Marry The Knight Ch. 08

He was big, he was so big, and he let Harley know it, too, going into her with an almost teasing slowness, keeping her eyes wide with anticipation, her body quivering with need. The tidy globes of her breasts jiggled as she vibrated with excitement, desperate for more, but holding still out of her submissiveness.

Her eyes got wider, wider, as he just kept pushing into her, filling her to a point she hadn't known she could be. Even Ivy only gave her so many fingers, so much tentacles. But Bruce was just so much... more.

"I think it likes me!" Harley said in a feeble attempt at joking, feeling him throb inside her.

Bruce ignored her, like she wasn't even worthy of attention beyond the tightness she provided his cock, and Harley thrummed at the thought. She was just his bitch. His tight little bitch for him to fuck. And she loved it. Sure, it was nice to cuddle and play and kiss with Ivy, that's what gal pals were for, but if she was going to be fucked—and fucked hard—she needed someone who could treat her that way. Like someone who needed it. Like a dirty, filthy addict that just needed their fix.

Bruce groaned, feeling her tighten on him. His hands purred up her flat belly, to the slopes of enticing flesh that led to her stiff nipples. Harley bit her lip as he dug into their softness, molded them to the contours of his hands with hearty squeezes. He kneaded and tugged her tits as if they were bread dough rather than sensitive flesh, grinding his callused fingers into her nipples, tugging, then flattening them down to her chest.

Harley moaned from deep in her throat, her nipples fattening to dark little targets for his hands. Noticing their erection, he found and fondled them, pinching and rolling them between his fingertips. Pulling on them, almost hurting her before the tight flesh slipped from his fingers and slapped back to her chest, where they glowed with pink warmth from his affection.

Then he slapped her left tit, spanked it really, making certain his palm connected with her already stinging nipples. Harley threw her head back, gargling in a way that had nothing to do with making herself appealing, everything to do with pleasure. He slapped her right breast, equally hard, and Harley's back arched. Presenting her heaving breasts for more.

She squealed as Bruce picked her up, forcing her breasts to his mouth as though she were weightless, sucking on them vampirically. She moaned, her cunt pulling tighter, tighter, as his mouth ravenously devoured her aching tit, giving her pain spiked with pleasure.

Then, holding Harley up to his face with one arm, Bruce took his free hand and brought it down on her ass, her thigh, her hip, making Harley's body bloom with two fires at once. She was moaning, groaning, going cross-eyed even before he ate her other breast. Then she was just breathing heavily, forcing air in and out of her lungs with the concentration of a monk.

She didn't even notice him putting his hand on her head until he pressed down, an inherently demeaning gesture, forcing her to take his cock right up to the base. Harley's eyes became two small moons as she discovered she could have an orgasm with a man.

"You're the best. You're better than Mistah J."

He hoisted her up, holding her to his chest with a hand pressed to the small of her back, and she instinctively wrapped her arms and legs around him to keep his cock inside her as he stood.

"You're the best." Harley crooned, his cock jostling in her pussy as he walked out of the room. "You're better than Mistah J."

She kept up the litany, nearly catatonic, as he carried her back to the bedroom she shared with Poison Ivy.

***

Ivy was enjoying a very nice dream before she woke. She had Batman trussed up, splayed helplessly between her vines, and naturally she had removed his utility belt so he couldn't use it to escape. Next, she'd strip off his armor to make sure he didn't have any tricks left to him, then she'd kiss him to put him down for good. But—where to kiss him?

Abruptly, Ivy jerked awake. Harley was elbows and knees on the bed, her sleek, petite ass up above her pillow for Ivy's inspection, the same tawny paleness as the rest of her. Ivy was about to yell at Harley not to start a pillow fight while she was trying to sleep, when suddenly she noticed the pink lips of Harley's cunt glinting through her dark pubic hair. They were moist.

"Take me from behind!" Harley panted. "Get up on me like a kid on a supermarket ride!"

"No," Bruce replied, eying her trembling ass. "Like a dog takes a bitch."

Ivy watched, eyes only open a crack, not sure she wasn't still dreaming as Bruce edged up behind the trim woman, hands grabbing Harley's ass, pressing hard into the vulnerable flesh. Squeezing it to an all-too-pleased redness. Harley whimpered with delight, hiding her face in the mattress as she thrust her ass even higher in the air. Bruce's grip tightened, turning Harley's slightly arched back to gooseflesh. Ivy couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Relinquishing his hold on her ass without hesitation, like he hadn't been enjoying it at all—he had, from the mammoth shadow growing between his legs—he ran his hand down Harley's legs, first the outsides of her thighs, then behind her knees, then up her inner thighs. They spread to his touch, Harley's ass now bearing down to press her cunt to his touch. He curled a finger, letting it be devoured by Harley's slit. Ivy could see how easily he slid inside. Harley was hot and wet and ready. Needy.

"Good girl," Bruce said. "Gooooood girl."

Her gripping folds sucked at his finger like a kiss, but nonetheless he pulled it free from her flooded channel, grabbing his cock, the feel of his own wettened finger on his length whetting his appetite. Gripping his full, throbbing length, he packed himself into her, Harley unable to keep from throwing herself backward as he drove in, slamming her ass against his cement-hard abs.

"Hard!" she grunted, loud enough that Ivy was sure she would've woken if this were a dream. "I got you so hard..."

"Yes," Bruce said, reaching up to run a hand through her hair, tapering it comfortingly down her back, her spine, her ass. "You did."

Harley's months without a man, her years without a giving male lover, had been long. She was bisexual, polyamorous, and Ivy could satisfy a great deal of her urges, but as a sub, Harley needed a strong master to feel complete—or at least, so her diagnosis went. And honestly, Ivy was something of a pushover. Harley could top from the bottom with far too much ease to take Red's domination of her too seriously. They were equals, and Harley knew she should like that, just like she shouldn't like the Joker, but it just didn't quite fit her.

She'd had to content herself with table scraps of the Joker's affection for years to get the approval and attention from him that she craved. Now, caught between Bruce's care, his affection, and his casual mastery of her and sexual prowess, her body lit like a fuse.

Harley covered her head with her hands, screeching into the mattress, kicking her feet as the pleasure continued unabated. She didn't want it to be over so soon. She expected that, even if Bruce was no Joker, this would still be like it often was with Ivy.

Ivy could be hella affectionate, but she could also get irritated with Harley, expecting cuddles on demand then running back to the Joker, and punishing her with the bare minimum she could give to keep Harley around. Just throwing Harley down on the floor, plowing into her, making her come just once with the ease that came from dating such an easy lay, then telling Harley to scram and going back to her work.

So it was with some surprise that Harley found her waist being encircled by Bruce's thick arms again, his fingers roughly pulling open her pussy as if it needed to be any more spread with his dick already penetrating it. Just as hastily, his fingertips probed her stingingly hard clitoris, and as Bruce's cock enjoyed the heated softness of Harley's cunt, he gave her clit the attention it wanted.

Harley came helplessly. Usually, the Joker didn't even notice he'd given Harley an orgasm—because he was asleep or looped out on pain meds from having his teeth knocked out again—and that negligence got Harley off just fine, but having Bruce fling himself into her dampness, his rough fingers grating on her swollen bud, it was like he was forcing her to have an orgasm, demanding it from her, not willing to settle for any ol' sigh or grunt she might make. No, he needed her to scream.

"HOLY FUCKING GEEZ, RED! I'M COMING! IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE? AWW, NERTZ, I FEEL LIKE I STUFFED A SELTZER BOTTLE IN MY PUSSY AGAIN!"

Ivy had no choice but to open her eyes in the face of that outburst. And she'd just thought she'd be able to touch herself under the sheet without them noticing.

"PLEASE DON'T STOP, MISTAH B, PLEASE KEEP FUCKIN'! JUST ONE MORE! I'LL BE YOUR GOOD GIRL, I SWEAR, YOU CAN WATCH ME AND IVY! I'LL SHOW YOU HOW WE USE THE RUBBER CHICKEN, YOU'LL LOVE IT!"

"Harl!" Ivy gritted out, growling through gritted teeth. She couldn't get the image out of her head; her and Bruce and Harley and the rubber chicken. If only that stupid clown only hadn't blown her cover, she could be fucking herself right now!

Bruce jerked away from Harley, shoving her down on her own pillow as he withdrew from her. Tears instantly filled Harley's eyes. "Uh-uh, uh-uh!" she moaned, driving her pussy into the mattress like she could conjure him back inside her.

"You want another orgasm?" Bruce asked, lying back on the bed. His cock loomed above his groin like a monolith. "Come and get it."

Harley scrambled up, throwing herself squealing onto Bruce. As he laid there, resting his head in his hands, she fucked herself on his erect shaft. Pushing and pulling, groaning and groaning, embedding his manhood deep within her, then yanking away from him, then throwing herself back to him. Trying desperately to replicate the age-old rhythm she had found with him, not quite succeeding, but it felt far too good to stop.

She leaned down, rubbing her breasts on his broad chest, peppering his face with kisses, even taking his hand and moving it to her ass, which he graciously groped. Harley bucked and twitched and twisted herself, trying to match the desperation of her lust to her final release, to fit it inside her lanky frame. Until, violently, wantonly, she was able to abandon her mind to the fire she stoked inside herself. Bruce kept a hand on her hip as she came, holding her down so she didn't throw herself from her straddling of his lap.

Then he switched places with her, rolling on top of her, pinning her down beside Ivy, her hair sticking to the sweat on Ivy's legs. "One for the road," he told her, more hard, driving thrusts seeming to destroy her pussy, replace it with bites and aches and pure, soaring pleasure. This time when she came there was no holding back. Her legs flew up, her hands flew out, accidentally slapping Ivy across the jaw as she gave Bruce everything she had.

He returned the favor, letting the heated load in his balls finally go free. He jetted into her grateful hole, Harley becoming gloriously aware of her own sex as he filled every inch of it with his seed. Then she collapsed under him, all the rigidity gone from her body, all the bones soft and formless, her collapse seeming to draw him down on top of her, to pant and moan and tremble with her in the fulfillment that held them.

His kiss was long and loving, and Harley rutted against him as he gave it to her, feeling his wilting cock inside her, his cum dripping from her, his marks on her breasts and ass and now, on her bruised lips. She was his. Wonderfully, amazingly his.

"Yes," she said simply, for once, her head crashing back against the bed. "I love you."

"I love you too. You're the best," he whispered meaningfully, before pulling out of her, leaving an empty vessel to enjoy being empty for a little while. Rising up on his knees, Bruce turned to Ivy, offering her his cum-soaked prick. "Open."

Stunned, overwhelmed by what she'd seen, the sheer magnitude of Harley's surrender, Ivy gave in instinctively. Without any preliminary licking, any kissing or handling, she opened her mouth into a gaping O and surrounded his cock with it.

"Clean it off," he told her, and watched her pouting lips inch forward toward the base of his cock.

Leaning back on his haunches, he relaxed, letting this damp sheath claim his prick, one hand caressing Ivy's cheek, the other reaching over to pet Harley like she was a cat sprawled across his lap. Together, they watched his cock disappear into Ivy's mouth, bludgeoning her with its sheer girth, jerking and jumping as her eager lips sucked and sucked. Cupping her chin, Bruce could feel the swirling lashes of her tongue under his fingertips.

Coming back to herself, Harley winded her slender arms around Bruce, pulling him back into her embrace and throwing her leg over his waist to spoon him. Bruce moved his pelvis back, as if dropping back from Harley's weight, and Ivy's eyes followed the escaping length of him that emerged from her clinging lips.

She sucked and licked more desperately, tasting the precum welling up from his glans to tease her, but he gathered her fiery hair in one large hand and held her still as he himself eased back into her mouth. Much as he might like to thrust his hips forward, fuck those exquisite lips or let himself be fucked by them, he didn't. Just glided into the sweet, caressing tenderness of her mouth at the pace he set. He was in control of the situation. They all knew it. Enjoyed it.

As he pumped in and out of Ivy's mouth, Harley peeled herself away from him. His free hand collared the back of her neck, pulling her in for one last demanding kiss, then he released her. A look between them told her he knew what she wanted to do and approved. Harley slipped down the conjoined couple—her husband and wife—pressing herself to Ivy's back as the green woman laid on her front, prostrate before the blowjob she was giving.

Harley's fingers teased Ivy's lips, like she would taunt a dog with a bone, and like an angry dog Ivy gave Harley a warning look. Harley's hand went to Bruce's balls next, feeling them thrumming with fresh cum for Wife No. 2, and she squeezed it lovingly before reaching downward. Over the soft slope of Ivy's back to the dark, hunter green of her ass. She found the puckered anal opening, teased over it as Ivy relaxed into her sucking—then drilled into it, burying her finger in Ivy's ass.

Bruce saw it, felt Ivy grunt and jerk forward so his cock was crammed roughly down her throat. Ivy groaned, but continued to suck, eyes closed to savor both the taste of him and the feel of Harley's finger wiggling and tickling in her anus. Harley was fucking her, Bruce was fucking her face. She groaned and shuddered with every movement in her holes, the void in her cunt somehow enhancing the feeling, not overwhelming her with pleasure but simply allowing her to feel each individual sensation to its fullest.

Bruce could be heard breathing, hard, as Ivy swirled and sucked over his stiff length, his hands on Ivy's cheeks, gently letting her move through his grip as she bobbed up and down on him. The pressure in his groin was returning to the breaking point. His thumbs wiped tears of joy from Ivy's cheeks. Harley's finger rasped in Ivy's ass and Bruce's cock burrowed into the warmth of her throat. She realized she was coming just as Bruce erupted in her mouth.

The next thing Ivy knew, the bed beneath her thighs was wet and everything tasted of men, except for the tiny ginger snap of Harley kissing her. Hungry for the mark Bruce had claimed her with.

"That's what Harley's pussy is going to taste like from now on," Bruce said, wiping his cock off on Harley's blonde hair. It had no cum on it. Just Ivy's saliva. "I plan to come in it every night."

Ivy wondered if, before she killed him, she could breed a Ferak with a cock at least half as big.

And if she could get its cum to taste right.