1 comments/ 14136 views/ 5 favorites Merry Christmas, Detective Gordon By: Kethandra Author's Note: This is a work of parody, inspired by the new TV series Gotham. This is a work of fiction with all characters being well over the age of 18. As an entry in the Winter Holiday contest, as well as my first attempt at FanFic, votes and comments are greatly appreciated. * Detective Jim Gordon was frustrated. It was Christmas Eve, with no last minute calls from the precinct or his partner. In bed with his gorgeous fiancé, Barbara Kean, and she wouldn't even fool around. He'd been falsely arrested, abandoned by his fellow officers, blackmailed, and used as a pawn by contending Mafia bosses. If anybody deserved a little release, it was Jim, but Barbara kept telling him to be patient. Tonight, she almost acted like it was funny. Neither one of them were virgins and he'd recently found out she had previously been involved with another woman but, at Barbara's insistence, they had been taking things very slowly sexually. Tonight she had smiled as she pulled away from his touches and kisses, looking up at him with those stunning eyes that almost always made him give in to her wishes. "Not tonight, Jim. But soon, very soon. I promise." --------- It seemed as though his eyes had just finally closed, his mind and body finally relaxing, when his phone rang: his partner, perpetual cynic Harvey Bullock. Jim listened as he sat up, climbed out of bed and moved over to where his clothes, badge, and holstered weapon waited. A body had been found, near Arkham. One of Fish Mooney's boys. In the bed, Barbara did not stir. "I'll be there in twenty, tops." He ended the call, quickly dressed and headed out. Fish Mooney. Beautiful, sexy, power-hungry and vicious. She wanted Jim dead, for not killing her former attendant - the odd looking fellow she'd called Penguin - as she'd ordered. She drove Jim crazy, her perfect chocolate skin, bright white shark's smile, and cruel, flashing eyes making him crave her desperately, and her amoral, mercenary nature appalling his straight-shooting innocence. He pulled his lapel up against the damp chill of Gotham at midnight in December as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. Immediately, a long dark limousine pulled up to the curb. The tinted back window slid down. "Gordon. We need to talk." He recognized the sultry voice and, against his will, felt a surge in his groin. "Sorry, Fish. I have a previous date." "I know. With Bullock. Near Arkham." She paused to let that sink in. "There is no body near Arkham, Jim. Bullock does what he's told, and I told him what to say. You and I need to talk. Get in." Gordon sighed. He hated being boxed in, manipulated, toyed with. But Fish could be very nasty if provoked and there was an implied threat in her being right here, right where Barbara walked every day. He opened the door and climbed in as the sexy gangster slid over, showing him smooth brown legs finally disappearing under the short skirt of her black leather dress, the intricately boned bodice displaying her upper body like a corset. Fish leaned back with her trademark sneer on her full lips, her long red nails drumming lightly on the back of the leather seat. He noticed the black leather choker she wore around her neck, cut out in an intricate lace-like pattern. He had never seen her without some kind of accent around her shapely neck, and Gordon always found it distractingly eye-catching. As soon as he closed the door, the limo slid forward. He sat facing back toward her in the spacious limo, rather than taking the seat next to her that she seemed to be offering. "Okay, Fish. What's the emergency?" She didn't answer immediately. Instead, her far hand found a switch near her arm rest. A solid steel panel slid up behind Jim, covering the thick looking plexiglass that already separated them from the driver. Fish leaned back, watching him. The slightest of smiles on her lips. Her left leg, not long but beautifully formed and immaculately smooth, was crossed over the other, her stiletto-heeled foot circling inches from his knee. "There is an emergency, Detective. But first, I want to set the scene." "What scene is that?" Gordon growled. "Your scene." The gangster paused. "You're an honest man, Jim Gordon. An honest cop. That makes you rare. And vulnerable. "An honest cop who lied to me. That makes me angry. If I had my way, Detective, you'd be dead by now or dying. But there are reasons to keep you alive. "Interesting address you were exiting this evening, Jim. I believe the Keans own that building. Doesn't their only child, a rather pretty girl, live there? Wait, aren't you engaged to the Kean girl?" Gordon looked ready to chew nails. He clenched his jaw. "What is it you want, Mooney?" She smiled at that. "Please, call me Fish." "What's your point? Fish." "See, isn't that better?" The detailing of her fitted dress pressed her breasts up and together, the top curves showing above the black leather. Fish now reached up with both hands and released a hidden fastener. The top several inches of the dress opened down the center, adding the curving inner sides of her lovely chocolate breasts to his view. She continued. "I can't kill you, but I can make you suffer. I can hurt you the most by..." "Don't you touch Barbara!" He couldn't hold back even as he knew she was provoking him. Even in his anger, he couldn't keep his eyes from betraying him and dropping down to peek at her new distraction. Fish smiled. When she spoke her voice was like Single-Malt Scotch, so smooth it burned. "I don't want to hurt her, Jim. I don't want to hurt you. Much." She leaned forward, rested one hand on his leg just above the knee. Her two-inch long red nails seemed another unspoken threat. Uneasy, he looked away from her hand on him, only to have his eyes again find her chest before jumping to her now amused gaze. "But there is that emergency you asked about." Not trusting his voice as he suddenly found his mouth dry, Gordon remained silent. Against his will, he felt his cock beginning to swell. "You heard Nikolai was unfortunately killed during Maroni's attack on Don Falcone's warehouse?" Gordon nodded. His eyes followed her other hand, the one not lightly stroking his leg, as it slid up to her sternum, her thumb stroking languidly between her breasts. "That's the emergency, Jim. Nikolai was a damn good fuck, and one I could trust. I could trust him because he would throw me under the bus in a heartbeat and knew I'd do the same to him. No love. No like, even." "I truly don't want to hurt Barbara, Jim, and I won't ask you to kill anyone else for me." Unconsciously, he was already starting to lean toward her, between her touch and the show she was putting on. "But I do want something from you, Detective." She rose out of her seat like a snake uncoiling. Reaching out, she ran her hands back through his short hair, and drew his face toward hers. Her lips were parted, shining, inviting, inches from his own. They came together, unsure who had made the first final move. He pulled her onto his lap, the skirt of her dress riding up, as their tongues and lips met. He felt her teeth snag his lip and pull, biting down to where he thought it must bleed. He crushed her against himself with both strong arms. Her nails were painful on his back even through his coat. His hands reached down to her legs, slid up to her hips under her short skirt. They found nothing but smooth skin. She pushed back away from him but he held her hips in place. Fish shoved her arms down in the new space between them, fingers groping at his groin. Realizing what she was doing, Gordon released his hold. She slipped down onto the floor between his legs, scrabbling to undo his belt and open his fly. Roughly, she tugged his waist band down over his hips. His cock stood out, thick and straight. Fish Mooney spit. She spit like a pro, a nice healthy wad flying straight before splatting thickly onto the head of his cock. A red-taloned hand spread the lubricant more evenly with a couple of firm strokes. Gordon groaned as he pushed up into her grip. When Fish tried to regain her feet, Gordon moved into her, pushing her off balance. She stumbled back, twisting to catch herself on the seat she'd first sat in. His hands on her hips helped her complete the turn and eased her down, her back now against his chest. He let his weight press her into the soft leather of the cushion. When he sat back up, crouched behind her, he stared at her bare ass revealed by the dress shoved up over her hips. He pulled her back into him, letting his very slippery cock slide between her legs and against her wetness. She felt him tilt his hips so that his head angled up against her. "No." Surprising him, she torqued her small body beneath him in one explosive effort until she was facing him, but with both legs still to one side. "I don't do it that way. Too demeaning." Fish stretched her toned brown arms up toward him. Like a dancer she drew her top leg up, extended and somehow gracefully passed it between the two of them, stroking his forehead with her ankle as it passed. She looked up at him, her legs spread and dress pushed up over her hips, exposing her smooth shaven lips below a precisely groomed heart. Old school. He liked that. Too demeaning! Jim felt his anger and frustration peak again. Once again, boxed in, his loved one threatened, somebody he didn't like making him do something he didn't want to...shouldn't do. "Demeaning?" It was almost a growl. "Getting fucked from behind?" He was louder now. "Getting fucked in your job, getting fucking blackmailed, getting your family threatened for doing the fucking right thing. That's demeaning!" Gordon grabbed her ankles and pulled them wide. His hard cock pushed at her, roughly seeking entry. Her eyes searched his face wildly as she groaned. "Not too demeaning?" He spit out the question, pulling her ankles wider and higher. Her smile had more sneer than joy. "No. This is fine." Gordon pushed her legs back over her, bending her knees. He hooked each bent knee in the crook of an elbow before reaching down and gasping each arm just below the shoulder. His weight rested on his fists, pinning her arms down, holding her legs wide. His cock slid over her slippery lips, swollen hood. She tried to lift her hips up against him, but could hardly move. Again changing angles, the head slipped inside. "Not too demeaning?" She was pinned. Held down and held open. Turned on by a strong man not doing what she wanted or expected. She smiled; shook her head. "No. Not too demeaning." Gordon fucked her then. No more teasing. He pounded into her, angry, chest heaving, in control for once. It felt good to hold her down like this, trapped under him. The sound of each thrust into her was a wet slap as his balls swung into her ass cheeks. Both balls and cheeks shone with her juices when he pulled back to pound in again, nearly folding her in two with each forward lunge. He could smell the animal scent of their sex in the closed back of the limo. Her eyes were bright looking up at him. He could see tension growing across her face. She was nearing her climax and he knew it. Her back began to arch as her brow furrowed and a more frantic groan escaped her. Gordon stopped. "Wha..? Don't stop now! I'm almost cumming, you bastard!" He smiled down at her now, with his own sneer. "Do you want to cum, Fish?" "Of course, you idiot!" Her sneer back up at him had lost its power. Do you want me to make you cum?" He started to rub his cock inside her again. Ever so slightly. She moaned. "Yes, dammit." She hissed through her clenched white teeth. "Ask for it." "What?" Her eyes blazed in anger. "Ask for it." Gordon pulled back until he slipped out of her, then pushed forward to rub himself between her slippery, open lips and over the swollen hood covering her sensitive button. She was so wet. "Beg for it." He moved his right hand to the ornate collar she wore like a choker. He grabbed the front of it and twisted, pressing down on the base of her throat as he did. Her eyes bulged. Releasing her other arm, he reached down with his left hand and pumped his own wet shaft, pressing the head against her and then into her. He pulled back out and stuck fingers into her, scooping more of her moisture onto his cock. He could see more of her thick juices oozing down into the crack of her smooth chocolate ass. He pushed the head again into her, then moved his hand to where the two of them came together. His thumb started to circle her hood, feeling her swollen clit slip from side to side underneath. She was struggling to breath as he still held her collar, but pushed her hips up toward his hand now. He eased the pressure on her throat. She gasped. "Beg me for it, Fish. That's all you have to do." So soothing, his voice was. So calm. She didn't realize he was imitating her speech now. "You'll cum like you've never let yourself cum before." He twisted her choker again. She tried to speak. He eased the pressure once more. "Please." Her whisper was harsh. "Please what, Fish?" "Please, fuck me." "I already did that, Fish." She sneered again, then resigned herself to the situation. Her teeth showed clearly as she enunciated. "Please, Detective Gordon, fuck me til I cum." He pushed in. Out . In. Agonizingly slow. "Yes. Yes, please fuck me til I cum." She was right there almost immediately. "Please, quit teasing me, fuck me. Make me cum." "Demeaning enough for you, Fish?" She smiled as he stroked slowly in and out. Another sneer. "No. Not too demeaning, Detective." He pulled all the way out of her. She looked surprised. "You want to cum, Fish? You want me to make you cum?" He positioned the tip of his cock up against her tiny ass, slippery with her juices. "Let's see if this is demeaning enough. Cum on my cock, bitch." He forced the head into her tiny hole. Her eyes went wide as a surprised gasp escaped her lips. "Cum while I fuck your tight little ass." He grabbed both ankles again and lifted them high, rearing back to shove his cock as hard as he could into Fish's tight, unready ass. ---------- Jim Gordon sat up in bed, completely alert, his heart racing. Barbara stirred next to him. Still sleepy, she wrapped her arms around his waist as he tried to separate dream from reality. Her forearm brushed against his achingly hard cock. She gasped. She reached out, tracing her hand lightly up and down the shaft. Jim groaned, still half anticipating forcing his way into the dream-Fish's reluctant opening, her torso arching up toward him as her orgasm began to roll over her against her will. "Is this because of me?" Barbara whispered. She wrapped her fingers around it, starting to pump slowly. Jim groaned again, his body tense. "Barbara, please. You don't have to..." "Shh, Jim." She whispered, her voice low and throaty. "Yes, I do. I have to." She had lowered her head toward him as she spoke, finishing with her lips hovering a fraction of an inch over his swollen glans, one hand still rhythmically pumping him. She licked languidly, teasing his slit, tasting the slick drop of precum her pumping and his dream had produced. Gordon flopped back on the bed with a loud, almost tortured moan. With her lips still millimeters from him, she whispered again. "I have to, Jim. My strong, honest man is all turned on next to me. The handsomest, most honorable man I've ever known has this wonderful hard-on just because of me." She lowered her head and briefly sucked his tip into her wet mouth, causing another moan as Gordon felt the moist hungry heat radiating from her. He was glad she had no idea it was not just because of her, but because of dark, sensuous Fish Mooney, writhing beneath him, large white teeth biting into her own full red lower lip, her long, immaculately polished nails clenching the seat cushion beneath her as he stretched her open. "I can't help it, Jim." Beside him in the bed, he felt Barbara's hips hump toward him. "I have to." Barbara took him into her mouth again. He lifted his head off the pillow to watch. In the dim illumination provided by Gotham's nighttime skyline through the copious glass wrapping their penthouse apartment outside the bedroom door, Gordon could see Barbara bending over him. Her hair appeared even redder than usual in this light. Almost luminous as it hung down, partially hiding her face, softly caressing his thighs with its silky weightless touch. Barbara still wore her thin silk nightgown, but one shoulder strap had slipped down and Gordon could clearly see one beautiful pale breast hanging exposed as she started to bob up and down on him. Again he wordlessly expressed his pleasure from deep in his throat. This time it was almost as much from the sight of her breast as from the feeling of her mouth taking more of him in. From the way they strained against her silk blouses when she didn't wear a bra to the response he got teasing and tasting her perfect pink nipples, Jim was infatuated with Barbara's beautiful breasts. Barbara pushed herself down on him, taking more of him into her mouth. He felt his swollen head meet the back of her throat. Only rarely did she do more than lick his head a few times, and when she had sucked him, it had ended whenever she had gagged even slightly. This time he waited for the inevitable retreat, thankful for the unusually thorough sucking he'd gotten already. Instead, his felt his tip again contact the opening to her throat. Unbelievably, Barbara continued to push, her breaths quickening through her nose as he began to slip in, deeper than she had ever taken him. He felt his balls tighten, more from the thought of her taking him this way than the actual sensation. His mind still clung to snippets of Fish, wet and panting as he held her pinned beneath him. "Barbara." He was surprised at how stained and rasping his voice sounded. "I'm almost there." She had never swallowed his cum, preferring that he come on his own belly, or occasionally, on her chest. "Barbara!" He warned again, not wanting to ruin this moment by pissing her off with an unexpected mouthful. Her only response was a hungry moaning sound, vibrating up his shaft. That was all it took. He grabbed twin handfuls of sheet and mattress as his hips thrust toward the ceiling. He cried out in release. His balls contracted hard before he exploded upward, a bright white flash behind his eyes. Vaguely, he heard Barbara's choking sounds mingled between slurps and groans. Then he felt cool air on his tingling, wet cock just before she gasped in air through her mouth. He raised his head again, in time to see her wiping thick mucus from her nose, tears flowing freely down both cheeks. Her breath came raggedly, but she still managed to smile up at him. "Merry Christmas, Jim." "Barbara." Gordon was still nearly in shock and had trouble forming thoughts or words. "That was the best present ever." "Present?" She managed to sound surprised as she crawled up next to him, pressing close, still sniffling. "That wasn't your present, Detective Gordon. Let's rest for a while, honey. I want to make sure you've got your strength up before you get your real present." As she spoke she ground herself against him, hinting at the gift to come. He felt her warm breath before her lips gently tugged his ear. He barely heard her whisper, "I hope it's not too tight." As Barbara's breathing slowed to a rhythmic sleeping pattern next to him, Jim Gordon stared at the ceiling. He hoped he could sleep, but doubted it. Never, even as a child, had time seemed to tick so slowly toward Christmas morning, as visions of things far naughtier than sugar plums danced through his head.