The blonde's slender fingers traced his cock as it spasmed in her grip. She felt the underside shift as more cum flowed through. She knew she should swallow but didn't want to. She let Manticore fill her mouth and didn't protest as his jizz poured out of her slack lips.
It coated her chin. She breathed in deeply through her nose, savoring the smell of his sex. She shut her eyes as it flowed down and over her breasts.
Slowly the seed stopped coming. Vaguely she was aware of his cockhead leaving her mouth. Glory Girl closed her lips as it pulled away, keeping the cum trapped in mouth. She started swallowing, little by little emptying the large load in her mouth. When she finished she took a gasp of air, white-tainted saliva drooling from her exhausted lips.
Manticore took in Glory Girl's form. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing raggedly. Her shirt was covered in the cum she hadn't swallowed. Her heaving breasts were funneling his thick seed, forming a stream of white down the center of her chest.
"I suppose we're done here?" He asked lightly.
Glory Girl managed to open one eye. She looked up at him and then back down at the now drooping cock.
"Who said... who said... we were... done?" The words were slow and slurred together. She tried to flare her aura again but didn't quite manage. "Had a bad... day..."
Manticore stared at her for a long, long moment.
Then he wrapped his tail around her waist and lifted her up. He walked forward and gripped her thighs with his clawed hands. He kept moving forward until he was pressing her up against the battered concrete pillar. She whimpered at the cold rock pressing on her back and ass, the broad muscles against her breasts and the hot cock resting along her abs. He shifted her legs, allowing her to wrap them around his waist.
Glory Girl licked the tip of his muzzle. Her small tongue brushed against his lips and fangs until he opened his mouth. He pushed his own tongue out to meet hers. The blonde in his grasp moaned at the nearly tame `kiss'.
He shifted his legs and lowered himself until his cock was at the entrance of her pussy. Slowly, gently, he entered her again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~?
Victoria Dallon opened her bleary eyes and winced at the bright light coming in from the edges of the window. She groaned into her pillow. Her whole damn body ached.
She raised her head again and glared at the bottle of water and pair of Advil on the nightstand. So far. She reached over and fumbled with the cap. In the end she wound up using her strength to just rip off the top of the plastic bottle.
Finally she took in her surroundings. Familiar pale walls. That cheap carpet on the floor. The outdated curtains on the window. She was in one of New Wave's `emergency houses'. One the family had bought with Protectorate aid after Fleur's murder. It was off the books, the real owners hidden under a metric ton of false paper trails and bureaucratic nonsense.
The alarm clock went off. BEEP BEEP BEEP
The alarm clock on the other side of the bed. Victoria groaned loudly. Her headache hadn't even started to fade yet. She floated a few inches off the bed before another-BEEP BEEP BEEP-rang through her throbbing head and broke her concentration. She dropped back to the mattress with an `oomph'.
"Turn it off."
The alarm kept going. BEEP BEEP BEEP. She grasped a pillow weakly and covered her head with it.
"Please don't make me fly over there..."
BEEP BE-there was a click.
"Sorry. Didn't realize that would go off."
Victoria lifted the pillow off her head. She didn't need a mirror to know that her hair was matted with knots, her voice was raspy, her throat was sore, and her eyes were probably bloodshot with bags under them.
And the person standing next to the alarm clock still looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Still traced her naked figure with his gaze and smiled warmly at her.
Victoria blushed. She smoothed the covers over her, knowing that he was watching how the sheets shifted over her body.
The blonde offered him a teasing smile. "Next time, I dom."
A clawed finger tapped the alarm clock's display and changed its settings. Soft, rumbling laughter answered her. "Of course. Sorry if I was too rough. I had a bad day, too."
"No worries." Victoria rolled over onto back. Her hair fell in clumpy tangles as she moved. From her new position she could see Manticore in all his lithe, muscular, monstrous glory. "I loved it."
Manticore's long tail swayed back and forth at the pronouncement.
"Where were you?" Victoria asked as she took another sip from the water bottle.
"I made a few texts. Your mother thinks you patrolled and hung out with me for a while before deciding to spend the night here. You told her that last night and sent her a message just now."
"Mm. Thanks." Her mother. Yes. She probably wouldn't look kindly on going out late, having rough sex, and then spending the night curled up to her nine foot, secret vigilante boyfriend in the family's secret safe house.
Her mother was incredibly closeminded that way.
Victoria tried to lift herself upwards into a sitting position. Halfway through the motion her arms went slack and she dropped back onto the mattress. Manticore looked over at her quickly.
"Ok. Maybe a little too rough. It was still fucking amazing, Taylor. Really."
Manticore -Taylor— shrugged uneasily. "Yeah... like I said, I also had a bad day. I guess I took it out on you."
Victoria rolled her eyes. They had both enjoyed it, so she didn't know what he was feeling upset about. "Taylor, look at me. I loved it. Now get in here."
Taylor chuckled softly and got up onto the bed as well. The frame creaked under the increase in weight. He used his knees to move across the mattress before lying down, carefully keeping his clawed toes pointed away. Any shredded pillows or sheets would not be easy to explain.
"Still... next time we both have a bad day, let me know before we meet up. I'll bring another girl along. She can take some of the heat." Victoria smiled wickedly at the thought.
"You are a deviant pervert." This exchange was a familiar one.
"I'm serious. I want a threesome." The blonde repeated. She levitated an inch above the mattress and floated over to him. She landed softly next to him and sighed as he wrapped a warm arm around her.
"You've said that before."
"I was serious then, too."
"Mmm." Taylor's broad, black chest rumbled as he made himself comfortable on the center of the bed. "Go back to sleep."
Victoria rolled onto her side and closed her eyes again. She fluffed a stray pillow and burrowed her face into
Taylor's side, using his larger frame to block the light from the window. She savored his warmth and his scent, the smell of sex that still clung to them both. She sighed and mumbled as she let her sore body relax.
"...being serious..."
* * *
By the time they both got up again, the sun was much higher in the sky. Neither felt like doing anything, still sated and sore from a night of rough, power-fueled fucking. They were simply lounging on the bed. One figure massive, one small. One dark, one bright. One calm and collected, one fierce and passionate.
She liked that dichotomy. Liked the way the complemented each other.
Neither minded when the other said they wanted to laze about all day. Neither pushed the other into living up to some standard when they were alone.
So when Taylor said they should spend the day watching old movies, she didn't refuse. He'd mentioned the previous day only once. He brought up her argument with Gallant and Vista and said she could tell him when she wanted to. She had quietly offered the same for whatever had worked him up so much.
Neither really felt talking about their Bad Day, so they lounged and talked about everything else and nothing at all.
Inevitably, the topic came back to—
"I said I was being serious."
"You always do." Taylor poked fun at her. He also actually poked her. Stupid tail.
But she always did, Victoria admitted silently.
The idea of a threesome thrilled her. Thrilled her in a way that very little else could. Forcing Taylor to submit through her aura and strength was a heady feeling and a brilliant high: a reminder that yes, she was powerful and glorious. Him turning her into a powerless slut was amazing, a total lack of control and just not caring.
Even if it was all just `playing'.
But the both of them? Having power over a shared playmate? As they pushed and pulled her how they pleased? As she made them worship her body and Taylor turned them into mewling wreck, desperate for more?
She'd masturbated a dozen times thinking about it. Sometimes while Taylor watched.
In her mind, it was simple. They'd make an anonymous post on a website, only stating their intentions and not their identities. Someone would reply and they'd confirm that no one was being pranked or forced. They'd meet in secret. Then she and Taylor would show up `in costume'. The person would be shocked, surprised, but ultimately agree. Who would be able to resist the chance to have sex with the two of them? And then? Then they would fuck.
And no matter who that person told, no matter how vividly they could describe it...
No one would ever believe them.
That was what she envisioned.
In reality... not so easy.
They talked about it a lot. Joked about it a lot.
"Taylor, I want a threesome." She would say.
"That's because you're a deviant pervert." He would answer. It was the same old routine by this point.
This wasn't the first time she'd brought it up and it wouldn't be the last. Not if she had anything to say about it.
She mulled over the last night of sex.
How similar it was to their first time. Because their first time had been... rough.
The first time she'd ever seen Manticore had been when she was out looking for Nazis. Instead she'd seen a large, black, vaguely human creature traveling along rooftops and back alleys by some old warehouses. She'd thought he was a villain. She hadn't thought twice about landing a flying punch into the side of his face. He'd fought back. Of course he fought back. She hadn't believed him when he said he wasn't a villain.
She'd flown away with a dusty outfit and hurt pride and he'd dove into the ocean to get away.
They'd met again two weeks later, both responding to a jewelry store robbery. The robbers were nothing more than a bunch of thugs led by a cape from out of town. It was short and easy work, but also fulfilling.
And she'd learned yes, the nine foot tall beast of black nightmares actually did want to be a hero.
The pair had spoken for a while to the police and Manticore properly introduced himself to Velocity when he'd shown up.
For nearly a month they partnered up when they situation called for it. Chased the Undersiders after they botched some heist. They'd fought the Empire 88 when the Wards had been held back by the PRT.
Then she had taken his side in an argument with the Wards. And things changed.
Gallant wanted an apology and admittance that they'd made a mistake. Glory Girl felt she and Manticore were in the right. Things between Victoria and Dean became... strained.
She'd started searching out Taylor. More time, more talks, more little things that they kept doing together.
A while later, they had each had a long day. A tiring day. A Bad Day. Between a lecture from her mother, her dad... being her dad, Amy's disapproving stare after she broke a guy's legs on accident (and it really had been an accident, she hadn't thought the car would do that), and another fight with Dean, she hadn't been very calm. She'd been angry, depressed and desperate for a way to let loose some frustration. She'd have settled for just talking to another hero who wouldn't judge her.
She'd met up with Taylor on chance. They patrolled for a while, talking about random things when she had made a snarky comment. He had taken offense and snapped back. It had quickly turned into an escalating argument over something extremely stupid. Then she flared her aura and he exhaled a neon pink gas.
Then they'd fucked.
They had worked through the cause in the aftermath. Taylor had still been testing the limits and abilities of the chemicals he could expel. He'd hit her with a lungful of something that affected her libido, emotions, and her powers. The chemicals had not only boosted the strength of her force field but also altered her aura. That aura, amped to its maximum to intimidate him, instead pushed him into a lust driven frenzy.
Between her altered aura and Taylor's chemical emissions, it had turned into a vicious, rapidly escalating cycle of lust, desire, awe, and an absolute lack of inhibitions.
Taylor had once tried to describe it. He'd come up with the term `mutually responsible pseudo-para-rape'. It was as good a term as any, really.
Both had unintentionally used their powers to drive the other into a haze of passion, lust, and fury. It had been loud, rough, brutal, and ohsofuckingsatisfying. She'd ridden him so hard the ground beneath his pelvis had shattered. He plowed her into a steel wall so fiercely it had dented. Deeply.
Hours later they'd woken. That had been followed by an argument about what had happened, whose fault it was, what if she got pregnant, how was she going to explain her ruined outfit, and were they supposed to report the damages?
They'd slunk away from the building and found a working water hose to clean themselves. Victoria had learned that Taylor had near-perfect control over everything he secreted, which meant no pregnancy, salvaged what was left of her costume and come up with a story about how it was damage and parted ways intending to never speak of that night.
The next time she'd had a Bad Day she sought Taylor out on purpose. And they'd had sex on purpose.
She and Dean had been... taking another break.
That kind of set the tone of the relationship for a while. They'd mellowed in the months since. Beneath the super-tough skin and talons that could rip through tinkertech alloy, Taylor was quiet. Introspective. He was kind, but also hesitant to put himself in a position where he was the center of attention.
They would `hang out' on and off. Never making it public and never when she and Dean were officially dating, but always something would happen. She and Dean would `take a break' and she would `hang out' with Taylor. But each time her split with Dean would last a little longer and... well.
It had all culminated in a few days of consideration and realization. She and Taylor had spent one night talking, and Taylor had finally opened up about some of his life. She'd flown away with a different perspective of him.
