Her Apartment

The trip home was somehow longer than it had ever taken and yet was over in a flash. Before she knew it she got to the metro station. Rode the three stops she needed to get as close to her building as possible. And power-walked through the shitty neighborhood she refused to think of as home, keeping her eye out for anyone suspicious as she did. Before finally reaching her building. Walking up the five floors (the elevator had yet to work in the four months she lived there) to her one-room studio. Fumbling for only a second with her key before slipping into her apartment, both slamming and locking the door behind her.

Externally all seemed normal. She went through her normal routine. First gently setting her guitar case against the wall, between her portable keyboard and her beat-up old Fender and amp. Then pulled her hoodie up over her head and hanging it on the hook by the door. Plugged her phone in. And sat on her bed to begin browsing the internet on her tablet.

But internally she was running in circles. Over and over she kept thinking back to her meeting in the alley. As she had been all the way home. She thought of the shock to her system when she first saw Power Girl. Of how oddly comforting her coarse voice was. Of how she liked her music and valued her skills. Of how gorgeous her face was. Of how her golden hair caught the sunlight. Of how captivating her well-defined musculature was. How mind-blowing her breasts were. How sculpted her ass was.

But every time it always came back to one thing.

“She winked at me,” Tara said flatly staring into space.

Over and over again she thought back to that final moment. The moment when Power Girl stopped in the air. Turned to face Tara. And winked at her.

And each time she envisioned that moment she asked herself one question. What did it mean?

Tara was not such an innocent schoolgirl as to not jump to the obvious conclusion. You winked at someone when you flirted with them. Ergo Power Girl was flirting with her. It was the obvious answer, and it was certainly what Tara wanted to be true. But it couldn’t be the truth. Sure winks could be flirty. But they could also be cocky, playful, or teasing. And Power Girl’s vibe certainly was awash with that sort of energy. Maybe she was just teasing her after she caught Tara checking her out. Maybe she was just trying to put a nervous civilian at ease. It could also just be a quirk of hers, one she used to project approachability. That had to be pretty important for someone as powerful as her. Or for all Tara knew it was just some weird Kryptonian thing.

And that was the main problem here. Tara knew some things about Power Girl, but not much. But she was a famous superheroine and there was such a thing as Google. It was certainly an unsavory idea, electronically creeping on a woman who had been nothing but nice to her. But she had to. Or at least she felt she had to. The other woman was simply too much to handle without a bit of preparation. And if the weather was nice tomorrow she might have less than twenty-four hours before she bumped into the blonde powerhouse again.

So she fired up her tablet (a half-broken piece of crap she found in a dumpster) and got ready to practice her Google-Fu. Famous as she was, it took little more than typing “Power Girl” into the search bar to open the floodgates on the information. There were countless articles, op-eds, and interviews from across the years of Power Girl’s active service.

As Tara went through them she found the information stubbornly common. Power Girl was in fact another survivor of the doomed planet Krypton. Apparently Superman was her cousin, and while it was never said outright most people assumed she was Supergirl's older sister. A fair bet looking at a picture of them side by side. They looked like time-displaced twins. And there were plenty of photos and videos of her epic deeds. She had defended Earth against the invaders of Apocalypse. She had battled countless supervillains such as the Ultrahumanite, Bizzaro, and Killer Frost. She tried not to think about why the fights against other women had so many more views than those with men. Of course, it wasn’t all fights. There were reports about her safely landing crashing planes, holding up collapsing bridges, dissipating tornados with her super-breath, and other such incredible acts of compassion and heroism. She had even apparently rescued forty people from a burning building while Tara was on her way home.

There was no shortage of information about Power Girl as a hero. But almost nothing about her as a person. Not that that was totally surprising. Superheroes had secret identities after all. And they wouldn’t be much good if you gave away a bunch of details. But Tara was still frustrated. After all that searching there were so many basic questions that were left unanswered. What was her favorite color? What kind of food did she like? Oh, what kind of music did she like? That seemed important, all things considered.

But the Kryptonian never mentioned anything like that in any interview Tara found.

More frustrating than any of that though was the question Tara had obsessed over since she had noticed how beautiful Power Girl was. In no interview was there any mention of the heroine’s orientation. This too was unsurprising. It wasn’t the sort of subject one broached casually. Tara tried to be optimistic. Given the world they lived in there were any number of reasons to keep that private. Especially if she was a lesbian, like Tara. But another part of her pointed out that the most likely explanation was that Power Girl was straight and simply didn’t think it worth mentioning. And it was hard to imagine some like her not being out and proud if she wasn't straight.

And yet she looked at Tara like she thought the girl was cute. She complimented her music. She said she was impressive. She wanted to see her again.

She winked at her.

Could it really be…

It was in this frustration that Tara stumbled upon an article quite different from the others. The others had almost all been in news sites of one form some admittedly more reputable than others. Or at the very least were on the websites of magazines like People or Variety. But this one was a blog. Some sort of superheroine fan blog called the Babes In Capes. It was the type of site Tara probably would have scrolled past without a second thought. But the title of this specific post caught her eyes.

Power Girl is More Than Just a Pair of Tits:

In all of Tara’s searching, it was the only article that mentioned the blonde’s famous chest. And so she clicked on it. And settled down to read the piece.

This blog, as all my loyal readers know by now, was started a little over a year ago. And in that time I have been asked two questions time and time again. So I’ll take this opportunity to answer both.

The first is why I chose to write such a blog. I actually answered this question in my first ever post I authored. It was a profile of the one and only princess of the Amazons, Wonder Woman. But that post is now over a year old (I now consider it almost unreadable) and seeing as I’m currently in the process of rewriting it (coming soon I promise) I thought I would answer that here.

In truth, it’s incredibly simple. Superheroines are among the most admirable people in this world. They truly deserve any and all praise that comes their way. And fortunately, the people of our little blue pearl seem to realize this. I have yet to meet anyone without at least one nice thing to say about at least one of them. In fact, if you search around the web you will find no shortage of complimentary articles. Ones praising their courage. Ones praising their tenacity. Their honor. Their skill. Their intelligence. Their power. Their deeds.

But I have noticed an odd blind spot. Their beauty.

Now I’m not saying it goes unnoticed. Or unremarked upon. In fact, if you scroll through the comments of almost any news article about these amazing women you will definitely see the same comments I have. Ones like “What I wouldn’t do to Batgirl.” Or “I would ask if Fire’s carpets match the drapes, but I hear she’s Brazilian ;)." Or the ever-popular “I wish Big Barda would step on my face.”

Now I won’t pretend I don’t have these same thoughts. I feel as though we are all guilty of that from time to time. But the question I was left with was why?

And the answer to that question was simple to suss out. These women are undeniably and unavoidably sexy.

And so I made this blog to celebrate and explore this beauty. In whatever size, shape, or color. I wished to showcase the amazing depths and variety of that beauty. And so I started going, woman by woman, profiling them and highlighting their individual features. Not to compare them. Or to simply fantasize about them. But to show how truly breathtaking these women are.

And yet week after week, month after month, I received my second most frequent question.

Why haven’t you talked about Power Girl?

Now, normally when someone asks why I haven’t profiled a specific heroine I usually have one of two answers for them. The first is if I suspect the heroine is still underaged (hints the exclusion of frequent requests like Black Bat, Stargirl, and Miss Martian. I don’t know and can’t know so I play it safe.) The second is if I feel they aren’t truly heroic (Harley Quin may say she is reformed but there are still too many rumored killings for her to be featured here.) But for Power Girl, it’s rather simple. I don’t think my earlier observation is really true. I think there is plenty of discussion of PG’s raw aesthetic bounty. So every time I began writing I had the same thought. Do I have anything to really add?

And finally, I have to say that I think I do. And as the title says it’s about her most well-known and immediately visible asset. Or maybe assets.

Look, guys, I get it. Her tits are beyond belief. But I feel people are becoming so obsessed with her amazing bosom that we miss just how complete the package is.

Let’s start with her face. You know, that face that looks like it was carved by all the goddesses of beauty in order to make their most perfect creation. Sporting a thin, straight nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw, and full, pouty lips. Then of course there are her eyes, sparkling blue or glowing red. All topped by gorgeous, golden hair. Cut into a sexy, power bob.

All of which helps convey her no-bullshit attitude. Seriously this gal has got confidence in spades. It’s a common stereotype that women love cocky guys. But let’s be honest who wouldn’t be drawn to that kind of magnetic charisma? Man, woman, or other.

But let’s not beat around the bush. Power Girl is hardly shy or reserved so let’s be direct. Power Girl has the kind of figure anyone would be jealous of. For a starter, there are her muscles. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, muscles like these are sexy as hell. Abs like hers a marvel. Perfect for teasing, tickling, caressing, and (for the ****-inclined) body shots.

But of course, legs have muscles too. And this lady’s legs are damn fine. All the best parts of a Rockette and all the best parts of a track and field athlete. Strong, long, and graceful. They are the perfect example of powerful femininity. But special mention has to be made of her thighs. Those thick, smooth, flawless thighs. Just imagine the thighjob from those babies. Or the feeling of them wrapped around your head.

And let us speak honestly. Power Girl’s ass deserves more attention. As a rule of thumb, I try not to compare the ladies on my blog. But if I did Power Girl’s ass would certainly make my top three. Look at those cheeks. It defies reason. No ass should be that bubbly, muscly, jiggly, and shapely all at the same time. If any of you out there have been blessed with this sight in real life I envy you. Seriously.

But to appease the boob lovers among you (I see you in the comments) I will say this. They certainly are deserving of the hype. There are plenty of heroines with great tits, but there is a reason the name Power Girl is synonymous with amazing tits.

But let's not forget the rest guys. Power Girl is modern-day Ishtar. A goddess of war and sexuality. She's one of a kind. As amazonian as anyone from Themyscira. Confident and charming. I can only hope she's found someone to love because she deserves it. And to that person, I say: "You lucky bastard."

Reading through that was an odd experience for Tara. At certain points, it felt like this guy was reading her mind. But more than the words what really got to her were the pictures.

Whoever wrote this had apparently scoured the internet for pictures of the blonde bombshell. Some she recognized from the articles she read earlier. But most looked like amateur shots. Ones that seemed… flattering? No. The proper word was lecherous.

There were ones showing off her tits from every angle, including a few from a bird's eye view. That stared right down her exposed cleavage. And one where her costume tore, leaving her only barely decent.

But most of the others were chosen to support the author's thesis. They showed off her silky legs, including one candid shot of Power Girl without her boots. Or her defined abs, another torn costume picture let Tara have a glimpse at her toned stomach. Or one where she was flexing, giving the camera a smirk that said "Welcome to the gun show!"

As Tara scrolled through them she found herself flushing once more. Not from embarrassment this time though. No, this time it was pure, unstoppable, wild lust.

The first thing to go was her shirt. It was suddenly too hot for even a thin, faux-cotton shirt. So it was yanked over her head and mindlessly thrown across her room. Her hand then snaked under her bralette to tweak her pink nipples that had become painfully hard. Before the undergarment was similarly discarded. She teased her little a-cups. All the while she imagined it wasn't her hands on her chest. No in her mind it was Power Girl's strong hands, freed from their gloves, dancing across her chest. Teasing the small soft mounds and tweaking her little nipples. It was too much.

But also nowhere near enough.

The petite girl needed more. Her belt was unbuckled, ripped off, and cast aside as quickly as her shaking hands could manage. She didn’t even bother with the button or zipper on her jeans. She just wriggled to get them past her narrow hips. Before shoving them down to her ankles. She had originally planned to take them all the way off, but she forgot to take off her boots first. She contemplated taking the time to get the tightly laced boots off but decided against it. Her pants were out of the way and that was what she needed. Her sodden, white panties didn’t even make it that far. She slid them only about halfway down her slim thighs.

She gasped in delight at the feeling of cool air on her scorching hot pussy. It was a scrumptious sensation. But it wasn’t what she was after. So she flopped on the bed and quickly slid a hand between her legs. Her hand slid across her mound, through the few sparse hairs she grew down there. Taking only a moment to tease her soaked lips, she quickly began rubbing her hypersensitive clit. She had no patience for foreplay. She had been hot and bothered for hours now. She needed release.

While her right hand worked on her love button her left grabbed her tablet and resumed scrolling through the pictures of Power Girl. The woman was so effortlessly sexy. Whether she was posing for the camera, in a natural nonpose, or in the midst of a battle she was utterly tantalizing.

But the last picture was by far the best. It showed the stacked Kryptonian, her back to the camera. She stood above another of her kind, a woman dressed all in black. Clearly she had just beaten the woman she stood over. Her cape, a little worse for wear after what had clearly been a tough fight, fluttered in the breeze. Allowing the camera to get a clear look at her ass. And how her costume had ridden up, leaving most of her glutes exposed to Tara's ravenous gaze.

It was too much. It pushed her right up to the edge. Tara’s eyes screwed tightly shut as she gasped wildly. It was then her imagination took over. She saw Power Girl. Her ass was still hanging out of her costume but so much else had changed. Her cape was no longer blown in the wind. Instead, the curvaceous woman held it to the side. All the better to let Tara ogle her. Instead of standing upright in triumph, she arched her back, pushing her lovely bum towards Tara. And twisting her upper body to show off some sideboob, much to the girl’s pleasure. And instead of looking down at some villain, her graceful neck was craned to let the blonde look back at the black-haired girl. Her blue eyes shimmered with playful lust. Her tongue licked her pillowy lips. Before she opened her mouth and whispered to Tara. Her husky voice slithered into the young musician's ears.

“Come on Tara. Cum for me.”

Shooting a wink over her shoulder at Tara.

That pushed Tara over the edge. The muscles of her pussy spasmed wildly. Her sweet nectar gushed forth, soaking her fingers and the sheet beneath her. Loud, high-pitched moans erupted from her mouth as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. It was a high like none she had before. It just kept going and going.

But eventually, her orgasm ran its course. Slowly growing more and more subdued, before the pleasure finally faded. And Tara collapsed. A sweaty, panting mess that could do little but bask in the afterglow. Her mind was blank.

At least it was until her eyes fluttered open. And she spotted her tablet. Which was still displaying the picture of Power Girl’s exposed ass. That snapped her out of her rapturous trance.

“Oh shit.” She gasped, fumbling to close Chrome (The tab with Babes In Capes included.)

She then scrambled to pull her threadbare blanket up and over herself, boots and all. Hiding under her blanket she began to think about what she did.

“I was thinking about Power Girl!” Tara whispered. No that wasn’t it. She was fantasizing about Power Girl. Fantasizing about the bombshell while looking at pictures of her online. Risque, paparazzi pictures on some random dude’s blog.

Power Girl had been surprisingly chill when talking to Tara. But she had a reputation as a righteous ass-kicker. Not exactly the type of lady to take naughty photos, taken without her consent, very well. And that was before Tara frigged herself to orgasm looking at them. And it was more than possible for her to find out. Given she now knew for a fact that Kryptonians could definitely see through walls and hear things over great distances.

It was a silly thought, but she hoped that maybe supervision didn’t work through blankets.

Eventually, she convinced herself Power Girl was not going to come bursting through her wall any second now. And just how silly she was being. Superheroines had better things to do than spy on random women. And even though Power Girl was supposedly nowhere near as much of a goody-two-shoes as the other heroes of Krypton, that seemed out of character. So she took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. And went about her evening routine.

She stripped off her sweat-soaked (and in the case over her panties, pussy juice soaked) clothes, throwing them in her hamper, and slipping into her thick, flannel pajamas. She made herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Watched some random YouTube videos. Before finally practicing on her keyboard (making sure to plug in headphones. The walls in these apartments were really thin.)

Tara tried to maintain the facade of normalcy. Desperately trying to not think about what would happen if Power Girl was true to her word. How she could possibly face Power Girl after jilling off to her.