Let's keep going.

Before a word can be said Supergirl is in your arms and your tongue is in her mouth. You keep your eyes open just to watch hers sink closed, pleasant mumbling noises escaping with her girlish gasps. You can talk later. You can explain later. That’s not what you want now. Not what either of you want, not what either of you need.

Gripping your cape you pull it gently from her grip and drop it to one side, leaving her exposed in her torn uniform. Taking her by the shoulders you pull her out of the kiss, taking a good look at your girl and your handiwork. Her pale, round breasts push back the torn sides of her suit, nipples pert and attentive, her sports bra still rolled up above them. Even with a load inside of her womb, Supergirl turns shyly from you as you look, wriggling under your gaze and your grip.

“Am I really that pretty?”

Such a cute, innocent way of putting it.

You take a breast in hand, fondling, squeezing, massaging the soft girl flesh before pinching her nipple and making her flinch and squeak. Your other hand takes her chin, turning her to face you. Once you make her locks eyes with you, you run your thumb over her lips.

“The prettiest girl in the world,” you gaze into her eyes, meaning every word. She flutters demurely as you flatter her, before moaning as you squeeze her breast again. “Let’s get you out of those clothes, let me see all of you.”