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Gosalyn's Gambit	By : MrFanFIction Category: +1 through F > Darkwing Duck Views: 4403 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
CHAPTER 8 - LOVE THY NEIGHBOUR
That afternoon, back the home of Drake Mallard
Drake Mallard paced anxiously in the living room and was well on his way to wearing a trench into the floor. Three cold showers since the morning and he still felt ‘hot under the collar’. At least it was slowly going away; but it was still outright embarrassing. All because he for got to burn all the pieces of the suit he wore that night. It was the mask of all things. He had never thought much about it, he had burned the fedora, the suit, the cape, even the gas masks but not the bandana mask. It made some sense. It was always the first thing he took off and the last item he put on. He came to the idea of burning the suit only some hours after when they realized its effects.
Thankfully, neither Gosalyn nor Honker realized what the full effects were. As far as they could tell, it made him binge on Hostess cakes and occasionally swear like a sailor. They did not know the half of it. At least Launchpad could be trusted to keep his beak shut on that.
It hadn't been all bad; those nights with Morgana were something to remember, especially the night with the cuffs, and those candles. He slapped himself hard.
"Clean thoughts Drake clean wholesome thoughts just keep clean wholesome happy thoughts." he muttered to himself.
It wasn't as bad as the first time but it was still there. He still had control it was just that the voice that normally held him back seemed to have developed laryngitis. Then an idea; maybe a little good old fashion dose of sunlight would help him. It was a beautiful day after all, no reason not to just bask on a lawn chair maybe take a doze instead of being cooped up and stir crazy. What could go wrong?
***
It was a lovely day and the lawn chair in the backyard was just what he needed. The sun was bright and there was even a pleasantly cool breeze with the occasional gust. He was just slipping into doze when.
"Oh hello Drake, enjoying the lovely spring weather?" the ever chipper and cheerful voice of Binkie Muddlefoot; she was looking over the fence.
"Uh yeah sure am Binkie, just catching a little R and R in the sun"
"Oh dear now I really feel bad about this"
"What’s the matter Binkie?"
“Well I could use a little well help."
He shrugged, "Well I'd be happy to. What do you need a hand with?"
The problem was the wrecked laundry line and rear screen door. Tankred Muddlefoot had been practicing his football drills; kid was a natural at it. He had the build and the aggressive attitude that made him perfect for full contact sports. He had zigged a little too much during his hustle and well, the damage spoke for itself.
"Wow, Tank either had a future in the NFL or demolition" he said, surveying the scene. He now understood where Honker's evasive reflexes came from. "But why not ask Herb to-"
He caught her look; an acerbic look he would not imagine Binkie capable of.
Herb Muddlefoot was a great guy and no outright klutz but his home repair skills were...baffling, to say the least. He could manage something major or complicated with little or no problem. Herb had set up his own automated sprinkler system a few years back and it still amazed Drake Mallard to this day. It was even been featured in better lawns quarterly, twice. With small and simple tasks however, he was a disaster. His most famous example involved him setting fire to the kitchen while trying to fix a drippy faucet.
"-or I could just do it since I don't have anything better and it would be the neighbourly thing" he finished sheepish chuckle. It half bothered him that he was being so accommodating today, but he figured it would give him something else to focus on.
‘The more distractions the better’ he thought to himself.
***
The laundry lines were the easiest. A little extra cord was all it took to tie them to the fence. Walking by a particular rock Drake had the conscience to ‘accidentally nudge it to point at the white picket fence.
"Oh my! That was fast of you Drake. You sure are handy," she chirped giving a playful pat on his shoulder before handing him Herb’s toolbox. "The door should take you no Time at all"
It wouldn't have normally but he kept getting distracted, his gaze kept drifting back to Binkie as she hung the sheets out to dry. Getting the door’s remaining hinge off took a full ten minutes longer than it should have, but he couldn't help it. That breeze he was appreciating was now conspiring against him; fluttering Binke's calf length dress about; flashing those yellow knees of hers on occasion. *thunK*. His head hit the doorframe.
"OH! Are you okay Drake?"
"Oh no just a little clumsy there Binkie, The door's as good as fixed now" he said, 'That's right Drake focus on the door;' he told himself and he obeyed. Thankfully Binkie had finished hanging things up so he was done in quick order.
"Lemonade Drake?" Binkie shouldered open the door carrying a glass of lemonade. Then she paused, stepped backwards and pushed the screen door open again, “You got rid of the squeak! Oh how wonderful! I've been meaning to ask Herb to-Eeeeek!"
A strong gust of wind kicked up and Drake who had been kneeling at the step got himself an eyeful. She was beautiful, no comparison to Morgana of course, but those legs, those golden legs that transitioned to white downy feathers at mid-thigh. Binkie had always struck him as sort of the 'good housewife' with her blue dress and apron. He would have never guessed her to be wearing black underwear, but his eyes did not lie. For five seconds the wind gusted, sending Binkie's hem to flutter about her hips.
"Oh Dear!" she exclaimed, pushing the dress down frantically.
Drake quickly looked away; it was the polite thing to do. She could probably guess what he had seen, given that he was looking up at her, reaching up for the lemonade in fact, when the gust hit. He said nothing to let on that he had seen those ebony unmentionables but the blush that Binkie slipped bank into the house with said that she assumed he had.
He collected Herbs tools and knocked before letting himself in. He had thought to quietly return to his yard but that would have been just rude. He had to at least return the toolbox and lemonade glass.
He found Binkie in the kitchen, doing the dishes.
"Uhm brought these in Binkie." he set the glass in the sink, brushing shoulder to shoulder with her. He felt electricity. "Where do the tools go? The garage or?"
"Oh, uh under the sink, she stepped aside so the sink cupboard could be opened.
He would chalk what happened next up to that damnable chemical. As he crouched by Binkie's legs to put the toolbox away, against what his now absent better judgement, he spoke.
***
Binkie was still flustered and embarrassed. Of all the people for that to happen in front of. She was thinking very un-charitable and un-ladylike things about the wind when Drake stooped to put away the toolbox; she turned her attention back to the soapy dishes. Then she heard him speak.
"You know Binkie I uh, never figured you for wearing black"
She froze, "Y-you saw?" she knew he saw but it wasn't anger or shame at being exposed that had her flushing red again, it was something else.
"Was uh kinda hard not to see there Binkie. Saw the knees and well, worked my way up"
Bless him he was trying to set her at ease about the whole thing by being so casual, but was that really so bad? She started soaping up another plate,
“You were, following my legs?". Her mind was frayed, She heard Drake mumbling something about not meaning to but paid no heed, "Did you like them?"
She heard the cupboard door close and felt him shift, probably just an accident but still she could feel his shoulder against her leg, his cheek against her thigh.
"Could only like what I saw there Binkie *ahem* Not that I was-"
What she said next surprised her as much as it did him. Binkie would never know what compelled her, maybe she had always harboured some secret desires to Drake Mallard, he was handsome, athletic, intelligent, even a little charming. Was it just the whole situation? She would never know why she said what she said but she would never regret her words.
"You can touch them... if you want."
***
It caught Drake off guard in the worst possible way. He had just wrangled control of his beak through mental will but that control just slipped away thanks to that. He shouldn’t, but why not? She had invited him to; it was good enough for him.
His hands encircled her ankle and worked upwards. He could feel her shivering, but she didn't brush him away even when his hands went up past her knees she offered no protest, just a slow sigh as she absently rubbed the sponge over the plate.
"Binkie...” he said and that's all he said when his fingers felt the transition from smooth skin to soft feathers.
He stroked back down from those thighs all the way to her ankles then his hands were moving up again.
Those legs were hardly still; Binkie Muddlefoot was squirming. shifting her weight from foot to foot. His hands brushed feathers again moving an inch higher than they did before then back down. Binkie was saying nothing though she was certainly washing that one dish for a long time. When his hands started their second ascent, Binkie was trembling. Skin transitioned to feathers as his fingers slide over those thighs, higher again. Now downy feathers gave way to cotton fabric that he knew to be black.
***
Binkie Muddlefoot always considered herself a good wife, a good mother and a good housewife. She had always loved Herbert; he was a sweetheart kind, and caring. The other girls said he wasn't too smart but she didn't care, she loved him. She loved their kids but now here she was, squirming and panting wantonly as her friend and neighbour’s hands; firm, deft, gentle hands caressed her legs. She had after all told him he could.
When those fingers touched between her thighs, she let out a gasp. She knew he would be able to feel how damp they had become, how warm she was. Why was she feeling like this? She never had such feelings for Drake, but the way those hands moved, they weren’t just groping, they were touching, feeling, responding to her. The plate in the sink was scrubbed to a mirror finish but she still worked the sponge over it as Drake's hands work their way up again.
The anticipation was driving her up the wall. The black cotton was damp when Drakes fingers first touched her there; now they were wet. She gave a shrill gasp. This was not fleeting touch. Those fingers were firmly massaging the sodden cotton, pressing the fabric between those sensitive lips... then stars flashed before Binkie Muddlefoot’s eyes. She heard herself squeal in ecstasy. Ten seconds, that's all it had been. She felt him tug the crotch of her panties to onside... Both hands, the fingers of one found her clit and thrummed it, while two fingers from the left squelched wetly into her snatch.
Binkie Muddlefoot came. She could hear herself, panting and gasping, but as if from a distance. Her knees were weak she leaned forward to brace her elbows against the kitchen sink. The fingers were gone now. She could feel them; the fingers wet with her juices, sliding down her quivering legs. She heard and felt Drake, wonderful Drake, moving. Those hands were moving up again and this time she felt the cool air as the hem of her skirt came up with them. She turned her head just in time to see Drakes head Ducking under the back of her dress.
'Surely he's not going to-' the thought died before it was finished, a casualty of Drake Mallard's very talented beak.
***
He had given up trying to figure what was going on. He knew, it was that chemical. He wanted to apologize to Binkie, but she seemed to be enjoying it as much as he was. He had heard that shrill orgasmic squeal when he started working his fingers into her snatch. Was this the real Binkie? He wondered as he sank back to a crouch, Letting Binkie cool down for just a minute before he started working up the back of her dress.
His cravings were not sated yet.
When your girlfriend is a part succubus seductress, a fellow learned a few tricks and Drake Mallard was happily putting those tricks to work. He didn't need to see to find what he was after. His nostrils led his beak straight to Binkie’s sopping wet panties. Things were about to get a lot wetter. He slid his hands up to knead her hips, holding them firmly while his beak rubbed firmly against her. She had a pleasant smell, he though; not like Morgana, but a pleasant smell.
The way she was now moaning and shuddering he guessed this was the first time anyone had eaten Binkie Muddlefoot. He found the waistband of those panties and tugged slid them down. This was going to be day of firsts for Binkie.. Panties down, her muff and rump exposed to him. Drake Mallard licked his beak, then, he licked Binkie.
***
He was! He really was!
Oh she'd heard about such things from the girls at the parlour, she'd never brought it up with Herb though. Sweet Herb was no slouch in bed but he wasn't the most imaginative sort. She felt her panties sliding down her legs; she was trembling again. The most inventive thing she'd done with Herb in seventeen happy years of marriage was doggie-style with the lights on and that was on their honeymoon. Then Drake Mallard's tongue flicked against her snatch. She was panting hard again, her hips squirming and rocking in Drake's firm grip.
'Oh heavens!' Binkie gasped out.
Heaven was exactly where she was when she felt that tongue pushing into her damp snatch in what must have been the lewdest French kiss in history. Oh that beak! He knew! This man knew. She had entertained some ideas about Drake Mallard, what with him being a bachelor and sharing a home with that Launchpad McQuack fellow. She would never think that again. This man knew his way around a woman!
“Oh My!' she squealed as that beak pinched gently at her clit; Drake Mallard knew how to treat a woman right! Herb, bless his heart, never could quite manage the right touch. When he touched her clit, it was as if by accident. Drake knew though. Then the tongue and beak were gone. She moaned, but relished the chance to catch her breath. She was already at the edge and she wanted it to last longer. It was a surprise for Binkie when that beak nudged under her tail-feathers! Then his tongue slide between her cheeks. It was a sensation entirely out of Binkie’s realm of imagining. It just felt so strange. Not unpleasant, but strange, then, pleasantly strange as she got used to it. His beak dipped back between her thighs. Heaven again. Then he was back to her ass, with her snatch still dripping.
"Ooooh" Binkie cooed. She was starting to like that strange feeling.
Somewhere in the back of Binkie's mind, there was a nagging thought but vanished when Drake's beak pushed between her thighs for the third... or was it fourth time. Dizzy as she was, she could barely keep track of her name and when Drake's tongue squirmed and wriggled its way inside her, she forgot that as well. Her breathing quickened, her heart thumped rapidly and her body jolted! Binkie Muddlefoot climaxed twice in one day for the first time in her life. The only thing keeping her up were her elbows on the sink-counter and Drake's firm hands on her hips, her legs had lost all strength. Still her neighbour lapped and licked at her juices... He knew how to bring a woman down and how to keep her peak going, for a full two minutes.
The tongue stopped and Binkie Muddlefoot recalled her name, age, and the names of her two children.
"Oh Drake, oh Drake... I-" she panted lustily.
"Binkie... can you pass the cooking oil?"
It was an odd request but Binkie's housewife instinct kicked it, she reached up to the cupboard, took the bottle of cooking oil in her trembling hand and passed it to the man behind her. Her mind was in no state to question anything; she was still trying to remember what day it was.
***
Drake took the bottle from his neighbour’s trembling hand. It was time. His pants undone and his dick out, he poured generous amount of the oil into his palm and started stroking it into his dick. It was corn oil. He chuckled internally and conveniently apropos lubricant. He flipped the blue dress over Binkie’s back and slowly rose.
"Just relax Binkie... this might feel a little weird at first but " he whispered, guiding the swollen head of his cock under her tail feathers.
"Drake what are you..."
In the glare of the kitchen window, Drake saw the change of expression on Binkie Muddlefoot’s face, from orgasmic stupor to confusion
He pressed forward spreading her tight virgin pucker around the throbbing head of his cock. She gasped. Confusion gave way to wide-eyed, slack-jawed surprise. No more words. Just a shocked panting gasp as he rocked his hips back and pressed forward again; spreading the ring of muscle , the head of his cock now slipping deep into her 'forbidden' passage. She was tight. First time he wagered. He rocked back and thrust forward again, four inches of cock now slid in. Oh, she was so tight! And warm. He could feel her clenching.
"Easy Binkie almost in...” he rocked back and poured more oil over his shaft and pressed forward. He heard her gasp and squeal again, then felt her shudder when his hips touch her rump. He stayed that way for a good minute, letting his neighbour adjust to the strange intruder.
When her breathing steadied, he slipped an arm about her hips while the other pulled the front of her blouse open. . He gave her right breast a squeeze and his hips started again, back then forth, in then out. And Binkie moaned and gasped with wanton lust. She liked it. When she started pushing back to meet him he realized Binkie Muddlefoot, sweet all American apple pie baking housewife, was getting ploughed in the back nine and loving every inch of it.
He sped up, making his thrusts deeper at the same time. Pulling five of his seven inches out each time.
"Oh Binkie *nnf* so tight. *unf* You want more *nnf* don't you? Let me hear you say it"
"G-Give it to me Drake, faster..." her voice had taken a sultry, lusty tone. Oh, she was really loving it. and he was happy to comply.
His hips smacked wetly against her each time. One hand toyed with her oh so erect and perky nipples, the other slipped from her hips to that sopping wet snatch of hers to flick a finger over her clit. Binkie clenched down around him and thrust herself back. Faster, faster and faster. It wasn't just the oil that was slicking that forbidden passage. There was a healthy amount of Drake Mallard's pre cum and after another minute, it would be his cum as well. He bucked hard that last time and Binkie let out a now quite familiar squeal they had both come. He leaned forward. His hands planted on either side of Binkie's panting form.
"D-Drake...you have to go" she panted, "School." was all she could add and Drake immediately understood. Binkie may have been fucked out of her mind but those housewife instincts were still strong. She knew the school bus would be dropping of their children in not more that twenty minutes.
Drake's mind was a bit clearer now. With his lust sated, he could think straight. He withdrew. Slowly, savouring the feel of her forbidden passage one last time. They both knew this would likely never happen again. This was an unspoken truth between them. This had been an accident. Drake, did not love Binkie Muddlefoot nor did she him. They both knew this Drake redid his pants and Binkie tugged her panties back up. She would need to change them in short order and then looked back to Drake. She wanted to say something but could not find the words. She led him out the remounted and squeak free back door.
He bade her good day and returned to his yard. Then Binkie Muddlefoot found the courage to surprise Drake Mallard once again for the afternoon.
"I'll wear black next time too" she called.
Drake stopped and looked back wordlessly and saw Binkie's usual cheerful smile.
"...You know, Just for fun" she giggled and turned to skip back into the house. He didn't know it was the chemical or not but he was sure Binkie just gave him an invitation. Maybe there would be other times.
***
Binkie surprised herself yet again but she had no regrets. She still loved Herb and Herb was going to be in for quiet the surprise tonight, she winced a bit as she skipped; her tail feathers were going to be sore for the rest of the day. She would wear black again, someday. Maybe. She couldn’t help but wonder what else her dear Neighbour might teach her.
That night was one Herbert Muddlefoot would not soon forget. Three times in one night, once for every position Herbert Muddlefoot knew. Including Doggie Style.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
As promised I made this chapter a little extra saucy. Stay tuned folks. The next Chapter is the grand Finale.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Gosalyn's Gambit