Written a few months ago for the Batman Kink Meme. :D
The material was soft to the touch, and smooth, smooth, smooth, oh so smooth—smoother even than his own gloves, which were made from a similar material. The smoothest thing Oswald Cobblepot had ever touched. He continued running his hands over it, unable to get over just how amazing the material was before attempting to slip his own hand inside. It didn't fit, of course—he had flippers, Catwoman had hands, and even if he did have five fingers, his hand was still far larger than hers. No matter. He still slid in as much of his hand as he could.
Cobblepot was used to the cold. He'd been around it his whole life, which was why he didn't mind the temperature that bleak December evening. On the contrary, it fueled him, invigorated him.
He grinned as he ran his partially gloved hand down his chest, slipping his arm inside his shirt through the armhole so he could see what it'd feel like running across his bare chest. The thoughts of all the things his feline companion had done (or might have done) while wearing that glove ran through his mind. She'd fought while wearing that glove, played cat and mouse with the Batman wearing it, committed arson, climbed buildings. Hell, the glove was probably filthy, but Penguin liked that idea, too.
Penguin wondered if Catwoman wore that costume when she was alone, too. Probably not. It was probably too uncomfortable to wear all the time. Still, it worked better for the sake of his fantasies to assume she wore it all the time. He imagined her in the shower wearing skintight pleather, water cascading down her front, falling off her suit and dampening strands of hair that fell from her mask. He imagined her sprawled out on a bed, costume pulled down past her waist, her gloves and mask still intact. Imagined her sliding her hand down the front of her body, licking her lips and smiling. Sliding a gloved finger inside herself. Oh, what if it were true? The rhythm of his stroking hand blocked out all logic, including the fact that it was illogical to think that she masturbated while wearing her gloves or showered in her costume. With the smoothness of the glove on him, he could almost imagine it was her hand touching him, not his own. That thought pushed him over the edge, and he came on the silky material.
As he recovered from his orgasm, he slowly returned to reality. Penguin removed his hand from the glove, examining it before wiping it and smiling bitterly. How would his feline friend react if she knew he'd managed to get hold of one of her gloves? He knew this was the closest thing he could have to her, and accepted that, but still sometimes longed for more. Touching, licking, fucking. Nothing would be good enough until he could have her. That lust was growing almost uncontrollable now. This time, it was her glove, but how long before he tried to take her? Time was running out. Oswald knew that. But still he stood there with that glove, noting how the texture spoiled due to post-ejaculate stickiness. Damn. It was a shame, a real shame. The smoothest, softest thing he'd felt ruined by his own hand…so to speak. Now, all he could do was hope Catwoman wouldn't notice it. The thought of having a part of himself on her glove thrilled him.
He pocketed the glove and picked his umbrella up from the alley wall it leaned against, heading back to his place to replace the glove.