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When Spidey Met Batgirl	By : littleblackduck Category: DC Verse Comics > Batgirl Views: 29376 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Spider-Man or Batgirl or anything Marvel and/or DC related. I make no profit from this work.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER NINE: Amazing Adult Fantasy
Peter was too keyed up to sleep.
The whole last day had been like some surreal dream. There was no way he could have guessed that a fight with the Vulture would have ended up with him sleeping across the hall from the sexiest woman he’d ever met.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. He saw the way she’d been when he’d met her as Batgirl. He saw the girlish swell of her breasts -- they weren’t melons as much as oranges… or maybe tangerines -- blessed with pretty pink nipples, hanging out of her tattered costume. He saw the fire in her sapphire eyes as she surged toward him on the attack, and he couldn’t help but feel the erotic charge from the lingering memory.
This night had probably warped him forever. It’d feed his sick, twisted fantasies for the rest of his life.
There was no way Peter was going to drift off anytime soon, and when he restlessly opened his eyes, he could clearly see the reason why. Lying on his back, he had a perfect view of the tent in the bed sheets his erection was making. If he wanted to get any sleep, he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.
*
Lying awake in her bed, Barbara decided to check herself out.
The rough nature of her night-life had a tendency to leave her with a few cuts and bruises in the morning, and she’d learned the hard way that it was best to know what injuries she might need to hide from or explain to her father ahead of time. She’d kind of gotten out of the habit of doing so since he’d left town, but he’d be coming back tomorrow.
Besides. For some reason, she just couldn’t sleep.
She unbuttoned her pajama top to check the bruise from that elbow she’d taken to the tit the night before. It was slightly less noticeable, but she noted that between the adhesive of Spider-Man’s webbing and the forceful scouring she’d done to remove it, her breasts had been rubbed raw in places. Running her hands lower down her torso, she felt a nick on her belly from Killer Moth’s rushed slicing of her costume. It was only the one tiny, hairline cut, and she knew how lucky she was to have been bound and at the mercy of that feeble little goofball instead of someone really dangerous like Mr. Freeze or Two-Face or the goddamn Joker. How lucky she was that Killer Moth had been stopped when he had.
But it hadn’t just been luck, had it?
Spider-Man had tried to kiss her tonight and she hadn’t let him. She had a dozen good reasons why not: She felt vulnerable. She didn’t really know him. He was too young and she’d almost started down that road with Robin and it’d only been a problem ever since. And she didn’t want him to think she felt beholden to him, because she wasn’t. She was not. But despite all of those good, logical, righteous reasons, she still felt this strange pull toward him. And it was that irrational attraction she felt -- or rather her fear of it -- more than anything that had caused her to stop him.
She remembered the way he’d felt beneath her in the warehouse. She’d been too upset at the time to take it all in, but when she closed her eyes, she could recapture the moment… The stir of his cock grinding into her…
As her mind wandered, so did her hands. One sliding up to her breast, which still ached at the touch, the other snaking its way under the waist band of her pajama bottoms.
“Oh god,” she groaned as she probed deeper. She was already wet!
Absently tracing a finger along her moist pussy lips, she felt a jolt when she came to the hard nub of her clit. With a soft moan, she pressed into herself. She was really going to have to do something about this.
*
After that first night in her shower, Betty and Peter had enjoyed a handful of encounters over that last month before she broke it off with him. Their circumstances still hadn’t changed. She was still living with her mom and he was still living with his aunt, and they were both juggling myriad responsibilities, so finding time alone proved just as difficult. Once they knew what they were missing, though, they were willing to make a greater effort. There had been that one night Aunt May spent in the hospital after an angina episode, when Betty slipped out of her apartment to make sure he was okay. Then a week later, she took an afternoon off for a dentist appointment she ended up skipping so she could meet Peter -- who cut class for the first time in his life -- at a motel in Queens. And then there was that rather daring tryst in the Bugle’s darkroom.
On those rare instances when Peter had the time and inclination to masturbate, he usually drew from those experiences. He remembered the impish look in Betty’s eyes as she unbuttoned her blouse in his bedroom… his hands squeezing the dimpled cheeks of her ass as he took her from behind, her cries muffled by her face pressed into the motel mattress... The pillowy warmth of her tits mashed around his cock under the darkroom’s strange red light…
For the first time in months, as he stroked himself, Betty Brant wasn’t on his mind. He thought of the mysterious Batgirl. The way her pretty pink lips stretched into a smile when he’d met her in her civilian identity at the library… Her warm body pressed against his as they swung through the cool Gotham night, the twin swells of her breasts burning holes in his back… And of course, her writhing against his spandex-clad cock when she’d attacked him. Peter tried to take his time, savoring those images, but the freshness of the memories were getting the better of him, as evidenced by the beads of precum oozing from the tip of his dick. There was no way he was going to last much longer, unless…
“I couldn’t sleep either,” he heard someone say from the doorway.
He sat bolt upright in an instant, raising his knees in a vain attempt to hide the obscene bulge in the sheets, while cursing his spider-sense. It had saved his life more times than he could count, and it was invaluable in a fight, but every time he thought he’d figured out what it would warn him about and what it wouldn’t he learned he was wrong. He still hadn’t trained it to protect him from utter humiliation.
She’d opened the door and walked right in without him even noticing. Was this one of those weird bat-person things, or had he just been too engrossed in what he was doing?
“Batgirl?” he said, as she climbed into the bed. “What’s going on?”
“Barbara,” she whispered, pushing Peter onto his back and pinning him down. “My name is Barbara.”
“What about that guy you live with?” he asked.
He barely got the question out before she pressed her lips against his. Peter gasped, surprised by the hunger of her kiss. As soon as his mouth parted, he felt her tongue brush against his, playfully swirling for a moment before she pulled back.
“Well lucky for us, he’s not here right now,” she said, tugging at his shirt.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Peter asked in a daze as she lifted it over his head.
“Stop over-thinking it, nerd boy,” she said, kissing him again. “Give me your hand.”
Sucking her tongue as they kissed, Peter did as he was told. She pulled his hand up under her shirt to touch her left breast. He grasped the soft, supple flesh and squeezed, rewarded when she moaned into his mouth. Her nipple thickened against his palm. Peter couldn’t resist. Breaking the kiss, he pulled her shirt up to her neck and leaned in to rub his lips against the puffy pink cap.
“Yes,” Barbara murmured, her hand pulling his face into her breast. As he sucked on the hard nub -- flicking it back and forth with his tongue -- his free hand caressed her taut, toned tummy. Goosebumps rose up just as he slipped under the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She trembled when he reached the downy softness between her legs. He looked up from her tit to see her throw her head back in delight.
“Someone’s all wet,” he teased, drawing his finger along her glistening lips. “Wet and hot.”
“Soooo hot,” Barbara groaned, feeling him stroke her pussy just before his finger plunged in. Her legs twitched as he slid in and out of her balmy, damp snatch. The more he fingered her, the wetter she got, and the wetter she got, the easier he found it to finger her.
“Ah fuck,” she whimpered when he drove a second digit into her, a warm feeling flushing through her as he continued this tantalizing finger-bang. She was on the verge of cumming when he started swirling his fingers within her in small, steady circles. Pushing her hips into his thrusting fingers, she pulled Peter’s head to her right tit. He latched onto the nipple, biting gently just as his thumb strummed the swollen bud of her clit just once. The shock of pain and pleasure jolted her into her burgeoning orgasm.
“Oh gawd! I’m cumming!” she squeaked, violently arching her back as Peter reluctantly pulled his mouth off her tit. “Cuh-cumming soooo hard!” Her toes curled as her commentary broke down into a series of short, panting “Oo”s and “Ah”s. She gushed over his fingers as he kept rubbing her spasming sex and she rode through rippling waves of bliss.
Eventually, her body relaxed and she flopped down on her back next to him. “You know… how pissed I’ve been… about you cumming… on me in the warehouse...?” she asked in short gasps as she caught her breath.
“Uh huh,” Peter said. Her hands slid down her belly to take hold of his. “Kind of hard to forget tonight, actually,” he told her as she drew his sticky wet fingers to her mouth and licked away her sweet juices in a wanton display unlike anything he’d ever seen.
“I think that makes us even,” she informed him when she finished.
“I’m really glad to hear you say that,” Peter said, kissing his way from her neck down to her navel, “but we should definitely make sure.” His trail of kisses stopped when he reached her soiled pajama bottoms. “How attached are you to these pants?” he asked.
“I never really wear them,” she confessed. “I only to put them on because you were here.”
“This is what passes for sexy lingerie?” he teased, tugging the elastic waistband so that it snapped back against her trembling pelvis.
“I wasn’t trying to turn you on, dummy,” she giggled.
“Then you really fucked up,” he remarked, effortlessly tearing her pants down the middle in a willful display of strength and lust. Barbara gulped in surprise as he stripped the torn trousers off her legs. He planted kisses on her freshly bared inner thighs, still sticky with her honey. He blew on her slit and she shivered when he began lapping at her pussy with big, slow licks. Barbara grabbed two fistfuls of bedding as Peter continued to tease her.
“Yesss,” she hissed when he thrust his tongue into her folds. His hands slid up from her legs to her tits and he lightly grazed her nipples with his palms. Seething, she took his hands with her own, pressing them into her breasts, squeezing them in time with the beat of his tongue sawing into her pussy.
“Ooooh,” she panted when he started humming into her core. Peter, spurred on by her moans, tipped his face forward so his nose brushed against her hard clit.
“T-too much,” she whimpered, her head rolling side to side. “It’s… ah!… That’s too muh-much.” He pulled back then, blowing a slow, shaky breeze. She crushed his hands to her breasts even harder. “OOOOOOOH!” she screamed, her hips bucking forward as another orgasm surged through her. He dove back into her muff, greedily sucking the fresh flow of girl-cum as Barbara worked through a toe-tingling climax.
Satisfied he’d lapped up all that he could, Peter crawled up her body as she lazily watched. He collapsed beside her and they just laid there in silence for a while, the only sound their hot, heavy breaths.
Eventually, she rolled over toward him, grabbing a corner of bedding to wipe her cream from his face. “I don’t suppose you could web us up a condom, could you?” she asked, kissing him.
“That’s a little beyond me,” Peter confessed as she rose from the bed, her plaid pajama top falling back over her torso. The shirt hung just low enough to cover that gorgeous ass of hers, but he caught a few brief glimpses of it as she practically skipped out of the room. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’ll take care of it,” she said, hopping across the hall to her room. She found her utility belt and opened the backward most pouch, where Robin has stashed a pack of condoms -- he said as a joke, but she knew better -- when Batman had issued her a custom costume to replace the homemade suit she’d started out with. She was sure that if Dick Grayson had ever expected her to use them, it wouldn’t be for anyone but him, the smug little shit.
She ran back into the guest room and -- in an impressive feat of gymnastic ability -- somersaulted onto the bed, surprising Peter. She landed eye level with his groin, where she noticed that the impossible had happened: his erection had started to flag.
“Oh no you don’t,” she murmured, her mouth so close he could feel her hot breath on his deflated dick right before she kissed the crown. Peter sighed at the soft brush of her lips on his cock right before she engulfed him in her hot, wet maw. This was something Betty had never done, and he reveled in the mind-blowing bliss of his first blowjob. Barbara pulled back, kissing the tip once more. She lightly nibbled down the side of his quickly rising erection, liberally using her tongue, before reaching his balls. She took one tenderly between her lips and gently sucked, then the other. Within seconds, he was rock hard again.
“There we go,” she said, after one of his nuts slipped from her mouth with a soft pop. Peter groaned in frustration as she slipped the condom over the oozing tip of his prick.
Barbara wrapped her hand around his latex-clad cock and lightly stroked as she scrambled up to straddle him. “Uhhhhh,” Peter grunted, seizing her plaid-covered breasts once she’d settled on top of him. He squeezed, feeling her nipples swell under the flannel as she slowly fed his cock into her sex. With trembling fingers, he unbuttoned her top.
“Oh -- ah! -- fuck me,” she whispered, sinking down on his member. He pulled her shirt open and tugged it off her shoulders and down her arms. “Fuck me, please.” She had an incredible figure. Betty was in fantastic shape, but Barbara was a trained athlete and her body a finely tuned instrument. Nothing illustrated that more than the way she was riding him now. Gradually rising up and down the entire length of his shaft. Peter turned his head to the side and clenched his eyes shut, lost in the sensational rhythm. Then he felt her hands on his cheeks, her fingers shaking as she pulled him to face her again.
“Ah… oh god… look at me,” she whimpered, pleading. “Juh-just -- oh! -- just look at me.”
He and Betty had never really maintained eye contact during sex. She always closed her eyes and looked off to the side as if she was embarrassed, and Peter tended to follow suit. But at Barbara’s request, he looked up at her. Up past her breasts, heaving as she humped him… up past her sensual mouth, her bottom lip twisted out sideways as she bit softly down… up to her sapphire blue eyes which burned into his.
“Luh-look at me,” she cried. Begging him. Vulnerable. And right then all thoughts and comparisons to Betty fell from his mind.
Something came over him then. He pulled her down to him and rolled them both over, pushing Barbara onto her back as he mounted her. She gasped as he drove his throbbing cock into her. Not so much from pleasure -- though a certain amount of pleasure was undeniable -- as much as from the shocking force as he slammed into her again and again. It wasn’t quite hard enough to hurt, but it was more than she expected. She was astonished to find such raw power in such a slight frame.
“Easy, tiger,” she grunted. “Be… uhn -- Be gentle.”
“Sorry,” Peter responded in a ragged sigh, slowing himself with visible reluctance. “I just want you so much.”
She kissed him softly. “You’ve got me all night,” she said, then kissed him again. “We don’t need to rush.”
At that, Peter stopped pumping all together. He just felt himself within her, soaking in the sensation of her, losing himself in the pulse of her warm, welcoming wetness. He leaned down to kiss her neck as he finally started to withdraw his cock in a long, delicious stroke.
“Ooooh, that’s right,” Barbara cooed in his ear, folding her arms around his neck. “Take it slow.”
Peter pushed back into her then, burying himself once more before he pulled out, just as gradually, setting a slow but deliberate pace. Barbara started shifting her hips into his thrusts. “So good,” Peter groaned. At last, she was fucking him back. She wrapped her long legs around him, pulling him deeper in as she felt out a pace to counter his. In the same way they found themselves settling into a complementary series of opposing thrusts, they also settled into a harmony of gasps and moans. Peter couldn’t imagine anything sexier than the sound of this sexpot writhing beneath him as their passions continued to build.
Barbara’s hands fell to his ass, pulling him into her. “Deeper,” she pleaded, and Peter lowered his hips, shifting his angle of penetration. “God -- mmm -- yes!” she cried as he plunged into her again and again. She kissed him, the tips of their noses touching as they stared into each other’s eyes.
“Oh -- uhn -- I can’t,” Peter moaned, the flush of her silky skin against his driving him crazy with lust. “I’m -- ahh -- I’m not go -- huh -- going to… last much longer…:”
“Oh oh… hold on…” she begged, her nipples grazing his as she pushed her chest out. “I’m close,” she whimpered. “I’m soooo close…”
The tingling lurch of his balls warned Peter he wouldn’t be able to wait. He’d just have to push her. Shifting all of his weight to one elbow, he thrust into her one last time, reaching down to rub her clit, pinching lightly. The reaction was almost immediate as her cunt clamped down on his cock and Barbara spiraled into creamy ecstasy again.
She went wild beneath him, squealing, “Aaaaahh GAAAWD Spider-Maaaaan!” as her body quaked and spasmed.
Peter just let out a gruff sigh of relief and release, lost to his own eruption. His cock jerked, finally blasting the pent-up spunk of his lust. Barbara could feel it inside, and tightened her legs around him, soaking in each twitch of his hard-on until it started to wither.
“Sweet Jesus,” Peter groaned, pulling out, careful to ease the condom out with him. “You’re amazing, Barbara.”
“Oh god,” she said with a lazy sigh, snuggling in next to him after he tossed the spent rubber in a waste bin by the night stand. “You never told me your name… I just fucked you and I don’t even know your real name.” She buried her face in his chest in shame. “I’m a skank.”
“It’s Peter,” he murmured dreamily, his face nestled in the fragrant strawberry of her hair. “And if it’ll make you feel any less skanky, we can do it again tomorrow.”
“Ha ha, funny boy,” she purred before drifting to sleep, the slowing beat of his heart her lullaby. He drifted right after her.
NEXT: Journey's End
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When Spidey Met Batgirl