Gotham City Nymphs 3 (Patreon)

Bernie and Harley were laughing as they opened the door to the greenhouse and stumbled through the overgrown flora. Rather, Harley stumbled. Bernie, being a stuffed beaver she had tucked under her arm, just laughed with her.

“Let’s get a beer,” Bernie suggested. “Ivy must be asleep by now. She won’t know we took any.”

“You’re fulla great ideas, Bernie,” Harley replied, being thirsty and sober, two conditions the beer would remedy.

She was just taking a drink when she heard the moans coming from Ivy’s room.

“You hear that, Bernie?” Harley whispered.

“As a figment of your imagination, I’d pretty much have to,” Bernie answered.

“It sounds like Ivy’s fucking,” Harley smiled, leaning over the table.

“I’m in your subconscious—I’m hardly going to say something doesn’t sound like fucking.”

“Deeper…!” they heard Ivy cry out.

Harley laughed softly. “That cinches it! Ivy’s totally getting laid!” she whispered.

“Uh-huh,” Bernie said in his normal speaking voice, since it hardly mattered how loud he was when he was one of the voices in Harley’s head. “Wonder if she brought someone home or if she’s just using her tentacles.”

“Gotta be her tentacles. If she wanted a little cuddle-muffin, she’d wait for me to come home!”

“That doesn’t sound like she’s getting it from a little cuddle-muffin, Dr. Quinzel.” Unlike the majority of people who actually existed, Harley’s imaginary friend cared a great deal about her doctorate.

For a moment, Harley looked mad. Then her face broke out into a broad grin. She even started to titter.

“What’s so funny?” Bernie asked.

Harley finally controlled herself, as much as she ever could. “You think she’d share?”

“I don’t know, Doc. It’s not like Ivy wanted to share me.”

“That’s different. Red doesn’t know you’re real.”

“No, Harley, you don’t know I’m real. Ivy knows I’m not.”

“Aww, semantics, fah-mantics. You’re real to me!”

“You have many undiagnosed and comorbid mental disorders.”

“Bernie, you says the sweetest things! And Ivy did let you watch, remember?”

“You hid me in her sock drawer.”

“I hid a lot of things in her sock drawer that night!” Harley giggled. Then her face fell. “Hey, this place’s walls are pretty thin.”

“And glass,” Bernie said.

“You think Ivy knows we’refucking?”

“I think she might have noticed that you stuck a dildo onto me with gorilla glue, yes.”

“And you know Red and I are doing the horizontal limbo…”

“That doesn’t describe even your lovemaking, Doctor.”

“And now I know that Ivy’s fucking someone. We’re kind of all in a love square, like some TV show with declining ratings desperately trying to maintain viewer interest!”

“Except that no one other than you wants to fuck a stuffed beaver with a dildo attached to it.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Bernie, lots of girls appreciate a guy with personality.” Harley tapped on her chin. “Y’know, being an expert in mental health—“

Bernie coughed.

“Watch the sawdust,” Harley advised him before starting over again. “Being an expert on mental health, it occurses to me that if me, Ivy, you, and Ivy’s mystery date all knew about each other, it’d be a lot healthier. Psychologically speaking, that is. If we fuck, one of us is bound to end up with the Clap.”

“Gee, Harley, do you think it might ruin the mood if you went in there and told those two about how you have sex with the dildo you’ve attached to the stuffed beaver that you hear talking to you?”

Harley scoffed. “Guys. You don’t have no concept of romance!” She put down her beer and stood to take off what little clothes she wore. “What’s she gonna say? How can Ivy be mad at me for fucking you when she’s fucking someone else? And how can he be mad at me for fucking Ivy when he’s fucking Ivy right now?”

“I’m not sure you’ve thought this through, Doctor. In fact, I think you’ve only come up with some arguments to do what you already want to do without any thought for impulse con—“

“That’s right, it’s a great idea!” Harley beamed, picking Bernie up. “Are you ready to go with me into Ivy’s room and get some action?”

“Sure, Harley. As I can’t move except for being carried around by you, I’m always ready to go with you anywhere.”

“That’s the spirit!” Harley cheered, and she walked him down the hall to Ivy’s bedroom.

The door was already slightly open. Harley held back a titter and paused beside the cracked door for a listen.

“Goddess!” Ivy gasped. “Fuck me harder! Fuck your little seedbed harder!”

Harley looked at Bernie, putting her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Ivy sure was enjoying getting screwed.

Harley’s face darkened. She sure was enjoying getting screwed.

“Maybe you should fuck her friend,” Harley suggested to Bernie. “And I’ll remind Ivy what that BFF necklace I bought for her means! Butt Fucked Forever!”

“I’m not sure he’ll want a dildo with a stuffed beaver attached to it anywhere near him, much less in one of his orifices.”

“Well, maybe I didn’t want to hear him fucking the hell out of my bestie!” Harley retorted.

“Then why’d you walk right next to the room they’re fucking in?”

“Don’t blame me, that was your idea!”

“Harder, baby! Fuck my ass harder!” they heard Ivy shout. “No one’s ever fucked that ass like you!”

Before she could help herself, Harley pushed the door open. Then she averted her eyes, not wanting to see Ivy’s philandering. But Bernie said “Look at that!” in a stunned tone, so Harley looked.

“Wowww,” she moaned quietly.

Ivy was on the bed, on her hands and knees. Swamp Thing was behind her. He was in her. He was almost through her. They were both too involved to notice that the door was open and someone else was in the room with them, much less that she was accompanied by a stuffed beaver with an anatomically incorrect erection. That, or they didn’t care.

“You will… take… what I wish to do to you…” Swamp Thing groaned, holding her hips while he hammered into Ivy’s ass. His eyes were shut, his head thrown back. Even in the dim light, and with his alien features, Harley could see a pleasured grimace on what passed for his face.

“Yes! Give it to me! I’ll take it! I’ll beg for more, fucker!” Ivy panted, her fat ass pushing back against Swamp Thing’s loins for more of his cock, more of his penetration, more pleasure in her splayed and well-used ass.

It occurred to Harley that it was hard to see what was going on when the room was so dark. Unthinkingly, she flipped on the light switch.

“Who turned on the—“ Ivy started to say, twisting around to see Harley. Her mouth dropped open. The look of passion on her flushed face turned to shock. “Harley?”

Swamp Thing’s eyes opened. His head turned to look at the doorway. “Does that… beaver statue… have a sex toy… attached to it?”

“Enjoying yourself, are we?” Harley asked accusingly.

There was a long moment of silence. Swamp Think looked imperturbable as always. Ivy gawked at her naked lover. She tried to find words.

Then she stopped trying. Still on all fours, with Swamp Thing’s throbbing prick deep inside her, she looked up at him. “Don’t stop! Don’t fucking stop!”

And Swamp Thing resumed rutting into Ivy, fucking her from behind. With a grateful moan, Ivy dipped her head to the pillow. She rubbed her face against the sweat and drool that had already rendered her pillow soaking wet. In her present condition, the damp satin felt like a lover’s caress she was giving herself. Everything felt like a caress with how entirely fucked Swamp Thing had her.

“Hey! Don’t go ignoring me!” Harley snapped, and threw Bernie at them.

It hit Swamp Thing in his bulky shoulder, dildo first, and hung there until Swamp Thing brushed the taxidermy away to roll across the floor. “I believe I have… been violated…”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” Ivy chanted, truly unable to care in her orgasmic condition.

“Pay attention to me! I’m right here!” Harley insisted. “What does he have that I don’t have? Is it a cucumber? I can get a cucumber! Is it that he’s a doctor? I’ve been a doctor this whole time!”

“What,” Swamp Thing asked, “should be done… about her?”

“Fuck her!” Ivy gasped.

Swamp Thing shrugged. It sounded as good a plan as any. And Harley was already naked.

The next thing Harley knew, she was pinned in by two thick tentacles. She was familiar with them. Ivy had used them on her once or twice or twenty times. But they’d never seemed as alive as they did now. Absolutely seething with a kind of lust, like they’d been animated by the passion Ivy and Swamp Thing displayed. Or maybe, with a guy in the room, fucking the hell out of Ivy, they just seemed more like big fat dicks than they ever had before.

Harley gulped. And they weren’t even circumcised…

“Hey Chico, hey Groucho,” she greeted them nervously. “Hey, uhh, where’s Harpo?”

Then she felt Harpo wedging his phallic length right into her tight little asshole.

“MMMMPPHHH!” she began to cry out, when Chico shoved himself into her open mouth. She moved to grab the intruding tentacles, but Groucho snaked around her wrists, corralling both of them and leaving her hanging onto his broad shaft for dear life as Harpo drove all of himself into her ass.