A Kitty's Needs Ch. 02

"No, Selina. I don't mind," Alfred finally replied, much to her immediate relief -- even if his tone was deathly quiet. "Our home is your home, to an extent." He removed his apron and draped it on a waiting hook, then strode with purpose towards the table. For a moment she expected him to join her.

She didn't expect him to reach out and grab the plate, immediately turning and beelining the sandwich to the trash. It had taken her forever to find the ingredients in the manor's needlessly large kitchen, and she had only just sat down to eat it. Her mouth worked haplessly, producing no words, at a loss for words over how abruptly her snack was taken from her and disposed of. It was very... un-Alfred.

"What I do mind," Alfred deadpanned as he put the plate in the sink and went to open a nearby fridge, "is the thought of you eating that poor excuse for sandwich when I'm just around the corner. It's an insult to me and a disrespect to your tongue," he scolded, "and I happen to be rather fond of the latter." He procured a loaf of marbled rye bread and set it down, glancing at her. "Now, do you prefer ham or turkey, Miss Kyle?"

Selina stared for just a moment too long. "You seem like a turkey sort of woman," Alfred decided, returning to the fridge. She couldn't help herself from bursting into laughter right afterward, her mirthful peals and ready grin bringing a levity to Wayne Manor that Bruce's dates rarely produced. Alfred smiled as he worked.

Selina propped her chin in her palm and just kept on grinning as she watched the British butler go about his fine culinary art, perfectly arranging the sliced meat on the bottom layer followed by vegetables, a slice of cheese and just a drizzle of dressing on the top slice of bread. "Has anyone ever told you how perfect you are, Pennyworth?" she asked, sitting up straight when her plate arrived and reaching for the divine snack replacing her admittedly haphazard attempt at one. As much as she loved Pam and Harley, they got her in the habit of ordering out every night.

"There's no such thing," Alfred replied with a faint smile. "Though you must come close." The words were spoken so simply, so softly, and so plainly sweet that she could feel a bit of her heart melt just looking at him afterwards. She was glad she was chewing the sandwich and wasn't expected to reply -- and gladder yet when he set down a water bottle on the table and slid it towards her. "Don't forget to hydrate. I take it by your presence here--"

"Yeah," Selina said right after swallowing, her pussy already wet again. "We're not done yet."

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Alfred's bedroom was by far the smallest and most humble in Wayne Manor, with its guts telling very little about the man who resided there, decorated in an almost spartan fashion. It was also the only room in the home that Selina hadn't ever been through. Not that she was ever making nighttime forays into Dick or Damien's bedrooms, but cats are naturally curious creatures and Catwoman more so than most. Much to Selina's delight, Alfred's bed ended up being much like his cock: far larger than she'd expect from a single mature man working as a butler.

She removed her robe's belt and let the comfortable garment slide down and off her body, pooling on the floor around her feet as she advanced on the older man, resting her palms flat on his chest. "Now," she purred, stepping forward and pushing him back towards the bed. "It's time you lay back and let the kitty have a turn on top, don't you think?" She dragged her nails down his body, the pink trails left in their wake quickly fading. They had already taken care of his pants and shoes; with the loss of her overgarment they were both fully nude.

"That," Alfred murmured, "only seems fair. I'm not as young as I used to be, after all," he added with a little crook to his faint smile, making his face look all the younger in spite of his words.

God, I bet he was an adonis in his prime, Selina thought to herself, resolving to search his room at some point to see if she could find a picture of Alfred Pennyworth before his life became intertwined with the Waynes. She bit her bottom lip and just smirked at him. When they reached the bed, she gave a light shove that he took gracefully, automatically scooting up to get his head on a pillow. She practically pounced up on the bed in her rush to straddle him, running her graceful fingers up and down his stomach as she just drank in the old silver fox in butler's clothing. "By the time I'm done with you, old man, you're going to be seeing stars," she bragged, fresh excitement blossoming once more.

"If you say so, Miss Kyle," Alfred replied casually, his hands sliding to her thighs as he gazed up at her. The words were just a little more of that confidence she so desperately craved in a man. She was a sight to behold above him, her heavy breasts swaying, her toned stomach on full display.

Part of her desperately wanted to shut Alfred up, to sit on his face and jeer down at him about the cat having his tongue. As alluring as the thought was, Selina didn't want to look away from his face. She didn't want to miss a single one of his expressions, and she certainly wanted to make him cum one more time. This isn't about what I want, she lied to herself, slowly licking her lips before shifting her position, rising from her straddle to squat over his waiting length, hard again for her a fourth time in one night.

Third, she reminded herself. The bastard resisted her blowjob. Had she called him a bastard out loud yet? At some point during their long night together, he had become her definition of one. Fuck it. "British bastard," Selina called him in a feline growl before closing her eyes and beginning to spear herself with his ready dick, his thickness spreading her unbelievably tight snatch wide once more. She bit back most of the mewling moan that spilled from her lips as she sank down on him.

For a third time in as many hours, she found her body molding about his cock, her most intimate muscles squeezing him like a vise. For a moment, she just savoured how full he made her feel, her decision not to miss a single expression already forgotten. She opened her eyes just as she fully hilted him, a ready smirk already on her flustered features to drink in his reaction to her kegels.

Alfred was smirking back at her, almost downright boyish about it in the moment. "Well, Miss Kyle? I thought you were going to fuck me so hard that I would see stars, but if you'd prefer, we can roll over."

"Bastard." The effect of Selina's next growl was lost in her laugh, delighted with him. Once again, her hands flattened out on his torso as she began to ride him properly, lifting her hips and slamming them back down against his. Each repetition almost had her emptying her cunt of the dick she had found so delicious, before swallowing it all back up inside of her, as though Selina couldn't go a moment without the entirety of Alfred's cock piercing her, and each repetition was marked by the wet slap their sexes made on contact.

"How's that, bastard?" Selina gasped out -- she gasped each time she slammed herself back down on his glorious cock, just as he grunted with each. She noted with some relish that the butler had his jaw clenched already.

"Call me bastard one more time, Miss-- Kyle," Alfred began to scold, though he needed to bite her surname out, "and I'll have you over my knee in a moment."

"Promises -- ah! -- promises," Selina taunted back, managing a quick grin down at Alfred that quickly returned. Third time's the charm for breaking British bastard butlers, Selina noted, biting down cruelly on her bottom lip. This wasn't going to be the last time she rode Alfred. She held her control over him like a queen, her nails raking new pink furrows against his aged skin. It was only then, riding his dick as she was, that Selina noticed the scars that marked his past history as a soldier. God, to pin him down and get all his secrets, she thought headily to herself. Who knows what else he's hiding?

She was confident, at least, that his greatest secret was the one already buried deep inside her. "C'mon," Selina growled, her dark thirst in her eyes. She planted herself on his base once more and leaned back, her hands leaving his stomach to lean her weight on the mattress behind her. Shifting from a squat to her knees, she began to roll her hips in a desperate attempt to milk his cock once more, already feeling another orgasm working its way through her cunt. "Give me that British cum, baby," she demanded, and for a moment she was sure Alfred's twitching expression was a sign of her impending victory over him, making him cum first at last.

"Oh, fuck," she suddenly cried out, her eyes widening as she felt Alfred's fingers on her clit, the tactically minded old soldier taking advantage of the opening her new position gave him to seize the initiative once more. "F-fuuuck," Selina squealed as it overtook her, given the one little shove she needed to hit her peak. Her legs spasmed and her arms practically gave out under her. As she slowly teetered back, her vision began to blacken from being overwhelmed and exhausted. The last thing Selina felt before losing consciousness was the first hot squirt of Alfred's cum, and her last conscious word was a slurred, "Bastard."

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Selina missed Alfred pass out mere moments after her as well. The two slept there together for hours in a sweaty mess of tangled limbs. Despite his age, or maybe in spite of it, Alfred woke before Selina did. He was content to lay there watching her for several minutes, a debauched angel with black hair and cum leaking from between her legs. You wouldn't be able to tell this beauty was Catwoman at a glance, he thought to himself. She didn't look particularly comfortable with one of her arms hanging off the side of the bed, so with a grunt Alfred labored to his feet and lifted Selina, resting her weary head upon a pillow and tucking her in. With little more energy to spare, he crawled in beside her and allowed himself the indulgence of wrapping an arm about her.

It had been decades since he had a marathon like that, and he was sure Selina had never experienced anything like it. Few had. The royal family liked their parties -- not that Alfred was the sort to kiss and tell, of course (and he certainly hadn't actually slept with Vicki Vale, but Selina didn't need to know that little white lie). He brushed his fingers through her hair as he drifted back to la la land, ready to dream about the surprise breakfast in bed he would serve her come morning. Bacon... eggs... toast. Sausage. Tomatoes.

Bangers and mash.

Bangers and mash.

Bangers and mash? Alfred slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the light cutting into his room via the window. Morning already? Well, perhaps he'd make some bangers and mash for her. He turned his head and found the pillow beside him empty, which wasn't much of a surprise in and of itself. Cats were capricious creatures, after all, and it was only natural for Selina to slink out wordlessly if she woke up first.

Bangers and mash? He squinted at the wall across from him. Something was off, unusual, distinctly wrong but not in his immediate awareness. Had Selina stolen some trophy from his room as a keepsake? Did he even have anything valuable enough to catch her eye?

Bangers and mash. Why couldn't he get his mind off bangers and mash?

Everything suddenly clicked into place when Alfred realized the very wrong feeling he had was his morning wood, a problem few men his age had. More than just that, someone had his morning wood in their soft, long-fingered hand, readily jerking it off while they polished his balls one at a time, taking each orb into their mouth in dutiful, worshipful fashion before giving it the respect it deserved with their tongue. "God," he grunted out, peeling back to reveal Selina between his thighs, hard at work on Alfred's raging hard on. She popped her lips off his testes when he revealed her and grinned at him, laying a brief kiss on the side of his dick before cooing out.

"Alfred, I want your ba-angers and ma-ash," Selina singsonged mischievously once more. With how slick his cock was, she must have been hard at work several minutes now. It was a marvel that she managed to get in there and do all that without waking him -- but then, Catwoman was the best of the best. It would have been an insult to expect anything less.

"Miss Kyle," the old butler grunted out, grabbing a handful of his bedsheets. "I hadn't realized you were quite such a nymph. Perhaps you've been spending too much time with Pamela Isley... ah, damn it all," he grunted again, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on his pillow, expression contorting much to Selina's gleeful laughter, finally getting a leg up on him. She caught him off guard. Flat footed, he was powerless to resist what his body demanded and her hand insisted. With another grunt, his balls emptied what little cum they had left all over Selina's gorgeous face and luscious lips. Grinning, she clearly didn't care when some of the spatter got into her hair, only scrunching her eyes shut long enough to make sure none of it hit her eyes.

"Well then," Selina purred out, smug as any four-legged cat ever could have been as she crawled back up Alfred's body and laid along it, her curves pressing against his straight lines and firm muscles. Two of her fingers trailed up his side, her nails dragging along his skin once more, while her other fingers played with the cum painting her tanned skin off-white. "You glorious old man." He could see her ass, still a bit red with a couple of bruises forming.

Familiar words. The same question chased them. "Just how old are you, though?"

Last night? Not that old. This morning? He was feeling it. "Old as time, my dear," he laughed exhaustedly, though he still managed to sit up. "Yet I think I made you a promise last night. Didn't I?"

"Oh," Selina's grin slimmed down to a devilish smile. "You better keep it."