When Spidey Met Oracle

"No one ever thinks that science is sexy," Peter said as she fed him into her pussy. He groaned as he pushed into her, thrilled to be inside her again. This time it wasn't a dream or a telepathic hoax or an imaginary story. Barbara was here with him. For real. Right now. "Just tell me what you like," he said to her. "I just want you to feel good."

"I like the same things I used to," she told him, kissing his lips. "You mean you don't remember?"

"I remember things," he insisted, seizing her hips.

"Like what?" she asked, her eyes lighting up.

"You liked it when I looked at you," he recalled.

"Yes," she whined. "I still do... What else?"

"That time in the bathroom."

"Oh god yes," Barbara said, as he bottomed out inside her.

"You wanted me to take it slow at first," he reminded her. "You wanted me to know that we could take our time."

"Can we take our time now?"

"I've got nowhere to go," he smiled, pulling back. "You're the one always running off."

"I can't run off now, Peter," she breathed, "and even if I could I wouldn't."

"I have a confession to make," he told her then.

"You wish I was wearing the costume?" Barbara guessed.

"No, Little Miss Sass-Mouth," Peter sighed.

"What did you want to confess then?"

"This is the real reason I wanted to talk to you," he told her, thrusting forward, hard.

"Oh, fuck," she sobbed and Peter stopped right there. She sounded hurt.

"What's wrong?" he asked, stroking her cheek.

"Nuh-nothing," she whimpered, burying her face in his shoulder. It had started out as this ball of tension at the pit of her stomach. She thought it was just all that nervousness at first, but then she realized all that throbbing heat was centered somewhere lower... Like something was wedged up within her. "It's just... I... I can feel you, Peter."

If she was honest with herself, Barbara thought she had felt this the last time she'd had sex -- with the Martian Manhunter -- but she hadn't trusted it. She hadn't trusted anything from that night. It'd been like this weird, sexy fever dream. So much of what she'd shared with J'onn had been in her head as he plumbed the depths of her mind for her lustiest thoughts and drew them to the surface while he was inside her. Her most cherished memories... Her deepest, darkest fantasies... The things she never would have shared with anyone... That she tried to bury deep...

It's possible that Peter Parker had popped up a few times.

Even crazier, there'd been moments with J'onn when she was no longer a girl from Gotham. She was him. She was making love to his wife, M'yri'ah, on the bright Martian morning they conceived their daughter, K'hym, or she was Detective John Jones, spending a stolen moment with his partner, Diane in interrogation room 4 in the police station at Middleton, Colorado. It'd been like nothing she'd ever experienced before... So you could maybe understand how she might miss this one thing in the swirling sensory maelstrom.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, wiping a tear from her eye.

"Oh gaaaawd, yes," she beamed, closing her eyes so she could focus on the burning lump between her numb, useless legs. "It's amaaaaaazing... I just didn't expect... OH!"

Peter pumped into her again, filling her with his cock once... twice... and in the shock of that alone, in the overwhelming surprise of feeling him fuck her, throbbing within her cunt, that was enough. She'd been building herself up this whole time in her old way... The way she could cum without feeling him, and now this was just too much...

"Haaah!" Barbara cried as she came. Peter hugged her close, the muscles inside her rippling around him. "Oh fuck oh fuck oh god oh fuck," she whined in short little exhalations of ecstasy. Barbara had regained some limited use of her toes a couple years back... she'd even been able to wiggle them. But this was the first time in a while since they'd actually curled involuntarily.

"Well, that was easier than I remember," Peter observed, easing out of her.

Barbara was too happily tingly to smack him again right then. "Brainiac," she sighed, still reeling through the aftermath of her orgasm. "I... I made the mistake of mentally interfacing with a corrupt copy of his programming once. It... It almost killed me but..."

"But it also enhanced some of your neural pathways, right?" Peter guessed. "Extra-terrestrial entities like that will often latch onto the neural network of an optimal human host to cement a bond, usually by augmenting synapses in a kind of pseudo-symbiotic relationship to mask their greater goals until they've gained control of the higher functions and it's too late. I've got to say, though, coaxing axons to innervate neurons connected to the sensory dermatomes to facilitate genital vasocongestion is more than I ever got from my alien costume, and well beyond prior studies..."

"That something you learned from Mister Fantastic?" she asked now that she'd caught her breath.

"Actually, it's one of the studies I'm running through this Future Foundation initiative Johnny Storm's set up," Peter said. "We talked him out of calling it Sex Lab Four, but--"

Barbara clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Stop killing the mood, Parker, and fuck me," she ordered.

"You don't find science sexy anymore?" he asked through her fingers.

"Not as sexy as, say, this right now, no," she decided, grabbing his dick again.

"As a former biology teacher, that insults me," he informed her.

"Well, can I encourage you, as a man lying next to a woman in need, to take it as a compliment?" she asked, pumping him once with her fist. Barbara was actively tugging him toward her. God, if she could just mount him, she would have by now.

"You make a compelling argument, Miss Gordon." Peter nodded.

"Oh!" she yipped as he rolled her on top of him in a flurry. She found herself straddling his thighs, his hard cock poking up before her, still wet with her girl cum. "Wh-what are you doing?" she asked, his powerful hands seizing her hips and lifting her into a kneeling position over his torso.

"Go ahead and get comfortable," he told her. She only hesitated for a moment before she tucked her legs to each side of him with her arms. It was a little surreal. Babs wasn't heavy by any stretch of the imagination, but the way he was holding her over him with only a slight incline of his arms -- steady and effortless -- was something else. Yes, she was well aware that there were supermen among us, as she had personally witnessed many a fantastic feat of strength in her day... But she almost always had clothes on when that happened.

Despite her long crime-fighting career, she'd only ever had sex with one other metahuman, and technically the Martian Manhunter wasn't a metahuman as much as he was an extra-terrestrial. But again, things with J'onn had gone beyond the simply physical. J'onn hadn't kept a consistent form the whole time, for one thing, his body constantly morphing into her former lovers.

Again, Peter Parker may have popped up...

"Maybe give me a hand here?" Peter suggested after she got herself situated. Barbara planted a palm square on his chest.

"Oh my god..." she murmured, feeling his steely pecs.

"What?" Peter panicked.

"N-nothing," she stammered, her fingertips testing once more the unyielding cords of muscle beneath his smooth, hairless skin. "You're just an impossible man, Peter Parker..." She took his meaty width in her other hand as he lowered her onto his erection. Barbara couldn't resist fondling the tip, pearlescent film trickling onto her fingers as she lined it up with her hot molten core.

"Jeeeeeeeeesus," he exhaled. "Are you trying to finish me off already?"

"Sorry," she apologized, releasing his cock and sinking onto it. "Haaaah..." she sighed pleasurably, sliding down his shaft. "You feel so good in me, Peter."

"Hold on," he told her, filling his hands with her ass. As she braced herself on his rock hard chest with her arms, he used his unnatural strength to lift her lithe form up and down the length of his manhood.

"Oh! Ah! It's like -- oooh! -- It's like I'm doing it..." she groaned. "Just like... like back then."

"J-just like back then," he repeated.

"You're amazing, Spider-Man," Barbara sighed. The pace was a cozy memory, right down to the little swivel of her hips at the end of each downward plunge...

"Holy honeytrap, Batgirl," Peter groaned beneath her as her velvety cunt milked his prick.

Barbara started at the phrasing. Dick had tried this type of thing with her back when they were together. Between their combined physical strength and the grab bars over her bed in the old Clocktower, it wasn't impossible, but somehow, with all the effort and coordination necessary, it felt more like work than making love which just drained all the heat out of it for her... What Peter was doing with her now wasn't the frantic circus act she used to attempt with the Man Wonder.

Barbara had no sense of her long legs straddling his hips, or even her folds sinking around his dick, but she had the fullness of Peter inside her and the heave of her breasts with each long, drawn out rise and fall as he railed her along his prick. And god, she loved drumming her fingers against a man's chest, the beat of his heart at her fingertips. Her hair swept along her back when she rolled her head in blissful abandon. She had always loved being on top, but the exquisite joys of riding a cock at her own pace had become a distant memory in the years since her injury.

"Tuh-tell me how it fuh-feels," she whimpered.

"You're still -- uhn -- still so tight," he groaned, hoisting her slightly higher now, the way she used to hold back when she felt a guy getting too close.

"Ah! Ah! Wuh-what else?" she asked.

"Hot," he told her. "Your cunt's so hot and moist, Barbara."

"Nooooo," she whined, as he slammed her down and up and down again. "I -- uhn! uhn! -- hah! haaaaaate that word."

"Cunt?"

"Mmmmoist.."

"I -- uhn -- just -- uhn -- don't -- uhn -- understand -- uhn -- women," Peter chuckled.

"Stuh-stop st-stating the -- ahn! ah! -- obvious and tell me hah! hah! how wet I feel," she said.

"So wet..."

"You make me wet, Peter," she groaned as he ground her against him. "You make me so fucking wet I can't stand it..." Barbara could tell she was getting carried away so she bent down to kiss him just to shut herself up. The crush of her tits into his chest sent this fresh flush of delight through her... But something was missing.

No. Worse... Something was in the way.

She'd put this off long enough. There was so much of this that was the same, but... but not enough. When this used to happen, there were hands on her tits. And his were busy...

Barbara rode him for a moment while her arms worked their way to her back.

Peter's eyes were closed when he felt the cloth fall onto his chest. This little balancing act with Barbara had been easy enough at first, but the longer it'd gone on, the harder it'd been to focus on the mechanics instead of the hot, wet cunt around his cock. He wanted this to last, and the feeling of her was one thing, but to actually watch Barbara ride him at the same time he was drawing her pussy all the way to the tip of his prick was too much. But the thick, foamy concaves and tangle of straps draped on his midriff could only be one thing and he had to see for himself. The sight that met Peter's eyes was worse than he feared: sex incarnate. Barbara was squeezing one of her freshly bared breasts but he had an unobstructed view of its twin hanging down from her chest, bobbing freely with each deep, penetrating stroke.

He'd just been intimate with them in the best possible way, but somehow, finally seeing her pale white breasts -- nipples and all -- sent a thrill thorough Peter Parker that flashed back down to his dick.

"Oh goodness, Mr. Parker," she gasped. He was fucking her so hard now she had to drop both her hands to brace herself on his shoulders. Before, he'd just been railing her up and down on his cock. Now he was thrusting up into her sopping hot pussy while pulling her down, too.

Babs didn't have his special talent for grip on her best days and her fingers were still slightly greasy with balm, so on one of his harder boosts, her hands slipped past his sweaty shoulders into the plush sofa cushions behind and beneath him. This left her leaning just over him now, her boobs swaying oh so enticingly in front of his face, one of those puckered pink nipples dangling mere inches from brushing his lips.

"Hello, girls," he groaned before burying his face in her tits. "Petey's missed you." And then he started motorboating them like a horny teenager.

"Buh-big tuh-tits and gluh-glaaaassssses," Barbara moaned in reply. God. She was fucking a goofball...

Peter forgot himself then, surging forward to take her right nipple between his teeth, chewing gently and flicking his tongue across the distended bud. As he sat up, Babs started to fall back, frantically wrapping her arms around his neck. As much as she had enjoyed riding him, Barbara wasn't too put out. With this new position, she could use the considerable strength of her arms to rise up a bit on his shoulders then force herself down onto his lap, pounding into him. She wasn't just his pliant little fuck toy now. She was a wickedly wanton participant.

"AHH! AHHHH!" she moaned, tossing her head back as he plunged into her hungry snatch again and again while mouthing her tits. "Oh god," Barbara shuddered as he sucked her hard nipples. She pitched herself toward him and the long copper-colored curtain of her hair enveloped them both as they fucked.

"Peter," she whispered, clinging to him desperately, alone in their world of two. "P-Peteeeeer... I... I..." She didn't get to finish her thought before he unlatched from her teat so he could kiss her pouty, panting mouth. She was glad she'd been interrupted. She didn't even know what she was about to say. Something unbelievably embarrassing, no doubt... But it all fell away with his tongue rolling wetly against hers and his brawny arms around her. Barbara kissed him back with everything she had left. She couldn't say whatever she'd meant to, but she hoped she could express it somehow with this, with him. She could feel his thrusts slow beneath her. Without him driving her up and down, she obviously wasn't bobbing as much and that raging rise in her chest was falling.

Damn it, she thought. She'd been so close...

Maybe it was her fault, since she'd shifted her arms from his shoulders. She'd grabbed the back of his hair with one hand for what she'd thought at the time would be leverage but she now realized was just lustful desperation and her other had shifted under his arm to clutch at those thick muscles on his back.

She reluctantly pulled away from his lips. "F-fuck-focus, Parker," she panted, her heavy breath kissing his lips since she couldn't right then. Luckily, he understood right away, and she felt that sharp, piercing rise followed by a long, deep plunge right before she crushed her mouth back to his. Barbara felt his hands on the small of her back now, still clinging to her skin in that inhuman way of his and still driving her pleasure.

"Oh! Keeping going," she begged as he kissed her throat. "Oh! Ah! Don't stop...."

He didn't. Whether it was per her instruction of pure primal instinct, she couldn't say. She couldn't say much of anything now that she was cumming again, the strange, ineffable language of orgasm squirming out of her in a squeal of nonsense as she shivered. She fell into it. Into him. All of that training about holding onto the moment completely escaped her as her satiny walls closed on his cock and a fire roared up from her belly. When she came back to reality, Peter was still inside her, hard as ever, but she was on her back now and his pumping had slowed.

When did we roll onto the floor? Barbara briefly wondered before impulse took over.

"Hah! Oh! Fuuuuuck! Barbara," Peter grunted as he fucked her in earnest, shoving relentlessly into her cunt now... "Buh-Barbara Gordon..."

"Noooo..." she whined. She realized instantly what he was doing. He was telling himself that he wasn't just inside her. He knew her. The thought terrified Barbara as she felt another climax threaten to claim her the same way he was trying to -- and worse, it thrilled her to the core at the same time. She couldn't help herself. She was still fighting this... Still fighting him and all that she felt for Peter Parker. "Uff! Uh! Uhn! Uff! Ah! Oh god..."

"Uhn! Uhn!" he groaned, pumping away at her cunt. As deep and as hard as he pistoned into her, she could still tell he was holding back, fighting to restrain himself from fucking her right through the floor. "I... I'm gonna cum," he told her.

"I want to... I need to feel it..." Barbara whimpered. In that brief, stupid moment she wished he wasn't wearing that condom. She wanted to feel him flood her cunt the same way he'd plastered her tits. She wanted Peter inside her in the worst possible way, but she fought all that desire to push him back, to get his dick out of her pussy. Her frantic fingers clutched at his slippery prick, desperately trying to peel off his rubber.

"Yowtch!" Peter grunted as she whipped it off. Before he could object, she drew his bare cock back into her cunt.

"Fuck me," she begged, her fingernails digging into his ass as she pulled him as deeply as she could. "Fuck me, Peter!"

"What?" Parker grunted. Whatever confusion was reeling through his mind, his body hadn't caught on, pushing into her without hesitation. Barbara felt his cheeks clench between her fingers with each rolling thrust into her. Honestly, Peter's naked cock didn't feel much different to her at first, but when she closed her eyes, the ridged veins of his shaft seemed to register... It might have been her imagination, but just the knowledge that he was fucking her raw made her shudder.

"Oh fuck," Peter bellowed above her with a guttural grunt. "Oh fuck, you're so wet..." Maybe it was all in her head, but it wasn't just in his. It couldn't just be in his, too, and that made a difference.

"Cuh-cum in me, Peter," she pleaded, tugging on him so hard her hips rose off the floor. "Cum inside me pleeease!!!"

Thick ropes of his seed lanced up into her. She wasn't making that up at least, she figured as his hot cum coated her insides. "Oh! Oh! Oh gaaawwwwwd!" She came again, writhing beneath him as he pumped her full of his jism. He slumped against her when he was done.

"W-Wallopin' web-snappers," Peter panted, rolling off of her. "That was kind of fantastic."

"It always is with you," Barbara murmured as quietly as she could. God, why had she said that? Why had she done this? Actually, she had a pretty good idea why she'd done this... That didn't mean it was the smart thing to do. "Duh-don't..." she said to herself... to him... to anyone who would listen... "Don't fall in love with me, nerd boy," she begged. He couldn't. She couldn't.

"Forgive me if I might be a little bit past that," he whispered, drawing her close.

"Maybe," she admitted, shifting herself over him so she could look him in the eye. "This won't end well for either of us..."

"Story of my life." He kissed her again. And she let him. Barbara was done fighting. At least for now.

Barbara closed her eyes, her attention enrapt by his lips against hers as his arms encircled her. She wasn't so distracted this time not to notice he was lifting her up and carrying her out of his living room.