Karen Starr

The complete opposite. It couldn’t be worse. Out of all the women he hoped for a normal day, he picked the one woman who was known for her sex appeal. The one woman that probably held the record for causing the most boners because of her looks.

The woman that casually pried open her door had been expecting him with a smile that could only be described as alluring and erotic. Not out of intention, out of nature. A short-haired blonde with a large bosom and in tight yoga black yoga pants and a low cut white top.

It was also quite probably the largest pair of tits he had ever seen. Yes, bigger than Starfire’s.

His eyes did a frantic, jerky dance from her face, down to her chest, and quickly back up again, as if he’d been burned.

“Uh… pizza delivery for… Karen?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “Karen Starr?”

Karen Starr leaned against the doorframe, making no move to take the box. She didn’t sweat, although was most certainly doing yoga before this. But good lord, that top! It was white and plain and stretchy a-and left little to his **** imagination.

“That’s me.” A single finger beckoned him forward with a small smile. “Come on in. The money’s on the counter.”

He hesitated, a man standing on the precipice of a very dangerous, very beautiful cliff. “I, uh, I really shouldn’t…”

He had no idea Supergirl would be done with the clean-up. But, well, he didn’t want to risk a jealous Kryptonian…

“Oh, don’t be silly. It’s Gotham. I’m not letting you stand out in that hallway.” Her voice was a low, honeyed purr. Karen turned, giving him a full view of her powerful back and her fat fucking ass, and walked inside.

She was already walking. Her ass was jiggling with every step. Good god, so it wasn’t only her tits, but her ass was fat and jiggly too? How unfair!

Swallowing hard and hypnotized by her wobbly booty, he followed. Nervously, he closed the door behind him. He arrived at the kitchen and placed the pizza box on the nearest surface, his eyes glued to her as Karen searched for her wallet. She pulled up a drawer, then squatted to open the shelf.

‘Er…why would there be a wallet be in a shelf…?’

“Oh, there!” Karen made a sound and bent over the kitchen island to retrieve her wallet. Her breasts swayed heavily and she let out a soft, theatrical groan upon getting it.

“Ugh, these things are a nightmare,” Karen sighed, straightening up and turning to face him, clutching a few bills. She rubbed the small of her back with her free hand. “Big boobs lead to such awful back problems. It’s a constant struggle.”

He just nodded mutely, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to form a sentence that wouldn’t come.

Karen stepped closer, well inside his personal space. He could smell her scent: clean sweat, expensive perfume, and woman. “You look like a strong guy,” she murmured, her blue eyes locking onto his. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about yoga, would you? I was just in the middle of some deep stretches for my lumbar region. I could really use a spotter.”

“I… I don’t…” he managed to get out, his face flushing a deep red. “I don’t know much…”

Her smile turned sultry, a spark of pure mischief in her gaze. “It’s simple. I just need you to keep me steady.” She grabbed his wrists. His hands were calloused, strong from lifting stacks of pizza boxes, but they trembled in her grasp. She didn’t guide them to her back. Instead, she placed his palms directly, firmly, against the lush…

…softness…

…of her breasts.

A sharp gulp escaped his lips. They were seriously huge! His fingers instinctively sank in! A-and he could feel the incredible weight of her melons! Not to mention hard nubs of her nipples pressing into the centers of his palms.

“Please~!” Her whisper vibrated through his very bones. “Just help me stretch.”

Any thought of refusal evaporated like mist. He was putty. He nodded, a quick, jerky movement.

“Great!” Karen smirked. She released his wrists and his hands slipped from her chest. She gave a little jump of excitement and the movement sent a glorious, breathtaking jiggle through her magnificent breasts, a sight that would be permanently seared into his memory. “Okay! Let’s start simple. Sit on the mat with me.”

They sank to the floor, facing each other. Karen turned on her butt so that he was behind her. That fat ass pressing down on the mat was…something. It was going to leave one hell of a print.

“Alright,” Karen said, calm, and instructional, though her eyes still smoldered as he turned her head over her shoulder. “I’m going to do a seated forward fold. I need you to put your arms around my waist. Just hold me there, keep my back straight. Ready?”

He nodded again, his mouth Sahara-dry. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her midsection. His fingers splayed across the strong, toned muscles of her lower back. She felt strangely strong. Like…if he pushed, he wasn’t sure if he could move her. Then again, maybe it was his imagination or exhaustion from working.

Karen folded forward gracefully, her forehead aiming for her knees, a soft mmmm of relief escaping her as she stretched. She did it once, twice…

“Phew.”

She was done, and he thought his role was done. It wasn’t. “Alright, next!”

“R-right….”

Karen did that spin on her bum again. Palm on the mat, spinning herself, it almost felt like she levitated in that brief second. He gulped when they were face-to-face and she grabbed his wrists. Talk about forward! She might have been a blonde like Supergirl, and, huh, maybe looked like her a little…

“W-woah!”

Together, their legs spread apart and the pizza guy’s head tilted down. His face was now inches from the deep, shadowed cleavage presented by her top. He swore he saw her nipples…!

“So,” Karen said, “I’m new to Gotham. You must know all the… interesting spots in the city.” She shifted slightly, and the neckline of her top gaped, offering him a dizzying, unobstructed view down the valley between her breasts. He squeezed his eyes shut. “What’s the best place to get a really good, long, filling meal around here?”

Legs stretched more and more. Frankly, it didn’t affect him. All that sex made his legs quite flexible. “U-Umm, our pizza is good. Really good. I-it’s, uh, pretty fancy inside.” It wasn't, he was just babbling.

“Oh really?” She smirked and released him. “Let’s try a different stretch. This one is great for opening up the chest.” She shifted her position to sit on their knees. Said knees were touching now. “Go on, take my hands.”

He did. Her hands were quite soft.

“Now, just lean back gently. Pull me with you. Help me open up.” They leaned back, a tense, intimate game of trust. Her chest was pushed forward, presented to him, and they stretched and pulled back until—

Boing!

Her breasts were pressing against his chest. Not flat, but certainly pressing into his chest. He gulped. All he could do was stare into her blue Kryptonian eyes…

‘Huh…Kryptonian? Why did I think that?’ He blinked twice. ‘They DO look exactly like Kara’s when she takes her glasses off…’