Black Canary vs Aaron

A few minutes later, they were inside, standing in the grand hallway with chandeliers glittering overhead. Dinah nudged Aaron with a grin. “Enjoy the royal treatment. You’re our honoured guest tonight.”

Oliver led him up a staircase wide enough to land a plane on, then down a hall lined with paintings of stern-looking Queens from centuries past (Oliver swore he had no idea who they were). Finally, he pushed open a door to a guest room that was bigger than most people’s entire apartments.

“So, here’s your room.” Oliver gestured around at the massive bed, plush carpeting, and an ensuite bathroom that looked like it came straight out of a luxury hotel. “You’ve got a bathroom, a shower, even a minibar—help yourself. I’ll grab you some clothes.”

Oliver disappeared, leaving Aaron alone. Aaron chuckled to himself, taking in the room, the little tray of complimentary snacks, and the silence that hung over everything. “No butler, huh?” he muttered. “Guess it’s just Ollie and Dinah here. Cozy.”

He stepped out of his bathrobe. The monster cock was out once again. The jealousy of every man in Gotham, here in the outskirts of Star City.

He headed for the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime of their day’s work. Afterward, he got out, letting the air cool his skin. Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! He walked absent-mindedly, instinctively thinking this was his home.

In that moment—click!—the door swung open.

“Hey, ma…n…”

Oliver stood there, clothes in hand, blinking rapidly. That big ass dick was impossible not to see. Ten inches long, it was so much bigger than Oliver even with those **** in his system. He was reminded once again, this was a real stud.

The Green Arrow’s jaw opened and closed and he tried to have some semblance of composure.

“Uh. Clothes. I brought clothes.” Oliver cleared his throat, trying to act unfazed, though he was obviously eyeing Aaron’s supersized member. Aaron walked over and took the clothes from him. Oliver's eyes snapped down and huffed. “Dude, what do you feed that thing?” he asked, half-joking, half-genuinely curious.

“Same thing everyone else eats. Just genetics, I guess.”

Oliver laughed and looked like he was about to leave, but then he stopped, a strange look on his face. He hesitated, then turned back to Aaron.

“So, uh….” Oliver scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking a little shy. “God, I can’t believe I’m asking this.”

Aaron raised a brow. Oliver inhaled, exhaled, then asked it:

“Are you good at martial arts?”

“...huh?”

***

To be good at martial arts meant to be good with one’s hands. To be good with one’s hands meant to be good at sex—or so many women thought. The pervasive thought commonly swayed women into marrying cops and firefighters, into men of action. Some stereotypes, alas, were blatantly false. Even still, some continued to believe.

‘No powers. They’ll notice. I don't want to go all out either. That would be way too suspicious. Play it cool and clean, Aaron. This is a one in a million chance.’

Aaron Reigner knew this was a one-in-a-million opportunity. To sleep with Black Canary meant both her and her fiancé's approval. Surprisingly, the fiancé's permission was easy to get. The future husband was very eager and open to this.

Black Canary was not. She was a woman of strength, beauty, and discipline. Her expectations were sky-high. No ordinary hung man was allowed to pump and dump.

She took off her jacket, smirking. Big boobs kept in a shoulderless turtleneck bodysuit. Her breasts were just perfectly round. Without that jacket, ogling her cleavage was totally expected.

In a large, open training room within Queen Mansion, Aaron adjusted the belt on his dark slacks, paired with a fitted black t-shirt. The outfit was simple, sleek, but the belt had an extra bit of shine—like it wasn’t just for holding up his pants but maybe for throwing a bit of flair into his moves. He rolled up his sleeves, showing forearms that looked more used to doing pushups than paperwork.

On the other side of the mat, Black Canary stretched, her figure sleek in her black leotard and fishnets. Her confidence radiated through her smirk, and Oliver, standing by her side, slapped her ass to push her forward.

“Show him how it’s done, babe,” Oliver said, grinning with his arms crossed like a coach.

Dinah sauntered onto the mat, arm in a lock stretch. “Hope you’re ready, detective,” she said. “I’ve got a type, and I only like guys who know how to handle themselves.

Aaron rolled his shoulders. “Guess I’ll have to do my best to impress.”

Oliver clapped a hand together. “Alright, time’s wasting. Begin!”

They circled each other, both light on their feet, eyes locked in a mix of intensity and playful energy. Dinah feinted a jab, and Aaron dodged. They exchanged a flurry of quick punches, Dinah testing him, Aaron keeping just a notch below her level, making it look like he was just managing to keep up.

With every dodge, every near-miss, their faces ended up inches apart, breath mingling for a split second before they’d break and reset. Canary’s smirk grew wider each time she felt the brush of his forearm or caught the sparkle of his challenging gaze.

“You’ve got moves, I’ll give you that,” she praised. “Who trained you?”

“Gotham.”

“Makes sense.”

Gotham was Gotham after all. Fighting was almost a language there.

Dinah’s strikes came faster now, testing him, pushing him. He blocked her kicks, redirected her punches, his hands always where they needed to be—barely giving her an inch. His fingers even brushed her waist once, steadying her momentum, earning him a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

And then, just when he thought he had her moves mapped out, she switched things up. Kick, kick, kick. Rapid slams of the leg that targeted his head. Aaron barely had time to block before she ducked low, flipped away, and landed with a triumphant grin.

“Not bad,” Dinah said. “But not good.”

“Meaning?”

“Yoo-hoo.” From her hand, a length of black leather dangled. A belt…

“My belt…”

His belt. It was gone. Aaron’s eyes flicked down as he felt his pants slip down, right as his belt dangled from her hand. His pants dropped, and… well, everything made an appearance. With no boxers, his cock hung between his legs. A monster cock with a huge swaying ballsack.

“Like I said, I only enjoy skilled men.”

“D-Dinah?”

That was Oliver stammering. Dinah peered over her shoulder. “Yes, dear?”

Oliver’s face went from shock to awkward amusement, trying and failing to keep his cool. “Uh… Dinah, I think your top’s a little…”

She looked down at where he was pointing. Her breasts were out. Black Canary was shocked. “When…”

Her rack was huge, round and fittable in a single hand. Topped with pink nipples, erect and excited from the wind of the battle, she didn’t bother covering herself up.

Dinah shot Aaron a look and was met with a smirk. “Double-Ds. Not bad.” Aaron just crossed his arms, feigning nonchalance. “Skilled enough for you?” he quipped.

Dinah looked him up and down, a surprised glint in her eye. But then she landed on his cock. A brow was raised before she settled into a smile with those gorgeous red lips of hers.

“Well,” she said, “guess I’ve got my answer.” She tossed the belt aside. “Looks like I have two big boys as my reward.”

Two big boys, not one. This was a threesome.

Or was it?

His fiancée's remark earned a smirk from the Green Arrow and the eager archer pulled down his pants. Just the rush of air touching his cock led to an intense erection. Those ****, it seemed, weren’t for the short-term. Oliver was bigger than ever before.

He walked forward, proud and confident, while Dinah sank to the floor on her knees. She eyed her fiancé's bigger cock and held it in her hand as soon as it was in close distance. Her hand went from base to tip, base to tip, wanting to earn some pre-cum points. It worked and Oliver inhaled sharply.

“I'm sensitive, babe, so give me a second.”

“Sure.” Her grip on his cock became loose and she turned her attention over to the other upcoming member. Her eyes immediately went wide.

Oliver's beefed up eight inches versus—

“Wow.”

The biggest cock in Gotham City. Fourteen inches of casual cock.

Indeed, could this really be a threesome when a cock that big was involved? How could the other cock possibly compete?

Aaron Reigner casually eclipsed Oliver's dick in size and rose above Dinah's head. A pointed, alert cock hoping for the same grip. Except Oliver’s cock could be held with all fingers touching. The same could not be said for Aaron.

“T-this is…” Dinah had seen it at the nude beach. She had seen it now. Yet to feel it…

Her hand and her pussy suddenly felt two sizes too small. Oliver himself was speechless. His dick was a fucking miniature copy of Aaron'a monster. To even attempt to stroke it with one hand was a travesty. Dinah did not only out of consideration for his little guy. Humble and small when in the face of a real cock.

The comparisons, the feeling in her hands as she held both Oliver and Aaron, the cock shock, the cock thirst…

Dinah's cunt tightened and her pussy leaked out, trailing her fishnets.