Purr-fectly Naughty: Marvel's Feline Fuckery

In the shadows of Gotham, Catwoman's sleek form prowls, her costume a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. She stalks her prey, her heels clicking on the cold stone floor, the sound echoing her racing heart. Her fingers trace the whip coiled at her side, a silent promise of the pleasure to come. She cornered her target, a wealthy businessman, in his lavish penthouse. His eyes widen as she approaches, her scent a mix of exotic flowers and her own musk. She pounces, pinning him to the wall, her claws digging into his tailored suit. Her purrs fill the room as she grinds against him, her wetness soaking through her catsuit, leaving nothing to the imagination.

• cat-woman
• marvel

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