DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters. They are the property of DC comics and the WB network. I'm just borrowing them for a short period of time.
MUSIC DISCLAIMER: Song lyrics don't belong to me either; no profit gained or infringement intended.
ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: I've made several references to a baddie (Crimson Claw) from another work of fanfiction -- The most-excellent "Feral" by Barb/Pink Rabbit Productions. No infringement intended; rather, consider it an homage to a breath-taking work of fanfic (and another plea that Feral be completed??).
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Way We Were
Helena was stunned. Or dreaming. Yeah, maybe she was dreaming.
It wasn't just Barbara's none-too-subtle innuendo about her PT and the ensuing, er, activities on the couch -- especially after everything Helena had revealed. There was also *this* request. Barbara, Ms. Too-independent-for-her-own-good, the woman who wouldn't accept an umbrella in a downpour 'cuz she was pissed that she hadn't known it was going to rain, Barbara...asking for a lift? Cool. Lifting the redhead into her arms effortlessly, Helena pressed her mouth to Barbara's, kissing her deeply.
By the time they reached the bedroom, the brunette feared that her legs would buckle at any moment, meta-human strength not-withstanding. She stood by the bed for a moment, intensely aware of Barbara's arm wrapped around her neck, the slight weight and the warmth of the woman in her arms. Slowly, carefully, she placed the older woman on the bed, helping her stack some pillows behind her back. Dry-mouthed, she watched the redhead release her hair from its loose ponytail and fan it around her.
Her heart. Her fucking heart was beating so hard...
Looking at those deep green eyes -- really just dark hungry pupils surrounded by a thin band of emerald, at those red, red lips -- slightly kiss-bruised, at that flowing crimson hair, at that long body settled on the bed like an offering, Helena felt her eyes augmenting, felt the growl start to rumble in her throat. Muscles rippled as she prepared for her approach, ready to pounce: she'd rend the fabric of the redhead's clothes with teeth and nails; she'd lick and suck at that creamy skin as she rubbed her own aching center against the other woman.
No. Not like that. The younger woman tore her eyes away from Barbara, breathing hard and fast. Barbara deserved more than that.
A moment later, Helena flashed a cocky grin at the redhead and murmured, "Be right back." She caught the confused and slightly flustered look -- Okay, Red had looked kind of pissed off -- on her way out the door. But, well, this was something she had to do.
The brunette trotted down the short hall to the living area where she snagged two bottles of water and then grabbed the older woman's chair. No way she was going to have Barbara that far from her chair. A minute later she returned to the bedroom, casually pulling the chair behind her. Handing Barbara one of the water bottles, the young woman positioned the chair within easy reach of the bed, aware of the soft smile being directed her way.
Alright-then. That got the housekeeping out of the way. Now what?
The brunette was faintly aghast; here she was, finally where she'd dreamed of for... forever, and she had a case of butterflies like she couldn't believe. Watching the older woman take a small sip of water before replacing the cap and putting the bottle on the side table, Helena decided to play it cool.
After all, it wasn't like she hadn't done this before, Helena thought with a smirk as she moved slowly towards the bed, a death-grip on her water bottle.
The brunette froze in her tracks.
She *hadn't* done this before. Yeah, there'd been sex -- lots of sex; but, wow, when it came to making love with the woman she adored... This was gonna be brand new territory.
Regaining some control of her muscles, the young woman looked over to find Barbara wrinkling her eyebrows just a little, those expressive eyes amused and puzzled, her expression the one the older woman got when she realized that Helena was behaving strangely and that there wasn't a chance in hell of understanding what was going on. Helena loved that expression.
"Are you alright, Hel?" The voice was a little huskier than normal, but still warm and inviting.
"Yeah, just..." the younger woman fluttered a hand, "...you know...". Well, that had been clear.
There was a pause. Barbara was thinking. Helena wasn't sure that she wanted Barbara to be thinking. Finally, those intense green eyes looked up, nothing but bright love shining in them.
"We don't have to do anything that..." Helena caught the briefest of hesitations, "you're not ready for. Nothing is going to happen that you don't want, Helena."
The younger woman didn't know how she felt about that, didn't know why she felt like she wanted to cry...just a little. She decided to go for confident and sexy.
"What about what I do want?" Okay, it had come out a little less confident than she'd hoped. Still, Barbara didn't seem to notice or care. Her reply rocked the brunette to her core.
"Anything, Hel. Absolutely anything you want."
Feeling a little like she'd just been sucker-punched in a fight, Helena slowly unlocked her grip on the water, placed the bottle neatly next to the other, then sat on the edge of the bed. She was facing the redhead, her hip barely touching the other woman's thigh.
'How could Barbara's leg be so hot? Was she sick? She didn't look sick, but she sure had been acting...out of character.'
The brunette reached down for Barbara's right hand, bringing it to her lips. Blue eyes firmly locked on green, she breathed, "I love you, Barbara."
The shining love in those green eyes took her breath away; the hungry aching want, a clear mirror to her own, nearly undid her.
Helena lowered her head a fraction, touching the elegant fingers with her mouth and lips. She slowly kissed each finger tip, flicking her tongue out to trace the faint calluses from years of typing. Breathing across the sharply delineated knuckles, she gently kissed the back of Barbara's hand before turning it palm side up and cradling it in hers. Again, she lowered her head, pressing a reverent soul kiss to the palm, tongue flickering out to tease the depression in the slightly cupped palm, mouth firmly pressed to the soft flesh to create a gentle suction. The dark woman heard the other woman panting softly -- "Oh god... Hel... please... please" -- and wondered if Barbara was even aware that she was speaking.
The redhead's voice, the taste of her, it was all driving Helena wild. Still, she kept her movements slow, deliberate, languid.
Barbara's fingers were trembling in the younger woman's hand. 'Wonder if she'll like this...' Helena broke her kiss to the redhead's palm and gently pressed the trembling fingers together. Blue eyes peered from under shaggy bangs, noticing the dusky rose flush creeping up the redhead's neck; 'Not a bad color for her at all', the younger woman decided as she began to run her tongue between each of the fingers, thrusting suggestively, firmly, before gentling to teasing strokes.
Yeah, Barbara seemed to like that; she really seemed to like that. The redhead's left hand was tangled in the comforter, clutching tightly; her breath was coming hard and fast; her eyes were absolutely wide, unblinking. And, truth-be-told, Helena was feeling pretty good, too; apart from the other things her actions were suggesting -- things she craved with desperate intensity, the opportunity to touch and taste the adored woman so freely left her lightheaded and shaky.
Drawing in a slow breath, the young woman encircled Barbara's index and second finger with her own hand; waited until green eyes locked with hers; slowly pulled the two digits fully into her mouth, massaging them with her tongue and sucking them rhythmically, deeply. 'Oh, fuck....!' The redhead's fingers were so deep in her mouth; Helena felt parts of her lower body contracting every time she sucked at those long fingers; she shifted her hips restlessly. The brunette groaned as Barbara gently extricated her hand, caressing the side of her face for a moment, smiling beatifically.
Man, that had been all kinds of fun. Over her shallow panting, the brunette managed to gasp, "You're so fuckin' beautiful."
Immediately, the young woman wanted to smack herself in the forehead. Finally, she was touching, kissing the woman she'd fantasized about, loved, for her entire adult life -- not to mention a good portion of her teenage years -- and *that* was the best she could come up with? Smooth, really smooth.
Still holding the other woman's hand, Helena ducked her head in embarrassment. She stared at the bedspread for a long minute until that warm voice broke the silence.
"It's nothing. I, just, want to say the right thing, things. And, well, I'm not so much with the eloquence thing right now."
Barbara's laugh was bright and full.
"Sweetheart, you don't need to be. I'm a sure thing."
Suspicious blue eyes peered into amused green. Had *Barbara* said that? Now she knew she was dreaming.
The older woman's expression turned a bit more serious.
"Besides, I think you're doing just fine in letting me know what you're feeling."
Boy, somehow, Barbara always knew how to say the right thing.
Helena moved onto the bed, straddling the older woman. The brunette felt herself shift, knew her eyes were now their feral yellow. Bringing her mouth to the side of the redhead's face, she permitted a soft growl before tracing the delicate shell of Barbara's ear with her tongue. The feel of the older woman shifting under her, of long hands moving haphazardly down her thighs and up her sides inflamed Helena.
Then, Barbara's hands were no longer touching her; she had moved her hands between them. She was doing something, but not doing it to her. Helena wanted Barbara to be doing something to her. Peering between them, she found Barbara frantically, feverishly, attempting to unbutton the oversized oxford shirt that she was wearing, her normally graceful fingers clumsy in her eagerness.
This time, there was nothing soft about the growl. Those beautiful hands faltered for a moment at the sound. Helena tightly shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. She wouldn't do that, wouldn't just be a fuckin' animal. 'Just breathe in, breathe out.'
But, she couldn't, not with Barbara tugging on both of her hands, bringing them to her face, kissing them. Not when Barbara was moving her hands down and placing them softly against the other woman's breasts. Barbara's relieved moan electrified the young woman; she dipped her hips, briefly raking across the redhead's abdomen before drawing in a deep breath.
Eyes once again blue stared into wide emerald, recognized the aching need. Helena smiled gently and leaned down to press a soft kiss against Barbara's parted lips. Then, Barbara was fumbling with those damned buttons again and she heard the low voice:
"Hel, please. I need to feel you... on my skin....."
The brunette smiled again, slow and sultry this time. Yeah, she could definitely deal with that. She lightly drew her hands across the older woman's breasts and stilled the redhead's hands with hers. Helena briefly looked up through dark lashes and drawled, "Can I be of any assistance with that, Ms. Gordon?"
"If it wouldn't be too much tro..."
The sound of thread ripping and buttons pinging off walls and furniture cut off whatever else Barbara might have added. Sometimes she talked too much anyway, Helena smirked. Shifting backwards slightly, the brunette gently pulled the older woman upright, supporting her easily with one arm as she helped her shrug out of the shirt. The redhead's breasts were milky-white and full; the tips blush rose, visibly firming under the younger woman's burning gaze. Helena's mouth watered.
Even as the brunette helped the other woman settle back against her mountain of pillows, she felt hands plucking at her tee-shirt, attempting to move it up, to pull it off. Not now; sooo not now. Helena brushed distractedly at those questing hands, whispered something -- Had she said 'Later'? -- before bringing her own hands to Barbara's stomach, fingers lightly stroking the soft skin, tracing the firm muscles. The redhead's arousal was palpable: the muscles under the soft skin were fluttering and twitching. Something low inside Helena clenched in sympathy.
Soft. Barbara's skin was so terribly, terribly soft; silken. Helena couldn't get enough of the feel of it, stroking her fingers up Barbara's side, dragging her palms across her stomach, brushing her hands across the other woman's upper chest and shoulders. Constantly moving, stroking, her hands burned from the contact. Wondering how Barbara would react, Helena gently raked blunted nails teasingly down the redhead's chest, in the valley between those ripe, full breasts. Helena heard the other woman hiss, felt her jerk. She couldn't, wouldn't, wait any longer.
"So beautiful. So fuckin' beautiful." Helena knew she'd said something but didn't know what. She rested her hands gently on Barbara's breasts, cupping the sides, experiencing the weight and texture. Pebble-hard nipples teased her palms. Helena closed her eyes briefly, focusing with everything she was on the sensations rippling through her hands. Her focus broke when Barbara arched her back, then brought her hands up and placed them decisively over Helena's, urging the younger woman to touch more firmly.
Another bolt of arousal shot through the dark woman; for a moment, she dropped her head, taking most of her weight on her hands, pressing firmly against those soft mounds as she panted and drove her hips forward against the redhead's belly.
Hands tangled in her hair -- Cripes, Barbara was strong -- pulling her head down; a low voice urged, "Your mouth, Hel... God, your mouth." The brunette allowed the older woman to direct her, stealing a lick against the woman's jaw, a quick nip at her neck. Blue eyes glanced up briefly, drinking in the sight of Barbara restlessly moving her head from side to side, breath blowing hard and fast from her nose. Then, then, she was tasting the older woman, and it was better than Helena had dreamed of for so many years.
She bathed the milky white skin with her tongue, pressed melting kisses to the heavy flesh, drew teasing teeth up the sides. The redhead's whimper destroyed her resolve to move slowly: Helena drew the turgid nipple into her mouth, sucking hard while teasing at it with her tongue. She nipped gently, then laved the spot. Had the redhead just hissed 'Yes'? Determined to find out, the young woman repeated her ministrations. Definitely a 'yes'.
With one hand still stroking and teasing Barbara's right breast, Helena lost herself in the other. She was distantly aware of the purring rumble from her chest as she suckled for long slow minutes, distantly aware of the other woman's deep breaths and slow undulations, distantly aware of a strong hand in her hair scratching randomly at her scalp. But the only thing Helena Kyle was truly aware of was the taste and texture and warmth against her face, in her mouth; of the arousal coursing through her veins and nerves.
Long minutes, hours?, later, the brunette slowly raised her head, smiling softly at the redhead's whimpered protest, at the strength of those arms trying to keep her from moving.
"Hey, it's ok," the brunette soothed, shifting her mouth to the other breast. There, she lost herself again. She licked and sucked, nipped and soothed, her right hand moving restlessly over the redhead. She skimmed the woman's smooth arms, briefly tangling her fingers with Barbara's; she stroked the other woman's shoulder, slid her hand under Barbara's back to rub gently; she tangled her fingers in that long red hair, gradually cupping the other woman's jaw.
The redhead had turned her head to take Helena's thumb into her mouth; she was sucking and rasping her teeth along the digit. The young woman's head shot up.
The look she received was absolutely wanton; the words she heard, improbably, more-so.
"Skin. Now." Looked like the redhead wasn't so much with eloquence right now either.
Looked like she was also in a hurry about the skin thing. Helena watched Barbara pull herself slightly more upright, watched her grab the hem of Helena's tee with both hands. While the younger woman detected a twinkle in those emerald eyes, the low voice was utterly serious.
"I am fond of this shirt, Hel, but I promise you that if you don't help me get it off now, I will rip it off you."
O-kay.... A little demanding, maybe. The brunette smiled. Broadly. She liked demanding from Barbara.
Helena raised her arms, and the redhead tugged the tee over her head. The older woman's sharp gasp of appreciation and her hungry gaze roving over the brunette's chest sent tremors through the younger woman. As Barbara's hands came to rest on her bare shoulders and the redhead began to lean forward, Helena remembered that there was a helluva lot of other skin waiting to be uncovered.
"Hold that thought, Red."
Shifting to one side, she smiled winsomely through her lashes even as she hooked the waist of Barbara's flannel pants and began to tug the material down. In response to the brief flash of ... irritation? frustration? ... in those green eyes, Helena stopped tugging and looked directly at the redhead. She was so close to Barbara's center, the other woman's need so evident to her sensitive nose, that it took the young woman a moment to recognize the panic in green eyes.
Having lived and worked intimately with Barbara since the shooting, having witnessed the redhead's frustrations with her day-to-day limitations, having watched with barely concealed jealously the older woman's stilted and increasingly infrequent attempts at dating, Helena had a pretty good idea what lay behind the panic which was suddenly rolling off the other woman in waves. Still, during those years, the younger woman had continued to hope and dream, never letting herself forget that loving and pleasing the other woman -- much less Barbara allowing herself to be loved -- would not be simple. She'd had lots of time; so she'd done research, plowing through anything she could get her hands on at the library, tracing every possible link on the web. She also had watched the older woman, seen what she could and could not do; figured out where there might be hints of sensation just waiting to be coaxed into response. And, of course, she *knew* Barbara, knew that sharp mind and fiercely loving soul which would need as much, if not more, stimulation than her body would.
No way Helena was going to let a little -- well, judging from Red's face, a helluva lot of -- performance anxiety put a damper on things.
She looked up at the older woman, nodded towards the bunched flannel.
"May I?" Earnest blue eyes locked with frightened green. "I need to see you, touch you everywhere..."
Barbara blew out a long, even breath. Well, she had told Helena 'Anything.'
She nodded once. Slowly.
Swallowing with difficulty, the redhead watched, amazed, as Helena simply seemed to stroke the flannel and her underwear down and off her legs. The brunette paused, balanced on her knees at Barbara's feet, and slowly dragged her eyes up the older woman's legs, past her knees, along her thighs, past her hips. Eyes a shade of gold that Barbara had never seen locked on hers, and that lush upper lip drew upward, exposing sharp white teeth and a decidedly... hungry look.
When she heard Helena speak through a throaty growl, Barbara felt a surge of heat rush through her face, her chest and belly, down her arms to her fingertips.
Still kneeling by the older woman's feet, the dark woman took a deep breath and rocked forward, wrapping her arms around herself for a moment. Barbara heard a purred exhalation as once-again blue eyes peeked up towards green and Helena smiled again, no less hungrily though perhaps a bit less dangerous-looking. The redhead wasn't sure what it said about herself, but she thought she missed the wicked, dangerous smile.
The brunette raked her hands down her own torso -- Barbara swallowed thickly --- and, in a sudden rush, pushed at the thin boxers she was still wearing, seemingly desperate to remove them. Barbara smirked, hearing a soft curse as the brunette wrestled one-handedly to shuck her boxers, even while running a hand up Barbara's legs. And then, confronted with a gloriously nude Helena, Barbara stopped smiling, possibly stopped breathing for a moment.
Over the years they'd been together, especially given the amount of doctoring she'd had to do on a fairly regular basis, Barbara had seen probably every inch of the younger woman. But, well, it certainly hadn't been like this. As green eyes devoured her, Helena sat absolutely motionless by the older woman's feet, her shallow breathing and the minute trembling of tightly torqued muscles bespeaking her excitement.
"C'mere," the redhead breathed. Hmmm, it appeared that she could do some growling of her own.
Barbara watched, transfixed, as the brunette sleekly stretched herself up the length of the redhead's body, mapping the unfeeling flesh of her legs with a gently trembling hand, nose and mouth brushing the skin as she scented the older woman's body. When Helena reached the juncture of Barbara's thighs, she halted her journey and locked still-blue eyes with green.
Barbara held the contact -- Too much; it was too much -- as the brunette brushed her face through the neatly trimmed patch of crimson. Barbara blinked rapidly at the low moan that erupted from the younger woman; my god, how could she be the cause of that unabashed want? The unmistakable sight of those dark hips jerking against her lower legs caused Barbara to emit her own less-voluble moan.
The redhead's hands flew out, fumbling for Helena's shoulders, desperate to feel her. And, then, Helena was on top of her -- face-to-face, breasts-to-breasts, hips-to-hips -- one leg gently insinuated between Barbara's.
'How could she *do* that,' Barbara wondered incongruously, 'suddenly just *be* there?'
Helena smiled and breathed out, "Hi there."
Charmed, and aroused, Barbara dragged the younger woman into a bruising kiss, pulling that lithe body down to rest fully on her own. The older woman experienced a moment of complete sensory overload: breathing stopped; there was no sound; even the room seemed to go dark for a moment. All that she knew, was aware of, was the feel of those lips against hers and the warm softness against her breasts.
When Barbara became aware of herself, of time, again, she felt Helena sucking at her pulse point and kneading one of her breasts. The brunette was purring, stroking herself against the redhead's stomach, as Barbara's hands moved randomly, almost jerkily against her back. Barbara heard sounds, words spilling from her own mouth, as she began to move her upper body increasingly frantically.
"Please... oh god... so good." Had *she* said that, the older woman wondered.
Delighted blue eyes danced into her field of vision just long enough for the redhead to comprehend the soft growl: "Damned straight, Red." The older woman was the recipient of a brief but ardent kiss before Helena ducked back to her chest.
Even as she frantically thrust her breasts up to that teasing mouth, Barbara realized that she honestly had no idea what she was so shamelessly pleading for. Watching Helena rake her hand up the outside of her thigh to clasp her hip, more turned on than she could ever remember, the redhead bitterly recognized that -- save for a faint warmth and tightness in her abdomen -- she could feel nothing, absolutely nothing ... there.
Green eyes squeezed shut in frustration, in anger for what had been denied to her... and to Helena. She was unable to fight off the tension that washed through her and hoped that the younger woman would mistake it for a different sort of tension.
The dark woman was suddenly on her knees between Barbara's calves. Barbara watched her running her hands up and down her legs, wishing that she could respond to that delicate touch and hungry gaze. Then, Helena spoke, eyes a clear blue, voice low and earnest.
"Do you know how long I've wanted this? To touch you everywhere? To look at you everywhere ...like this?" Those amazing eyes briefly flickered gold. "To taste you everywhere?"
The redhead watched, amazed again, as the brunette ran her mouth and tongue up one calf, bestowed an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of the other thigh. Helena sat up, then flowed up, positioning herself on Barbara's left side, near her hip.
"Turn over...?" she panted.
The older woman didn't even think about it. With Helena's help, she positioned herself on her stomach. Then, then, Helena's hands and mouth and teeth and tongue were touching her shoulders and arms and back, stroking away one type of tension and replacing it with another. Then, then, Helena was stretching on top of her, rubbing her chest against Barbara's back, nipping at her neck, growling. The redhead identified the sudden movement against her hips as Helena's sudden jerk, coinciding with the younger woman's throaty, "Oh, fuck -- Barbara..."
Barbara felt her hand lifted, briefly pressed to the dark woman's center. How could she be so hot? So wet? Barbara had scarcely touched the other woman... The younger woman ground herself -- hard -- against the redhead's hand, and, on a moan of unadulterated want, Barbara flexed her fingers instinctively against that hot, liquid warmth... seeking, needing. When Helena moved her hand gently away, Barbara moaned in protest. The older woman thought she heard the soft words 'Not yet.'
And then, then, Helena's hands and mouth were on Barbara's hips and buttocks. With a thrill, the redhead realized that she could actually feel them; distantly, but still feel them.
As she'd healed from the shooting, discovering the limits of her autonomic control and the extent of her physical sensations, Barbara had been surprised to learn that she'd retained more sensation in her ... hindquarters ... than in other areas below her waist. Given that she spent most of her waking hours sitting on the area in question, she'd not always been convinced that this was a particular blessing; however, now, with the dark woman touching and teasing her there, Barbara didn't question the benefits.
Helena whispered something in French -- something about beautiful? definitely something about need -- as she moved her hands and mouth over normally dulled nerves which were now so highly sensitized that Barbara was sure she could feel the sensation of a warm tongue washing over her. Had she felt... yes, oh sweet heavens, yes, she had actually felt it.
And then, then, those slim hands, that soft demanding mouth moved just a bit -- was she going to... Oh heavens, she was -- and Barbara forgot propriety and embarrassment under the sweet teasing pressure, the warm probing tongue. The redhead lost all sense of time and space; her world simultaneously narrowed to the physical connection with Helena and expanded to her tremendous all-encompassing love and tenderness for the young woman. Barbara was vaguely aware of speaking, groaning and shouting, but had no idea what she was saying. However, she was most definitely aware of what she felt, the hungry clenching ache from somewhere low and deep within her. She struggled to push up on her elbows, turned her head enough to catch joyful, questioning blue eyes.
"Help me over, Love. I..." years of independence caused her to stumble over the word, but only for a split second, "I need you inside me."
There was no bright smile, Barbara noticed, as the younger woman gently helped her turn; the dark features were too intense, almost hawklike, blue eyes devouring her, breath panting through flared nostrils.
Barbara instinctively understood the question in the dark woman's features, nodded once as she reached down to help Helena spread her legs. Almost hyperventilating, she followed those slim hands as they moved back up her thighs, brushed through her pubic hair. Helena ducked her head, nose barely brushing the fiery thatch, and inhaled, slow and deep. The sheer volume of the purring that erupted from the brunette's chest startled the older woman; the words sent a charge of electricity through her.
"God, Barbara. You smell so good. You're so fuckin' wet." The dark head dipped, bashfully. "May I taste you?"
Barbara Gordon absolutely, totally ignored the nervousness washing through her. Just because she had limited sensation in some areas, she knew from bitter experience that she simply didn't... couldn't...
"Anything, Hel." The older woman was surprised by the steadiness of her voice.
The dark head lowered as Helena's hands moved between the redhead's thighs. Barbara's arousal increased -- impossibly, it seemed -- as she watched the brunette stroke her face against her. When the younger woman placed her mouth worshipfully against Barbara's center and emitted a throaty moan, the redhead gasped.
Was she really feeling that? Warmth, pressure, faint thrills radiating outward from her center. Barbara felt something wet trickling down her cheek but simply couldn't be bothered to consider the source as she marvelled at the sensations consuming her.
The brunette seemed content to continue her languid stroking indefinitely; however, while she'd always considered herself to be a patient woman, even Barbara had her limits. She moved a slightly trembling hand to stroke through dark silk.
"Helena, please..." Barbara couldn't have named when her voice held such a note of raw pleading. "Inside me. Oh, please, Love, please!"
Without breaking the rhythm of her stroking, the dark woman shifted slightly, moving her hand and, finally, finally that aching need was filled by slim fingers. World reduced to pure bright sensation, Barbara Gordon slid effortlessly into orgasm.
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