aFireFist
A Life in DC
Chapter 13 - Part 1
The rain in Gotham never just fell. It came down in heavy, slanted sheets that turned the docks into a slick black mirror, reflecting the broken sodium lights and the rusted skeletons of old cranes that hadn't moved in years. Water ran in thin rivers between the cracked concrete and collected in shallow pools that smelled like oil and low tide. Vieri parked two blocks away under a flickering streetlamp and walked the rest. His boots splashed through the puddles with every step. The warehouse they had agreed on sat at the end of a dead-end pier, corrugated metal walls streaked with decades of grime, salt, and bird shit. The air was thick with diesel, wet rope, and the briny stink of the bay.
He knew this had to work. If the Queens kept making noise, IA would keep digging. The task force would get shut down. His quiet little life—the brick house in the Heights, the steady paycheck, the ability to stay a ghost in a city that ate people—would burn. He had spent years coasting on the edges of other people's stories. One bad week of headlines and that was over. The rain soaked through the shoulders of his jacket as he reached the side door. He pushed it open. The hinges groaned like they hadn't been oiled since the last century.
They were already inside.
Selina stood near a stack of rotting wooden crates, arms crossed under her full C-cup tits. The black catsuit was zipped only halfway up, leaving the soft inner curves of her breasts on clear display. The leather clung wetly to her long legs and thick thighs, the firm, round ass she worked hard to keep sitting high and tight. Water still beaded on the leather from the walk in, running in slow trails down the curves of her hips. Her dark hair was damp at the ends and stuck lightly to her neck. She looked composed—shoulders back, chin level—but her eyes tracked him the second the door opened. She was waiting for the line. He could feel it in the way she held herself, like a cat that already knew where the mouse was going to run.
Harley bounced on the balls of her feet a few yards away, pigtails swinging with every hop. The red-and-black jester top was cut so low her heavy D-cup tits threatened to spill out completely; every bounce made them jiggle hard and pushed the thin fabric to its limit. Her nipples poked stiffly through the material, clear even in the low light. Short shorts hugged her thick thighs and the generous, rounded curve of her ass so tightly the lower cheeks peeked out when she moved. She grinned the second she saw him, wide and bright and already filthy.
"Daddy!" she called, voice high and bubbling over the rain hammering the corrugated roof. "You actually showed. I told them you would. I already practiced the face I'm gonna make when you cum down my throat again—eyes rolled, tongue out, the whole dumb slut look. You like that one."
Ivy leaned against a rusted support beam farther back, one long leg bent, the other straight. The green bodysuit clung like it had been painted on—full, heavy tits straining the material with every slow breath, narrow waist flaring into wide hips and a thick, juicy ass that shifted and jiggled slightly when she pushed off the beam. Living vines curled loosely around her wrists and upper arms, dark green against her skin. Her red hair hung damp and heavy down her back. She watched him with that cool, assessing look, like she was measuring the quality of soil before planting.
"You're late," Selina said. Her voice was calm, but there was a thin edge under it. She didn't move from the crates. "We already had the same argument twice while we waited. I'm not doing a third round of it."
Harley spun in a little circle, heavy D-cup tits bouncing hard enough that one almost slipped free of the low top. "It wasn't an argument. It was a discussion about who gets first turn on that thick cock. I vote me. Ivy votes the Green and some sacred dirt ceremony. Selina votes herself because she's boring and needs to feel special."
Ivy's vines twitched once. She stepped away from the beam. Her full, heavy tits swayed under the tight green suit with the movement. "The Green already chose. This meeting is formality. He felt it when he filled me last time—the way the life-force moved through the soil and the roots. He knows what comes next. The two of you are still pretending this is about schedules and police paperwork."
Selina's jaw tightened. Her full C-cup tits rose under the half-zipped catsuit as she took a slow breath. The leather creaked across her thick thighs. "We're not doing the sacred seed speech again. He sent a short, boring note about meeting to talk. So we're talking. That's it."
Vieri closed the door behind him. The rain noise dropped to a steady, heavy drum on the metal roof. Water dripped from a dozen leaks in the ceiling and collected in shallow pools on the cracked concrete floor. The warehouse smelled like old diesel, wet wood, rust, and the faint underlying musk of three women who had been arguing in a closed space for a while. He kept his hands visible and his voice even.
"I'm here to make a deal," he said. "Simple one."
Harley clapped her hands once, thick thighs flexing under the short shorts. "Deals are hot. Does the deal include me calling you Daddy the whole time and you still wrecking my throat whenever I want?"
"Harley," Selina said without looking at her. The single word carried enough warning that Harley only stuck her tongue out and kept bouncing lightly on her toes.
Ivy stepped closer. Her heavy tits swayed again under the green material. The vines on her wrists tightened a fraction. "Speak. The Green is listening."
Vieri looked at each of them in turn—Selina still by the crates with her arms under her full tits, Harley half-dancing in place with her heavy breasts jiggling, Ivy standing with that cool planted-feet posture and her thick ass cocked slightly to one side.
"The task force is under pressure," he said. "Internal Affairs is watching every empty raid and every headline you three generate. If you keep hitting big targets and making the city look at us like a joke, they shut the unit down. My captain loses his job. I lose the ability to stay quiet and keep showing up when you want me. Everybody loses."
He let that sit for a second under the rain noise. Water dripped somewhere behind him in a steady plink-plink rhythm.
"I need you to go quiet for a few weeks. No big scores. No viral videos of you three making the department look useless. No city-wide chaos. Small jobs only if you absolutely have to. In return, the arrangement stays regular. Exclusive to the three of you. You get what you want from me on a schedule that actually works instead of random break-ins and pollen ambushes. No more guessing. No more showing up at my house unannounced unless we agree on it first."
Harley's heavy D-cup tits rose with a sharp breath. The thin top stretched tighter across them. "Exclusive? Like… only us? No more random detectives getting the same dick we've been sharing?"
Selina's eyes narrowed. Her thick thighs pressed together under the wet leather. "He didn't say that."
"I'm saying the three of you," Vieri answered. "That's the deal on the table. You three. Regular access. In exchange for quiet."
Ivy's voice stayed cool and even. "And if we refuse?"
"Then IA stays on the task force. They dig until they find something that sticks. Eventually someone bigger steps in—Batman, federal, another player who doesn't care about your feelings or the Green or who gets to call me Daddy. The decision gets taken out of your hands. Out of mine too. We all lose the arrangement the hard way."
Selina shifted her weight from one boot to the other. The leather of her catsuit creaked across her thick thighs and the firm, round curve of her ass. Rainwater still glistened on the soft inner curves of her full C-cups where the zipper was open. "You're asking us to pull back so the cops look competent for a change."
"I'm asking you to pull back so the cops stop looking for reasons to put all three of you in a hole you can't climb out of," Vieri said. "And so I can keep showing up when you want me without my badge becoming a liability that gets all of us burned."
Harley bounced closer, short shorts riding up her thick thighs until the lower curve of her ass showed clearly. Her heavy tits jiggled with every step. "I can do quiet. Quiet is boring as hell, but if it means more Daddy time and that thick cock on a regular schedule I'm in. As long as I still get to call you Daddy and you still wreck my throat and my cunt whenever I ask nice."
Ivy crossed her arms under her full, heavy tits, pushing them up so the green material stretched tight across the soft weight. The vines on her wrists tightened until they left faint pale marks on her skin. "The Green doesn't pause for police paperwork. If he is what I felt when he spilled inside me, holding back is wasteful. Seed should be planted, not scheduled around Internal Affairs and their little checklists."
Selina stepped forward until she was only a few feet from him. Rainwater still ran in slow trails down the open V of her catsuit and between the soft curves of her full C-cups. The black leather clung to her thick thighs and the firm, round ass that sat high and tight. She looked him straight in the eyes, calm and stubborn and already a little flushed under the damp hair stuck to her neck.
"We'll listen," she said. "But I want something clear before any of us agree."
She didn't blink.
"When this conversation is over, you're going to look at me and tell me I'm your favorite. Out loud. In front of them."
Harley gasped, delighted, heavy D-cup tits rising hard under the thin top. "Oh my god she's actually doing it. I knew it. She's been weird all week—checking her phone, pacing, getting that little crease between her eyebrows every time someone said your name. She's been dying to force this."
Ivy's mouth curved in a thin, sharp smile. The vines on her arms shifted. "Temporary favorites are still temporary. The Green doesn't rank its tools."
Selina didn't look away from Vieri. Her thick thighs pressed together under the leather. "That's the condition. You want us quiet for your task force and your quiet little life? You say it. Clear. No dodging. No 'we'll see.' Out loud, in front of these two, before any of us walk out of here."
The rain kept hammering the corrugated roof in a steady, angry rhythm. Somewhere outside a foghorn groaned across the bay, low and long. Water dripped from the ceiling into the shallow pools on the concrete. Vieri felt the weight of all three of them watching him—Harley already half-turned on and bouncing slightly on her toes, Ivy measuring him, Selina waiting with that calm, stubborn focus that had always been more dangerous than Harley's chaos.
He could give the line right now. It cost nothing and bought the deal clean. Or he could make them work for it and keep the leverage a little longer.
Harley closed the last distance and put both hands flat on his chest. Her heavy D-cup tits pressed against him through the thin red-and-black top, soft and warm and already tight at the nipples. "Come on, Daddy. Say the words so we can stop talking and start fucking. I've been wet since I walked in the door. My shorts are already a mess. Just say she's your favorite so I can get on my knees and show you what a good girl looks like."
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