The Huntress and Robin

Author: Unknown
Time to Read:28min
Views:0 (All Time)
Added Date:1/29/2022
Tags: Robin

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of erotic fiction using characters that are trademarks of DC Comics and contains graphic scenes of sexual activities. This story is intended for the non-commercial enjoyment of the author and her friends. No trademark or copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from the distribution of this story. If this type of story is offensive to you or you are a minor, DO NOT READ THIS STORY.

Characters Robin/Tim Drake: After creatively putting together childhood memories of circus trapeze artists with news footage of Gotham City's vigilante protectors, Tim Drake deduced the secret identities of Batman and Robin. This was the start of his journey to become the third teenager to wear the Robin costume at the age of thirteen. In current DC Universe time Tim Drake is fourteen; in my own little version of the DCU, Tim is a little older, around sixteen.

Jack Drake: During most of his son's life, Jack Drake spent his time jetting around the world and running his company until he was critically injured and his wife, Tim's mother, was killed by the Obeah Man.
Now, he is on the road to recovery after being treated by Shondra Kinsolving, a doctor with paranormal healing abilities. Although still confined to a wheelchair and unable to walk, Jack Drake is determined to involve himself in Tim's life and make up for his neglect of their relationship.

Ariana Dzerchenko: Ariana is the daughter of Russian immigrants (father deceased) who own a printing shop in Gotham City and the long-suffering girlfriend of Tim Drake. Her character is yet to be more than superficially developed, as her main role has been to be stood up time after time as Tim makes a habit of breaking their dates due to his extra-curricular crime-fighting activities.

The Huntress/Helena Bertinelli: Daughter of a major mob boss, Helena's entire family was executed in a mob hit. As the only survivor, she has taken the identity of the Huntress and sworn vengeance on the mob who was responsible for her family's death. As Helena Bertinelli, she is an English teacher at Gotham City's Whitman High school. I don't remember her age being explicitly stated, but once again, in my version of the DCU, Helena is in her early twenties --22 to 24. The Huntress' secret identity is known by Robin, but not by Batman, who grudgingly tolerates her presence in Gotham, and strongly disapproves of her methods of bringing justice to mob members, which involve a cross-bow and more violence and bloodshed than he feels is necessary.

Windows Part One

The Huntress was kneeling on the walkway that wound along the waterfront. The rough pavement cut into her knees, but that was the least of her worries at the moment. Her hands had been bound behind her back with a plastic covered bicycle chain, and she was the center of attention in a circle of four mob thugs. Her attention, however, was concentrated solely on the barrel of the shotgun that was pressed tightly against her head just behind her right ear.

"Sonny Gamboza sends his regards, bitch," the man holding the shotgun jabbed it into the Huntress' head.

"Tell Sonny I'll see him in hell!" she spat back.

"Hold on a sec, Joey," the man standing in front of her unzipped his pants. "Let's have some fun with her first, before you do her. Okay, bitch, how much longer you live depends on how good a blowjob you give," he pulled out his stiffening cock and moved in closer.

Robin, who had been watching the scene play out below him from his hiding place on a warehouse roof, knew that now was the time to do something. The only problem was, no great plan of action was coming to mind. It looked like it was going to be just him against the four of them. And while the shotgun was the only weapon in sight, he felt sure that the other three mooks would be only too quick to add their guns to the party. The Huntress probably wouldn't be much help, either, not unless she was an expert in kickboxing.

Guess it's gonna have to be the old alley fake-off, he thought as he picked up a loose shingle and tossed it into a cluster of garbage cans sitting in the alley.

Five heads jerked toward the clanging, as one of the cans fell over. "Who's in there?" called the man who had unzipped his pants and was standing in front of the Huntress, both fists clenched in her hair, holding her head still.

"Prob'ly just a tom-cat, Sal, lookin' for some pointers," one of the other men said, and the rest of them laughed.

"Yeah, come on, Sal, get on with it. The rest of us want our turns," Joey said impatiently, letting the shotgun shift slightly away from the Huntress' head.

"Sorry, guys, time's up!" Robin yelled as he swung down from the roof, feet-first into Joey's shoulder, knocking him backwards and sending the shotgun sliding across the pavement into the shadows.

The Huntress drove her head into Sal's crotch with all the force she could muster, putting all her anger into it. Sal gave a stifled gasp, fell backwards and curled into a ball of pain, hands between his legs.

The third man was reaching inside his jacket for his gun when Robin whirled and kicked him behind the knee. He went down, tumbling into the last thug, and throwing him off-balance. Robin landed a kick to the side of his head, and he joined the rest of his friends on the pavement. Robin worked quickly and had all four of them tied up before they could recover from his attack. He then turned his attention to the Huntress.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he said, working the chain off her wrists.

"I guess that's another save I owe you for." As the chain slipped over her hands, she turned and put her arms around his neck. "How can I ever repay you?" she murmured, her body pressing against him, her full, slightly parted lips only inches from his.

"Tim! Are you all right in there? You've been in the shower for forty-five minutes now, and all the hot water's gone!" Jack Drake pounded loudly on Tim's bathroom door.

With a start, Tim Drake snapped out of his daydream, and realized that he was standing under a spray of cold water and not on one of Gotham's piers, about to be kissed by the Huntress.

"I'm fine, Dad, just finishing up," he called to his father as he turned off the water and reached for a towel. As he dried himself, he felt his face flush with the guilty awareness that he had an erection.

What's happening to me? This is the third time today that I've zoned out daydreaming about Helena Bertinelli. Actually, he thought, a grin curving his lips, daydreaming about Helena's lips, and Helena's breasts --damn! I'm doing it again!

"Tim! Are you still taking out your little girlfriend tonight? If you are, you better get a move on, it's almost seven o'clock!"

"Yes, Dad, I'm almost ready!" Geez, let up! What are you doing, sitting out there waiting on me? Tim hurriedly pulled on his jeans and jerked open the bathroom door, barely avoiding tripping over his father who, in fact, was waiting for him in the hallway.

"Here are the keys to the van, or do you want to take my Town Car?"

"The van's fine, Dad. Thanks." No, I think I'll take the Redbird tonight, really impress Ariana. Yeah, right. Bruce would love that. Tim grabbed his jacket and started out the front door.

"Have fun, but be home by eleven."

"Sure, Dad." Okay, Dad. Whatever you say, Dad. Just let me get out of here, Dad. This concerned-dad act is coming a little too late, Dad. Tim immediately felt ashamed for thinking this way about his father, but Jack Drake's attempt to take an interest in his son's life after so many years of focusing almost solely on running his company was beginning to make Tim feel like he was being smothered. You should be grateful that you still have a father, his conscience scolded him.

Tim sighed as he merged the van with the other traffic that was headed into Gotham City. Sometimes his life just seemed to be getting too complicated. He had broken way too many dates with Ariana lately, and tonight was probably his last chance to make it up to her before she dumped him. And this weird obsession with Helena Bertinelli that he had developed wasn't making life any easier. He couldn't seem to get her image out of his mind: her lush, full lips, so soft and warm; her chocolate brown eyes, staring at him; the round contours of her breasts, outlined by the clinging fabric of her costume, her nipples hard and erect. . . . .

Tim slammed on the brakes and cut across three lanes of traffic just in time to avoid missing the exit he needed to take to get to Ariana's house. Whoa! Snap out of it, Tim. You're going to get yourself killed.


In the darkened theater Ariana's head rested lightly on Tim's shoulder, her sweet-scented hair tickling his cheek. His hand curled against her upper arm and he gently stroked her soft, warm skin.

Dinner had gone pretty well, considering his earlier state of mind; he had drifted off into a Huntress daydream only a couple of times and had been able to blame his distraction on pre-exam worries.
But as for the movie they were watching, he couldn't have said what it was about if his life depended on it.
The combination of the dark room and a female body pressed against him was just too much for his imagination.

Without thinking Tim moved his hand slightly and his fingers lightly touched Ariana's breast. Startled, she jerked away from him, almost spilling her drink.

"Tim! What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, Ariana," he whispered, moving to the other side of his seat. "Okay, so much for stealing second.'

The rest of the movie and most of the drive back to Ariana's house went by in silence. Tim had to park about two blocks away from the house, and as he shut off the van and started to get out to walk Ariana to her front door, she put her hand on his arm, stopping him. Her deep brown, almost black, eyes stared unblinkingly into his; Tim stared back, unsure of what she wanted. After long seconds, Ariana ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, moistening them. You dummy! She's waiting for you to kiss her!

Hesitantly, Tim pressed his lips gently against Ariana's. She returned the pressure of his lips, opening her mouth slightly, her tongue tickling his. Tim responded enthusiastically, leaning into the kiss, moving on top of Ariana and pressing her down into the seat. His hands cupped her small, round breasts and he could feel her nipples growing hard against his palms. He gently rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, almost afraid to touch her, and Ariana made a soft little sound that could have been a moan.

"Tim, stop! We can't do this," she gasped, suddenly pushing him away from her.

Tim sat back in his own seat, breathing hard. He shifted his position slightly, hoping she wouldn't be able to see the erection he had gotten just from the kissing.

"But, Ariana, I thought you wanted me to kiss you . . ."

"I don't know, Tim. I mean, I did want you to kiss me, just not . . . not everything you were doing, " Ariana turned her face away in embarassment.

"I'm sorry, Ariana," Tim apologized for what seemed like the tenth time that evening. "I got carried away. I really like you a lot."

"Tim, I want to thank you for a good time this evening, but --this is hard for me to say --I don't think we're going to work out as a . . . a couple. You keep breaking our dates, and . . . and ignoring my phone calls and . . . and when we finally do go out, you want to . . . to go too far!" Visibly upset, Ariana jerked open the door of the van and started walking hurriedly toward her house.

"Ariana, wait! Let me walk you!" Tim cried, running after her, but by the time he caught up with her, she was running up her front steps.

"Just leave me alone, Tim!"

"Ariana, please let me --"

She disappeared inside, slamming the door behind her.

" --make it up to you," Tim finished, as he turned and headed glumly back to the van.


Windows Part Two

Tim was too wired to sleep. The house was hot and he had opened the window to let in some of the coolness of the night air, but this was one of those rare nights in late September when the weather was almost summer-like, still humid and sticky. He had been lying in bed for going on two hours now, trying to go to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, his mind replayed his disastrous date with Ariana. Then, somehow, Ariana's face became that of Helena Bertinelli, but just when things really started to heat up, he would jerk awake. Now, lying on his side and looking out his window, he could see the huge, full moon rising through the branches of a tree: the hunter's moon. Or was that the Huntress' moon?

Okay, that's it! This is a waste of time, trying to sleep. I think it's time Robin went out and did a check on crime in Gotham. Making his decision, Tim quickly put on his costume and left the house through the open window. In minutes he was on the highway, heading back into Gotham City for the second time that night, only this time in the Redbird.

Robin drove randomly through Gotham's crime district, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Evidently the weather had discouraged any criminal activity tonight; no one had the energy for it. He was a little surprised when he realized he was driving through the section of the city where Helena Bertinelli owned an apartment building. What the heck, I might as well cruise by, I'm only a couple streets over.

Robin parked the Redbird in the alley that ran along the back of Helena's building. Looking up, he could see a lighted window on the top floor, the one where Helena actually lived. She had rigged an elaborate sound system throughout the entire building to simulate tenants, so that the casual passerby would think the building was occupied, but Robin knew she lived there alone. Acting on impulse, he threw his rope around the railing of a fire escape landing that was two floors below Helena's window, and climbed up to the landing. Making as little noise as possible, he went up the metal stairs for the remaining two floors until he was standing on the landing outside the lighted window.

Apparently he hadn't been the only one bothered by the heat, because the large, five foot high window was open wide, and the music he had heard faintly in the alley was now obviously coming from here. He peered cautiously around the edge of the window frame and, unable to help himself, gasped out loud at what he saw.

Helena Bertinelli, looking even more fabulous than she had in his fantasies, was dancing around the big loft that was her bedroom. She must have just come home from one of the city's clubs, because she was still wearing her evening clothes. As she danced around the room, her back to him, he could see that the three tiny shoulder straps of her short dress came up over her shoulders, met and crossed in the middle of her back, while the back of the dress plunged to a point slightly below her waist. The fabric was a clingy, midnight blue satin, shot through with silver threads, so that it glimmered whenever she moved.
Still swaying to the beat of the music, she kicked off her satin pumps with what had to be at least five-inch stiletto-like heels; the sequins along the sides of the shoes winked at him as they reflected the light from the lamps on either side of her bed.

Standing in front of a floor-length, Victorian style mirror, she crossed her arms in front of her and pulled the dress off over her head. Robin had to bite his lip to keep from gasping again and giving himself away, because Helena was not wearing a bra. The light film of perspiration on her tanned skin gleamed in the lamp's light. From the waist down she had on a dark blue satin, bikini panty that was cut high on the hips and had a tiny thong in back which concealed nothing of her firmly muscled, rounded butt. Her thigh- high stockings ended in a wide band of lace about mid-way up her thighs. It was obvious from her well- defined, but not overly muscular, body that Helena devoted a large amount of time to physical workouts.

Reflected back at him in the mirror, Robin could see her incredibly full, round breasts, her erect nipples surrounded by dark,circular aureoles, in sharp contrast to the tiny, triangular patch of lighter skin that would have been covered by a swimsuit top. Turning to each side, cupping a breast in each hand, she inspected her breasts in the mirror and, pleased by what she saw, she smiled. She ran her hands down her body, across her flat, almost concave, stomach and down the sides of slim hips. Again she turned to the side, extended her leg slightly backwards, flexing the muscles, and admired the "dancer's hollow' that appeared in her hip.

This is wrong. You shouldn't be watching her like this, Robin's conscience prodded him again, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her, and he leaned a little further into the window, trying to keep her in sight as she swayed her hips in a seductive rhythm to the music.

As she watched her body move, Helena caught the barest glimpse of yellow reflected from the window in the mirror. Without missing a beat, she began to dance slowly around the room, working her way gradually over to the open window. Making a point not to look in that direction, she danced with her back to it until she was in front of the left side, where she had seen the suspicious color.

Helena lunged suddenly, grabbing for the yellow fabric with both hands, and yanked Robin through the open window and into the room. Caught totally by surprise and thrown off-balance, Robin tripped over the window ledge and went down on one knee as he hit the floor.

"You --you little fuck! What the hell were you doing out there? Spying on me like a --a peeping tom!" Helena screamed at him, her fear turning quickly to fury.

"I --I can explain, Helena, just ---" Robin stood up, his face a bright red under his mask.

Not in the mood for an explanation, Helena drew back her arm to slap Robin, but he caught her hand inches before it connected with his face. Turning his block against him, she grabbed his arm with both hands, whirled, and slammed him against the wall beside the window. Realizing that Helena was out of control with anger and wanted a fight, Robin aimed a half-hearted, defensive kick at her which she easily avoided.

"Helena, stop! I don't want to hurt you, just let me explain," Robin tried speaking calmly, but she wasn't having any of his attempt at conciliation.

"Fuck you, you little shit! I'm going to teach you you can't go around spying on people!"

Helena pursued him across the room, trying to land a kick, but Robin had been trained by the best martial arts experts, and he could anticipate and avoid all her moves. She was breathing hard, as much from her exertion as from her anger, and she paused for a moment to catch her breath and try a different attack. Taking the offensive, Robin rushed her, but instead of sidestepping to avoid him as he expected her to do, Helena dropped backward onto her braced arms and kicked him in the stomach with both feet. The blow sent Robin staggering back, and Helena launched herself at him, her shoulder hitting him in a classic football tackle. Her weight and momentum slammed him into the footboard of her bed, snapping his head back hard against the ornate, forged iron. The fight came to a sudden end as Robin accomplished with his unconsciousness what he couldn't do with reasoning.


Windows Part Three

Robin was out for only a couple of minutes, but as he shook his throbbing head and tried to get his eyes to focus, he realized that it had been long enough for Helena to put him in a very vulnerable position.
He was stretched out on his back on her bed, his hands fastened tightly to the iron headboard with the type of plastic wrist restraints used by some police departments. She had used his rope to bind his ankles together and then tied the rope around the bed's footboard. He could move his head and wiggle his fingers, but that was the limit of his mobility.

As he looked around the room he saw Helena standing next to the bed, hands on her hips, smiling smugly down at him. She had put on a plain white man's tee shirt that covered her body down to the tops of her stockings. Robin had never seen a tee shirt look so good, the stretchy fabric outlining in clinging detail every curve and contour of her breasts.

"Okay, you win this one. Untie me and I'll forget this ever happened." Robin made a feeble attempt at a joke.

"You're not calling the shots here, kid," Helena's smile broadened. "You're going to be doing what I tell you to do." God, she thought, I'm beginning to sound like the mooks that worked for my father!

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry! Untie me and I'll leave."

Helena didn't move, just continued to smile at Robin, watching him squirm. Her anger had dissipated, and now she was starting to have fun.

"Come on, Helena! You're gonna want to go to bed sometime, so just untie me and I'll get out of your way."

She laughed out loud at this, enjoying the situation. "You know, you've just given me the perfect opportunity to level the playing field, so to speak. All this time, you've had the advantage, knowing who I really am, where I live. Now all I have to do is lift this cute little mask of yours --"

"No!" Robin interrupted, turning his head to the side.

Helena grabbed his jaw with one hand, jerking his head back to face her. She ran her fingernail lightly around the edge of his mask, searching for a loose area. "We don't want to keep any more secrets from each other, now, do we? After all, you've already seen so much of me tonight, I should get to see a little more of you."

"Don't, Helena," he whispered, serious now. "You don't know what you'll be doing to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"If anyone finds out who I am, Batman will make me stop being Robin!"

"My heart is breaking." She tugged gently at the lower corner of the mask.

"Helena, please! You've been around him enough to know how he is. Besides, I've never told anyone else about you."

She hesitated, considering what he'd said. She had had just enough dealings with Batman to know that he would most likely react exactly as Robin thought he would. "I'm probably a fool for doing this, but i'll give you a break tonight, kid," she sighed. "I'm not promising I won't change my mind later, though!"

"Thanks, Helena! I owe you big time! Now, if you'll just untie me, I'll get out of here --"

"I don't think so. There's still this little matter of you spying on me."

"Look, I've already apologized once, but if you want to hear it again, okay, I'm really sorry. It won't happen again."

"Hmmmm, you know, I just don't think that's going to be enough, " Helena sat down on the bed next to him, her stockinged thigh pressing against his side. She realized that she was feeling more than a little turned on, her panties starting to dampen, and, glancing down, she saw that her nipples were erect, poking against the tee shirt. After all, it had been a long time since she'd been to bed with anyone; sex just hadn't been much of a priority since her family had been murdered.

"Well, what else do you want from me?" Robin was beginning to get a little exasperated.

"Let's start with what you wanted from me," she said softly, leaning over and pressing her mouth against his in a gentle kiss. At the contact of their lips, she felt a jolt similar to a discharge of static electricity, and she jerked away, startled.

"Wow. How'd you do that?" Robin asked, obviously having felt the shockwave, too.

Helena laughed. "I think we've just experienced that chemistry thing everyone talks about."

"Could I please experience more of that?" Robin grinned.

"Little smarty pants,' Helena thought, as she brought her mouth down hard on his. "You just may get more than you can handle!'

This time their kiss lasted quite a bit longer than the first time, and when she finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard. They stared into each other's eyes, silently, considering what had just happened between them and what was about to happen. Then Helena stood up and slowly lifted her arms, pulling the tee shirt off. She heard Robin's quick intake of breath as her breasts bounced free of the clingy shirt, and she felt a little thrill of pleasure in the pit of her stomach at his reaction. She began stroking her breasts, letting her fingers trail across the tops and sides and then slowly circling each nipple. Robin swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off her.

Slowly, Helena ran her fingers down her stomach and lightly stroked her satin-covered pubic mound. Still smiling, she hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties and slid them down over her hips. Her pubic hair was shaved into a narrow, vertical strip, just covering her mons. Totally naked, except for the thigh-high stockings, she stood next to the bed and bent over from the waist, placing her breasts inches from Robin's face.

"You wanted a good look. Is this close enough for you?" she teased.

"Unnnhh . . . . " Robin gave her his snappiest comeback. He could smell her perfume, a clean, almost soap-like scent, and could feel the heat coming off her. Little drops of sweat appeared on his upper lip.

"Or perhaps you'd like a taste, instead," she pushed her left nipple against Robin's lips. He licked the tip of his tongue over her nipple and Helena impatiently pushed it into his mouth.

"Don't be shy. Try a mouthful," she giggled.

He ran his tongue over the part of her breast that was in his mouth, circling her nipple, and every now and then, coming back to tickle it. She tasted like nothing he had ever had in his mouth before, musky, but a little spicy, almost like cinnamon.

"Bite it," she whispered, her eyes closed in enjoyment.

Not wanting to hurt her, but wanting to please her, too, Robin took her nipple between his teeth and pressed down gently. Helena moaned, feeling that delicious little ache that she knew from experience preceded an orgasm. She realized that she was getting unbelievably wet, so much that the inside of her thighs were starting to get slick. Reluctantly, she pulled away, not wanting things to move so quickly.

"Did --did I do something wrong?" Robin asked, afraid that he had hurt her.

"Not at all. I just want to take it a little slower," she smiled, tracing the outline of his lips with her finger. She kissed him again, long and slow, sucking his lower lip between hers and tickling the sensitive inside with her tongue. This time, it was Robin who moaned in enjoyment.

Fumbling a little because of the unfamiliarity of his costume, Helena opened his vest and pulled up the tight-fitting shirt beneath it, exposing his smooth, muscled chest. She began kissing him, starting at his neck and slowly working her way down and across his pectoral muscles. Robin felt as if his sense of touch had been enhanced and amplified a hundred times, Helena's hot, wet mouth seeming to burn his skin wherever she touched. He gasped as she sucked on his own nipple, teasing it with her tongue, nipping it gently with her teeth. Never had he had anything like this done to him before.

Straddling his body, she moved downward, continuing to kiss his stomach, lightly licking the taut skin, her fingers working to unfasten his belt. His muscles contracted involuntarily as her tongue found the ticklish part of his stomach.

"Unnhh, Helena, if you'll untie me I can help with that."

Ignoring him, having finally figured out how the belt was closed, she released it and pulled the bottom half of his costume down to his knees. He was wearing an athletic supporter underneath the tights, but it did nothing to hide his bulging erection.

"You're certainly well protected here," she teased, her fingers lightly stroking him through the fabric, feeling his cock jerk at her touch. She could see the tip of it sticking out beneath the elastic waist band, and she circled it with her fingertip, feeling the slippery wetness. "Ummmm, very pretty," she grinned impishly, pulling down the supporter and releasing his straining cock.

Still smiling, Helena bent forward and licked his cock, starting at the base and running her tongue slowly up the length. She circled the swollen head with the tip of her tongue, tickling the little slit of an opening, then took the head into her mouth, surrounding it with her lips and tongue.

Robin gasped loudly as he felt the incredible sensation of Helena's warm, wet mouth close over his most sensitive body part. He couldn't believe this was actually happening, the reality was so much better than even his most vivid daydream.

Slowly, taking her time, Helena moved her mouth up and down on his cock, taking a little more of it in each time her head went down. Relaxing her throat muscles, she soon had the entire length of his cock in her mouth. She cupped his balls in her right hand, delicately stroking with her fingernails and now and again squeezing gently. After a couple of minutes of slow sucking, Helena could tell that Robin was so excited that he was very close to coming. Regretfully, she let him slide out of her mouth, and stood up.

"Whuh --why did you stop?" he asked, panting, having a hard time focusing his attention on forming sentences instead of what was happening between his legs.

She leaned over and kissed him again, opening her mouth and thrusting her tongue deep inside. "I'll be right back. Don't go away," she said playfully, letting her breasts drag across his chest as she straightened up and walked out of the room.

"What are you doing?" Robin asked, when Helena returned after a minute, holding something in her hand.

"I'm sure you've seen one of these before," she removed the condom from its wrapper and held it up between her thumb and index finger. "Well, the bad news is, now you get to wear one."

"But --but I'm okay, I mean I haven't been with anyone . . ."

"Oh, that's so sweet, but if you won't even let me see who you are, how can you expect me to believe you about something like that?" she teased as she quickly slipped the condom on him. "They do have other uses, too, you know."

"Oh. Yeah," Robin said, memories of biology class kicking in.

"By the way," she smiled as she again moved into position over his cock, "it's perfectly acceptable to say "fuck'. As a matter of fact, why don't you tell me how much you'd like to fuck me while I'm sucking your sweet little cock?" In one quick movement she took him all the way into her mouth and resumed her rhythmical up-and-down movements.

Not yet having had the opportunity to talk dirty to a girl, Robin was a little unsure of what Helena wanted him to say, but he was certainly willing to try.

"Unh, I --I want to f-fuck you, Helena. I would really like to fuck you." Great, Tim. You sound like a total cheeseball. He stopped, trying to think of what Helena wanted to hear, instead of focusing on what she was doing with her mouth.

Trying not to laugh, Helena stopped her movements long enough to give him a hint, "Tell me how you want to fuck me."

"I --I want to --to fuck you real slow to start, then . . . then start fucking faster. And deeper. And . . .and . . ." Robin's voice trailed off as he was distracted by what Helena was doing to his cock.

Even through the insulating layer of the condom, Helena had used her lips and tongue so skillfully that she had brought him once again to the edge of orgasm in only a couple of minutes. He was so close, his breath coming in sob-like gasps, that when Helena stopped for the second time, frustration was apparent in his voice.

"Noooo, don't stop!"

Helena moved around to face him, straddling his chest. "Sssh. Listen and learn." She placed her fingers over his lips. "First thing is: take it slow," she said, placing her knees on either side of his head.
"It's so much nicer when you don't rush. And the second thing is," she lowered herself so that her pussy was directly above Robin's face, "share and share alike!"

With her pubic hair tickling his nose, Robin had his first close-up look at female genitals, something he hadn't quite gotten around to yet in his fantasies. Helena's labia were pink and swollen, glistening with a dewy-like moisture, and the same musky, spicy smell was much stronger here.
Hesitantly, he put out his tongue and touched her, tasting the slightly sweet taste of her lubricating juices.
Helena moaned in pleasure and pressed down harder onto his mouth. Robin tried to imitate how she had used her tongue on his cock, and licked and tickled her pussy, feeling the little bead of her clitoris growing harder.

Just when she felt the waves of pleasure start coming faster and closer together, Helena again moved away, and kissed Robin heatedly, pressing her mouth hard against his. She could taste herself on his mouth and this aroused her even further; she sucked his lower lip between her teeth and bit down, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to hurt a little.

"Owww. That hurt." Robin pulled his mouth away from her. "Helena, please untie me. I want to touch you."

"Shut up!" she whispered fiercely. "No more talking, just fuck!"

She moved down over his pelvis, positioning his cock at the opening of her pussy. Slowly, she pressed down on him, pushing him inside her a fraction of an inch at a time, savoring the feel of each inch until she had him all the way inside her. She held still for a moment, wiggling her hips just a little, enjoying the feeling of a cock inside her. It had been such a long time, she had forgotten how good it felt.

Robin's breath was coming faster, the incredible feeling of Helena's tight, hot pussy surrounding his cock taking him quickly towards orgasm. He could feel her moving upward and away from him and he was afraid she was going to pull away again, but just when he was about to slip out of her, she pushed slowly downward again.

"Try . . . to hold . . . back," she gasped, moving gradually faster, his cock sliding easily in and out of her copiously wet pussy. She put her hands against the headboard to brace herself, and without her noticing, they slid down onto Robin's still bound hands, and their fingers curled tightly around each other.

She was moving quicker, trying to reach that point of no return in her arousal, when she felt and heard Robin coming. The sounds he made and the feel of his cock jerking inside her were all she needed to push her over the edge, and she screamed in pleasure as the delicious feeling flooded through her body.
Seconds later, it was over for both of them, and she let her body sag onto him, catching her breath.

After a couple of minutes, their breathing and heart rates having returned to more normal rates, Helena sat up and unfastened Robin's hands. Standing up, she untied his ankles, then pointed in the direction she had gone to get the condom.

"Bathroom's through there. You can clean up first."

Robin felt hundreds of little pinpricks when he brought his arms down as the circulation returned, but it didn't detract in the least from the still-lingering feelings of his first sexual encounter. This was definitely going to be one of the top ten best nights of his life.

Helena waited until she had heard the water running for a couple of minutes before she slipped quietly into the bathroom. Robin's costume was in a heap on the tiled floor and she could see the blurry outline of his body through the frosted glass of the shower doors. She slid one of the doors open and quickly stepped in with him.

"Helena! What are you doing? You promised you wouldn't try to find out who I am!"

"Relax. You could be one of a couple hundred kids I see every day at school," she said, running her hands through his wet hair as her mouth found his.

They kissed heatedly, Helena pressing her body aggressively against him, Robin matching her passion. This time, his hands were all over her, touching all the places he hadn't been able to touch before.
Breaking away from her lips, he kissed her right breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth and biting it gently, while continuing to squeeze her left breast with his hand. Helena leaned back against the wall of the shower, making little moaning sounds of pleasure.

Suddenly Helena pulled away from him, knelt down and took his partially erect cock in her mouth. She sucked him hungrily, and he was soon hard again. After making sure that he was ready, she stood, turning her back to him, and pressed her hips against him.

"I --what do you want me to do, Helena?"

"Isn't it obvious? Fuck me," she said, reaching her hand back and guiding his cock to her pussy.

"But --don't you want a condom?"

"Forget the condom! Just do it. Now!" In a small, far away corner of her mind, Helena knew she would probably regret this later, but her desire and the long period without sex had made her reckless.

Robin, who wasn't thinking too clearly, either, was only too glad to oblige her, as he entered her with one stroke. Helena gasped in pleasure, her position greatly increasing the sensation she felt as he began moving slowly in and out of her. With her hands braced against the shower wall, she pressed backwards to meet his thrusts, pushing his cock inside her as deep as possible. He could feel her urgency, and as he gradually increased the speed of his movements, he whispered,

"I'm going to fuck you 'til you scream, Helena!"

Already close to orgasm, this was all it took to push her over the edge again, and with a moan that quickly became a scream of absolute pleasure, she came. Her contractions were enough to start his own orgasm, and Helena came a second time at the feel of him climaxing inside her.

Exhausted, her body still trembling from the intensity of her orgasms, Helena slumped against the wall, resting her head on the cool tile. Robin leaned against her, catching his breath, wanting to say something to her, but unable to think of anything that didn't sound corny. Before he could come up with the right words, Helena abruptly pushed him away as she fled from the shower, stopping only long enough to grab a towel.

Way to go, Tim! That's twice in one night you've had women run from you. The old Drake charm's working overtime, he thought wryly as he slowly towelled himself dry and put on his costume.

When he walked into the bedroom, he saw Helena standing in front of her mirror. She had put on a robe and was combing her wet hair. He stood behind her, wanting desperately to take her in his arms, but not quite daring to do it.

"This was wrong. It can't happen again," she said, looking at him in the mirror.

At her words Robin felt a weightless, roller-coaster-dropping-down-the-steepest-slope sensation in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't believe he had heard her right, that his ultimate fantasy was over before it had begun. Swallowing hard, he spoke through a mouth suddenly gone dry,

"No. It wasn't wrong. It was wonderful, I'll never forget --"

"You've got to promise you won't come here again," she interrupted, turning around and staring intently into his eyes.

He returned her gaze, searching her face for some emotion, some clue as to her abrupt reversal from willing sexual partner to ice-cold stranger.

"I'm not promising anything. C'mon, Helena, I know you don't mean that. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it, too!"

"I never said I didn't. Do I have to spell it out for you? You're too young. Now, go home; I'm sure it's way past your bedtime!" she started to walk away, but Robin grabbed her arm and, pulling her to him, tried to kiss her.

"Stop it! I'm too tired to fight you again," she put both her hands on his chest and shoved him away.

"But, Helena, I want to see you again --"

"Look, what part didn't you understand? It's over. Go home," hugging herself with crossed arms, she turned her back on him, making her dismissal of him seem all the more final.

Robin stared helplessly at her rigid back for what seemed like an eternity. Then, in a sudden insight, said with more confidence than he felt,

"It's not over with, Helena. We both know it."

Helena hesitated, unmoving, for just the barest of seconds, then walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Suddenly, he was tired, too, and, not knowing what else to do, he decided to let it go for tonight. He left the same way he had come, through the window and down the fire escape. The night had finally cooled off, and as he drove home the moon looked high and far away, already beginning to dim as the eastern sky lightened with a pre-dawn pinkness.

It was close to six a.m. when he climbed back through his bedroom window. The house was dark and quiet, his father and the housekeeper still asleep. He slipped back into his room and fell into bed, exhausted. He had been replaying the night's events over and over in his mind during the drive home, trying to come up with a different ending, but it always came down to the same conclusion: No way it's over yet, Helena. It's not over 'til I say it's over.