Bear's Beauties: Existential Crisis 63 (Patreon)

[center]<<Bear Sandosen>>[/center]

When I decided on staying behind after Cameron’s dance class, this wasn’t what I’d been planning on. But as I knelt in front of her, her lower body bared to me, I wasn’t particularly bothered by it.

I placed a hand on her hips and gently tugged, and she shifted forward slightly. Her thighs were already parted, leaving her bare pussy exposed to me. With a gentle push, I slid a finger inside her, causing her to groan softly and push herself into my touch. Smiling, I leaned forward and licked her slit. Cameron shuddered, letting out a low moan as I did. I kept licking, exploring every inch of her pussy, tracing along her folds and flicking her clit.

Cameron let out another low moan as I slipped a second finger into her, sliding them in and out as I kept working on her pussy. Her hips were moving against me, pushing her clit against my tongue, and her pussy was slick with her juices. I could tell that she was getting close, and, not wanting to leave her hanging, I slipped a third finger into her.

She came with a cry, her walls tightening around my fingers, and her juices flooding out over my hand, as well as soaking my face. When she finally stopped, panting, I carefully removed my fingers and looked up, giving her a grin, before leaning in and covering her mound with my mouth.

Her taste was something unique, not exactly sweet, but not unpleasant. I lapped at her folds, drinking up her juices as she shuddered and moaned, and when I sucked her clit into my mouth she cried out again. I kept going, using every trick I could think of to pleasure her, determined to show her just how much I cared, and I had no plans on stopping any time soon.

I lost track of time worshiping her, but eventually, her cries reached a crescendo and she came one final time. Her juices squirted into my mouth, and her legs tightened around my head. After a few seconds, her grip relaxed and she let out a deep sigh, her head lolling back.

Smiling, I slowly rose to my feet, before leaning in and giving her a kiss. One that she returned, her lips  warm and soft against my own. I cupped her cheek with one hand, my other sliding down her side to rest on her hip. Cameron sighed, her body relaxing into my touch.

When we finally separated, I pressed our foreheads together, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” Cameron whispered. “That was... wow…”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” I murmured, rubbing her back under her shirt.

What happened next took me by surprise: Cameron pushed me onto my back with a single shove, before she straddled my head, reaching down and pushing my shorts down. Her hands wrapped around my cock, and she leaned forward.

“I want to feel you flooding my mouth,” she said, moments before her tongue ran along my length.

Considering the position that we were in, I didn’t want to just lay there. So, with my hands on her firm, athletic ass, I resumed my own oral assault, doing my best to pleasure her even as her hands and mouth were doing the same to me.

Her mouth was hot and wet and amazing. She took me into her mouth, all the way to the base, and then swallowed around me. Then, she began bobbing her head, her hands moving to cup my balls, squeezing them lightly. It was enough to have me shuddering in pleasure, and her moans vibrating through my cock weren’t helping either.

I focused on returning the pleasure, eating her out with a fervor, trying to use everything I could to pleasure her, and apparently, I was successful.

The two of us pleasured each other, and it didn't take long before we were both coming, crying out as we climaxed simultaneously. Her release splashed over my face, and I felt her swallowing as she came, the contractions of her throat around my cock sending me over the edge. I came, flooding her mouth with my cum, and she eagerly drank it down.

Afterward, we lay there, catching our breath.

“Thank you,” Cameron whispered.

“You're welcome,” I replied.

It was a quiet moment. A comfortable one.

[center]<<Captain Faprag Crac’pastar>>[/center]

“Slave, how is the construction of the turian’s gift coming along?” I demanded of the ship’s armorer as I entered his laboratory.

“Smoothly, but I reiterate that making a bomb this powerful makes me very nervous. What manner of maniac designed a nuclear explosive with this kind of yield in the first place?” the elderly salarian asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” I responded. “Just make sure that it is ready and can be hidden for delivery soon.”

As I left, part of me couldn’t help but think about the slave’s question. While it was true, who originally designed a nuclear device ten times bigger than the Hegemony had ever used didn’t matter, I personally was of the opinion that only humans would be so insane to design something so recklessly destructive.

Still, I was already imagining the number of slave raids I’d be able to run with the reward for this job. Someone out there must really hate this turian Spectre, not that I could blame them. Turians were almost as bad as humans, but in a different way. They were far less valuable on the slave markets, what with how they needed specialized food.

Humans, much as they were a blight, were also a gift for the Hegemony. They were a perfect slave race, once properly broken. They were able to work in an amazing variety of environments, and could be fed damn near anything. Even krogan weren’t able to digest as wide a variety of foods that humans could.

I chuckled as I approached my cabin, thinking about the other reason that humans made for such a good slave race. The females were on par with asari, and much cheaper overall, but in my case, my particular slave was one that I’d captured on my first raid. Some backwater human colony called Midware, or something like that.

Entering the cabin, the slave in question kept her gaze firmly on the floor, where it belonged. Her head fur was a bright shade of red, which matched her slave markings perfectly. I had to admit, she was an excellent slave, the training she had received immediately following her capture had given her a good grounding in what she needed to do to please a master, and the punishments that I had inflicted during her training had reinforced those behaviors.

Kneeling before me, she kept her eyes averted, knowing better than to look at me without permission. I reached out and gently ran my fingers through her hair. She kept still, knowing better than to move.

“Slave, I have need of you,” I said.

“How may I serve, Master?”

I smiled. She was an obedient slave, and her voice was beautiful.

“Remove my clothing.”

“Yes, Master.”

She moved quickly, and I allowed myself to enjoy the sight of her naked form as she obeyed. Her skin was soft, and her body was well-proportioned. It was a shame that human breasts weren't as large as asari, or as sensitive, but they seemed to fit on her frame much better.

Once my clothing was removed, she moved back into position, kneeling in front of me, her eyes averted. I walked past her, to my desk and sat down in the chair, pulling up the data that had come with the job. The slave knew her role, crawling under the desk and taking my member into her mouth. I groaned softly as her tongue flicked across the head of my cock, and when her hand began to stroke the base, I leaned back in the chair, allowing her to do her work.

While she did her best to pleasure me, I went through the information, considering the best way to get the weapon to the target. A thought occurred, and I opened a comm line to the ship's pilot.

“What do you need, Captain?”

“How many shuttles do we have?”

“Let me check,” the pilot said, the line cutting off.

While the pilot checked, I put my hand on the back of the slave’s head and forced her to take me to the root. As always, she choked and gagged as my length entered her throat, cutting off her airway. I’d long since mastered the trick of keeping my slave alive through her choking and gasping. She was so eager to serve me. To obey. Just like a slave should.

“We have three,” the pilot said as he returned to the line.

“Good,” I said, releasing just enough pressure on the slave’s head to let her breathe. “Prepare one and make it look like a standard smuggler’s shuttle. We will use it to deliver the weapon.”

“Yes, Captain,” the pilot replied, before the line cut again.

I was pleased, as the plan had a good chance of success. All we would have to do is track the target back to his base, and we would have our payday. One large enough to procure another two cruisers, turning my single ship into the beginnings of a proper privateer fleet.

The slave suddenly increased the intensity of her ministrations, and I grunted in pleasure as I came, filling her throat with my seed. She choked and sputtered, struggling to swallow my release, but she was well trained and managed.

I sat back, enjoying the afterglow of my orgasm, and considered my plans. It would be a good life.

[center]<<Diana Prince>>[/center]

I watched with amusement as Harley and Pamela whispered to each other like school children planning something they wanted to keep secret. I admit, in most circumstances being bound by my Lasso in the presence of two of Bruce’s Rogues’ Gallery would be a cause for concern. Being bound in shibari, with one of said Rogues blushing and stammering to the point I was starting to feel embarrassed, on the other hand?

Harley and Pamela continued to talk and, as they did, Pamela grew more confident. Harley, for her part, seemed to become increasingly aroused, if the way she was subtly rubbing her thighs together was any indication. Eventually, the two seemed to reach some sort of agreement, and turned to face me.

“So, Wondy,” Harley said as the two walked up, crawling onto the bed on either side of me. “Imma thinkin’ next time we do this, I should tie ya up an’ set ya on the dinner table, so Fuzzy can plop his cock between yer tits. Or maybe feed ya one o’ the coven girls’ milk potions, and set ya on the wall by the coffee maker.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, and she pouted lightly, before she and Pamela began to lightly run their fingers over my bare skin. They avoided the obvious places, my breasts, womanhood, and the like, instead focusing on the parts that were tied and bound.

Their touch was gentle, and they occasionally stopped, their hands exploring the ropework.

After a moment, they began to shift their touch, moving to the places that I wanted to be touched. Their fingers teased and pinched, and I found myself panting slightly as they did. My nipples were rock hard, and they were playing with them, rolling and tweaking the little nubs, making me moan and squirm.

One of Pamela's hands moved down, sliding over my stomach, and then lower, until she was lightly tracing the edges of my folds. Harley smirked at me, leaning in, and her voice was low and husky as she said, “You're soaked, Wondy.”

I shuddered, feeling a flush of heat rising to my cheeks. She was right, though, I could feel it. My pussy was slick with my arousal, and the way that Pamela was teasing my slit was only turning me on even more. I could see the gleam of amusement in Harley's eyes, and I knew that she was enjoying watching me squirm.

That lasted until Harley swung her leg over my chest, straddling my shoulders and facing her fellow Gothamite. Then, she moved back, until her own womanhood was placed over my mouth. I did not hesitate, reaching out with my tongue to taste the younger woman, even as Pamela’s fingers stopped teasing and instead reached past my folds and into me.

Harley moaned and shuddered, and I could feel her juices beginning to flow as she was pleasured. In contrast, Pamela was gentle, but insistent, and I soon felt her fingers pumping in and out of me, her thumb teasing my clit. I did my best to pleasure the two, even as Harley began to move against my face, and Pamela picked up her pace, thrusting into me harder and faster.

I was quickly getting close, and from the way that Harley was moaning, and her juices were flowing, she was as well. As for Pamela, her fingers were pistoning in and out of me at a frantic pace, and her thumb was working my clit. The sensations were overwhelming, and I came, my release splashing over Pamela's hand.

From there, instead of giving me a moment to rest and recover, Harley fell off my face and said to Pamela, “Your turn, Red. Imma catch m’breath then enjoy the Wonder Twins.”

I knew what she meant, my breasts, but I was still amused by the reminder of the alien twins as Pamela withdrew her hand and climbed on top of me. Unlike Harley, her front was facing my head, and as she moved up, she met my gaze and held up the loose end of my Lasso, the rope glowing with its unbreakable magic.