Standard Disclaimer: This story contains erotic and graphic sexual activities.  
If you find that offensive or are under 18 years of age, read something else.  
*Dick and Babs Go To Walmart*, this ain't.  All characters and snack-cakes 
mentioned are the property of DC Comics and Hostess Cakes™ respectively and no 
trademark or copyright infringement is intended.  Please do not post this to any 
other web site without the author's permission.  No profit will be made from the 
distribution of this story except, I hope, the satisfaction of a job well done.  
Comments can be sent to jodyretro@aol.com

Author's Note: This bit of fluff was inspired by and is dedicated to a Bird with 
a similar confectionery attraction.  Thank 'E.   Like the pastry it refers to, 
this story has absolutely no redeeming value whatsoever and one serving exceeds 
the daily recommended calorie allowance for fun.

Oracle & Nightwing: Having Your Snack-Cake And...
by Jody Revenson

***

"Don't move."

"That isn't a particularly politically correct thing to say to a paraplegic."

"Just keep your eyes closed and *don't* move."

Before he draped a scarf over her eyes, Barbara Gordon had glimpsed Dick Grayson 
coming into her bedroom from the kitchen with two bowls and a spatula.  Now she 
snuggled back into the bed's soft satin pillows, her arms above her head holding 
onto the heardboard's rungs, struggling to identify the aroma that wafted so 
enticingly near her nose.  Lime?  No, not as pungent.  Papaya?  Again, no, not 
as sweet.  Definitely something tropical.  Well aware of the obsessive and 
stubborn nature of the naked young man who straddled her waist, she opined it 
was better to let him proceed without interruption than risk any more 
frustration than her current state of being blinded by a silk scarf.

She heard the scrape of the rubber spatula against one of the Tupperware bowls, 
then jerked suddenly when a cold, gelatinous substance was dropped onto both her 
tits.  Biting her lip to swallow her discomfort, she shuddered with the chill of 
anticipation as well as with whatever Dick was now swirling in circles over her 
nipples, whipping them into rock-hard peaks.

"There is some precedent for this," he murmured.  "It's a well-known fact that 
the champagne glass was modeled on the size and shape of Marie Antoinette's 
bosom."

Barbara squirmed under his touch.  The soft, pliant edge of the spatula now 
massaged the curves of her high, full breasts and she felt them swell and sway, 
tingling from base to tip.  "I love it when you talk history."

"And the first person who figured out a way to determine the ripeness of melons 
must have been a man."  He slathered her breasts with the creamy emulsion and 
Barbara shivered again, but it was a shiver now blended with the hot flush of 
arousal.  "So I can only imagine the inspiration for the creator of this."

For balance, his free hand was splayed over her stomach and his fingertips 
fluttered over the ticklish area around her ribcage.  Barbara suppressed a laugh 
and tried to pull herself higher.

"*Don't move!*  I'm going for perfection here."  He made a final revolution 
around both spheres with the spatula, then dropped it into the bowl.  "Which is 
not hard when you're dealing with perfection in the first place."  She heard the 
popping sound of Dick sucking the last glob of batter off his finger, then felt 
his lips on hers and savored a sugary sweetness that was a subtle combination of 
his own honey-wine taste and whatever confectionery mawk he'd glazed over her 
body.  His tongue imitated the action of the spatula, encircling her lips with a 
syrupy drizzle, then cutting deeper to slice into her mouth, folding around her 
own tongue with all the skill of a master pastry chef.

"Can I open my eyes now?"  Barbara strained upwards to catch another taste as he 
drew away, but Dick pressed her shoulders back firmly.  

"Not yet, Babs.  I have to put on the final topping."

She heard the bowl being put down on the floor and the other, smaller, bowl 
being picked up in its place.  Then a particle-encrusted finger was pressed to 
her lips.  She opened her mouth willingly and curled her tongue around the tip, 
gliding it sensuously down the soft skin to catch the crumbs stuck to its 
moistness.  <Coconut!>  Finally she recognized the tropical aroma that pervaded 
the room!  As she munched lightly on the granules and swallowed, Dick sprinkled 
the flakes of nutmeat over her breasts, coating them completely, patting the 
crunchy layer into place with all the finesse of Julia Child.

"Okay.  You can open your eyes."  Deftly, he slid away the silk covering.

"Omigod!"  Barbara tilted her head back and laughed.  "They're Sno-Balls!"

Truly, her bosom's pert globes now resembled a two-pack of the round, solid orbs 
of pink marshmallow and coconut-covered cake Hostess distributed with pride.

Smiling at her delight, Dick surveyed his work.  "You'd better appreciate this.  
You don't know what a hell of a time I had finding all the ingredients in the 
Cave.  Bruce eyed me for three days without comment as I struggled to mix the 
right amount of high fructose syrups and wheat glutens for the perfect 
combination of density plus elasticity."  He cupped his hands around the 36C-
sized mounds of marshmallow to check the outcome, causing her to chuckle at his 
scientific seriousness.  

"And I had to ask Alfred for the pink food coloring."  The former Boy Wonder 
imitated his faithful attendant, articulating the impeccable Pennyworth accent 
to perfection. "'But for what purpose, Master Dick?'"  He skimmed a hand over 
her stomach as he continued his tale. "You know his impression of my culinary 
skills.  40 seconds at high."

Barbara wriggled at his touch.  "What did you tell him?"

"That it was an idea for some interesting foreplay before I fucked the 
Commissioner's daughter."

She gasped as his fingers traced paths up and down the sides of her curvaceous 
torso, teasing just far away from her breasts to cause a raw tightening in her 
chest.  "Oh..."

Scooting lower down on her body, he bent over and circled his tongue inside her 
navel.  Whorls of heat billowed over her skin.  "You know, Babs, I must admit 
truthfully, the one thing I miss in our sex life is eating you."  His tongue 
traveled higher, washing up her smooth skin with cat-like efficiency, stopping 
just short of her breastbone.  "And you know what Marie Antoinette said..."  He 
blew lightly up her cleavage, sending a chill up her milk-white neck.  "Let them 
eat snack-cakes..."

His laughter was muffled as his mouth sprinkled cream-sweet kisses from her 
stomach to her ribs and back again.  His lips swept back and forth, teasing her, 
taunting her, caressing the soft sensitive hollow just below her breasts.

Barbara kneaded her fingers over his back and shoulders, urging him closer.  

"This may be one of the few times you =want= me to play with my food." 

"Please...," she moaned.  "Dick..."	

"Hard to tell where the creamy confection ends and the Sno-Ball begins."  He 
raised himself up to gaze into her glistening eyes.  "Then there's the matter of 
where to begin."  He cupped his hands again over the firm-but-springy sweet 
shell covering her firm-but-springy breasts and curled back over her.

"Some think you should begin at the side."  He bit lightly at the round swell of 
her bosom, encircling its perimeter with nips and nibbles, rhythmically munching 
at the circumference with his lips.  Barbara groaned at the surges that throbbed 
in her nerve-endings, her pulse beating loudly in her ears.

Her back arched as he lightly flicked his tongue over one marshmallow covered 
nipple.  "There're others who would start by licking off the topping."  
Delicately, he lapped at the coconut crumbs, creating a well through which to 
suckle on her pebbly hardness, stroking and laving her own pink-tipped 
creaminess.  Languidly, he switched to her other breast and repeated his action, 
sending a rush of syrupy heat through her veins.  

Barbara ran her hands through his blue-black hair and pressed him tighter to her 
as he chomped on her fluff-coated tit.  She heard the marshmallow compote squish 
onto his cheeks and he raised up with a muffled snort.  

"Babs!"

Opening enraptured eyes, she giggled at the sight of his face splotched with 
pink globs of goo.  "Sorry."

He held a stern finger up in warning.  "How would you explain to the police that 
you asphyxiated your boyfriend with a snack cake?"

"Let's prevent any occurrence of that right now."  Rising up towards him, she 
eagerly gobbled up the spongy mixture, then kissed him fiercely, their tongues 
swirling in an ambrosial nectar.

Gasping, Dick pulled back and shook his head in amazement at her passion.

She smiled like a Cheshire cat.  "Much better to die with my tongue in your 
mouth."

"I'm too young to die," he countered.  "And besides,"  his eyes flickered 
devilishly.  "I haven't finished my last meal yet."

Coiling back to his original position, Dick gazed at her heaving chest with 
lingering delight.  "For there are those..."  he whispered, trailing his tongue 
from her waist up to her sweat-sprinkled cleavage. "And I might be one of 
them...."  His tongue traveled higher, savoring her silken neck as Barbara 
writhed under his touch.  "Who might swallow it whole!"  He dove into her, 
encompassing one lush, succulent breast with his entire mouth.  Sucking, 
devouring, gorging, Dick feasted from one frosted globe to the other as she 
twisted and contorted in bliss at his gluttonous actions.

Her nipples ached with a sugary buzz as his mouth tugged at the stiffened nubs, 
pinching them lightly with his teeth, kneading them between his lips.  His 
tongue spiraled around her rose-tipped tits faster and faster, rougher and 
rougher as the Sno-Ball concoction melted away.  They bubbled and burned at his 
touch.  His hands caressed the sides of her breasts, lingering over the 
sensitive skin, causing the crimson-haired woman to involuntarily undulate her 
body back and forth in rapture.  	

As he rose up momentarily to catch his breath, Dick's engorged cock thrummed 
against her stomach and Barbara smiled.  Reaching to him, she stroked his thick, 
stiff member decisively, causing him to groan for relief.  A mischievous look 
crossed her face and she grabbed him by the ass-cheeks, hoisting him higher onto 
her chest.

She placed the slick swollen tip of his cock in the hollow of her cleavage, then 
squeezed her breasts around it.  Dick rammed forward through the confectionery 
tunnel, coating his shaft with the now gloppy amalgam.  Grunting with the 
effort, his sticky-sweet palms rubbed over her nipples with a similar rhythmic 
frenzied motion as he heaved back and forth furiously, eager for a quick 
release.

The red-flushed helmet of his cock mixed with the pink of the marshmallow as 
Barbara watched his orgasm approaching rapidly.  Her breasts held him tightly as 
he thrust harder and she lowered one hand to caress his ballsack as it dragged 
back and forth over her ribcage.  Dick brought his own hands up to trap her 
breasts around his shaft, allowing her to move her other hand over to his 'taint 
- that sensitive spot just behind the base of his scrotum - and press it gently.  
Then she slid her hand further back, and, with the lubrication of marshmallow 
fluff permitting ease of entry, inserted her middle finger into his asshole.

"Aah...Barb...," he groaned.  "I'm going to cum."

A surge of warmth diffused across the nape of her neck and radiated down her 
shoulders to her breasts as his cock bucked wildly.  She felt a pulsing in her 
throat, a buzzing in her ears as she watched his thick, gooey seed spurt over 
her breasts, joining the sweet confection already there and, in her own way, 
joined him in climax.
	
Raising a nipple to her mouth, Barbara lapped at the remains of the cum-infused 
Sno-Ball.  Then she dipped a finger in his ejaculate and slid it into her mouth, 
licking it like a cake-mixer's beater.  Her eyes glowed with an impish glint.  
"Holy Cream Filling, Boy Wonder."

The End