia had done the very thing necessary to satisfy them beyond their bodies’ wildest expectations.

“God, I didn’t think I could do it,” Peter said, his body heaving in sweaty exertion. “And look, that bitch actually got off on it!”

A damp spot spread out in the leather between Talia’s legs. She’d come while watching them fuck, while she was whipping them both.

“So?” Felicia asked, not really caring.

“I’m satisfied,” Talia said. Then, after a bluish pause. “That she is who she says she is. The two of you fuck like you were born to. Vassir!”

The big man cracked open the apartment door, giving Peter a start as he wondered just how long the henchman had been waiting for his cue. “Yes, mistress?”

“Give our new guest her own quarters. She’s not married, after all. But, if Dr. Parker is good and continues his work for us, I’m sure we can arrange another reunion.” Talia tittered to herself as she coiled up her whip again. “Perhaps the Cat is onto something. This is quite the useful implement.”

***

No sooner had Felicia been taken to her room than she’d gone to the dresser, ripped it open, and thrown on pants and a shirt—provided complimentary by the hotel, with little chain logos on the hip and breast. It was better than nothing. Anything was stealthier than a nudist.

Next, she picked the lock on her window. They weren’t supposed to open, but that didn’t mean they didn’t. And the ledge wasn’t supposed to hold a grown woman’s weight, but same story. She crept along to the main apartment where Peter was being held. Talia had left to attend to her clothing. Which meant Vassir was playing guard dog. 

Felicia stood next to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the ceiling, concealed safely by the interior wall between one room and the next. She slapped her palm against the window, then pressed her ear to the glass. She could hear some mumbling—“What was that?” “Probably just a bird.”—but no action. She slapped the glass again.

Now she heard footsteps, heavy and hard. Vassir and those nice, big boots of his. Felicia waited until he stopped, pressing his forehead to the window to look out and see if anything was suspicious out there.

Felicia used her elbow. Cracked the glass. And his head.

Peter was good enough to drag Vassir’s body out of the way as Felicia cleared some more glass and pulled herself inside. He even offered her his hand.

“Ready to go?”

“Go where?” Peter demanded. “Who are you? What the hell is this?”

“It’s a very long story,” Felicia said. “But I want to take you someplace safe. Someplace where you can be with me.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“Do you have much of a choice?” Felicia asked, just before the Batarang rebounded off her head.

Felicia dropped, out cold.

“Dr. Peter Parker?” Batgirl asked, sweeping in through the same smashed window Felicia had come through.

“Y-yes?”

“I’m getting you out. Let’s move.”

“But what about…” Peter gestured vaguely to Felicia. “My, uh… girl… friend?”

Barbara had researched Peter Parker extensively. There’d been nothing online about a girlfriend. “Stockholm Syndrome. Great.” She reached into her utility belt. A dose of sodium anathol would keep him nice and quiet on the elevator ride down…

***

Being knocked out cold didn’t work like in the movies, where a tap on the head put you out for hours and then it was like you’d had a good night’s sleep. Either you woke up in a few minutes like a football player who’d taken a bad sack and walked it off, or you had a concussion and maybe didn’t wake up at all. Felicia was the former. After all, a Black Cat was only unlucky to others.

Groggily, she triggered her comlink. The only way for someone else to find it would be to spend a few hours playing with her hair, which would be nice enough to be worth it. “Gwen, it’s Hardy. Guess who just showed up again? Batgirl Returns…”

Gwen huffed a sigh. “I knew you should’ve let me go in two. Alright, I’ll get him.”

Felicia would’ve argued, but Vassir started to stir, pebbles of broken safety glass shifting on his body. She was quick to disappear out the hole in the window.

***

Peter haphazardly came to in the elevator. Batgirl was supporting him on a well-muscled shoulder and the floor indicator was steadily ticking down. 

Batgirl noticed him stirring. “Easy there, citizen. The cops’ll be here in a jiffy.”

“No, you don’t understand, the girl back there—“

“Probably working for al Ghul. You’ll get over her. Plenty of fish in the sea and all that…”

The elevator stopped suddenly. Batgirl pushed Peter off her, onto the handrail, and faced the doors.

Before they could open, Gwen’s fist came down through the elevator’s maintenance access, slamming Batgirl on the top of the head. Right between the horns. She went down hard. 

“Felicia?” Peter asked as Gwen came down.

“Oh, I wish I could be mistaken for her while wearing a skintight outfit and a full-face mask.” Peter swayed, stumbling, and Gwen rushed to catch him. “But I think you’re just a little loopy still. Don’t worry, you’ll see her again soon. And a redhead. You like redheads?”

It was then that the elevator doors slid open. Talia and her men aimed a vast myriad of weaponry into the car.

“Hi there,” Gwen said.

Talia’s eyes traveled from the downed Batgirl to Gwen, who held up the arm that wasn’t supporting Peter.

“Who are you?” she asked coolly.

“Gwen.”

“And who is Gwen?”

“The woman who just returned your investment.” With the arm wrapped around Peter, Gwen gave him a squeeze.

“And… and I was so close to getting away, too!” Peter cursed. “Dagnabbit.” 

Talia turned her head slightly so that her gaze could take in Vassir. “Incompetent one, is that the woman who attacked you?” She indicated Batgirl with her pistol.

“I do not know, mistress. It is possible.”

Gwen pushed Peter over to Talia, her bodyguards quickly catching and securing him. Then Gwen raised both hands nonthreateningly. “I thought maybe you could use an extra pair of hands,” Gwen said. “For the right price?”

“And what’s that?”

“For starters, some coastal real estate. Parker told me enough about your plan to know I’d rather be on your side than underwater.”

Talia shrugged. “You aren’t the first woman who’s come here claiming loyalty today. But at least she was fun.”

Gwen sputtered. Just because she wasn’t Party Hard or Marijuana Jane… “I can be fun!” she insisted, indignantly. 

Talia smiled. “You certainly look it.” She reached over to the other side of the elevator bank and pressed the call button. The cables droned as another elevator started on its way down. “Take Parker back up to the rooms,” she commanded her men. “I’ll deal with Gwen and the interloper myself.” 

She slid beside Gwen in the elevator with Batgirl in it, pressing her floor number. The doors slid shut as she raked her eyes over Gwen’s skintight costume.

It had potential.

***

Peter was thrown back into his bedroom to await Talia’s pleasure, whatever form that would take. The guards were so intent on safeguarding him that they immediately slammed the door shut behind him, locking and bolting it, then preparing their weapons to shoot down anyone who came near without authorization. Rounds chambered, safeties off.

So Felicia felt very smart for just hiding in his room while all that was going on and rolling out from under the bed when the door was locked.

“Hello again, Peter,” she said. “Gwen told me to ask you if they have Sliders in this universe?”

“What’s Sliders?” Peter asked.

“Okay then, Fringe?”

***

Barbara tried to blink away the cobwebs. “Wha… wha’s happenin’? What’s goin’ on?”

She felt a cool breeze over her body… silk sheets…her own red hair tickling and curling down the nape of her neck, down her back, almost like a teasing hand making its way to her ass.

Wait, how could she feel all that? Where was her costume? Where were her clothes?

“Don’t worry, Batgirl,” Talia said, standing over her. Panicking, Barbara felt at her face, and was only slightly relieved to find that her cowl had been left on. “I wouldn’t dream of scandalizing my beloved by taking your life. But you have taken action against me, and it has failed. There will be a penalty.”

Barbara looked around the room. She was in one of the bedrooms of the hotel, given the slightest hint of modesty by having the bedsheets thrown over her. And there was a costume with her and Talia, a meta from the looks of it—she had all the indicators of enhanced strength, increased speed, and from how vigilant she looked this late in the day, probably impressive stamina. The standard package.

“Go to her,” Talia ordered the woman. “Seduce her. I doubt my beloved would allow any of his allies to fraternize with each other. If you can go through with it, without the absolute sexlessness he prides himself on, I’ll know you can be trusted.”

***

Geez, broken record much? Gwen thought as she advanced on Barbara. Between her and Catwoman, this Bat guy definitely had a type.

“Relax,” Gwen said, crawling onto the bed. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to make you feel good.” She pulled her mask off, showing Barbara her lovely face, and she could see the redhead relax. Lick her lips nervously. “Let’s just kiss. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A nice, romantic kiss…”

She could see the hesitation in Barbara’s eyes, the uncertainty, then the inner argument. Wasn’t Gwen attractive? Didn’t Batman have all sorts of things going on with Catwoman, with Talia, with Ivy and Harley even? Would it really be so bad…

Barbara’s lips parted slightly, and maybe Gwen wasn’t Felicia, but that was still all she needed. She leaned in and captured Barbara’s mouth; almost before Barbara knew what was happening, her tongue responded and Gwen gave it a scintillating lick, drawing it into her own mouth, truly beginning the kiss. Barbara moaned into her mouth as Gwen kept it going, a series of small, perfect kisses, clashes of their tongues again and again, each time a little deeper, a little more intense, all the more so because there was nothing else. No hands on her body, no flesh pressed against hers, just Gwen kissing her, just Gwen’s lips, her own lips, their touch and their silent conversation.

Maybe… just this once…

***

Talia saw Gwen reach out, putting her right hand down beside Barbara’s head, in her flaming red hair fanned all across the pillow. She put her weight on it as she shifted over Barbara, kissing down into her, Barbara now totally thoughtless in her submission to her. Talia could see it all.

Almost all. She picked up the bedsheet, holding it up out of the way, and saw Barbara’s bare legs. They squirmed together as Gwen kissed her, her thighs winding and clenching, like they were trying to catch a grip on something that wasn’t there.

Something they needed to be there.

Barbara’s velvety thighs, her dewy cunt angling for a caressing hand that wouldn’t come, they were too tempting to Talia. She slid down on her belly across the mattress, sliding her hands beneath Barbara’s silken ass. Her eager tongue shot out, she bought her head down, and she mouthed across the fragrant temptations of Barbara’s sex. Wiggling her tongue into Barbara’s shivering cunt, Talia let her know who was boss.

Barbara’s hips arched up and out, her thighs trembled, she moaned her delight. Her mouth broke from Gwen’s lips and she sank back on the bed, her beautiful face flushed with ecstasy, eyes wide and unbelieving of her own lust.

“Talia!” she whimpered. Her hands clutching at Talia’s shoulders, Gwen distracting her with her left hand on Barbara’s breasts, feeling them, caressing them, bringing the nipples to hardness as if sharing her own desire directly with the redhead.

Talia stroked her tongue in Barbara’s alluring cunt, leaving her no peace on that end either. She was feasting on her very favorite dish, hands fastened to a velvety, yielding ass, her right middle finger toying with the sensitive anus.

Oh, this is living! Talia thought, sipping her reward from Barbara’s pussy, feeling the tremors of mounting joy. Gwen wants my prize too, but she’ll have to wait her turn. In fact, the first time she’ll taste this sweetness is when I shove my tongue down her throat!

Gwen had a brilliant idea. She was going to have to bring herself off again, just like with Felicia and MJ, but the opened position of Talia’s long, slender thighs as she devoured Barbara was all kinds of inspiration. She got up from the bed, going to its foot and dropping onto her back, sliding forward on the mattress until she was right beneath Talia’s spread cunt.

She gripped Talia’s hips, the Demon’s Daughter lowering her crotch, tipping her pelvis into a convenient position, her tremble of excitement urging Gwen on. She fastened her lips to the moistened top of Talia’s sex, feeling the stiffness of Talia’s burgeoning clit along the edge of her tongue. It was delicious.

Talia moaned into Barbara’s tasty cunt, her tongue working slowly and lingeringly. Gwen was catching on very fast, now. A daisy chain was just what she needed to wash away all the aggravation that Felicia witch had caused.

I didn’t even have to ask her to eat my cunt, she’s worshiping me as if she were born to the League! Talia thought. Maybe she’s come from Scandal’s camp—though how that shrew could let go of a girl with a tongue like this… But in her experience, girls just seemed to know how to eat pussy. It came naturally. But still, Gwen was good. She was really fucking good.

Gwen shot her right hand down to her burning cunt, leaving her left on Talia’s hip. She wouldn’t lift her crotch now, she was shaking and moaning, her clit was tensing for more and more. Her long, pretty legs were opening further, her ass was quivering, everything was happening so fast!

Opening her labia, Gwen eased her first two fingers into the eager space. No more hymen to worry about, not since Peter, she could fill herself with whatever was big enough! Ohh, yes! Not that anything was big enough after Peter. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not that she hadn’t tried. Ohhh, wow!

Barbara’s whimpers of delight increased Gwen’s excitement. She lapped up more of Talia’s honey, sliding her tongue inside her just a little further. But a sudden tip of Talia’s pelvis told Gwen what the villainess wanted, more than anything—a woman’s tongue knowing what a woman needed.

Gwen moved her mouth slightly, sliding her tongue across and around that luscious clit of hers. Talia’s deep moan, her shudder of joy, told it all. Gwen had found just where to touch her, just where all her sexual craving centered.

A sudden loud cry from Barbara, a shake of Talia’s body, quickened Gwen’s hand on her own eager cunt. The slide of her fingers in and out, in and out, with her thumb hitting her clit so fast, so hard, she couldn’t believe it didn’t hurt, what she was doing to her clit and how intense it felt and how good it felt, it always hurt with Peter when it got this intense, and she missed it, she missed the hurting, she missed feeling so good that it hurt.

“OHHH-NNNN!” Barbara cried fiercely. She was going off too, just like Gwen, just like her, with her.

A swift rise of Talia’s ass, breaking Gwen’s hold, breaking the wonderful kiss of her mouth and Talia’s cunt, almost startled Gwen. She squirmed around, turning the other way and seeing what she had expected. Talia was fucking Barbara to her finish. Talia was one of those girls that just had to move her pretty ass to enjoy herself, couldn’t just lie there and take it, had to fuck, had to have a cock or a cunt and it couldn’t be tongue, couldn’t be fingers, it had to be skin on skin, flesh against flesh. 

She was pressed up against Barbara, her sweet ass between Barbara’s thighs, rutting against her, fucking into her. Her almost-masculine hunches at Barbara’s cunt, her wail of delight, triggered all of Gwen’s need.

Gwen dropped flat on the bed beside Barbara, her thighs wide apart, and pumped three fingers juicily into her cunt. The thunder of it flashed up her shaking legs, her inner muscles twitched delectably, her clit began to pulse and her breasts curved one. She seized one in her left hand as her ass lifted higher. The sweet pound, pound, pound of her nearness rocked her insides.

“UGH, fuck!” Talia cried. It was like she was coming in Barbara’s cunt, breeding her. Barbara’s loud wail of culmination filled the room. Gwen thrashed her body on the mattress, legs kicking, as the honeyed throbs racked her thighs, her cunt, all of her.

A slow, dreamy spasming of her depths, a luscious tightening of the folds around her diving fingers, told her what she would have to have as soon as she found the next Peter—lots of big, tensing, plunging cock. Oh, girl parties were fun, they all got off, but she and MJ and Felicia had tried to have that without Peter, without any Peters, and it just wasn’t enough.

Talia finished her fuck, savoring the last sweet nuances of relief, and lifted her cunt from Barbara’s. She dropped down at Barbara’s right and looked over at Gwen.

“You made it as well?”

“Absolutely,” Gwen exclaimed. “When’s it going to my turn—mistress?”

“Soon, my sweet, soon,” Talia laughed, gazing at Gwen’s dripping cunt. “You’re very good with your tongue.”

“Can she…” Barbara started, then was surprised by her own flaming cheeks, her sense of abashment at enjoying some of this. She’d fucked a complete stranger and one of her worst enemies… shouldn’t she feel a little… something? Something that wasn’t… this? “Can she show me?”

“How about it, Gwen?” Talia asked. “Shall you show her yours if I show you mine?”

Gwen bit her lip at the thought. “Alright. But it has to be fast. I’m meeting someone soon. Back home.” That thought, she smiled at. “We’re having a party and we’ve invited a lot of guests.”