The Bat and the Butler

The black leather hugged her curves as she crept into the dark room. The city lights flickered in the air below as the nights beat wound down. It was nearing sunrise already cats howled as instinct took over and forced the nocturnal wanderers homeward.

But Batgirl was still out, her mind buzzing with possibilities and consequences, her knees weakened from the nights play, her heart pounding beneath her firm breasts, her pussy tingling and warm. It had not been her first time.

She had sex before, but never like this. This had been wonderful. Oliver had done things with his cock that made shivers run down her spine when she thought of them. Dinah had brought her over the edge so many times she was certain she could fly now.

"Just like Batman." She thought to herself. For the first time, she thought of the Black Knight as a man. A tender man with muscles that rippled like rolling hills, she let her mind wander to the bulge beneath his black suit. She let her mind wander, until the lights came on.

Fluidly she pulled her hands away from her crotch; she had not even realized they had gone down to stroke over her mound. Quick, keen eyes scanned the room only to brighten in relief when she saw an old and familiar face looking back at her. "Oh Alfred, I didn't mean to wake you..." She stammered.

Alfred was an old friend of hers. She met him at a party for Bruce when he went off on his first of many "overseas vacations" that cloaked his many jaunts around the world, training to become Batman.

It must have been 9 years ago when she first saw that face. Neither smiling nor frowning, always alert yet always calm. When she slipped away from the party to wander the halls of the stately Wayne Manor, to her young eyes the manor seemed like a museum! So many rooms and halls and grand stairways they were a joy to run up and down, giggling all the while.

Alfred had found her in one of the libraries gleefully reading an old book. The pictures were bright and strange and the words were gibberish to her. So absorbed in the book she did not know he was there until a strong hand clamped on her shoulder. Too frightened to scream she looked up, her milk bottle glasses sliding on her tiny nose in adjustment, only to see that warm, caring look of his as he said in a loud, British voice. "Oh Commissioner Gordon, have you lost anything important?"

Everyone who was there laughed at her childishness and her Father gave her a good spanking for sneaking off like that (she had been missing for some hours!) but she was allowed to come back to the Manor often, when Bruce was away.

Now, ten years later, she knew Alfred like family.

"And where have you been young lady?" he said in his taciturn voice. Alfred's emotions were subtle, but Barbra was well trained, she detected no concern in his voice. No, he was a little angry.

"Chasing down gun runners with, err some friends." she said and she bit her lip as she said it. Her hands went behind her back and she looked down in shame. She could not lie, not to him, but what could she tell him? Canary (that was Dinah's name when she was working) had just said "Say you were with us, recuperating if anyone asks."

But she was not rested. Her pussy was actually a bit sore from the fucking she had done that night. The Green Arrow, whom by the way loooved it when you screamed "Stick me Green Arrow, Stick it where it counts!" had done her 4 times at least, and in between she had used a couple of toys with Dinah.

She was tired, but wired from the excitement of it all. Her nipples strained against the Kevlar and titanium weave yellow bat symbol on her chest and she was certain Alfred could see them. Secretly, she thought, she wanted him to see them.

"I see, and the rest of the night? Master Bruce has already adjourned for the day, and Master Dick has gone of to stay with his friends in California. Who have you been with, young lady?" She was stunned. Had anyone else said that, Bruce, even her Father, she would have raised hell!

She was nearly twenty, and had two bachelors and a masters degree, had a steady stream of income from a few computer programs she wrote in school and she stayed at her own apartment most nights. She was a mature and responsible adult, admittedly one that dressed up as a bat on a whim and had begun to fight crime three years ago.

She looked up at him. She was small for her age and he was a tall, thin man. Nearly 50 but in excellent shape, his hair was white, but full save for the very top of his head and he wore the same butlers outfit she had seen him in so many years ago. His cool gaze saw through the innocent look on her face. She had been a dirty girl, and somehow he knew it.

"Oliver and Dinah" She said in a timid voice. Her mind rushed back to Oliver's last load, the one she had insisted on swallowing. He could taste his warm cum as his name escaped her lips. Alfred merely raised an eyebrow, then paused looking at her, and then lowered it. He walked over to the dining table, pulled out a large wooden chair and stood by it. "Do you, Miss Gordon, remember the day we came to meet?" She could, vividly, and she nodded in accent.

"And do you recall what your father did to you that night, for being a naughty girl?" Her face turned bright red and her hands instinctively went to her tight asscheeks! She looked up in horror and surprise!

"Alfred I..."

"You, Miss Gordon, have been a very bad girl, haven't you?" He would know any ruse she might pull, any lie she might tell so Barbara Gordon stood in the dim light of morn that day and nodded. Her coiled face bowed in shame as she thought of Oliver's cock shooting down her throat.

"And what do bad girls get?"

"A spanking." Her voice was small, but not weak. She said it with determination and she meant it. She had been bad, dirty even, and she needed to be punished. Alfred sat down and patted his lap twice. She stood next to him and laid her tight, costumed stomach on his trouser clad legs.

Barbra bunched up her taut ass and moved her long black cape aside. The butler held her down with one hand and pulled down her pants with the other.

"Hmmm no panties I see, you have been bad." And with that he brought his hand down firmly into her creamy white cheeks with a hard THAWACK! Once, twice, three, four times until she cried out in pain. He stopped and she lay there. Her cheeks stung red and tears welled up in her green eyes.

"Tell me, did Oliver fuck your little ass?"

"Yes." she sobbed loudly "I'm such a slut!"

She knew that was the right thing to say and she felt his cock harden a bit as she squirmed on his lap. Her ass cheeks still stinging from the spanking, her brown hole from Oliver's shaft pounding it and filling it with warmth.

Again the hand came down firmly, but Barbara well knew the old man could hit harder than that. He had done this before she thought excitedly to herself! Oh my, she had thought of this man as a grandfather! But then, and grandfather is a man too.

"Oh Alfred! Don't stop yet. I did more! I slept with a woman!"

"Of course you did, you little slut." His voice now a bit cruel "You've always been a little lesbian!"

"But I'm not a lesbian! I crave men more than women. Now that I've tasted both." She stood up eagerly when he removed his hand from her back, and quickly kneeled don in front of him, placing her gloved hands on his wrinkled trousers. "Let me show you I'm not a lesbian Alfred."

"First, take of that ridiculous bat suit." He rolled his eyes, but she could feel his cock getting bigger. She stood up and took two paces backwards as she undid the clasp that held on her cape. It fell slowly to the floor as she bent down and slipped out of her yellow leather boots.

She stood barefoot on the hardwood and stared down at her reflection in the well cared for strips of dark, hard wood. Her symbol plate was held on by a Velcro like fabric, and she tore it off and tossed it unceremoniously on the table. Then she turned around and said in a childish voice. "Alfie.....could you help me with this zipper?"

She needed no help, she could put this thing on or off upside-down in total darkness in under a minute (Bruce's training was complete) but he walked the four step to her and pulled the cold silver zipper down her spine as she pulled off her supple yellow gloves with her teeth.

As her shirt fell she stepped forward again turning around as she pulled her cowl and mask off, letting her hair down to cover her face. She smiled under her momentary curtain of hair and licked her lips. She threw her head back and stood bare before him.

Alfred raised both eyebrows this time, rather quickly and did not set them down until he had undone his fly, and pulled out his proper, British cock. She bent her naked knees down on the hard floor and looked at him with wide, green eyes. She looked past his semi hard dick and locked into his eyes. He saw for moment what she felt burning inside of her belly. Lust.

Alfred stood up straight and coughed lightly remarking, as if he were asking to be handed a towel "Well, are you a dyke or aren't you?"

With that she focused on the task at hand. Her eyes fell to the long purple head and fat veiny shaft. She kissed it on the tip as if it were a tiny mouth of her true love.

She pulled it in just a bit and felt her lips yielded to its warm advance. Her mouth opened to accept more of his manhood and she brought it to her tongue. She rubbed her tongue up and down the tip of the head, tasting him.

She had not really tasted a cock before tonight. Oh she had sucked a few, on dares of dates, but now she relished in the differences of the second cock she had tasted. Oliver's was salty and a bit musty. It was harder and less meaty than Alfred's. Alfred's head was firm like a good plum but she could press it around with her tongue. It was sweater too, creamy almost. Once she took half of it in she felt the hardness.

She sucked hard and could almost feel the blood coarse into the thick veins feeding his shaft. Slowly she dragged her wet lips up to the tip, and then she explored it from each side in turn. Feeling out the tendons and muscles and veins that stood out from his erect body now like a flagpole.

"And just where did you learn that?"

"Remember that book you found me with? Well it was an Italian work by a woman on how to best control a man's penis. Entitled 'the Scepter of the Prince." Those many years ago she did not know what the words meant, nor had she fully grasped the many colorful illustrations. But she had that rare gift of a photo graphic memory, and summered once with a friend of her Father's in Italy.

Alfred laughed. She swirled her red sponge around his head and licked down the bottom of his fat tube. She planted her lips at the base where the skin drops down hanging his balls and kissed him. She kissed and kissed up and down the bas of his cock till she heard him sigh a little, then she put it all in her mouth.

The fat cock filled her and she felt it bulge out her cheeks as she sucked. Her eyes gazed up at him and she saw his head rolling around in bliss. For one glorious moment she was in control of him. She felt his life pulsate on her palette and throb in her cheeks. She reached down and rubbed her tender ass.

Long minutes later his cum flowed white and warm and creamy out of his fat cock. It came in slow waves like the salty sea and Barbra let it roll over her tongue and on her chin. She pulled the very tip to her lips and sucked hard as he slowed down, and like a primed pump more creamy cum rewarded her till she knew hew was spent.

Once more she took him in and rolled the tender meat in her hot mouth. Then she sat back naked on the cool hard floor and swallowed loudly in front of him. His pants had fallen around his ankles and his legs were shaking slightly, covered only in the soft, white hairs. She licked up the last of his cum and pulled her fingers around and into her hungry mouth.

To be continued....