A sexy superman

Your sights are set on a particularly hunky guy: known to the presses only as Super Guy, he's nearly your equal in scope and versatility of his powers. Not to mention he's just as handsome as you're beautiful: Built from marbled muscle, his waist is hardly visible under the stacks of abs. Clear, almost radiant blue eyes, a cute little bent nose and ruffled light hair, contrasted by a strong jaw and a cleanly-cut stubble.

The man's sweat must smell like aftershave. He's an entire Playgirl magazine compressed under a single skin. Mysterious, quiet and contemplative... gawd. He's almost too good for you. Almost.

You jump down from the balcony and excitedly greet Super Guy, who's equally eager for a hook-up, but manages to hide it slightly better than you.

Sophie: "Yo. You're Super Guy, r-right?"

Super Guy: "Yes. I heard you're on the market, and thought I'd stop by for a while t-"

Sophie: "(Holy shit do you even realize how hot you are?)"

Super Guy: "U... C-come again?"

Sophie: "(I'm having trouble staying my hands from ripping that skinsuit right off. Get ins-... I mean come inside m- I mean... Get in!)"

You leer at the other remaining supers.

Sophie: "And the rest of you peeping toms and tommettes can leave! He's all mine, you hear?"

The final unwanted visitors vacate your premises, gravely disappointed but hopeful that you'd one day hit them up for a one-night stand, or mayhaps even a cordial little orgy? You lead Super Guy in, nearly pulling the front door off its frames in the process.

Sophie: "So. Your name is Super Guy, huh?"

Good grief, you are just making an ass out of yourself today, aren't you? Before you can retract that bit of redundancy, the ever-polite Super Guy answers in the affirmative, seemingly indifferent to this quite obvious blunder. There's a round of awkward laughter and even more awkward silence before you snap back to attention and direct Super Guy onto your couch, where you join him.

Super Guy: "Uhh... how's life as a super treating you?"

Sophie: "Well..."

Your expression turns wonky.

Sophie: "...There are certain downsides, to be honest. Like the overbearing work schedule. Or the added collateral damage."

You gesture towards the rest of the room. In his flustered entry, Super Guy didn't notice how nearly all doorknobs are bent or busted, and many walls have holes and torn corners from accidentally swerving into them. Your bedroom is even worse: the sheets, mattresses and the majority of your clothes have been punctured by your perpetually diamond-tipped nips.

Super Guy: "Yeah, I can relate. See fact is, I've... ever since the transformation about a week ago, I've been... eh, pent up."

Sophie: "Oh?"

Super Guy: "The first thing I did on the morning I transformed was to wank. That blew a wall off my house. So I haven't dared to touch myself since."

Sophie: "Interesting..."

Implications are arising. You've scored a superhuman super-hunk, and he's pent-up like all hell. This could be a chance of your lifetime.

Sophie: "Well then... While we're here, why not let me help you get some release?"

Before he can answer, you've slipped the loose pajama top off, letting your bowling-ball-like breasts practically float in mid-air from their superhuman buoyancy. Their magnificance becomes the focal point of Super Guy's attention.

Super Guy: "H-holy fuck, yes please!"

Sophie: "I'm all yours today, hon. Let loose! Ravage me!"

Super Guy is just starting to rip off your pants, when a small 'ding' interrupts the quickly-advancing foreplay. Hastily, you retrieve your phone from the nearby table and check it. Some supposedly urgent disaster a thousand miles away.