The characters from The Incredibles don't belong to me. They belong to Pixar Animation Studios (who in turn belong to the home of the Mouse, Walt Disney Pictures). Nor do I own the characters from Heroes, they belong to Tim Kring and Tailwind Productions. I'm just borrowing them and muddling them up.

Heroes/Incredibles: Heroines Part 15 - The Past is the Past (MF,Ff,inc)
by LL

The motel room was reverberating with the orgasmic screams of Mirage and the grunts of her lover. The bed, cheap but comfortable was squeaking and banging against the wall. Any neighbours were either on the phone to reception complaining about the noise or wondering how they could get a partner so energetic. Thump, thump, thump... the headboard slammed into the wall in perfect co-ordination with the thrust, speeding up as he moved.

"AAAarrrghhh, oooooohhhh," squealed Mirage. The tanned blonde writhed as her pussy was filled with large cock and her lover's muscular body crushed down against her toned, slender frame. Her make-up, so perfectly applied, was smudged with sweat and her hair, brushed to leave not a hair out of place now looked she had been dragged down the street by it. Not that Mirage cared, the fucking was so perfect that nothing else mattered except, "Fuck me, fuck me, fill me, fill me; you're incredible."

"That's what they call me," grunted Mr Incredible, aka Bob Parr. He shifted position slightly and resumed his pounding. His body gleamed with perspiration, dripping off and onto Mirage. The blonde screamed in excitement as the new position meant her erogenous zone was being hammered from a different angle. She knew from their previous encounters, in cheap motels and in the back of cars, that Bob had the constitution of an ox - he could carry on and on and on until her pussy was aching and then carry on more. Not that Mirage was complaining - his physique was one of the things that had drawn her to him, much as her sexy body was his main attraction. It made the risks of the affair worthwhile.

Another orgasm tore into her. Not one of the small mini-bursts of pleasure that rippled through her like waves on the beach. No, this was the full works - an explosion of sexual ecstasy that hit her like a Tsunami of delight, blowing her mind and shredding her nerve endings. Her back bent like it was rubber and her heels beat a rapid tattoo on her lover's back, as the scream rose up from her stomach and ripped out through her open mouth, "Aaaaaaarrggghhh..."

No one could make her orgasm like Mr Incredible. And this was her third of this session...

They both knew it was wrong. If no-one could proof Mirage was the assistant of Syndrome nor that he was behind a series a bank jobs all over the country, it was widely known - just not to the satisfaction of a Judge. And Bob Parr might work in insurance, but Mr Incredible was licensed and sometimes employed by the NSA - the Superhero's Agency and shouldn't hang around with suspected crims - never mind fuck them several times a night. Plus, he was married - Mirage smiled as she thought about Mrs Parr, slaving over a hot stove and complaining to her children that Daddy's firm always seemed to be sending him away over night, but didn't see fit to give him a pay rise. 'Someone that dumb deserved to be cheated on,' thought Mirage. Out loud she screamed, "Fuck me my incredible... fuck me so I burst!"

She didn't burst, but Bob Parr did explode. He tensed a moment before Mirage felt the cum shooting from his prick into her cunt. Her pussy tingled and quivered as her lover's goo, soaked her walls and slid down them. The seed mixed and merged with her only cum, sliding down deep into her hole. Her twat seemed full of his warmth, so much that whilst much went down, some slid up over the top of her slit lips and down over the outside of her cunt. Bob pulled out, Mirage knew he'd want another bout in a few moments, as she did, but they needed to talk first and anyway even Mr Incredible's cock needed a few minutes to recharge.

At first they lay in silence, the only sound the buzz of traffic from the freeway, muffled music from a room down the corridor and the sound of breathing returning to its more normal state. Eventually, Bob Parr spoke, "So everything ready your side?"

Mirage gave a nod, "The old warehouse is rigged to burn."

"Good," smiled Bob, "Once we get the payout it'll give us more than enough to live on for the next few years - where do you fancy Barbados, Brazil, Bahamas?"

"Anywhere," laughed Mirage, "As long as I can get a tan and you're there."

"I'll be there," the superhero leant over and kissed her nipple, "How could I not be?"

Mirage felt his cock growing again, she reached down and ran her finger over it, speeding up the process. Her pussy began to wetten again as she spread her legs, "Cum in me again..."

* * *

The plan was simple. Under the Superheroes Indemnity Act the cost of damage to private property was transferred from the Insurance Company to the US Government -with all the Government's resources they never quibbled over-small print or valuations - as long as you had an up-to-date insurance policy they'd pay. The con was simple, Mirage had hired a few floors in a warehouse, Bob Parr had provided a certificate that there were fully insured Italian and French dresses from some of the most exclusive and expensive European fashion houses their. What the certificate neglected to mention was that no money had changed hands, nor were the dresses from Europe, but cheap knock-offs from China.

Mr Incredible jumped down from the nearest warehouse, his legs bending as he landed. Seconds later Elastigirl followed him; she looked more worried, "I don't like the look of this - I think it's a trap."

Her husband shook his head, "My source is good. No Syndrome's here and with him enough proof that he's behind the thefts for him to spend so long inside he'll be claiming his pension in his cell." He had no idea where Syndrome was, but he wasn't here - this crime him and Mirage only

"I'm still worried it's a trap," said Elastigirl.

Mr Incredible smiled and shook his head. Though she was right, it was a trap, just not the one she expected and the only victims would be the US Government. Any minute he'd see Mirage and give chase... he looked around, waiting. It was his wife who saw her first, "Up there," she pointed at a window on the top floor, "Mirage..."

"You head round the back and wait outside," said Mr Incredible as he dashed for the ladder up the fire ladder, "Cut off her escape."

He was pulling himself up, even as he spoke, not looking to see if his wife had followed his instructions. He knew she would have done, they were a good team... just not compatible, not anymore... The window was open and he pulled himself into the office. Mirage was sitting on the desk, swinging her long tanned legs and looking as seductive as ever. She smiled as she saw him come in, "Mr Incredible..." she sashayed over, her hips swinging, "You have arrived."

Her perfume wafted up his nose like the scent from a rose-garden and her lips were as round and red as the roses within. He drew her closer, crushing his body against hers and feeling it quiver as his hand moved up and round her buttocks. He could have stayed like this forever, but there would be plenty of time. He broke the kiss, "You better head down the fire escape. I'll see you tomorrow..."

"Yes," she slid her legs over the windowsill and blew him a kiss, "I'll fuck your brains out."

"Looking forward to it," grinned Mr Incredible. Then she was gone.

Straight off Mr Incredible began to move into the main warehouse. He didn't have long before Elastigirl would begin to wonder if something was wrong and come in through the back; the place needed to be ablaze quickly. In the main warehouse was a stack of paper just waiting to be shipped to stationary outlets and offices across the city. He smiled, the insurance investigator would conclude it was bad luck that a gas pipe to the boiler downstairs had been knocked off the wall. Mr Incredible snapped the pipe. And even worse luck that the gas had lit. The Superhero lit a spark, watching the flame shoot out and set the paper ablaze. He headed for the back and the fire escape. Swinging his leg over the parapet he took one last look, the fire was burning brightly - by the time the fire brigade arrived it would be too late to save the millions of dollars of expensive dresses upstairs. He started to climb down the ladder of the back fire escape.

That's when it started to all go wrong.

"I've got her," yelled his son Dash. Mr Incredible resolved to have more than one stern word with his middle-child. Dash wasn't even supposed to be here - his parents were quiet clear that the superhero business was for adults not children. The superhero looked down, which was when he noticed that Dash was sitting on top of Mirage - who by now should have been hightailing it to the motel room she had rented. On top of it all his wife was heading over to the struggling twentysomething and the twelve-year old who'd overpowered her. Once she arrived there was no chance that Mirage would escape.

The woman saw it as well. She gave one last heave and threw Dash off her. The boy had been too overconfident and had been expecting her twist. He bounced along the floor as the blonde leapt to her feet. Mr Incredible leapt from the ladder, if he got to her before Dash or Elastigirl did he could hold until he got a chance to let her escape. It would lead to endless ribbing from his wife, but it was the only plan he had. He was lucky, getting to a running Mirage seconds before Elastigirl's stretching foot tripped her up. He grabbed the villain strongly, and hissed, "Keep calm, I'll think of something."

There was a scream from inside the building, it sounded human to the untrained ear. To Mr Incredible, who had been to many burning buildings it wasn't, just the sound highly heated liquid boiling through a small hole. But this was Dash's first time, "Don't worry," he shouted, "I'm going in."

"No, Dash, no," Elastigirl was screaming the words as loud as her husband. But it was too late, Dash was inside the warehouse and out of sight.

"Hold her," Mr Incredible pushed Mirage at his wife. The plan was going to hell in a handbasket, but he just had to hope that Mirage would keep her mouth shut. Even if she didn't the end of his marriage, disgrace and jail counted as nothing compared to Dash's life. He ran into the warehouse.

What neither he nor Mirage was aware when they rented a couple of floor of the warehouse was that not all the users were so careful with their storage, including a company storing some old crates of fireworks which they were hadn't sold for the fourth of July.

The explosion blew out the windows and the doors, showering both Mirage and Elastigirl with dust and glass. For a moment they both just stared and then Elastigirl started hitting her, again and again, until the police arrived and pulled her off. Mirage couldn't blame her, the plan had been foolproof until it failed and whilst Mirage had lost her lover, Elastigirl had lost her lover and son. There was nothing Mirage could say to make it better - and so she didn't bother...

* * *

The bed felt empty; it was designed for two and that was the number it should have fitted not one. Helen Parr twisted from one side to the next, pulling sheets and quilts with her, until they were as crumpled and dishevelled as if the bed hadn't been made for months, rather than this morning. She let out a moany cry of frustration - it had been months since her husband and son had been killed in that inferno. Today Mirage had been sentenced - the blonde woman still not saying anything, just standing in the dock like a statue. Perhaps if she had apologised - explained what her and Syndrome were doing it, where he was, was it a trap or just a crime gone wrong - it would have made some difference, but perhaps it wouldn't have...

She had hoped that she would feel more in control by now, more like Elastigirl and less like Helen Parr - but in her heart she knew that she would never be Elastigirl again, that boat was passed. She twisted over again and looked at the alarm clock, 'God soon it would be time to get up.' Closing her eyes she tried to sleep, but it still wouldn't come. She sighed and moved her fingers to her pussy, an old college friend had told her that an orgasm brought sleep - Helen wasn't convinced that was true, but in the worse case at least she'd be awake and being pleasured...

Her pussy was smooth and shorn; the lips quivered in anticipation as she touched them. She closed her eyes and opened her slit, moving her finger in. It felt good as she moved the digit in and out. The bed moved, squeaking gently as she touched herself. Lips brushed over her mouth; they seemed real, not a dream. Helen opened her eyes, Vi's face was over hers. Her daughter smiled, "Let me do that..."

The teenager's hand moved to her Mom's wrist and began to pull it gently away from the slit. Helen resisted; it wasn't that she was empty of desire for other women - she had always been bisexual and whilst he had remained true to her wedding vows that didn't mean she hadn't sometimes imagined and thought. It wasn't even that she was against Vi, she had long known Vi was a lesbian - Mom's know these things, and she was a beautiful one at that. There should have been an 'ick' factor about banging your daughter, but Helen didn't feel that that either, not when Vi was so sexy and seductive in her nightie. What made her hesitate was knowing that if she accepted Vi's move she'd be moving on and she wasn't sure she was ready to leave her misery yet.

"Let me do that," said Vi. Her voice was firmer and her grip was stronger, "Let me take control."

This time Helen didn't resist as Vi pulled her hand away. Immediately the finger was replaced by two of Vi's. The teen began to work them in and out, slowly at first and then quicker. Even as she prodded she probed, shifting the digits slightly with each thrust until she found the clit. When she did she started to hit it with just the right pressure and speed, driving the bud wild. It was so good that Helen wondered if she had missed Vi loosing her lesbian virginity, though that would have needed the teen to have a friend, something her shy daughter was always missing. The teen's digits hot harder and harder, bringing Helen to a peak of satisfaction. She opened her mouth and groaned, grunting out her pleasure, "Oh, oh, oh. That's good. Use your finger in my cunt... finger fuck me good."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You're enjoying your daughter jacking your cunt?" Vi moved quicker.

Helen didn't answer, she just arched and moaned. She thought that was a reply, but to Vi it wasn't. The teen paused and repeated the question, before adding "Tell me you enjoy it, tell me or I stop."

Helen didn't want that, she didn't want to return to the misery, she wanted to be loved and lusted over by Vi. She smiled, "I want it, I enjoy it. I want and enjoy my daughter's finger in my slit. I want you to finger me harder..."

Vi smiled and restarted, her fingers moving in with precision and strength, soon bringing Helen back to the pleasured state she had been in before the pause. The teen's finger hit the clit and for a few moments the only sound was the moans of Helen as her erogenous zone went into overdrive. Then Vi spoke again, "I want you to say that 'you're my whore, you're my slut.'"

'As long as Vi was touching her and loving her she would be anything,' thought Helen. She moaned once more, a guttural, low-pitched grunt of pleasure and then she spoke, "I'm your whore, I'm your slut," she paused and then continued, "I'm your fuck-toy, I'm your pussylapper, I'm your cunt on legs, I'm your bitch, your slut, your sex..."

The words seemed to drive Vi on further, her fingers slammed harder and deeper into her Mom's slot, making it seep with lust. Harder and harder Vi slammed, as Helen continued to scream and squeal, "I'll be your slut, I'll be your cunt, I'll be your dirty, cuntlicker, I'm yours, I'm yours..."

The Milf's body bent and arched, exploding with orgasms after orgasm. Her cunt was secreting juice, it soaked out, sliding over her lips and mons and dripping from her daughter's fingers. Her clit ached with the pounding it was receiving, scratched and sore as Vi's nails dipped into it, but the pain was worth it as she came again, her insides twisting and jumping like popcorn on the stove. Still Vi continued, a sheen of sweat evident on her forehead, send her two fingers down her Mom's cunt in a swish of juice. Harder and harder, faster and faster she moved, until Helen didn't think she could cope anymore and that her body was going to tear itself into a million pieces of orgasmic fury. She screamed again and again, the passion loud enough to wake the dead...

Suddenly Vi stopped. She pulled out her fingers from the dripping snatch and licked them. Helen waited as Vi sucked her Mom's cum away. The teen smiled, her white teeth lighting up the darkness, "My turn," she said, "I want your slut tongue up my sweet slot."

"Yes," said Helen, "Let me clean your slit..."

Vi lifted up her night-dress and standing up walked over the bed. She stopped over Helen and looking up Vi could see the gleam of wetness on her daughter. Vi lowered herself down, Helen's hands going up to meet her to grip her thighs and guide her into position so her smooth snatch was over the Milf's mouth. For a moment Helen paused, not because she was worrying about crossing a barrier - that had already been crossed, but just to savour the sight of the slick slot in front of her and the sensual aroma that came from it. The pause was only a moment before Vi reminded her, "Lick my cunt..."

Helen brought her daughter down the final few inches, depositing the teen's twat on her open mouth. The Mom's tongue shot out, pushing upwards and into the cunt. Helen hadn't tasted another girl since college, but the flavour was even more sweet and succulent than she remembered. She drove up and around, swirling her tongue round the slot so that she didn't miss any juice. And the great thing was that the cum replenished itself, like a magic fountain of girl juice. The Milf tongued harder, exploring and probing as she searched for her daughter's special spot. Not that she was in a hurry, the cunt was so fine it was a shame to waste cleaning it well and from the quivers and moans that Vi was making the teen was also enjoying the exploratory lapping. Vi gasped, "That's it, eat my cunt you slutty pussylicker, I want you to clean it like a dirty whore..."

The words turned Helen on more than she already was and her tongue stabbed harder, lapping and licking at the slit walls, slurping down the tasty juices. She flicked around, never licking the same spot for more than a moment, until she found the clit. She knew it was the bud, not just from the hardness, nor from the extra cum which seemed to form even as she hit it, but from the way Vi squeaked and shook as her Mom hit it, "Yesss, yessss, that's it you slut, keep it there... Harder, harder, tongue my slit you slut!"

Helen did as she was told, hammering her tongue hard into her daughter's bud and enjoying the taste of girl cum as it trickled from Vi into her mouth. The teen squeaked with pleasure, grinding her wet twat down onto her Mom's mouth, "Eat me, eat me you slutty whore, eat me!"

Suddenly Vi screamed like an electrical wire had been slid into her moist bits, her body jerking as she orgasmed, "Yesss, yessss, aaaaargghhh....aaaarrggghhh!"

She screamed once more and dropped off her Mom's mouth, turning round so she faced her, "Did that help?"

"Yes," said Helen.

That was how they became lovers...
_ _ _

If you have comments on this or any others of my stories please e-mail me at: [email protected]


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