Marry the Night

Vicki woke up when her head slipped under the water. She came up for air gasping and sputtering, to find herself in a fine porcelain bathtub, the water gone lukewarm and quilted with the scum of dissipated bubble bath. She ladled water over her face and hair, scouring herself clear of anything that might be clinging to her, then stepped out of the tub. She was too freaked to care much about someone seeing or recording in the few seconds it took her to grab a towel from the bar.

Her reporter's instincts came to the forefront. She remembered going to Wayne Manor—and the bathroom was plastered with the sterling W monogram, on the towels, on the pebbled glass of the shower, on the bath mat. It was like a themed hotel, just this side of tasteful, but only just.

She couldn't quite remember how she'd ended up in this tub, but her old clothes were missing, not in the empty hamper either. But there were fresh clothes laid out for her. Drying herself off quickly, she changed into them. They fit her perfectly.

There was a gentle rap at the door. "Are you decent, Vicki?"

She recognized the voice. "Bruce?" She flew to jerk the door open. There he stood, wearing an elegantly casual outfit—chinos, polo shirt, penny loafers. "What happened? What am I doing here?"

"You came here for an interview," Bruce prompted her. "Unfortunately, you wandered into the garden, where Ivy was working on some of her experiments. I'm afraid you caught a small dose. You passed out, fell in the mud, I offered to let you wash up—you must've fallen asleep. I suppose until the gas wore off."

"You just let Ivy grow some hazardous chemical on your grounds?" Vicki demanded.

"I let women do all sorts of things," Bruce said urbanely. "Would you like to go on with the interview now?"

For a journo, that was no question at all.

***

"After you," he said, ushering her into his oak-paneled home office. She swept by him in a mist of jasmine, the perfume she'd found no doubt left by a past lover. His eyes were riveted to her ass as her buttocks flounced under her short skirt. He had picked out the skirt, probably guessing correctly that it would display her thighs, trim and fit, all the way down to her knee-high boots. Those were better suited to what she'd been wearing, but they proved startlingly erotic with bare skin.

Vicki stopped in the middle of the spacious office, atop the luxurious carpet, and turned around with her pocket recorder in hand. "A lovely office, Mr. Wayne," she said.

"Please," Bruce said. "I thought we've moved on to just 'Bruce and Vicki.'"

"Perhaps when we're off the clock."

"I didn't know I was on the clock." He took Vicki by the arm and steered her toward a chair. Her flesh was vibrantly alive under his fingers. After all the 'misfit toys' he'd interacted with, a normal—albeit beautiful—woman was paradoxically exotic. "Do sit down. I'm sure your readers are quite interested in how my wives and I are holding up. I'd rather they hear the truth from someone they can trust, such as yourself, not some muckraker..."

Vicki smiled up at him with ruby lips, standing in front of the chair. "I understand, Mr. Wayne," she said. "The truth is why I came here today. Oh, I hope to interview you of course. But my real purpose is that... there's something I have to say."

Bruce shook his head and laughed. "Vicki... I know."

"You... do?"

"Of course. It's not the first time."

"It's not?"

"No." Bruce laid a hand on her shoulder and eased her back into her chair. "Even with that whiff you took, I'm sure you remember what happened at the restaurant. You can't stop thinking about it. You can't get me out of your head."

Vicki blinked. He was disconcertingly close to the mark—she had been fascinated by where that cruel, capricious, and frighteningly effective lust had come from, sprouting from America's shallowest playboy, a depth charge proving that still waters ran deep. She liked to think that if she'd just been picked up at a bar and fucked like that, she'd just give the guy a ring and see if they could be a regular weekend thing. But coupling that performance with an elaborately harmless, essentially amicable man like Bruce Wayne made her smell a story.

Still, his arrogant words hit too close to home for her not to snap in retaliation. "You'd like that, wouldn't you!? I get hung up on you while you run along, chalking me up as just another of your conquests!"

His eyes darkened. For a moment, she thought she saw the animal that had fucked her before. "Actually, I was thinking that as long as you're interested, we'd make a good team. You're a smart, capable woman—an excellent journalist—we could do a lot for this city, working together."

Vicki gulped, her eyes sliding downward. She looked away before they reached his lap. "I thought you already had a publicist."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

Vicki stared at him as if she could see what he was implying. It sounded too good to be true. Could Bruce Wayne, the playboy, really be a tiger in disguise?

"What I'm doing with Ivy and Harley is only the beginning. You're a reporter. You know there's more to me than wine tastings and soirees. Through Wayne Enterprises, there's social work, charities, job creation—"

"And what about the wine tastings?" Vicki asked him, voice rich with insinuation. "The soirees?"

"They're more fun," Bruce replied darkly. "Wouldn't you agree?"

None of this sounded like Bruce, even if she knew intellectually that his company was generally on the up and up, that for as much time as he spent in the gossip columns, he really did care about something besides adding zeroes to his bank account. He was just trying to spare her feelings, she thought. She smiled sadly and patted his hand.

"It's alright, Bruce," Vicki said. "You can tell me the truth. What happened that night was just... beginner's luck. Too bad, because I always did have a bit of a crush on you. But you have Harley, Ivy, you don't need me, I don't really turn you on—"

"Bullshit," Bruce said, and lunged for her.

Vicki gave a squeak of surprise and the next thing she knew, he was pinning her down on the couch, his hard body pressed hotly against hers. He ground his mouth over her lips, kissing her savagely, thrusting his tongue deep. Vicki felt shock—and excitement. This was what Bruce had been like before. It wasn't just a fluke.

"Join me," Bruce asked huskily. "Be my wife. It'll always be this good."

Vicki quivered with sexual delight. "Prove that you really want to marry me."

He rolled off her, picked her up, and carried her down the hall to the bedroom. Vicki trembled in his arms, praying that he was telling the truth. She knew now how much pleasure she could feel, the heights of ecstasy she could reach, and that she needed a hot-blooded man to take her there. Could Bruce be the one she'd been looking for all the time? Rich, handsome, and even a little compassionate? Again it seemed too good to be true.

In the bedroom he set her on her feet and kissed her again hard and hungry, running his hands up and down her tall, lusciously curved body. She could feel him trembling—but with timidity or lust? She'd soon find out. The next few minutes would determine whether she could really marry Bruce Wayne.

"Undress me," he said roughly.

Vicki felt a wicked thrill as she sank to her knees and began taking off his shoes and socks. The time before at the restaurant, for all its pleasures, had been degrading and frighteningly intense, but it had taught her about her real self. Inside the quiet, modest workaholic there was a wicked slut, a wanton woman who loved rough, no-holds-barred fucking. She prayed that Bruce would meet her needs. If he did, he might well be the perfect man.

He stepped out of his shoes and socks, and Vicki rose to remove his belt. She noticed that his face was flushed, but she wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or lust. She pulled his shirt off, tousling his thick dark hair. A powerful wave of lust shook her as she admired his hard hairy chest. She kissed him there, greedily and lustily, before reaching for his groin.

Her hands were trembling by the time she got to his fly. She knew it wasn't nerves. It was violent, unashamed desire. She could hardly wait to get him naked, to touch and taste and explore his exciting muscular body, to feel his cock inside her. The thought of Bruce had always turned her on like mad. But that was nothing compared to the real thing.

With shaking fingers she finally managed to unzip his fly and help him out of his pants. Only his jockey shorts were left. Vicki felt another dizzying wave of longing as she stared at his crotch and saw that it was hugely tented. His big hard cock bulged obscenely, threatening to burst right through the cloth.

Bruce was trembling slightly as she lowered his shorts, breathing hard, flushed in the face. Vicki brought the elastic waistband gently down over his powerful erection, then whisked the shorts down to his ankles. She got them off, then swiftly returned her eyes to what attracted her most, his fiercely erect manhood.

It was just as she remembered it from their one and only fuck, a magnificent thick ten inches of cock, the head huge and hard and purple. It sprang stiffly from his crisp brown bush, hugging his flat belly, the shiny head oozing big bright bubbles of pre-cum. His handsome rosy balls were swollen up round and tight. Vicki felt saliva pooling in her mouth.

"Oh, Bruce!" she gasped. "My God!"

She couldn't control her wicked impulses. She seized the hard throbbing stalk and drew his huge knobby cockhead down to touch her lips. She kissed it hotly, then opened her mouth and inserted the huge hard tip, letting it rest on her tongue. Bruce gasped and shuddered. She started to suck slowly, longingly, on the big juicing bell-end.

She felt she'd be content to stay like that forever, on her knees, sucking slowly and deliciously and strongly on his huge handsome cock, giving pleasure to the man who had become her obsession. Glancing up, she saw that Bruce was beet-red in the face, his nostrils quivering, his eyes rolling. He panted and quivered as she sucked him, and his fingers strayed into her thick glossy red hair and caressed her there.

Vicki began to ease more and more of his thick hard meat onto her tongue. It was a huge prick, bigger than any she'd had before, and it stretched her small mouth widely, but she felt only excitement as she eased the stiff shaft toward her throat. She opened her silky wet throat and took in the powerful head of his dick. His swollen balls came to rest against her chin.

"That's good, Vicki," Bruce moaned, his fingers gripping convulsively in her hair. "That's real good..."

Vicki began to suck with real hunger now, fast and hard, keeping the huge hard head of his dick lodged snugly in her throat. Her saliva boiled and gushed around his slick meat, and her tongue tickled and lashed the cock she adored. She tasted his pre-cum again and found it even better than before, much better. She had no reservations at all about blowing this man, eating his come.

"Keep going, Vicki. Don't stop. You're almost done with your column," Bruce was moaning, his voice hoarse with pleasure, his fingers caressing feverishly in her hair.

More and more of his delicious liquid dribbled out onto her tongue and down her throat, inspiring Vicki to suck his prick even faster and harder. With others there had been shame, self-loathing, a feeling that she was degrading herself by performing for someone who didn't deserve her, but with Bruce she could let herself go completely. Her loud, greedy, uninhibited sucking told him how much she wanted him.

"Unnhh!" he gasped. "That's beautiful, Vicki—just beautiful! You don't know how good you look with my cock down your throat!"

She sucked harder and harder, applying powerful vacuum to his big tasty prick, till Bruce was groaning and dizzy with pleasure, almost losing his balance.

"Christ!" he gasped. "That's enough. You'll make me come before you've had your fun. Let's save that hard-on."

But that plea gave Vicki an idea. If he really wanted her, if he was as horny for her as he said, he'd get another erection. It would be a test—a test she was very eager to administer. She salivated hugely as she thought of eating his cum. She reached around him, cupping his tautly muscled ass, and held him in place, his leaking dick trapped in her mouth and throat.

"Vicki, damnit," he panted helplessly, "let go or I'll shoot my load. I swear to Christ—AHHHHHH!"

Vicki felt a huge blast of hot jism that overflowed her throat and filled her mouth. She swallowed it greedily, making loud sucking and gurgling noises. His convulsing prick went on shooting the thick tasty cream, but she swallowed it as fast as it came. Bruce wailed with pleasure and jerked his squirting cock in her mouth till it was exhausted and limp. Then he staggered back dizzily and sat on the edge of the bed, panting and flushed.

"Vicki!" he chuckled. "I wanted to save that for your hot little pussy. I'm supposed to be proving something, remember? I seem to recall you liked it there..."

"Oh, you can still prove it, lover," Vicki purred. "I'll help you."

Standing in front of him, she stripped off her clothes, drawing her blouse open and letting it slip from her shoulders. She was totally naked underneath—on some level, not wearing the underwear he'd provided had been a silent prayer for just this outcome. Only she'd been hoping that he would find the unused clothing after she left, and be filled with lust for their next meeting. Not that he'd have her at his mercy already!

She saw Bruce's eyes widen in hot appreciation as the outerwear fell to the floor and revealed her magnificent body. She stood there brazenly, a little lusty grin on her face, and let him look. His hot eyes focused on her big melon-sized tits, when their creamy smooth skin and dainty rose-colored nipples. Then his gaze traveled slowly down her sleek curved belly to the pretty little triangle that covered her sex in red. Vicki wantonly thrust her belly forward and parted her legs a little, giving him a peek at her luscious pink slit.

"It's all yours, darling," she purred, "every inch of it, now and forever. You can do anything you want with me, Bruce."

As she spoke, she watched his limp wet prick stiffen and rise into a heavy thick column of hard white flesh.

"Now prove your point," she said.

Bruce's arm snaked out; he grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly to him. She stumbled between his hairy hard thighs, and he closed them to hold her there. He buried his flushed face in her fragrant soft bush, breathing hot and hard. Vicki felt a dizzying wave of lust, her eager pussy creaming a big flood of juice that trickled down her legs.

"Vicki," Bruce teased, "I always thought you were a nice girl."

"I am," Vicki laughed, "and since we've met, I've wanted to be a nice fuck too."

Bruce chuckled. "It was mutual," he said. "The first time we met, I wanted to throw you down on the floor, right there in the press room, and fuck you silly. I guess we haven't been communicating very well, Ms. Vale."

"Let's communicate right now," Vicki suggested wickedly. "What would you like to tell me?"

"This," said Bruce.

He pressed his face into her glossy red muff again and stuck out his long slippery tongue and wriggled it down into the thick fur till he was tickling the small hot nub of her clit. His tongue tip pressed hungrily against the scorching hot button of flesh and flicked eagerly back and forth.

"OHHHHHHH!" Vicki gasped. "Oh, God, YES! Lick my clit darling, I love that more than anything. Oh, my God, YES!"

Bruce's hot slick tongue rimmed lashed and massaged her greedy little nubbin, and Vicki moaned with pleasure. Her aroused pussy creamed more and more, floods gushing down her inner thighs. She swayed dizzily in Bruce's embrace and clawed his shoulders. His lashing tongue thrilled her far more than even the bad girls who'd been bad enough to take her 'hostage.' It was because she'd wanted him for so long. And more than that, she'd had him once already, whetting her appetite even more than he had satisfied it. She thought this delicious anticipation, which he more than lived up to, would last forever with them.

After a few moments of wicked teasing, Bruce emerged from her groin and eased her onto the bed. Vicki didn't need encouragement. She looked at him with wide eyes as he arranged her to his satisfaction. He laid her on her back and stuffed a pillow under her pert little ass, raising up her lovely scarlet pussy. He eased her legs far apart, bending them back at the knees, opening her completely to his scouring gaze.

Vicki felt no shame, no urge to close her legs. She felt that her whole red scorching-hot slit belonged to him and that she wanted him to feast his eyes on it. That was just what he did, hungrily taking in her little jewel of a clit, her plumply swollen pussy lips with their dainty fringe of red hair, the wet shadowed mouth of her cunt, and the little pucker of her asshole.

"Miss Vale," he said solemnly, "how'd you like to have your pussy eaten?"

"I'd love it, Mr. Wayne," she said primly.

Bruce chuckled and knelt between her soft pale thighs. His head dipped down into her steamy exposed pussy, and Vicki creamed hugely just from the excitement of his hot moist breath fanning her aroused gash. Then she felt his firm lips sucking in her fat little clit, sucking it hard and fast and greedily.

"Ohhhhhhhh!" Vicki wailed. "YES!"

She went completely out of control, bucking her hips, screaming, clawing the bed, her hot pussy gushing out to soak his face. Bruce's head bobbed up and down in her crotch as he sucked furiously on her erect and sensitive button. She almost fainted with pleasure, and in a matter of seconds she was having a vicious orgasm.

"Yes, yes, YESSSS!" she wailed. "You're making me come, darling, AHHHHHH!"

No sooner had her spasms died away than Bruce dipped his head even lower in her red-hot soaked slit and she felt his thick long tongue snaking right up her molten cunt. Although she'd just come like crazy, she was instantly aroused again, clenching and squeezing his deep-thrust tongue with the satiny walls of her sex. He tongue-fucked her furiously, the long slippery organ jerking hard and deep in her creamy little hole.

"I can't believe this," Vicki gasped, "but I'm coming again. Oh, ahhhh! OHHHHHHH, YES!"

His tongue kept slamming deliciously inside her as she came, and when she was finished he tongued even lower in her flooded crotch and tickled the small puckered mouth of her anus. Vicki moaned with wicked lust. She screamed with pleasure and nearly rose off the bed as Bruce's slick long tongue crept into her tight little asshole.

"Oh, darling, that's GOOD!" Vicki gasped. "Put your tongue in my ass, YES!"

She wasn't sure how he did it, but in seconds she was having another howling climax. Bruce's thick wet tongue pumped deliciously in her rectum as the wonderful spasms shook her.

Finally she fell back limp and flushed and panting, and he raised his head and flashed her an impish grin.

"I imagine you'd like me to leave now," he teased. "You probably have an article to write."

"Come here, dammit," Vicki laughed, wrapping her arms around him. "You're not getting away till I'm thoroughly fucked."

"Then I guess we'll just have to continue this interview," Bruce laughed, slipping his hands under her little round butt.

As far as Vicki was concerned, this was the moment of truth. His foreplay had been delicious, the best ever, but would his fucking be the kind she had to have? She remembered the other men she'd been with, their gentle slow unsatisfying strokes, the all-too-quick climax. That wouldn't do. She had to be screwed hard, thoroughly, savagely to satisfy all her long pent-up needs.