Because She's Worth It (Patreon)

Billy knew it was probably a dumb idea to hang out at the Watchtower when he didn’t specifically need to be, what with how weird his secret identity was. But, heck with it—he could watch all the R-rated movies he wanted on their Netflix account. And their HBO MAX account got Game of Thrones.

Even in space, though, a door chime trilled right in the middle of a sex scene. Billy hurriedly closed out of Emilia Clarke’s nudity and opened up his e-mail account. Nothing more scandalous than how he was still getting messages from a SaveCommunity mailing group. He said “Enter!” and the door obediently whooshed open.

“Hey, Captain Marvel—“ Zatanna said, looking like a million dollars as usual, but slightly out of breath. Her saucy grin a little uneven. She wasn’t wearing the usual ensemble that passed for a uniform, but a frayed white handkerchief dress that fit her low-key indie style, while leaving her legs mostly exposed above heavy boots and her cleavage mostly revealed inside its black bra.  “You go by Billy, right?”

Billy nodded, a little off-balance by having Zatanna Zatara standing in his doorway. He got up from the couch, greeting her with a wave that he quickly buried in his pocket. Looked stupid when she was five feet away. “Yeah… that’s me.”

In the field, the two magic-users weren’t often paired together—too much redundancy—but if Zatanna needed raw power to work a spell, they would usually team up. And as the supreme magic-user on the team, Zatanna of course knew his secret. She looked out for him a lot, like he was her little brother or something, not a superhero in his own right. He kinda liked her being concerned for him, but didn’t like how patronizing that concern could be. The little reminders she gave him about mission objectives or how to fight giant robots, like he’d asked her for help on his homework. She wasn’t that much older than him—just too old to see the man when she could look past it to the boy.

“It’s okay, you can sit,” Zatanna said as she came inside, the door automatically securing itself behind her. She studied his face, with his rounded cheeks of lingering baby fat and his freckles. His lanky frame, gawky limbs, slender torso. When he was Captain Marvel, of course, he was big and tall and strong, but that was about as impressive to her as a tuxedo T-shirt.

Billy sat down obediently. It wouldn’t be so bad if she weren’t so fricking hot. He knew girls matured faster than boys, but it was like she’d changed into another species. Tall, pretty, knowing how to dress and do her hair and apply her make-up. They could’ve gone to the same school, but she looked like she could star in a CW series about high school and he—he looked like the real thing.

Zatanna looked over her shoulder, back to the closed door, and for a moment she struck Billy as nervous—as if she had anything to be nervous about from him. But whatever her misgivings, she quickly made a firm decision. She went to the wall, pulling out the wall-mounted seat and armrests that accommodated guests, and sat down across from Billy, next to the walled viewscreen he’d been watching. She sat with one long leg slung over an armrest, and Billy instinctively looked down as the hem of her dress flew open to settle around her spread thighs—

His mouth gently parted. She wasn’t wearing any panties, he was sure of it. That darkness he’d seen between her legs couldn’t have been underwear, not with the flash of pink at its center. He’d never seen a pussy before, but all his instincts screamed that that was one. If she moved her other leg only a couple of inches in the opposite direction, he’d actually see inside her.

But you don’t want to see inside her, do you Billy? The Wisdom of Solomon’s voice was cool, almost condescending. It knew everything about everything, and sometimes, Billy wanted to learn enough to shut it up. Don’t worry about it. She wants you to see inside her. And who knows what else?

Billy desperately tried to keep his eyes off Zatanna’s flexing legs, her mini-dress inching higher. He shut his mouth before he could gasp. Pink. At the bottom of his vision. Pink. There wasn’t as much darkness as he thought—she must be shaved. The black before had been shadows. He couldn’t gasp. He couldn’t let her hear him.

Zatanna’s thighs tensed, drawing backwards, nearer together. “I hear you’re the birthday boy. I’m sure you celebrated plenty with your friends and family, but on behalf of the JLA—you wanna hang out?” Zatanna asked. “After all, you’re eighteen now. An adult. A man. It’s time everyone starts treating you as a full member of the team. And part of that is that we… hang.”

“I’m fine with hanging,” Billy assured her, wiping some sweat from his brow. “What do you want to hang—how do you want to hang out?”

Zatanna squirmed, once again appearing uncomfortable, but she covered it with a nervous smile that quickly calmed into sincerity. “I was thinking that us two, we’re the Millennials. I’m on one end of the spectrum, you’re on the other. Batman, Superman, they’re so old they can’t remember being your age. But I can remember what being a teenager is like… I know what I wish someone would’ve told me. I’d love for you to benefit from my experience—to learn some of the hard lessons I’ve learned, without them being so hard.”

Billy could feel the metallic sting of his fly against his cock, right though his underwear. “I’d really like learning from you. But, you know, you’re not that much older than me—“

“I didn’t say I was older, I said I was more experienced.” Zatanna stood up and Billy almost sighed, seeing her skirt trickle back down her legs. Well, fair was fair. It was worth not seeing more of her sex if it meant she didn’t see how hard he was. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty experienced.” He sat up straighter, trying to jostle his hips so his hard-on would move down along his body, into the soft denim of his jeans’ crotch. “Not as experienced as you, of course—not that you’re that experienced—“

“You don’t have to lie about how experienced you are,” Zatanna assured him. “I think it’s kinda cute.”

“Cute?”

“That you’re not as worldly as some other guys. I mean, have you even tasted…”

“Yeah! Sure!” Billy interrupted into her pause. “A lot!”

“Me too! I’ve drunk a lot.”

“A lot?”

“Pints.”

“Pints!?”

“I could get some now, if you want.”

“I… sure!”

“If you have a taste for it.”

“A taste for…”

“Reeb em.” And a bottle of beer appeared in Zatanna’s hand.

She popped the cap, handing it to him. It was cold in his head, condensation sweat running thickly over his fingers, foam buzzing atop the bottleneck. He held the bottle gingerly.

God, why did he have to have such a crush on her? She was just perfect! She wore the best clothes. She had the coolest powers, told the best jokes, had the best… way of talking… that made her wry observations hilarious. If just one part of her wasn’t absolutely perfect, she would at least be a little approachable, but no. She was everything. Even acted approachable, so he felt like an assclown for not being able to walk up to her and talk to her and ask her out, even now, when there was so clearly—something! Right?

“You have any glasses? Maybe some coasters?”

“Yeah!” Billy said hurriedly, staring at the brown-tinged glass. “Under the sink.”

“Thanks.”

Billy watched as she walked into the kitchen segment of the small room, her steps jostling her hemline up her pumping legs, pale inner thighs burning in the room’s shadows. It was basically just another segment of corridor, with the entry door at one end and a window at the other. The kitchen—just the part of the room with a trash can, refrigerator, microwave, and sink—fell between the couch/TV ‘living room’ segment and the bed under the window, where the room ended. She seemed to be getting closer and closer to that bed…

He still couldn’t believe he had seen a pussy, her pussy, when all of his friends talked about them. It wasn’t at all like the videos online, so grossly, obviously inhuman that they couldn’t even arouse him. Hers was real. The hair, the pinkness, the moisture—all balanced somehow, fighting for attention in his brief glimpse. Miraculously, it seemed a perfect fit for all his fantasies of Zatanna. The very thing he would find if his dreams ever went beyond Zee telling him how much she wanted him…

Zatanna bent over and rummaged through the cupboard beneath the sink, where Billy had stuck all the plastic cups and paper plates he almost never used. This time, Billy did gasp. With her head in the cupboard, her ass was practically in his face, the skirt sliding up the backs of her thighs like a hand slowly arousing her. She bent over further, further, and her skirt nipped up the dangling half-moons of her ass. He could see between her legs, see her sex, so warm, so beautiful, tight and neat, demanding to know if he was the one man enough to make up open herself up to him.

“Mmm…” Zatanna bent lower with a crackle of her spine. “I think I’m getting the kinks out.”

Holy shit, her dress had finally crested the hill of her ass. Billy could not only see her cunt, so juicy, so tasty, but her puckered asshole. He felt his cock grow another inch, wishing it could be inside either of those sweet, feminine holes.

Both of them, the Wisdom of Solomon said. First her pussy, to break the tension, then her ass once you’ve got her good and relaxed. Then her mouth…

“This is why it’s so important to stretch,” Zatanna said, straightening slightly, her mini-dress slithering back into place. “You want everything nice and loose. Maybe you can help me stretch later. It’s a good habit to get into…” She turned around, a plastic-wrapped stack of Dixie cups in her hands. Took one out, gestured, and some of the beer flew from his bottle to fill her cup. She stopped the stream with another small gesture. “So how’s public school?”

Billy was the only one there, but it took him a second to realize she was talking to him. “Good, good.”

“Bet they don’t make you wear uniforms there.”

“No.”

“That must be nice. I wasn’t allowed to dress up at all hot. Gotta wear the skirt and the blouse and a bra. It’s torture.”

“I’m sure they look good on you.” Billy tried his beer. It was bitter, but not as bad as those old commercials made out. He got it down without coughing.

“You’re sweet. But those rags couldn’t look good on Starfire. I’m gonna burn them one of these days. Unless you want ‘em.”

Now Billy sputtered, some beer going in his nose. “Why would I want them?”

“I don’t know—maybe your girlfriend could wear them. Are you seeing anyone?”

“I’m seeing a lot of someone,” Billy said, before wincing. “I mean, no, no, not like that—“

“Well, if you don’t have a girlfriend, you could always take my skirt and…” She took a step toward him and tripped suddenly, falling as Billy’s reflexes took over. He leapt out of the couch and under her, catching her as she stumbled into him—her breasts landing in his face, her perfume filling his nostrils, her body so soft and warm, he couldn’t believe something so perfect was against his body…

“Shit,” Zatanna swore. “Everything’s so slippery…” She raised herself up on all fours, still technically on top of him. “Are you alright, Billy?”

Billy looked down, as if checking his own body, but all he could see was the sight of her breasts from above. The top of her dress had billowed out, revealing exactly how her black bra clung to her cleavage, drops of sweat glistening on the hard curves, making it seem like they would slip out of their tight cups at any moment. He felt a damp warmth at his crotch and knew it was the precum leaking out of his straining cockhead.

“I’m fine!” Billy squeaked. “Are you okay?” What’s that dampness on her breasts? “There’s something—“ She’s lactating. “I mean, your bra…”

Zatanna gave him a half-smile. “What about my bra?” She put her hands under her breasts and lifted them for a better look. Now they were only a few inches from his face. If he just leaned forward, he could drown himself in them. His cock throbbed harder and harder. “Oh. How embarrassing… you don’t mind if I…?”

She reached for the clasp on her bra.

“That’s fine,” Billy said woozily. He felt like he would pass out.

Zatanna opened her bra. Her breasts were swollen, full, starkly pale with little stencils of blue running through them to the engorged nipples, a flush of pink with beads of the purest milk flush within her areolas, like the cups of her bra had been oysters and these were the pearls.