The sun had just begun to climb above the skyline, spilling soft gold through the streaked front windows of Gotham Pizza Co. Inside, the lights were still off, save for the flickering neon OPEN sign someone forgot to flip.
Behind the counter, the pizza guy was dead asleep.
He was hunched over the register, arms crossed under his head, his hoodie half-zipped and stained with tomato sauce. A crumpled napkin stuck to his cheek. Somewhere beneath the counter, a radio played smooth jazz far too classy for the setting. It wasn't him, the boss put it on. Classy Tony.
Then came the whoosh from outside the lone Gotham pizza place. The door opened but there were no footsteps. A moment later, a shadow fell over the counter. Boots clicked gently down on the tile.
"Rise and shine, Pizza Guardian."
The pizza guy blinked awake slowly, groaning. "Mrrh… Tony, just give me five more…minutes…"
Except he smelled something that was distinctly not his boss. Fresh, warm, a little floral, and somehow comforting, like spring itself. Like a woman who didn't have to put on perfume. He opened one eye and immediately shot upright.
Standing across the counter—hands on her hips, grinning like she owned the place—was Supergirl. Full costume and blonde hair glowing in the sunbeam behind her. Wait, there was no sun, it was just her beauty. Kryptonians, wow. Just wow. They definitely weren't human.
"S-Supergirl…!" The pizza guy nearly fell off the stool and caught himself on the edge of the counter. "Hi! Hi. Wow. Hi again."
"Hi," Supergirl said sweetly. Elbows on the counter and hands cupping her cheeks, she grinned. "I'm heading out on patrol to Metropolis. Couple supervillain hotspots lit up on the radar."
"R-right," he stammered, running a hand through his messy hair. "Metropolis. Y-you need a pizza for the road or something?"
Supergirl giggled. "Nah. I won't be around for a couple days and I just came by to leave you a little something."
He blinked. "Oh, okay. Err, what?"
Supergirl lifted her skirt, her fingers hooked onto her panties, and she rolled them down. She placed it with a flourish on the tip jar. Resting on top—neatly nestled like a crown jewel—were her red panties.
He stared at it.
"A gift from me to you," Supergirl said proudly, straightening up.
His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. She…she was going to fight commando!? Supergirl giggled at his reaction. It was a beautiful sound and his dick raged in his pants.
"You don't have to say anything," Supergirl said, already backing toward the door. "Just keep holding down the fort. Like I said, I'll back in a day-ish. Try not to—" She stopped herself. Jealousy was flaring up. "A-anyway, yeah!"
With a wink, she spun on her heel. Her cape flared behind her like a crimson flag. She pushed open the door and the pizza guy found the sense to at least see her out. She didn't immediately bolt away, she lingered in the air. As she reached the threshold of ten feet, the nearby streetlight caught her just right, making her look almost mythic. Oh, and her ass and the glint of her pussy, he saw those as well.
His dick reacted. It persisted in its need to rip through his pants. Whoosh.
Supergirl was gone.
Soaring skyward, her cape dancing behind her, leaving the pizza guy staring up. His dick really wanted to catch another glance. Alas, she was too much of a blur to catch the fact that she was genuinely going commando.
He stood there, outside the pizza shop, a semi-erect cock awakening and finding nobody to fuck. There was that number he got from Starfire…
He walked back inside, not quite knowing what to do. Supergirl was the kind of girl that guys jerked off with her smile alone. Taken men saw her on television and the women were instantly envious. The crystal blue eyes and the laughter she let out, it was pristinely beautiful.
Unfortunately, any further thoughts were rudely interrupted by the landline ringing. The pizza guy jogged over.
"Hello?"
There was a long pause on the other end. "This is the pizza delivery men I met?"
"H-huh?"
"I am Mera. I am at the lighthouse. Bring me a pizza, please. Thank you."
The phone hung up right then and there. It was easily among the strangest phone calls he had ever had. But...come on, he knew this was about.
'R-right, the Queen of Atlantis. So she's still there at the lighthouse, huh? I should still have the address on my GPS…'
"Wait, what kind of pizza should I make?"
Would literal royalty appreciate simple cheese pizza?
"What if she's one of those pineapple pizza types…? Wait, aren't Atlanteans pescatarians or something?"
He did a quick search on the internet. Apparently, the diet of Atlanteans did consist of fish. There were even pizza based on their diet. The pizza guy scratched his head.
"Better than nothing," he murmured.
***
He made the pizza. He went to the lighthouse. He knocked on the door. He waited. He was slightly nervous. Last time, he didn't expect the literal queen of a nation to come out. This time, well, he did. He knew she was behind the door.
He knew when he saw a flash of red, that he had to keep his wits about.
"Bring it inside." Mera didn't bother with a greeting upon opening the door. Her tone of voice was flat, almost bored, as if this were the most mundane request in the world.
The pizza guy clutched the warm box tighter in his hands. Right. He'd been here before and the same queenly redhead had answered the door. But this time, she was slightly different although still as hot and sex. There was this natural fuck-me look to Mera. Her brows furrowed and her eyes were sharp. It was…come on, it was erotic. It shouldn't have been, really, she was just speaking coldly, but perhaps because of all his previous interaction with women, his mind was beginning to mix signals. Her gorgeous red hair clung to her neck in damp tendrils and the faint scent of saltwater and something floral lingered in the air.
'Did she go swimming recently?'
Mera was no longer in her badass, skin-tight costume either. She wore a loose green robe that showed off her side-boobs.
Mera then left the door and turned. The robe gave her ass a tight look.
"T-thank you," he stammered, stepping inside the lighthouse. The place was sparse, almost clinical, with no sign of life beyond the faint hum of the ocean outside. He set the pizza down on a small table, glancing around nervously. "That'll be $18.50."
Mera didn't move to grab her wallet. Instead, she crossed her arms, her gaze steady. "I need something from you."
"Uh… what?"
"Your clothes," Mera said.
His brain short-circuited. "M-my clothes?"
"Yes." Her tone didn't waver. "I need them."
He stared at her, trying to process the request. This wasn't exactly how he imagined his night going. "Look, uh, ma'am—"
"Mera," she corrected, her voice sharp. "Queen Mera."
His mouth went dry. Queen Mera. As in, Aquaman's wife. As in, Justice League royalty. Obviously, he'd seen her on the news, but up close, she was… well, stunning. And now she was standing in front of him, asking for his clothes.
"W-why do you—?"
"The other one's clothes don't fit me," Mera explained briefly. Other one? The pizza guy had no idea who this was. By process of elimination, it had to be the original owner of the lighthouse. Whom she knocked out.
He just realized he probably shouldn't keep her waiting.
"O-okay," he said slowly, dragging the word out like he was trying to buy time. He started to tug on his collar. "U-um, just the shirt or—"
"Pants and shirt. I will return them to you when I return. You will stay here."
What was he supposed to do, fight her? Clearly, something was up and she needed clothes. The first buttons of his shirt were coming undone and he gulped to himself. "So, uh, what's the mission? You don't have to tell me the whole story, ma'am."
Her expression softened slightly, though her eyes remained intense. "My sister, Hila—also known as Siren—has taken my place. She has manipulated Arthur into believing I committed terrorist acts within our oceans. I did not. I was set-up, and I suspect with aid with a crime lord from Gotham City. No one believes me. Not even the Justice League."
"Is the evidence that damning?"
"It is…complicated, but yes," Mera admitted bitterly. "To the point that my own husband is considering banishing me forever. Batman and Superman are the only ones who do believe me, and they told me to stay here, to observe. But I cannot stay hidden forever. I need to leave and investigate this villain. And to do that, I need your clothes."
The pizza guy blinked again, his mind racing. This was… a lot. A lot a lot. But she was a queen, and this sounded important. Bigger than him. Bigger than pizza deliveries.
"Alright," he said finally, nodding. "If it's that important, I'll do it."
Mera gave him a small, grateful smile. The first real emotion he'd seen from her since he arrived. "Thank you."
The buttons undone, he started with his black shirt, pulling it over his head and handing it to her. She took it without a word, her eyes scanning him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. He did wear an undershirt, luckily. Next came his shoes, then his socks. Finally, he reached for his pants, hesitating for just a moment before unbuttoning them and letting them fall to the floor.
Here was the thing he completely forgot.
During the pizza-making session—specifically the wait time—he thought back to Supergirl. She did leave him her panties after all. He took her panties and, well, uh, jerked off to them. So when he ended up cumming and basking in the heat of it, he got dressed in a rush when he heard the beeps of the pizza being finished. He ran into his car, boxers left on the table, and here he was.
In other words, the pizza guy's huge, flaccid cock sprang free, hanging heavily between his legs. The pizza guy flushed but pushed past the embarrassment. 'T-this is bigger than me. This is about a kingdom and stuff,' he told himself.A big sausage dangled as he shifted and moved to take off his pants. In a way normal penises did not.
When he looked up, he saw Mera's next stage of emotions: shock. Utter shock. Eyes were wide and her red lips parted as she stared.
"S-sorry, forgot to, uh, wear them," the pizza guy murmured while offering his pants to her. She did not immediately take them. Her mouth opened and closed and her eyes just kept flicking down to his cock.
"I-I-I see." Mera tried to reach for his pants, only to miss. All because of his big dick. Upon her second attempt, she got a grip. "You are…impressive. Are all full-blooded humans… this hung?"
Full-blooded humans. Wasn't the king…? Ah. He choked on air, his face turning crimson. "Uh… I don't know."
The queen had his pants and his shirt hanging from her sides. Her eyes never left his dick, and he could feel the weight of her stare like a physical touch.
"Arthur…" Mera she murmured, more to herself than to him. "He's nothing like this."
The pizza guy swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't sure what to say—or do—so he just stood there, obedient to her scrutiny.
He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he just watched as she stepped back, clutching his clothes to her chest.
"Wait here," Mera said, her voice regaining its confidence, if only for a second. "I will…I will be back soon."
And with that, she turned and disappeared into a room, leaving him standing there in nothing but an undershirt. Cock hanging out, awkward and cold. Because damn, it was cold in this lighthouse. Probably because it was close to the water.
The pizza guy let out a shaky breath. This was… insane. Completely and utterly insane. But as he stood there, waiting for whatever came next, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of anticipation building in the pit of his stomach.
The door creaked open and Mera stepped back into the room. Do you know what the pizza guy expected? For the queen to be dressed and handing him the robes to cover himself up. The queen was a queen, so of course she wasn't going to dress in front of a commoner.
Except, well, she did the complete opposite of what he thought she would do. She opened the door completely naked. Queen Mera, her hourglass figure a masterpiece—every curve and every line and even the slit of her pussy revealed. Her complexion was almost pale, though it wasn't quite so, only damp from whatever the hell she had been doing before, and her fiery red hair cascaded over her shoulders like liquid flame. Her breasts were full and round, their softness accentuated by the way they swayed slightly as she marched forward. Her nipples were taut, a deep rose color that seemed to beckon his gaze. Her waist was narrow, leading down to hips that flared just enough to make his mouth water.
But it was her eyes that held him captive. Those piercing green orbs, usually so regal and composed, now burned with something raw and primal. They were locked onto his cock, which had begun to stir the moment she reentered the room. By the time Mera reached him, the pizza guy was fully erect—a thick, throbbing twelve inches of flesh that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat.
"S-sorry," he said without meaning it.
"There is…no need." Mera peered down. She swallowed thickly. "By the tides…" she whispered. She reached down and her cold fingers wrapped around the erect tip. Her touch was tentative at first, as if she were afraid he might vanish if she pressed too hard. But then her grip tightened and she began to stroke him slowly, her hand gliding up and down the four inches of cockhead alone. It made his knees weak.
"I…apologize," Mera said. "For taking your clothes. I will need them and I will return them. You have my word."
"R-right, I get that. I understand," he said.
"I am…glad." Flickering, nervous eye contact between the two. "I…owe you. I do."
"N-nonsense—I mean, aside from the eighteen bucks, you don't."
"Mm." She smiled. "You are funny."
"I do my best, ma'am."
"I believe," Mera said, "I shall reward you. As queen, it is only right."
Her grip tightened. Her hands stroked down further and further, no longer restrained by the cockhead. To her, it felt like his cock got girthier down the line. She bit her bottom lip and her gaze was glued downward.
"I ask again: Is this… normal for humans?" Mera asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and he saw the hunger there—the need to know, to understand, to feel. He was unable to form words as her hand continued its gentle exploration.
So Mera took that as a yes.
"My husband was half-Atlantean. A pity he did not inherit his human side."
Her tone was laced with bitterness, but also something else, something dark and vengeful. She sank to her knees before him, her eyes never leaving his face despite the drop. Her free hand trailed down his thigh, her nails lightly scraping his skin.
She was thinking. She was contemplating, even as the big cock shadowed her.
"A reward…."
She was a queen. To kneel for another was wrong. It went against everything she believed in. It went against everything she was known for.
But then she considered the fact that her husband was doing the same to another woman and seethed.
Mera did it. Her tongue slipped out and traced a line from the base to the tip. "Mwah!" And then ended it with a kiss. The pizza guy couldn't suppress the groan that escaped his lips. Mera's smile widened at the sound. "Sensitive, I see."
"A-are you sure about this?"
"You think me nervous? I am Queen Mera of Atlantis. I do not get nervous."
Her tongue rolled out again and lathered up his balls. From the right testicle, her tongue drifted generously in circles. She took her sweet time, never breaking eye contact, never wanting him to feel anything other than divine confidence. As his dick throbbed needlessly, a burst of pre-cum flung out. She smirked and accelerated her tongue worship, going from stripes to lashing. Teasing his nutsack and making him throb angrily. Another wad of pre-cum flew out.
"N-nnghh…!"
Queen Mera…
She was good at this. No, she was experienced at this. The saliva that was leftover left a tingly sensation behind. Her hand pulled behind his sack and her fingers slipped through, holding his nuts preciously.
Then she kissed his testicles, one by one, and followed up with a juicy suckling.
"M-Mera…!"
"Using my first name? How cute~!" she said telepathically. The skill kept improving by leaps and bounds. Her dedication to his balls was astounding.
That was when she pulled back and planted a kiss to the tip of his cock again. "Mwah!" That was when he saw her eyes. He swore he saw greed. He saw a sliver of her fetish.
Promptly, to keep him on his toes, her red lips opened wide and took him into her mouth. Giant as he was, she struggled to actually take anything more than the head of his cock. Still, there was that delicious wet, sucking sound.
That's right, the Queen of Atlantis was sucking his dick.
Her mouth was hot—so hot—and the way her tongue swirled around him was almost too much to bear. She took him deeper, inch by agonizing inch, until he felt the back of her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut as she began to move, her head bobbing up and down in a rhythm that was both maddening and exquisite. Her hands gripped his hips, holding him steady as she worked him with a skill that left him breathless.
The pizza guy's hands found their way to her hair, tangling in the silken strands as he fought to keep himself from thrusting into her mouth. But Mera seemed to sense his struggle, and she pulled back slightly, her lips still wrapped around him as she looked up at him with those smoldering green eyes.
"Don't hold back." No. Way. She was speaking to him telepathically. "I want to feel all of you."
She really was. Wow. Queen Mera was using actual telepathy while sucking a stranger's dick.
"I, uhh, ngggh…! I thought you could only speak to—"
"Fish? Yes, fish, and lovers. Before you…."
Only Arthur.
Her telepathy in this case was more than mere words. They amplified the dicksucking sensations. They were like a spark to a kindle and he couldn't resist any longer. His hips bucked forward and he plunged several inches of cock down her throat. Mera did not expect this commoner to just fucking take her throat.
She decided she liked it, so she reeled back and then took MORE of his cock. From seven inches to eight. Adjusting, adjusting, tightening up, making him groan, and then going deeper.
The redhead bobbed to and fro. Except as she pleased him, his dick throbbed. Here was the thing with monster cocks: every little throb made a hell of a difference.
Queen Mera lost control and had to drag herself off his dick, coughing. An arm wiped at her mouth.
"H-hey, look, this isn't…"
"My husband's cock? I know." Mera looked up with a proud smirk. "I've never had to struggle with taking every inch of his. But yours…"
There was a pride in herself. Knowing that while her husband was fucking another woman, she too was finding her own man.
She slotted his cock down her throat again. Less effort this time too. Her hands moved to his ass, pulling him closer and deeper. Ten inches now. The wet sounds of her mouth working him filled the room, mingling with their ragged breaths and the occasional moan that escaped his lips. Her eyes remained locked on his and he could see the fire burning within them—a fire fueled by anger, by betrayal, by a need for revenge.
Her husband betrayed her, whether he knew it or not, and she wanted to clap back.
There was something else there too. A hunger that went beyond mere retribution. A desire to lose herself in this moment, to forget about Arthur and Hila and the mess they'd made of her life. To feel something real, something raw and unfiltered.
The queen said it herself. The pizza guy was far bigger than Arthur ever was.
And she was feeling it now. Every inch of his cock, every thrust of his hips, every drop of precum that spilled into her mouth—it was all hers. And she reveled in it.
Her free hand slipped between her own legs, her fingers finding the slick heat that had been building there since the moment she'd laid eyes on him. She moaned around his cock as she touched herself, her hips rocking in time with the movements of her mouth.
The pizza guy could feel himself getting close, the pressure building in his balls as Mera's mouth worked him with an intensity that bordered on desperation. He tried to warn her, to pull back, but she only took him deeper, her throat tightening around him as if daring him to let go.
"Cum!" she ordered him.
"C-cumming!"
His baby batter surged into her mouth in hot, pulsing waves. Mera's eyes fluttered shut as she swallowed every drop, her own climax crashing over her as she continued to finger herself. She let out a muffled cry around his cock as she orgasmed and tried to swallow.
She didn't fail either. She swallowed it all too. Cum did not fall in immense heaps nor did his dick flop out. Queen Mera took every. Damn. Drop.
"T-there's so—"
"Much. I know."
Her telepathy! I-it was somehow making him cum even more! It was ridiculous, his balls felt tight! Like they were coming together as one!
The pizza guy groaned. She couldn't take every inch of his cock, stuck at ten inches, but god damn could she swallow! It was almost strange in how little she reacted to his load. She did not seem surprised. The volume did not deter her or impress her. When it was over, she pulled back slowly, her lips still wrapped around him as she sucked gently, coaxing out the last few drops. Then she released him with a soft pop, her tongue darting out to catch any stray traces of cum.
She looked up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and filled with satisfaction. "You humans have your biological advantages," she said, "and us Atlanteans have our own. We always, and I mean, always swallow. And this…was just the beginning."
The last, thick pulse of his release was still echoing in the back of her throat when Queen Mera's attention—her true, obsessive attention—drifted lower. His immense cock, now softening and slick with her saliva, was a marvel, truly. But it was merely the delivery system.
Her focus, her worship, was reserved for what lay beneath.
The pizza guy experienced a snippet of it before, of Mera's and the Atlantean culture. Now, he was going to face it in full force.
Her fingers, cool and elegant, trailed down his still-thrumming shaft, a mere transit to their true destination. They cupped the heavy, pendulous sac that hung between his legs. A low, reverent sigh escaped her lips, fogging the delicate skin.
"Gods, the weight of them. You came ten times as much as my husband."
The profound, aching fullness she could feel even through the sack. They were still drawn up tight from his climax, a pair of twin suns radiating the heat of a spent universe.
"We are so… different, you surface-dwellers," she murmured, her voice a husky rasp. She nuzzled the sack, inhaling the raw, musky, utterly masculine scent of him—of his labor, his delivery, his essence. "You focus on the sword. The blade. The thing that strikes. We Atlanteans… we worship the forge from which it is fired. The seed. That which we can drink."
He shuddered, his hips giving an involuntary jerk as her palms pressed more firmly, massaging the incredible fullness. "Your… what?" he breathed, one hand going to her fiery red hair to keep balance. This orgasm had been different. The telepathy made it feel more like five orgasms than one.
"The source," Mera whispered, her lips now brushing against his sack. "The wellspring of life. The balls. To us, these… these are the seat of power. The most sacred, the most potent…" She looked up at him, her sea-green eyes blazing with a need that was both carnal and devotional. "I must worship them properly."
He could only nod, a strangled sound of affirmation catching in his throat. Looking at them again, the cock above her, they were magnificent. A generous, heavy-set pair, thickly veined and hanging with a proud, weighty sway. The skin was drawn taut from his recent climax, yet they looked impossibly full, a lush map of blueish veins beneath the surface. They bore the faint, honest scent of salt and man and work.
"Perfect," Mera breathed, the word a prayer.
She didn't just take them in her hand. She cradled them. One palm slid beneath, lifting their satisfying heaviness, supporting them like priceless jewels. Her other hand gently, so gently, cupped them from the front. Her thumbs stroked the sensitive skin of his perineum, making his whole body tense.
Then she leaned in, and her tongue, flat and cool, delivered one long, slow, worshipping lick from the very base of his shaft, over the throbbing root, and up the undercurve of his scrotum.
He cried out, a guttural shout that echoed in the vast room, his knees buckling slightly. "Christ!"
"Not Christ," Mera corrected softly, her lips hovering millimetres from his skin. "Mera." And then she took one plump orb into her mouth.
The telepathy combined with her worship was utterly alien to him. Her mouth was cool, wet, impossibly soft, and multiplied by ten. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive globe, lavishing it with attention, tracing the prominent veins, savoring the texture of the skin and the solid, generative treasure within. A low, continuous moan vibrated from her throat into his very core, the hum of her pleasure mingling with his. She suckled gently, not with the desperate hunger she'd used on his cock, but with a deep, reverent appreciation. She was a connoisseur tasting the finest vintage.
She released it with a soft pop, her attention immediately shifting to its twin, giving it the same lavish, adoring treatment. Her hands never stilled, one massaging the twin she'd just abandoned, the other kneading the firm muscle of his inner thigh.
He was hardening again, impossibly fast, his cock stirring back to life and brushing on her hair. She ignored it, entirely consumed by her devotion to the source. This was her altar, and she was the most faithful of acolytes.
After what felt like an eternity of this blissful torture, she drew back, leaving both balls glistening and heavy. Her eyes were glazed with lust. "I need to feel them," she panted, her regal composure shattered into a thousand pieces of raw need. "I need to feel them slapping against me while I ride you. Now."
She rose to her full height and pulled him into a kiss. Her boobs pressed against his chest and he struggled to fight back as he was shoved onto the couch. The pizza guy had fucked many women, but damn! "Mmmpppph~!"
Mera was making out with as though he had gone to war! The lighthouse was not well lit and the sound of crashing waves outside only added to the primal energy coursing through them. It almost felt like they were outside. The pizza guy's hands went to her ass and slapped it into a grip.
The couch creaked under them as Mera leaned in, her hair spilling like a curtain of red silk around his face. Her kiss was commanding, hungry, the kind that made him forget he even had lungs. He sank deeper into the cushions, pinned beneath her, her body pressing against his with all the weight of someone who knew exactly how much power she carried.
When she broke the kiss, she lingered close, lips brushing his jaw as she whispered, "Do you always tremble this much?" Her voice was teasing, almost smug, like she already knew the answer.
He swallowed hard. His cock was jammed between her thighs. "Y-you're a queen. Pretty sure I'm allowed."
Her laugh was low and throaty. She kissed him again, harder this time. His hands groped her ass cheeks. Phew, what an ass it was. Heart-shaped and smooth like no other ass he had felt before. He slapped it for the second time and relished in the jiggle. He suspected Atlantean women had softer, jigglier asses because it was one hell of an ass jiggle.
She smirked against his lips, eyes glinting like the ocean at sunrise. "Bold," she murmured. "I expect nothing less from a man with a cock double that of my king. But don't think for a second you are the one leading."
Pinned beneath her, with her kisses bruising and her body pressing him down, he had no doubt about that. And yet… he didn't mind at all.
Mera didn't care about the consequences anymore too. She didn't care about Arthur, about Atlantis, about anything except the throbbing, monstrous cock that had just been in her mout.h
She detracted and shifted herself so that she was sitting on his lap, her thighs straddling him. She smirked and then lifted her butt. Her bare pussy pressed down the tip of his cock. The absurd size of him made her cunt squeeze out her pussy juices.
"Y-you really want to do this?"
Mera was different. It wasn't the royalty that made him hesitate but the marriage factor. Then again, Arthur was apparently cheating on her, right…?"
"I need this. I need you inside me. Right now."
The pizza guy understood, nodding, and his hands gripped her hips as he guided her down onto him. Mera gasped as the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance, stretching her wide open. "Oh my Poseidon—!" she moaned, her head falling back as he slowly pushed into her, inch by agonizing inch. "Y-you are big…! S-so big! Nnngghhh…!"
Five inches, six inches…!
"Already deeper than Arthur! Mmmppph! T-this cock! This HUMAN cock!" Mera gasped. She looked him in the eye only for her confidence to melt. "Y-you're splitting me open!"
Mera was no virgin or anything like that. Yet, like all women, once she had the pizza delivery man balls deep inside her that she understood.
It was bigger. It was bigger. And no other man after could compete. Certainly not her husband and certainly not any other Atlantean. This human cock…
"I-it's changing my pussy!" Her nails dug into his shoulders as she adjusted to the feeling of being completely filled. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her voice rising with each word. "You're so much bigger than Arthur! So MUCH fucking bigger!"
He was fully inside. The tip kissed the womb, though the sensation was different. Whether it was the end or the beginning, her side-walls or her womb, everything was slippery and wet, to the point that any pre-cum immediately merged. Another biological difference perhaps?
'Or maybe it's just Mera?'
Because if all Atlanteans had super wet pussies, he suspected the politicians of the human world would immediately sign a dozen treaties for peace. Then again, from what he saw on the news, that exact thing was already happening.
Oh well. The pizza guy didn't say a word, his hands tightening on her hips as he began to move. Mera cried out as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into her, his cock hitting every sensitive spot inside her.
One thrust, two thrusts—
"Oh Arthur! This COCKKK~! It's SO much bigger than yours—!"
Third, fourth, fifth…
"Oh my Poseidon!! Oh, Ancient Atlanteans! Oh my ancestors! I am sorry! I am sorry! T-this human cock! This human cock is RUINING MY PUSSY!"
'Sheesh, five thrusts and she's already losing her mind?'
It wasn't like he was fucking her particularly hard either. He was just going up and down. You know, on the slower side of things.
"Fuck me! Fuck me harder! I need it!"
Mera wanted it faster and her pussy was drenching and wringing his cock for it too. So he shifted from hips to ass and then slammed upward. His hips lurched off the couch and it felt like they were both in mid-air.
He landed and he started fucking her in-earnest.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
Mera was more resilient than he expected, because she did not break immediately. She orgasmed, she moaned, but her mind was in one-piece.
"Yes! Yes! YES! FUCK me like the QUEEN I am!" Her hands gripped his shoulders for support. She expected him to do all the work and he did. The pussy was too good to try and be selfish and make her work. "Make me forget about him! Make me forget about everything except your cock!"
The pizza guy's hands were on her ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he pounded into her. Mera's pussy was dripping wet and every sound was amplified by her telepathy. The pizza guy didn't get it. He just thought this was some kinky hot thing that she decided to do with him.
He didn't understand that sex-telepathy was reserved only for royal family marriage. For soulmates that were to rule Atlantis and needed a deep-seated bond. He didn't understand that not all Atlanteans could use telepathy, only a select few.
He was just some pizza guy, how was he supposed to know? How was he supposed to know that her telepathy brought forth his deepest, darkest desires?
"I'm going to make you cum so hard, you won't be able to walk."
Those were thoughts and they creeped into his movements. Mr. Nice Guy was dissipated as he gave into his instincts and his balls smacked her booty. As he fucked her hard and without mercy. As he lived up to, "You won't be able to walk."
Mera's eyes rolled back as she felt orgasm after orgasm overwhelm her. "Yes! Yes! MAKE ME CUM! FUCK ME UNTIL I CAN'T THINK!" she screamed, her body trembling as he continued to thrust into her. Her pussy clenched around him, her walls tightening as she reached the edge. "OH, MY PEOPLE! I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING! YOUR QUEEN IS CUMMING BECAUSE OF HUMAN COCCKKKK~!!!"
She came harder than she ever had before. She tightened down on the cock harder than ever before. The wetness and the juices, everything was different. It felt like every orgasm and every drop of pussy juice she experienced by her husband was false. The pizza guy had double the cock and gave ten times the orgasms.
Their minds became more deeply entwined the more she orgasmed. Her pleasures were bleeding into his.
"You're so fucking hot," he groaned as he slammed into her. "I'm going to fill you up. I'm going to make you mine!"
Was this really him speaking? Were these words Queen Mera's desires and expectations, flowing through him?
Who knows?
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
'Who cares!?' the pizza guy thought.
It was sex. It was a connection between a man and a woman that should have fucked but never could. Because of their origins, because of marriage, because of so many circumstances.
Mera began to think that this was how telepathy-sex should be. That her first-time with Arthur and the slow, gentle sex was but a mockery of their ancient traditions. This human taught her real sex. He taught her what the royal tradition was truly about.
"G-gonna cum!"
On their first night together, Mera did not let Arthur cum inside her.
"Yes! Cum inside me! Fill me up! Wipe away Arthur's seed!"
On her first night with the pizza guy, she openly wanted cum to flood her womb.
It was not a flood. It was a cataclysm.
His back arched violently. His hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise a normal woman but not her, slamming her down onto him as his own hips pistoned upward.
The first pulse was a torrent, a scalding geyser that hit her deepest walls. The Atlantean wife cried out, her own climax triggered instantly by the shocking, internal heat of it. But it didn't stop. The second pulse was stronger, a deeper, thicker wave that made her eyes roll back in her head. The third was a convulsion that shook his entire frame and she felt the hot rush fill her to overflowing.
The connection between them snapped in that moment.
Instinctively, she hugged him with her breasts and he groaned loudly as he emptied himself into her. Mera moaned as she felt it filling her, the warmth spreading through her cunt. She understood why this was happening: the telepathy. She did this. She caused this. She rewired his brain to cum more.
This was nothing like her husband, that much she understood from the very first spurt. She knew this was going to take a while.
She began to move, a slow, deep, rolling grind of her hips. She set a rhythm that was less about frantic pounding and more about a deep, internal massage, a milking pressure designed to coax forth everything he had.
Boobs in his face, he came and came, and this time, she could not swallow it down her throat. This time, it was up to her pussy to gobble it all down. Atlantean pussy was different from human pussy. It could absorb liquids. The way the sperm reached the egg was different too.
But some things stayed the same with the pizza guy, no matter the species. As his cock pumped her, his seed drizzled out of her pussylips.
It kept going. A fortieth, seemingly impossible surge, and a fiftieth, a sixtieth, a seventieth—she lost count. It was a seemingly endless eruption, a volcanic offering that flooded her, cramming her full until she felt distended, until the excess began to seep out around their joined bodies in warm, thick rivulets that dripped onto his thighs and the sofa below. The feeling was one of absolute, decadent fullness, of being claimed and filled in a way she had never imagined possible. It was a five-fold, a ten-fold offering, a testament to the limitless source she had so rightly revered.
The pizza man went limp, his head lolling back, utterly spent. Mera slumped forward, her hands on his chest, her own body quivering with the aftershocks. She was drenched, both inside and out, in his absurd, magnificent offering.
She lifted her head, a slow, supremely satisfied smile spreading across her lips. She looked down at the man beneath her, his eyes closed, his chest heaving.
Oh, and his hands still gripping her ass.
This was not over. Not yet.
…
…
…
The lighthouse stood tall and solitary on the jagged Gotham coastline, its beam cutting through the fog like a blade. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of saltwater and something far more primal.
Mera, Queen of Atlantis, was perched on the edge of a wooden table, her legs spread wide, her royal composure replaced by a primal feminine, cock-hungry smirk. Her hands gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white as she braced herself for what was coming next.
The pizza guy and his cock stood between her thighs. His cock—fuck, his cock—thick and throbbing, already glistening with her arousal. He wasn't just big; he was monstrous, a weapon of pleasure that made Arthur's look like a child's toy. Mera couldn't stop staring at it, her lips parted, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She'd never seen anything like it. Never felt anything like it.
It took a long time to recover from that first climax. The telepathy levelled things out between them, and yes, they both understood it was the pizza guy who had to drop down to her level. Not Mera.
His hands gripped her hips, his fingers almost reaching into the soft flesh of her ass cheeks—fuck, her ass was a masterpiece, round and full, like two perfect peaches begging to be devoured.
Her pussy was no longer gushing with his cum. Her Atlantean biology took a long, long while but after thirty minutes, it was able to suck it all up. He slapped his cock on her pussy. He waited for permission again.
"Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Make me forget I'm a queen."
"Yes, ma'am." He didn't need to be told twice. With one brutal thrust, he buried himself inside her, stretching her wide, filling her in ways she didn't know were possible. This was a different position, a different angle, and without the telepathy either. This was simply raw cock.
Mera's head snapped back, a scream tearing from her throat as pleasure exploded through her body. Her nails clawed at the table, leaving deep gouges in the wood as he began to move, his hips slamming into hers with a force that made the entire table shake.
"Oh my POSEIDON~!!" she gasped, her eyes rolling back as he pounded into her. "Your cock—fuck—it's so big!!! So much better than his! So much BETTER—!"
"Thank you, ma'am."
"C-cumming! CUMMMING!!! ALREADY CUMMING!!!!"
Her boobs jiggled. Mera herself picked out this position. She wanted to lay down and just get fucked. She didn't want to ride or anything, she just wanted dick. She wanted to be rewarded for all her troubles.
"W-wait! WAIIIT!! H-HOLD ON JUST ONE SECOND! ONE SECOONNND!!" A hand touched his chest and he stopped. Mera squirmed and breathed heavily. "G-good gods…y-you make me cum…so easily…"
"It's no problem," the pizza guy said kindly.
"H-how did you…where, haah, did you learn this?" she asked in between breaths. "Tell me."
"Mm…I guess porn? Other humans," he replied.
"O-other humans…?"
Mera's thoughts on the human world had completely flipped from that casual remark. All the terrorism, all the conflict, and her opinions went from distrusting to supremely positive.
"We can try a mating press later," he said.
"A-a what—?"
Thrust. All twelve inches went inside. All that cock and she orgasmed. Again.
"Y-yes! YES!!! THANK YOU!! THANK YOU, HUMAN! HUMAN COCKKK! BIG HUMAN COCKKK!!!"
Only the pizza guy could give it to her. He made all this worth it.
She was his slut. And she loved it. Her breasts bouncing wildly with the force of their fucking. Feeling herself unraveling, her orgasm scorching her mind with every stroke, every slap of skin against skin.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her voice breaking as he hit a spot inside her that made her see stars. "I'm gonna cum. Oh GODS, I'm gonna CUM—!"
With a scream that could have shattered glass, Mera came undone. She couldn't grip anything or break the table, her mind just went blank except for the sheer ecstasy of it all.
But he wasn't done. Not even close. As soon as her orgasm began to subside, he flipped her onto her stomach, bending her over the table. If this was an ordinary woman, they wouldn't have been able to do jack shit. But after Supergirl and Wonder Woman, the pizza guy was getting used to fucking bitches with super strength and super speed. Women who could fight for literal hours.
Her ass was in the air now and the pizza guy commented, "You did say you wanted to feel them slapping against you. This position is better for that."
Human fingers, regardless of skin tone or calluses, were a stark contrast against Queen Mera's alabaster skin. The broad, slick head of his cock found her entrance, and with a single, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself fully inside her with a wet, echoing slap.
Mera screamed, a sound of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, her back arching. The feeling of being so utterly filled was divine, but her eyes, heavy-lidded and desperate, flew to the gilded mirror on the opposite wall. This lighthouse did not belong to a rich man. It belonged to some random sailor who inherited the job through the family.
The mirror was half-cracked. The whole place was unkempt. Yet there. There. There it was. The glorious sight she craved.
With every piston-like drive of his hips, his heavy sac swung forward, smacking firmly against her ass. His cock going inside her slick, sensitive folds with a lewd, rhythmic thwap. Each impact sent a jolt of pure lightning through her clit, a secondary, breathtaking percussion to the deep, internal pounding.
This lighthouse was not worthy of Queen Mera, yet here she was, joyous and grinning and…
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"I'M SOOO HAPPPY!!! I'M SOO HAPPY THAT I MET THIS COCCKKK!!"
Her cheeks jiggled with every thrust as he slammed into her from behind. Mera's face was pressed against the table, drool pooling beneath her as she moaned incoherently.
"You're welcome," he said, slowing down. Without the telepathy, his normal self was at the forefront. His casual, sex-god attitude was back. "I guess you like being fucked like a whore?"
"Y-y-yes," she whimpered. Though they were talking, he was still fucking her and her voice was barely audible over the sound of their bodies colliding. "Fuck me harder. Please. I need iiiiit…!"
The pizza guy chuckled. If her husband was hearing her now…phew. Still, he wasn't going to leave a perfectly good redhead wanting. His cock pistoning in and out of her with a ferocity that left her breathless. Mera could feel another orgasm building, hotter and more intense than the last. Her fingers scrabbled at the table, searching for something to hold onto as he pounded into her.
It was like she woke up again.
"THIS IS THE BEST COCK I'VE EVER HAD~!!!!" she screamed, her voice raw with desperation. "BETTER THAN ARTHUR'S! SO MUCH FUCKING BETTER! IT'S HIS FAULT—HIS FAULT FOR NOT SEEING THROUGH HILA'S SPELL! HIS FAULT I'M HERE, TAKING THIS COCK LIKE A SLUT!!!!"
Mera came again, shaking violently as another orgasm ripped through her. This one was different—deeper, more consuming. She felt like she was falling apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the pleasure coursing through her veins.
And still, he kept going. His cock never faltered, never slowed. He fucked her through one orgasm after another until she lost count, until she was nothing but a quivering mess on the table.
"Gonna cum…!"
"Ngghhhkskkkk…!"
That was it, she couldn't speak. She couldn't use telepathy. Nothing rationale was leaving her.
So he smiled and came inside her. Mera moaned weakly, her body still twitching with aftershocks as he held her ass cheeks tightly, keeping himself buried deep inside her. Since this was a normal orgasm, he rather promptly pulled out, making her whimper at the loss. He grabbed her by the chin and pulled her into a deep kiss that left her dizzy.
"S-sshoo…good…!"
When they finally broke apart, he grinned at her. "Come on, Mera, you have a mission, don't you?"
"C-c-cock…your cockk…Arthur….!"
Talk about fucked stupid. She couldn't even understand him anymore. He stood up straight, hands on his hips, and his dick dripping.
"Ah well. Let me put you to bed—oh, wait, pizza's getting cold." He glanced over and failed to notice her slipping off the table like a snail. "How about I feed you—"
Splat!
"Oh crap."
She was on the floor, cum oozing out of her pussy, her eyes rolled back, and her tongue speaking without an ounce of logic. "...pizzaashhhkk…cocckkk…"
The pizza guy scratched his head. Just in case, he glanced around. "Hopefully Batman and Superman don't arrive anytime soon…"
***
Fortunately, they did not. An hour later, the old living room of the lighthouse was quiet, lit only by the flicker of the fireplace and the occasional sweep of the lighthouse beam through the tall windows.
Queen Mera sat curled on one end of the weathered leather couch, her red hair tousled, damp at the tips, cascading down over her bare shoulders. A blanket—stolen from the back of the couch—was loosely wrapped around her, held more for modesty than warmth.
Across from her, the pizza guy sat in matching stillness, wearing a similar blanket across his lap. A half-finished mug of lukewarm tea sat forgotten in his hands. The pizza was fully eaten too. He wasn't sure what to say. The sea had stilled. The chaos of the night had passed.
There was an old television on the table a foot away from them. Small and cube-shaped and only capable of Gotham City cable news. The pizza guy glanced over. There was a single block of space between himself and the married queen. It was over but the weight of their session still lingered between them.
"So, um…"
"Thank you," Mera said at last, her voice hushed, the usual regal firmness softened by exhaustion and something gentler. "For taking care of me after…"
Getting fucked silly. Yeah. Kind of understandable that it was difficult to say outloud.
"I'm just here to help," he said, giving her a small smile.
Queen Mera exhaled, folding her arms around her knees. "I don't usually… talk much after battle. Or after things like this." She glanced at him, a flicker of something thoughtful in her gaze. "With Arthur, we were mostly quiet."
"I get it."
A few heartbeats passed in silence.
Then Mera's expression shifted, just slightly. Her posture softened. The hard line of her jaw gave way to something more unsure.
She turned toward him slowly. "My twin sister Hila… used a spell. One that fools the mind, to make me attack our common people. Arthur—as king—could not let that go. The people saw. He saw. And the League... most of them don't believe me." Her jaw tensed again. "Only Batman and Superman do."
The pizza guy blinked. "That… sounds incredibly messed up."
"It is." Mera gave a bitter little laugh. "And I have no choice but to wait. Here. In exile. Watching while someone else wears my face, my crown... and sleeps in my place."
"She, uh, already got to him?"
"She did. She had already made moves by training our daughter. I should have realized that she was acting not as an aunt but a greedy bitch."
He didn't know what to say to that. How could he?
"I wasn't supposed to feel anything. Not here. Not for anyone else." Her voice dropped, tinged with guilt now. "But last night… I did. And not just desire."
He looked over at her—really looked. The way she kept her posture proud even in emotional pain. The way she looked at him like he wasn't just a distraction. Like he had seen something she hadn't meant to show. Queen Mera slowly crawled across the couch with careful, regal grace. Her blanket rustled softly, but she didn't stop. She moved closer, placed her hand gently on his chest, and met his eyes.
Then she leaned in, slowly, tilting her head just enough for a kiss. The pizza guy gently stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
"Mera…" he said, softly.
She stopped. She was hurt as a woman, not a queen. "Why?"
"Look… I know this whole thing's confusing. It's been confusing for me, too. I'm just a guy with a pizza bag. You're literally royalty. I'm not judging what happened. I don't regret it. But kissing you… that's different. That's not just passion or comfort. That's something else. Something… real." He hesitated. "And I don't want that to be something you do just to forget someone else."
Mera's gaze dropped to the space between them. The flickering fire reflected in her eyes. She withdrew her hand, slowly sitting back, arms folding around herself.
"You're right," Mera said quietly. "I just… didn't want to feel alone."
"You're not," he said gently. "Not now. Not here."
Queen Mera looked at him again, softer than ever before. The confidence she once opened the door with was confidence. This was not Queen Mera, this was just Mera. This was just a woman who experienced normal, ordinary emotions. She wanted sex. She wanted a husband. She wanted to kill her sister. She wanted to go back to her family and her kingdom.
All these desires and she could only have one of them.
"You are as wise as you are hung,, pizza man," Mera said with a certain smile. In other words, it was a joke. It was nice to hear.
He gave her a lopsided smile. "Also, not gonna lie, I don't want your Atlantean husband showing up and drowning me."
That pulled a breathy laugh from her. "That is fair. But do not fear, I am stronger than my husband. No harm will come to you."
"R-really? You're stronger than Aquaman?"
Mera put a finger to her lip. "Do not tell my people. Consider it a secret."
He laughed. They both leaned back, the warmth of the fire between them, the early morning light painting shadows along the stone floor. For now, they sat. Not as queen and commoner. Not as hero and bystander. Just as two people in the eye of something much bigger, holding on to the one honest connection they had.
"Speaking of secrets, I do not mean to offend, but do you humans really show your sex lives to one another? That sounds…bizarre to me."
Oh boy.