The annual Super Hero's Ball was normally a rather boring affair. The hierarchy of the Super Hero community would gather in their cliques and their teams, speaking so highly of their exploits while giving condescending pointers and tips to the less famous Super types.
As you would imagine, Superman was the ringleader, playing his silly, sophomoric practical jokes on Heroes too weak to stand up for themselves. Batman and the Flash would join in on the mocking and berating, getting all out smashed and making life hell for anyone without at least three running comic book titles.
Power Girl, as very much a D list super heroin herself, tried her best to not attend such lame super hero gatherings. She'd get the usual objections to her oversexualized costume, which emphasized the supple, completely natural, amazingly bouncy, and full on jiggly set of 40 Double D breasts she so casually lugged around in a white jumpsuit with a large window of cleavage showing. Plump, creamy thigh spilled into a shapely leg, slipping into knee high, platform blue leather boots, and her sleek, stylishly cut bobbed blonde hair swooped along chin angle, sweeping to almost cover one soulful blue eye.
She was young, beyond sexy, and completely forgettable as a Metropolis super hero. With some convoluted backstory somehow linking her to Superman, but foggy on the details, she was regarded as a mid card entity at best when it came to the hero business. She slinked into the ball, trying her best not to be noticed by the already plastered senior members of the Justice League, giggling like fratboys as they spiked the punch.
Blue eyes scoured the party, heels clicking loudly on the gymnasium floor as she searched the invitees. There was The Great Lobstro, Marble Man, The Sharkster...an assembled mess of Metropolis Super Hero trash fresh out of super hero training, the ink not even dry on their licenses.
And then she saw him.
Gasping, the hairs on the back of her soft white neck stifling and tingling, Power Girl was even more enamored than when she saw him on the local news.
Captain Smashums had made quite a name for himself in a relatively short time. Only two months in the business and he was the talk of Metropolis. He was six feet of muscles and definition, with eerie corpse grey skin and lime green hair and eyes. Black circles outlined his ghoulish eyes, and his deep maroon costume was decorated at the chest with a dull silver skull, his broad shoulders encased in a set of thick, sturdy spikes. This certainly wasn't your grandfather's super hero.
In fact, not only did Captain Smashums cover all the bases of being invulnerable, being able to fly, toss around cars and buses, but he could also summon zombies and breath out a cloud of knockout gas to subdue badguys! He was square jawed, sexy, mysterious, and a rising star among the super hero community. His origin was strange and complex, having been subject to top secret government projects, being bitten by a radioactive zombie, and being born half-martian. No one really knew what Captain Smashums was, or how he got such rad powers, but he was the talk of Metropolis, which desperately needed a breath of fresh air in the stale monopoly that Superman and his glass ceiling building friends depended on.
Power girl felt a familiar tingle, a sudden warmness developing between her thighs, her nipples stiffening to an uncomfortable tightness. Chewing on her plump, glossy pink lower lip, she balled up her fists, and tried a good half dozen times to walk over towards him, finding that she couldn't.
Her confidence dwindling fast, she decided to make a quick stop by Superman's surprise punch bowl, loading up a few cheap plastic cups of snazzed up fruit punch, getting a fine sort of buzz going that dulled her anticipation and stark nervousness. Not quite seing double yet, but not really seeing single, she made her way towards him, stumbling on a thick platform heel but regaining her balance. Reaching into her voyeur-encouraging cleavage window, she mashed her tits together, making certain that they threatened to spill right out of the tight white confines of her uniform. The trick was certainly easy enough to do.
The walk across the gym seemed to take forever, and she saw that he was alone-the majority of the party was surrounding Superman and his pals, laughing at their lame jokes in hopes of being invited to one of the Justice League keg parties. He turned to meet eye contact, the bouncing, lush figure of Power Girl certainly got the Captain's attention.
She boldly walked up and extended a dainty, gloved hand. "Captain Smashums! I've heard so much about you!" Her voice came off shrill and fake, the way other girls sounded to her when they tried hitting on guys-the same sickening and shrill tone that Power Girl herself swore she would never sink to. She almost winced as soon as the words fell from her lips.
Ever the smoothie, and ever the fan of 40 double D's, Captain Smashums took her gloved hand and brought it to his cool grey lips, kissing along her knuckle sensuously, his tongue's tip licking out just enough to dab the leather of her glove. "Good evening, Power Girl." His voice was sexily mysterious, sounding as if he were some sort of specter or ghost, possessing an otherworldly echo to it.
She stared for a good long while as he kissed her hand, melting a bit, her lips forming an awed kind of gasp. "Oh...oh my. Call me Kara Girl."
Captain Smashums quirked an eyebrow at the busty heroine.
Angrily shaking her head, Power Girl corrected herself. "I mean call me Power Star-ugh! CALL ME KARA STAR." The kryptonian punch was certainly having an effect on her speaking, and her cheeks burned red.
"You're drunk, aren't you?" Captain Smashums inquired, giving her an impish kind of smirk, folding his massive, muscular arms over his barrel chest.
"Oh sure. Well, just a bit. I was nervous." She took a step forward, almost stumbling against him, her tits rocking violently with the gesture. Reaching out to steady herself , Power Star-I mean, Power Girl set her hands on his chest to keep herself from toppling over. "I..." She sighed, her voice turning into that of a crush-struck schoolgirl. "I just really wanted to meet you and I got nervous so, like...I thought if I drank some I'd loosen up, yaknow? You think I'm a loser, don't you?"
"I don't mind losers." Captain Smashums said, taking her hand and pulling her against him, lacing his massive arms round her drool-inducing waist, Power Girl letting out a surprised yelp as she was pulled so easily towards him. Drunk or not, it was not an easy thing to manhandle Power Girl, but Captain Smashums made it easy enough. "I don't mind losers at all, as long as they can dance half decent."
As if on cue, a slow song played over the crackling PA speakers. You'd think Bruce Wayne could cough up some of his fortune so they could have their shindig anyplace but a school gymnasium. Power Girl giggled and reached up to hook her arms round his thick, muscular neck, she looked up into his mysterious, hazy eyes, her enormous rack so soft and warm, mashed up against his iron solid chest. "Is it true?"
"Is what true?" Captain Smashums asked, the two of them the only people partaking of the Dancefloor.
"That you're just as strong as Superman? When you get your super hero license, you get tested physically, you get your powers rated, and you take the psych test and all that so you don't snap and take an ak-47 to a pre school one day. I heard that you are the only other Super Hero ever tested besides Superman to get an A+ class rating in Strength. Is it true?" Indeed, if anyone thought that Super Heroes were above petty gossip, they would be sadly mistaken.
"Yes, it's true." He said casually. Not boasting, not bragging, simply stating a fact. That alone made Power Girl tense, almost cumming then and there at the modesty in his voice. So many Super Heroes would try to impress her, touting the length of their batarangs or the like. It got rather stale after a while.
"And the Zombie summoning? The Knock out Gas Breath?"
"True and true."
Power Girl swooned, turning her head and laying her face down on his chest as they danced. Never before had she been so taken by both a man as well as his ultra rad assortment of super powers. "Mmmm, marry me."
"Marry you?" Captain Smashums replied. Power Girl's blue eyes bolted wide open in horror as she realized she had actually said that out loud. "I don't even know if you swallow and you want me to marry you?"
She laughed and breathed a sigh of relief. The Captain, besides being sexy, mysterious, powerful AND single, also had a great sense of humor. She smiled brightly, her sparkly blue eyes a bit impish in their gaze. She held up her gloved hand, bereft of any rings. "Put a ring on this finger and I'll swallow whatever you'd like, Cap'n."
"Now that sounds like an important decision. I mean, we just met and all." He pushed her gently away, taking her hand, twirling her in a slow circle, then reeling her back against him, capturing her in his iron embrace, a decidedly stiff cock was now trying to spear her fleshy body as they danced closely. She let out a yelp of surprise. "Do I need to give you the ring before, or after the swallowing part? Oh, and that rumor is true as well."
"What rumor?" She said, her voice a soft, girlish mewl.
"The Ten inch cock rumor." Captain Smashums said nonchalantly.
It was suddenly all too much for her. Blue eyes rolled into the back of her head, her heart raced, and Power Girl collapsed in his arms. The excitement, the booze, the intoxicating presence and sexually witty bantering of a Super Hero Stud-all of it combined to give her the faint spell of a lifetime.
OO
Power Girl awoke in a start, finding herself splayed out on the couch, a large pool of drool her reward for sleeping face down with her mouth slacked open. She looked around her cramped, messy apartment, scratching her head in confusing. She was just in the fantastically muscled grip of Captain Smashums, the sensational new rookie of the year, and now she was in a crummy Metropolis apartment. She sighed and collapsed into a seat, her heavy rack trembling and swaying with the gesture.
"Well, it was a nice dream, at least." She scrunched up her nose. "No, wait, I made an ass of myself, that dream sucked..." She looked over towards the framed poster of Captain Smashums that she had on her living Room wall and sighed, squinting as she saw a small note taped to the clear glass frame. She stood up and walked to investigate, seeing a small hand written phone number on it. Write under the number was written, in an elegant handwriting-
"Thanks for the dance. Love the Poster."
Power Girl looked down at her chest, seeing the silly name tag sticker from the dance last nite. A large, goofy "Hi, my name is POWER GIRL" written in sharpie marker. It wasn't a sucky dream at all, but all too sucky reality. She looked to the note, then to her nametag, then she looked around her slovenly apartment, then back to the large, obsessive looking Captain Smashums poster.
"He was here...he saw this dump...he saw the poster..." She covered her throbbing head with her gloved hands. "I...am...such...a...loser." She knocked herself on the forehead with a palm to emphasize each word, sighing and staring at the card he left for her. She swooned. "Even his handwriting is sexy..."
She turned to the clock, pacing back and forth. It was 2 in the afternoon, and there was no way she was desperate and or lame enough to call him as soon as she woke up. No, she had to follow the girl law of waiting like...a month or so to call. Yea, that was it, a month.
No, wait, a week. Yea, just a week.
