Let's Swing

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Let's Swing Page 73

by Piquette Fontaine


  “Minions, disperse!” Commanded Blaq as the two of them wrestled in midair, “I will deal with this fool on my own...” And his many masked goons fled the chaotic city street, retreating to safety with their bags full of treasure.

  There was nothing Ashley could do but look on in stunned horror, wishing that neither party in this battle would win, but knowing that one of them must.

  They zoomed back and forth between buildings. Splendor smashing Blaq into a window. Blaq smashing Splendor into a window washer, who fell but landed safely on a conveniently placed fabric awning. Splendor threw a punch at Blaq's eye, missing and barely grazing his ear instead. Blaq threw a punch back and gave Splendor a black eye. Splendor shot a laser across Blaq's front, searing a glowing diagonal line across his chest. Blaq placed his hands in front of him, gathering in a beam of light from nowhere, and blasted it forward toward Splendor. Splendor flew down several blocks, smashing through office building after office building, until finally landing with a loud slap between the faces of two witches on a Wicked billboard. With a gummy thud he landed face first on the ground, and Blaq saw that his worries were more or less over for the day. He floated serenely back down to Ashley, her chest heaving despite having had no direct participation in the battle, and presented her with the wickedest of smiles.

  “You see, there is no true merit to being the good guy in life. 'Goodness' is something that the weak idolize because they think it will protect them. It is therefore impossible to ever achieve true power without one becoming a bit... Naughty, first...” He gave her a horrible, wonderful look, and she could almost feel him undressing her with his eyes, violating her in the most profane of ways... Or rather, she was imagining him standing naked in her bedroom, tearing off her clothes and then the two of them humping like rabbits, so she hoped and assumed in spite of herself that he was envisioning the exact same thing.

  She shuttered.

  “Give me a call sometime if you want to know exactly what it is I can offer you... I can promise you wholeheartedly that you will leave with more than just a smile on your face... If you decide to leave at all, that is...”

  She tried to open her mouth to say something, but it occurred to her that there was absolutely nothing she could say to this most absurd and perfect offer.

  “Just something to think about, love. Good day to you.”

  And with that he was gone, soaring off into the sky, leaving Ashley stunned and in shock for a moment before coming to her senses, and running down the streets of Manhattan to go and scrape up the gummy mess of her boyfriend.

  Chapter 4

  Ashley's contemplation of infidelity was made much more defined by Charles' attitude over the course of the following week. Following his defeat at the hands of the man with whom she was half-intent upon making him a cuckold, Captain Splendor lay moping around his apartment for days, at first refusing to take off his uniform, and then lying around on the couch in nothing but his inner underwear, refusing to leave the living room, doing whatever the opposite of affirmation exercises are.

  “I suck... I just totally and completely suck, and I always will...”

  And of course, there was no sex whatsoever. Twice he'd asked Ashley to give him a handjob on the couch, and both times she'd done so for him out of sheer pity and guilt. But the only thing that she managed to get between her legs during that week-long dry spell was plastic and battery-operated, with the exception of a day when she'd happened to stop by a fresh produce stand and picked up a particularly well-endowed cucumber after work. She was both embarrassed and mildly turned on the next day when she found out Charles had ended up discovering the recently deflowered vegetable in the fridge, and eaten the end she'd used on herself in a BLT sandwich. It wasn't quite the same thing really as being eaten out, but at this point she would settle for whatever small titillation from this man that she could get.

  And every day, at least five times a day, she would pull Blaq's business card out of her purse, tilting it back and forth to watch the glare of its lettering in the dim light of the apartment, feeling anxious and aroused every time she read his slogan on the back of the card: “Once you go Blaq, you never go back.”

  Twice she'd had the number entered into her cell phone, her thumb hovering over the TALK button and getting ready to plunge herself into the magical world of infidelity, when each time she'd broken down crying, cradling her head in her hands, and then jacked herself off furiously with her fingers to mental images of Blaq bending her over the bathroom sink, screwing her lights out.

  And then one day, finally, she'd decided to take the plunge. Charles had not said a single word to her the entire morning and afternoon, grunting answers to her any time she asked him a question about something, until around six o'clock that evening when she told him she was going out to meet her friend Rachel for drinks. He leaned up just about an inch and cleared his throat, freeing what seemed to be a considerable portion of phlegm, and said in a raspy, out-of-practice voice, “Can you pick me up some Ben and Jerry's on your way back?”

  And something about this incident finally made Ashley snap.

  She stormed out of the apartment and onto the street, distractedly texting Rachel, “Sry cnt make it 2nite. Have 2 reschedule.” And then immediately dialing Blaq's number on her phone. She was so angry at Charles that she was taken aback when she heard the villain's cool, seductive voice on the other end of the line, having forgotten that she was supposed to be nervous about this.

  “I wondered when I'd be hearing from you.”

  “I... Where can I meet you?”

  “I'll find you.”

  Click.

  And she found that she was panting like a dog the moment Blaq hung up, winded despite having spoken a total of six words to the man, and without any particular destination in mind, she set off in the direction of Times Square.

  In about a half hour she was standing amongst a gaggle of tourists, watching a man dressed as Optimus Prime posing with children and pathetic men from the crowd. Out of nowhere a furry red hand grabbed hold of her arm, and she found herself being escorted away from the crowd by a man dressed up in a giant Elmo costume. He put his other hand over her eyes and whispered “It's me,” in her ears. “I told you I would find you.”

  “Why are you Elmo?” she whispered through the blackness, and his furry hand began to get itchy pressed up against her forehead. “Is this like a fetish or something?”

  “I can't let anyone see who I am,” he said, “This is New York City, where a giant furry Elmo is likely to attract moderately less attention than a well-established supervillain. Plus, I can't let you see where I'm taking you... You can't know where I'm located, for obvious reasons.”

  She should have been nervous, but she wasn't. Or rather, any nervousness she felt translated directly into sexual readiness, and she knew that the instant Blaq took his hand away from her eyes there was a good chance she might jump on him, right there on the spot.

  She lost track of the time, unable to know for sure whether they'd been walking for minutes or hours before ascending a flight of stairs, and departing from the coolness of the night air for the warmth of a heated building.

  At last he pulled away his hands, and the two of them were standing in the center of a spacious, candle-lit bedroom.

  She looked around, slightly slack-jawed, then turned to see Blaq, standing there, the Elmo suit now completely gone from sight, and wearing nothing at all except for a perfectly skimpy black thong.

  “I- what happened to the Elmo suit?” she asked, dumbfounded by everything.

  Blaq did not say a word, but leaned in, and kissed her slowly, heatedly, passionately on the lips. He pulled away with maddening slowness, and whispered into her mouth, “What Elmo suit?”

  And Ashley didn't ask anymore stupid questions after that.

  Chapter 5

  Making love to Blaq did not go at all like Ashley had for so long fantasized it would. In fact, her imagination had not had the capacity to imag
ine the things that Blaq would do to her in that bedroom, and she was sure she would not have lasted a whole entire week without his cock in her if she had. Sex with a supervillain was everything she had imagined it to be with a superhero, but wasn't. It was every bit the other-wordly, orgasmic experience one would expect from doing it with someone who possessed superhuman abilities, but without the obnoxious boyscout-caliber restraint shown by Captain Splendor and his flaccid boy wonder in their own bedroom.

  Blaq did not show restraint as to what he would do to another human body.

  He seemed to know intuitively what you wanted, what it was you didn't know you wanted until he gave it to you, and exactly how far he could push you to your breaking point before he should relent.

  And then he kept on barreling right along, far past that breaking point.

  His tongue showed no shyness in introducing itself to Ashley's own. The second they came back together he plunged himself deep into her mouth, lapping her up, tugging on her lips with her teeth every time she pulled away, sucking out any ounce of soul she may have possessed that would make her feel guilty about what she was doing. Gently he ran his muscular arms up and down the contours of Ashley's clothed body, the sensation of his touch penetrating deep into her body despite the layers of fabric. She felt her nipples begin to grow erect beneath her blouse, could feel the heat digging into her from the tips of his fingers. Her body began to sizzle, and suddenly he pulled away, lifting his hand into the air, and her blouse rose magically up over her head and off of her body, tugging up at the heart-shaped pendant she wore around her neck and letting it fall gently back down in the center of her chest as it pulled away. He cupped both of her breasts in his hands, massaging them around in the cups of her bra, causing the straps to fall down her shoulders by the sheer force of his will, but still not removing it from her.

  He removed her boots manually, having her lift one foot at a time as he slid each one off of her and then surprised her by suckling on one of her big toes. She'd never before considered this something to be desired, but in that instant she knew that it was exactly the perfect sensation, and she somewhat mourned its departure from his lips.

  Her skirt, too, he took off by hand, rolling it down her legs, getting a good feel for every inch of her as he moved, and leaving her standing dressed in a thong even skimpier than his own. He leaned back in and resumed kissing her on the lips, long, moist kisses that seemed as though they each went on for eternity, and slowly he made his way down, causing her to close her eyes and tilt her head back as he kissed her neck, her sternum, the area of exposed cleavage in between her breasts, her navel, as far down below her waistline as he could reach before the thong made it impossible.

  And suddenly it was around her knees, around her ankles, in a heap on the floor.

  She lay back on the bed, eyes closed, mouth agape, her own hands now cupping her breasts, needing to exhale but unwilling to allow herself to breathe lest she somehow lose this in doing so.

  This was how you went down on a woman.

  Every lick, every jab, every harmonious sweeping across her contours, was exactly right. He seized hold of her hand and had her place it on the back of his head, indicating that he wanted her to hold him captive there to her vagina. Suddenly he moved just slightly black and blew a puff of air into her, a breath that was completely unnatural, both warm and cool and capable of inducing an intense sensation, and it ran up along her throughout her entire body. And at last she had to exhale, letting out a loud, impassioned moan, and a puff of steam floated out of her mouth, his warm/cool breath having made an impossible journey from one end of her to the other.

  It took about five minutes of this, coupled with the insertion and thrusting of two unnaturally heat-inducing fingers for Ashley to come as she'd never come before in her life. Waves of agonizing pleasure blurring her existence, granted to her before Blaq had even removed his primary tool from its holster.

  She wondered through the haze of pleasure if she could possibly survive being vaginally penetrated by this man.

  And then he took off his thong.

  He. Was. Huge.

  Huge barely seemed like an adjective halfway capable of describing what he was, but it was the closest word she could think of that could even come close. Almost the instant she'd come down from the high of her climax he'd turned around, rubbing his massive member up and down between the cheeks of her backside.

  Ashley could not begin to fathom the prospect of anal with this man as he pulled off her bra from behind, but was both relieved and disappointed when, after rubbing up and down in between her a few more times, he settled instead for taking the natural course inside of her, entering her suddenly, causing her to gasp from the addition of his sheer girth into her body. She held her breath again, the huge mass in between her legs causing a lump to form in her throat, and following a single, slow glide back out of her, he thrusted back in, knocking the breath free from her lungs.

  He was off!

  At no point in the course of his pumping did Blaq work at a level that could be considered slow. He started right in at the level of speed most men achieve around climax, their skin clapping like thunder each time they collided, but with so little interim in between thrusts that it was almost mechanical in its sound, klapklapklapklapklapklapklap.

  And it only got faster.

  Any pretense Ashley may have had of propriety or collectedness was dissolved outright, and she moaned like a human being tortured as she lay bent there, a human shaft, trying to fit a piston that was originally designed for a vastly larger piece of machinery. She didn't know when she'd started coming again- she'd still been highly sensitive from getting eaten out by him earlier, and it was possible that round two had begun the instant he'd started thrusting. At any rate, the explosive ecstasy was all starting to run together now, and she did not give much thought to the how and when of things, as she slowly drifted away into the blind coma of pleasure.

  And then from here on out, it was like a dream.

  She felt as though she was seeing the world stoned, looking hazily through a cloud of drugs. Her body was soaked with sweat, her hair plastered in curls to the contours of her face. She took note of the fact that there was no longer any penis in her, and she couldn't help but feel a little bit upset about this. But then she heard Blaq's low, muffled voice through the blur of her altered consciousness:

  “Want to see a trick?”

  She nodded dumbly, just barely comprehending what she was being asked, and was soon very very glad she had said yes.

  In one instant there was one Blaq standing naked in front of her, and then suddenly there were two. And then three. And then four. And soon, a total of seven Blaq's stood around her, each one with a rock hard erection pointing in her direction. “This is one of my favorite powers,” said one of the seven clones.

  “Mine too,” she whimpered. “Just take me already...”

  And they did. All of them.

  With the aid of their flying and levitating abilities they were able to insert themselves inside of her in an otherwise impossible arrangement, with two of them inserted between her legs, stretching her lady-bits to never-before-achieved capacity, one of them managing his way painfully and ecstatically into her rump, two of them plunging deep into her throat, and one Blaq bending the other over and screwing him from behind for her viewing pleasure in the background.

  This was how you used superpowers for sex.

  Their abilities allowed them to avoid the normally inherent awkwardness of movement encountered in cases of multiple penetration. Every Blaq thrusted as vigorously and as quickly as he would have had he been the only one inside her, and the sensation was almost unbearable. She could do nothing but lie there limp as putty in their arms, gagging and coughing and squirming and squirting and trembling with every ounce of her being, not fully believing that as much as was in her was in her.

  And they started cumming.

  In sequence, almost as though it had been orches
trated. In the back. Then one between her legs, and the other as it glided in and out with the hot lube of the first. One of them down her throat, and the other one pulling out of her mouth and cumming across her face.

  She thought there was a good chance she might explode from the sensation.

  One of the two Blaqs who hadn't been inside her planted a long kiss on her lips, draining the cum from her mouth into his own, and then lapping up the streak that had gone across her face, pulling away from her with a long sticky tendril stretching from her face and then snapping away. He began to passionately kiss the Blaq who'd had him bent over for her pleasure, letting the load spill from mouth to mouth, back and forth, in what was to Ashley the absolute vision of perfection.

  And then he swallowed.

  All seven Blaq's changed their orientations, positioning themselves for a different orifice from before, and their stiff manhoods not the least bit reduced despite universal climax.

  And then they did it again. And then they all came, again.

  And they did it again. And again. And again, and again, and again. For hours.

  Ashley felt it was impossible that she was not the happiest woman in the world right now. The happiest woman ever.

  The only thing in the universe she wanted was to stay right here, to keep doing this for eternity, and to never leave this bedroom at any point.

  Chapter 6

  It was almost three days before it truly sank in with Captain Splendor that Ashley was gone. Initially, it was the conspicuous absence of the Ben and Jerry's he'd requested that had tipped him off. But when his usual collection of candy bar wrappers and empty chip bags began to quickly accumulate around him on the couch, and no one came along to clean it up, that was when it truly occurred to him.

  Ashley's missing!!

 

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