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Chapter 9
by
micdan282
What's next?
Fight Club Pt 2
With a growl, Nico spun her around, bending her over the hood of her car and pulling down her tights. The metal was cool against her heated skin, a stark contrast that sent a shiver down her spine. She heard the rustle of fabric as Nico undid his pants, the sound of his zipper lowering making her pussy ache with anticipation. She glanced over her shoulder, watching as he pulled out his thick, hard cock, stroking it slowly as his eyes devoured her
"Fuck, Rikki," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You're so fucking wet for me." She could feel the heat of his gaze on her ass, her body trembling with need. She wanted him inside her, wanted to feel him stretching her, filling her completely.
Nico stepped closer, his cock pressing against her entrance. She moaned, her hips pushing back, **** for him. He chuckled, his hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. "Impatient, aren't we?" he teased, his voice a low rumble. "You're always so fucking eager."
With a growl, he thrust into her, his cock filling her in one swift motion. Rikki cried out, her body arching as she adjusted to his size. He felt so fucking good, so deep inside her, stretching her in the most delicious way. Nico groaned, his hips rolling as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of her with a rhythm that had her gasping for breath.
"Fuck, Nico," she moaned, her fingers clutching at the hood of the car. "You feel so fucking good." He growled in response, his hips picking up pace, his cock pounding into her with a **** that had her seeing stars. She could feel the tension building inside her, her body coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust.

Nico's hand slid down to cup her breast, his fingers pinching her nipple through the thin fabric of her top. She gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her clit. "Fuck, Rikki," he groaned, his voice strained. "You're so fucking tight. I'm not going to last much longer."
She moaned, her body trembling on the edge of orgasm. "Don't stop," she begged, her hips pushing back to meet his thrusts. "Fuck me harder, Nico. Make me cum."
With a growl, he obliged, his hips slamming into hers with a **** that had the car rocking. Rikki cried out, her body exploding in a shower of sparks as her orgasm ripped through her. She could feel her pussy clenching around Nico's cock, her body milking him as he continued to pound into her.
"Fuck, Rikki," he groaned, his body tensing. "I'm going to cum." She moaned, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. With a roar, Nico came, his cock pulsing inside her as he filled her with his hot, sticky seed. Rikki moaned, her body trembling as she felt him spill inside her, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure crashing through her.
They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, their breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Finally, Nico pulled out, his cock slipping from her with a wet pop. Rikki groaned, her body feeling deliciously used and satisfied. She turned to face him, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, Nico," she said, her voice teasing. "That was quite the fight."
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Perils of a Novice Superheroine
A generic superheroing setting drenched with sex and scandal
Acropolis City, the center of super-human and caped crusader activity in this particular world - with its own dizzying highs and lows, high-tech skylines and slums standing in stark, four-color contrast, it provided everything that a costumed megalomaniac or masked vigilante could ask for. In fact, as is usually the case where colorful masked characters are the norm, it has become something of an institution by this point. But although the mere existence of costumed heroes and villains no longer shocks people, these people - who, by their very nature, thrive on attention - keep finding new ways to stand out from the crowd and attract the eye. This last goal tends to get a lot of emphasis in the most simple, sexualized way possible. For reasons that the world's most brilliant scientists have yet to explain, latent super-abilities seem to manifest more often in women than men by a ratio of 3 to 1 or more. This is true even when the superpower isn't "natural"; paranormal artifacts fall into their hands, esoteric martial arts schools never seem to have a male heir, the technological prototypes they test always seem to be the ones that are most easily used or abused for good and evil. Unfortunately, the glory days of the past where citizens were happy to see any old masked do-gooder show up are over - in recent years, Acropolis City has established a ranking system of heroes where those who get high marks from the citizens and resolve incidents are rewarded with corporate sponsorships and (most coveted of all) seats at the prestigious League of Propriety. Those who intimidate the populace, cause excessive collateral damage, or simply don't excite anyone, garnering low rankings, get 'asked' to move to less prestigious cities. Few superheroes want to get stuck battling clans of villainous hillbillies and corrupt small-town sheriffs for the rest of their careers, so they're always eager to please the influential citizens of Acropolis City (judges, eminent scientists, first responders, and of course the all-important reporters). On the other side of the law, a similar dynamic predominates; only the most glamorous and charismatic costumed ne'er-do-wells can make it in this town. And so, the novice superheroines just learning the ways of battling for justice and order, without any team to back them up, always end up patrolling the skeeviest, most undesirable slums of the city and taking on the most thankless rescues. As if that weren't bad enough, most of them feel obliged to dress in ways that get more outlandish and revealing with every passing year while they fight the good fight and/or feed their craving for attention, depending on how you see the 'cape life'. As if that weren't troublesome enough, the superhuman mutations that make so many of these heroes' careers possible also result in greatly increased sexual sensitivity, particularly in females. The adventures and misadventures that these spandex-clad lady crusaders get into are often too hot to print for the kind of comics that their young admirers would read. Messy mistakes will be made, but you don't want to disappoint your readers, do you? So let the League know what kind of superheroine you are, your chosen name, powers, and appearance, and they'll send you out on your first patrols. Good luck.
Updated on Dec 27, 2025
by micdan282
Created on Nov 30, 2016
by fyreant
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