Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5835910.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Batman_(Millerverse), Batman_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Batman/Robin, Dick_Grayson/Bruce_Wayne, Dick_Grayson/Vicki_Vale, Vicki
      Vale/Bruce_Wayne
  Character:
      Bruce_Wayne, Dick_Grayson, Vicki_Vale
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome_-_F/M/M, Edgeplay, Identity_Porn, Humiliation, Cunnilingus,
      Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-01-27 Words: 7046
****** Non-Disclosure ******
by kleine_aster
Summary
     A night between the sheets with Batman and Robin – what self-
     respecting reporter would say no to that? Answer: all of them, but
     that’s not gonna stop Vicki Vale.
Notes
     This was sitting in my drafts forever (it’s actually older than In
     Dreams), and it never really turned out the way I wanted. But I was
     in an ASBAR mood lately, so I finally finished it. Have a weird
     threeway!
There’s always been chatter around Vicki’s office regarding Batman’s cock.
She figures that it’s not surprising, really. Batman, he’s a hot commodity in
the Gotham newsrooms – and as with all hot commodities, at some point, the
conversation runs into the gutter.
Vicki’s heard all kinds of things. Some say he doesn’t even have a dick,
because he’s not a man, he’s a shadowy being, molded directly from the grit and
grime of Crime Alley. Some insist that he’s a monster – ten feet tall and
covered in fur, like that poor Grayson kid had said before he’d vanished off
the face of the planet (presumably eaten by Batman) – so he must be built like
one, too, down there. That theory always draws a lot of attention from the
ladies and, honestly, from the gents too.
Personally, Vicki Vale has always scoffed at all of that.
“Listen”, she’d say. “I know he cuts a nice, scary figure in those rags, but
he’sclearly  a madman in a unitard. A man. He’s got nothing we haven’t seen
before.”
And now, as they’re naked on a bed (by the by, it hadn’t been a unitard), and
she feels him pressed up firmly against her ass cheeks, she finds to her
satisfaction that she’s been, once more, proven right. He’s got a nice, rigid,
human cock down there, right where it should be, though you could probably call
it “a monster” if you really wanted to. The thought makes her smile with pink-
painted lips.
“Something funny, V?” He gravels right next to her ear in his rough, never-kind
voice. “Everything to your liking?”
Instead of waiting for her reply, he rubs a hand down between her legs, draws a
warm, calloused finger across the wet, plump outline of her pussy, nudging the
tip of her smooth, swollen clit only ever so slightly. It sends a pinch of
honey-coated lust through her system and she gasps, parting her legs while he
parts her red hair to kiss the back of her neck. Yeah, he may come across like
a thug-pummeling brute, and he may actlike he doesn’t know how to act, but
there’s something beneath that; he clearly knows what he’s doing, and it
touches on some of the suspicions she has, and that makes her even more
excited.
“You be the judge of that, honey,” she purrs, and hears him groan when she
squeezes her buttocks against him (human, all right). She reaches back to put
an arm around his thick neck. “Aren’t you a master detective?”
He huffs, but then he makes her gasp again when he bends her right over, and
she starts panting in anticipation of his cock entering her. But that’s not
what happens; because his next words are not directed at her.
“Go ahead, junior.” His voice grows lower and wickeder than before, making it
sound almost like a dare. “Touch ‘em. I know you want to.”
Vicki knows that he’s referring to both her heavy, dangling breasts, and the
teenager who’s splayed out beneath her with his face all red and his stiff
prick throbbing eagerly against her inner thigh. The sight and feel of it
almost makes up for Batman throwing around terrifying monikers.
She turns her attention to Robin and sees him succeed at looking her in the
face, even though it obviously takes him some effort.
He sounds breathless. But he’s got manners. “Can I really, Miss Vale?”
His voice has a nervous squeak to it, but it’s still deeper than she remembers
it from that night at the circus. Of course it is; it’s been a few years. How
old had he been, again?
“Y’know,” she playfully tilts her head at him. “I think we’re at a point where
it’s okay for you to call me ‘Vicki’, Dick.”
The nervous, semi-excited smile drops off his face. He begins to stammer. “I-
I’m not - ”
“He’s not -” Batman protests hoarsely, at the same time.
“Oh, come on, boys.” She turns her head to waggle her eyebrows at the man
behind her. “Do you really wanna get into that now, Dark Knight Detective?”
“No.”
Batman’s answer sounds morose. But then he gets his head back in the game,
making her moan and wriggle again when he strokes her thighs with strong,
expert hands.
She’s the only one in bed who’s not wearing a mask, and it’s a little kooky;
and the boy’s a little young for her tastes, too. But she wouldn’t be the
Gotham Gazette’s top investigator if she were squeamish about dirtying her …
hands, so there’s that.
She peeks down at the apprentice again, when he pipes up.
“V- … Miss … um. D'you mind, not calling me that name ‘n all?“ He lets out a
shy, fluttery little laugh before he almost timidly starts cupping her breasts
with his hands. “I might keep calling you ‘Miss Vale’, though, if that’s okay.”
His voice turns breezy, distracted by what his hands are doing. “I think I
sorta like it.”
"I’ll allow it.”
She grins at him. Well, she can appreciate it when people bring fresh ideas to
the table.
Her smile falters when he digs his inexperienced fingers into the soft flesh of
her breasts as if they’re dough. Vicki frowns, tensing. Totally Not Dick
Grayson may be a hotshot up-and-coming vigilante, but he does what every horny
teenager does when presented with a set of boobs: clumsily smushing and
squeezing them, like they’re produce, completely captivated by their properties
and texture. She’s about to click her tongue and tell him he’s doing it wrong,
when he suddenly shoots up and starts fondling and kissing them, which is much
better, much better. She coos in agreement, throws her head back, runs her
fingers through his sweaty, curly dark hair as she directs his attention to one
of her erect, rosy nipples. He gives her a few curious flicks of his tongue,
like he’s testing something, then he puts his warm mouth on her, and sucks. It
makes her weak in the knees; she feels herself sagging on top of him, which
causes her wet, open slit to collide with the tender tip of his cock. The
contact is warm and welcome, making her groan while her juices melt into his.
Boy Wonder flinches as if he’s burned himself on something hot and delicious,
then looks up at her, lips reddened, face flushed and hopeful.
“…Yes?” He breathes, eager for her approval, eager to hear he’s doing something
right. And when she nods and sighs, “Nhn. Yes,” he beams, and buries his face
in her chest again.
Vicki stirs when she realizes that, despite of how hard his cock is, it’s less
sleazy than it is needy. It’s not strictly about his mouth and her tits, or
even about his erection prodding her nether regions; there’s a real need there,
a need for something warm and soft. A desire to be held by a woman, an older
woman. He releases an uncontrolled, hoarse moan, and her skin crawls with
gooseflesh when she remembers that he saw his mother die, and now he’s hugging
her, but he’s also licking her nipples at the same time, and it gets all mixed-
up and awkward for a second. But it makes sense, she figures. When you spend
your nights (and probably your days) in the presence of a maniac with a hard-on
for justice who wears an armored bat costume, softness and warmth are probably
in short supply. She has no way of knowing, but she presumes that Batman
doesn’t turn into a basket of kittens once the cowl comes off.
Speaking of which; the hooded stranger behind her hasn’t made a move in a
while, nothing to remind her of his presence if it wasn’t for his sizeable rod
still pressing itself hard against the small of her back. But now he’s closing
in again, massaging her spine, nibbling her shoulder, producing a low growl
that sounds like what Vicki imagines a happy wolf sounds like. She shivers,
digging her fingers deeper into Not Dick Grayson’s skinny shoulders so she
doesn’t fall over. Batman’s got good lips. Good breath. Good teeth. Wherever
he’s from, Crime Alley it’s not; she’s almost sure of that.
The Caped Crusader pays no attention to his teenaged partner while he’s toying
with her, but Boy Wonder is a different story. Robin’s eyes roll upward behind
his mask while his lips are busy sucking on her, and she realizes that he’s
closely watching what his mentor is doing. Perhaps it’s an eagerness to learn,
perhaps it’s something else; in any case, it’s simultaneously weird and
titillating. He never neglects her, however, treats her to his tongue and lips
until the tips of her fingers are tingling and her toes are curling, and the
need to sit on his cock starts to basically ooze out of her. And when he lets
go of her breasts to softly, sweetly kiss her neck, she shudders and realizes
that he not only has a real need for tenderness, he also has a talent for it, a
potential that’s probably wasted in whatever he’s doing now. It makes her want
to rub herself on him even more.
Biting her lip, she lowers herself down on him, slowly, gently, allowing him
the slightest bit of entrance, just the tip. Robin squirms underneath her
before he suddenly starts looking desperate, his hands turning into fists and
his mouth opening to let out a gasp  –
“Not yet.”
Vicki turns around to glare at the vigilante who’s spoken up. “Excuse me?”  
“Not yet,” Batman repeats, almost casually. “I want him to learn.”
She hears a little whimper coming from underneath her. Vicki furrows her brow.
She’s annoyed, but almost despite herself, she’s also impressed at how cold
Batman is while he’s sharing a bed with a foxy redhead (if she does say so
herself) and a cute horny youth. She wonders if he even needs to get off, or if
watching them get off is all he needs. Scratch that; he doesn’t seem too
concerned with his boy assistant getting off, either.
“Vicki,” he says next, and she hates what he can do with his smooth, deep
voice, making her name sound so tasty. “Vicki. Lie down on your back, please.”
He turns to the boy next, for the first time since he’s prompted him to touch
her. “Do what I told you,” he drawls. Robin doesn’t get a 'please’.
The boy sits up and shoots his mentor a dirty glare, his sweet excitement
replaced by petulance. “I was gonna do it, y'know,” he complains brattily, but
he looks flustered.
“Good.” There’s a note of deadpan sarcasm in Batman’s voice, and Vicki begins
to suspect that this is how they always communicate, “Then get to it.”
"I don’t like your tone,” Vicki scolds the Dark Knight ('cause someone has to),
but curiosity gets the better of her, and she dismounts the boy and rolls over
on her back, anyway. When Robin crawls between her open legs, still pouting,
she knows exactly what Batman has told him to do.
Boy, that must’ve been one awkward briefing in their hideout, wherever that
was.
He looks disgruntled, but his movements are gentle when he nudges her thighs
apart. His frown disappears when he starts eyeing what’s between her legs with
interest. It’s obvious that it was Batman’s attitude that pissed him off, not
the task itself. It dawns on Vicki now that she’s being used as some sort of
teaching object, and she’s not sure she likes it. But the boy’s perky
expression as he examines her anatomy keeps her interested, for now.
He gets on all fours, and then, adorably, bends down and kisses her pussy
before drawing his curious tongue across it. Vicki squirms, biting her lip. The
reality of Totally Not Dick Grayson licking her there is so weird that her clit
grows shy and retreats for a moment. But the kid’s either gotten some useful
tips fromsomeone, or he’s got a natural taste for it, in any case, he goes
straight to work on drawing it out again with diligent flicks of his tongue.
She can feel the muscles in her thighs contract under his grip. Before she
knows it, she’s tightening, loosening, quivering. A small whine forms on her
lips, and can’t be suppressed. There’s a wet, eager “Mmmh,” in response from
the boy working between her legs. In the background, the Bat has fallen so
quiet you’d think he’d turned to stone.
“Dontstop,” she crows, teeth clenching. He’s gotten her hard again, his tongue
lapping at her is tickling, itching, edging, and the build-up is glorious, but
he’s not skilled enough to really tide her over, and it’s driving her eyes into
the back of her head, driving her nuts. Not Dick Grayson whimpers when she
tears at his hair in her frustration. There’s no new orders coming in from
Batman, so Vicki takes over, tries to guide him through it. Faster. Slower.
There. There. The boy is a ferocious student, and she would usually appreciate
someone eating her out for so long; but he’s both too eager and too clumsy,
locking her in a torturous state of almost-coming that has her vibrating on the
bed. More than once, he comes close, so close to giving her a wet, screaming
orgasm, and the sharp plunge in arousal makes her wail every time. Soon, her
voice starts edging desperation, and she hates that Batman gets to see and hear
all this. Throughout it, she can tell that the kid’s still taking his task
seriously; he follows her moaned orders without question; if he’s getting
exhausted or impatient, he doesn’t complain.
She’s almost wondering about his stamina (as far as she’s still forming
thoughts), which seems unusual in someone his age, when she feels a sharp
intake of breath against her hot, swollen flesh. He goes from shaking to
convulsing, and then his face flies out of her wet pussy, distorted by lust and
strain.
“I c-cant - ”, he pants, “I – ’m gonna -”
She wonders why he’s so alarmed about shooting his load (seems like the point
of this whole exercise, doesn’t it), when his mentor’s voice cuts through his
mewling like a cracking whip.
“You’re not done.”
And then, he sounds vaguely personable for the first time when he calmly and
soothingly repeats, “Do what I told you.”
The boy writhes, but then Vicki watches him reach down and give himself a
squeeze and a tug, which somehow staves off the inevitable. He doubles over,
looking as if he’s about to cry. But then, his breathing goes back to normal,
and he’s still hard, and the first thing he does is cast a hateful look at his
boss andwait, he’d taught him that? What type of conversations do these two
have, anyway?
“What’d I say; you get nothing before she gets something,” Batman scolds him,
back to his usual sunny self.
Vicki shoots him a dirty look, still flat on her back, sweat shimmering between
her breasts. If she’d known he’d be that way, she would’ve gotten both the kid
and herself off with a few flicks of her wrist. “You sadist creep,” she pants.
His dark, almost gentle laugh sends a shiver down her spine. “He’s used to it.”
That makes her feel even worse for the beginner in the bed. She gives Robin a
gentle nudge with her foot, which prompts him to look at her with dazed eyes.
His cheeks are bright red, and the mix of arousal and frustration on his face
is almost funny.
“You didn’t, um…?” He asks her hoarsely, “W-when you were, uh, squealing,
wasn’t that…?”
She hears a low chuckle coming from the sidelines. “She was squealing a lot,”
Batman observes. “What, you thought you’re so good you made her come twenty
times?”
Robin looks embarrassed. Vicki rolls her eyes. What an arrogant prick. Of
coursethe boy wouldn’t know what it looks like.
She sighs, voice sore from the exertion, and reaches down to scratch Not Dick
Grayson behind the ear, “It’s all right, honey. It’s hard to get right the
first time. You felt great.”
He grimaces, her juices still smeared all over his young face. But then he
timidly smiles at her with raw, swollen lips. “You smell good, Miss Vale,” he
says.
“How’s she taste?”
They both look over at Batman. There seems to be even more gravel in his voice
now, but he still hasn’t moved, doesn’t even touch himself despite the state of
his dick. His massive erection looks downright intimidating, and the kid isn’t
the only one who’s oozing precome. Yet the Bat’s demeanor is as cold as when
they’d started.
“You can’t compliment a lady’s scent, then not comment on her taste,” he
lectures Not Dick Grayson, and nothing on his stony face gives away what a kick
he’s getting out of it. “Not while you’re doing what you’re doing. Go on. Tell
her.”
“Um…”
The teen’s face falls a little, and he becomes even more flushed, which seems
technically impossible. “It’s, uh, it’s okay,” he says meekly, shooting her an
anxious look.
That’s when Batman touches him for the first time, when he gives him a swat on
the ass. “Rude.”
Robin snarls at him, and for a moment, it almost seems as if the duo is going
to get into a fight over her naked body. Vicki raises her eyebrows. The break
in the action has made her cool off a little, allowing her to think more
clearly. There’s aweird vibe going on with them. Earlier, when she’d gone into
the hotel bathroom to get ready, she’d heard them bicker on the bed, and she
almost thinks she heard some ruffling of clothes, some touching of mouths. But
she’s not sure. She’s tempted to ask the Dynamic Duo to give her a show, just
to see what would happen. But considering Batman’s temper, that could go South
right quick.
Anyway, she’s had it with his attitude.
“Come here,” she hisses, crawls over and grabs Batman, before the two masked
fellas can break out in fisticuffs. She throws her arm around him and puts her
lips on his cruel, nasty mouth, slipping him her tongue to keep him occupied.
But she only does it so that she can grab his balls with her other hand, and
dig her sharp nails in.
He doesn’t react in the way she expected. His body heavily rocks against hers,
and the rugged moan he gives her indicates he isn’t averse to some pain in that
area.
He smirks when he sees her baffled expression, but she’s not gonna get
distracted this time.
“Listen to me,” she whispers against his hot mouth, and she can feel his cock
twitch at that, “You hit that boy one more time in front of me, and I will not
only end this, I will tell everyone about it, and baby, I don’t even care if my
reputation takes a hit … again. Understood?”
She hears a stifled groan in the background. Either Not Dick Grayson has a
fetish for people abusing Batman’s junk, or he just really, really likes it
when someone sticks up for him. Or both.
Vicki glares when she sees Batman’s twisted smirk deepen. She’s tempted to
press her nails in deeper, but she has a feeling that he’d just be into it.
“You think I’m kidding, you freak?”
“No.” His rough lips lazily trail hers while he talks, “I’m just pleased with
myself for choosing you, Vicki.”
He leans into her as if he’s going to kiss her again, but instead, he takes her
by the neck and strokes it while he whispers to her, viciously, poisonously.
“What,now it’s getting a little too weird for you? Now you think this is crazy?
No. You knew what it’d be, you knew from the start and yet you went in anyway,
you wanted it so bad you even signed those papers I gave you, and you are not
the type to turn back now.” And now he’s daring her.
She squirms in his grip, trying, and failing, to pretend that his menace
doesn’tturn her on, while her juices are uncontrollably flowing out of her.
They glare at each other, panting like a pair of mad dogs, and now that she’s
got him up close, she realizes that he’s not any less horny than she or Robin
are. His hardened body is burning against hers, smelling like leather and
testosterone. Despite his superior grin, she can tell how hard-up he is for an
outlet, how badly he wants to bend someone over and fuck them.
She’s wondering whom, though.
With a husky laugh, she lets go of his balls to lightly draw her fingers across
the length of his thick, long cock, and the muscles in his loins clench up so
tightly it looks painful. Something rumbles in his throat. He can pretend all
he likes, but he’s sweating desire, it’s impossible to miss. Robin would know
it, too, if his mentor didn’t keep him so distracted by ways of torture. She
licks a bead of sweat off his stubbly chin and shoots him a grim, mocking smile
before she turns away.
“Might as well have fun then, right,” she says, and grabs young Robin again.
He lets out a confused “Yeah…?” when she pushes him down on his back,
simultaneously thrilled and terrified to be given attention again. His bright
blue eyes almost pop out of his head while he watches her tall, curvy form come
over him. It’s been a while since he’s eaten her out so nicely, but she’s still
ready to receive him.
He gazes in his mentor’s direction, then back at her.
“’m not supposed to,” he mumbles, as if he’s telling her he’s not supposed to
have a cookie before dinner. He’s completely still between her thighs, anxious
that the next touch is going to set him off.
She tosses back her long hair for additional flourish, and opens her legs for
him. “Question is, do you want to?”
This time, he doesn’t peek at Batman for permission. He looks as if he’s going
to burst into tears for a couple moments, then he nods very emphatically.
“Good.” she gives him a gentle pat on his smooth, heaving chest, then puts his
sweaty hands on her hips. “Then let me make you a man.”
Make him a man. It’s stupid macho bullshit, but she calculates it’s exactly the
type of stupid macho bullshit that’ll hit Batman right in his aching nuts, and
she’s all about that now. That, and throwing this poor kid a fucking bone
already.
“If he doesn’t like it,” she whispers, breath hitching when her flesh teases
his again, “He can take it up with me.”
Batman makes no attempt to stop her. She figured he wouldn’t, since on some
level, despite all those bullshit rules he may have made, he wants to watch.
But as soon as the boy is about to enter her, Vicki hears the man hiss at him,
“Careful now.”
His tone is sardonic, but now that she’s more aware, she can hear the barely
disguised want in it. “Don’t blow it, kiddo. Control yourself. You’re too young
to become a father, wouldn’t you say.”
She stops and shudders at what a pig he is. Then she sees Not Dick Grayson’s
hurt and frightened expression, and realizes that it’s just another little
cruelty tailor-made for him. Which … doesn’t make it any less gross. Vicki
reaches down and feels around for him, catching him on the verge of getting
soft. She leans down to nip at the boy’s lips. “Don’t listen to him,” she
mutters, nudging his face for encouragement. “I’m on the pill. Just 'cause he
doesn’t know to have fun, doesn’t mean that we can’t.”
Not Dick Grayson looks unsure at first, but then his eyes light up and a
sudden, mad, rascally smile flits across his face. It’s hard to tell what
excites him more, the prospect of fucking her, or the idea of doing what he’s
not supposed to. Either way, it works. He inhales, and she can feel him grow to
full hardness between her thighs again. His grip around her hips grows firm
when she pushes herself down on him.
Her mouth falls open with a drawn-out groan. He fills her out nicely, spreading
her open in a way that extends the sensation right to her stiff, pulsing clit.
She closes her eyes, whining softly. She wants to get herself off, now, but she
waits patiently until she feels his body settle down underneath her.
She coos with satisfaction when the next thing she hears isn’t a taunt from
Batman, but Robin whispering, “That’s … good…”
And for a change, Batman doesn’t have a smartass retort to that.
Vicki does. “Don’t sound so surprised,” she chirps, before she starts sliding
up and down his length.
It’s like doing it with a surfboard, at first. His cock is good for it, but he
lies motionless, staring at her with large, startled eyes. He flinches whenever
she slams down on him, uttering the tiniest of whimpers every time. The level
of control is commendable, but right now, it’s kinda killing her buzz.
“This ain’t a stealth mission,” she pants.
“Nhn,” he retorts, sounding pained.
“Come on, I know you can move, I’ve seen you on TV,” Vicki groans, growing
impatient, and somewhere Batman’s laughing.
“Relax…”
Her shaky voice turns softer, and she extends one hand to cradle his face,
stroking herself with the other to reach her peak quicker, because now she
really craves it. “I-it’s fine, we can- aah!”
It’s that laugh. It’s Batman’s damn laugh that injects life into the boy’s
quivering hips, causes him to thrust up and into her, making her cry out when
she receives his entire length. She squirms, clenching down on him until he
mewls again, but it feels so good, and when she looks down at him, he looks
really angry, but not at her.
“G-good,” she hisses at him, like a satisfied teacher; or one who’s about to be
satisified, at the least.
“Yeah,” he hisses back at her, his face clenched and fierce with defiance.
He puts his hands on her tits again, more confidently this time, and Vicki
welcomes the touch with another moan as she starts working her own hand between
her legs again. Her other hand she presses soothingly onto his stomach, forcing
him to give it to her in a firm, steady rhythm until he’s doing it, reallydoing
it for her, and she lets him know, rocking and gasping and moaning, and then,
and then -
They wail in unison when two large, firm hands grab her abruptly from behind,
bringing their rutting to a sharp halt. Robin howls as if he’s getting his arm
twisted, and Vicki hisses like a wounded cat, stopped dead on her climb to the
top. It seems as if their game master has finally decided he wants to play.
What a wretched buzzkill he is.
“Ah, ah, ah,” she warns him, struggling to keep the pre-orgasmic shivers out of
her voice, when she feels his big, hard piece pressed up against her ass again.
“You don’t really think I’d let you stick it in there now, do you really, you
bastard? You can’t be that stupid. I’ve partied with Gotham politicians, but a
girl’s got her limits.”
She reaches back to pinch him, hard, and hears him respond with that pleased
growl she’s become familiar with. His hot, oddly nice-smelling breath is
grazing her neck.
He presses another kiss on her. “Don’t worry,” he assures her, in a tone that
makes her believe it. The rough tips of his fingers are teasing her sensitive
nipples, which means he and the boy are not touching hands over her tits, but
then Not Dick Grayson’s nimble fingers relent to let his master…his mentor
squeeze and pinch her. Vicki’s eyelids flutter and she lets out a sigh while he
caresses her down with his good hands. She doesn’t really want to like it,
after hearing the disgusting garbage that came out of his mouth, but those
hands.
Not Dick Grayson watches them as if he’s mesmerized. He looks completely strung
out by this point, his eyes glazed and empty, his lips open and dry, as if he’s
gonna pass out if they don’t finish him off soon. When he sees the older man
lean in, he starts shivering so violently he might as well be vibrating. But
he’s as hard as ever inside her.
Perhaps harder.
“I said no,” she repeats when calloused thumbs dig into her smooth flesh to
part her buttocks, but then she feels him insert himself between them, and his
contented hum indicates that that’s enough for him, that this is all he’s
wanted to do.
“I told you don’t worry,” he mutters, a hint of almost adolescent offense in
his tone even, while his neglected cock pulses against her hot, sensitive skin.
He’s trembling, though his voice does not. “What d'you take me for …?”
Down at the bottom of their little pile, Not Dick Grayson gasps when Batman
gives Vicki a slow, measured thrust, forcing her to gyrate on his cock again.
It’s clear that he’s gonna set the pace from now on. She stirs and grows as
tense as a whip at that, and both men moan in response. She feels the boy kick
his heels into the mattress in a desperate attempt to stave off his orgasm one
more time.
Batman’s hands are on her tits, and then Robin’s hands are on her tits, and now
they are touching again and it’s fucking weird, but whatever, it’s not as if
this can get any weirder, anyway.
The older man grinds against her again, slowly, then again, and again, and she
can feel that he truly wants to do more, that he really wants to rail her, but
he’s holding back, maybe because he can’t lose face in front of his junior
partner. The thought makes her smile grimly. She wonders what’s really going on
with him, if he imagines having Robin bent over in front of him like she is
now, or if he imagines being her and having his hard teenaged cock inside of
him.
He’s probably not been waiting for her answer to his question, but she gives it
anyway.
“A criminal,” she whispers, grinning to herself.
“What?”
“Is what I take you for –”
His next thrust comes a little harder than the ones before. Somehow getting
called that gets him hella excited. “Come again,” he mutters slyly, one hand
bunched up in her luscious red hair.
“You’re. A. Criminal,” the reporter moans, letting the word roll off her
tongue, “That’s what you are, a wretched – nhn – low-life – criminal -”
And somehow, that does it for her. Her body shudders, and then she hears Not
Dick Grayson cry out underneath her when her muscles snap shut around him and
she climaxes, deep and hard. He bucks up against her, and then he’s there too,
and he almost sounds like he’s sobbing while he spills his seed into her.
She’s in no condition to say for sure, but it’s as if Batman briefly squeezes
his acolyte’s hands while he watches them come.
“Good boy,” she whispers to Robin, still shuddering, while he goes limp
underneath her. A strange kind of sympathy comes over her while she sees all
the fraught tension finally leave his smooth face and body, sees his eyes
flutter in exhaustion. And then, “Good boy, Dick,” because it’s not as if
anyone is keeping up appearances anymore, and she figures she can get away with
it.
Batman doesn’t try to fight her on it again, perhaps because he doesn’t pay
attention. She can hear him draw loaded, ragged breaths behind her. Not only
his cock, but his entire body seems painfully rigid, blood pounding through it,
and even though she can’t see it, she is willing to bet that his face looks
crazy right now.
“All right, fine,” she mumbles.
The boy has left her hot, dripping and open, so she lifts up her rear and
offers herself to the man, too. He doesn’t deserve it, but maybe having a damn
orgasm will make him tolerable for 5 minutes.
She hears a sharp intake of breath and knows he hasn’t expected her to let him
fuck her, probably hasn’t even expected to get as involved as he did.
“Go ahead, do it, you prick,” she snaps at him, since that’s seems to be a
language he understands, “Do your worst, that’s what you’re here for, anyway.”
He hesitates for a moment. When his fingers eventually touch her, they’re
shaking, slipping on her sweat-soaked skin, his earlier sophistication nowhere
to be found. Something about sticking his cock where Robin had been before
seems to make him deeply nervous. She rolls her eyes. Weirdos, the both of
them.
He rasps, “Vicki – I –”
Her head shoots up from the mattress she’s been drooling on. “Don’t wanna hear
it,” she snarls, grinning wildly to herself. “Do it. I want it. I never fucked
a crookbefore -”
He’s so huge, and she’s so worked up, that another orgasm explodes in her loins
right when he slams into her.
She shrieks, and then Robin shrieks when she digs her long nails into his
chest. Behind her, Batman’s moan sounds so torn and grateful it nearly turns
him into a human being for a second. He sounds familiar almost, now that all
the harshness is melting out of his voice, like someone she knows, but she
can’t put her finger on  –
Anyway, his dick is way more appealing than his foul mouth.
He plows her deep and good, as if to make up for all the nastiness that
preceded it. He fucks her right on top of the boy, and that can’t be a
coincidence, like the hand-touching hasn’t been a coincidence, and whenever
she’s not busy howling in orgasm, she watches Not Dick Grayson bite his lip
bloody while he squirms beneath them, unable to tear his gaze away. Streaks of
dried-up tears are gleaming on his face. His eyes burn so brightly he almost
looks mad.
When Batman’s body is finally taken by orgasm too, he’s so desperate not to
embarrass himself that his throaty roaring winds up sounding almost wounded,
and it’d be hilarious if she wasn’t so busy blanking out and collapsing on top
of Robin.
To her surprise, he brings up his shaky arms, and embraces her. The boy, not
the man.
She lets her head sink into the crook of his neck, and closes her eyes for a
few blissful minutes. She barely notes how the man behind her gets up and
leaves the bed. He doesn’t say another word, which, alsoa blessing.
She’s not sure how long they lie there. All the blinds in their little hotel
room are down, it could be night, dawn, morning, anything. The next thing she
really actually notices is Not Dick Grayson sucking in his breath when her
sweaty fingers touch the claw marks on his skin.
Vicki looks at them. Her face grows hot. “Oh, baby. Sorry about that.”
“Are you kiddin’,” the rascally smile returns while he looks at his scratched-
up chest with pride, an eager flush in his cheeks. “That was cool.”
Vicki gazes up at him. “Are you okay,” she wonders, because she has a true
desire to know. She’s not sure what she even means. A lot of things, most
likely.
He doesn’t answer her question. But he turns to her, weary but happy, all the
tension and hardship seemingly washed away. At least for now.
“Mind if I kiss you again, Miss Vale?” He asks, hushed and fast, as if he’s
worried someone will forbid it the next second.
She lifts her head, and presses her lips on his.
They kiss, and he sighs hotly, squirming against her, wanting more. He’s
clinging to her as if he never wants her to leave. Which makes sense, she
figures, as that would leave him alone with the Bat. She doesn’t even wonder
what the hell the big man is doing until a few moments later, when he comes out
of the bathroom and tosses two towels at them as if they’d just finished a
successful workout. For someone who’s just held out as long and come as hard as
he did, he’s pretty steady on his feet. If he dislikes seeing them make out
again, he doesn’t say it.
She takes the towel. All in all, that’s not the shittiest thing he’s done
today.
He’s back in his tights already, though his heavy, scar-covered chest is still
bare. He sits down in the chair next to the bed and watches them clean up. It’s
a creeper move, but compared to his behavior in the sheets, it’s downright
serene.His gaze falls on his apprentice, and a crooked smile comes to his lips.
“You’re never gonna wash that off, are you,” he grumbles.
Vicki looks over and catches Not Dick staring down at himself, and for the
first time they both notice that his face and body are covered in her hot pink
lipstick. His blush deepens, but he sounds plucky when he determines, “Nah, not
yet,” dabbing his skin carefully so it won’t wipe off. He seems to be in a mood
so chipper that even Batman can’t kill it. Vicki grins, and you’d almost think
the Dark Knight is grinning, too. But he stops as soon as he feels her eyes on
him.
“You regret it,” he asks in that gruff voice that she now knows is not his real
voice, “Singning the agreement?”
'cause that’s what he’d made her do, sign a non-disclosure agreement about
tonight, a legally binding one. Because he’s a massive creep, but he’s not
stupid. And signing it probably made Vicki a creep, too. Eh, screw it. Probably
wasn’t even the weirdest legal document floating around Gotham.
She gives him a sly smile in response, says nothing. It’s been worth it, oh,
it’s all been worth it, every second. She hasn’t gotten laid like this in
months, if ever, but there is no need to blow even more smoke up Batman’s
clenched ass. And besides, that’s only a small fraction of what makes her smile
in satisfaction. It doesn’t matter that she can’t publish this little escapade,
which would’ve been professional self-destruction anyway. She’d never planned
to. She got what she wanted; a deep, dark look into the horror show that was
Batman’s psyche, which brought her one step closer to figuring out who he was
behind that mask. Andthatheadline? Would earn her only acclaim one day.
The rest of what happened…would remain buried in her heart forever.
Vicki really wants a smoke, but unfortunately, she quit, so she grabs the mint
that used to be on the pillow, unwraps it, and sucks down on it. Not Dick
Grayson licks his lips, watching her enjoy her hard candy with keen interest.
He’s way past his refractory period and sporting a happy erection again, but
seems content to remain cuddled up to her on the bed for now. Vicki lets the
mint melt in her mouth and reaches down to stroke him lightly, and his eyes
fall shut and he purrs.
Batman watches them through the narrowed slits of his cowl. Something tells her
that he hadn’t banked on the two of them getting along this well, and now it
bothers him. It’s obvious he doesn’t like not being the center of attention.
Hers. Or the boy’s, or both, who can tell with him.
“We’re out of time,” he snarls, sounding only the slightest bit possessive.
Robin shoots him a look from heavy-lidded eyes. He looks obscene, with his
little domino mask on and nothing else and his cock rigid between his legs;
obscene, and beautiful.
“Already,” he complains, tracing gentle circles around one of Vicki’s areolas.
It’s not a direct refusal, he’s not quite there yet, but she can already tell
that Batman will have a hell of a time controlling his brat if he only grows a
little older.
She judges from the small, fleeting frown on Batman’s face that he can tell,
too.
“You’re forgetting something,” he warns his protégé, and the kid tenses up,
still under the man’s spell. But when he looks in his direction, Batman merely
grins.
“It’s not your call, boyo,” he says gruffly. “And it’s not mine, either. It’s
hers.” He nods at Vicki in an almost polite fashion. “If you’ve pleased her
sufficiently – with my help, obviously – she might ask for an encore.”
Realizing that he’s being left to run free for a couple more moments, Robin
perks up. He wraps his arms around Vicki, beaming up at her with such hopeful
eyes, as if he wants to be adopted. And then slept with. It’s all very fucked
up.
“Really, Miss Vale?” He asks again, and it tugs at the nerve ends in her pussy
a little. “Can we? Um, please?”
Vicki is silent for a moment, moved by the pure need in the boy’s request, and
slightly stunned that Batman is willing to let her take the reins.
The cowled man stays seated on the edge of the bed, apparently content to
assume his role as observer again. But his grin is teasing. “If she’s willing
to assist you with that,” he says with a lazy, dismissive nod at Robin’s hard
member, “I can wait … three more seconds.”
The boy grimaces at him, but it’s clearly a little more playful now. Vicki
sighs at their combined strangeness and regrets that she’ll never be able to
write thefantastic profile on them that it deserves.
Oh, hell. Who knows when Robin’s gonna get a treat again, probably not soon.
And she’s finished her candy, so she might just as well.
“You know,” she purrs, as she slides down between his legs under Batman’s
watchful eyes, “There’s this thing about fresh mints and fellatio. Pay
attention, and learn.”
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