It was well past midnight, and Donna couldn't sleep. Hadn't been able to for days, if she was honest with herself.
It started when Lex and Sharon became... whatever they were. Dating? Exclusive? Donna didn't know, didn't care about the labels. What she cared about—what was *ruining* her—was the fucking.
Every night. Every *single* night since that first date, they came back to the penthouse and went at it like animals. Donna would lie in her bed, staring at the ceiling, and hear them through the walls. Through the *floor*. Sometimes she swore she could feel the vibration of the bedframe through the beams of the building.
The sounds were bad enough—Sharon's voice pitched high and broken, screaming Lex's name like a prayer and a curse. But worse, somehow, was the *smell*. It lingered every morning, seeping through the vents, this thick, heady musk of sweat and sex and pheromones that made Donna's mouth water and her thighs press together involuntarily. It wasn't unpleasant. That was the problem. It was *intoxicating*. One breath and she was wet, her nipples tightening, her mind flooding with images of what they must be doing to create a scent so primal.
Donna had tried everything. She'd moved to a room further down the hall, but the master bedroom sat in the center of the penthouse like a beating heart, and sound carried strangely through the open spaces. She'd tried earplugs, white noise, meditation. She'd even tried indulging it—for three nights, she'd lain in her bed with her hand between her legs, fingering herself in time to Sharon's moans, imagining the scene just feet away from her. She'd come those nights, hard and shaking, biting her own lip to stay silent.
But it only made the hunger worse.
Tonight, sleep was impossible. Tomorrow they left for Themyscira, and the anticipation had her restless, melancholy, *needy*. She needed distraction. She needed *something*.
The moaning started around one in the morning. Sharon's voice, already breathless, climbing higher. Donna squeezed her eyes shut, her hand drifting beneath the waistband of her pajama shorts—she wore nothing underneath, just the thin cotton and a tank top, her usual sleeping attire. Her fingers found herself slick already, just from the ambient tension in the air, the knowledge of what was happening nearby.
Then—*smack*.
The sound of flesh striking flesh cut through the night, sharp and obscene. Sharon *wailed*, the cry pitching upward into something desperate and ruined, and Donna's hips bucked against her own hand involuntarily. She was soaking now, her arousal coating her fingers as she began to work herself in earnest, sliding through her folds, circling her clit.
She found a rhythm without meaning to. Every time Sharon moaned, Donna pushed her fingers *in*, filling herself, imagining the thickness that was causing those sounds. Every time that hand came down—*smack*—Donna withdrew, dragging her fingers across her sensitive walls, teasing herself. The spanking grew faster, a rapid-fire *slap-slap-slap* that blended with Sharon's screams, and Donna's hand moved in tandem, fucking herself harder, deeper, her hips rolling off the mattress.
She could hear Sharon coming—the telltale break in pitch, the sobbing gasps, the way her words dissolved into nonsense. But Donna was hovering on the edge herself, her own orgasm just out of reach, her fingers suddenly not *enough*.
She needed more. She needed to *see*.
The thought was insane. Reckless. She knew Lex's senses—if he was even partially alert, he'd smell her the moment she stepped into the hallway. But the need had become something feral, something beyond rational thought. She wanted to see Sharon's face when she came. Wanted to see what Lex was working with that could reduce that sweet, innocent blonde to a screaming mess night after night.
Donna moved before she could talk herself out of it. She crept down the hallway on bare feet, her pajama shorts clinging to her soaked thighs, her heart hammering against her ribs. The door to Lex's room was ajar—of course it was, they were heroes, they kept doors unlocked for emergencies—and light spilled out in a thin golden line.
She pressed herself against the frame, peeking through the gap, and her breath caught in her throat.
Sharon Rogers—the same Sharon who made pancakes in the morning and blushed when someone cursed—was on her knees, completely naked, her face buried between Lex's thighs. But she wasn't sucking his cock. She had one of his heavy balls in her mouth, rolling it with her tongue, her hand wrapped around his shaft and stroking slowly, worshipfully. Lex stood above her, one hand tangled in her hair, guiding her, his head thrown back in ecstasy, his cock—
*God*.
Donna felt her own arousal spill down her inner thigh, soaking the fabric of her shorts. He was *massive*, even half-soft he was bigger than most men at full attention, thick and veined and glistening at the tip where Sharon's hand had spread his pre-come. The sight of it, the sheer *obscenity* of Sharon's pretty mouth servicing him so thoroughly, made Donna's knees weak. She pressed her hand between her legs through her shorts, grinding against her palm, unable to stop herself.
"Donna."
She froze, terror and arousal twin spikes through her chest. Sharon had lifted her head, her lips swollen and wet, her eyes finding Donna's through the crack in the door. She didn't look surprised. She looked... *hungry*.
"Since you're already here," Sharon said, her voice rough, used, nothing like her daytime sweetness, "why don't you join?"
Donna couldn't speak. Her mouth opened, closed. She looked at Lex, who had turned his head, his gaze raking over her with supernatural intensity. She knew he could smell her—could probably taste her arousal in the air, thick and needy.
"You don't mind, Lex?" Donna finally managed, her voice barely a whisper.
Lex laughed—low, delighted, *predatory*. "Wait... you're agreeing to it? Why the fuck would I ever say no?" He extended his hand, his cock bobbing heavy between his legs, still glistening from Sharon's mouth. "Come on in."
Donna pushed the door open. Her movements felt distant, dreamlike, her body moving on autopilot. She reached for the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head in one smooth motion, freeing her breasts—heavy and full, nipples peaked and aching. The cool air of the room hit her skin, and she shivered, but Lex's eyes on her burned hot.
The moment she was in reach, his hands were on her. He pulled her against him, his mouth finding her neck, sucking hard enough to mark, his palms cupping her breasts, thumbs dragging across her nipples with just enough pressure to make her *keen*—high and desperate, a sound she'd never heard herself make.
"Nnngh—*fuck*—" she gasped, her head falling back, her hands flying to his shoulders to steady herself.
Her own hand drifted down, seeking, and found his cock—still slick, impossibly hard now, pulsing with heat. Sharon's hand was already there, wrapped around his base, and for a moment their fingers tangled, stroking him together, feeling the weight and thickness of him. There was so much of him that they both had room to work, their hands bumping and sliding against each other in a rhythm that wasn't quite coordinated but was somehow hotter for its messiness.
Then—*oh god*—Donna felt it. A hand at her waist, sliding beneath her shorts, fingers unerringly finding her center.
She looked down to see Sharon kneeling beside her now, her free hand buried in Donna's pajamas, circling, *teasing*. Sharon looked up at her with those innocent eyes, that wicked smile, and pushed two fingers inside without warning.
Donna's knees buckled. She would have fallen if Lex hadn't been holding her, his mouth still at her throat, his cock pulsing in their combined grip. Sharon's fingers curled inside her, finding that spot with devastating precision, and Donna heard herself make a sound she'd never made before—a *whine*, high and broken and *begging*.
"Please—" she gasped, not even sure what she was asking for, only knowing she needed *more*, needed *everything*.
She was going to get it.
Lex didn't hesitate. He lifted Donna as if she weighed nothing, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist, and he carried her the few steps to the bed. He tossed her onto the mattress—she bounced, her breasts swaying, her legs falling open in invitation. Before she could even settle, he was on her, gripping her ankles and pushing her legs up, folding her nearly in half, her knees pressed toward her shoulders.
He positioned himself at her entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging against her soaked folds, spreading her open. Donna held her breath, her eyes locked on his, watching the predatory hunger there. Then he began to push.
"Oh—*oh fuck*—*ahhhhhhhhh*—" The moan tore from her throat, long and broken, as he entered her. He was *thick*, impossibly thick, stretching her walls in a slow, relentless invasion that burned so perfectly she saw stars. "Fuckkkkkk... *yesssss*... *nnngh*—"
He gave her inch by inch, letting her feel every veined ridge of him, until he was halfway buried and already she was full, so full she couldn't breathe. But he kept coming, kept pushing, sinking deeper until his hips were flush against her ass and she could feel him *everywhere*, pressing against places no one had ever touched.
"Shit—*shit*—you're so *big*—" she gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to draw blood. "Lex—*Lex*—"
Sharon crawled onto the bed beside them, her eyes dark with arousal, her fingers finding her own clit as she watched them. She leaned in, capturing Lex's mouth in a filthy kiss, all tongue and teeth, her hand reaching down to cup his balls where they rested against Donna's ass.
"Yes, Lex," Sharon breathed against his lips, her voice a wrecked whisper. "Fuck her. Make her addicted to you... like you did to me..." She moaned as his hand found her breast, pinching her nipple hard. "Make her *yours*..."
Lex's free hand roamed Sharon's body—her hip, her waist, the curve of her spine—before settling on her ass. He palmed her cheek, kneading, and then *smacked*. The sound cracked through the room, sharp and obscene, and Sharon cried out, her hips bucking toward him.
Then he started to move.
"Ah—*ah*—*ahhh*—" Donna's moans came staccato, punched out of her with every thrust. He pulled back, slow, letting her feel the drag of him against her sensitive walls, then slammed back in, *deep*, hitting that spot inside her that made her vision blur. "Fuck—*fuck*—*fuck*—"
She lost track of Sharon, lost track of everything except the piston of Lex's hips, the way he filled her completely and then retreated, only to fill her again. Each thrust drove her higher, winding her tighter, the pleasure building like a tsunami. She was clawing at his back, her head thrashing, her voice hoarse from screaming—
"Oh god—*oh god*—I'm gonna—*nnngh*—"
She came before he was even fully seated inside her, her orgasm crashing over her without warning. Her walls clamped down on him, pulsing, *milking* him, and she arched off the bed with a wail that sounded like his name torn into pieces. "Lexxxxxx—*ahhhhhh*—"
But he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down.
"Fuck—*fuck*—*ah ah ah*—" Donna's moans were desperate now, her pussy hypersensitive, every thrust feeling like too much and not enough. "*Ah ah ahahaghhhh*—*oh god oh god*—"
Lex shifted suddenly, rolling them both, pulling out with a wet sound that made her whimper at the loss. But then he was settling behind her, spooning her, lifting her top leg and sliding back into her from behind in one smooth motion.
"*Mmmhhmm—*yesss*—" The new angle hit different, deeper, and Donna's moan vibrated through her whole body. She was facing Sharon now, and Sharon didn't waste a single second.
Sharon dove between their joined bodies, her tongue finding Lex's cock where it disappeared into Donna, licking the shaft on every outward thrust, then sliding up to swirl around Donna's clit when he pushed back in. The dual sensation—Lex filling her, stretching her, while Sharon's soft tongue fluttered against her most sensitive spot—made Donna's eyes roll back.
"*Fuck*—*Sharon*—*oh fuck*—" Donna's voice was barely human, high and keening. When Sharon's tongue darted lower, licking where they were joined, tasting both of them, Donna's hips bucked violently. "Oh—*oh god*—*don't stop don't stop*—"
Lex's mouth found the back of her neck, sucking hard, marking her. His hands came around to cup her breasts, heavy and swaying with every thrust, and he pinched her nipples—*hard*—rolling them between his fingers until she was sobbing with it, tears streaming down her face from the overwhelming pleasure.
Then—*god, then*—she felt it.
Lex's finger, slick with her arousal, traced the tight ring of muscle just above where he was fucking her. He circled once, twice, and then she felt it—not his finger pushing in, but something else. A *pressure*, a vibration, a phantom sensation of being touched, licked, *fucked* from the inside.
His telekinesis. He was stimulating her from within, probing places his cock couldn't reach, stroking nerves she didn't know she had, while his dick remained buried to the hilt, pulsing and thick and *real*.
"Lex—*Lex*—*oh my fucking god*—" Donna's whole body went rigid, her mouth open in a silent scream. The dual sensation—the physical fullness of him, the supernatural caress inside her—was too much, *way too much*. "I can't—I can't—*ahhhhhh*—"
Her second orgasm hit like a freight train, harder than the first, her body convulsing, her walls clamping down so tight Lex actually groaned at the pressure. But he didn't stop. The telekinetic stimulation intensified, stroking her relentlessly from the inside, and before she could recover from the second peak, a third was building, cresting—
"*Nnnngh—*ahhhhhh*—*fuck fuck fuck*—" Donna went limp in his arms, her body overwhelmed, her mind blanking out. She was still conscious—barely—but she couldn't move, couldn't speak, could only *feel* as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her, her pussy fluttering around his cock, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.
Lex finally stilled, holding her through the aftershocks, his cock throbbing inside her but not yet spent. Sharon crawled up beside them, kissing Donna's slack mouth, tasting her tears, whispering praises against her lips.
The three of them lay there, tangled and panting, the room thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Eventually, sated and boneless, they drifted toward sleep, limbs intertwined, breath slowing.
Down the hall, Kara finally let out the breath she'd been holding. She leaned against her bedroom door, her hand still inside her soaked panties, her X-ray vision fading as she blinked away the afterimages of what she'd just witnessed. She withdrew her fingers, trembling, and pulled her panties back into place, her body thrumming with unspent arousal.
She slid under the covers, squeezing her thighs together, and whispered into the dark:
"Damn... it's so fucking hot to watch him fuck those girls."
She let the image of them—of Donna limp and screaming, of Sharon's wicked tongue, of Lex's relentless power—lull her into a restless, heated sleep.