Another night, another round of questionable Gotham deliveries. The pizza guy sat in his dented car outside the shop, forehead resting against the steering wheel as he prepared himself mentally.
"Okay," the pizza guy murmured. "Just one simple delivery. Don't get hard even if they have their cleavage out."
Cleavage was normal. Plenty of customers had it, whether on purpose and accident. But ever since his rumps with Supergirl and Mera, it felt harder to control his reactions to everything woman-related. He never embarrassed or got hard, but afterward, his libido spiked and he had to rub one out. He looked at the night sky.
"Gotham, please. I'm begging you."
He tapped the app on his phone to double-check the route. Typical townhouse. Residential neighborhood. Late-night order by a sultry sounding woman naked Karen. Nothing too suspicious and, well, just because it was a woman didn't mean anything. She could have a boyfriend or husband for all he knew.
His thumb hovered over the GPS when he noticed a flashing red banner across the top of the screen:
LIVE BREAKING NEWS — METROPOLIS UNDER ATTACK
"Oh great," he muttered, assuming it was yet another giant robot or an alien god with a name consisting entirely of consonants. Here was the thing with Metropolis: the villains there tended to be national issues. As in, they caused earthquakes that regularly reached Gotham City. Hence it was important for everyone to know and why the pizza guy had that reaction.
He opened the livestream. "Oh."
Low and behold, Supergirl was on screen. Not just on screen—fighting for her life.
The footage shook as the cameraman ducked behind a squad car. Several Metropolis PD cruisers were crushed, tossed like toys. Cars were overturned. Concrete chunks still floated midair like frozen debris.
At the center of it all stood Supergirl, chest rising and falling, strands of blonde hair sticking to her forehead, her cape torn at the edge. She looked hot, even while hurt. He bit his bottom lip. Was he weird for liking the battle-hardened women?
Facing her was a villain named…Magna-Might. A metahuman who could manipulate gravity fields. A walking natural disaster. Every time he lifted his hand, the asphalt bent like liquid. He slammed a vortex of electricity-like gravitational energies forward.
Supergirl staggered and threw her arms forward to catch the orb. She couldn't let it strike the building behind her, it'd demolish it. Her boots dug trenches into the ground and she grunted and pushed back.
The pizza guy leaned toward his phone, worried. "Come on, Supergirl… you've got this."
She clapped her hands and the gravity ball ceased. She tried to charge, but Magna-Might gestured his palms downward and gravity spiked. The mighty Kryptonian crashed to one knee. Piping rose from the nearby streets, hundreds of them in number, and they hurled toward her.
"Kara—" He jerked, catching himself. "Supergirl! Come on!!"
Supergirl lifted her head. Her eyes weren't on Magna-Might. They weren't even on the officers yelling for her to retreat.
They were on the camera.
On him.
The pizza guy blinked. The way she stared, the way her focus sharpened…
It was like she heard him.
He swallowed.
She heard him. Oh God, she heard him.
Supergirl smirked. A tiny, exhausted, stubborn little smirk accompanied by reddening eyes. In one fell sweep, she lasered away every single pipe. Hundreds of pieces of metal scrap, falling like rain around her.
Magna-Might flicked his wrist, trying to push her back down—but she didn't budge. Her boots lifted off the ground.
He tried again. Harder.
Supergirl kept rising.
BOOM.
Heat vision again, straight across the street like a lance of sunrise. Magna-Might barely shielded himself before Supergirl rocketed forward, fists glowing with kinetic energy guided by her momentum.
One punch. Two. A sweeping kick that cratered the pavement. The closer she got, the stronger the gravity got. It was why she had been struggling. Not anymore. A final uppercut that launched the villain thirty feet into the air before landing incapacitated at the feet of several stunned cops.
Dust settled.
Cheers erupted.
Supergirl hovered there, shoulders heaving, red cape fluttering. She then looked at the camera again. A breathless, proud little smile tugged at her lips and she even gave a little way. The smile and wave felt way too directed… way too pointed… to be coincidence.
The pizza guy stared.
"No way. No way that was for me." He paused. "…right?"
Supergirl winked and after that, got to helping with the aftermath. She zipped about, forming light sonic booms, and aiding the firefighters and emergency workers. The news then cut to—
"Supergirl has just defeated Magna-Might. Now, considering the damages—"
He felt a little bad for the people of Metropolis. Gotham was a lot more brutal and grimey. Metropolis seemed surreal. Aliens could suck up their city or a literal planet-busting technology could arise. Somehow, none of that mattered. The pizza guy rubbed his face, grinning like an idiot.
Her smile stuck in his mind. Breathless. Dusty. Victorious. A little shy. She was adorable even after punching a metahuman into a crater.
He placed the phone on the passenger seat and pulled onto the next street, mood soaring.
Tonight felt like a good night.
The drive to the townhouse took only minutes. Gotham's usual late-night ambience was alive: flickering streetlamps, distant sirens, the occasional raccoon fighting a trashcan like it owed him money.
He parked outside a neat, brick townhouse with a blue door and two little garden lights that valiantly tried to withstand Gotham's gloom.
He stepped out, pizza bag in hand, and walked up the two steps. His thoughts were on Supergirl. 'I-I mean, if she noticed me, she want to come back and…' He flushed and imagine her lifting her skirt for him. Showing her panties and whispering…
"Wanna fuck?"
He shuddered. He took a few breaths before knocking. Knowing how jealous she got with Starfire last time, he sincerely hoped for a normal encounter. The door opened and he instantly understood that was not to be the case.
'Fuck.'
The complete opposite. It couldn't be worse. Out of all the women he hoped for a normal day, he picked the one woman who was known for her sex appeal. The one woman that probably held the record for causing the most boners because of her looks.
The woman that casually pried open her door had been expecting him with a smile that could only be described as alluring and erotic. Not out of intention, out of nature. A short-haired blonde with a large bosom and in tight yoga black yoga pants and a low cut white top.
It was also quite probably the largest pair of tits he had ever seen. Yes, bigger than Starfire's.
His eyes did a frantic, jerky dance from her face, down to her chest, and quickly back up again, as if he'd been burned.
"Uh… pizza delivery for… Karen?" he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. "Karen Starr?"
Karen Starr leaned against the doorframe, making no move to take the box. She didn't sweat, although was most certainly doing yoga before this. But good lord, that top! It was white and plain and stretchy a-and left little to his desperate imagination.
"That's me." A single finger beckoned him forward with a small smile. "Come on in. The money's on the counter."
He hesitated, a man standing on the precipice of a very dangerous, very beautiful cliff. "I, uh, I really shouldn't…"
He had no idea Supergirl would be done with the clean-up. But, well, he didn't want to risk a jealous Kryptonian…
"Oh, don't be silly. It's Gotham. I'm not letting you stand out in that hallway." Her voice was a low, honeyed purr. Karen turned, giving him a full view of her powerful back and her fat fucking ass, and walked inside.
She was already walking. Her ass was jiggling with every step. Good god, so it wasn't only her tits, but her ass was fat and jiggly too? How unfair!
Swallowing hard and hypnotized by her wobbly booty, he followed. Nervously, he closed the door behind him. He arrived at the kitchen and placed the pizza box on the nearest surface, his eyes glued to her as Karen searched for her wallet. She pulled up a drawer, then squatted to open the shelf.
'Er…why would there be a wallet be in a shelf…?'
"Oh, there!" Karen made a sound and bent over the kitchen island to retrieve her wallet. Her breasts swayed heavily and she let out a soft, theatrical groan upon getting it.
"Ugh, these things are a nightmare," Karen sighed, straightening up and turning to face him, clutching a few bills. She rubbed the small of her back with her free hand. "Big boobs lead to such awful back problems. It's a constant struggle."
He just nodded mutely, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to form a sentence that wouldn't come.
Karen stepped closer, well inside his personal space. He could smell her scent: clean sweat, expensive perfume, and woman. "You look like a strong guy," she murmured, her blue eyes locking onto his. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about yoga, would you? I was just in the middle of some deep stretches for my lumbar region. I could really use a spotter."
"I… I don't…" he managed to get out, his face flushing a deep red. "I don't know much…"
Her smile turned sultry, a spark of pure mischief in her gaze. "It's simple. I just need you to keep me steady." She grabbed his wrists. His hands were calloused, strong from lifting stacks of pizza boxes, but they trembled in her grasp. She didn't guide them to her back. Instead, she placed his palms directly, firmly, against the lush…
…softness…
…of her breasts.
A sharp gulp escaped his lips. They were seriously huge! His fingers instinctively sank in! A-and he could feel the incredible weight of her melons! Not to mention hard nubs of her nipples pressing into the centers of his palms.
"Please~!" Her whisper vibrated through his very bones. "Just help me stretch."
Any thought of refusal evaporated like mist. He was putty. He nodded, a quick, jerky movement.
"Great!" Karen smirked. She released his wrists and his hands slipped from her chest. She gave a little jump of excitement and the movement sent a glorious, breathtaking jiggle through her magnificent breasts, a sight that would be permanently seared into his memory. "Okay! Let's start simple. Sit on the mat with me."
They sank to the floor, facing each other. Karen turned on her butt so that he was behind her. That fat ass pressing down on the mat was…something. It was going to leave one hell of a print.
"Alright," Karen said, calm, and instructional, though her eyes still smoldered as he turned her head over her shoulder. "I'm going to do a seated forward fold. I need you to put your arms around my waist. Just hold me there, keep my back straight. Ready?"
He nodded again, his mouth Sahara-dry. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her midsection. His fingers splayed across the strong, toned muscles of her lower back. She felt strangely strong. Like…if he pushed, he wasn't sure if he could move her. Then again, maybe it was his imagination or exhaustion from working.
Karen folded forward gracefully, her forehead aiming for her knees, a soft mmmm of relief escaping her as she stretched. She did it once, twice…
"Phew."
She was done, and he thought his role was done. It wasn't. "Alright, next!"
"R-right…."
Karen did that spin on her bum again. Palm on the mat, spinning herself, it almost felt like she levitated in that brief second. He gulped when they were face-to-face and she grabbed his wrists. Talk about forward! She might have been a blonde like Supergirl, and, huh, maybe looked like her a little…
"W-woah!"
Together, their legs spread apart and the pizza guy's head tilted down. His face was now inches from the deep, shadowed cleavage presented by her top. He swore he saw her nipples…!
"So," Karen said, "I'm new to Gotham. You must know all the… interesting spots in the city." She shifted slightly, and the neckline of her top gaped, offering him a dizzying, unobstructed view down the valley between her breasts. He squeezed his eyes shut. "What's the best place to get a really good, long, filling meal around here?"
Legs stretched more and more. Frankly, it didn't affect him. All that sex made his legs quite flexible. "U-Umm, our pizza is good. Really good. I-it's, uh, pretty fancy inside." It wasn't, he was just babbling.
"Oh really?" She smirked and released him. "Let's try a different stretch. This one is great for opening up the chest." She shifted her position to sit on their knees. Said knees were touching now. "Go on, take my hands."
He did. Her hands were quite soft.
"Now, just lean back gently. Pull me with you. Help me open up." They leaned back, a tense, intimate game of trust. Her chest was pushed forward, presented to him, and they stretched and pulled back until—
Boing!
Her breasts were pressing against his chest. Not flat, but certainly pressing into his chest. He gulped. All he could do was stare into her blue Kryptonian eyes…
'Huh…Kryptonian? Why did I think that?' He blinked twice. 'They DO look exactly like Kara's when she takes her glasses off…'
"Something on my face?"
"Oh no, your eyes are just…really blue," he said it innocently and it caught Karen off-guard. He seemed wondrous in his gaze. As though he cares more about her eyes than her tits, which for a guy seemed impossible.
"Thank you, I…it's a family thing," Karen replied, losing some confidence. For the next remark, however, she was back to brimming with it. "I've also heard Gotham has some… hidden gems. Places off the beaten path. Tight, hot little spots that are hard to get into. Know any places like that?"
Every word was dripping with innuendo. Every innocuous decibel was an expertly aimed arrow of seduction. "Hm? Come on, don't hide things from me.?" Giggling, it was her turn to pull back. His turn to push forward. Chest to chest, sitting on their knees, and stretching each other.
The pizza guy was drowning in Karen, in the proximity, in the scent, in the overwhelming visual of her breasts pressed against him.
He tried to answer, to play along, but all that came out was a weak, "N-not really."
That's when he felt it. A violent, undeniable twitch in his pants. A throbbing, aching spasm that strained against the rough fabric of his delivery uniform. His cock fully and utterly betrayed him in making its presence known with a desperate, physical demand.
Karen's eyes flickered down for the briefest of moments. A corner of her mouth quirked up. She didn't mention it. She didn't even acknowledge it. "Really? Nothing?"
He wanted to panic and realign himself and stop this. But…Karen's grip. And her boobs. The pizza guy felt weak.
"Nothing, err, just…the pizza place…we make good pizza," he said lamely.
Eventually, smiling, she allowed the realign. Once back at the center, Karen smiled, took a deep, cleansing breath and sat up straight...
Boing!
...releasing his hands and unpressing her tits from his chest.
"Well, that was wonderful," Karen said cheerfully, as if they'd just finished a completely ordinary session. "Thank you so much for your help. I feel so much looser now."
He scrambled to his feet, awkwardly turning to hide the very obvious, very large bulge in his pants. "T-thank you. Hope that helped, and erm…" He muttered something else about needing to get back to his route and practically fled for the door, grabbing his empty pizza bag on the way out.
The door closed behind him with a definitive thud.
Karen didn't move from her mat. She brought a finger to her lips, her tongue darting out to slowly, sensually lick the tip.
"Now that…was interesting."
Karen never thought she would ever blush at seeing a dick. Officially, she had.
***
The last pizza of the night was always the weirdest, and this one was no exception. The address led him to a narrow, unmarked door squeezed between a boarded-up pawn shop and a place that exclusively sold mismatched teacups. A flickering neon sign, shaped like a steaming rock, buzzed ominously.
Here was the thing: this wasn't his first time here. But every damn time he came here, he had to double-check. The vibes around this address were plain weird.
He checked the order slip again. 'Aethereal Springs. Again.' He wanted to sigh.
He pushed the door open, a little bell jingling overhead. The air inside was thick with the smell of sulfur and sandalwood. A middle-aged brunette emerged from a beaded curtain, her smile warm and immediate. She was the manager of Aethereal Springs.
"Ah! You are here! And right on time, as always," the hot spring manager greeted. She took the large pizza box from him. "Your punctuality… it has a very pure spirit. The pizza always arrives with such positive energy."
"Uh, thanks?" he said, fumbling for the credit card reader. "Just doing my job."
"No, no. It is more than that." She waved away the machine. "This one is on the house. And I insist you take something for yourself." She handed him a small, wooden token. "A complimentary soak. You look like you carry much tension in your shoulders."
He stared at the token. "In there?" He gestured vaguely toward the beaded curtain, from which a low, inviting gurgle could be heard.
"It is a singular spring. Very special. Very spiritual. You will find it… clarifying." Her dark eyes twinkled. "Go on. No one is here at this hour. You will have it all to yourself. Ah, and don't worry, I will pay you. As long as you first take my offer."
"Err…"
"See?" She showed him the dollar bills. "I'm not lying. Have some faith, hm?"
"O-okay…"
Welp. Guess he was doing this. Entering a shady artificial hot spring store. Gotham was fucking weird.
The changing room was a tiny, cedar-paneled closet. The pizza guy shrugged out of his red uniform jacket, the damp Gotham chill still clinging to the fabric. His jeans came next, then his socks. He hesitated, his fingers hooked in the waistband of his boxers.
'Looks like no one is here either.'
With a final shrug, he pushed them down.
The cool air of the room hit his skin, raising goosebumps. He was obviously generously endowed, even soft. His length, a solid nine inches, rested heavily against his thigh, and his full sac hung low beneath it. He quickly wrapped a small, rough towel around his waist, the thin fabric doing little to conceal the prominent bulge. He took a deep breath and slid the wooden door open.
He probably should have realized that since there was only one hot spring that the place did not belong to one singular gender. It was a mixed hot spring.
A cloud of mineral-scented steam washed over him. The spring was a natural-looking stone pool, the water dark and impossibly clear, lit from below by a soft, amber light. And it was not empty.
A girl was there, submerged to her shoulders, her back to him. Pale, alabaster skin. A long, straight fall of hair so black it shone indigo in the glow. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of deep, meditative calm. The pizza guy…
'Wait a minute…'
…recognized her instantly. He'd delivered to her apartment—well, Starfire's apartment—at least three times a week. The quiet one.
'Raven, right?'
He froze, but the wooden door click-shut behind him, far too loud in the tranquil space.
Raven's eyes snapped open. Dark, intense pools that found his instantly. They widened, flickered down his body for a single, heart-stopping second, taking in the towel and the blatant outline it failed to hide, before darting back to the wall in front of her. A deep, crimson blush spread from her cheeks down her neck, disappearing beneath the water. Raven tried to be unfazed. Cool and calm as he assumed she was.
So yeah. Here he was and Raven said nothing, her posture rigid.
His own face burned. So much for having the place to himself. The only sound was the gentle glug-glug-gurgle of the spring and the thwack-thwack of his own bare feet on the wet stone as he awkwardly made his way to the far side of the pool. Each step was a mortifying announcement. He dipped a foot in. The water was perfect, hot but not scalding.
The pizza guy slid in, sinking until the water reached his chest, the heat instantly seeping into his tired muscles. The towel floated around him, thankfully providing a layer of opaque cover.
The silence stretched, thick and heavy. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing. Unfortunately, even though he was on the far side, the pool wasn't that huge. There was only six or seven feet of distance between them.
"It's, uh… Raven, right? Hey."
Raven didn't turn, but her shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly. "Yes."
"She, um… she really loves her extra pepperoni." He winced at his own lameness.
A beat of silence. Then, a quiet, almost inaudible response. "She does."
"She's… something else. Always makes my day interesting." He ventured a little further, a nervous laugh escaping him. "I don't think I've ever actually seen her wear clothes. Is that a daily thing or…?"
This time, he saw it. The faintest hint of a smile touched the corner of Raven's mouth. It was small, but it was there. "She doesn't comprehend human modesty. Or secrets, apparently."
"O-oh, right. Sorry. Um…it's okay. Her secret's safe with me. All of your secrets are." The words came out more earnestly than he intended.
Raven finally turned her head just slightly, her gaze meeting his from across the steam. The blush had faded to a soft pink on her cheeks. "That is… appreciated."
"So…you come here for the meditation and spirituality stuff, right?" He saw it at the front door. This was meant for meditation. "Sorry, I'm just here because, well…"
"The manager, I know. I heard. This place is small," Raven explained. "But that woman likes your pizza then there must be something to it."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
She shrugged. "Extra sauce?"
The pizza guy burst into laughter. Raven giggled too.
They talked more after that. Tentatively at first, then with a growing ease. He told her about other weird deliveries around Gotham and she offered short, dry comments about his experiences. The hot water seemed to work its magic, loosening more than just muscles. The steamy air and intimate setting made the conversation feel protected, private.
As they spoke, his eyes, hidden by the rippling water, wandered. He could see the elegant slope of her shoulders, the gentle suggestion of her collarbones. When she shifted, the water swirling around her, he caught a breathtaking glimpse of the soft, pale curve of a breast, a peaked nipple before the dark water obscured it again. Lower down, the water danced over the smooth plane of her stomach, hinting at the shadow between her legs but keeping its mystery.
After a long, comfortable lull in the conversation, he gestured to a row of wooden buckets by the edge. "I think I'm getting a little too pruney. Gonna do the… you know. The bucket thing."
Raven let out a snort. "Let me guess, you watch anime?"
"Hey, I…look, it's not my fault they have so many hot spring episodes."
Raven rolled her eyes playfully. The pizza guy rose from the water.
The sound was a wet shoosh as the water streamed off his body. The steamy air hit his wet skin, and he was completely, utterly exposed to her. Everything from the lengthy pipe of a cock cock to his rowdy balls. He saw her eyes, wide and dark, lock onto him for a single, unblinking moment, taking in every detail of his substantial, dripping length and heavy sac before she quickly averted her gaze, her entire body flushing that captivating shade of red once more.
"I… I will join you," she stammered, her voice uncharacteristically flustered.
Raven stood up as well.
Water cascaded down her body in rivulets. As anyone could see (and he had caught previously), Raven was unnaturally pale and flawless. Her form was slender yet curved in all the right places. Her small, perfect breasts were bare, beads of water clinging to them, and lower, a delightful slit for her pussy.
The pizza guy tried not to be a perv and got to where he needed to be.
He quickly sat on the wooden stool, grabbing a bucket and filling it. He felt like he was in a rush. She did the same beside him, her back straight, her gaze fixed firmly on the wall in front of them. The silence returned, but it was a different kind of silence now. It was charged. The air was cool on their hot, wet skin. He could feel the warmth of Raven beside him, a palpable energy in the small space between their stools. Neither of them moved, both hyper-aware of the other's nakedness.
But obviously, someone had to fill up the water and wash themselves first. The pizza guy did it first and Raven followed. Splash! Both of them were wet. Everything from hair to cock to nipples were dripping.
The pizza guy shook the hair off. "Phew. That was cool."
Raven nodded and just let the water run down her. The question was…should they do it again?
The pizza guy sat rigidly on the wooden stool, the full bucket of water between his feet feeling like an anchor to reality. Beside him, Raven was a statue of pale perfection, her breathing a shallow, quiet rhythm. The steam from the pool rose around them, a veil for their mutual, breathless awareness.
He risked a glance. Her gaze was still locked on the opposite wall, but her hands, resting on her knees, were clenched into tiny, trembling fists. A single drop of water traced a path from her damp hair, down the elegant column of her neck, over her collarbone, and down, down, until it disappeared into the valley between her breasts. He watched its journey, mesmerized, his own breath catching in his throat.
A low, shuddering sigh escaped her. It was the only warning.
Slowly, as if moving through a dream, Raven turned her head. Her dark eyes, usually pools of endless midnight, were wide, the pupils dilated so heavily they seemed to absorb the very light in the room. They were fixed on him, but lower. They were fixed on the part of him that felt most exposed, most vulnerable, and most… obvious.
He followed her gaze. His cock, still soft from the hot water, rested heavily against his thigh.
Her hand unclenched. Raven lifted it, her movements hesitant, almost jerky, as if fighting an invisible force. The air grew colder around her fingers, a subtle chill that raised the fine hairs on his arms. She reached out, her slender fingers hovering just inches from his flesh. Her breath hitched, a soft, shaky huff of air.
"I…" Raven whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle gurgle of the spring. "I…look, I…"
Her fingers brushed him.
It was the lightest touch, a ghost of a sensation against his softness. But it was like a spark to tinder. A jolt, cold and electric, shot through him, and he gasped. It wasn't just her touch; it was something more. A connection, a thread of pure sensation that seemed to knit itself directly from her fingertips to the very core of his being. He could feel Raven and everything she was—her nervousness, her overwhelming curiosity, a deep, buried hunger she barely understood herself. It was all flowing into him through that single, point of contact.
Under her trembling fingers, his cock began to change. It reacted. He swelled, thickening and lengthening with a speed that was almost supernatural. Raven's dark eyes widened further, her lips parting in a silent 'o' of awe as she felt the transformation under her hand. What had been a heavy softness became a rigid, throbbing length of pure heat, straining upward until it reached a truly monumental size, easily twelve inches of rock-hard, veined flesh. It twitched violently against her cool palm.
He groaned. He breathed. He stared. He thought, 'I have to fuck her—now.'
Overcome, driven by a need that her empathic touch had magnified a thousandfold, he leaned forward. He cupped her cheek, his other hand finding her waist, and he brought his lips to hers.
The kiss was not gentle. It was hungry. A collision of pent-up desire and newfound, shocking connection. Her lips were cool and soft, and they yielded to his with a tiny, desperate sound—a muffled mmmpfh of surprise and surrender. Her free hand came up to clutch at his shoulder, her nails digging into his skin as she kissed him back, her inexperience giving way to a fierce, mimicked passion.
They turned toward each other on the stools, their bodies aligning. His massive, hard cock pressed against her stomach, a hot, insistent brand against her cool, wet skin. The contrast was maddening. Raven broke the kiss, gasping for air, her eyes glued to where their bodies met.
"It is… so big. How do you even carry that around?"
Her hand, still resting on him, began to move. It was tentative at first, a slow, exploring stroke from the base to the tip. Her stroke was like ice and silk, a divine, chilling friction that made his eyes roll back in his head. Her small, cool hand glided back up from narrow base to mushroom cockhead. Phew.
Her fingers never touched from the girth.
"Ridiculous…"
Three strokes in and he felt like cumming already. Pre-cum was spitting out and Raven gasped a little. "Because of me, huh?" She tried to sound calm and she did. The pizza guy tried to sound calm and failed.
"Raven…" he groaned, his own hands sliding down her back, pressing her closer. "Your hand… fuck… it feels…"
The pizza guy was losing control. The pleasure she was channeling into him through that mystical, intimate connection was too intense, too raw. It coiled tightly in his nutsack, a spring wound to its breaking point. He tried to hold on, to savor the feel of her handjob, and Raven herself. This wonderful emo woman with her dark hair sticking to her flushed cheeks and giving him a handjob, but it was a losing battle.
"I am… I am going to…" he warned, his voice strangled.
Raven promptly released him. "O-oh—!"
It was too late. The pressure broke. His cock shuddered violently and he splattered his cumshots against her stomach loudly. Another followed, and another, splurt-splurt-splurt, painting her breasts with streaks of white. His cock was pointing upward and just cumming.
Raven had to do something and grab his cock again—when she did, she shuddered. She moaned. The feeling went both ways. It was like Raven's existence was doing something. It was what was causing this.
Spurt, spurt, spuuurt!
"Mmmmph~!"
He was cumming, she was stroking his dick, and…and…they were kissing. His release seemed to go on forever, each convulsive burst wracking his frame as he spilled himself onto her belly, her hip, and her pussy.
Through the haze of his own overwhelming climax, he was dimly aware that they were indeed kissing. She had leaned into him, her lips finding his, accepting his ragged groans into her mouth. Her hand never stopped its gentle, milking motion, coaxing out the very last drops until he was spent, trembling, and utterly breathless.
The kiss ended slowly, their lips parting with a soft, wet smack. They were both flushed, panting, their foreheads resting together. He looked down between them. The evidence of his pleasure glistened on her skin, a shocking, intimate contrast. Raven followed his gaze, her blush deepening to a shade of scarlet he'd never seen before. She looked… stunned.
"I… that was…" she stammered, her voice a nervous flutter. "I did not intend… my power, it sometimes… amplifies…"
Ahh, so that was it. Now it all made sense. Her powers. Raven the superhero was not well-known to the world. She was apart of the Titans but in the background. Consistently rated as being the underrated one on the internet.
Her powers, whatever they were, were not well-explained or known. Until now. Now, this ordinary joe of Gotham City understood every facet of it.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Did you want to?" he asked. "Kiss me, I mean."
"I…" She swallowed. "I did."
Her eyes lifted to his. The dark pupils were indeed strange, the edges seeming to soften, to almost… pulse into a subtle, heart-like shape. She swallowed hard, her gaze darting down to his cock, which, impossibly, was still rigid and eager against his stomach.
"And right now?" the pizza guy asked.
"Yes," Raven whispered, the word a confession. "I do. I really do."
Her hand found his monster cock again. She gave him another slow, experimental stroke, her eyes locked on his. He leaned in, capturing her lips once more in a deeper, more assured kiss. This time, his hands slid lower, down the curve of her back, over the swell of her bottom, and he gently guided her off the stool.
He laid her down on the warm, wet stone at the edge of the spring, the steam rising around them like a protective cocoon. He followed her down, settling between her legs. The head of his enormous cock, slick with his own release and the water from the spring, pressed against her. Not inside, just there. A promise. A threat. A reality.
He looked down at the junction of their bodies, at the sheer, daunting size of him pressed against her petite, delicate folds. She followed his gaze, her breath catching in her throat in a sharp gulp.
The heavy wooden door slid open with a quiet shff of well-oiled wood.
"I thought you might enjoy some—" The hot spring manager's cheerful voice cut through the steamy air, then stopped abruptly.
Time seemed to fracture. The woman stood in the doorway, holding a small tray with two ceramic cups. Her eyes, warm and knowing, swept over the scene: Raven, laid out on the stone floor, her pale skin flush with desire. Him, poised above her, his body a monument of tense, glistening muscle and urgent intention. The air itself was thick with the scent of their arousal, a primal musk that even the sulfurous spring couldn't mask.
Her gaze lingered for a single, excruciating heartbeat. Not in shock. Not in anger. In amusement. A slow, deep smirk spread across her face, a silent, profoundly knowing Ah, I see.
Then, without another word, she gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod, and the door shff-clicked shut again.
The sound was a gunshot in the sudden silence.
For a moment, neither of them moved. He was frozen above her, every muscle locked. Raven's eyes, which had been dark pools of want, now widened in pure, unadulterated horror. The blush that had been a pretty pink flush on her cheeks moments before now consumed her entire face, her neck, her chest.
'She saw. She knows. She knows me. She respects me…'
Raven was mortified.
The thoughts weren't spoken, but he could see them racing behind her eyes, each one a fresh wave of panic.
Then, the world cracked.
It wasn't a sound. It was a feeling. A sudden, violent suction of energy, a pull from the very center of Raven. Her eyes weren't just wide with shame anymore; they were bleeding into solid, glowing pools of absolute black. The air turned icy, then brutally hot.
"No," Raven whispered, a desperate plea to herself. "No, no, no…"
The clear, amber-lit water of the spring shuddered. It didn't ripple. It convulsed. In the span of a single, choked breath, the water didn't just drain or disappear. It transmuted. It turned from pure water into a viscous, living liquid shadow, a black oil that swallowed the light and seemed to suck the warmth from the very air. The gentle gurgle of the spring was replaced by a low, ominous glorp, as the last of the water was consumed by inky darkness.
The pizza guy HAD to stop this. Whatever was happening, it was because of her emotions. His only option?
Schliiick!
He entered her pussy.
Raven gasped. Raven's eyes rolled back.
He felt her inner walls, impossibly tight and searingly hot, clench around just the swollen, leaking tip of his cock. It was a mix of hot and cold: a magical wet pussy and a shocking contrast to the cold dread that had been pouring off her a second before.
"Oh, fuck, Raven," he groaned. His hands gripped her hips, his knuckles white against her pale skin. "You're so fucking tight."
So he gave more of his cock. Five inches of it. Raven's gasp morphed into a choked whimper, her head thrashing back against the wet stone. The inky darkness of the pool swirled violently, but the terrifying suction of energy stuttered. Her focus was fracturing, splitting between her panic and the overwhelming, physical reality of him and his dick.
He didn't stop. He couldn't. It was the only anchor he had.
"I'm going to push in, Raven," he growled, his own need overriding all else. "I'm going to bury every inch of this monster cock inside you. I'm going to fuck that darkness right out of you."
The emotions, her powers, they were pushing out of him too. She was affecting him.
He pushed.
The resistance was immense. Her small body wasn't made for this. He felt her stretch, a breathtaking, impossible yield around his girth. He watched, mesmerized, as her delicate folds parted for him, struggling to accommodate the invasion. One inch. Then two. The sensation was maddening, a hot, velvet-strangling tightness that made his vision blur.
"Fuck, you're taking it," he rasped. "You feel that? That's me, Raven. That's all me, filling you up."
He said it because something was telling him to. That he had to tell her. Raven's eyes, still pools of solid black, were locked on his face. But the terrifying void in them was now mixed with a dawning, overwhelming sensation. A tear, clear and human, traced a path through the scarlet blush on her cheek.
"Haahh!! Hgghhhh! T-this dickkkkk~! I-I think I'm gonna—! I think I'm gonna cum!"
"Think? That's not enough," he countered, his voice dropping to a possessive whisper. He drove his hips forward another inch, and she cried out, a sharp, broken sound that was half-pain, half-bliss. "I'm only halfway there, pretty girl. You're going to take all of it. You're going to fucking love it."
She hiccuped and she orgasmed. Her pussy tightened up like crazy and that felt like the first step. He could feel her inner struggle, not just physically but psychically. The demonic chill receded a fraction, replaced by a building, human heat. The pool of black water nearby calmed, its violent churning slowing to a sluggish swirl.
He slid deeper, a slow, relentless conquest. He could feel every ridge, every vein of his dick being mapped by her clinging, desperate flesh. He was sheathed in unbelievable wet heat, a perfect, custom-fit sleeve designed just for his ruinous size.
"Look at me, Raven," he commanded.
Her dark eyes, the pupils slowly softening back from solid black into a something almost normal, flickered to his.
"You feel how deep I am?" he grunted, giving a shallow, testing thrust that made her jolt and gasp. "This big fucking cock is yours now. It's going to fuck you sane. It's going to pump you so full of my cum you'll forget your own name."
He began to move. Slowly at first, a deliberate, grinding rhythm that allowed her body to adjust to his immense girth. Each withdrawal was a tease, each thrust forward a claiming. Her hands, which had been clenched at her sides, flew up to grip his forearms, her nails digging crescent moons into his skin.
"Oh! Ohhhh! Nggghhh~! This! This thing! So big! So deep!"
"You like it!"
"Oh, god… oh…" she moaned, the words barely audible. The sound was pure, unfiltered pleasure. The darkness in the pool was now just a faint shadow, the water clearing back to a misty amber. "Oh my god, I'm cummiiing! I'm cummiiing!"
"Come on, be more honest," he encouraged her, his pace quickening. The slick, wet sounds of their fucking filled the steamy air, a filthy, perfect rhythm. "Let go. Just feel this. Feel my cock stretching that perfect little pussy. Feel how fucking wet you are for me. And say that you love it!"
He shifted his angle, driving upward, and her back arched off the stone with a sharp cry.
"Right there! Oh, fuck, right there!" she screamed, her formal speech utterly shattered. "I—I do! I love it! I love it! I LOVE THIS DIIIICKK!!!"
"Why?!"
"BECAUSE IT MAKES ME CUM! CUMMMM!! MMPPPH!" She tried to slap her hands over her mouth. She was mortified again, feeling dark again, only for her eyes to roll back as he came. Again.
How many times was that now? Like it mattered. Raven was smiling behind those covering hands. She was loving this.
In other words...he'd found it. He knew what to do. He hammered against that spot, each thrust a brutal, perfect assault on her senses. Her demonic energy was gone, completely subsumed by human orgasm. Her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth fell open, and a string of incoherent, begging pleas fell from her lips.
"Please!!! Mmmph! Don't stop, more, fucking MORE…! MOREEE~!!"
Her pussy began to flutter around him in a way that threatened to end him. Literally. But then he groped her tits and got her to moan and relax a little. Not too tense, not too relaxed. He found the sweet-spot that didn't make her mind or body confused. He made her understand. Understand that he wasn't here to hurt here. To make her feel weak or to use her.
This cock was here to fuck her and make her feel amazing!
"You gonna cum, Raven?" he grunted, pistoning into her with a force that shook her whole body. "You gonna squirt all over this big dick?"
"Mmmpph! Y-yes! Yyeessss!!" Gasping, she managed to ask, "A-a-and you!"
"Me too! Definitely going to fill up this amazing pusssy of yours!"
Amazing.
Amazing.
She mewled. She loved it. Raven loved hearing a man praise her. This honesty was new, even to himself, but it worked. It was needed. Raven's answer was a shaking scream as her orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy clamped down on him like it was possessed, milking his cock with violent, pulsating waves. The sensation was too much. The coil in his own balls snapped.
"Fuck! I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna fill you up, Raven! Take it! Take all of it!"
He drove into her one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his own release tore through him. Thick, virile ropes of cum shot deep into her contracting channel, spurt after hot, endless spurt. He groaned as he emptied himself inside her and owned her womb.
Through the blinding haze of his climax, he felt it. A warmth. A light. Not a physical one, but a psychic sensation that flowed from him into her with each pulse of his seed. It was the antithesis of her darkness, a calming, satiating purity that seeped into her very soul.
He collapsed on top of her, spent, covering her completely. They were both slick with sweat, spring water, and their own releases. He could feel the frantic beat of her heart against his chest begin to slow, to steady.
Suddenly, there was a normal gurgle of the hot spring.
'Ah…I did it.'
He lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes were closed, her dark hair fanned out around her like a halo. The blush was still on her cheeks, but it was a soft, satiated pink now, not a mask of horror. A small, utterly peaceful smile touched her lips.
Raven felt… quiet.
He brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. "Raven?"
Her eyes fluttered open. They were her eyes again. Deep, dark, but clear. Human. The tiny, heart-shaped pulse in her pupils was gone.
Raven looked up at him, a soft, dazed wonder in her expression. "It's quiet," she whispered, her voice filled with awe. "I can't hear them. The voices… the whispers… they're… gone." She shifted slightly beneath him, a wince of oversensitivity followed by a contented sigh. "All I can feel is you."
He smiled down at her, still buried deep inside her warmth. "Good."
She smiled. She pulled him in for a kiss. They must have made out for at least a minute. The hot spring gurgled again, albeit normally.
Which was what snapped Raven into ending the kiss. Everything was normal again.
The look on her face was one of absolute, soul-crushing devastation. "Oh, Azar…" she breathed.
In a flash of movement that was pure panic, she teleported out of his cock and was on her feet. Her powers were lashing out uncontrolled but with more purpose. A cloak of shimmering darkness, cold and silent, settled over the pizza guy. "R-Raven…?"
Going from being inside an emo goth girl's pussy to not was certainly…interesting. Raven grabbed his hand, eyes narrowed.
"We have to go. Now."
He had no time to think, to process, to even grab the pathetic, sodden towel. Raven yanked him forward, and the world lurched.
It wasn't like walking. It was a disorienting slide through space, a nauseating sensation of being nowhere and everywhere at once. The cedar-paneled walls of Aethereal Springs melted into the grimy, rain-slicked brick of a Gotham alley. The humid, mineral-scented air was replaced by the acrid smell of garbage and damp concrete. And they were still stark naked, dripping not with water, but with cold, evaporating shadow.
This…was teleportation.
Wow.
They stood beside his car, the cloaking darkness flickering around them like a dying television signal before fading entirely. They were naked. And in an alleyway. And…
"Uh…m-my keys…"
"T-they're inside, I think…" Raven winced, partially because his sticky cum was pouring out of her pussy and also because they were outside and she made a stupid mistake. "Crap."
"D-don't worry, for orders, I sometimes have my car unlocked." He fumbled for the car door handle and he was right. "Phew. Lucky." He yanked the door open and then went for the compartment. "And my back-up keys! Nice!"
Raven practically fell into the passenger seat, curling in on herself, trying desperately to cover her nakedness with her arms. The pizza guy slid into the driver's side, the cold vinyl seats a shocking contrast to his hot skin. The thump of the car doors closing felt deafeningly loud, sealing them in a tiny, intimate box of palpable awkwardness.
The silence in the car was heavier than the one in the spring had ever been. He could hear her breathing, quick, shallow pants of pure anxiety. He could see the goosebumps rising on her arms in the green glow of the dashboard lights.
Oh, and most of all, the cum pouring out between her legs.
"I am so… so sorry," Raven blurted out, her voice breaking. She wouldn't look at him, her face turned toward the window. "That was… my emotions… they are not like other people's. They are a conduit. A catalyst. I lose control and my power… it reacts. It doesn't just express what I feel, it becomes what I feel. My embarrassment, my shame… it just…"
She sighed and ran a hand down her face. All this because she didn't want the manager to see. She was pathetic, she told herself. So fucking pathetic. Raven took a peak at him. He probably thought the same. He…
He was just looking. Non-judgemental. He wasn't scared.
"Hey, look, we all have our problems. It's fine."
He just waved it off. It was like he didn't realize he almost died. Like what he did wasn't incredible.
Her hand traced around navel. Raven could feel his cum inside. This ordinary pizza guy's seed, inside the womb of Trigon's daughter. A demon. She bit her bottom lip. It...it didn't feel bad. She didn't feel guilty. It was strange.
The pizza guy turned the key in the ignition. The engine coughed to life, a mundane, comforting sound. He cranked the heat up, a blast of lukewarm air hitting their chilled skin.
"It's…it's not," she murmured.
"I think it is," the pizza guy said, his voice surprisingly calm. He put the car in drive. "People with superpowers should be allowed to make mistakes, same as us pizza guys. And, heh, to be honest, I think I'm getting used to this kind of thing."
"R-really?"
"Really. Want me to take you home?"
Raven finally turned to look at him, her expression one of utter disbelief. "Home? Like this?" She gestured at their complete and total nudity. "But…my clothes…"
"You can teleport, can't you?"
She flushed. "R-right. Err, what about your clothes then?"
"I'll figure it out," he said, smiling. He pulled out of the alley and onto the nearly deserted street. The streetlights strobed across their bodies, illuminating them in fleeting, intimate glimpses. He kept his eyes firmly on the road, refusing to let his gaze wander to the pale, trembling form in his passenger seat, no matter how much every instinct screamed to look.
The drive to Starfire's apartment was quite short. He pulled up to the curb and killed the lights.
Raven put a hand against her stomach to where her womb was. She could feel his cum warming her. Stirring inside her. It felt...amazing. And she had nothing to thank him for it.
"....again, I apologize. I do."
He offered her a small, gentle smile. "I'll be fine. I've got a gym bag in the trunk with an old uniform. I'll change in a gas station bathroom. It's not the weirdest thing I've done tonight."
Compared to stretching and doing yoga with a big-titty blonde? This was a nice change of pace.
Raven stared at him, her dark eyes searching his face. The panic was receding, replaced by a look of profound, confused gratitude. She nodded, once. A shimmer of black energy began to weave around her.
"Thank you. I won't forget this. Really."
"It's no issue, really."
His good-natured smile made her look away. In the past, anyone that experienced her powers could neither deal with it or smile after the matter. He did.
Finding herself too embarrassed to say anything else, Raven teleported. The passenger seat was suddenly empty with only a long streak of his baby batter left. He was going to have to clean that up.
The pizza guy sat there and chuckled.
Just another night of pizza delivery.