Mister Muscle and LoveBug Issue #2: Taking the Bull by the Balls

Chapter One: A Bug in Cheap Clothing

“What the heck are you wearing, Squirt?” I did my best to keep my voice level as I looked her up and down, not even bothering to hide the stern frown creasing my face. At least she had the good manners to blush before she started playing with her zipper. I made a mental note to take her shopping as soon as possible. Apparently, the girl (not that I would ever call her that to her face unless I wanted to deal with her turning her ‘powers of pout’ full blast on me. She insisted that, at 18, she was a woman and that only a pig in the shape of a man would dare refer to her as a girl) didn’t own a single bra or pair of panties.

“My costume. Don’t you just adore it?” She struck a pose, obviously trying to look heroic. I held my smile in check, thinking she looked cute as… well, a bug.

“It doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination.” Is what eventually popped out of my mouth, earning me a beaming smile.

“I know. Isn’t it great?” Her bright blue eyes lit up with enthusiasm. She even forgot to remind me to call her by her proper sidekick name; Love Bug. Disconcertingly, she also forgot to zip up the lower half of her costume and at least pretend to have a modicum of modesty.

“Yeah, great.” I muttered. Not that I wanted to douse her enthusiasm, but being a super hero was a serious job in my book. Radium City, despite its name, could be a grim and gritty place and you almost always got your hands dirty, not to mention other parts of you. Treating it like some reality game fashion show just didn’t fit well with my view of wearing the cape.

 Still, I had to admit, holding in my sigh, that she looked good. Too good, perhaps. If it distracted the thugs and minions we were likely to encounter on patrol, I was all for it. If it distracted me, however, it could become an issue. I’d have keep vigilant or, better yet, just not look if at all possible. Easier said than done, I thought, giving her good looking over.

Most of the capes in my line of work went with a special alloy of breathable latex (Yes, we do get all the best toys). It was surprisingly comfortable and was designed for ease of motion. It could also be amazingly tough. Oh, and it looked good. As Mister Muscle I’d gone with a full suit. It was befittingly somber. Navy Blue with a simple pair of copper colored ‘M’s above over my left pectoral. Paired with matching blue mask, and copper colored boots and gloves, it was simple and a little ‘old school’, just like me.

Love Bug (or simply Bug as I had taken to calling her when out on patrol mostly because it sounded far more professional then most of the names I called her in private) however, was anything if not old school.

For example, we’d been together as a team now for a mere two weeks and she was already on her third costume, each one a little too risqué for my taste, and to be quite blunt, I was beginning to worry about what the rest of the costumed community might be saying behind my back.

For starters, it fit her like a glove. Yes, that was the whole point, and yet…

“I can see your nipples.” I muttered, casting my voice too low for her to hear. As usual, they were extra perky and making obvious tents in her shocking pink latex top. Her symbol covered her right breast, a stylized red heart with cute little bug antennae on it. As for her bottoms? Low slung pink hot pants. With a zipper. Oh, I should mention that her previous costume had been so tight that I could see the pout of her vulva outlined perfectly and had rejected it out of hand when I realized that the synthetic material kept getting sucked up into the crevice of her vagina. She’d thrown a fit, of course, stamping off to her quarters, fueled on by my chuckle.

Her accessories were fairly simple, at least. White knee high platform boots and gloves, a pink domino style mask, and a pair of bug like antennae that peeked up out of her silky mane.

“Don’t you wish you were getting some of this, Muscle-Head?” She quipped, much to my annoyance, mostly because of how close to home her remark hit and the fact that she made a point of staring at my crotch and my slowly growing erections as she said it. The zipper was to blame. I made a hand gesture at her, one that she’d grown used to; Pull your damn zipper up! I swear she did it just to bait me. For once, she complied without comment, simply giving it a quick tug and showing me her pearly whites.

“So, you know the routine…” I started, hands on my hips, looking her over, making sure my expression had an extra helping of serious in it, impressed at her attempt to match it (which, in her case, meant she refrained from running the tip of her pink tongue seductively over her lips).

“Follow instructions no matter what, Mister Muscle.” She said with a sharp nod, her smile fading just a little.

“Good girl.” I told her, patting her on the head, ignoring the look she gave me as best I could. Sometimes she needed a reminder that I could hand it out just as well as I could take it. She should be thankful I didn’t give her nicely rounded rump a smack instead. Trust me, I was tempted.

Chapter Two: Getting a Piece of Brass

“What’s rule number one?” I quizzed her, keeping my smile to myself, knowing, without looking, that she was rolling her eyes at me.

“Always have a backup plan.” She answered without missing a beat.

It was really the only rule you needed in this business, if you planned on making it to retirement, that is. The real reason I’d never taken on a sidekick? I didn’t want the responsibility.

“And rule number two?”

“Do I get a prize if I get them all right? Like you’ll spring for ice cream?”

This time it was my eyes that rolled. Fortunately for her, before I could launch into lecture mode, trouble reared its ugly head.

It was well past midnight and we’d been patrolling the docks based on a tip that something was going to go down tonight. It was a typical summer’s night in Radium City with a northerly wind blowing off the bay bringing the simmering city some well needed relief. The heat was good for business, if you’re in the business of busting bad guys. Something about it brought out the crazy in people and turned them mean and, when they were evil with a capitol ‘E’ in the first place? That’s when I earned my paycheck.

“Suspicious activity at two o’clock, boss.” She whispered, suddenly alert.

My head swiveled slightly right, narrowing my gaze. Nothing. With a sigh, I observed her staring intently towards her left.

“That’s nine o’clock, Squirt.” I had the good grace to keep the smirk from my voice.

“Whatever. Big shiny guy with horns on his head and a trio of minions with matching minion hoodies. They should be locked up for fashion crimes if nothing else.”

“The Brass Bull. Sort of a minor villain here in Radium City. Strictly small time which is perfect for us. Very low risk. Think of it as practice. Anything else?”

I stayed in teaching mode, not seeing any reason to leap into danger. So far, they were just creeping about and weren’t posing an immediate threat to anyone in the area.

“Yeah, Bull Guy is really well hung. I’d be jealous if I were you.”

I chuckled, recognizing The Brass Bull easily enough. He might look impressive, but word on the street was he’d taken to knocking over pharmaceutical shipments and pocketing the little blue pills for himself. Tesla Girl had recently started referring to him as B3. ‘The Blue Ball Bull’.

“Believe me, Squirt. He’s got nothing on me. Come on. Let’s take him down before I feel the need to prove it.”

“It’s Love Bug.” She sighed on my heels as we slid down a handy, industrial sized drain pipe and hit the ground at a distance eating trot. Jealous, my butt.

We went in swinging. Hey, I’m Mister Muscle, not Captain Cerebral. Not to say I don’t play it smart. There was no long winded speech before hand on the errors of evil, just a simple ‘Its pounding time!’ followed by a pounding. I like to keep things simple.

Fists were simple. The fight lasted all of thirty seconds, perhaps less. I didn’t even have time to work up a sweat. When it was all over, I handed his brass ass over to the proper authorities and then perched myself on a convenient roof top to go over some pointers with my protégé.

“Take them down fast and hard, Squirt. I know that some of the capes like to play with them like a cat with a mouse, but that’s not the smart way of doing things. Go for the balls first.”

Perhaps it was a mistake to put it in those terms, especially in light of the sound of her zipping rising and falling. Note to self: suggest a different habit. While I would never advocate smoking, perhaps I could invest in a case of bubble gum or lollipops. I suddenly had a vision of her sucking on a hard candy sucker, her plump lips forming an oval, her tongue teasing over the round cherry red head, the soft sucking plop as she pulled it from her mouth, glistening with her spit….

“Earth to Muscle Head.” She giggled, poking my thickly corded bicep with a bright pink nail.

Clearing my throat, I stared out across the city scape, refusing to look at her, worried about which end of the teeth her zipper tab had paused. For the thousandth time this week I made a mental reminder to take her shopping for panties. Nice, boring, white cotton panties. No way in hell was I going to be caught dead in Victoria’s Secret with this girl buying dainty things. Mister Muscle and ‘dainty’ don’t exactly go hand in hand.

“You looked good out there, you know.”

One thing I had learned, early on, was that she didn’t like long silences. I think they made her nervous and she spent an inordinate amount of time filling them with idle banter. At least it was better than listening to the sound of her zipper.

“Thanks.” I mumbled, trying to hide the grin that threatened to crease my stoic aspect. Much to my chagrin, I flexed my muscles. I should be allowed to show off my physique every once in a while. I’d spent a lot of time perfecting it, after all.

The wind shifted. It wasn’t something I’d normally notice but in the instance, it was hard to ignore. I caught a whiff of her or rather, her fragrance or pheromones or whatever it was she exuded.  It was subtle, unlike the effect it had on my manhood. In the flash of an eye I sported a raging erection. My feigned disinterest in the state of her zipper faded. I needed to confirm what I fervently hoped.

I was not disappointed; it was in the down position, allowing me to see a nice hint of pink just below her smooth mound. I wanted to kiss her, so I did. What I really wanted was to plunge my overheated prick inside of her, cooling it off inside of her wet little pussy. By the way she was struggling with the opening of my costume, I figured she had the same idea.

I still wasn’t sure what the deal was with her scent. All I knew was that it was suddenly infusing me an extra helping of horny. I wanted to take her in the worst possible way.

I let out a growl as I felt my prick spring forth, free at last. Wrapping my huge hands around her narrow waist, my fingers overlapping, I lifted her up until my swollen head was pressing against the dimple of her belly button, the length of it nestled against her slick pink gash.

“Put it in me.” She decreed breathlessly, her own lust obviously matching mine as she did her best to wiggle out of her tight little shorts before wrapping her legs around my thighs.

Normally, I’m a pretty sensitive guy. I know the ladies enjoy a little foreplay and I only buy the ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ brand of Trojans. That all went out the window as I felt her hips sliding against me, her latex covered breast pressing against my broad chest, her heart pounding against mine as the mouth that I’d tried not to envision wrapped around my cock as I lay in bed every night, sucking it like a popsicle…

“God, you’re huge.” She groaned, grinding herself against me, her hands frantically guiding my cock into her gaping snatch.

Some topics just weren’t discussed between superhero and sidekick and sex was definitely a big no-no. I had no idea (although I did have an opinion) of how experienced she was. Nor of what she liked to do, beyond driving me crazy with all her flirtations and out and out exhibitionistic tendencies. Right now, none of it made any difference. I wanted to fuck her. I needed to fuck her. Thankfully, she seemed to be on the same wave length.

“It’s pounding time, Mister Muscle.” She growled, gasping for breath before she plunged her frisky tongue once more into my open mouth. See what I mean?

I tried to be gentle. After all, I was six and a half feet of pure strength while she was four and a half of cute. She was having none of it. There was an audible slurp as she slid down the length of my pole, sheathing me inside of her hot snatch, encasing me inside of her like a second skin. I felt the pulse of her life blood as she showed me what her muscles could do, milking me with a skill that erased any doubt I might have that she was a virgin. ‘Hungry’ was the only word to describe her tight little cunt as I plowed into her, her juices running down my shaft and coating my balls.

There was nothing ‘nice’ about it, merely pure primal lust taking control of both our libidos. We didn’t make love on the rooftop under a starry summer night. We fucked like animals in heat. It was glorious.

“Harder.” She gasped, her teeth sinking into my lower lip as she stared wildly into my eyes.

I gripped her apple shaped ass, beyond caring if I left bruises, and did my best to obey, thrusting myself up into her slick hole harder, faster, deeper, grunting as we rutted, feeling myself building towards a thermonuclear reaction until…

I felt like I must have ripped her open, so powerful was my climax. I came in silence, too focused on filling her with gallons of my super enhanced spunk to waste time with vocalizations. She more than made up for it, screaming like an erotically charged banshee as she went supernova, slamming herself up and down on my cock as our mingled juices sluiced from her cunt and all over my thighs.

Somehow, I managed to remain on my feet afterward, standing, or should I say teetering, with her still impaled on my prick, feeling the squeeze of her arms around my neck, her legs around my thighs. She kissed me. Not a tender kiss, but one that brought me to attention inside of her once more. Her words didn’t help, either.

“I can feel your cum dripping from my pussy lips, Muscle. I’d give anything to be able to eat my own pussy out right now, just so I could taste it…”

The words here barely out of her mouth before my hand was between her thighs scooping thick ropes of pearlescent spew from between her legs. It drooled from my fingertips as I lifted them to her mouth, desire flaring even sharper as she sucked them in. I was reminded of the lollipops she enjoyed, making yet another mental shopping note, crossing out underwear on my list and adding suckers.

“You are a very naughty girl.” I told her, unable to keep from grinning as she made a show of cleaning every last drop of our mingled love juices from my thick fingers.

She answered with a smile that held promises that made my heart thump even harder in my muscle bound chest.

“Lucky for you.” Her words were punctuated with a pucker of lips as she ambushed me with a quick kiss before bounding across the rooftop, her hot pink shorts in one hand, her bare bottom illuminated by the city lights. I wondered if she’d actually taken a course in how to make her ass wiggle so enticingly.

“Race you back to headquarters. Last one back’s a nimrod!” I called out over my shoulder as I sprinted past her at full gait.

“Last one back gets spanked!” She retorted, hot on my heels, still naked from the waist down.

Later, as I had her over my knee, turning her cute little bottom pink, I wondered if she’d deliberately held back at the end. Afterwards, I sent her to her quarters, reminding her that even superheroes needed a good night’s sleep, and retired to mine wearing a satisfied on my normally stoic mug. I could definitely see the benefits of having a hottie for a sidekick. Hopefully, this wouldn’t get too complicated. Who was I kidding? Of course it would. And right there and then, I didn’t give a damn.

“Bring it on.” I mumbled as the sandman pulled me under.