Property of Mr. J
1st Vignette
"Heard a nasty rumor about you at lunch today, Doc." Joker twitched his brows suggestively at his comely psychiatrist.
She sauntered toward him, a smile playing on her full pink lips as she brushed a soft wisp of blonde behind her ear.
"And what rumor would that be?"
He splayed his legs dominantly in the overstuffed chair Dr. Quinzel kept to make her patients feel comfortable in her space. As if that had ever been a problem for him.
"A little birdie - believe it was a Crane - told me you fuck your patients." He slithered his tongue seductively out to trace his scars. He almost missed the aftertaste of the greasepaint Arkham's staff had taken from him upon arrival. Then again, with regular showers and no makeup, all he had to do was vomit a sob story and bat his brown puppy eyes and the little split-tail's skirt was around her ankles in no time.
Today the good doctor hiked that darling little skirt up past her thighs and straddled her patient's lap. She leaned in to kiss his scarred cheek and whispered, "Just one."
He was surrounded by her - her baby powder smell, her pert little tits that barely peeked out of her unbuttoned blouse, the hot damp split between her sweet thighs, just begging to be fucked. He squeezed her hand harshly and shoved it down to his already throbbing hard-on.
"That's not what he said," Joker growled.
"Ja-a-ay," she whined through pouted lips and batted her soft blue eyes. "You know Crane's a liar. I wouldn't even give him a date back when he was a doctor here."
He nipped at her collarbone while his fingers wandered beneath her panties, probing her folds. She was bare but for a small blonde trail pointing to her clit. She was also deliciously wet.
Her eyes suddenly widened. "What did you tell him?"
He smiled at her, half reassuringly, half mockingly. "I told him Dr. Quinzel, my doctor, was a saint, and if he ever called my doctor's honor in question again, I'd cut his tongue out and feed it to him."
"Oh J…" She sighed with both relief and ardor, and cupped his face with both hands, running her thumbs lovingly over his scars. "You're so chivalrous. We may have to work on more, uh, healthy expressions of disapproval, but still… such a sweetheart to defend your lady's honor like that."
"What can I say? I guess I'm just a born gentleman." He tore her panties to one side and stuffed his whole thick cock into her opening, grinning when she winced at the shock.
He grabbed her hipbones and bounced her furiously up and down his shaft, growling when she buried her face in his neck and helplessly curled her fingers around his green tinged hair. He shoved one hand between them and rubbed her clit angrily.
She made what sounded like an "ow" noise at first, but quickly turned into a series of gasping, whimpering, desperate moans into his ear.
"Who's the only man who gets to fuck you, little girl?"
She cried out his self-given name, and when he exploded into her with a loud grunt she toppled violently over the edge herself.
After a few moments, both of them laying there still connected and panting, she nuzzled his cheek and softly told him, "Of course you're the only one, J. Always."
He stifled a giggle and patted her head against his chest, licking his lips and grinning at how easy it was to wind up his toy.