Barbara ran freely over the Gotham rooftops, bounding from one, free falling for a glorious instant before shooting out the thin silk grapple line and swinging a carefully planed parabola to the next hand hold. She moved with a simple grace and outstanding precision, for the route was now quite familiar to her. Twice she spared a moment to glace in the night sky, to where the clouds were painted silver with a dark shadowy bat, the bat signal.
Commissioner Gordon, her father was in need. As her body ran and jumped over the gothic Gotham sky, her mind raced about the files she had committed to memory. As she scaled and slid along her path she mentally scanned the clues, what did Gordon need?
Several of the "major" baddies were on the loose, since they hardly seemed to bother to lock the doors at Arkham Prison. Gang activity was very low, thanks in large part to Batgirl's own "guns for sex" program. She smiled as her mind skipped, drifting to her last "turn in" session. She had rented a warehouse and personally disarmed over one hundred young men and women.
Barbara's mind refocused her attention on the immediate need, the bat signal. Batman was away, as Gordon well knew, so why would he light the signal? Could Gordon be calling her? Not being the sort of girl to take chances Barbara stopped a block before reaching Headquarters. She took out a pair of climbing spikes and strapped them to the feet, the crisp leather of her costume giving to the titanium alloy straps. Twice she cranked the restraining harness to her strong calves she let out a silent moan as the metal gripped.
She then put spikes on the forearms; she stretched briefly, feeling the tight bonds around her legs and arms. Satisfied she used them to climb up the wall and around the corner; she braced herself there in the darkest hour of the night, against a building 18 stories in the air. No wind howled on that night, and the city's sounds carried up even here. Batgirl pulled out her binoculars.
Gordon stood alone on the roof, smoking his pipe. "Standing old and wise as that wizard in all those movies, watching the spotlight beam onto the low clouds drifting lazily in the night" she thought to herself. Batgirl scanned the roof twice, he was alone. She looked from roof to roof, checking for snipers or worse photographers and, pleased that it was safe, she unbuckled her straps and threw her young body into the night air.
She would stick to the shadows when she met her father face to mask. They had not met for business since before the batgirl went solo. Her manners and dress had changed significantly in that time. In the outfit she had chosen tonight her breasts were free of any constraint except a thin layer of her special blend latex, a kind of black body paint. A black fishnet hid nothing of her belly and went down to a garter and the black leather tights. Her utility belt was more a utility thong at this point, but was still bright yellow. Her arms had soft leather gloves on them, and the climbing spikes had been pulled off of them.
Her father had seen her naked just a month ago. At home one day she walked out with her hair up in a towel and nothing else on. She had spent the day with a 'friend' from the League and was a bit off still from the bliss. She had not realized father had come in early to grab a meal.
She walked out humming to herself; he stood up from the fridge with a sandwich in his hand. Barbara has a photographic memory, and she has always believed her father gave it to her. In her mind she recalls the sandwich in his hand, one piece of whole wheat bread and a slice of white, two pieces of ham, one slice of turkey, lettuce, pickle, no mayo, and no cheese. He was wearing his blue shirt and had pulled down his tie. His hair was a chaotic mess, perhaps indicative of his state of mind.
Imagine what he remembers as she quickly but crudely hid her newly sprung breasts. She had been a late bloomer, and still had only little apples, but still. Thankfully she had shaved her pussy clean in the shower; she had been known to shave into bat patterns THAT would have been hard to explain.
She had seen her father naked on more than one occasion; he still slept in the nude, and was quite fond of it really. He was strong without being as formed as Bruce or Dick and his gray hair covered his chest and legs and crotch. The man had never thought to trim his pubic hair; he was too old fashioned for that. So it was a gray mop on top of the stick of his cock.
Sometimes, Barbara would wait till her father was sleeping, and she would sneak in and wait for him to toss and turn and show his daughter the manhood that had spawned her. She had always wanted to touch it, but was too afraid to do so.
Sometimes, secretly, when making love to Alfred, she dreams it is her father's cock she was feeling penetrates her so boldly. That the river of cum that runs out into her eager mouth is the same river that carried her into the world.
But Gordon did not know this, any more than he knew his daughter danced around the night as the "batgirl" Thanks to some clever ground work done with Robin's help; he did not suspect a thing. She hid her face behind a mask and disguised her voice on the few occasions they had talked. And on occasions she would make Robin wear one of her old batgirl suits and strut his young ass in front of Gordon while she stood next to her loving daddy as Barbara Gordon, 20 year old college student.
That had been years ago. Barbara landed loudly on the roof, and stood in the deep shadow next to a wall. She lowered her voice an octave and spoke in sort of a loud hush. "You can turn that off, Batman is away on other business."
"I know" Gordon said calmly, he walked over and shut down the signal, put away his pipe and walked over towards batgirl.
Batgirl slid back deeper into the shadows and said directly "what can I do for you, Commissioner?"
Gordon stopped less than 10 feet from her. This roof had been redesigned slightly, thanks to a generous grant from a certain Bruce Wayne, it shielded out much of the street noises. At ten feet Batgirl could just make out the deep steady beat of her fathers heart as her own heart raced. He was getting to close; the paint would not hide her naked breasts form her father if her got a good look at them.
But she had to admit, the thought excited her. But she had to remain professional. If Gordon was lighting the signal when he knew batman was away it must be dire indeed.
"Ivey has broken free from Arkham; maybe two weeks ago, we don't know yet, they just got around to informing us." Gordon humped sternly, Barbara jumped almost instinctively, daddy only humped like that when he was furious, like when he found her first dildo!
