F x M Batgirl Spiderman twerking romance BDSM
Description: Batgirl and Spiderman have defeated King Pin and the Black Mask. What now? A celebration. Batgirl is much freaky than someone would imagine. Piercings, and loves to be tied down with webbing and have her hair pulled while getting anal. She also stripteases to loosen poor Peter up.
Tags: Twerking, anal, straight, eating out, pairing, romance, freak, batgirl, spiderman, bdsm, restraints, oral, eating out.
Batgirl. Just the thought of her sends shivers down the spine of every villain in New York City. With her long crimson hair, piercing blue eyes like clear water, and tight-fitting suit that accentuated every inch of her divine body, she was the true vision of beauty and strength. She moves with the grace of a panther prepared to strike with equal feline effortlessness, her lithe body flowing through the darkness with deadly precision.
Her suit hugs every curve, accentuating her toned muscles and lean figure. The leather clung to her like a second skin, the cowl framing her delicate features. Her cape flutters behind her like a black butterfly, a symbol of her power and independence. And damn it, her ass, her ass was the most jarring aspect of her figure. It was like two honey hams, vast and plump, squeezed in wrapping that gave unbelievable form to an otherwise expansion mounds of flesh.
She sits on a couch, mirth playing on her face. She and Spiderman had finally accomplished the un-accomplishable, the Black Mask and King Pin were defeated. One night. One fateful night. Their partnership was nearing an end though, given their union was forced by the unlikely alliance of the former mentioned villains. She might have been happy, should be happy, but really she was forcing this, and it showed. Though, despite all this, she looked like a goddess.
But Batgirl is not just a fighter. The time to fight for justice was long gone as the night wrapped up. She was a woman, with desires and passions just like anyone else. And now the fight for something less justice oriented was coming into being. She was hesitant about confronting it.
She liked Spider-man. His costume looked pretty good on him, but he looked even better when he was out of it. But he wasn't just a body that Batgirl found alluring, he was whip-smart and damn it, his casual throw-away comments and cavalier attitude were rather attractive. He could be nearing death, or on the door of it, like he often was, but he would have something to say about it. He would not go quietly into the night without a sarcastic comment.
She loved the thrill of the chase, the rush of adrenaline as she chases down a criminal. But there was something else that excited her, something that few people know about, she wanted Peter. She needed Peter. Adrenaline was more potent when it was fueled by arousal. And she was pretty worked up, yet nervous, now that they were alone. Nothing in the world but them. Surrounding them, her apartment, just them... On a couch. One glove squeaked along her thick thighs, the other spooling crimson hair into a tight spring. She bites her lower lip, her eyes narrowed and scanning Spiderman's body.
"Well, that was quite the celebration," Peter said uncomfortably, a flute glass in his hand, the contents gone, it looked quite out of place in the costumed hero's grip. The spider-man was nervous, perhaps more than Batgirl. They'd been working for so long, so hard, never a moment's rest, and at Barbara's behest, he was drinking a celebratory drink.
He leaned forward and placed the glass next to its sister, the one Batgirl had swiftly finished off ... three different times in quick succession, "I should---"
"The celebration isn't over with, Spider-man." She said, her voice slightly tipsy, and slurred, but not overtly drunken or inebriated. She needed to be sharp, but she needed to cut the nervous edge from her proposition. Make no mistake, the Spider wasn't leaving without the Bat getting what it wanted.
Barbara dared a hand, sliding from her thick vast thigh over to the outfit that Peter wore. Yellow gloves on blue thighs. She could feel Peter trembling under her hand. She could feel the awkwardness building between them. She was rather nervous herself, but the now-or-never mentality was propelling her forward.
"Ah... Batgirl..." She turned to focus on her entirely. He wasn't completely oblivious. He knew when someone was hitting on him, but he never felt like the person hitting on him was going to pounce on him like a fucking panther, devouring him whole.
"Call me Barbara, Peter." She fenced back at him, her voice adopting a playful low purr.
"Barbara, what are you doing?"
She shifted her body toward Peter, and she leaned forward a little, allowing her hand to a more effortless stretch, her finger splaying out, taking the thigh of Peter in the palm of her hand. She slipped upward further, the journey of something tender and perhaps even friendly broaching on the domain of, well, the domain of something quite, quite arousing.
"Call me Batgirl, actually." She chuckled a little, her voice deeper now, no longer seductive so much as bold and honest.
"Batgirl... what are you doing?" Spider repeated, the quality of the name that he had said repeatedly near constantly for a month straight had taken on a much more prominent meaning, something more forbidden.
"What does it look like? Or do you not have a witty comeback for this? Hmmm. The truth is, I like you. I have always liked you. And I think we should celebrate now that we have accomplished our goal." Her voice was honey silk but there was a trace of hesitance in her forcefully casual demeanor. Her eyes looked at Peter, looking at him imploringly, she was out on a limb and she knew it, but she was propelled by something much more powerful than logic or reason, she was horny and had been horny since the thrill of taking down their foes.
Under that mask she was blushing, the way her eyes darted this way and that after the silence grew longer, empty. Pregnant.
"I, ah, like you too Barb--- Batgirl." His uncertainty and uncomfortableness made her decoration rather timid and uneventful, but the feeling was there. He wouldn't be acting this way if he hadn't found her to be ... if he hadn't thought time and time again about making love to her. Wild, passionate love.
"Well, I guess that is covered." She said, not skipping a beat, though her heart had skipped so many times that her heart would surely fail her sooner rather than later, "I guess onto the celebration. What, oh what, do you think that we should do for such a monumental occasion?" It was a question, but the way that her hand planted itself straight onto the groin of Peter, well, it wasn't so much a question proper, more a rhetorical one, "Anything come to mind, anything... popping up?" It was easy for her to act the part of her true wants and desires now that she had confirmation of their mutual attraction.
This wasn't to say that Spider-man was jumping all over her, he had a shell that needed cracking but she was more than willing to provide ample incentive. This was evident by the way that she slide that hand up and down his crotch, underneath her glove, his tight costume, and under that something did grow. It was just a half-grown bulge, the outline left little to the imagination, no mystery to it.
