Marry The Knight

A moment later, she opened her eyes in shock. Bruce's penis still stood before her, dripping its excess and flagging only a little. She watched its hypnotic deflation as it settled, still amazingly substantial, against Bruce's leg. Then she looked at herself.

Her breasts, still rising and falling to the beat of her breathless anticipation, were absolutely covered in sticky white ejaculate. She could feel even more of it on her face, like she'd just put on twelve layers of facepaint. It was warm and heavy, and when she licked her lips, it didn't at all have the acidic tinge of the Joker's seed. This was almost... yummy.

She looked up at him once more, thankful and overjoyed. "I always wanted a white wedding."

***

As if a curse had been broken, Harley's baby-talk awakened Bruce from his trance. The mission came first; his dry spell had been nearly as long as Harley's, and without prison showers and Ivy to tide him over. He was shocked at how much he had enjoyed this.

Rapidly, he tucked himself away and excused himself from Harley. Thankfully, she was accustomed to her boyfriends' post-coital showers. She waited until he had gone, then ran a finger over her breast, coming up with a tower of cum. Harley could barely observe the uncanny sight for more than a second before she had her finger in her mouth, slurped clean.

Finally, she began to masturbate. After all, Mr. Wayne hadn't said she couldn't do that.

***

Bruce charged into the bathroom and ripped off the NuLatex gloves he had worn to mimic human skin. He had no idea just how contagious Ivy's virus was; although he'd prepared for it, he'd started off the encounter with no clue he would be fingering Harley. Now he dropped the gloves into the biohazard waste can that every room in the house had. As a billionaire, he could afford to be eccentric. Then, using his elbows, he turned on the tap and prepared to spend the next fifteen minutes scrubbing off his hands.

But first, he smelled them, and caught a distinct scent of peppermint. One of Ivy's enhancements.

He found it only whetted his appetite.

***

Still naked, and still fairly covered in jizz, Harley entered her new bedroom in a daze. Ivy had already redecorated, freeing the plants Bruce had provided from their pots and taking out the wall between her room and Harley's. The shared bedroom now resembled a jungle, its roots flowing in and out of the windows Ivy had so gleefully shattered. She was just as naked as Harley, though the usual assortment of leaves and vines conspired to preserve a modicum of modesty. She fully expected Wayne to barge in at any time, and had no wish to allow him to see her in all her glory.

"Well that didn't take long," Ivy observed, her eyes turned to the setting sun. "Trouble getting it up? I have some herbs that would—"

Then she heard, and felt, a drop of semen land on her undergrowth. Ivy turned to see Harley with face and sex smeared with cum, Bruce's on top and her own at bottom.

"Brucie threw me a surprise bukkake party. You should've seen my face." She swayed there a moment, then fell face down on the bed. This exposed the red handprints tattooed on her ass.

"Harley!" Ivy ran to her. Sliding onto the bed like she was stealing home and turning her over. "What'd he do to you?"

"He made me cum," Harley said dully. "He made me cum a lot."

"Oh, you poor baby..." Ivy held out her hand. In a few seconds, a vine was there, secreting a lotion to sooth Harley's battered bottom. As she rubbed in it, her sympathy was killed by agitation. "At least tell you infected him."

"Uh-uh. He didn't stick it in. Anywhere." Harley giggled. "He was a perfect gentleman!" She licked his cum from the point of her chin.

"Stop that!" Ivy slapped her hand away from her mouth. "Don't you worry, Harl. Sleep. I'll deal with this personally."

"I think I'm in love..." Harley murmured.

***

And in the Clocktower, Barbara began typing a text to Bruce's phone, warning him of the plan Ivy was even now sharing with Harley.

"Good thing they're not comforting each other with sex," Dick said beside her. He had a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

"Yeah," Barbara said, somewhat wistfully. "That would've been awkward."

Dick broke cheerfully from his disappointment. "On an unrelated note, think we could talk Dinah and Kory into mud-wrestling?"

Barbara shot him a look. "They're your wives, booty wonder. You tell me."