Kara arrived earlier than he expected.
No warning, no knock. Only the echo of boots against tile and the scent of lavender and something bitter, something harmful.
She wore the Power Girl costume now. Red and white and all cleavage. The kind of costume that didn't simply demand attention—it asked to be worshiped. Her cape swept the top of her thighs as she moved. Thighs that didn't skip leg day.
He remained, in the living room in blue work pants and white tank top, as pigeons fought over crust on the fire escape. Enjoyed it. Felt human. Grounded.
"You took my advice," Kara sneered, strolling in like she owned the apartment. "You look better in less."
He looked down at the tank top, perplexed. "It's laundry day, that's all."
Her eyes rolled, and she permitted the door to softly close with a click. "Uh-huh. Laundry day. That's the reason you're shining like a Calvin Klein commercial."
Clark shifted uncomfortably. "I was doing crunches."
"Bet you were."
She moved toward him, and it was a thing like thunder coming. Slow, deliberate, almost sensual in the certainty of its arrival. Kara didn't even slow down until she was right in front of him. Close. Very close.
"Do you always smell of pinewood and steel?" she asked.
"I believe that's just... the soap?"
"You smell like someone I wanna climb."
His brow furrowed. "That's... not something you should really say, Kara."
She grinned like sin. "Normal is boring."
Then she mounted him.
No invitation, no hesitation. She simply dropped into his lap like she owned the place—his own throne, like she was his to claim. Her weight constricted him, and not merely in surprise. His hands shifted, unsure where to place them. His thighs constricted.
"Kara—" he tried
"I've missed you," she replied, brushing away the urgency in his voice. Her fingers looped into a hold at the back of his neck. "The way you look at me. As if I'm still me. As if you can remember."
His jaw opened and closed. His fingers hovered, then fell tentatively onto the arms of the couch. Safe zone. Middle position.
Her body started to sway.
Relaxed, gentle grinding. Measured, but not forceful. Temptation.
Clark swallowed hard. "What are you doing?"
"Making you feel something again."
"I'm... already feeling something," he managed to say, his voice cracking as a boy's. "It's confusion. Mostly,"
She inched toward him. Her lips brushed against his ear. "Touch me,"
"Kara..."
"Touch me, Clark."
He hesitated.
And so he did.
Shaking, he pressed one arm to her waist, the other going up-only to stop as he had it resting just under her breasts.
She shoved his hand through the remainder of the way.
"God," she breathed, leaning into him. "You don't know what you do to me."
"This... is not right," he whispered.
"Says who?"
"We're... family
"We're survivors," she specified. "We're the last ones. That's different."
Clark tried to breathe, but his lungs refused to cooperate.
He stirred now. Wide awake. She knew he knew. He knew she knew. Her movements slowed down but became deeper, each contact of flesh to flesh deliberate, brutal in the way that it felt so right and so wrong at the same time.
"I shouldn't—," he muttered.
"But you want to," she breathed.
His face fell, his forehead to hers. Beautifully torn. Ridiculously, idiotically torn.
"I'm not stupid, Kara."
"No," she gasped, nuzzling into his jaw and kissing it, "you're just... easy to break."
And piece by piece, agonizingly, his last defense unraveled like rotting twine.
His hands moved. One to the curve of her back. The other to the top of her thigh. Holding her in place.
He didn't kiss gently when he kissed.
It was years of self-control set alight.
And the city continued to exhale outside.
Unaware that one of its gods had finally passed away—not in battle.
But to desire.
To need.
To her.
Kara rocked against him once more, her body gaining speed. A sound of fabric rubbing against flesh filled the air. His eyes went wide as he felt the reality that she did not wear undergarments. Warm heat from deep within her body scorched him in the crotch, igniting his senses.
"You're so... wet," he gasped, his voice raw with desire.
"I've been waiting for you, Clark. For us. And now I'm going to claim you. Right here. Right now."
And then Kara's hand descended to his bulging zipper. A whip crack sounded as she ripped it open in the still room, and she had him out of his pants before he had even had a chance to react. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at his enormous, thick cock, standing stiff and oozing precum.
"You're so big," she breathed, a mixture of wonder and provocation.
Her fingers wrapped around him, slowly caressing him insistently.
"Oh fuck," he moaned, thrusting his hips upwards.
Triumph glittered in Kara's eyes as she leant over him. His tip pressed against her moist sheath. She was so ready. So desperate for him.
"You're mine now," she whispered, a gentle siren's song he couldn't help but hear. "Say the words. Say you're mine, Clark,"
He swallowed, the turmoil within him evident. "I'm... I'm yours, Kara," he ultimately stated, the words escaping his lips as a confession torn from the depths of his being.
She smiled with satisfaction and settled down onto him inch by inch, slowly, his cock opening up to her tight vagina. She didn't even glance away, keeping his eyes locked as she slid inside him. The sensation of the heat of her walls enveloping him, the moist tightness, overwhelmed him, and Clark had no choice but to gasp as she enveloped him in full.
"Mm, you feel me up just right," Kara groaned, the words heavy with desire.
Clark's eyes rolled back in their sockets, his mouth agape in a wordless scream. She had him. She had him right where she wanted him. And she didn't stop there. No, she had to drive the point home—she started to fuck him.
Her hips moved in slow, sweeping arcs, grinding down against him as if she were trying to crush his bones with her cunt. And oh, how good it felt. How wrong. How right.
"Damn, Kara, you're so tight," he growled.
"Mmmhmm," she breathed, the words husky. "And you're so... thick. Like... like nothing that's ever happened to me before."
His hold on the curves of her hips strained tighter as she bounced, the firm, full breasts shaking with each bound. A fine handful, aching nipples stood erect, tiny pink sentinels. Unable to help himself, he leaned toward the one in his mouth, sucking softly.
"Yesss, do that, Clark," she snarled, pushing out her chest. Her manipulation was a dance, a dance of control and desire, a balance so fine that the man couldn't look away—and remained vulnerable to the grasp of her slick, wet pussy.
He felt the moisture increasing, the interior of her pussy constricting around his aching dick as she picked up speed. Their union resonated as a harmonious song of need—wet, consistent, and intensely passionate.
"Will you give it to me whenever I want this dick?" she asked, purring.
All Clark managed to do was nod because he felt the wet, tight pussy slide against his cock. "Yes," he managed to say.
"Good boy," she cooed softly, rocking back faster and gasping for breath. "Because I am going to need this big dick all the time, Clark. Big, thick, hard... whenever I want it."
Her words were magic, encircling him, drawing him in toward her, and he found he wanted her all the more. Control slipped from him, his mind filled with need. "Kara, I... I don't know if I can."
She did not listen to his grievances anymore.
Her eyes were half shut, and she was so aroused as she went faster and harder up and down, her body embracing him with every thrust.
"Clark," she said in a soft, teasing manner, "are you going to fight me on this? Or are you going to submit?"
He was losing the battle. The way she caressed him, how she pressed into him, and the way she dominated his body—it was too difficult to fight. He wrapped his arms about her waist, holding her closer, and pressed his hips into hers. "I... I'll submit, Kara. Don't ever stop. Please, don't ever stop."
Her smile increased, like a hunter who has caught its prey. "That's what I want to hear," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him once more. Her tongue brushed against his as she continued to move on top of him with firm passion.
But, she still had more to accomplish.
With a wicked grin, slid off him, and stood up. She grasped his wrists and steadied him to his feet. Then she leaned back against the arm of the sofa, revealing her figure in a manner that seemed to him to be captivating.
"Fuck me like you mean it, Clark," she teased, gazing at him from beneath blonde hair. "Give it to me like you're Superman and I'm just another Earth girl you've saved from the aliens."
Clark hurried toward her. He aimed himself at her the way a compass points to the north. With a grunt, he thrust into the warm, wet heat of her vagina as hard as he could. Kara's eyes rolled back, and she opened her mouth in surprise and delight.
"Fuck, yes!" she screamed, the sound resonating about the room. "Just like that! Let me know that I'm yours!"
Clark had her hips in his hands and couldn't look away from her ass as he pushed in and out of her. The only sound he could hear was their bodies colliding, and the aroma of sex filled the air. What he was doing shocked him. He was having sex with his cousin, and to make matters worse, with Kara, who he shouldn't be with.
"You like that, don't you?" she asked, smiling. "You like fucking me like you've always wanted to, don't you, Clark?"
"Kara..." he muttered with a groan, shifting his hips into hers hard.
"Call me Supergirl," she said, her voice conveying happiness and command.
But Clark couldn't talk. He was too captivated by seeing her tits bounce as he fucked her from behind, his cock disappearing into her wet pussy.
"Super... girl..." he managed to gasp out.
Kara's eyes began to twinkle. "Say it again, Clark. Say Supergirl again while you fuck me like a superhero fucks his sidekick."
He gripped tightly. The power in his arms, legs, and entire body felt a world away from the gentle hugs he reserved for his cousins. Now, he was not gentle. He punched her with all his might, and the commotion in the room became a battle cry.
"Clark, yes, just like that way, oh fuck, Superman—"
He silenced her before she got to say anything more, a firm kiss that reminded her that she belonged to him, regardless of how she felt about herself. His tongue touched hers, savoring the sweetness and feeling the want in the moan that she made as she reciprocally kissed him back, their tongues blending.
"Yesss," she hissed, her back arching as he smacked her ass again. The sting only made her pleasure greater, her pussy clenching his invading cock. "Harder, Superman! More!"
"You like that, don't you, Supergirl?" he breathed softly, his eyes shining with a fierce wanting that shook and thrilled her.
"Yesss," she hissed, her back arching as he slapped her ass again. The sting only heightened her pleasure, making her pussy clench around his invading cock. "More, Superman. Harder!"
He continued, and his hand slapped down roughly, causing her to scream. There were a lot of emotions in the touch of their skin as he inserted his veiny dick into her moist, prepared vagina. The slap sent her to a place of ectasy
Her orgasm slammed into her with the force of a meteor shower, causing her world to explode into radiantly colored streams of light. She clenched around him, keeping him inserted as the orgasm ran through her. She arched back and yelled his name, eyes closed as the sensation enveloped her. She released her juices, saturating him as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm.