Atlee stared at the television from the comfort of the couch she was stretched out on and the blanket she was cuddled up in. This garden hose seemed like an extraordinarily cumbersome, even dangerous product. She didn't know how anyone could buy them without this 'Hose Hitch' that could be bought for such a low, low price, and with only a few easy payments. How could such a necessary invention be advertised in the middle of the night? She would have to talk to Karen about getting one.
The door sweep open, letting in a sound of giggling and hushing. Atlee thought of making the effort to look over the back of the couch and see who'd come in, but Karen was suddenly there anyway, leaning over to her. "Hey, Atlee. Feeling better?"
"A little," Atlee said. "I think I might've gotten some backwash from the Parasite when he drained my powers. Superpower backwash. So gross."
Karen patted her on the head. "I know, baby. Just keep resting, it'll all come back to you. I'm just gonna go to my room and listen to some music, okay?"
"Yeah," said Atlee, who was usually not given Karen's itinerary. "Want me to show you how to skip ads on Spotify again?"
"No, you should rest. And I don't need you to figure out technology. You live in a hole."
"Uh-huh."
"I'm not
old.
"
"No."
"But I mean it," Karen insisted, drawing Atlee's blanket further up her body and bunching it underneath her. "Sleep. If you need anything, call me on my phone. I won't be able to hear you calling me with your voice. Not with my music playing. And you really shouldn't try to walk to my room. So just call my cell phone, I'll have it on vibrate, and I'll come over to delight you with my youthful charm and girlishness."
"Yes," Atlee agreed. "What kind of music will you be listening to?"
"R-rap. I don't know. Rap. You should sleep."
Karen hastened off. As she walked down the hallway to her own room, Atlee thought she heard a voice say "Smooth!" under their breath, and Karen reply, equally under her breath, "Shut up!" But it could've just been that she was tired. And, despite not yet knowing what number she would need to call to get the Plastic Puncher
and
the Can-O-Filleter for no extra charge, she slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
"上手ですね!" a man shouted. "Karen, this is the tightest, wettest,
best
hole I've ever fucked!"
Atlee jerked up. Without her head buried in a cushion, she easily heard Karen's familiar, sardonic laugh. "More like the only hole you've ever fucked."
"How do you keep your cunt so fucking tight?" the man asked, Atlee now picking up a tinge of a Japanese accent as she rose from the couch.
"I save it for you, asshole!" Karen cried. "Now shut the fuck up before she hears you!"
But Atlee was already down the hall, peeking into Karen's room. Suddenly, she felt like her powers had been drained all over again. It wasn't the words that made her feel woozy. She recognized Karen, and the man fucking her. Hiro Okamura had Power Girl pinned to the bed, the little pervert on top of her, his slender body almost swallowed up by her abundant curves, his head lost between her breasts.
He was pumping between her open legs, her knees rubbing the sides of his body as he drove himself into her cunt. Karen seemed almost relaxed by his huffing and puffing, taking it like she would a massage—"mmm, yes, that's nice, like that, baby, keep going"—while Hiro grunted and groaned, telling her she was a goddess, a beauty, the perfect woman.
Atlee wanted to break and run—clearly this was somewhat very private, taboo, possibly illegal. Hiro was young enough to be—well, not Karen's son, she really wasn't that old, but maybe her nephew? From an older sister? Like, if Karen were the youngest of four or so kids, and the oldest had a son...
Atlee wasn't really trying to figure it out. Her eyes were darting around, taking in every detail of this lewdness. If she hunched down and leaned inside the room a little, she could see Karen's perfect cunt being opened right up, her labia obscenely kissing Hiro's cock. She watched Hiro run his cockhead up and down Karen's liquid slit, making it gleam with her juices, then ram it back inside. Atlee swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly full of cotton. She couldn't believe she was seeing this. She couldn't look away.
"Fuck me more," Karen ordered, her brusque voice seeming so loud that Atlee wanted to clap her hands over her ears.
Her body was undulating in obvious arousal, dancing into Hiro's steady pumping, teasing and fulfilling him all at once. Atlee didn't understand how sex could make Karen so... so...
slutty.
She was a sensible person, Atlee knew, not the type for flights of fancy or reckless, impulsive behavior. In fact, she chided Atlee on occasion for not thinking things through. Yet here she was, begging for the cock shooting deep and demanding inside of her—doubling up and locking her legs around Hiro's wrist to pull herself even more firmly onto his cock.
"YES!" Karen huffed, gasping for breath, her tongue flicking out obscenely. Her entire body went limp, but Hiro kept fucking right through her orgasm, Karen smiling dazedly as her pleasure started all over again. "Give it up for Japanese efficiency..."
Atlee couldn't imagine what was so great about having such an ugly thing shoved into you, especially into such a tender place. Her fingers drifted down to her crotch and idly covered it, as if trying to hide it from such a clear threat. She was a little surprised to find a wetness, maybe the size of a silver dollar, in the front of her canvas shorts. It was the slick, sweet-smelling stuff that came out when she saw Nightwing walking around, his firmly muscled ass rolling slightly, his strong arms flexing, his flesh possessing some strange alchemy that could only be understood by touch, not sight.
Atlee realized what was happening to her. Seeing how Karen wanted Hiro was making her want him as well. And seeing how Hiro wanted Karen...
Her body was rebelling against the idea of only being an observer in this, not a participant. She held up her soaked fingers, and in the darkened apartment she could still see a certain sheen by the light inside Karen's bedroom. Her fingers trembled as they approached her lips. Her open mouth. Her tongue.
She tasted. It was good.
"You're so beautiful, Karen, I can't believe how beautiful you are, can't believe I can touch someone so—"
"You're doing a lot more than touching me, stud."
Atlee couldn't help herself. Her hands went back down the front of her shorts. She found her sex again. Her fingers stroked along the lips of her labia, more sensitive than ever. She felt need, hot and electric, blast through her body. Atlee had to sit down. Her ass plopped onto the carpet.
"What was that?"
"That was you
not stopping
and I'd better keep hearing it, lover-boy. Back to work!"
Atlee didn't think of her best friend, her mentor being in those tangled sheets, under that pumping body. She thought of herself. Her legs opened so divinely, a thrillingly virile manhood powering inside her, everything so delightful, so naughty—Atlee moaned softly, imaging what it would be like as her fingers worked faster, her middle one knuckle deep inside herself. When she closed her eyes, she floated. Like the sensations were carrying her out of her inexperienced body.
She wasn't Atlee any longer, she was Power Girl. Smart, confident Power Girl who could have any guy she wanted. And did. The finger inside her turned into a real cock. It fucked her just like Hiro was fucking Karen. She mouthed along with their dirty, dirty words.
"Oh, baby, that prick is filling me right up. Ride me, Hiro, ride me hard."
"Hard as I can! You're sucking me in—feels like I'm fucking a vacuum cleaner!"
"I've been called worse."
