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SYNOPSIS

Grasshopper can leap over buildings with ease. She loves nothing more than the sting of cool night air against her skin as she soars over rooftops. To her, the city is her playground. But when an “electrifying” villain starts playing games with her, will he ruin her fun?

Or will he end up helping her work out some… frustrations?

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EXCERPT

This title contains salty language and lots of graphic superhero sex.

If you are not offended by such things, then by all means scroll down to view the explicit excerpt.

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She squirmed against her restraints as the candle wax pelted her breasts. The drops hardened almost instantly, leaving what looked like permanent tears trailing from her nipples. The man holding the candle wore nothing but leather. Though, that wasn’t saying much. His body harness and mask left nothing to the imagination save whether or not he had a beard.

According to the nametag clipped to the crumpled blouse on the floor, the horizontal girl’s name was Mary. Slave-boy, on the other hand, would have to remain a mystery.

He tilted the candle upright and placed it on the nightstand beside the bed. Once his hands were free, he reached behind his head and unclasped the latex gag hiding the mouth hole on his buckled hood. He tossed it aside.

Yes, he definitely had a beard.

Slave-boy leaned over and gave each and every hardened bit of wax he could find a gentle kiss. Mary writhed. When there was no more wax to conquer, he looked up into Mary’s eyes. She nodded and smiled expectantly. Knowing exactly what she wanted, Slave-boy kissed a line down the center of her naked body, over her sternum, past her bellybutton, and beyond.

Her back arched at the first touch of his tongue to her womanhood. The show was too good, I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached up and unzipped the bottom of my dark green latex cat suit. My landing strip appeared to the night. No, I wasn’t wearing my usual thong. I had skipped the underwear, so what I was planning on doing next would be possible in my current outfit. Watching with lust in my eyes as Slave-boy trailed his lithe digits down Mary’s porcelain thighs, I licked my middle finger. And when he slid two fingers inside her, I placed my now moistened tall man on my hood and pressed.

Mary and I shared a moment of shuddering.

Using slow but hard motions, Slave-boy twisted his fingers in and out of Mary. I couldn’t hear every word that came out of her mouth, but at one point she was loud enough to inform me that Slave-boy’s name was actually Roger. Roger was magic to watch. Even I said his name, combined with a few choice vulgarities, when I became aroused enough for direct clitoral contact.

Then abruptly, he stopped. He pulled his hand away from that poor girl and stood up. Roger and Mary stared at each other. Seconds that seemed like hours passed. As the tension built, I continued to work on myself. The time droned on, and I wished I were a telepath so I could will him to get back to work.

Finally Mary said something. Her words were too soft for me to hear, but the lip movements were unmistakable. “Fuck me,” she pleaded.

Roger just smiled. Oh god, please fuck her. For both our sakes. I rubbed myself harder, faster, waiting for his response.

“Fuck me,” she said again, squirming a bit on the bed.

Roger was playing coy. He made no move toward her.

“Please. Please fuck me.” She was begging with her entire body.

For all I knew, that would have been the last time she had to ask. I mean, third time’s the charm, right? But it was one time too many for me. I was too close and too involved in the show. I snapped.

“Fuck her, goddammit!”

I was just as startled as they were. No, wait. I take that back. They were way more startled. The looks on their faces proved that. I couldn’t blame them. Most people don’t expect to see girls in latex hanging upside-down outside their tenth story window. Once the two fuck-birds realized what was actually going on, Roger rushed to the window and closed the curtains.