The following is a work of fiction intended for
adult entertainment. The author hereby declares it a work of public domain.
Rook
ICON & HOTTIE # 1
“I just don’t see why you are so nervous
about the whole thing?” Peter Small rolled his eyes at Icon’s shushing hands, “I
mean it’s your apartment too, right?”
“You just don’t get it do you? I’m intensely lucky that a super heroine of
Hottie’s stature would allow a big oaf like me to tag along as her partner. I’m
sure no match for a replacement for her former partner, Damsel. And now her old
college room mate Flare shows up out of the blue, walking out on her super hero
team, The Justice Knights, and screaming about divorcing her husband the
Justice Knights team leader, Magellan! And now the two of them are locked in Hottie’s
bed room ‘chatting’!” Icon bit his thumb in anxiousness.
“Yeah, I wonder what they are doing in there, eh?” Peter nudge the seven foot
tall white clad spandex suited mountain of muscle and winked.
“This is serious! I could be just a door opening away from getting kicked off
this team!”
“Oh please. I mean, no one is stronger than you, you can lift a bus! And you
pay half the rent.” Peter walked over across the fifteenth floor penthouse
apartment’s sunken living room and opened the refrigerator and helped himself
to a beer.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that, those belong to Hottie. I’m in enough trouble
because of you coming over here all the time.” Icon frowned and went back to
gazing at the closed door to Hottie’s bed room.
“It’s your place too. And besides I’m your old college roommate remember.”
Peter Small raised the beer in a salute and chugged it.
“Yeah, but Hottie hates you.” Icon mumbled as he began to chew at his thumb
again. “You don’t suppose Flare might just be stopping by on her way to a hotel
or something? I mean, all that luggage!”
Peter was spitting and gagging on the beer. “What do you mean she hates me?!”
“She hates you. Why? What do you care?” Icon was entirely focused on the silent
door.
“Well, hearing that a woman who can generate enough heat to replace the sun,
hates you is a little disheartening.” Peter mumbled as he quickly tried to wipe
the spilled beer into the white deep pile carpet with the toe of his shoe.
“Well, you still pay like half the rent! And besides, I’m sure she doesn’t
‘hate’ me.”
“No, she hates you. And I don’t pay half the rent. I pay all I can, which with
my computer on line telemarketing sixty hour a week in home job just about
covers the electric bill and almost nothing else in this place! I’m just dead
weight to her, and I don’t get her jokes! She’s smarter than me, more powerful,
and got everything going for her! I’ll be out of here as soon as that door
opens, you’ll see.” Icon nodded at the door.
“You work at least, she is just some rich bitch who inherited a fortune from
her dead father and has never had a job in her life!” Peter was now wiping the
beer off his shirt front and slacks.
“And she hates that job I have, because I am always tired when we go on patrol!
You watch Flare will replace me and I’ll be back at my parents garage again,
back to being a second stringer.” Icon moaned and threw himself into a large
white chair, which creaked under his enormous weight of muscle.
“You are worrying about nothing! Flare will never replace you. You are the Icon,
one of the strongest men on earth! Damn near invulnerable to physical attacks!
What has Flare got?” Peter went and tossed the empty beer can into the trash
under the sink and fetched himself another can out of the refrigerator. He
tossed it behind his back and missed the catch.
“Well, she can fly like Hottie, so Hottie won’t have to constantly wait for her
to catch up like she has to do for me. She can shoot bolts of energy out of her
eyes, and cause things to burst into dust with a shriek of her voice, and she
is smart like Hottie, and is a well known super heroine like her, and-”
“Yeah, you’re toast.” Peter popped the top on the fresh beer.
“Gee, thanks. You are some agent.” Icon mumbled as he sunk his enormous square
jaw into his ham sized fists.
“I do what I can. Say… who is Flare’s agent?” Peter failed to notice the
foaming beer spilling onto the carpet at his paten leather feet.
“Then you don’t mind?” Flare smiled weakly.
“Mind! I insist that you come and stay with me! It will be just like old times
again!” Hottie smiled and hugged Flare to her, as they sat on the edge of her
large bed. “To be honest I never understood what you saw in that Magellan!”
“A thirty inch pecker. But you are right all men are jerks! I can’t believe I
actually married one!” They both laughed.
“It dose get so tiresome reminding them of their place of worship at our feet!”
Hottie giggled and sighed.
“And finding one who is even competent in bed is damn near impossible!” Flare
put her small hand on the back of Hottie’s head of flame red coils of hair and
guided Hottie’s mouth off her nipple and down into the moist valley of her
sodden crotch, “OH! Just like old times, yesssssssss!”
“Well?” Icon whispered.
“I don’t hear anything. Just a lot of heavy breathing.” Peter and Icon pulled
their heads away from the heavy white bed room door. “Maybe they are having one
of those woman crying sessions?”
“Regardless, this undoubtedly doesn’t bode well for me. They have been alone in
there for hours now!”
“Shush! I think I hear them coming!” Peter and Icon slammed into one another as
they raced away from the door and took up positions in the nearest chair; Icon
looking over Peter’s shoulder as he in turn read a magazine, which neither
noticed was an issue of Hottie’s Feminist Quarterly.
The door opened and both girls stepped out wearing club wear. “Flare and I are
going out to the clubs, don’t wait up. Oh, she will be staying with us. You
won’t mind her taking your room and you sleeping on the couch will you. Good,
Night-night.” Hottie wiggled her fingers over her shoulder as Flare blew both
boys a kiss as they closed the hallway door behind them.
“Yes! I’m still in!” cried a relieved Icon, as Peter Small frowned with wide
mouth. As Icon did his dance of joy, the elevator dinged in the hallway beyond
the closed apartment’s front door and Peter shook his head and tossed the
magazine aside to go get another beer.
“I’m not sure I understand.” Flare had her arms crossed over her enormous
breasts and was scowling at Peter Small as he poured out the champagne into the
two tall flute glasses on the candle lit table between them.
“It’s simple really, all I am saying is that being a super heroine is a full
time job, it doesn’t leave much room for public relations or press conferences
or haggling with lawyers, you know all the ugly pettily boring trite that just
sticks like mud to everything! “
“And you are saying that, that is were you come in?” Flare was still growling
at the smarmy little man, but she let him guide her into her chair and accepted
the full glass he offered her.
“Absolutely. I have no interest in bringing up freshly healed wounds, but when
you were with the Justice Knights, all of that sort of stuff had been taken
care of for you, and if you don’t want to have your new found freedom suddenly
look like a major mistake, you will need some talented help running your new
career.”
“And this is your idea of managing my new career?” Flare looked down at the
t-shirt Peter had convinced her to put on. It read in sweeping letters; “Do It
With Flare!”
“Just part of an overall marketing campaign that will soon sweep the country
and then the world! Imagine Flare dolls and posters and magazine covers and -”
“I don’t know about this?” Flare pouted in her frown. “If it hadn’t been for all
the unpacking I had to do, I would have been out on patrol with Hottie right
now.”
“How fortuities for you that you were not and that I caught you at home this
evening, for I was on my way to re-negotiate a small matter with the Abandon, a
former team mate of yours if I remember correctly and a friend of Icon’s and I
had thought to invite him along for some old time sake drinks in order to help
us celebrate the new contract.” He raised the champagne bottle as a means of
elaboration.
“You represent Abandon?” Flare’s eyes widened in awe.
“I am not at liberty to discus my clients identities of course, I’m afraid your
friendship with my dear sweet Hottie made me drop my usual ridged guard in such
maters. You understand of course?” He refilled her glass.
“Of course…” She slowly whispered into her glass and then downed it in a single
swig, lost in perplexed thought.
Peter raised his eyebrows and refilled her glass again. “One needs to think
about one’s immediate necessity as well as one’s future. To be frank, you are
out of a job. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but your annual stipend as a Justice
Knight now gone, you must think of your own finances and the powerful freedom
of independent security. It would be most dreadful to find yourself crawling
back to those laughing snickering behind your back Justice assholes, for a few
crumbs when you could readily earn a hundreds times what the whole sorry lot of
them is worth in a few months.” He re-filled her glass yet again as she held it
out to him.
“Do you really think I could earn that much?” Flare emptied another glass, her
wide eyes becoming glassy, she had never been able to hold her alcohol well.
“Why, you were the poster child of the bunch! Your pucker posted on every
t-shirt and video game cover, how many millions did they make off of you while
tossing you a few peanuts to shell?” Flare now nodded furiously, as Peter
poured the last of the bottle into her weaving glass thrust demandingly in his
face.
“You are right! Those bastards pimped my ass!” She downed another glass.
In frustration Peter glanced around and then poured his own untouched glass
into hers. “And what a sweet ass it is too!” Peter purred. “So, if you will
just sign this contract here!” He wiped out a paper from inside his jacket and
thrust a pen into her hands. He had to guide her hand a bit but the signature
looked good enough for him, if not quiet up to a judges discretion! But he felt
he knew his new clients pride and felt that she would never admit that she had
been drunk let alone so drunk as to be bamboozled into anything against her
stubborn will.
He kissed the contract and folded it up and slipped it back into his jacket
pocket as Flare slumped into her chair and fell to the floor passed out!
Peter Small winced giving out a sharp cry and leapt to help his new found cash
cow, but found in the struggle with the large rather surprisingly heavy slim
amazon that he only managed to tangle himself amidst her sprawled limbs. He
kept trying to get her back to her chair or even to the near by white sofa only
to inadvertently pull off the t-shirt he had convinced her to put on over her
own crop top. The crop top slid up with the t-shirts removal and it exposed the
young woman’s phenomenal firm full F cup breasts. Her perfect nipples were hard
upon her puffy areolas and Peter found himself whimpering at the sight of them.
“Well… there is the mater of my fee, dear.” Very carefully Peter slid the
uncurious super heroine onto her side and pulled down her sweat pants. She
wasn’t wearing any panties and he nearly bit through his tongue in excitement.
He fished around in his slacks and pulled out his tinny twelve inch pecker and
rubbed it against the almost impossibly spherical soft ass cheeks. He rubbed
the head of his engorged cock against the bumble bee scratchy tickly fuzz of
Flare’s once shaved smooth pussy now stubble patched with several weeks
re-growth, but was wise enough in the ways of super heroine’s not to venture to
risk placing his cock into a tender meat vice that upon her unconscious orgasm
might squeeze into a rapture that would crush his poor cock into a useless
permanent pulp! No, instead he slipped his purple throbbing member into her
tight ass hole which welcomed him with soft pulsing throbs.
Super heroines were by and large subjected to a heightened state of constant
sexual arousal brought on by both their increased sensual awareness sensitivity
almost matching their other supernatural abilities and their overtly equally
amply endowed sexual lust and desire super humane in proportional scope as
well! Peter was not much amazed then as low and steady wet moans issued from
the unconscious heroine as he pumped steadily into her seething shaking ass!
Hottie placed the ice pack gently on Flare’s forehead as she lay moaning on the
sofa. “Better hun?” Hottie brushed some stray locks out of the hung over super
heroine’s face.
“Thanks, luv.” And she puckered up for a kiss which Hottie bent over and warmly
bestowed upon her waiting lips. “But I tell you one thing.” Flare paused as she
struggled up wincing upon her heating pad.
“What’s that darling?” Hottie looked up as she removed the empty juice glass
from the glass living room table beside the white sofa.
“I will never drink champagne again! It makes my ass hole hurt!” Flare rubbed
her buttocks tenderly and turned up the heating pad. Both girls laughed! And
Hottie kissed her sweaty forehead and wiggled into the kitchen with the empty
juice glass, shaking her head and smiling.