A long, exhausting romp with twin redheads.

He gasped like a man breaching the surface of the ocean and threw himself back, literally popping free of her suction and tripping over the low table behind him. Sprawled on the floor, cock still upright and twitching, he gulped down air and relived his near-miss a dozen times in his head. He’d almost lost it all. If Crimson Fox had cum a few seconds later, or if he’d been able to hold out through her orgasm, he would have taken the amulet off, and he had no idea what would have happened. Nothing good, for sure. Even if Crimson Fox and her sister didn’t immediately knock him out, they would definitely remember his face, and there was no reality where that didn’t lead to Batwoman showing up in his kitchen within the hour. After Brandon caught his breath, he laughed out loud. The first supervillian scheme in the world saved at the last second by post-nut clarity…probably.

Knowing about the pheromones didn’t make them go away. He still longed for Crimson Fox—and Constance—more than he’d thought possible, and his chemically-accelerated refractory period already allowed him to do something about it. If the powers were genetic, or if Constance shared them with her sister, he had two women with lust-inducing powers masturbating in an enclosed space. His desires would only get stronger. He passed Crimson Fox, groping her tits along the way, and rummaged through Constance’s desk until he found some adhesive tape to secure every bit of the amulet’s chain to his naked torso. The only way he trusted himself to keep it on was specifically to not trust himself, and creating a few extra layers of sticky, painful protection would hopefully dissuade him from trying again. Once he exhausted the roll, an impressive feat through gloves, he stopped biting his lip and squeezing his toes and doing a dozen other little things to keep his focus. He took a large breath, let the pheromones in, and returned to his mission, fueled by the wonderful irony in Crimson Fox’s powers almost guaranteeing her and her sister’s imminent pregnancies.

Constance squirmed in her chair, on the brink of an orgasm herself, perhaps not her first. The power he held over her, combined with the overwhelming need to experience her with every sense, prevented him from giving her the dignity of a few more moments to herself. He dragged her to her feet and bent her over the desk, angling her plush ass and dripping pussy toward his aching crotch. She said something to her sister, starting at a normal if breathy volume and rising to a howl when he pushed inside. He’d barely slipped in the head before she jerked backward, taking his dick in a single thrust, and her orgasm began while he was still getting up to speed. He leaned forward, pressing his plastic-covered chest against her back and burying his face near her nape. She trembled in his grip, moaning with every little kiss he laid on her neck and shoulder blades, gripping the edge of her desk until her knuckles turned white. And when she’d finished, when she collapsed face-first on the mirror wood veneer, then he got started.

She came back to her senses in short order, consumed by the amulet’s influence. She propped herself up on her elbows, enough height for her breasts to swing under her until Brandon took one in each hand. His fingers played with her nipples and his grip switched from one side to the other, weighing and ravishing each mound at random. He filled her with shallow thrusts, too enamored to remove himself from her searing grip. Instead of the clap of skin-on-skin, the thud of her thighs on the desk accompanied the rhythm of their lovemaking. She writhed against him, tensing her ass and throwing her head from side to side, engrossed in a man she didn’t know existed. Yet what set him off wasn’t her luscious curves or the visions of his sperm swimming inside her, but the sight of Crimson Fox across the room perfectly mirroring her sister’s position, naked and bent over the back of a chair and jilling herself with fingers already coated in his cum. While Constance begged in French, he gave her what he’d decided she wanted, emptying his balls and leaving his mark on yet another innocent bystander.

Even if he’d wanted to stop, if he had to flee from the office before he was caught, he couldn’t. The twins had a hold on him to rival the amulet’s hold on them, and finally he had the time to exploit it. He pushed Constance back into her desk chair, crossed the room, pulled Crimson Fox’s arms behind her back, and rubbed his dick against her slit between her thighs until she found the right position to let him in. He watched her reflection in the office window, how her eyes rolled and her tits quivered when he fucked her with short, rapid strokes. She put up only a token struggle, enough to make him feel like he really had her trapped, but she didn’t actually try. All her energy went into swirling her hips, pleading for a little push to send her over the edge again. He graciously freed one arm and her hand went immediately to her clit, tickling his balls with her fingernails as she pleasured herself. They came together, fueled by each other’s desire, and she happily smiled as she took his seed into her womb for a second time.

While Crimson Fox slumped over a chair to catch her breath, Brandon returned to Constance. He tried to lift her, failed, and settled for nudging her until she sat on the edge of the desk. A slight adjustment was all he needed to slide back home, face-to-face and balls-deep with a woman he’d never met. He laid her arms over his shoulders, and in moments she was holding him tight; wrapping her legs around him was an added bonus for which he hadn’t dared to hope. The desk groaned under her shifting weight, a warning ignored by both. Her sporadic attempts at normal speech faltered under an onslaught of gasps and moans, her eyes so tight with concentration he briefly considered slowing down so he could gaze into them. In lieu of a romantic connection he doubled down on the carnal, digging his fingers into her slender waist and hammering into her unprotected sheath. She whispered one of the few terms he knew—“s'il vous plaît”—and the delicate touch of breath on his ear was too much for his chemically-induced obsession. He filled her with semen again, and she clung to him with every limb, pinning him to her naked body while she shuddered through her own orgasm.

Crimson Fox’s needy moans came to him again, and he saw an opportunity to fulfill a fantasy he (and, he thought, probably most straight men) had always held. He helped Constance to her feet and walked her over to the office sofa, laying her across it while she groped herself. Then he retrieved Crimson Fox, nibbling her neck to lead her over to her twin. Halfway there she strode ahead of him, muttering something in French as she laid one knee on the couch and straddled her sister’s face. Constance asked a question, and while Crimson Fox answered she lowered her body, pressing her pussy against Constance’s mouth and her extended tongue. She gasped her way through the rest of her response, and when she’d finished she dropped between Constance’s legs and ate her out. The conversation traded back and forth for a moment, one woman speaking while the other suckled on her clit and lapped at her nectar and fingered Brandon’s spunk ever deeper.

He didn’t expect to observe for long, not with the targets they painted for him. He began with Crimson Fox, kneeling behind her on the sofa and fucking her with his hands on her sumptuous backside. His testicles rubbed Constance’s forehead, and she dutifully licked them during pauses in her speech. Brandon almost regretted the privacy of his mission; she would never know she’d gone down on her own sister in her office, sucking a stranger’s ballsack as he gave them a new generation of twins. But it meant he was in a very exclusive club, one of only three people who would know what had transpired (two if Miss Graves didn’t keep Luthor fully updated), no matter how many would suspect in a few months’ time. The vision of two Crimson Foxes, side-by-side with swollen bellies and no clue about the father, redoubled his pace. His nuts slapped Constance’s face while he **** her sister, moving too fast for her to bathe them with her tongue. Instead she went for her sister’s button, which set off another orgasm, and her spasming insides drew out a batch of cum to overwhelm the last of her egg’s defenses.

While his third creampie oozed from Crimson Fox’s pussy onto Constance’s face, Brandon rounded the sofa to even the score. Crimson Fox didn’t question it when Brandon tilted her head to the side so he could bed Constance, only bite her lip and grind against her sister’s nose. He drank in her silhouette from her neck to her round, peach-shaped ass, and he grabbed a fistful of her hair as a handhold just because he could. She rose unsteadily to her hands, tits swinging wantonly underneath her as she rocked her body with enough **** to slide the sofa a few inches to the side, and she wasn’t even the one getting fucked. That pleasure was Constance’s, and she expressed it through trembling moans whenever her mouth was free and a variety of screams into her sister’s pussy when it wasn’t. Crimson Fox adjusted her position, laying a hand on Constance just below her belly button, and Brandon took it as a sign. He clapped his hand atop it and held it there as he came yet again, forcing her to feel Constance’s womb convulse the moment she became a mother.

As the sun finished setting and darkness filled the room, Brandon continued playing with the women, dragging them here and there to give him every experience he could imagine. He pinned Crimson Fox against the wall and passionately kissed her while her impossible hips milked him for every drop. He sat in Constance’s office chair while she rode him like a stallion, nearly bouncing off his dick with every movement. He had them kneel face-to-face, trying to hold a conversation while unconsciously giving him a double blowjob. He lay on the ground, letting Crimson Fox ride him cowgirl-style while Constance groped her heavy tits and occasionally entwined their tongues together. He **** Constance to the window, fucking her from behind with her breasts mashed against the glass and Crimson Fox rubbing her clit from the side. He had them both go prone, one face-up and one face-down, and **** them one after the other, back and forth, losing track of which was which or how many times he fertilized each. The long minutes sailed by, nearly forgotten in a miasma of lust so thick he almost couldn’t see through it, and the sisters kept with him every step of the way while trying in vain to continue a chaste, familial visit.

Something chirped from the pile that was Crimson Fox’s costume. Brandon checked the clock again. Her break was over, and it was time for her—and thus him—to return to the Watchtower. He stood and took one last look at his victims, exhausted duplicates covered in sweat, thighs and fingers and lips practically drenched with the sexual fluids of three people. He could almost swear their stomachs distended already, as though he’d filled them with so much semen they’d be leaking for days, and he preferred that explanation to any other. The marathon session had calmed his libido enough to do what he had to do, get the amulet on Constance and push her out the office door. Whether she headed home on the subway or masturbated in the back seat of a taxi or exposed herself to an extremely lucky limo driver or just flopped on the scratchy carpet between two cubicles and fucked herself until her subordinates found her in the morning, he didn’t care. The last amulet—besides his—was in the wild again, around the neck of some rich, powerful woman who was about to become very famous. With his actual mission accomplished, he squeezed Crimson Fox’s tits until she put on her headgear and started up the teleportation tunnel, and he stepped back onto the Watchtower right next to a nude, flustered, likely-pregnant superhero.

The teleporter room wasn’t empty, but this time he was too exhausted to worry about it. Zatanna stood waiting, and she almost uttered half a syllable before the amulet took hold and convinced her there was nothing wrong with Crimson Fox’s attire or rapt attention to her own creamy pussy. Before she could strip, Brandon rushed out of the room and back to his post. Tempting as the sorceress was, he’d cum more times then he could count, and he didn’t need to start an orgy in the Watchtower. If he’d done it right, everybody would assume the amulet was delivered to Constance D'Aramis and Crimson Fox had just gotten caught in the crossfire. He didn’t need to make a big play on the Watchtower, not until Luthor told him to. Until then he was going to sit back, wait, and watch the fireworks…and do a whole lot of re-hydrating.