Batgirl's Seduction f/m

[Mr.LegBrat]

I knew it was inappropriate to date Trish. We both worked in the circulation department of an Outdoors magazine devoted to hunting and fishing, but I was the circulation manager and she was just a secretary, and if our relationship soured, it could lead to a sexual harrassment suit. She was also only 21, 25 years younger than I was. Nevertheless, she persued me, and I couldn't resist because she was a beautiful voluptuous woman. How voluptuous?

She was a freckle-faced brunette with unusually large breasts, filling a cup size approaching a high double letter I couldn't even guess at. Let's just say they dwarfed my hands. And because whe was young, they didn't sag at all. Her bottom, thick and floppy, excited me even more.

We knew each other for a year before we started dating, but it took less than a month for her to invite me to spend the night at her flat--a two bedroom townhouse with brick trim. I assumed she lived by herself. Now being an older divorced man with more experience, I believed I was going to teach her a few things. I had it backwards.

She told me to take my clothes off and wait for her in the bed which was a small one, covered with pink sheets. The late evening sun shot its last rays through the white shade. Trish turned the bedroom light on, nonetheless, so it was bright inside, and the yellow painted walls gave an atmosphere of cheer.

I undressed and got under the covers, my erection creating a tent in the sheets. I expected her to come out of the bathroom wearing a conservative negligee. Instead, she shocked me. I gazed at Trish in a batgirl costume.

"I hope you're kinky, Mr. Wadley," she said. "Want to pretend you're the joker?"

I sat up, my heart pounding. For a second the situation seemed psychotic, yet my weakness for female domination killed my judgement.

"Ok, sounds exciting."

She removed two handcuffs from her utility belt.

"Now, Mr. Joker. If you let mje handcuff you to the bed, I'll let you see my big boobies naked. Is it a deal? Do you surrender to my authority?"

"Yes," I said, knowing that this was crazy, that I shouldn't let her. But I was too turned on to say no.

She straddled me. Handcuffed both wrists to the bed posts.

"Time for a little interrogations," she said. "Where are the hostages?"

"What hostages?"

"Don't play games with me, Mr. Joker."

The mask hid the expression on her face, but she played her role so seriously, I suddenly felt terrified.

"What, what' re you going to do to me?"

"Tell me where your keeping the hostages...or I'm going to tickle you."

Realizing how vulnerable I was, I tried frantically to squirm my wrists free to no avail. My ex-wife occasionally had tickled me, but I'd never let her tie me down and I could grab her hands, retaliate, and she would want to quit right away because I was stronger. I'd never been in this situation before, though strangely it had been a fantasy as long as I could remember.

"No, don't," I said.

She tickled under my beard.

"Coochie, coochie, coo."

I felt silly. She was treating me like a baby. She continued lightly tickling my neck and upper chest, keeping me on the verge of laughing. Meanwhile, her huge breasts hovered over me. I didn't know if I was in heaven or hell.

"Tell me, tell me, tell me," she said her tone rising to a high womanly voice. "Tell me where the hostages are."

I tried hard not to laugh, but she was merciless. I finally let out a little giggle, then coughed to disguise it. I didn't want her to know I was ticklish. Being ticklish seemed a form of physical weakness, and I wanted her to think that I was a strong man, like my ex-wife did.

"Are you ticklish?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"I don't believe you, Mr. Joker,"

She tickled my ribs and armpits with vigor. I burst out laughing, much to my embarrassment.

"You lied, Mr. Joker. You are ticklish. I'm going to make you laugh like a maniac."

She lightly tickled my neck again, and I lost my ability to hold my laughter in any more. I giggled helplessly. And she didn't stop. I began to fear she would never stop and literally tickle me to death.

"Stop, please, stop," I begged.

"Tell me where the hostages are."

She turned around and grabbed a foot.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle," she said in a teasing voice.

I laughed out loud again and reflexively tried to sit up, but the cuffs restrained me.

"Are your testicles ticklish?"

"No, not there."

Her fingernails tormented my balls.

"Yaaah!" I yelled and laughed in desperation "Somebody help me!"

She sat on my face, her sexy substantial ass forcing me to turn my head.

"That should silence you. Now tell me. Where are the hostages?"

She tickled my belly, and I laughed so hard my stomach muscles hurt.

"Here," I said, my voice muffled by her black panty-covered buttocks. "The hostage is in your bed. The hostage is me."

"Good answer. That's the correct answer to my puzzle. I didn't think you were going to figure it out."

She got off me and stripped her cape and boots off and threw them on the floor. She pulled her dress and panties down. She straddled me again and shoved my penis in her pussy, while facing my feet, and I watched her bottom flop up and down. I was about to orgasm when she pulled away and squeezed my cock, prevening the semen from exiting. She rode me again, and it tickled my dick, making me laugh again. I felt humiliated.

She faced me and took the rest of her costume off, except for her mask. She removed her bra and revealed her enormous high bosoms. She started riding me again, her big boobs bouncing, and I heard a car park next to the window. I didn't think anything of it until I heard the keys jungle, the front door open. The bedroom door was wide open, and I panicked, wanting to escape, yet wanting to finish, but now the cum wouldn't ejaculate.

"Who's that?" I asked, fearing a jealous boyfriend.

"My mom. Didn't you know, she lives here with me."

I heard footsteps. Someone standing in the doorway. I was afraid to look but did anyway. It was evident that big boobs ran in the family because she had gigantic ones. Her mother stood in the doorway, watching us, an amused smile on her face.

"Batgirl strikes again, eh?"

I orgasmed. Trish tickled me ribs, catching me by surprise, and I laughed once more.

"Let him go, Trish. Your tickling is embarrassing him. For goodness sakes he's my age. He's old enough to be your father."

Trish unlocked the cuffs, but I was so exhausted I couldn't move. Trish's mom sat on the bed next to me. Trish sat on the other side.

"You've got a hot body for a man your age. Want to date me too?"

"Aw mom, leave us alone," Trish complained.

"I play wonder woman."

I tried to resist, but I rose again.