Yes

The thud was deafening. Aaron waited, then creeped to her body. Her suit was riddled with tiny cuts unnoticeable in the dead of night. No blood either. He put a hand to her neck. Her pulse was getting weak.

'Should I call the hospital? The police?' Aaron bit his lip. 'I heard there's tension between the Bats and GCPD. I might get in trouble too.' He casted one last look over her before sighing.

"Fine. She's a hero," he muttered. "I think she saved my supervisor once."

Aaron looked twice before lifting her over his shoulder. The alleyway was empty as was the foyer, his eyes scanning their surroundings like a robot. No one was in the halls of the apartment complex nor did he encounter a soul in the elevator either. A stroke of luck. He was able to rise up and bring her to his unit without dragging unnecessary attention.

She was heavier than she looked. Maybe it was the armour. Her legs pulled her weight down an inch and Aaron honestly, genuinely didn't mean to but his hand accidentally grabbed her booty to keep her in place. Only for an instant and he removed his hand faster than the Flash.

But…yeah.

The hallmark trait of a Batgirl was their fantastic ass. Simply looking at the Gotham heroine from behind made a man go "Damn!"

He saw the forums, the pictures. The Five Batgirls Theory.

The first Batgirl kicked the tradition off with a bang. She had some serious cake, that girl, enough to distract criminals when they caught a glimpse of it. A thick, sporty booty. Gotham truly lost a treasure when she handed the mantle down. Rumours say she got into an altercation with the Joker and lost the ability to fight crime ever since.

The second Batgirl did not last long and acted only during the Cataclysm–when Gotham was called No Man's Land–yet the internet never forgot her ass cheeks and those hips. Flexing a heart-shaped ass, she exuded an effortless aura of eroticism and completely relished in it unlike her predecessors and successors.

Then the third Batgirl donned the costume. She was different from the Batgirls that came before her and not simply because she was a self-proclaimed Batgirl rather than an official one. To put it mildly, her ass was round and bouncy, and significantly more distracting than her predecessors. This third Batgirl quickly ceased, however, and the teleporter Mist was born soon after. Most of the internet agreed that, judging by the booty, that they were one in the same. Different mask, same ass.

As of the present day, the heroine Batgirl was two. One half was a blonde, who was a return to form to the original. She had a firm bubble butt that was noticeable and even somewhat useful when the cape flew up. Male criminals tended to be chauvinistic idiots, after all.

The other half, the Batgirl resting on his bed and whose booty he felt, was blessed in her own unique way. Her hips and boobs were lean and squared but her ass was round and meaty. Trained and toned like those female Olympic athletes.

He watched her sleeping body for a few minutes. She was breathing and clearly ****. Her suit was littered with cuts but he didn't see or smell blood.

'Poison,' Aaron guessed as he put a hand on her forehead and checked her temperature. He sat at the edge of the bed, whipped out his phone, and started researching. He was already neck-deep. If she died now, it would be on him.

He kept an eye on her, making sure she was still breathing. His fingers moved fast but her symptoms were faster. Erratic breathing, random dips in temperatures, odd changes in her heart rate. It made no sense. Her readings kept changing and changing and there was just no way for a non-professional to identify it.

Eventually, he settled for pain killers. Nothing else in his home would help. He fled to the kitchen and returned with the white pills.

Aaron stopped at the doorway.

Batgirl was up, her head aimed directly at him.

"Hi," Aaron said, hand raised tentatively. "I got you some pain killers. Is that alright?"

A minute passed. She scanned his body less analytically and more…curiously.

She nodded.

"Cool." Aaron walked over and handed her the painkillers. He spun on his heel and returned to the doorway. "Call if you need me. I know secret identities are important."

The window was already open. If she wanted to, she could leave. With that done, he left for the kitchen and opened his fridge. He had a couple things. Some salad, shrimp, chicken, a bunch of sauce.

'Maybe I should make her spaghetti–'

Aaron searched the fridge for less than three seconds before he felt a shadow behind him. Two shadows, actually. He could hear their bodies shift with muscle and power. He turned and a fist entered his vision.

'Huh?'

Aaron ducked, grabbed their arm, pushed their body weight forward, then struck a point in the back of their neck. The shadow went limp and fell to the ground with a thud.

He could sense the shock from the second intruder. Aaron spared them no mercy and appeared behind them in a burst of speed and knocked them out with a hard neck chop.

The second shadow fell.

Aaron sighed. "That was random." He dusted his hands off and leaned down to check the bodies. They weren't dead, only ****, clad in lightweight garbs. Not like Batgirl's attire, which was made of a material he couldn't quite describe; hard and probably bulletproof but flexible. The ensemble of these men were not remotely as well produced, almost as if they were expendable products.

'Are they ninjas or something? They seemed strong.' Then it dawned on him. 'Oh, they're after Batgirl.'

Alright, so there was another thing that was remarkable about Aaron Reigner. To the naked eye and at work, this remarkableness was impossible to detect and demonstrated once in a blue moon, if that.

Physical and mental ability. His body, his mind, it performed at the highest level of human ability. If Aaron saw something, whether it be a complicated dance or a gymnastics technique, he could immediately replicate it. And not just replicate it but do it better. His body was not merely lean but pristine and flawless. His muscles were strong beyond belief, able to accomplish feats Olympic athletes would be envious of.

He recalled playing football in gym class. He absolutely crushed it, despite the fact that Gotham City High School was a top-ranked team in all of America.

It was his first time ever picking up a football too.

His mind and body went beyond genius or comprehension. It was why Aaron was as reserved as he was. He hated attention. He hated being in the spotlight. He preferred to watch anime and do normal stuff than fight criminals and solve crime scenes. He was very good at hiding his talents and was able to get away with the football match in high school simply because it was a one-time thing. Never again did he demonstrate that kind of athleticism and everybody quickly discarded it as a fluke. He doubted anyone from his high school days remembered him either.

He tossed the intruders out the window. No use keeping them inside. They had a small device on them, bluetooths or something, but Aaron was not interested in involving himself any further.

'I better not have a letter from the Riddler in my mailbox tomorrow…or a bomb threat from the Joker, or my walls destroyed by Bane.'

Footsteps quieter than a mouse emerged from his room. It was Batgirl in full costume, her posture candid and squared.

"Oh, hey, you're up again–"

Aaron raised a hand and approached her but was **** to stop everything as Batgirl dropped to her knees. He blinked, not realizing what was happening. She grabbed his grey trousers and the waistband of his boxers, and threw it all down in one quick move.

'What–?'

His cock plopped out, whacking her chin with a comical slap, then settled on her masked face. Black and impossible to understand, possessing only the shadows of her eyes.

The cold fabric of her hands touched the sides of his cock. Slowly, her fingers attempted to wrap it, only to fail. Though flaccid, his dong was twice as girthy as the average male's put together.

"Biggest. Cock. Ever."