Superheroes are thought of as these grandiose protectors, saviors of lives, doers of wonders. I will admit they do quite a few! Stop bank robberies, put out fires, evacuate natural disasters, distribute food, or simply provide more energy-labor-efficiency, the iron tyrant of modern economics. Even when one chooses to lump them together with their nefarious counterparts - supervillains - the math is still in their favor. But so rarely thought of are the people who are caught in the crossfire, who are hurt but not killed, left to linger under whatever terrible effects the supervillain inflicted that the hero was too incompetent to fix.
I will admit it - I complain because I am one of those little casualties, the people who get swept aside. Heroine Stops Interdimensional Metahuman Trafficking, the newspapers declare, speaking of me and a half-dozen other unfortunates from various alternate Earths. The fact that the device in question was destroyed in the fighting, that hardly even sparks interest on their parts. It simply doesn't matter what grievous ruin was done to my life - that I'll never see my girlfriend again (admittedly, I didn't have one, but it isn't as if they interviewed me to find out!), or my parents (okay, they were dead beforehand, but still!), or my friends (for some reason I don't have a lot of them, I'll confess!). I did have people I played RPGs with online who are probably wondering if I got a girlfriend or died, however! But did anybody ask me about them? Noooo. The Americans are fighting off an alien invasion in Guatemala. Isn't that more exciting?
Due to my deeply honest and forthright nature, I am forced to admit that it is. That's the way of the world. All the little miseries get thrown in the rubbish bin, including my own. Complaining about it is just a tedious waste of breath.
Especially since the very portal that drew me from my Earth to this one also infused me with superpowers; how can I complain about getting superpowers? A classic tale - average person, splattered with exotic radiation, gets superpowers. It's a classic back on my Earth, too, only it's not actually true there, and exotic radiation just causes you to die horribly. This is the world with superpowers, and one other thing…
Whatever variations in the physical laws make it so that wizards, aliens, mutants, and super scientists all coexist on the same planet? They also make it so that the women are the sexual aggressors.
That leads us to where my story begins properly… my first meeting with Perihelion.
* * *
It was a boring day. They all were. You see, the government had given me citizenship, six months of welfare, and then told me to get out there and get a damned job. My power was a useful one. I could move and perceive things at superhuman speeds, around ten times the human norm. It meant I could do whatever needed to be done ten times quicker than normal; it did not, however, mean I got paid ten times as much. As such, I chose not to work ten times as fast as normal, but instead the regular amount.
If my employers wished for me to work that hard, they should have paid me that much. This is the basic principle of market economics, to which I - and everyone, really - am but a slave. So I had returned from work, having finished my assigned tasks in the first hour of the day and then browsed the internet looking at puppy pictures for the rest of the day (the local fashion, for whatever reason, is to annotate pictures of puppies instead of pictures of cats; a strange minor point of variation I cannot explain save perhaps by reference to the gendering of the animals).
It was a surprise when I returned home to find a woman in costume waiting outside my apartment. She straightened up as she saw me, wearing a warm, almost maternal smile.
She was fit, with dark hair, an hourglass figure, and visible muscles. Of course, she was also in a bodysuit with a cape, looking rather like Superman. She even had a beauty mark - but to me, that barely even registered. If I wanted pussy, I could get it anywhere. Even if she was really hot. I could still get it anywhere. I repeated that to myself a couple times in my head to make sure it got firmly lodged in place and I wasn't overwhelmed by her feminine charms.
"You are… Roger Cooper, correct?" She asked. There was the faintest inflection of amusement at the name "Roger." It has the same tangentially lewd meaning here, but… you ever think about how there are guys called Dick, but no women called Pussy? I hadn't either, until I was confronted with the reality.
"You're blocking my way to the door," I pointed out.
"I understand," she agreed. "However, it is not illegal to stand here, therefore, I would ask you to please, listen to my request."
"I don't want to be a superhero." They were technically subsidized by various public and private groups, and therefore made quite a lot of money (the most important thing in the world), but I didn't want to get stabbed.
"I understand," she agreed, easily. "However. I think your abilities are wasted in your current job."
"I still don't want to be a superhero."
"I understand," she agreed again. "I would like to offer you a job as a… secretary, of sorts. As superheroes, we also handle a lot of paperwork. In fact, the organization I work for, handles an enormous amount. Enough that it's difficult even with multiple people handling it - they get confused, there's overlap in duties..." In other words, they were being inefficient and blaming anyone but themselves. "Someone with powers like yours would be invaluable."
"I'm working ten times as much if I'm getting paid ten times as much, too." I started to reach for the door. It swung out rather than in, so it was mostly for effect.
"Yes! That is very much possible!" She declared, proudly. "I already discussed this matter with our budget team, we can absolutely employ you at ten times the going rate if you're willing to work at ten times the going speed."
My hand paused on the doorknob, and I looked at her. I tried to think things through, my brain processing her words carefully. "How much are we talking?"
"One million dollars per year," she said, with a smile.
"Alright, done." I paused, my fingers still on the doorknob. "Would you like to come inside?"
"I- I wouldn't want to impose. You're a young man." She stepped away from the door, letting me finally open it. "It might look bad, having a strange heroine come into your home - people might think you're a cape slut."
Ah. The old double standards of this world were coming into play. I thought about her words for a second, but they didn't actually make sense - if I was a cape slut for inviting her in just the once, that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it? It was more likely she was trying to preserve her own reputation. By extension, it was more likely that she was some kind of rake or cad or pervert or sexual harasser. I just smirked at the thought, eyeing her up. She blinked at that, and her body language shifted subtly, oozing confidence now. "I can keep a secret, if you can," I told her.
There was a pause as I stepped inside my home, my door wide open. She stood in the hall, glancing to the left, then the right - then she came into my home, closing the door behind her.
* * *
Our discussion inside was over light matters, typical things one talks about when flirting or chatting. She asked a bit about my own alternate Earth, a topic which naturally I have carefully refined into a set of anecdotes the locals find amusing, while dancing around the issue of sexuality. If that comes into things, the way people look at me will change dramatically. It's things more like, the fact that our most recent President was a former wrestler, or that they made a movie about King Arthur where King Arthur, Merlin, and Galahad were all girls.
"Hahaha," she laughed, slapping her thigh at the idea. "If they were women, they'd probably fuck a ton, those three."
"Not as much as you'd expect," I told her mildly, sipping at my sun-flavored soda. One advantage of my power was that my metabolism was heightened as well, so I could eat whatever absolute garbage I felt like and I'd stay thin. Actually, I lost weight my first couple months here - thirty pounds, to be more specific, and my build was now lithe and fit rather than bone-skinny.
"Yeah, I suppose it wouldn't be very family friendly to have King Arthur run around raping the footmen," Perihelion replied, smiling warmly at me as she made an insanely crass joke. I could only wonder if that was the actual reason she had been hesitant to step into my home - that she said things like that. Was she not actually a rake? It wasn't as if every woman on the street would fuck you just because you asked; brainlessly expecting that had caused me several social difficulties when I had first arrived in this world. Perhaps she was just on notice with HR for making absolutely atrocious jokes in mixed company.
I put down my drink, burped quietly into the back of my hand (a habit I had to pick up because people looked at you very oddly when you loudly belched as a man in this world), and spoke up. "It's been nice to have the chance to talk," I said, and she started to stand, clearly expecting to be asked to leave, "but I was wondering if you would join me in the bedroom for some fun."
"Fun?" She squinted at me, glancing at the door uncertainly. "Like a board game?"
"No," I replied. "Like fucking." We'd done the pretense of flirting, we could get to the reality of sex. Assuming she was up for it.
"Oh!" She perked up instantly at that, a smile appearing on her lips. It was really easy to tell if women wanted to have sex with you in this world: all you had to do was ask. "So you are a cape slut." Yes, her concern about her reputation was probably due to sexual harassment, not being some kind of female Casanova with lines like that.
I just rolled my eyes and started removing my shirt. She shut up quickly, eyeing up my bare chest with naked lust before I started to head back to my room - she followed after me like a baby duckling.
I didn't waste time once we were actually in the bedroom. With a woman like this, there was clearly no point in foreplay or the like - she wanted to get to the sex, that was obvious. As I popped the top button of my pants, drawing her gaze downward, I began to feel annoyed that she wasn't taking off her clothes whatsoever. Fortunately, this had a simple solution: "You're supposed to get naked too," I pointed out.
Her eyes flicked back up to mine, and she actually blushed in embarrassment, but immediately began to peel and yank off her clothing, revealing that genuinely gorgeous body to the open air: the hard muscle, the full curves, just absolutely one of the most perfect bodies I'd ever had occasion to see. Even in porn, it was hard to think of a woman with a hotter, tighter body than that, which is saying something because I'd watched a lot of porn back in my own world.
As she removed her shoes with a near-desperation, practically kicking them off, eyes wild, I finally let my very, very hard cock pop free, wriggling my way out of my pants as my dick just bobbed in the air. Her gaze went right to it. She was by this point topless, her full breasts seeming to defy gravity, and now she seemed completely frozen, thumbs hooked into her tight leggings but not moving an inch downward. Her lips were even gently parted, the effect extremely arousing.
It really was absurd. Would a guy react this way to seeing a woman naked? I suppose it depended on the man. Still, I was horny, she was right there, and she wasn't doing the one thing for which I had brought here into my bedroom and stripped naked for us to do. Annoyed at her failure to hold up her end of the bargain (which, really, should have been easy), I reached for the back of her head, gently pushing her down onto her knees.
She moved like she was in a trance, until she was positioned, kneeling in front of me, topless and blushing with hard nipples. Her gaze only briefly looked away from my cock, and there was an eagerness in her eyes there that was surprising. The things she had said earlier would have suggested I was going to fuck one of the most selfish lovers in the world.
Some ungrateful people might have complained about such a surprising turn of events. I chose to enjoy it, however, as I guided her onto my cock, gently, smoothly, entering her mouth. I groaned, fist clumping up around her hair. I had a literal superheroine on her knees, sucking me off. I'll admit it, that was a common sexual fantasy I had as a boy, and as a younger man, and also at that age as well, but until I came to this world, it had been completely unattainable and ridiculous.
"Fuck," I breathed out. In response, her tongue wetly lapped against the underside of my cock, starting to really put the work in. There was an erratic, seemingly random pattern as she traced out... the letters of the alphabet, I realized, after a few long and very pleasant seconds. I could feel my legs wobble faintly, and I actually just collapsed onto my ass on the edge of the bed rather than continuing to guide her in a very delightful blowjob that was blowing my mind completely.
She didn't let my shift in position stop her; she moved forward, almost sliding across the ground, perhaps some power of hers helping - I didn't have much time to think about that, because soon she'd dived right back down my cock, swallowing it up in a gliding movement that saw my entire length wedge itself in her mouth and throat, those lips of hers quietly suckling on the base of my dick. She wasn't even looking at me now, just closing her eyes and seeming to luxuriate in the action she was engaged in.
She wasn't still, of course. Even with her lips wrapped around my base, her tongue kept wriggling. She'd suck, pressurizing the inside of her mouth. She'd swallow, these wet, thick noises that seemed to echo in the room, and definitely made my cock throb vibrantly inside her throat as she worked me over. I was completely putty beneath the assault, my legs wobbling faintly. I could only think that she really should have lead with "I give fantastic head" rather than "You are a cape slut," because my impression of her was completely different now that she'd given my cock a good once-over.
She slid off my length with a wet pop, a thin trail of saliva stretching from her lower lip all the way to my cock. My length faintly twitched in the air, and she smiled gently at it, even going so far as to kiss the tip one last time. She was treating it with a truly ridiculous amount of reverence. I hadn't seen a girl be this nice to a cock in porn - particularly the local porn, which was mostly terrible as far as I was concerned, since it was made for visually-minded girls and thus tended to focus way too much on dude's cocks and chests.
"Tell me I'm a good girl," she said, flushing red almost the moment after she said it, not with arousal or exertion but with sheer embarrassment, the blush so deep it ran down to her breasts. "Ah. I mean-"
I patted her head. "You're a good girl," I told her. I am ultimately just like any other man (from my world): very willing to say whatever nice words will get the woman to continue sucking my cock. She smiled at that, puffing herself up both mentally and physically, making her large breasts jiggle in response. With only the tiniest nudge to the back of her head, she wrapped her lips back around my dick and started to bob.
This time, her eyes remained focused up on me, her lips suckling softly around my length. She actually wriggled in her position, her whole body moving from side to side with an energy that was either anxious or aroused - either way, the effect was definitely sexy, producing this cute wiggle to that firm, muscular ass while she was down nose-to-pelvis, or drawing the eyes to her full tits when she was far enough up that just the tip of my cock was in her mouth.
I wound up coming in her mouth. As any man in my position might have, I came within a few minutes - I hardly had some great endurance for this entirely unexpected event of getting a genuinely fantastic blowjob from a beautiful woman. It all sprayed out across the inside of her mouth, positively clogging it up, some excess burbling for and giving me quite the delicious view as it did. She hungrily slurped and swallowed it all down, eyes twinkling with pride.
Women could be very simple, it seemed. I had been the one who got his cock sucked by a hot superheroine, and she was the one proud. As the last few gulps finished, she spoke up. "Do you want me to keep sucking your cock?" The way she phrased it was nigh-incomprehensible to me, a mildly selfish lover (though no more than average). It wasn't pitiful or mewling for mercy, there was an obvious interest in being made to keep sucking my cock.
There were two major factors that motivated me not to take her up on that offer. The first is simple: I wanted to try regular sex with a superheroine in this world, since I'd also fantasized about railing a superheroine doggy style (or missionary, or reverse missionary, or cowgirl, or really any position I could get to be entirely honest). The second is more logical: simply getting a dozen blowjobs from Perihelion may have meant I'd get to come a lot, and given her skill it meant I'd enjoy it a hell of a lot, but I couldn't imagine it would get me a second round. A woman can give blowjobs to any guy if she just offers. Even in this reversed world, I couldn't imagine it was hard to find a guy who'd like to have his cock sucked.
In any case, I shook my head. "No. I want to fuck you." She smiled at that, as though sex was simply something that I, in my infinite charity, had deigned to provide her with. I was like any man in that situation, and found it extremely sexy. I grasped her under the arm, hefting her up onto the bed. She had some weight to her, but she went along with me, and my increased metabolism had resulted in increased general strength. I let her thump down onto the bed, and used my superhuman speed to yank her leggings and panties off before she had time to protest. Her response was to suck in a deep breath through her nose, a wild look in her eyes.
"You are on the pill, right?" I asked, and she nodded so fast that I might have thought she'd get whiplash from the sheer force of it.
"Not because I'm-" was as far as she got before I just slammed myself to the base inside her waiting sex, making her whole body briefly jerk beneath me. Her fingers scraped along the mattress and blanket beneath us, and she let out an undisguised pant of pleasure, an exhalation soon followed by rapid breathing in and out, her head lolling to one side as I went at it with an undue amount of speed. Her overpowered reaction reassured me that I was not making some mistake, simply losing myself to my lusts in the moment, and my fingers firmly gripped her thighs, holding her legs apart as I jammed myself deep inside her again and again. Her mouth was parted, her eyes hazy as she looked up at me, seemingly completely lost for words in just a second.
In a moment of simple lust, I said something I'll admit was perhaps too much of a porno line, even for someone as sexually inexperienced as myself (at that time): "You look really cute like that." I will also admit that I inwardly cringed the moment that I said it, but I will defend myself by noting that she did orgasm not two pumps later, her hips rising on the bed, grinding her own pelvis against mine with a wild-eyed, manic energy.
Her cunt was like a vice, gripping me with overwhelming force, her legs snapping tight around my hips as she simply gasped in ecstasy. There was no attempt to restrain herself, to hold back, she completely lost herself in the moment, her naked body on full display as it writhed this way and that, wriggling as if dancing to an unheard rhythm, her eyelashes fluttering wildly. She didn't look at me any longer, but at the ceiling, and I couldn't help but wonder what the hell I had done to get her so intensely worked up.
I figured she was probably just particularly sensitive rather than anything else - having a hair trigger would explain why she seemed so... inexperienced, yet fellatio-interested. Compensating for coming too quickly, which was viewed as a bad thing for women around here, for whatever reason.
When her body finally finished its frantic pulses of pleasure, falling limp and lax beneath me, I stared down at her, drinking in her naked body. There was no thin shine of sweat, sexy as it would have been - we hadn't been at it long enough, and she was a superheroine, and therefore probably not particularly inclined to feel like sex was that much of a workout, when she could fight alien invaders and shrug off bullets. Her legs finally went lax around my hips, and as I began to resume my movement of fucking in and out of her, she spoke up. "Thank you..."
It was just a mumbled, isolated phrase, dropped without any consideration of the effect it would have on me. In her position, I would definitely have been embarrassed to thank a woman for achieving orgasm, but, I had to admit I was reappraising that viewpoint based on the fact that hearing her say it had made me rock hard and extremely excited. I gripped her hips and upped my pace instantly, beginning to jackhammer away without hesitation. She smiled at that, panting, letting her head cast back, just losing herself in the moment, her arms twisting, her hair tangling as I fucked her with relentless force.
I came way too fast. If I was an ordinary man, inclined to make excuses, I would blame it on the erotic circumstances, or perhaps some side effect of my power. In all honesty, however, it had been a long time since I had been with a woman, so letting loose inside her was... just natural. When I was completely and utterly spent, it felt as if I had been drained entirely dry, and I slumped off of her, falling onto my ass, then my back, so we were groin to groin.
She was the first of us to actually start moving again, crawling around on the bed. I fully expected her to begin riding me, taking her unfulfilled pleasure from my unresisting body. I would have let her, too, assuming she could get me hard again. Instead, however, she gently lifted me up before laying me down on the pillows, pulling the covers over me. She was on hands and knees on the bed next to me, staring down at me with a quiet expression, her teeth gently biting her lower lip.
"That was great," she finally settled on. "You were great. Really, amazing. I look forward to working with you," she said, doing something that was a mix between a hop and a float off the bed, starting to collect her clothes. My cum was gently trickling down her inner thigh, and she fidgeted as she noticed it, trying to decide what to do about it. Her ultimate decision was to position herself at a specific angle, let her hand brush down along there, and surreptitiously lick it up. By the way she moved, I had to assume it was deeply embarrassing to do that, so I didn't make it obvious that I'd seen. "Fuck you again. I mean, see you again. Though also, hopefully?" She added, as she started pulling on her leggings.
I just gave her a dour look, something I happen to be very good at. "I'll see you." She flushed and finished getting dressed in a rush before departing.
I decided since I'd already been tucked in, I might as well get in a good nap. I could figure things out with my new job later.
* * *
The office building I had to report to only had a couple levels devoted to its superheroic employees, and by that I meant that they were reserved for the whole company. The people themselves had looks and bodies that spoke - almost universally - to a life of hardship and physical labor, despite the cool environment. Fit, with a few visible scars marring otherwise handsome or beautiful faces. It would be difficult for anybody to buy this as an ordinary office, despite the modest level of dress decorum they wore, and a few were out and about in costume.
"Ah, our new arrival," came a female voice. "Roger Cooper, yes?"
I turned to meet my interlocutor. I am not a liar, so I will confess that she was genuinely beautiful. Long, red hair that stretched all the way to her knees, with a svelte figure and unblemished, unmarred skin. She was tall, too - she actually had an inch or so on me, looking down at me with a cocksure smile. "That's me."
"I'm Mira Stone, at least on the business end of things," she said, patting her thigh. "Not everyday you get a hero with a winning combination of skills and powers like yours."
"I'm not a hero," I said, raising one hand. If they were trying to turn this from boring secretary work (good!) to exciting superheroic work (bad!) then I was getting out now and going back to browsing for puppy pictures on my phone.
"Oh, but you are." She put a hand on my shoulder, gripping it firmly, her grin only growing. "You, handsome, are heroically saving these idiots' asses from their poor math abilities. I think we have one person with any accounting experience in the whole office. I know it myself, but, I have a lot of other accounting to do, and, to be honest, it's thus far been easier to just dump extra money in than wait for them to figure out where it went. Glad to see I won't be needing to do that any more."
"In other words, your largesse is responsible for the mess I'm here to fix?" I prompted.
She laughed at that. "Exactly. Now, let me show you to your office - you get your own, with opaque windows," she explained, walking backwards and gesturing for me to follow her. Somebody threw a frisbee - it was that kind of office - and she caught it without even looking away from me. With a casual flick of the wrist it went flying back in the direction from which it came. She opened the door easily, sliding it wide open. "It's a big office, because you're doing work that should be done by ten people, so I figured you deserve a little extra leg room." When I was inside, looking at the computer to try to get an idea of when it was made, she closed the door behind us. "Hey. Did Kate say anything weird to you?"
"Kate?" The name wasn't ringing any bells.
"Perihelion?" She prompted.
Ah. Yes. The pervert sexual harasser. It was odd to send her for my recruitment, when you really thought about it. "A few things. Nothing really bad."
"That's great to hear," Mira replied, smiling. "Unfortunately, she may have said a few weird things to the rest of us, but don't worry about it, nobody believes her." I'll admit my expression was not the most calm, but I do not enjoy people talking about me behind my back. "Okay. She suggested that maybe the two of you had sex."
"I see." I suppose that was to be expected, given that we had actually had sex.