Fuck The DC Universe Part 1 (Patreon)

Traci had barely been in his house for twelve seconds before the shower was on and she was under the spray. Jaime didn’t even have time to warn her about how long it took for the water to heat up. Didn’t matter, he supposed. When you were covered in Lower Demon guck, you really couldn’t be too concerned with how much you shivered while you got clean.

“Sorry about that,” he called into the bathroom. His armor had shielded him from the explosion of demon… stuff. Traci’s fashionable ensemble, not so much.

He heard the sound of a long exhale. “It’s okay. You saved the world. The world is an okay substitute for my new sweater—even if it was on sale.”

“If it helps, I promise from now on, as your boyfriend, I will make it a priority not to let you get anymore goop in your face.”

“Well… let’s not be too hasty…” The shower shut off. She’d gone into the one attached to the master bedroom, where his parents slept, and now she walked to a drawer in the bedroom—one within eyeshot of the cracked door. Looking through Mrs. Reyes’s things to see if there were some clothes she could borrow.

She pretended not to notice Jaime noticing. There she was, leaning over a drawer with her breasts hanging down, swaying gentle as ripe fruit in the breeze. Jaime couldn’t help but imagine those breasts swaying against his face, in his hands… her ass stuck out in a beautiful curve that he would’ve given anything to run his hand down, his face down, kissing the surface of those ample mounds. He could almost feel his fingers sinking into the softness of those cheeks. And below, the profile of her legs tapering down nicely into slender ankles. He imagined himself kissing his way up them, massaging those thighs so gently as he kissed her, kissed her breasts…

He didn’t look at pornography, but Paco did, and Traci looked sexier than any of the women in any of those magazines. It helped that she was flesh and blood, not paper and ink.

His body reacted to the view. So did the Scarab. Hormones = active/pheromones = active/genetic viability = confirmed/begin native mating protocols.

Hermano, I am not mating with her!

Recommend stimulation of erogenous zone and mild sharing of emotional vulnerability/male’s virility = confirmed/female’s fertility = confirmed.

Not mating!

Traci straightened suddenly, pressing one of his dad’s guayabera shirts to her chest. She didn’t seem embarrassed at all. She smiled at him. “Caught you peeking, didn’t I?”

She walked out of sight and Jaime heard the rustle of cloth as she threw the oversized shirt on. “Just a little.”

Hidden from his eyes, Traci smiled to herself. She liked how powerful an effect her nakedness had had on him, an effect that’d clearly shown on his face… elsewhere… “If you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just asked.”

She came out of the bedroom. Jaime was still standing there. Only now his cheeks were burning bright red. “I, oh, uh… yeah, you’re right. I’ll ask. Next time. I mean.”

The shirt she had on fell to her thighs, but made it easy to wonder if she wore anything under it. Traci walked closer to him. “To think. I used to get all gussied up in a pair of panties and a really funky halter top, but all I really need to get a guy is a football jersey and some mom jeans.”

“That’s not a football jersey,” Jaime replied.

“These aren’t mom jeans either,” Traci replied, raising a bare leg dripping with moisture, setting it back down heavily. “And you know… I could just show you, if I wanted you to see…”

She tugged on the hem of her blouse, pulling it upward, over the vee of her thighs. Jaime could see spindling hairs in the semidarkness shadowed between her legs. Then her belly button. Then the valley between her breasts.

With a sudden movement, Traci pulled the blouse over her head. Jaime was almost struck dumb by the sight. He was suddenly, shockingly aware of how close she was—the moist heat of her body, like someone else’s sweat, the smell of her fragrance… still a bit demon goo, but mostly good.

Her breasts seemed to stick out incredibly far, every contour of her body dazzling as a light behind her wrapped around the curves of her figure. (Minor magic detected/assessing threat potential.) Her thighs were finely chiseled sculptures, her hips a generous arc that flowed into a delicate, narrow waist. The plane of her belly was punctuated with the petite darkness of her navel. Her rib cage was well-padded with healthy, feminine flesh, clean and even in curvature, and then her breasts stood out proudly. They were made for him to suck on. He had to.

“I can’t,” Jaime said.

Mating parameters = met/mating = in progress

Shut up, Khaji Da.

“Can’t?” Traci glanced downward. “Is it the demon goo? Because that’s harmless, trust me. If you want, I could take another shower. We could take another shower…”

Mating call received/insemination prep complete—

“It’s not that! I could! I really could! It’s just… I can’t.”

“Says who?”

“Uh, God.” Jaime nodded gently to a crucifix over on the mantelpiece.

“Are you kid—“ Traci gaped. “Am I literally in love with a Catholic schoolboy?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I’ve met two manifestations of godly wrath. Kinda makes you take that premarital sex stuff seriously.”

“I take it seriously too,” Traci said, putting her hands on her hips. It sent a sort of… motion through her whole body. Which Jaime noticed.

Request for additional insemination prep noted.

Fuck you, Scarab.

“That’s fine! Not judging you! Just… can’t.”

Traci 13 had not mastered the mystical arts by admitting defeat easily. “You could always eat me out. I won’t tell God if you don’t.”

“Let’s leave it at can’t.”

“Okay. Fine.” With a quick spell, Traci dressed herself again, a little gratified to see a look of dismay flitter over Jaime’s face. “Not judging you either… the one teenage boy to turn down sex. I assume make-out sessions are still good.”

“Very good!”

“And if you change your mind, I’m not in line behind Jesse Quick or anything.”

“Oh, no, no, there’s no line.”

“Good.” Traci forced a smile. “Good. I will just… take that other shower. Naked, but alone. You could use one too, for the record.”

“I take different shower,” Jaime sputtered. “In other… house.”

***

Back in her own little sublet, Traci stripped off her clothes quickly. The stench of the demon goo had spread into them and she was eager to rid herself of it once and for all. She gave the faucets a few quick turns and water blitzed out of the shower head, raining down into a steamy patter like she preferred. She stepped into the stall, sliding the tempered glass doors back into place, and felt the spray hit her flesh with a flush of heat. Traci gasped—nothing like a really hot shower. The pipes at Jaime’s house had only supplied her with Mr. Freeze’s bathwater.

She looked down at herself as the stingingly powerful water bounced off her smooth flesh. Her breasts caught her attention—nipples stiffly erected, areolas goosebumping, all of the sensitive flesh aching to be kissed and sucked and licked and fondled… hell, she wouldn’t mind a good bite…

Traci swiped up the soap and began washing herself, stepping out of the spray to quickly work up a thick, fragrant lather. Long slim fingers moved deftly over her skin, seeming to discover new flickering pleasures in every inch. She felt the comingled excitement growing within her. Familiar wants welling up within her hips. She was a true hedonist. It didn’t take much more than her own touch to arouse her to a fever pitch. She couldn’t imagine what Jaime’s touch would do.

Traci let out a long, low groan of pleasure as she thought about it. Her hands slipped up to cup the softly swollen gloves of her cleavage. She tested their weight, hefting them almost reverently. Not a hint of sag to the firmly gathered flesh, and there wouldn’t be for a long time.

She rotated her breasts slowly, tenderly, savoring the feel as she pulled at them and the aching pleasure spread into the muscles of her chest and shoulders. This was why she loved it when men played with her breasts, why they could drive her to the heights of pleasure with one hand—especially when they were just a little rough.

Traci spread her thumbs away from her other fingers, letting their pads rub over her stiff nipples, push slowly, heavily into the engorged buds. Fuck, Jaime, why can’t you be doing this to me? Her hands moved lower, sliding over her ribs, palms pressing down hard enough to feel the bulge of each bone. Her hands tucked inward as she went lower, following the taut line of her body over the gentle muscles of her belly.

Her breath was coming more quickly now. Traci bent forward, the shower spray now soaking her hair into dripping ringlets about her face. Her hands moved over her smooth stomach, so compact, so flawless. So flat that she imagined she would be able to feel Jaime’s cock inside her if she touched her belly while he was fucking her.

Her fingers splayed wide as she reached lowing, following the indentation of her thighs down onto her strong leg muscles. She couldn’t touch her pussy now; it was too sensitive, too needy. She needed something else.

Traci turned off the shower and stepped out of the towel, flinging a towel across her shoulder. She didn’t care about the thick, slathering drops of water that splashed down onto the carpet behind her as she trotted into her bedroom, her breasts heaving deliciously with each giant stride, making them ache all the more. She threw the towel down on her bed, lay down on it, and felt the peace that came with the decision to bring herself to orgasm, Jaime be damned.

She spread her legs far apart. She raised her knees. She touched her fingertips to the insides of her naked thighs, then drew them slowly downward. Her caresses were slow and sensuous, almost calming, moving only inches at a time.

Traci paused with her fingertips only an inch from the sides of her heating pussy. She did this multiple times, making the desire in her sex burn hotter each time. Her whole body was one giant erogenous zone now, all of her nerve endings singing with pleasure. She purred like a cat in heat. Twisted her body around, now stroking the cheeks of her ass with gentle fervor. She could feel her asshole burning and tingling, waiting for her touch. God, Jaime, you don’t know what you’re missing. I love anal.

She pressed her fingers inward, the tips inclined toward her crack, curled her fingers at the knuckles, pressing the pads of her fingers, her fingernails into the firm flesh. Then she pulled her cheeks apart, slowly and teasingly, not stopping until the skin of her crack was pulled taut.

She put a few fingers of her left hand at the top of her crevice, holding her cheeks far apart. Her right hand she raised to her face. She popped her middle finger into her mouth, sucking and rolling her tongue over the finger, soaking it in warm saliva. Then she returned it to her ass, She drew it up her ass crack. Felt her hole tingling with desire as she rubbed at it, her own spit lubricating herself in an endless circle, the dripping pad of her digit traveling around her anus and around it and around it… the more she rubbed, the more she felt like sticking her finger in.

Her asshole opened up to take her finger. She pushed it deep inside. Her body flushed as warm as the shower had been. She felt her fingertip pushing past the tight ring of her rectum, into softer flesh, more vulnerable flesh.

Traci gasped, pushing her finger up herself as far as it would go. She didn’t stop penetrating her own ass until her anus was gripping her finger at the third knuckle. Then she wiggled her finger around inside herself. Getting more and more turned on.

Slowly, Traci began to fuck her finger in and out of her asshole. She moaned louder as her desire grew. Closed her eyes tightly. Bit hard into her lower lips, which barely stifled her whimpers of pleasure. She was fingerfucking her ass now, masturbating it harder and faster with each lustful movement of her finger.

The violation of her anus felt painfully good, and she could detect a ball of lust forming deep within her, in her bowels, separate from the desire burning in her pussy. But the two seemed to merge, pushing together until they overwhelmed her whole body. Yet somehow, Traci thought Jaime’s cock would feel even better.

Fingering her ass only make her pussy need to be stroked that much more. She could feel her clit growing large, its hood sliding out of the way, and she trembled all over, knowing the potential pleasure now gathered in her loins. Rolling onto her belly, Traci began to rut against her bedspread as she fucked her own ass.

She was so glad she’d accepted that quilted bedcover from Jaime’s mom.

***

Traci came twice, once sodomizing herself—she loved that word, sodomize—once using her other hand to jill off. By the end of it, she was so sweaty she had to shower again. Fittingly, that finally got rid of the lingering demon stench. Waste not, want not.

That still left her with the problem of wanting to get physical and instead having things be frustratingly… intangible. She loved how shy and devout and respectful Jaime was, so him being a good Catholic boy was part and parcel with that. But try telling that to her pussy.

She had to distract herself. That was all. Let her hormones slow their roll and get used to a magic wand that was more Hitachi than Harry Potter. So she decided to work on a long-standing project; Jaime’s anniversary present. Since he was always having dates or family gatherings interrupted by superhero fights, she would be making him a good luck charm. Traci was no miracle worker, so it wouldn’t do much, but maybe it’d affect probabilities just enough so that the next bank robbery interrupted English Lit instead of a lazy Sunday binge-watching Vikings.

And so Traci worked on the charm, imbuing it with all her life force, all her will, all her affection for Jaime and her optimism and her courage…

And also all the lust simmering inside her.

***

“No maldito way!” Jaime cried, hefting the leather thong from the box Traci had given him. At the end of it, a tiny scarab dangled, azure. “It even goes with my whole Blue Beetle theme! It’s totally going to give away my secret identity if anyone ever sees it, but—“

“Wear it under your shirt, dumbass,” Traci told him. “It’s a luck charm. With that around your neck, you’ll find reality a bit more responsive to your needs.”

“That sounds valuable. I hope no one’s after me lucky charm.”

Traci scowled at him. “Part of your gift is I’ll let you make that joke. Once.”

“It’s awesome, babe. Thanks.”

And as Jaime put it on, neither of them aware of the charm’s effect on sexual inhibitions, the Scarab innocently scanned and interfaced with the new power source. Neither Jaime nor Traci had told it to leave the charm alone. So instead of immunizing itself to this well-known vulnerability, the Scarab found itself with a problem familiar to anyone who’d ever tried to mix two different kinds of hardware.

Compatibility issues.

And so, the charm’s magic now nestled inside its operating system, the Scarab waited patiently for Jaime to make known his desires.

***

Jaime went to sleep that night more or less content. He wasn’t asexual any more than Traci was. And while he tried not to think of any girl other than Traci like that, and not Traci either too much, there was only so much you could do when the Teen Titans were fighting the Injustice League and you ended up being double-teamed by Poison Ivy and Catwoman.

He could still vividly picture Catwoman, her leather suit unzipped down her cleavage, large breasts rubbing against the boundaries of her undone catsuit, every jiggle on the verge of escape… Ivy, her leafy bodice continually shedding and regrowing, leaves turning auburn shades and falling away only to be replaced by new, green growths, making her perfect body a mosaic of exposure and concealment. He was pretty sure her nipples were green, making every look a potential glimpse. He was pretty sure her labia was too…

And as Jaime went to sleep, unable to wrest those images from his head, the Scarab obediently followed his commands, as unconscious as they were…

***

In the morning, Jaime received an urgent call from Bart Allen. “Jaime! My man! We got the call from Tumba and he is crashing the mode! All ready to sign with us! He’s narrowed it down to Selina, Ivy, and Harley, final decision’s coming next week, can you believe it!” Bart almost ran out of breath, but as always, did not. “We’ve got it, the biggest modeling contract out there, fifty million the first year alone!”

“Crash,” Jaime replied tiredly. Something seemed off to him about getting a phone call at the crack of dawn from Bart about… modeling contracts? But it was probably just Bart. Everything about Bart was off.

“Very crash! Super crash! Where do we go from here, you ask? I’ll tell you! Tumba’s sending his plane, his plane, on Wednesday to pick up the girls. He’s flying us himself! We’ll be going too, of course. See the resort in Barbados, do a little sightseeing, glad hand a little, get photographed, whatever, who cares, you, me, and the girls are celebrating!”

“Sounds good, Bart. I just gotta get down to Houston. I promised Peacemaker I’d look into some stuff with him.”

“Dude! C’mon, get out of it!”

“I can’t, esa. Responsibilities. You go on without me, I’ll catch up later.”

“It is Poison Ivy! She’s gonna want to make up for lost time, man.”

“So make up for it. She’ll have Selina there, it’s not like they’ve never—“

“Dude, I’m gonna be all over Selina, there’s not gonna be room. Don’t send me into a tag-team match without my partner, bro!”

“I’ll wrap up with Peacemaker as soon as I can, promise. You go. Have fun.”

Jaime could hear Bart’s groan like Bart had run to El Paso just to deliver it in person. “You owe me, man. You’re sending me into combat outnumbered!”

“Yeah, having my girlfriend along on your date as a third wheel… how awful for you.”

***

Three hours later, the helicopter shuttle was landing at the headquarters of The Model Company. Ivy and Selina emerged, fresh from their last shoot and still wearing ironical Hawaiian shirts, broad shorts, and sandals. The press ate it up. They were out in force, camera flashes swarming, trying to catch the CEO of The Model Company and two of his most in-demand models in the same shot.

Though it seemed impossible for any mere mortal to be worthy of such attention, Ivy and Selina looked the part. Dressed down, they walked the line between adorable and exotic. They’d been primped, pampered, and run through their routines. They’d worked out for months, dieted for years, tanned for lifetimes. They’d never looked better. No one had ever looked better. They coquettishly entertained the paparazzi’s questions, teasingly bantering with each other until the car arrived, just after Bart came out to greet them both with hugs and kisses.

One might’ve thought it off that such an efficient, well-regarded company would take so long to have a car make itself available. But Bart was good at his job. He knew it was important to whet the media’s appetite for more, more, always more.

The car had a large backseat, and the three all sat together. Bart let each of them snuggle with him, listening to their regaling tales of adventure down in Brazil, careful not to favor one over the other. Selina was his girlfriend, but Ivy was frenemyly enough with her to try to steal him away without Jaime to pacify her.

Selina didn’t mind too much. They adored him, listening rapturously as he pointed out the ridges and ravines along the coastline, the beautiful lagoons inset in the rock like jewels in a crown, the thick coral reefs that stirred the waters like the waves had minded of their own. Finally, the car arrived at one of Tumba’s many private residences. With arms wrapped around either woman, Bart told them to change. Once they ate, they would be hitting the town.

***

Being independent-minded as ever, Selina rented a car for herself. It was waiting for them when they left the nightclub, several hours and several drinks later, either woman still on the arms of Bart. They’d danced excessively with Tumba and several other friends and several more friends of friends, but at the end of the night, there was no question who they’d be going home with.

The young model rubbed their nearly bare breasts against Bart’s arms as their flitted their almost obscenely clad bodies to the sports car Selina had chosen. It barely had a backseat; the front seat had to be pulled down so Bart and Selina could get in. Selina happily swung her tight ass inside, showing it off through the clinging black skirt of her dress.

Ivy goosed her as she got in, and almost did the same to Bart, but he was too fast for her. Still, Ivy flashed the little bare slit between her legs as she bent to get into the driver’s seat, her high hemline riding up her firm thighs all the way to her delectable ass. The onlookers tried not to stare, but they, as anyone would, had a hard time looking anywhere but at the irresistibly sensual bodies of the young, erotic models.

Selina slid in close against Bart. “So what’d you have in mind?” she asked, flashing a smile as she lay against him, one leg extended to the floor and the other pulled up across the seat to expose the luscious flesh of her thigh and sculpted leg.

“How about we go find Jaime?” Bart asked. “If he doesn’t want to join the party, we’ll bring it to him anyway.”

Both women cooed in approval, Ivy making it an almost sexual sound. She swallowed her distaste for the internal combustion engine and drove. As the car moved away, Bart put his arm around Selina’s shoulder, running his hand down her back, finding where the dress stopped covering her and cupping part of her thigh.

“That feels nice,” Selina sighed, his hand rising, groping the entire cheek of her lovingly rounded ass. She felt a wave of lust envelope her body as she looked down at his pale hand against her dark, golden tan. Her clit was stiffening, words seemed impossible—she circled her tongue around her darkened lips, signaling how deeply aroused she was for four car lanes over.

With a flick of his wrist Bart slid his hand up under the hem of Selina’s dress, pushing it practically up around her wasp-like waist to see her panties. They didn’t disappoint. Selina posed for him, her slim arms hovering up and around her classically featured profile in an iconic modelling pose. She was so overwhelming, Bart just had to look at Ivy, to see if two women could look so amazing.

Ivy was incredible in a short black dress, its hemline plunging deep between and beneath her breasts, making it clear to even the most generous viewer that she couldn’t possibly have a bra on. The dipping vee stopped at her waist, and the only reason it ended there seemed to be so that there was enough fabric left to join together and keep her dress from flying up. Her hemline—more fringe than anything else—came so high on her thighs that her panties were similarly evident. From the lowest curve of her ass, she was either wearing a G-string or nothing at all. She had on high heels and pantyhose and looked ready, willing, and able to fuck.

For once, Selina was dressed even sluttier than Ivy. Or undressed, if you will. She was unzipping her own dress, letting it fall down her waist to her thighs, the collapsed petals of it actually covering more of her legs than her hemline would’ve. Her nominally black bra was actually quite translucent, and her undone dress rode low enough on her waist to show her own G-string, its very loose knot tied right up against her cunt. She looked not like she was ready to fuck, but like she had just been interrupted doing so.

It was an interruption Bart was determined to bring to an end. The evening out had been fun, even without Jaime being able to join them and Ivy coming along like a pouty third wheel. But he hadn’t been able to get anything from Selina, not with Ivy there to feel sorry for, and he’d had to content himself with groping Selina at superspeed, so fast she could barely feel it. That was no fun. He wanted her to feel it.

Now she was. They rolled over the back, bodies rubbing together, kisses wild. Grabbing hold of her bra, he vibrated it until he could pull it through her body, still hooked. Side effect: her nipples were hard. He sucked them as Selina opened his pants, getting her hand around his cock, jerking him hungrily. He ran his hand through her hair and she took it, bringing it down under her fallen dress to her g-string. That slid out of the way easily. Then twin fingers pumped inside Selina, once, twice, already forcing a moan from her.

“You two fuckers better not come without me,” said Ivy from the front seat. “I at least want Jaime to see what he’s missing.”

“Relax, Ives. We’re just getting warmed up.”

Selina kissed Bart one last time, ramming her body against his hard enough to make her soft flesh sting, then sliding down his body, in-between his open legs, her upper body hanging into his lap. She settled her breasts upon his groin, feeling the wet heat of his precum-laden cock through the open crotch, and tugged down on his pants. His cock popped out of the hole, instantly finding itself engulfed in her cleavage.

“Better not cum on my tits,” she warned. “I only want you good and horny and just full of cum. Ivy might need some too. Tell me when you’re about to blow and I promise I’ll make it up to you later…”

She fucked her body slowly back and forth upon the length of his dick, running it into and out of her cleavage’s valley, promising with her body as well as her voice. “That feels so good,” she breathed. “I hope we’re there soon…”

They hit one of El Paso’s customarily long stoplights. This time, Ivy didn’t bitch about inefficient mammal traffic. She put on the parking brake and turned around, leaning across the front seats to put her hand on Selina’s head. She pushed downward, forcing Selina’s face to Bart’s upright cock, and Selina slipped her tongue along his willing erection. When Ivy pulled on Selina’s hair, Selina let herself be lifted, suckling, off Bart’s prick, then leaning back to give Ivy a little kiss on the cheek for her ‘help.’

“Missing Blue Balls?” Selina teased.

“You couldn’t keep the speedy one,” Ivy taunted. “Not if I really wanted him.”

“You wouldn’t be able to keep up,” Selina moaned, closing her breasts over Bart’s cock again, slipping forward so the whole thing was lost between her tits.

The light changed and Ivy turned back around, stomping the gas so they took off with squealing tires. That much closer to getting there.

Bart was buzzing, hips bucking, fucking his cock through Selina’s pressed-together cleavage and up to her delighted face. She goggled as she saw how large it’d grown.

“Oh… so good! Too big to fuck my titties… gotta fuck my cunt!”

Ivy pulled up in front of Jaime’s house, turning around to see Selina nearly prostrate upon Bart’s erection. She playfully slapped Selina’s upthrust ass. “Come on, cat. If you play with that cock anymore, you’ll have to share, and I know how you hate that… greedy bitch!”

Selina slowly pulled herself off Bart, smiling at the trail of precum his thrusting had left between her breasts. Tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth, she eased his cock back inside his underwear, oohing with delight as the cotton was suddenly soaked through with the hot saliva she’d left on it. She zipped up Bart’s fly, fastened his belt, then rose—leaving her dress puddled on the floor. Bart could see almost all of her nudity, and the wet pair of panties that were just as good, as she brushed past him to step out the car door.

“Sorry, whiz kid, but you know the rules. I’ll show my tits to anyone, but my pussy and ass only go on display up where Blue Beetle can see.”

“You just want someone to have a big dick for Ivy to suck on so she won’t steal yours,” Bart accused laughingly.

“Mmmmm. If only you had two…”

Bart stumbled over himself so much leaving the car, he ended up following the two women. While he’d usually rush ahead, this time his eyes were glued to Ivy’s gorgeous bare legs, the hem of her mini-skirt swaying as hard as it could but completely unable to hide her voluptuous ass. While Selina showed him a spray of pubic hair sticking out from the crotch of her panties. His cock got harder, further complicating his walk as he accompanied the women to the door.

Ivy knocked and Jaime answered, a bathrobe over his dishabille costume. When he saw Ivy, his eyes went wide. When he saw Selina, his jaw dropped.

“May we come inside?” Selina asked. “Once we do, you’re welcome to come inside too…”