seriousfic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seriousfic) wrote2010-05-14 10:50 am
seriousfic) wrote2010-05-14 10:50 am
Written for the DC Kink Meme (what does that tell you?)
Prompt: Mister Miracle / Big Barda
Sex within a loving relationship. Not fluffy, no hearts and flowers, maybe a little rough, but there should be an element of mutual trust/liking.
It would also be nice if Barda could be a little dominant, but that's not a strict requirement.
Barda couldn’t concentrate on the mission briefing. Scott was doing a month-long show on Rigel as Barbara spoke and he would be home by that evening. She wanted to do something special for him, but what? Scott was a man of simple tastes. Lingerie? He liked armor, and then not armor. An extravagant home cooked meal? Maybe if Barda could cook.
Her musings were interrupted by Helena showing up for the briefing, late as usual. This time there was something amiss; a hitch in her step. Barda examined her for injuries. She found none, but Helena did have about her that intangible energy men called… the Glow.
“Late night?” Barbara called wryly, resting her laser pointer in her lap.
“And early morning.” Helena sprawled across Zinda’s lap with her ass in the air, the frock she was wearing riding up to the tops of her upper thighs. “My ass is sore.”
“Want me to kiss it better?” Zinda asked with her customary grin.
“That’s what got it sore!… kinda.”
“As fascinating as this is, guys? International drug lord?” Barbara waved the laser pointer at the gargantuan holographic screen (which she’d taken a long time setting up, not that anyone cared, except for Dinah who’d taken her out for seafood after Barbara had commiserated to her).
“Dime a dozen, Babs. This is more important,” Dinah said, rising from the teacher’s-pet stool she’d had planted near Barbara. “Helena got some.”
Barda huffed. “On Apokolips, we save the celebration for after the victory.”
“See? Take a page from Barda’s book.”
“Excuse me? Why were you so out of breath when everyone but Dinah was on that mission yesterday?” Helena demanded.
This flustered Barbara. “I was jogging!”
“You can’t walk!”
“Hey, she’s sensitive about that!” Dinah said protectively.
In short order, there was yelling and then crying and hugging (at least, Barda knew they wanted to, the big sissies), and it was agreed to put the briefing on hold for baby carrots and Helena’s getting some. Barda gripped her Mega-Rod tightly, counted to 30, and tried to think of something to do for Scott. Maybe she should just give up and ask Oberon.
“He’d been fingering my ass for a half hour, so finally I just told him ‘Fuck my ass like I’m your bitch. Fuck my ass like I’m your bitch in heat!’” Helena was saying, her retelling interesting Dinah and Zinda, but making Barbara roll her eyes.
"You actually said that?" Dinah asked.
"Out loud?" Zinda added.
“And now I can't sit down.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Barbara groused, which made Dinah soothingly pet her hair.
“You want me to get you a soda?”
“Say again?” Barda barked. “You say this sex act… hurt?”
“Well, yeah… but I don’t regret a second of it. It just took a while to find a rhythm where he could go without it hurting.” Helena kept going about floggers and spanking (Zinda asked where she met these people) as Barda rubbed her chin. That sounded promising. She'd have to get more out of Helena about it.
***
Scott got home late that evening, after Barda and the Birds had dealt with the drug lord. He was as Dinah had said; dime a dozen. Still, a fight was like sex, or pizza. Even when it was bad, it was damned good fun.
Scott snuck in the back to strip off his damaged costume, hiding his burnt cape under the sink. He’d sneak it to his tailor tomorrow.
Barda knocked on the door to the bathroom. “Scott! Is that you?”
“Uh, yeah, I really had to go.” Scott shut the cupboard and quickly checked the rest of his costume for damage. Nothing Barda would notice. “There was a spot of bother with the locals… false god, evil priest, human sacrifice, world-shattering social change… soooo the check might not clear.”
“Aren’t you done yet?”
“I just want you to remember that holding bank presidents out the window won’t get us any money. And if it does, we can’t keep it.”
Barda forced the door. She was wearing her red bikini, and even after all these years it still took Scott’s breath away. She wasn’t fooled for a second by Scott’s missing cape and mask, but neither of them mentioned it.
“Would you like to hear about my day?”
Scott really, really did.
“Oracle had us bringing in a drug lord from Panama. He had an army of mercenaries. They were well-armed, but in need of proper discipline. I gave it to them.”
Scott wasn’t listening to the details of the fight in any but the most perfunctory manner. He had a distaste for such things. He was watching the light in Barda’s eyes and the excitement in her voice.
Barda had him backed against the wall as she went on, her voice lowering, growing smoky with lust. “I tore through them like tissue paper, defeating them utterly. Rendering them powerless.” She slowly ripped open his costume like it was saran wrap. Scott gulped, but didn’t say anything. He’d never been so thankful for a ruined costume.
“Scott? Can we do something a little different this time, since it is a special occasion?”
“Like what?”
Her clothes seemed to flee before her as soon as she undid them. “You could take a different road.”
“Such as?”
“You could… go… another way…”
“I’m… legitimately confused.”
Sighing, Barda pulled him into a hard kiss before saying “Fuck my ass like I’m your bitch. Fuck my ass like I’m your bitch in heat!”
Scott bit his lip, a bit shocked and wondering if barking entered into this, but eager to please. Not knowing what to say, he just did the first thing that popped into his mind: looped his arms around Barda’s waist and gave her ass a squeeze. “You mean this ass?”
It was a terrible line, but Barda was past caring. She’d been thinking of this, of Scott, all day, so all she did was nod mutely. And turn around. Backing into him, she began to grind against Scott like Helena had told her to do. The armored texture of his suit felt amazing against her bare skin. The mating dance probably worked better in the taboo context of the dance floor, but Scott didn’t seem to mind. He nipped at Barda’s neck and massaged her breasts, although all that paled in comparison to the feeling of his cock hardening against her ass.
Barda couldn’t stand it anymore. She whipped around, slammed him against the wall (making Scott a wincing acquaintance of the towel bar), and forced him inside her. He rocked against her as best he could in his awkward confines.
“Don’t come,” she told him hoarsely. “Just get your cock nice and wet in my cunt.”
After just a few thrusts, she was sated enough to push him out and drag him to the bedroom. He tackled her to the bed as soon as they were through the door, and for the next few minutes they wiggled fully onto the mattress, Scott lavishing praise on her body, Barda welcoming him home.
“Stop, stop!” Barda pushed him off her. As high as her tolerance for pain was, these starts and stops were enough to break her. She flipped over and shook her ass gently, enticingly. “You know where I want you.”
“Are you sure? What if your arms get tired?”
Scott and his protectiveness. So sweet.
“Scott, don’t make me wait.” She didn’t say it in a threatening manner, but in a sweetly coy way that she knew would make Scott jump.
He snatched up a tube of sex lotion kept at bedside for use in conjunction with her Mega-Rod (and far too much tequila, often enough). “Hey, lube?”
Barda batted it away. “Bah!”
“Not for you, for me.”
“Just so long as you hurry.”
Scott squeezed some out on his palm and quickly began massaging it into her ass.
“Scott, I want you too much to wait…” she growled.
He didn’t listen. He was taking his time, knowing she didn’t mean anything by her gruffness. Barda gave in and hugged the nearest pillow. It did feel good. As long as she had Scott with her, she could wait while he puzzled out his every step. His fingers were growing progressively bolder, exerting more force on her, making warmth taper through her body. A finger invaded her ass and Barda’s teeth snapped down. She had to wait, tormented, as he massaged more lotion in with more fingers. It was good, it was damned good, but it was a promise, not fulfillment.
Then he stopped, his hands moving over her until they settled about her waist. She reared up on spread arms, ready to receive him.
“Now?”
“Now,” Barda groaned, hearing the unbearably erotic sound of lotion slipping from his hand to his cock.
She felt the heated touch of his cock on her ass, then Scott exerted himself. Between the tightness of her body and his gentle caution, it took him a few moments, but finally he pushed inside.
At first it was unbearable pressure and slight but growing pain. She exhorted him onward with grunts, groans. Every inch was exquisite agony, a chance to test her pain tolerance outside of battle and where it really mattered. She felt more fulfilled every second he was moving deeper inside her. It should have been inexorable, but every now and then, when her teeth grinded too hard together, he would pause and kiss the back of her neck and allow her to breathe. She hated and loved him for it, and the love was growing and the hate was a faint shadow, already forgotten.
Barda felt stretched, more and more obscenely, until all the pain had been wrung out of her like water from a washcloth, leaving only pleasure. “Come on! Get it all in me, soldier!”
His fingers steepled on her waist as he tried, then one hand closed on her hair and pulled back hard, awakening new pain in her. Barda moaned happily. Pressured, her asshole relented and let him slide home.
He bottomed out, began to withdraw. Each inch was both relief and unfulfillment, but he paused halfway out of her and thrust all the way back in. It was delicious as only pain could be. Barda favored him with a scream. He repeated the thrust, drawing back, driving in, faster and faster, until the bed was shaking and her hands were biting into the bars of the headboard. She was so glad they’d invested in molybdenum for the bedframe.
He pushed her down against the mattress so hard she could feel the bedsprings, was now on top of her as he pistoned down into her ass. She'd never felt so fulfilled, so completely possessed. He gritted in her ear about the beach two hours ago, the thong she'd worn, how he couldn't think of anything else. Before he could get to the point he was coming, and Barda lost herself in the sudden heat of it, biting her lip until she tasted blood, feeling his fingers at her clit, his tongue laving the back of her neck, almost too much to bear, then his teeth at her ear, hard, harder, too much, and then nothing but blessed heat, all over and inside her body.
It took minutes for her to regain her breath. If she were in battle, she'd be dead. But then, she didn't need to worry. She had Scott.
"That was wonderful. We must do that again sometime."
Scott was already settling against her, his hand lingering on her ass as he felt her out. "Whatever you want, Barda love," he panted out.
"Did you have fun?"
"With you? Always."
"Wanna go again?"
Scott's eyes opened wide. And he thought Apokolips had been merciless. "Uh, maybe we could just cuddle for a while."
"Alright… have you ever thought about a threesome?"
Sex within a loving relationship. Not fluffy, no hearts and flowers, maybe a little rough, but there should be an element of mutual trust/liking.
It would also be nice if Barda could be a little dominant, but that's not a strict requirement.
Barda couldn’t concentrate on the mission briefing. Scott was doing a month-long show on Rigel as Barbara spoke and he would be home by that evening. She wanted to do something special for him, but what? Scott was a man of simple tastes. Lingerie? He liked armor, and then not armor. An extravagant home cooked meal? Maybe if Barda could cook.
Her musings were interrupted by Helena showing up for the briefing, late as usual. This time there was something amiss; a hitch in her step. Barda examined her for injuries. She found none, but Helena did have about her that intangible energy men called… the Glow.
“Late night?” Barbara called wryly, resting her laser pointer in her lap.
“And early morning.” Helena sprawled across Zinda’s lap with her ass in the air, the frock she was wearing riding up to the tops of her upper thighs. “My ass is sore.”
“Want me to kiss it better?” Zinda asked with her customary grin.
“That’s what got it sore!… kinda.”
“As fascinating as this is, guys? International drug lord?” Barbara waved the laser pointer at the gargantuan holographic screen (which she’d taken a long time setting up, not that anyone cared, except for Dinah who’d taken her out for seafood after Barbara had commiserated to her).
“Dime a dozen, Babs. This is more important,” Dinah said, rising from the teacher’s-pet stool she’d had planted near Barbara. “Helena got some.”
Barda huffed. “On Apokolips, we save the celebration for after the victory.”
“See? Take a page from Barda’s book.”
“Excuse me? Why were you so out of breath when everyone but Dinah was on that mission yesterday?” Helena demanded.
This flustered Barbara. “I was jogging!”
“You can’t walk!”
“Hey, she’s sensitive about that!” Dinah said protectively.
In short order, there was yelling and then crying and hugging (at least, Barda knew they wanted to, the big sissies), and it was agreed to put the briefing on hold for baby carrots and Helena’s getting some. Barda gripped her Mega-Rod tightly, counted to 30, and tried to think of something to do for Scott. Maybe she should just give up and ask Oberon.
“He’d been fingering my ass for a half hour, so finally I just told him ‘Fuck my ass like I’m your bitch. Fuck my ass like I’m your bitch in heat!’” Helena was saying, her retelling interesting Dinah and Zinda, but making Barbara roll her eyes.
"You actually said that?" Dinah asked.
"Out loud?" Zinda added.
“And now I can't sit down.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Barbara groused, which made Dinah soothingly pet her hair.
“You want me to get you a soda?”
“Say again?” Barda barked. “You say this sex act… hurt?”
“Well, yeah… but I don’t regret a second of it. It just took a while to find a rhythm where he could go without it hurting.” Helena kept going about floggers and spanking (Zinda asked where she met these people) as Barda rubbed her chin. That sounded promising. She'd have to get more out of Helena about it.
***
Scott got home late that evening, after Barda and the Birds had dealt with the drug lord. He was as Dinah had said; dime a dozen. Still, a fight was like sex, or pizza. Even when it was bad, it was damned good fun.
Scott snuck in the back to strip off his damaged costume, hiding his burnt cape under the sink. He’d sneak it to his tailor tomorrow.
Barda knocked on the door to the bathroom. “Scott! Is that you?”
“Uh, yeah, I really had to go.” Scott shut the cupboard and quickly checked the rest of his costume for damage. Nothing Barda would notice. “There was a spot of bother with the locals… false god, evil priest, human sacrifice, world-shattering social change… soooo the check might not clear.”
“Aren’t you done yet?”
“I just want you to remember that holding bank presidents out the window won’t get us any money. And if it does, we can’t keep it.”
Barda forced the door. She was wearing her red bikini, and even after all these years it still took Scott’s breath away. She wasn’t fooled for a second by Scott’s missing cape and mask, but neither of them mentioned it.
“Would you like to hear about my day?”
Scott really, really did.
“Oracle had us bringing in a drug lord from Panama. He had an army of mercenaries. They were well-armed, but in need of proper discipline. I gave it to them.”
Scott wasn’t listening to the details of the fight in any but the most perfunctory manner. He had a distaste for such things. He was watching the light in Barda’s eyes and the excitement in her voice.
Barda had him backed against the wall as she went on, her voice lowering, growing smoky with lust. “I tore through them like tissue paper, defeating them utterly. Rendering them powerless.” She slowly ripped open his costume like it was saran wrap. Scott gulped, but didn’t say anything. He’d never been so thankful for a ruined costume.
“Scott? Can we do something a little different this time, since it is a special occasion?”
“Like what?”
Her clothes seemed to flee before her as soon as she undid them. “You could take a different road.”
“Such as?”
“You could… go… another way…”
“I’m… legitimately confused.”
Sighing, Barda pulled him into a hard kiss before saying “Fuck my ass like I’m your bitch. Fuck my ass like I’m your bitch in heat!”
Scott bit his lip, a bit shocked and wondering if barking entered into this, but eager to please. Not knowing what to say, he just did the first thing that popped into his mind: looped his arms around Barda’s waist and gave her ass a squeeze. “You mean this ass?”
It was a terrible line, but Barda was past caring. She’d been thinking of this, of Scott, all day, so all she did was nod mutely. And turn around. Backing into him, she began to grind against Scott like Helena had told her to do. The armored texture of his suit felt amazing against her bare skin. The mating dance probably worked better in the taboo context of the dance floor, but Scott didn’t seem to mind. He nipped at Barda’s neck and massaged her breasts, although all that paled in comparison to the feeling of his cock hardening against her ass.
Barda couldn’t stand it anymore. She whipped around, slammed him against the wall (making Scott a wincing acquaintance of the towel bar), and forced him inside her. He rocked against her as best he could in his awkward confines.
“Don’t come,” she told him hoarsely. “Just get your cock nice and wet in my cunt.”
After just a few thrusts, she was sated enough to push him out and drag him to the bedroom. He tackled her to the bed as soon as they were through the door, and for the next few minutes they wiggled fully onto the mattress, Scott lavishing praise on her body, Barda welcoming him home.
“Stop, stop!” Barda pushed him off her. As high as her tolerance for pain was, these starts and stops were enough to break her. She flipped over and shook her ass gently, enticingly. “You know where I want you.”
“Are you sure? What if your arms get tired?”
Scott and his protectiveness. So sweet.
“Scott, don’t make me wait.” She didn’t say it in a threatening manner, but in a sweetly coy way that she knew would make Scott jump.
He snatched up a tube of sex lotion kept at bedside for use in conjunction with her Mega-Rod (and far too much tequila, often enough). “Hey, lube?”
Barda batted it away. “Bah!”
“Not for you, for me.”
“Just so long as you hurry.”
Scott squeezed some out on his palm and quickly began massaging it into her ass.
“Scott, I want you too much to wait…” she growled.
He didn’t listen. He was taking his time, knowing she didn’t mean anything by her gruffness. Barda gave in and hugged the nearest pillow. It did feel good. As long as she had Scott with her, she could wait while he puzzled out his every step. His fingers were growing progressively bolder, exerting more force on her, making warmth taper through her body. A finger invaded her ass and Barda’s teeth snapped down. She had to wait, tormented, as he massaged more lotion in with more fingers. It was good, it was damned good, but it was a promise, not fulfillment.
Then he stopped, his hands moving over her until they settled about her waist. She reared up on spread arms, ready to receive him.
“Now?”
“Now,” Barda groaned, hearing the unbearably erotic sound of lotion slipping from his hand to his cock.
She felt the heated touch of his cock on her ass, then Scott exerted himself. Between the tightness of her body and his gentle caution, it took him a few moments, but finally he pushed inside.
At first it was unbearable pressure and slight but growing pain. She exhorted him onward with grunts, groans. Every inch was exquisite agony, a chance to test her pain tolerance outside of battle and where it really mattered. She felt more fulfilled every second he was moving deeper inside her. It should have been inexorable, but every now and then, when her teeth grinded too hard together, he would pause and kiss the back of her neck and allow her to breathe. She hated and loved him for it, and the love was growing and the hate was a faint shadow, already forgotten.
Barda felt stretched, more and more obscenely, until all the pain had been wrung out of her like water from a washcloth, leaving only pleasure. “Come on! Get it all in me, soldier!”
His fingers steepled on her waist as he tried, then one hand closed on her hair and pulled back hard, awakening new pain in her. Barda moaned happily. Pressured, her asshole relented and let him slide home.
He bottomed out, began to withdraw. Each inch was both relief and unfulfillment, but he paused halfway out of her and thrust all the way back in. It was delicious as only pain could be. Barda favored him with a scream. He repeated the thrust, drawing back, driving in, faster and faster, until the bed was shaking and her hands were biting into the bars of the headboard. She was so glad they’d invested in molybdenum for the bedframe.
He pushed her down against the mattress so hard she could feel the bedsprings, was now on top of her as he pistoned down into her ass. She'd never felt so fulfilled, so completely possessed. He gritted in her ear about the beach two hours ago, the thong she'd worn, how he couldn't think of anything else. Before he could get to the point he was coming, and Barda lost herself in the sudden heat of it, biting her lip until she tasted blood, feeling his fingers at her clit, his tongue laving the back of her neck, almost too much to bear, then his teeth at her ear, hard, harder, too much, and then nothing but blessed heat, all over and inside her body.
It took minutes for her to regain her breath. If she were in battle, she'd be dead. But then, she didn't need to worry. She had Scott.
"That was wonderful. We must do that again sometime."
Scott was already settling against her, his hand lingering on her ass as he felt her out. "Whatever you want, Barda love," he panted out.
"Did you have fun?"
"With you? Always."
"Wanna go again?"
Scott's eyes opened wide. And he thought Apokolips had been merciless. "Uh, maybe we could just cuddle for a while."
"Alright… have you ever thought about a threesome?"