Archive of Our Own ^beta

The ring feels heavy as Hal Jordan tightens his grip on the steering wheel. Very little scares him, he is one of the most exceptional individuals in the known universe for his ability to overcome fear. Hal has shown his bravery in so many ways: flying experimental aircraft, taking on alien despots, risking his life, and risking his respect in his younger, hot shot playboy days. But tonight, he feels a weight that carries from his stiff shoulders all the way down to his arms, to the ring that he bears the responsibility of worlds with, as he pulls up to his best friend's home.

"We don't have to do this, you know," Carol Ferris reassures him from the passenger seat.

"He's my best friend, Carol," Hal responds.

"That's not an answer, Hal," she replies, exasperation slipping into her voice. "Of course he's your best friend. We love Ollie and Dinah both. But if you're uncomfortable...well, he's your best friend. He'll understand."

"You want to do this."

"I'm interested. That's different. I don't want to do this unless you want to do it with me."

Hal smiles at her. He knows he can get there, if he tries. A part of him is excited for this. He loves adventure, exploring the unknown and rising to the challenge. After all he's seen, all he's done, this is so small in the scope of the universe. But that's why he's nervous--this is close, intimate, personal, things he's long struggled with.

He breathes in deeply, and as he exhales, he lets all his tension go. It flows out of him and a self-assured energy flows in. He feels himself becoming less stiff, his grip becoming less tight, all except for a little knot of stress right under his ring.

"Remember when I was a hotshot spending every weekend in Vegas? That guy wouldn't think twice about something like this."

Carol smiles back at him. After all these years, trials, tribulations, near-death experiences, and so much love, she knows his heart. She can tell if he's lying, to her or to himself, and he isn't. He wants to try for her, so in turn, she'll do everything she can to make this easier for him. "I do. What a twerp!

"Let's get moving, Highball."

"After you, Ms. Ferris."

They get out of the car at the same time and approach the old Queen estate. It's no Wayne manor, but it'd be diminishing to describe it as anything less than palatial. Hal's not entirely sure how it came back into Ollie's possession, be it nostalgia or some strange Queen family politicking, but he's glad Ollie and Dinah have made use of the place. Ollie's bleeding heart is so quick to run to cheap apartments to be like one of "the people," but most people Hal knows would jump at a chance to live someplace like this.

As they approach the door, Hal shakes himself out once more, trying to fully free himself from any feeling of apprehension. "Last chance, flyboy", Carol teases. "Are you scared?"

"Never." Hal flashes her a smile.

"Geez, is it a crisis? I almost never see so many do-gooders in one place," Carol muses.

Without a doubt, this is one of the most eclectic who's who assemblages of costumed heroes to grace the world. At least, without an urgent matter of heroics at hand.

Hal immediately spies the seven foot tall, green frame of Swamp Thing and the black-and-white hair of his wife, Abigail Arcane. They're talking with their old friend, of sorts, John Constantine, and his on-again, off-again flame, Hal's fellow Justice Leaguer, Zatanna Zatara.

On a nearby couch, Shayera Hol, Sue Dinby, and Mera sit together catching up and gossiping. Hal's astonished to see Shayera and Mera, considering their husbands' animosity toward Ollie most times, but it's a party and Dinah's good word surely went a long way for them all. Quickly, Scott Free and Ralph Dinby arrive with drinks, looking to join the conversation.

"Where do you think everyone el--" CRASH!

Without thinking, Hal and Carol summon their costumes and the Green Lantern and Star Sapphire rush to another room to see what the commotion is and if their aid is needed.

In a split second they arrive and their fears are instantly allayed. Of course, this mansion is currently one of the most secure locations on Earth and the crash is the result of friendly roughhousing. Apparently most of the party has divided into the living room for light conversation and the library they now find themselves in has become a den of tough people doing tough things. On a sturdy table, Big Barda and Zannah are locked in an arm-wrestling match, while Arthur Curry, Carter Hol, Cole Cash, Rick Tyler, and Maxima look on. Floating along the shelves, Majestros seems more concerned with actually examining Ollie's books than the commotion below him. And at the back of the room, the source of the crash. Jesse Chambers helps an unfamiliar, buxom blonde to her feet, having seemingly been tossed into a bookcase. A weedy little nerd stands by looking on.

"Well, it wouldn't be a power party if someone didn't get tossed into something," Carol says mockingly, powering down back into her fashionable black dress.

Once more, Hal feels himself start to ease. This is good. A bunch of attractive heroes without any sidekicks or Titans, well, except Jesse, but she has long straddled the generational lines and earned her place as a contemporary. But where are the hosts?

A hand claps his shoulder enthusiastically. "Glad you could make it, pal," Oliver Queen says, dressed in a fashionable turtleneck and playing playboy.

Hal hugs his friend. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Ha! We both know you would!" Ollie laughs, mouth perfectly framed by his Van Dyke beard. "A dozen Lanterns on or near Earth at any time, and you'd still rather be out there, hot-doggin' and savin' the world, than here with me and your beautiful lady.

"But, I appreciate the sentiment, Hal." Hal rolls his eyes, despite the fact that Ollie's right. Ollie doesn't notice, having turned his attention to kissing Carol's hand, "Enchante, Ms. Ferris. We are so honored that you'd join our debauchery this evening."

Carol hugs Ollie, one hand around his broad shoulders, the other taking a quick squeeze of his tight ass. She kisses his cheek and whispers into his ear, "Unlike Hal, I actually wouldn't miss it."

"Oh ho ho! Not so fast, Carol! You gotta wait and see if you and me...

"...Hal still has his keys, doesn't he?" Ollie turns back to look at Hal, playfully judging him. Hal puts his hands up defensively as his costume retreats. Carol drapes herself on Ollie's back.

"To be fair, we heard a crash and had to check it out," Carol teases.

Ollie gives the room a big thumbs up. "Everybody still having fun in here?" The crowd around the arm-wrestlers give vague cheers of appreciation before being once more locked in the competition, Barda's strength clearly greater, but Zannah's technique preventing either of them from moving a millimeter.

At the back of the room, Athena, the blonde, has been righted, but is still a little woozy as she shoots Ollie a thumbs up in return. Myron, the nerd, stands next to her, yelling back to Ollie. "Sorry for the damage, Mr. Queen! Once Athena's shaken off the birds, with her strength and my know-how, we'll have it fixed up right in a jiffy!"

Ollie holds up a hand to stop him, then points over their shoulders where Jesse puts the finishing touches on the rebuilt and reshelved bookcase at superspeed. Myron looks on in astonishment. "No worries, kids! Looks like Jesse's got it--thanks, Jess! You just enjoy yourselves!"

"Thanks, Ollie! I just love to party!" MWAH. Athena blows Ollie a big exaggerated kiss. "Aww...Hey Myron, where'd the birdies go? You don't think they ran away, do you?!"

With that, Ollie throws an arm around Hal and Carol and begins leading them away, back through the house. "Alright, let's go get you two liquored up!"

"Who were--?" Hal starts to ask.

"Merryman and Dumb Bunny of the Inferior Five."

"The who?"

Ollie chuckles. "They're small timers, but, well, we needed another couple. Came down to them or Iris and Squarey Allen and you saw her..." Taking his arms off Hal and Carol, he mimes Athena's large breasts. "They're good kids. Peers. Like Jesse or Dinah, their folks fought alongside the original JSA...I think."

Unable to help himself, Hal leans in to ask, "And you're sure she's not...zonked?"

Ollie and Carol burst into laughter. "Brother, I'm sure you’re the only person who still calls it 'zonked.' But she's just...like that."

"I think it's sweet," Carol says. "But they do know what a key party is, right, Oliver?"

Ollie pinches his fingers together as if holding a keyring. "They do, but since Hal's aren't in the bowl, not sure I can say the same for you. Good thing the drop off is on our way to the kitchen!"

Just like that, it's done. The keys have been dropped in a wooden bowl, and with a quick shake from Ollie to mix them up more, they're in it. No going back now. The intrepid trio makes their way to the kitchen, finally spying their other host, Dinah Lance working on a charcuterie board.

"Hal, Carol, welcome! Glad you could make it!" Dinah says without looking up from her project, adjusting the cheeses just so. "I'm finishing up here, but Ollie can make you drinks."

"Thanks for having us, Dinah," Hal says.

"Ollie, can I get a Tom Collins, and a seven and seven for Highball?"

Ollie opens up the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of alcoholic kombucha, Green Wilds. "I was just gonna pull out another 'buch for myself, pretty bird. Wasn't really planning on making drinks..."

With but a thought, Carol summons up two dexterous pink hands that get to work making their drinks. She leans close to Dinah, intimate but not interfering in her work. "Careful, Ollie. She's not going to bed with you tonight."

"I know, that's why I can get away with it!"

Dinah puts her hands up, having achieved perfection with the array of meats, cheeses, fruits, and vegetables on the board in front of her. "So, has Ollie told you why we're back at the old estate yet?"

"He hasn't. Do tell."

Dinah and Carol quickly exchange kisses on the cheek. She hugs Hal. "Documents turned up showing it's still his and he has this thoughtful notion of giving the land back..."

With a pop, Ollie gets his bottle open. "But...turns out Grundy's squatting in the Arrowcave. Seems pretty docile, but hard to turn over land with a super monster living in the basement full of weapons."

"Is he going to be joining us tonight?" Carol jokes.

"Truthfully, I'm kind of hoping all the commotion will spook him away," Ollie replies.

"Sorry to interrupt," Abigail interjects, poking her head through the door between the kitchen and living room. "Do you have any whiskey?"

A third pink hand emerges from Carol's ring as the first two serve her and Hal their drinks. It grabs the bottle from Hal's seven and seven. Dinah and Ollie become more formal, doing their part to play host. "Sure, Abby," Dinah says. "Ice?"

"Please! And for two! One for Constantine and one for Z."

"Anything for you," Ollie asks.

"Do you have beer?"

Ollie taps his bottle of kombucha, showing off. "No, sorry. Forgot to stock up and all I'm drinking these days is alcoholic kombucha." He drinks for effect.

Abigail looks on, wide-eyed. "Oh, Green Wilds, huh. I might take it slow, Ollie.

"That's Alec's piss."

Ollie does a major spit take, kombucha spilling from his mouth and getting lost in his Van Dyke. Everyone else in the kitchen laughs. "Kidding!" Abigail announces to another roar of laughter. "Actually, I'll take one of those."

Dinah takes the charcuterie board and between Abigail and Carol and Carol's extra hands, the three women rejoin the party in the living room with drinks and food. Alone in the kitchen, Hal hands Ollie a towel to wipe off the excess kombucha still in his facial hair.

"C'mon, pal, let's get you cleaned up and then we can really get the party started."

"You're all despicable."

After another hour of socializing, everyone moves to the living room and it's time for the evening's main activity to begin. Ollie stands at the front of the room, holding court. Dinah holds the bowl of keys.

"Thanks for joining us, all!" Ollie speechifies. "My pretty bird'll draw last since we're hosting this little shindig. Place is plenty big, so everyone should have a room available for you. You know the drill, but just in case, one of our lovely ladies will come up, pull out a set of keys, and the owner of the keys is their partner for the night." Ollie flashes a smile, pleased with himself. "May your aim be as true as my own."

"And, given the nature of our business," Dinah chimes in, "If there's any sort of body-swapping, brainwashing, extradimensional or interterrestrial kidnapping, clones, robots, robot-clones, or cataclysmic universe-ending threats, we stop." The room is filled with quiet nods and a few cheers of agreement. It's no wonder Dinah's chaired the League so much before. Her words instantly grip attention, a natural leader. "So, any volunteers?"

Athena's hand shoots straight up and most every eye in the room notices how her chest bounces as it does. "Me! Me!" With a wave assurance from Dinah, Athena bounds up to the front of the room. All eyes are on her as she pulls out the first keyring, with only a single key and a pentagram keychain attached.

Constantine gives a nod and puts two fingers up. "That'd be mine. Lucky chap to start."

"Oh boy!" Athena picks Constantine up from where he's sitting, cradling him in her arms like a bride being carried over the threshold. "We're gonna have so much fun, Mr. Constantinople!"

"I'm sure we are, luv." Constantine motions around the room. "Where exactly are the rooms, Queen?"

Ollie points down the hallway to another part of the house. "Let's put you in the east wing. Down the hall, last door on your left."

"Cheers, all!"

Athena blows a final kiss over her shoulder before they depart. "Bye, Myron, baby! I love you!"

The selection process continues. Zatanna goes next, her partner already taken, and pulls a practical set of keys. As she and Ralph depart, Sue steps up. She pulls not keys, but a ball of moss. And so on, Abigail pulling Carter, Shayera pulling Arthur, Mera pulling Rick, Jessie pulling Scott, Barda pulling Majestros, Maxima pulling Cole, until only six remain: Zannah, Myron, Hal, Carol, Ollie, and Dinah. Zannah makes her selection and pulls out a collection of five keys with a 5-shaped keychain.

"That's mine," Myron says blushing.

Zannah looks unimpressed, towering over the slight frame of Myron. "Room?"

"We'll get you in the last room downstairs. Down the western hall, second door on the right," Ollie says. "Don't use the first. That's my study and if you hit the wrong thing in there, we've got a Grundy problem."

"Athena's practically an amazon, so..." Myron says, voice trailing off as he and Zannah leave.

"Well..." Ollie says, looking around at the remaining participants.

Carol stands up and puts her hand in the bowl. "I guess it's a foregone conclusion, but..." She pulls out a key shaped like an arrow. "Is this for the Fortress of Solitude, or..."

"All me, baby!" She and Ollie stand together intimately. "Pretty bird, why don't you take Hal up to ours? Carol and I can start here."

"C'mon, Hal," Dinah says, grabbing his wrist and leading him out of the room. And as they leave, the subtle pink glow keeping Hal's keys firmly placed against the bottom of the bowl disperses.

"If it's too much, we don't have to do anything you don't want." Dinah stops them before opening the door. But to Hal, this is the best case scenario.

"No, um...Dinah, I want..."

"Yeah? What?"

"You and Ollie are...fun. Do you have any..." He hesitates. But if he's going to do this, he's going to do it right. "...Toys?"

Dinah can't help but smile, just a little. "You and Carol have the most powerful tool in the universe on your fingers and you're asking if I have toys?" Hal keeps his face straight, despite the intense urge to chide her about that sort of recklessness. "Well, of course, you aren't going to use the ring for that...you aren't Guy Gardner...but, yes. Yes I do. What do you have in mind?"

"I...don't know..."

"This is a huge step. I know you trust me and I trust you. If it's too much, I'll say no, but you can--"

"Dinah, it's not what I want to do to you. It's what I want you to do to me."

Her eyes go wide and her mouth perfectly mimics her response. "Oh."

"Handcuffs maybe. And a..." he trails off for a second, before whispering, "...A strap-on. Do you have those?"

"Hal, we're going to have so much fun."

In a matter of minutes, Hal Jordan is nude, hands cuffed behind his back, laying prone on his best friend's bed as his best friend's wife looks down on him dressed in nothing but a leather jacket, fishnet leggings, and a harness with a four-inch smooth dildo sticking out of it. Yellow, the color of his weakness.

"Are you ready, Hal?"

"As I'll ever be, D."

"How about that bidet, huh? Even if we're getting rid of this place soon, the first thing we did was upgrade to one of those fancy toilets. Feel tidied up?"

Hal is starting to get nervous. Why is she delaying like this? And she looks so good, so powerful, his cock can't help but throb in anticipation. He powers through. "Heh, yeah. Very helpful."

She puts her hands on his calves, spreading them and pinning him further against the bed. She leans in close, starring deeply into his eyes. "Alright, Hal. Here's how we'll start. I'll tell you everything I'm about to do before I do it. If you don't want anything, just say no. If anything hurts or is too intense or you just don't want to do it, just say stop. We're sharing control. Got it?"

"Shouldn't it be a different word? Like a safeword? What if I'm saying 'don't stop' and you misunderstand?"

"Another safeword works just fine. Something easy to remember and hard to mistake." She pauses, thinking. "What about pilot?"

"Pilot. Sure, I can remember that."

"Good. Glad we're settled." Dinah changes her grip, adjustment him until his knees are level with his shoulders, his ass unimpeded on the edge of the bed. "Now, I'm going to have a bit of a hard time speaking as I'm eating your ass, but if you need anything, just let me know." She settles on her knees and runs her tongue over his asshole.

The first licks are so quick. Just over the surface, a gentle tease. Lightly marking the territory, but not exploring it. Then he feels her lips pucker, like she's giving it a kiss, and she opens her mouth more and starts frenching it. Her warm mouth and wet tongue press on, run over, and begin to push into his ass. She pulls away to kiss his left cheek and bite his right. The feeling of her teeth on his flesh makes Hal's dick twitch. Dinah notices.

"Did you like that, Hal?"

"Y-yeah."

She bites down again, firm, but not hard, and higher, right where his butt and thigh meet. Hal twitches again. "Okay, this is working. But I'm worried my mouth's a little dry. I'm going to suck on you for just a minute, to get the saliva going."

With that, she wraps her mouth around his cock. There isn't any slow build up like with Hal's ass. In a breath, Dinah takes his length in her mouth and begins to bob her head up and down on it. Her tongue presses against his shaft. She takes him further, until his balls can feel her lower lip and she makes a "Uhuhk" sound. Then she stays there for a couple of seconds, until she's made that same gagged noise three times, and pulls back up. She releases, slowly working her way back up to the head, tongue running up the length to tease the slit. Her breath through her nose is loud and just before removing herself entirely, she slides all the way back down to choke again. On and on she repeats, until the fifth cycle where she finally lets his wet, throbbing cock fully drop from her mouth.

Hal is not sure where to look, has tried looking everywhere but at Dinah as this happens, but he can't help it. Her mouth is barely open, but thick strands of drool connect her to his cock. She makes eye contact, knowing he's seeing her and she's seeing him, and closes her mouth. Her cheeks puff slightly, as she works something between them. It's sexy and a little bit silly and she flashes him another gorgeous smile and spits right on his asshole.
"Going back in," she says and so quickly, she goes to work. With the extra lubrication, she varies her technique more, a mix of longer and shorter licks, of increased pressure as she opens his hold with her tongue and feels like she's getting it slowly but surely looser and wider. At first it's just the tip, but slowly more and more of her tongue feels like it's filling him up. Surely she can't be getting too much of it in, but every fraction of an inch is a revelation. Her slick, wet tongue makes everything wet and Hal becomes aware he's started sweating. As a bead rolls down his hip and hits his wrist just over where he's handcuffed, he realizes for the first time that he doesn't know how long his hands beneath him have been desperately gripping the sheets.

His attention shifts again as she speaks. "Okay, now that you're nice and wet and starting to stretch, I'm going to lube up and put a finger in." Hal nods, a soft grunt of assurance escaping him. He hears a small squelch of a bottle being squeezed and feels Dinah's fingertip against his opening. "Let me know how it feels." She only gets a knuckle deep, barely more than her tongue, but his mind explodes in sensation.

"Good. Good. I can take more." He feels her push deeper, to the second knuckle. "M...more!"

"You're still pretty tense, Hal. If you want more, you gotta trust me and relax."

Hal takes a deep breath and wills himself to relax. He's in good hands and good hands are in him. But as he thinks about becoming more malleable, his body tightens harder. "It's okay that it's tight, just as long as it feels good. I'm going to try two fingers now."

And when she does, Hal truly knows for the first time all night that this was the right decision. With just two, he feels so warm and full inside. Any potential problems, hesitations, are gone. He feels her fingers flex, stroking him as if to encourage him that it's okay to feel this safe, this good.

"Another," Hal hears himself say and Dinah happily obliges. His eyes close. His toes curl, intensity gripping his feet. His fingers grasp at the sheets tighter than he had the steering wheel earlier, but now in pleasure. The heaviness he had felt under his ring fully disperses, replaced by all the other sensations flowing through his body.

He feels her move her grouped fingers together inside of him and he feels him grip her, not wanting to let her pull out. He smells the mix of laundry detergent from the sheets and sex and sweat. He feels it cool him even as his insides are so warm. His cock twitches and throbs again, still wet from her mouth. And then Dinah's voice cuts through it all. "How does it feel, Hal?"
"So good," he mumbles, barely able to get the words out.

"What? Speak up, please. Are you liking it?"

"Mmm! Y-y-yes!" He cries. Hal hears a soft click and, unsure what it is, feels his ring prepare for whatever situation he'll find himself in when he finally opens his eyes.

"Good. Then let's take things to the next level," Dinah says.

In another room, Zatanna mouth is stretched wide, just like her partner. On either side of her mouth, Ralph has hooked his pointer and middle fingers all the way back to her molars. His thumbs are gently stroking her cheeks while his ring fingers hold her chin in place. His pinkies have elongated down her chin, her neck, her chest, down to her nipples where they've wrapped around, keeping them constantly stimulated, hard enough that they're starting to ache. It feels so good as any movement of her head pulls on them, and as she bounces up and down on Ralph's cock as she straddles him, his natural tautness amplifies any shiver or shake.

His cock perfectly shapes itself to her pussy, filling her all the way to her womb. It's so responsive, as she tightens, first it narrows, giving her muscles even more room to constrict, then it engorges again, pushing against every part of them at once. The cycle has confused her body, unsure whether she's cum many times, or is still on a hyper-extended first orgasm of the night.

Zatanna must look a mess. She can feel the tears that've welled in the corners of her eyes, slowly starting to drip down her cheeks as proof of her overwhelming ecstasy. Her plump lower lip is positively wet from the drool that has unintentionally soaked over it.

The next time she cums, or feels her pussy quaking anew, even if part of something that's already started, she looks down at Ralph. That's what truly makes this unlike anything else she's ever experienced. All this, and his head is right there between her legs, eating her out as she rides him reverse cowgirl. It is incredible. But, she still wants more.

Summoning all her strength from years of having to verbalize in the strangest of scenarios, she half-moans, "Ralph!"

He stops instantly, raising his head to meet her eyes. "Hey Zee! I'm a little impressed you can still speak!

Unknowingly, stopping was the most intense thing he could do in the moment. Losing the extra focus on her clit, the pulse of his cock, her body finally catches up to all the sensation, sending a new wave of pleasure coursing through her. Still she persists. "Oot sdrawkcab!"

"What's up? Need to stop? Can I get you some water or something?"

He begins to withdraw his fingers from her mouth, but she quickly puts her tongue to them to try to hold them in place. He pauses. "No, no. I want more." Balancing herself with one hand, she brings the other up to tap the side of her nose.

Ralph's eyes widen slightly. "Oh, wow. Sue must've told you about..." He hesitates for a second. "It's going to be pretty intense, okay? If you can't talk, make sure you use the tapping pattern we worked out earlier."

With that, his head returns between her legs and his nose starts to change shape. She is able to watch it become longer, thinner, and start to wiggle before it plunges in beside his cock. Zatanna thought she had been filled, stretched to her limit before, but this is so much more.

"Triuqs." And she does. Her wetness expelling itself hot and warm all over Ralph's face and cock. Her eyes roll back, her head lolls back, pulling on her nipples once again. Her whole body tremors.

This proves to be too much for Ralph. He pulls out, his nose still extended and wiggling, his cock momentarily shortening to get out, then growing massively, across her pussy lips, across her clit, up her belly, between her breasts, until finally finding her held open mouth. Resting against her lower lip, she extends her tongue to get a taste--it tastes like him, like her, like her squirt and drool and sweat. And then it tastes sweet as he cums in her mouth. It starts slowly but builds, working it's way up through his massive cock. Zatanna decides to help it along, and herself, grinding her clit against it, squeezing it between her breasts, and sucking as best she can with his fingers still in her mouth.

Finally, he finishes. She swallows a little, unintentionally, then feels him finally start to retract back into the proportions of a regular man. She waits the few moments it takes, then shows him his work. The runs down her cheeks from her make-up being washed away by sweat and tears. The drool and cum she pushes out to add to the mess of fluid that runs from her lip all over her chin and drips down onto her chest. Her body still quivers.

"Did you have fun, Zee?"

She nods. Then, with a little bubble of saliva and cum, she says "Pu-naelc." Suddenly, she looks fresh as the minute they walked in the room, besides the squirm of her hips and the still unsettled throb in her pussy. She smiles. "Ready for round 2?"

Ralph's eyes go wide again and he chuckles. "Maybe another couple of minutes. Let's let your body calm down a bit. C'mere." She settles against him, one arm wrapping from her shoulders down around her whole body in a gentle curve to her ankles. For the moment, they know peace, before they begin again.

Meanwhile, Sue is restrained. She sits on her calves, knee-to-toe cushioned by the softest, freshest-scented grass she has ever known. Vines bind her, caressing the tops of her thighs, her hips, her butt, her waist. She feels her ribs, her chest, her pussy being cradled by the taut flesh of the plants. And all along the length of her restraints, she feels the life of the plant. Leaves unfurl along her breastbone. Moss softly tickles the base of her spine. Atop her head is a crown of flowers in full bloom, though she cannot see them, or anything, through he thick curtain of ivy that drapes perfectly over the apples of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

She hears a rustling to her side, almost like that of an animal in the bush, and adjusts her head and weight to follow it as best she can.

As she does so, she feels the thing she's been waiting for between her legs. Smooth wood waits, only prevented from slipping into her by the careful placement of two knots in the vines on her upper thighs. Much as she loves her husband, and is impressed with his feats of flexibility, this sort of sensual bondage usually results in his fingers or other anatomy knotted up in the rope. And, one time, twisted purely with himself.

She hears the rustling again and rethinks her description. It's not an animal in the bush. It's the sound of leaves themselves brushing against each other. This time, it's accompanied by the smell, like a summer day in Florida. He smells hot and musky and a little swampy, but balanced with an earthy freshness of crisp leaves and new blooms. The crunch of his steps ends just in front of her.

"Eat," a voice like wind through trees commands. Sue opens her mouth and takes a bite of an unknown fruit. It's sweet and fragrant, with a slight sour note. Hints of lime, pineapple, and cardamom on her palette all at once. As she takes a second bite, her senses adjust. At first, she thinks the ivy must be parting, but she can't see exactly. All the plants binding and around her, she can feel them like extensions of her own body. She feels the grass that her legs are resting on as much, if not more, than the legs themselves. She feels the trees outside, on the grounds of the estate. The little cactus she keeps on the kitchen counter at home. She feels her partner, who she is looking at without seeing, feeling without touching, a part of--one with--without being.

Sue can't help it anymore, for whatever of Sue is present. She is the unfurling of a monstera leaf. The flowering of a tomato. The resigned waiting of a palm trying to grow towards sunlight in the night. And all at once, the knob of wood below her, the branch so slick and smooth she'd think it was carved if she wasn't experiencing it's incredibly natural growth, slips inside and fills her.

The sound of leaves blown by the wind and crunching against each other, rustling and rubbing and breaking, fills her ears once more. It's loud, intense, dry. And through their connection, Sue realizes the Swamp Thing is moaning. Or perhaps, she is moaning through him.

" This is...amazing," she says. Or thinks. Or feels. However it has been communicated, he understands.

"It is a taste of the Green."

"This is what you experience all the time?"

"Yes. And no. A more...limited form. Concentrated."

"Well, this is truly special. Thank you for sharing it with me."

"Shh...Experience it with me." And Sue does. Her bindings tighten and loosen as she rocks against the wooden pseudo-cock beneath her. Sensation runs through her that tastes like honeysuckle. She blossoms. He is consumed by birds and bugs and beasts. She creaks in the wind. His roots plunge deep into the soil, making a permanent home between sunlight and water. She feels fruits drop from her branches as sap leaks out of the Swamp Thing. She is Sue Dinby. She is Swamp Thing. She is her restraints. She is Alec Holland, The Green, the grass. And as soon as the sensation had begun, she feels it start to fade as she returns to her flesh. As she understands the sap and pollen covering her body with her human senses, she comes so passionately against the life inside her.

As Carter Hol thrusts into her, Abigail Arcane considers that this is the first time she's had sex with a human--is he human?--in years. And it is the first time, maybe in her entire life, that she is fully cognizant in the moment that he is a near-total stranger. She believes he and her husband's paths had crossed briefly in the past, but their first interaction was in the living room in another near-stranger's house a few hours before having sex. She's shocked to find it fairly refreshing.

He's hot. His physicality is pleasurable, he's got a broad chest, symmetrical nipples, muscular arms, legs, and abs. His dick's on the larger side and while it doesn't totally fit inside her, the part that does feels good as he moves his hips in strong, quick thrusts. But what strikes Abby is that he's warm. He's hairy all over, from the pokey stubble on his chin to the thick bush at his base all the way down to his toes. She has her own body hair, but it naturally concentrates just a few places and is largely very light. And Alec, well, she's never known him with hair.

Between his hair and the effort he is exerting, despite his fitness, he's already sweating. As she runs her fingers along his back, and as he fills her as best he can with each thrust, she feels the growing warmth between their bodies and that is so erotic to her in this moment.

"Here, hold on," he says. His tone is commanding, and he doesn't wait for her to respond with her words. His arms wrap around her as he lifts her from the bed. She does as instructed, holding close to him, legs crossed behind his back, just under his firm ass. They're chest to chest and she feels his warmth spreading out against her even more as they press together. She feels the pulsing blood running through his body, spreading heat to where their flesh meets.

He trusts up inside her and there's a harsh sound of wind being pushed and feathers working together. She almost loses her grip in the force of the artificial wind, but she holds even tighter to him and feels in his fingers that he will not let her go. Again it happens, thrust, flap, and again until he's reached as high as he can go in this room. He's fucking her in the air. He's playing with their temperatures--still so hot inside and where her breasts are pushed against him, but her arms and legs and his back are cooled by the way his wings force the air in the room to adjust around them, the way they cool the sweat on his body.

Then he does the unexpected and wraps his wings around them both. No longer providing upward momentum, they drop, but his body is ready and he lands perfectly on his feet, providing one last powerful thrust that penetrates her down his whole length. She is astonished that she stretches so fully to let him in, and wonders if a slighter woman would have been able to handle such a feat.

Carter's wings unfurl and he begins to lower her back to the bed while pulling his hips back, but Abby is twitching so hard and won't let go. She's about to cum on his cock. God, how long had it been since she had done that. She's not finished, but she feels him pull out. She reaches out to stroke it and after only two quick caresses down his thick length, he lets loose. A jet of cum shoots across her body, a trail leading from her naval to her clavicle.

He collapses to his knees, spent. But he isn't quite done. He puts his hands on either side of her waist and kisses her belly. "Did you finish?"

Abby's pussy throbs. She bites her lip and shakes her head. "No, sorry."

"Do you want me to..."

"Just hold my hand, would you?" He gives her another quick peck, compassionate, but not romantic. Carter removes his right hand from her waist to hold hers and makes hard eye contact. Abby giggles to herself slightly realizing he's watching her like a hawk. How appropriate.

With her free hand, she starts to masturbate. Her fingers slide inside herself, her palm gently grinding against her clit. Now this feels right and familiar. As she feels her wetness, her own inner heat, the hair of her own body, she thinks about this experience. She likes the heat of his hand in hers, the feeling of their fingers interlaced. She likes the heat of his glare. She likes the warms of his seed--both a bird and plant pun, she laughs to herself again--across her body. She likes thinking about how it would have filled her.

And she thinks about her husband. About the woman he is giving a taste of the Green and the small part of her that feels that connection in this moment. She thinks about the woman's husband, himself off with yet another, who has been with Constantine who has been with her and who is with yet another. She thinks about Carter's partner, and the other partners and their other partners and this grand web of life and heat and finally she cums.

When Hal opens his eyes, he's happily surprised to find Carol has entered the room. "C-C-Carol, what're you...doing here?"

"Oh Hal," she says, sliding onto the bed behind him. "I thought you might want me here."

"What about Ollie?"

"What about me?" Ollie asks from the door. Upon seeing Ollie's nudity, Hal realizes that they're all undressed except for Dinah. He blushes red. What is happening here?

"Don't worry about him," Carol reassures. She picks Hal's head up and puts it in her lap. "Just focus on me and Dinah for right now, okay?"

Hal's eyes glance all over, but when they meet Carol's, he knows he has to trust her in this. "Okay."

Dinah crawls up onto him. Their faces get close as she says, "Okay, I need you to open wide, Hal. I'm going to fuck your mouth."

Once again, whatever apprehensions Hal might have fade away. He wanted to experiment and here is the woman he loves, come to watch, to participate gently, to support him as the single woman he trusts most in this world offers to teach him about all new pleasures.

He and Carol lock eyes and she smiles down on him, his head softly cushioned on her thighs. He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue and lets Dinah stick her dildo in it.

She starts slow, letting him get used to it. This is new to Hal and while he's certainly been on the receiving end plenty of times, he realizes he doesn't exactly know how to do it. His tongue curiously runs along the surface. He runs it along his upper lip, his lower lip. He closes his mouth around it, sucking in. He blows on it, seeing if that does, well, anything. Around that point, he also realizes that it's silicone, the things that work on him may not be quite as effective on a toy.

But as he explores, he becomes more confident. He finds blowing and sucking brings him pleasure in how it moves his saliva, how it heats and cools the silicone. He lets spit collect in his mouth and rubs it on with his tongue. He massages it with his lips, trying to be careful with his teeth. He starts to combine the sensations. He focuses totally in on it, the black strap around her waist, the fishnets pressing into her hips and thighs, and the yellow toy that plunges in and out of his sight as he moves his head and neck to suck on it.

He hears a moan and looks back up. Carol and Dinah look down on him together, heads close. Their hands run over each other. Carol cups Dinah's tits in her jacket, squeezing them. Dinah has a hand against Carol's neck, the other just above Hal's head. He can't track it all the way, but he knows she must be touching Carol's clit. They're touching each other watching him suck a dick.

"Look, baby, you got the hang of it," Carol says breathy.

"You want me to take over for a bit, Hal?" Dinah asks.

He nods and feels Dinah adjust slightly above him as she straddles his chest. Fuck, he wishes his hands weren't bound beneath him so he could hold her fat ass instead of just feeling it occasionally brush against him. Then she starts rocking her hips back and forth. Carol puts a hand in his hair, fingers twining through it. Then together they start fucking his face, Dinah setting the rhythm and Carol choosing how far he goes down the length of the dildo.

It isn't terribly big, but neither is the distance between Hal's mouth and throat and this is his first time and occasionally Carol makes him take it all the way to the base, choking him slightly. Only once does Hal have to tap their thighs to make them stop, to let himself take a short breathing break after gagging particularly hard.

After another few minutes, and some heavy kissing between Dinah and Carol above his head, Hal taps out again. Dinah leans back fully, showing Hal his handiwork. The dildo is covered in his saliva, thick and wet. "Look at that, Hal. Nicely done." Her praise and the closeness of her ass to it sends another shiver down his cock. Hal feels a heaviness building in his balls. All this delayed satisfaction is going to be so good when he finally releases.

Carol joins in the praise, petting his head as she does. "You did so good, Hal. And that was so hot."

"You being here really helped," Hal responds. "And you and Dinah, now that was hot."

"It was."

"Okay, Hal," Dinah starts again. "You think you're ready to take it?"

Hal looks to Carol and to Dinah and to the spit covered dildo and nods. "Yeah, let's do it."

"I'm going to lube you up again and make sure this is nice and slick too." Dinah does as she says, rubbing her fingers sticky with lube against his opening. Hal can feel his anticipation rising even further.

"Will you stay?" he asks Carol.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she replies.

When he's ready, Hal gives another nod and Dinah sticks it in his ass. Never before has he felt something quite like it. It's solid with a little weight, but he's been so well prepared that it slides in and out without any pain or discomfort. Like with his mouth, she starts slow, letting him decide how much to take at a time, exploring it by feeling it all around, and slowly building to longer, faster strokes. She establishes a good pace and a good length, the section that moves in and out of him not overwhelming, but feeling incredible.

And then his serenity is broken by a forgotten guest. "Damn, pretty bird. You're the best at this." Hal looks up to find Ollie has taken a place behind Carol. He has his arms wrapped around her, one covering her mouth, the other down playing with her pussy. Hal watches as Ollie gropes her, toys with her, touches her in ways that Hal does and in ones totally foreign to him, all the while, taking Dinah's toy up his ass.

"You okay, Hal?" Dinah asks again, checking in.

"Y-yeah."

"Hal, I had a thought," Carol offers. She's bent over him, her tits inches from his face still awkwardly supported in her lap as Ollie's bent her more forward to fuck her from behind. "You were doing so good with the blowjob...

"Would you want to try it on a real cock?"

Hal goes pale. Then flushes. Would he? A smile forms at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. Why not. I'll give it a go."

And with a little repositioning, Hal finds himself being fucked up the ass by Dinah, with Carol straddling him just above his cock, and his best friend Ollie's dick in his mouth.

Awkwardness hung heavy in the room. Shayera wondered how the other picks had gone. Carter had ended up with that Abigail Arcane woman, the Swamp Thing's wife. She was pretty, and they surely were having a better time than she was with Arthur. They hadn't seen many pairings, but they had seemed fairly strange. At least Elongated Man and Zatanna had a history, serving on a few different Leagues together through the years. But she, Arthur, Carter, and to a lesser extent Mera, well they had history.

Shayera still couldn't quite believe Arthur had shown up. He had always been on the outside of the League in his way, closer to J'onn and Diana than anyone of the other standard bearers. And in their way, Ollie and Carter had held similar positions. Though she'd rarely say it where they could all hear it because it would go to their heads, the three of them were some of the bravest men she knew in the whole universe. Incredibly opinionated and resolute in their convictions, even as they butted horns with each other. But for Arthur to attend this, to be with no friends and two of his most contentious allies...

She rubbed her temples and stretched her wings out, taking up the whole space of the bed. Arthur was still in the shower, where he had been since they had taken their shirts off and got no further. At least the bed was plush.

She should check on him. If he's fine, then that'll be that. They'll part ways and maybe she can stay in this nice room for a night. If he's not, they can figure it out from there.

Reluctantly, she gets up, puts her top back on, and knocks at the bathroom door.

"Arthur? Are you alright in there?"

She waits, but there's no response besides the continued hiss of the shower. She knocks again.

The door opens. Arthur wears a towel wrapped around his waist for modesty, but the shower's still going. He's dripping wet, absolutely gleaming, and clearly not done. "Do you need to get in here?"

Shayera shakes her head. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I am...not."

"Oh." Damn, guess she has to figure this out. "What's wrong, Arthur? Are you regretting being here?"

"That's fine," he says, waving off her concerns only half listened to. "No, it's this damnable shower. It's not...built for me."

"Is it...something I can help with?"

He considers for a moment. "It's a bit awkward, but...I suppose the intention was for you to see me naked anyway. Come." He motions back to the shower. She follows him into the bathroom.

Aquaman drops the towel as he steps back in the space. The shower looks like it was designed by a supervillain specifically to torment him. The showerhead sits far too low, even with his collarbone. His broad swimmer's chest and shoulders span its width, making standing facing the head difficult, and almost fully cutting the water off abruptly. To stand sideways, there's room enough for two, but as the water flows over him, it struggles to fully soak both front and back of the broad man. And the edge sits too low to be comfortable for a seated position, too thin to act as a seat itself, not tall enough to act as an actual tub wall.

Arthur puts both hands against the wall, standing sideways in the shower, his ass stuck out as far as he can toward her. "I can't seem to reach my taint. Can you splash it or something?"

"I don't want to get my clothes wet."

"That's fine. I'll just stay here. Thanks."

Well, it's some sort of progress. Shayera grabs the bottom of her top and peels it off, letting her breasts breath again. She shimmies out of her pants and panties. She's about to leave them on the floor when she notices the slight pooling of water from the sheer moisture of the room. Before they can get too wet, she kicks them back out into the attached bedroom.

As she enters the shower next to him, she moves her wings to be as far back and out as possible. It's one thing for her to bathe with them, but to make someone else deal with damp feathers just seems unfair.

Sidestepping, she moves next to him. She half-turns, cupping her hands in front of her to try to catch as much water as possible. When they seem full, she awkwardly tosses the water under him.

"Was that it?"

"I think it's a bad angle, Arthur."

"This whole thing's a bad angle." He sighs heavily. "Okay, try this."

Once more, she holds her hands cupped in front of her. Arthur keeps his face pressed against the shower wall, refusing to look, but uses his hands to spread his ass wide, giving a better chance of getting him where he needs moisture. When she's ready, she tries again. It splashes more against him, but still not fully.

"Can you just sort of direct it?" He bends further more, keeping himself well spread. Doing her best, Shayera changes the angle of the cup to a slope, leading the water to pour down her fingers, down his ass, and finally to a satisfactory end.

With that, Arthur turns off the shower. "Finally."

For a moment, they stare at each other, wet and nude. "Can I thank you?" he asks.

Shayera considers, then exits the shower, grabbing a slightly damp towel to dry herself off. "I don't know, Arthur. Can you?"

She dries off as best she can and returns to the room, once more lying on the bed in a spread. "If you're all set, I think I'll take the bed for the night," she calls to him.

Finally, he emerges from the bathroom. Not dried, but having allowed most of the water to have run off him. He glistens in the low light of the room. "Thank you." He hesitates. Shayera bites her lip. "I'm torn," he continues. "I respect you as my colleague. You know Carter and I get along like squids and whales. But you came looking for something I am unable to give you, so can we find an alternative?"

"What did you have in mind?"

He grabs his cock and starts stroking it, gently at first, exploring the space. "What if we took care of ourselves, watching each other?"

Not what she had in mind, but Shayera can work with this. She pushes herself up on the bed, wings spreading against the headboard. She licks her fingers seductively, then puts them between her spread legs. First she touches her lips, opening them up for him to see her pretty pink pussy under her thick red bush. Then she focuses in on her clit, fingers lightly toying it in a counter-clockwise motion.

Arthur increases the speed of his own playing, and his half-hard cock fully extends. It's a good cock, Shayera notices. Husband dick, not too large, not too small, with a subtle curve that probably actually stimulates the g-spot. And as his hand rolls over the head again, she notices it's already starting to bubble with pre-cum.

They stay like that, watching each other masturbate, trying to match pace, her on the bed, him standing in middle of the room. But for Arthur, it becomes too much to take. "I think I'm about to..."

"Come here."

"But you have to understand, I..."

"Come." He does. She leans toward the edge of the bed, careful not to stop, she's getting close too, and presents her face, eyes and mouth closed.

"Aaaahnnn..." she hears him moan as his cum covers her face. It's a huge load, multiple splurts trailing lines up and down her face. One crosses from her cheek to her forehead, right across her left eye. One drips from her nose to her chin. Another sticks to her right eyebrow.

And then something else warm and wet strikes her face, nearly scentless, but a more constant stream and far less thick than the cum that runs in it. "D-d-damn. I'm sorry. I tried to warn you."

Shayera had never been pissed on before, but something about the taboo and the embarrassment in the sea king's voice clicked for her and she can't take it anymore herself and cums. Her mouth falls open to let out her own guttural orgasm, impeded only by the light sound of his still flowing urine starting to enter her mouth with a tssss. It stops first, then her orgasm.

She holds it in her mouth, as well as what has dripped in while it was agape, and trying not to swallow murmurs "Towow."

She hears Arthur hurry back to the bathroom, then feels the plush cloth against her face as he cleans her up. "I'm sorry, this is exactly what I was afraid of. My kegal muscles are accustomed to ocean pressure, and--"

"Arthur," she cuts him off. "A heads up would've been nice, but I liked it. I came so hard just now. We're all good." Cleaned, she throws the towel off to the side of the bed. "Now, I'm going to watch some TV and fall asleep. There's room if you want to join me." And he does.

Hal Jordan is not an easy man to overwhelm, but right now, his mind is all over the place. His ass is setting the pace. It could almost fade into the background from Dinah's steady rhythm, but every now and again it changes just enough to consume him completely as she comes short and allows his throbbing hole to close tighter than he was expecting, or pushes in millimeters further than he was expecting. Whatever thoughts he can gather through the pleasure think this makes sense. Hal and Ollie might have two left feet, but Dinah's always had a musical talent. She'd be good with a beat.

The greatest tease is Carol. She'll do anything but let him in. His cock aches as it slides around her thighs, across her lips, nuzzling up against her clit, desperately trying to press into her only for her to shift away and tease him again. It's slick and he can't tell how much of that is her and how much is his own precum now spread all over him by her body. Unlike Dinah, this is not a set pattern. Carol is moving on a different level, purposefully toying with him like a cat with a mouse. The point is to move randomly, to tease him back into paying attention with her whenever his attention gets pulled elsewhere. It is torment, frustration, and so intoxicating.

And Ollie. Ollie. Hal isn't sure he's very good at this. He's trying not to be toothy. To be consistent. To take a lot of it. But Ollie is big and Hal is inexperienced and he keeps needing to stop to catch a breath. How does anyone manage to do this? Dinah has excellent breath control. And Hal should, he has great lungs, but it's so exhausting and so hard to keep it up. Is he moving his tongue right? Should he use his lips more? Is Ollie enjoying this? He moans sometimes, whispers encouragements, but Hal's having a hard time deciphering them, so focused is he on just trying his best while so much of his body demands his attention.

Finally, something cuts through. A warning. "Fuck, Hal, if you keep that up, I'm gonna..."

Hal feels the heat of it in his mouth before he tastes it. It's hot, and rapidly cools against the built up spit on his tongue. The taste isn't great. Ollie should really drink something other than that kombucha. But it's something that Hal's never tasted before, a consistency he can't say he's familiar with, and it just keeps coming. Finally, it stops and Ollie pulls his cock out of Hal's mouth.

Hal takes a shallow breath in and feels it pooling at the back of his throat. Instinct tells him to push it back with his tongue and swallow.

"Whoa, hey," Ollie says, sticking his own tongue out teasingly. "Not even Dinah does that for me, bud. You certainly didn't have to."

"Tonight's about...new experiences." Did Hal say that? He's looking at Ollie, but something else is happening that's taking his attention away. His mind is foggy from all the sensory input.

Soft hands cusp either side of his face, pulling his view away from Ollie. It's Carol. She's nude and the most gorgeous woman he's ever seen. She focuses him on her face. "Yes it is, and you're doing so good, Hal. I think you deserve a reward, don't you?"

Hal becomes distantly aware of what is happening around him. He feels the steady thud of Dinah against his ass. He hears the sounds of her and Ollie laughing and kissing. But mostly he's with Carol. She fills his vision. She leans in closer for a kiss and takes over his taste. As her hair brushes against his face, everything smells of her. He is warm and happy and can feel something so soft around him and oh, good, he's inside her. She's finally let him inside her. With that realization, he can't take it anymore and all that had been building all night is let loose.

Throughout the house, a wild night was had. Mera, the queen of Atlantis, bedded down with a completely ordinary man, as Rick was unwilling to take Miraclo into his system just for this. Nonetheless, he proved he could last an hour at a time with her. And in-between sessions, they found creative uses for her hard water abilities.

In another room, Jessie Quick found herself embarrassed for assuming Scott Free would be into bondage. To escape from such things has been his life; trying to liberate himself from the grip of Darkseid and Apokolips; the basis of an entertainment career he had made for himself on Earth; and what other superheroes wanted him around for. They laughed together at the misunderstanding and enjoyed each other's companies and bodies. After they had finished, they continued talking, and he showed her that while he may not be personally interested, he certainly had ideas that she could take back home.

For Majestros and Barda, the night altered between gentleness and intensity. Compared to most of the mortals around them, they were unto gods. Compared to each other, they were simply people. And so they alternated. Some touches were merely a lack of holding back, enjoying a release of the restraint they so often felt to interact in this fragile world with one of their own level. And some were to show off, to take advantage of the fact that they could go as hard and fast and powerful against each other as they could, in ways only a handful in the universe are able.

And for Maxima and Cole Cash, well, the purest expression of their night together would be the way Oliver Queen found their room the next day. Completely and totally destroyed. The bedframe cracked in two. All hangings from the walls smashed into the floor. The metal bars of the balcony twisted and torn. The sort of mess that a blacklight would make you think was a murder scene. Maxima was long gone, her future with Majestros uncertain after such a showing from a human. And of course, Cole Cash, was still nude and asleep on the floor, covered in hickies, completely drained of cum.

Zannah did not come here for this. Increasingly, she was unsure why she had come here in the first place. Sex can be thrilling, and humans can be so strange about where and when they're open about it. So she had attended because she and Cole were invited and she thought perhaps this situation, among relative peers, might be more direct and casual. She had not expected to spend any time listening to the inane prattling of one of the most twig-like men she had ever encountered. Yet here she was, and he just kept going on-and-on.

"I guess what I'm really trying to say," Myron continues, maybe finally reaching a conclusion, "is that by devaluing the visual element of the work with unequal recognition, you miss out on what makes it a comic book in the first place. If it was really just about the written text, the same work would be as compelling as prose or in script form, but it isn't, and those aren't comics."

This is her chance. "That is quite fascinating," she cuts him off during his breath between rants. "Now that we know so much of each other, should we not get to what we came here for?"

Myron puts his palm to his forehead with an audible smack. "Oh geez, Myron! Look at me. I spent all this time talking about my work and barely asked about you. I'm so sorry! Tell me more about yourself, miss Z!"

She sighs. "My name is Zannah. Some call me Zealot. I am Kherubim and I am Coda. If you do not know what either of those mean, you are not meant to know. I have seen many things, lived many lives. And I am here to have sex. Do you want to have sex with me, or should I find other means?"

Myron just stares at her for a moment. He pulls a cloth out of his pocket, takes off his glasses, and begins cleaning them with a full body sigh. The force of it looks like it'll practically break his small fragile frame. "I'm sorry. I talk when I'm nervous. Maybe they should call me Awkward-Man, heh." Zannah remains unfazed. "That's the name of my teammate, you see."

"I see."

"I know I'm just here because that's what you do, you invite couples. And Athena's gorgeous enough to merit me tagging along. But it's no different than when we go out with her half-sister, Angel, and Sam. Everyone pays attention to the beautiful girls and the powerful ape-man, and I'm lucky if the server remembers to take my drink order, much less bring it.

"And I'm okay with that. I know it comes with the territory. Wouldn't be much of a Merryman if something like that got me down." Myron smiles, but there's a twinge of pain in his expression. "It's just...something like this, where the big name heroes are asking for us specifically, it feels like an opportunity to prove that we exist, to be unforgettable. But after tonight, who knows when any of you will see us again. So I just let it all out, hoping that you remember me, miss Zannah.

"It really doesn't usually bother me so much, but sometimes that's the emotional arc, y'know?" He replaces his glasses and looks at her curiously.

Zannah considers him for a minute, letting the silence linger. "You've chosen well. I will remember you, Myron, as I have so many others. But I would like to see you have your glory as well." She turns to leave the room and expects him to follow. "Come, do you remember what Queen said? There's a monster to hunt."

Myron follows her.

It is not a long journey, simply one room over to the study. Unlike much of the house, the room clearly has not been a priority in the recent renovations. Layers of dust remain settled, worn into the furniture, the books, everything. It is all thoroughly unmodern, a rotary phone next to a typewriter on the desk.

"Well, I don't see a monster here," Myron says, uncertain. "Maybe we should look somewhere else?"

"There must be a trick, some way to where Grundy lays," Zannah replies. "Queen had said something about a trigger." She begins to make her way around the room, carefully walking the along the rightmost wall. Since their room would be against the left wall, the most likely place for another opening would be along the right.

Myron crosses over to the desk. This is a puzzle and he's okay at those. "Maybe..." he murmurs. He picks the phone up off the dial and begins turning. "Two, seven, seven, six, nine...ARROW." He holds the receiver up to his face and looks around the room. Nothing. Not even a dial tone.

Myron frowns. Bust. He punches in keys on the typewriter, A-R-R-O-W and looks around again. Nothing. Geez, this is a toughie.

Zannah has found what she's looking for. One of the bookcases has a seam on either side of its frame while the rest have no divisions, being built together into the wall. Unfortunately, the seam is not wide enough for her to get her fingers through, so any option of force will have to be brutal, not subtle. She searches the shelves for any additional hint, suggestion of the mechanism.

Myron appears next to her. "Any luck?"

"I believe this is a door."

"Ohh, neat," he says not sure he wants her to have found a door. "Any way to open it?"

"I am searching for one."

Myron tries to act cool and casually pokes at the apple on the head of a bust of William Tell. "Pfff, well, I tried the phone and typewriter with no dice, so I'm not sure we'll ever get--huh?" At his touch, the apple falls backward, revealing a red button.

"Excellent work," Zannah praises him before pressing the button. The bookcase moves toward them, making them both take a step back, then slides to the right, over the next bookcase. A staircase descends down into the unknown.

The lighting is inconsistent, making it hard for Myron's eyes to properly adjust. Most of the staircase is illuminated only by strips of emergency lighting that only define its edges. The overhead lights are largely smashed or dimmed, a step away from burning out, but occasionally one will still be going full strength, flooding a matter of feet in fluorescence.

Myron is still rubbing his eyes, glasses on his forehead, trying to get the spots from the last unexpected change in lighting out, when they cross the threshold into the Arrowcave itself. Zannah throws an arm out to stop him from continuing further. "Huh?" he questions. Silently, she holds up a finger to quiet him.

"Why'd you stop?" Unfortunately, her gesture is unheeded as his vision remains impaired. A low grumble comes from somewhere in front of him and Myron carefully lowers his glasses. As his focus comes back, he realizes what he had missed. No more than twenty feet in front of him, Solomon Grundy has just stirred, is nude, and is looking right at them with sickly yellow eyes.

GULP! Myron swallows hard. Zannah remains motionless, waiting. Her eyes remain locked on the monster. Myron's eyes remain locked on his monster. It's the size of one of those energy drink cans that sends Myron's heart into palpitations.

No one moves, they just look at each other. But the low grumbling continues and changes. Or, a version of it does, Myron realizes. The sound is coming in from somewhere above the Arrowcave, the acoustics of the space amplifying and bouncing it around. The grunts turn to a familiar squeal to a yell to quick, short, giggling breaths. At least Athena's having fun.

Grundy roars at them, breaking the silence, but the tension remains thick.

Myron looks to Zannah for guidance. She does not look back at him. So he must once more take command.

"Excuse me, Mr. Solomon Grundy, but uhh...would you mind moving on? You're not really supposed to be here," Myron gestures loosely around the Arrowcave. "We aren't either, for that matter, but--"

Grundy growls back, cutting him off. Myron continues, "What do you want? Maybe we can help you!"

"Grundy horny!" he yells, as if it wasn't obvious.

Myron glances at Zannah again. She ventures a look back at him. Myron smiles. "Well, that we can help with! You wanna watch us?"

"Clothes off!" Grundy commands.

Myron starts to strip. Unbelieving, Zannah just watches until he motions to her. "C'mon. We've got an audience," he says in a smile. Oh, oh, Zannah realizes, is this what turns him on?

She reaches for her zipper, pulling it down. The tight dress she had been wearing instantly loosens against her body, it's own weight pulling it forward, revealing more and more of her breasts before it settles just under her nipples. She grabs the bottom and pulls it the rest of the way down, dropping to her ankles. With that, she's nude. She looks over at Myron and realizes this isn't going to work.

He's also dropped trow and stands naked and mock triumphant with his hands on his hips. His dick rests on his balls, barely bigger than a third ball itself, all practically lost in a mess of bush. "It'll be good, trust me," he says confidently, waving her over.

They approach each other, putting on a show for Grundy, whose hand moves down toward his massive meat. Zannah leans down towards Myron's ear, to make it look like she's kissing at the far side of his face and neck. Instead, she whispers, "The hell do you think you're doing?"

Myron kisses up her, starting at the top of her breast and up her neck, going to his tip-toes as he reaches toward her ear. "We all get what we want," he whispers. "You get to cum, he'll go, and I'll...stay?" He grabs her hand and leads it to his dick. Easily, she wraps around it with two fingers. "Anyway, just touch me here for a bit and you'll see what I've got up my sleeve."

Myron intensifies his touch. He keeps kissing her up and down her neck and breast. With his hands, he begins feeling Zannah's powerful body everywhere, his bony fingers teasing her ass, the small of her back, all the way up her spine, then back down to her hip, her thigh, up again to her shoulder, her other breast, her abs, her pussy.

All the while, she simply tugs as he becomes increasingly turgid. What had been a job for two fingers quickly becomes necessary for three, four, her whole hand, both hands, and when she feels it stop growing in her hands, it is like so much of his body, long and thin.

He stops kissing her and turns his head toward Grundy. "We're going to come down there by you," he calls. "You'll get a better look and we'll have an easier time not on the stairs."

He slaps Zannah's ass as encouragement for her to move down the stairs. In any other circumstances, she'd have already removed his hand, but there's something about his demeanor shift, the newfound command of his presence, that is working for her.

They descend the stairs and approach Grundy's makeshift nest, a "bed" of crash mats, old costumes, spare fabric presumably for repairs, and anything else vaguely plush that Grundy could find. As they draw nearer, Grundy backs up , not wanting to be too close.

Myron goes to his knees on the mat and gestures for Zannah to join him. "Do you like to sixty-nine? I find it pretty satisfying myself."

"I have no objections," Zannah replies. She glances at Grundy, who maintains a small distance. This close, she can see that Myron, while much narrower, must be at least two inches longer.

Myron lays on his back and Zannah settles her thighs around his head. "Go ahead and crush it a little if you need to," she hears him say under her. She flexes once for fun and watches how his cock twitches as she does. Then as she finishes lowering herself, she feels his tongue start to tease her lips.

She considers her plan of attack. First, she spits on her hands, then rubs them up and down its length, lubing it up. As she does this, she holds her mouth open over the top, letting her hot, wet breath excite him further. Her tongue curls out as she licks just the tip, letting saliva build slowly against the head.

All the while, he is absolutely going to town on her pussy. His nose, his lips, his tongue, and his chin all come to play as he strokes her whole length, sometimes focusing on her clit, sometimes nuzzling between her labia, sometimes delivering swift kisses to either side. And when he can't take anymore, he plunges his tongue deep inside her. His hands desperately grab at her cheeks, working with his mouth to spread her exactly how he wants.

Zannah finally starts taking him deeper with her own mouth. She goes slow, leaving a marker each time with the stain of her red lipstick. Finally, she can go no further, only able to take three-quarters of the length before it has slid as far down her throat as she can manage. She gags on it, which makes them both moan. And when she pulls back to the tip after deep throating it, she's surprised to find Grundy's cock waiting right next to her face.

"Suck," Grundy says. The pure whiteness of his cock fascinates Zannah. It is so thick, and the only contrast comes from veins that appear black against his flesh. It has a peculiar heady smell, one that in any other situation would probably sicken her, but here proves intoxicating. All his masturbating has built up a bubbling load of precum dripping from the tip. Despite herself, she lets Myron's cock fall from her mouth and opens it as wide as she can as she approaches Grundy...

SMACK! Echoing against the walls of the cave, deafening, is the sound of Myron's hand against her ass. Zannah briefly worries that it's also the sound of him breaking his fragile hand against her hard body, but the desired effect seems to have happened as she and Grundy both stop, just shy of contact.

Myron unburies his face from her and says commandingly, "You agreed to watch. Go back. No one said anything about you participating!"

As Grundy backs off, Zannah cums, her thighs absolutely crushing around Myron's head. And in return, she feels it as he throbs hot in her hands, rocketing out all over her chin.

Like something rising from the bowels of the earth, a groan grows from Grundy, building nearly to a peak, when Myron cuts it off. "Stop!" He moves Zannah by the waist, implying he wants her to get off. She does. "No one told you to cum," he says to Grundy.

Grundy stops, shaking. He had been so so close. Both Grundy and Zannah look to Myron, awaiting his next command. As they do, Myron's erection already begins to shrink back down.

"What would you like to do next, Zannah?"

She looks to Grundy's near ready to burst cock, then to Myron's rapidly shortening member. "I'd like more," she responds cautiously.

"Do you want Grundy's cock?" Myron asks. "Do you want me to use him to fuck you?"

Now that sounds exciting.

Hal's head is still spinning from it all. After he blew his load deep inside Carol, things had started to settle. She had laid on top of him for a bit, letting their bodies simply touch, feeling the light jostling that he felt as Dinah finished her final thrusts before finally pulling out, and the different sort of trembling he did as his hole tried to reorient itself. Finally, she had rolled off of him, the creampie still oozing out of her.

He wasn't entirely sure what happened next. He felt like he was coming out of space, but even that wasn't right. That was a trip he made frequently and while readjusting to Earth could be a challenge, it wasn't like this. His whole body ached and quaked, rocked by too much intensity for too long. Some test pilot he was, shaking like it was his first time pushing Mach 1.

But gradually, he became more aware of his surroundings. At some point, he had been let out of the handcuffs. Ollie had left and returned with a glass of water for him, which he very much needed. He hadn't realized creating so much spit was such thirsty work. It was also a relief as he realized just how sweaty he was, the way in which he and Carol, who curled next to him, stuck together from it. Dinah sat by his head, quietly petting his hair. All this was nice.

"So, Hal, what'd you think?" Ollie asks after Hal finishes downing his water.

"I think," Hal says, swallowing hard. "I think you need to drink more water and less 'buch, Ollie. Never quite tasted something like that and the consistency..."

Ollie gives him a playful shove against the leg. "I liked it better when you couldn't talk for the cock in your mouth."

"Mmm, me too," Carol groans. "That was hot."

"Ollie's right though, what did you think, Hal?" Dinah dotes. What did Hal do to have such caring friends, family, in his life.

"It was intense. I don't think I've ever experienced anything quite like it."

"Was it everything you wanted it to be, flyboy?" Carol asks, pulling his arm tighter against her.

"And more. I've done a lot in this life, but this..." Hal stops, reflective. "I mean, it felt good, of course. But I've felt good before. I've had great sex before..."

"Braggart," Ollie chimes in.

"...I've never been surrounded by so many people I love at once this way though," Hal finishes.

At that, they alternatively cheer and jeer him, poking fun at Hal, but he knows that they feel the same.

When they settle back down, Dinah ventures one more question. "Well, Hal, the night's not over yet. Anything else you want to try?"

Hal and Ollie make eye-contact. "Hmm...Remember what you asked me earlier about trying a real one?"

"Ah, ah, nnggaaaaahhhhh!" They moan together as they cum once more. Constantine's muscles twitch and jump. His recently fingered asshole clenches each time a wave rides down his taint and up his cock as his balls are milked. Athena's pussy squeezes him so hard he's convinced any pulse could be the one where she simply breaks him inside of her.

Finally, she finishes cumming. She eases herself up, using Constantine's legs as leverage. As he slides out, he's sure most of his latest deposit comes with, a lingering connection between them even as she backs up and finally lets his legs and ass down from how she's had them curled while she fucked him. Athena smiles at him, big, broad, and warm.

With a full body sigh of contentment, she lays next to him again. Cum casually leaks from her pussy, too full and still throbbing just enough to keep it contained. "That was great!"

Constantine reaches over to the nightstand and picks up a cigarette and his lighter. "Have to agree, love. The way you bend me...unreal. Where'd you pick that trick up?"

"I'm part-Amazon, so it came naturally!"

"I'm sure it did." He lights his post-coital smoke. Fuck does the nicotine hit at a time like this. The orange glow stands out in the dark of the room. He exhales.

Athena coughs, breathing in just a bit of smoke. "You know those are bad for you."

Constantine throws his legs over the edge of the bed. "Wrong, pet. Bad for you. I find them quite needed."

"Oh really?! Okay!" She's so accepting. "Where are you going?"

Constantine throws his coat over himself as he walks over to the door to the patio. "They're still bad for you, so I'll take it outside, yeah? Down for another round when I return?"

"Absolutely!" she replies as he slips out the door. Athena stretches, even her ultra tough muscles starting to tire. She's also starting to get cold. Surely it'll be fine if she just slips under the covers for a minute...

Leaning heavily on the patio's railing, Constantine smokes and thinks. This girl is trouble. John's never been known for having the greatest of inhibitions in the first place, and a girl like this who is so enthusiastic, agreeable, and unconcerned for the consequences? Trouble.

By the same token, maybe he was maturing. The night was starting to retreat. The sun wasn't visible yet, but the black of the night had faded into a royal blue that was lightening by the second. As he watched the sky, he thought about a younger version of himself. One that would've put out a call to some of his acquaintances in the magical community, or the queer community, or both. One that would've encouraged her to bring in her friends, presumably other super misfits. Had she said something about a half-sister and a gorilla? Maybe them too. Snuck into a larger room and thrown an orgy right under Ollie's nose. But he hadn't, and maybe that was mature. Or maybe it was selfish, not wanting to share this absolute beauty and helluva shag with anyone else.

His legs trembled beneath him, still not quite sturdy after having been bent by her for so long. The stickiness on his cock had cooled in the crisp early morning air. They'd have to get him nice and wet again before another round, if he could even go once more. The endurance spell he'd cast on himself had faded an hour ago and these last two rounds, ten and eleven respectively, had been a lot of patience, determination, and pure perverse lust for her incredible body. Maybe this time her breasts or her feet or her hand or her mouth could just be foreplay, instead of coaxing him to completion like earlier in the night.

As he considered these things, movement caught his eye. Something big was lumbering away from the house. Strange. That is, without a doubt, Solomon Grundy. The undead behemoth staggers away, dazed and nude as the Monday he was born. Huh. Maybe someone else in the manor was kinkier than expected.

John watches him cross the property line and deems him to not be a threat, or at least, not John's problem. But, not wanting to have to Grundy become his problem at all, he pulls the remains of his cigarette out of his mouth. With the tip, he draws a sigil in the air in front of him. The orange glow lingers for a second, before transforming into smoke. When it's complete, he simply blows it away, and a smoky barrier wraps around the property line as he can see it. Not a long-term solution, but it'll keep Grundy out til past sunrise and if he can't come back by then, the big lunk will move on. Probably.

Oliver should be grateful, John thinks. That was his last cigarette and he didn't even get to finish it. Bugger.

He slides the glass door open, returning to the room and taking in the utter disarray. He smiles to himself. They truly took advantage, having fucked on any and every flat surface, all over the bathroom, and with anything that seemed useful in the moment, dropping it wherever whenever pleasure once more consumed them.

Athena was asleep in the bed. Comfy and cozy. She looks an angel. Constantine goes to her and leans down by her face. Maybe he'll catch a few winks himself.

"Myron..." she mutters in her unconsciousness. He finds a good spot, one not covered in too much of his own spunk, and gives her a quick peck. This seems to set something off within her as she turns her body, spreading completely across the mattress, neck twisted at an awkward angle, and the loudest snores Constantine has ever heard erupting from her mouth.

"Well, it was good fun while it lasted," he says to her sleeping form quietly. "See ya next crisis, kid."

He grabs his clothes and dresses quickly. Finally, he shrugs his coat back on and slips out the door back into the house. Time to raid any good liquor Ollie might be sitting on and see if he can't find something that'll act as payment for the carton Ollie owes him.

The preparations were more extensive than Hal would have expected, given how much they had already done. But it needed to be right, so Hal did as Dinah told him. The first part was getting them excited again. Honestly, Hal didn't think that would really be a problem, but when Dinah kissed Carol, he realized he shouldn't stop the show either.

Dinah had finally stripped down too, joining everyone else in their nudity, though the ghost of her fishnets still crisscrossed her lower body where they had dug in to her skin. She pinned Carol to the bed, holding her by her wrists as they continued to kiss. Dinah's perfect fat ass wiggled in the air, making Hal jealous, though he wasn't sure if it was of getting to be with her or of wishing his own was that plump, round, and the perfect level of firm.

Dinah made her way down, kisses migrating from Carol's lips to her breastbone and back. Their chests pressed together. "Hands up," Dinah whispers. Carol obeys and Dinah switches both of her wrists into only one hand. With a hand now free, she can touch Carol more meaningfully, and she does. It runs the same trail she had already established with her mouth, but her fingers keep running down the length of Carol's torso once she passes the breastbone. It's a light stroke all the way down Carol's tummy and at the last second, Dinah pulls her hand up to touch her own pussy.

Shlk shlk. Two fingers in, Dinah's wetness is audible. Hal realizes just how excited she must be. She's been putting everyone else's pleasure first, and it must have been building. Carol turns her head and bites Dinah's arm that holds her wrists. It just makes Dinah go faster. "Ahhnh."

Dinah raises her body more, letting her breasts droop into Carol's face. "Why don't you use your mouth on these?" As Carol nips and licks and catches Dinah's nipples in her teeth, Dinah continues to touch herself faster and faster, the sounds wetter and wetter.

Finally, Dinah can't take it anymore and pulls back with a groan. She lines her pussy up with Carol's, closes her eyes, and pulls her dripping fingers out to focus on her clit. "Ahhn AAH OOOOH FUcK! I'm cumming!" Dinah keeps rubbing as long as she can, but it doesn't last long as her pussy gushes. All the moisture that had built seems to explode out of it, all over Carol.

Hal realizes that had been the goal the whole time. Even as Dinah cums, she's taken her already slick fingers and her own spilling juices and started fucking Carol with her hand. Like with Hal, it takes her no time at all to establish a rhythm to her touch, with just enough variation to drive someone wild. Dinah lets Carol's hands go, lets them run all over her body, and uses her now free hand to cover Carol's mouth. Dinah kisses all around it, kisses her own hand. Carol's mad rush for touch goes from an unfocused need to deciding Dinah's hips are home base, the perfect place to send exploratory missions to her pussy, her ass, her thighs, her back, and then return whenever she wants to help Dinah pump and thrust into her pussy.

Carol's eyes roll back as she cums. The muffled groans under Dinah's hand become louder and louder until Dinah finally pulls her hand away and Carol screams in pleasure. They kiss one more time, and roll apart.

"How was that?"

"Amazing," Carol snuggles into the bed. "Why are we helping the boys? We should just be doing that."

"Glad you liked it. Well, boys, are you excited again?" Dinah teases. Ollie and Hal are hard as they've ever been. "Good. Now let's get this really started."

Hal is bent over the bed, his hands spreading his cheeks. Behind him, Dinah lubes it up. She used her mouth briefly, which felt fantastic, but quickly switched back to her fingers with the actual lubricant for maximum coverage. Behind her, Carol blows Ollie to increase his own slickness and make sure he doesn't loose his erection, not that he would.

"Alright, Carol, I think they're ready," Dinah announces.

Carol lets Ollie out of her mouth. "Roger!" She climbs back on the bed, putting herself in front of Hal. She grabs his hands and places them around the sides of her belly. She picks his head up and they lock eyes. She's as much a part of this as Ollie.

Dinah applies one last layer of lube onto Ollie directly and guides him to Hal's hole. Hal can't really feel it distinctly as they make contact--too much lubrication between them, so it only feels like a small pressing pressure. "That's right, Ollie. Just like that. Good aim."

"Thanks, pretty bird," Ollie says. They kiss. "Alright now, pal, I'll go slow, but I'm ready if you are."

"Ready and waiting," Hal replies. He and Carol smile at each other.

"Here we go!" Ollie pushes in. Even with the lube, Hal quickly realizes this is different than the toy. That had been smooth, rounded, and a consistent width all around. Ollie is not those things. The head feels so big and Hal can feel it as his body adjusts between wrapping around the tip and the veiny shaft. Fuck, was Ollie this big when he had been in Hal's mouth? And why does it feel like he's only going in, deeper and deeper, thickening back out as he plunges closer to the base. Oh, because he is. Hal feels as Ollie's balls slap against his taint. He's all in.

"How's it feel, Hal?" he hears Carol say.

"Too much, too big."

Ollie pulls back out some, alleviating some of the pressure. "Sorry, buddy. If it gets to be too much again, just speak up. I won't go balls deep anymore."

"T-thanks," Hal grumbles. "But could you actually move?"

"Sure, shit, sorry." Ollie does it slowly, but he does start to move it in and out. His rhythms aren't nearly as refined as Dinah's, but he hits a decent pace that allows Hal to adjust to the size and shape of it.

"You can go faster," Hal tells him after feeling more acclimated.

"You got it," Ollie replies, and he does so. He also starts to go deeper again, not all the way to the base again, but Hal increasingly feels Ollie's thighs against his ass, his balls bumping against him.

And then Ollie goes all the way again, now faster, and it's too much. "Pilot!" Hal calls. Everything stops around him. Ollie pulls all the way out. Carol leans down into Hal's face and Dinah comes to check in with him too.

"Everything okay, Hal?"

"What's up, Hal, need to stop?"

"Are you alright, baby?"

Hal nods at all of them. "Y-yeah. Ollie, man, you just can't go that deep. I don't think I'm equipped for it."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It was feeling really great otherwise. Maybe just...let me set the pace this time?"

They reset and once Ollie's pushed his head in, he largely stops. Hal knows this is his show now. He looks at Carol again, who gives him a reassuring nod. He puts his hands on her thighs for leverage, and plunges Ollie into himself as deep as he's willing to take him. Hal pulls away, and goes back, repeating it until he's sure he's got a good sense of the length that he can handle. "You feel where I am now, Ollie? This is as far as you can go."

"You got it. But you're also doing a really good job. You want me to take over, or do you wanna keep throwing it back?"

Hal's cock twitches when Ollie says it like that. "I can do it." Hal takes over, setting his own pace. He hears Ollie groan behind him.

"Good job, Hal!" Dinah announces, and smacks his ass. Oh, fuck. Now that's a sensation.

"Dinah...can you spank me again?"

SMACK. She does. Pain radiates across Hal's cheek, making him tighten around Ollie's big cock even harder. "Ollie, now you!" Ollie spanks him too as Hal thrusts back on him and the contact is stinging as their momentum meets.

Hal's face falls into the bed again. "I can't keep this up," he mutters against the sheets.

"Do you need to stop?" Carol asks.

"Ollie take over."

Ollie does, having really learned the proper pace and length from Hal. And it feels great. And every time Ollie throws in a spank sends shivers up through Hal. This was everything he wanted from tonight, and he hadn't even known it.

Hal looks up at Carol again and she smiles down at him like an angel from heaven. "I love you, Hal."

That was it. It was too much. Hal feels himself start to cum against the bed, the last load he has shooting out all over the sheets. As his cock throbs, vibrations run through him, gripping Ollie harder too, until he hears "Agh! I'm about to..."

Ollie pulls out of Hal and Hal feels it spilling all over his back. Like before, it's hot, though cools quickly. It's viscous and thick. Hal laments slightly that he isn't feeling it inside him, but there's always next time.

Late the next morning, the five remaining residents of Queen manor gather in the kitchen. Most everyone else had let themselves out in the wee hours, but Hal, Carol, Ollie, Dinah, and Cole remain. Cole pours himself a cup of coffee. "Anyone else?"

"I'll take you up on that," Dinah replies.

"Me too," Carol agrees.

As he pours more cups, Ollie gives the status report. "All-in-all, not too much damage, Cole here aside."

"I said I'd pay for it." Cole presents a mug to Dinah. "Sometimes a girl that's been with Majestros just has...a higher tolerance, y'know?"

"Right," Ollie retorts. "And it looks like Grundy's gone from the Arrowcave, so that's a win."

Dinah picks up a hastily scrawled note. "Constantine apparently saw him leave and cast a ward that would prevent him from coming back," she reads. "Also he helped himself to the liquor cabinet."

"Let him have it," Ollie says.

"So," Cole pipes up, "Did you all swap with each other last night?"

Hal flashes him a knowing smile. "You could say that."