Taking the last of the Gotham City Sirens.

Catwoman arched her back and swiveled her ass, putting on a show for her **** without knowing it. “I had a run-in with one of the amulets myself. Batwoman brought it to me to ask some questions.”

“What?! No way! Spill! Was she naked? She stuffs her bra, right? Did you—“ Harley withdrew despite Ivy’s protests, put her thumb and forefinger together on each hand, and slapped the rings against each other.

“I don’t recall the finer details. I remember—mmm, yeah, baby. Give this pussy what she needs.” Catwoman tilted her head back and moaned to the ceiling while she fucked against Brandon’s thrusts. “I know she came with Supergirl, and they wanted my expertise regarding the amulet’s worth. I gave them my honest opinion, said it wasn’t shiny enough to fence. Didn’t know it was magic at the time.”

“Mmmm mmm,” Poison Ivy offered, though her mouth was already full of Harley’s breast.

“Come again?”

“I’m cumming again!” Harley’s tongue hung out and a spasm wracked her body, pulling her chest free of Ivy’s teeth.

Ivy licked her lips and ran her fingers over Harley’s stomach. “I said, it might not be magic. It could be scientific brainwashing, or pheromone manipulation, or the psychic thing Grodd or the Manhunter do. We don’t know yet.”

Catwoman spread her wrists apart and bent over further, and Brandon upped his pace until he saw her tits swinging on either side of her chest and heard them slapping together during each thrust. “It’s magic enough, Ivy. Enough to make me strip naked in front of Batwoman and her super friend.”

“Nope!” Harley shook her head. “Mm-mm, don’t buy it. There’s no way Bats could have seen you naked and not jumped you. We all know she’s got a thing for you. Heck, any time you walk around the apartment in that tank-top-and-booty-shorts combo you sleep in, I wanna pounce you, and I don’t even go for the dark-and-mysterious type. If the world’s greatest detective can’t detect that bod, she’s as blind as a bat.”

“Preaching to the choir, Harley,” Catwoman smirked, a moment of casual expression before she returned to wrinkling her brow and pursing her lips in a dead-on impersonation of a porn starlet. “But fact is, I didn’t realize I was naked until several minutes later. Which means Batwoman not only knows what I have under the hood, so does some teenage sidekick who got a bird’s-eye view.”

“But it’s Supergirl, right? Doesn’t her dad have x-ray vision or somethin’?”

“I don’t think Superman is her dad.”

“Little sister?”

“They don’t really look alike. They’re probably not related at all.”

“Are you sure? Because I totally ship them and the whole family-love thing is really important to my headcanon.”

Catwoman didn’t answer, too preoccupied with the orgasm brewing courtesy of Brandon’s frantic humping. Harley filled the void by making out with Ivy, leaving Catwoman to enjoy herself in loud, sweaty peace. Brandon squeezed his fingers into her ass, almost pulling her back into him, and she froze while he gave both of them the last push. “Fuck, yes. Deeper. Give kitty her cream.” She spoke at a half-shout, loud enough to hear every syllable but not enough to rattle the walls, an intimate volume in a husky pant he couldn’t resist. He pushed her forward until her hips hit the couch and pinned her there, leaving no room to escape when he fertilized her within plain view of his last two victims. He felt her milk him dry, sucking everything into her body, and she slumped onto the sofa in blissful ignorance.

Harley shimmied back down between Ivy’s legs, and Ivy ran her fingers through Harley’s hair as she looked at Catwoman. “Selina, you look exhausted. Take the night off. We’ll order Chinese and relax.”

“Ha, vegging out with a veg.”

“Quiet, Harley,” Ivy chided. “How about it? Girl’s night in?”

Catwoman stretched like an actual cat, a full-body extension that nearly convinced Brandon to take her again for good measure. “Sounds fantastic.” She crawled over the couch and cuddled up to Ivy, and Brandon decided his work was done. He knew where they lived now, and he could stop by any time he wanted. There was no need to exhaust himself in one evening. He gathered his clothes, wiped up the stray cum with Harley’s/Ivy’s shirt (which he planned on tossing in a dumpster halfway home), and pulled Catwoman’s head over to suck his cock for a few minutes, just because he could. Then he was gone, long before their dinner delivery could arrive.