by Logan Jacobs
It was a sloppy kiss, we kept disconnecting and biting each other’s mouths harder than we’d intended or jabbing each other with the tips of our noses, because both of our attentions were focused lower down as Dynamo grinded herself furiously against my erection. Her legs were spread in a kneeling position across my lap, which spread her entrance open, and sometimes the head of my cock slipped in, but the whole thing wouldn’t fit inside without being forced into place by hand. We were only looking at each other’s faces to enjoy the expressions of almost painful arousal and it became a sort of game to blindly try to fit our bodies together, but eventually Dynamo hissed between her teeth,
“I give up,” and reached down to wedge the first few inches of my cock inside of her.
We both gasped with pleasure, and she started wiggling her hips to work her way down my shaft while I grabbed her ass to pull her down until I was all the way inside of her.
Then we both groaned when I was all the way in.
At first she rocked slowly and gently back and forth with her nails clawing into my back as we both enjoyed the deep penetration. Then she sat more upright, moved her hands to my shoulders to brace herself, and started bouncing ecstatically up and down. When her movements became more aggressive, I could feel my cock hit the end of her tunnel.
“Oh, fuck, that’s so good,” she groaned.
Then Norma’s cheery voice from the front door rang out, “See you guys later!”
We froze, with the blood pounding through our bodies, but especially at the point where they were joined.
Then we yelled in unison, “See you later!”
We heard the front door open and close.
We laughed, and then we really let loose because we knew there weren’t any other humans around to hear us anymore. Elizabeth started riding me even harder, and I could tell from the sound of her yelps that she was nearing a climax. I lowered my head and bit one of her nipples, and she stopped and arched her back as her walls spasmed around my cock. She slumped against my chest, panting, and I let her ride out the climax for another ten seconds. Then I lifted her off me, got up, flung her over the arm of the couch with her ass in the air, and hammered into her from behind until my own climax threatened.
“I’m going to cum,” I hissed to her as I tried in vain to slow it.
“Yessss,” she hissed as I felt her walls clench around me for the fourth time. “Fill me up, Miles.”
I groaned as my release came, and her tunnel clamped around me as my cum sprayed deep inside of the most perfect woman I’d ever made love to. Both of our orgasms were incredibly intense, and it took almost an entire minute for us to come down from the experience. Then I pulled out of her dripping pussy, and we moved to cuddle on the couch.
I woke up again when I felt Elizabeth stir beside me, and I felt the cushions rise as her weight was lifted off them. I opened my eyes to see her slide onto the floor. Then, while maintaining eye contact with me and smiling mischievously, she crawled in front of me and knelt between my legs. My cock was slack, but it perked right up again immediately under the attentions of her exploratory tongue. I scooted to the edge of the sofa to give her full access, and she delicately bathed every inch of my cock like a cat grooming its paws. Then when the whole surface was wet with her spit, she opened her mouth to take as much of it that would fit to the back of her throat, gripped the base with her hand, and started sliding it in and out in a coordinated motion.
The sight of this amazingly powerful and beautiful woman worshiping my cock while on her knees soon sent me over the edge, and as I came violently into her mouth, her eyes widened with triumph. After the last spurt was released down her throat, she swallowed and cleaned the last drips from my shaft with her tongue. Then she latched her hands together over the top of my knee and laid her head against it like a pillow and closed her turquoise eyes. I reached down and pulled her back up onto the couch with me. Then we fell into a real sleep.
“Norma’s car is returning,” Aileen’s announcement woke us. We looked up to see her standing in the door.
“Oh, fuck, thanks for the warning,” I groaned as we started drowsily pulling our clothes back on. “How long were we asleep for?”
“Four hours, forty-eight minutes, and nineteen seconds,” Aileen replied.
“How do you know that?” Elizabeth demanded. “We’re not in the smartbed, and my watch is from The Wardens, you shouldn’t have access to the readings… ”
“It’s easier if you just stop worrying about how she knows things,” I advised.
Elizabeth sighed and yawned.
“Once Norma comes in, I have an announcement that I think you will all be pleased to hear,” Aileen stated.
“Is she coming in now?” I asked with a yawn of my own. That was a human expression that I probably wouldn’t teach Aileen, a robot yawning would look a bit terrifying.
“No, she is attempting to buzz the delivery truck in,” Aileen answered. “Shall I grant it access remotely?”
“Uh… delivery truck?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, shall I grant it access?” Aileen repeated.
I nodded and glanced over at Dynamo, who shrugged.
“Well, you didn’t assign her a budget or anything,” the curvaceous superhero pointed out as we both got dressed.
A few minutes later Norma burst in the door yelling, “Hi guys, meet Mikey and Ivan!”
“Pets?” I mouthed to Elizabeth with concern. She raised an eyebrow and shrugged again.
But the two creatures that followed Norma into the living room where we were waiting turned out to be two burly yet potbellied men in stained wifebeaters and ill-fitting jeans who were struggling to maneuver a large, cumbersome, cream-colored couch between them. Without an explicit verbal explanation, I had to assume based on context that we were keeping the couch, but not the men.
When the men trailed back outside after Norma, presumably to fetch some other article of furniture, Dynamo turned to me to ask, “Should I go help them? They looked like they might break something. Either inanimate, or anatomical.”
“Nah,” I said. “If they saw the way you move furniture, it’d probably scare them. At the least it would make them feel insecure.”
“Speaking of moving furniture… ” Elizabeth said as she crouched down to examine the deep grooves from the bottom of the sofa that we appeared to have carved into the floor about five hours ago.
“Guess we’ll have to replace the floor too,” I said with a shrug.
“Will we even have any time left for fighting supervillains, with all these interior decorating plans?” my lover teased.
“Yup,” I said. “We’ll just put Norma in charge of the interior decorating, since she seems so excited about it, and that will leave you and I more time for… scratching the floor up.”
“Well that’s an idiom I haven’t heard for it before,” Dynamo said. “Speaking of idioms, where did Aileen go? Wasn’t she going to tell us something?”
“I’m in here,” my AI assistant’s seductive voice purred from the closet. “You instructed me not to allow strangers to see me, Creator, and I do not know anyone by the names Mikey or Ivan.”
“So, the room is bugged,” Dynamo said with a giggle.
“Assume it always is,” I replied. “But it’s a friendly bug. With a banging body.”
Mikey and Ivan came waddling back into the room this time clutching leather armchairs. Norma’s sense of style was unfortunately rather questionable at best most of the time, but I actually quite liked the armchairs.
“Why don’t you put them by the fireplace,” I instructed the movers.
Once the armchairs were in place, it made a cozy little scene. I could picture reading a newspaper there and having a little dog carry me my slippers in its mouth, if I had lived two generations ago, and been a comic strip character.
Mikey and Ivan made a total of eleven more trips in and out from the truck while Norma excitedly bounced around them and carried in som
e smaller items like lamps and curtains.
“Norma, how did you even buy all this stuff in just a few hours?” I asked her in bewilderment as it piled up around us and threatened to block the exits.
“Oh, I hired some personal shoppers to help me out,” she explained. “Interior design is a science, Miles. And I’m only average at it. So I needed to consult with some experts.”
“I see,” I said. I wondered how many stores she’d gone to and whether these so-called experts had actually studied interior design, or if they were just random salespeople operating on commission. Because from my perspective, it looked more like Norma had just plundered an entire furniture warehouse, as opposed to being in the process of implementing a cohesive design scheme. Not that it really mattered. I’d just have to make a mental note not to let her get any ideas about redecorating my real house back in Pinnacle City.
Once the delivery truck had been emptied of its goods, we tipped Mikey and Ivan generously, and they thanked us while looking at us like we were crazy people, which by objective standards we probably were, and then left.
At that point Aileen emerged from the closet in all her silvery glory, right behind Norma, who was lovingly stroking the fringe on a new lampshade.
“Now I will share the wonderful news with you,” Aileen announced.
Norma jumped about two feet in the air and her mouth formed a perfect O shape.
“One of your employees has discovered a probable way to reverse the effects of Mayhem’s brain implants,” Aileen continued.
“That’s excellent,” I exclaimed. “How?”
“He fried it using the Gamma Knife technique,” she answered. “It was not effective at first at the standard dose rate, but by experimenting with the age of the cobalt and the number of beams he was able to find a combination that caused the microchip to stop transmitting a signal. Of course, the experiment has not yet been tried on a living patient, but based on preliminary evidence the laboratory sees no reason why the same method would not be effective.”
“… Gamma Knife?” Elizabeth repeated and wrinkled her sharp little nose in confusion.
“It’s a form of stereotactic radiosurgery,” Norma explained. Of course she knew everything necessary to practice as an average neurosurgeon or neuroradiologist, but did not have the licenses or certifications to do so given that she had never even attended medical school.
“… ‘Knife’ made more sense than stereo tactics,” Elizabeth said.
“Knife is sort of a metaphor,” Norma said.
“Well, I guess it doesn’t matter to me as long as it works,” my girlfriend said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“The researcher believed that a living brain would resume normal function once this process had been performed to deactivate the microchip?” I asked Aileen.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “That is the team’s prediction.”
“Then, obtain a comprehensive report of their findings and forward it anonymously to all the major hospitals in Grayville,” I instructed her. “I don’t know who is currently treating Mayhem’s victims, or if they have been divided between multiple locations, but if all the medical authorities are notified, then hopefully someone will act on it.”
“I will do that now,” Aileen promised.
After that, she and I settled down on the sofa to hash out an inventory of the essential equipment from The Cellar that I would need to transport or duplicate in order to continue my weapons engineering work in Grayville particularly as it pertained to enhancing the team’s supervillain fighting capabilities. The only person who knew the contents of The Cellar better than I did wasn’t a person, it was the AI entity that was my best invention yet.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth went off to a local gym for a workout session, since the family who had owned our new house hadn’t installed a home gym. After Aileen and I finished our plans to recreate a basic version of The Cellar in the basement, we moved on to plans to construct a home gym and stock it with both the machines that I liked to use and the machines that Elizabeth liked to use. The turquoise-eyed brunette had also asked me to create specialized free weights for her, since she had never found a barbell that wouldn’t break when she loaded it with enough plates to challenge herself.
Norma, meanwhile, busily started arranging all the new furniture and home goods that she had just purchased. She needed help to move some of the heavier items, so eventually Aileen sent her body over to assist Norma manually while she remained in communication with me through my phone and laptop. Some of the stuff that Norma had bought, or that I had bought technically, was nice, and some of it was tacky, which was to be expected. Her aesthetic was rather eclectic and indiscriminate. But all in all, I didn’t mind. Being surrounded by the original homeowner family’s stuff reminded me that we were staying in a rental. Being surrounded by the material expressions of Norma’s mostly conventional, yet paradoxically unique, personality made the house feel like a home.
By the time Elizabeth returned from the gym and went straight to the kitchen to chug down a protein shake, the Levinsons’ family photos and their Shadow Knight merchandise had all been packed away, their faded blue striped curtains had been replaced by ugly expensive new ruffled ones, and their floral and sheepskin rugs had been replaced by a geometric pattern and giraffe print ones. I also noticed some huge empty picture frames hanging in the hallway, three of them.
“What are these for?” I asked Norma.
“Oh,” she said, “I was going to have your Times cover printed and put that in the middle, and then have one of Dynamo’s Warden glamor shots there, and uh… me on the other side. I mean not that anyone really takes photos of me. Not like how they take photos of you two all the time, since you’re both unfairly good-looking, besides being famous and all. But maybe I could use my graduation photo from college?”
“A family photo collage,” I smiled at her. “I like the idea. But don’t use my Times cover, they wanted me to look pensive and brooding, and I think I just ended up looking like a zombie. Use the GQ one from this year, I liked that one. And for Dynamo, it doesn’t matter if it’s a Warden sponsored photoshoot, but make sure you choose an image where she’s wearing something other than that red suit. Something neutral and classy. And for you? I recall seeing a few paparazzi photos of you from the C.D.S. launch gala that turned out gorgeous. Use one of those. Or one of the photos that Dynamo took of you when we went to the opera.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll do that,” Norma brightened up at my words. “Uh, just one other thing. I did want to include Aileen, but I know that you want to keep her secret and all, and if we invite anyone in the house and they saw her photo, I thought they might ask awkward questions? What do you think? I don’t want to make her feel bad.”
“I do not experience emotions,” Aileen reminded her matter-of-factly as she entered the hallway. “Conceiving of me as part of your quasi familial arrangement is an anthropomorphic fallacy. But, your compulsion to do so is a testament to Miles’ skill in crafting the façade of human attributes.”
“She says thanks, but no thanks,” I translated for Norma.
“Okay, got it,” Norma said. “I’ll just do the three of us then.”
And she moved off to settle down with a laptop and start browsing through photo options.
Upstairs, I heard the sound of running water start and suddenly felt a keen desire for a shower in the one tub out of the house’s eight that was currently occupied.
Aileen studied the direction of my gaze and my expression as if she could read my thoughts and said, “I will complete the blueprints for the new home gym myself, Creator.”
I nodded and went upstairs to join Elizabeth.
A blissful hour later, the women and I reunited on the porch, and Aileen carried out glasses and a bottle of champagne for us along with cigars and a lighter.
“To celebrate the destruction of a posse of supervillains, and the impending restoration of full brain function to Mayhem’s surviving victims,” she
explained.
“Well, that’s a good reason to drink and smoke,” I said, “but then again, so is this sunset.”
“I’ve never smoked a cigar,” Norma said.
I lit hers for her. She inhaled cautiously, held it, exhaled slowly, and predictably started coughing, while Dynamo sipped her champagne and politely tried not to smile.
“So, what’s next?” Norma asked through her coughs.
“We compile a list of all the known supervillains in Grayville,” I said. “And we start crossing off names.”
“How many did you say there are, Aileen?” Norma asked.
“I didn’t, but most estimates suggest somewhere in the neighborhood of three-hundred and fifty,” Aileen answered.
“Uh… do we have to cross off all the names?” Norma asked anxiously as she looked over at me. “Because that might take us a while. I mean, I don’t think Grayville is as bad as everyone keeps saying, but… ”
“First of all, we don’t have to cross them off one by one,” I said. “They usually work together. Even Mayhem, who was small fry compared to someone like the Maniac or even his former employer the Gray Ghost, had about six or seven other supers hiding out in Munchkinville with him. But more importantly, my hope is that it won’t be just us.”
“You mean you want to expand the team?” Dynamo asked. “We haven’t met any other supers here yet, though. Besides the Shadow Knight, anyway. And I don’t think our chances of recruiting him look too hot at this point.”
“No, I’m thinking bigger than that,” I said. “I’m thinking of Etta King.”
“Etta King?” Dynamo asked doubtfully. “I mean, she seemed like she might be cool to hang out with. A little eccentric maybe, but entertaining. But I don’t know how useful she’d be at actually killing supervillains. I feel like she’d be more likely to sit in the corner eating popcorn during a fight and then rate our performance on a scale of one to ten with a few snarky comments thrown in for good measure.”
“I don’t mean I want to recruit her,” I said. “I mean that her vlog post on Mayhem’s killers and how we did the right thing is a symptom of a societal paradigm shift. I mean that if even some random pop culture commentator chick who isn’t a super and isn’t involved with law enforcement at all can grasp why we’re doing what we’re doing, and feel passionately that it’s justified, there will be others who come around to our way of thinking too. And hopefully, eventually, some of those converts will be the people best qualified to do something about it. Superheroes.”
