Sexually Exciting...and Revealing

Naughty, Sue Storm thought to herself in the shower as she soaped her breasts.

Naughty naughty, she thought as she caught herself staring at Alica Masters, who had forgotten to wear a bra again, her nipples tenting her blouse.

Naughty naughty naughty, the thought echoed in the Invisible Woman's head at night as she lay in the darkness as she scrolled through pages of image galleries.

Bare-breasted bimbos, the website advertised. Sue lay on her side, right hand cupped around her right breast beneath her nightie, and a single finger teased a hard brown nipple as she scrolled past topless tart after naked nymphette. Over the week, Sue's browsing had become her great respite from the stress of the day. A time to relax...touch and tease...and indulge in her curiosity. Breasts came in so many shapes and forms, after all.

One night Sue might indulge her curiosity by viewing the extremes of breast augmentation. Massive silicone funbags, almost spherical and heavy, the scars often visible against tanned skin. Then the propylene string implants, which were illegal now, the immense bags of flesh that hung from the women's chests couldn't be called breasts anymore—they had graduated to tits. Titanic tits. Another night, Sue might want to see things more natural; the sagging, overdeveloped breasts of big beautiful women, the young women with the hunched shoulders and back-breaking milkbags that suffered from gigantomastia, their hypertrophied udders bizarre freaks of nature that made Sue's cunny clench in both sympathy and secret jealousy.

Sometimes, though, Sue's tastes turned another way. To the soft, budding breasts of young women. Mere mosquitobites, flat as boards but with puffy nipples, the naturally thin women who never had much to speak of up top and the top athletes whose fatless builds left them flat as a board. Sue had known many superheroines like that, which led many to get implants or undergo treatments to give themselves a more "appropriate" profile.

Not that Sue needed any such assistance. She had been a comfortable 34C even before her pregnancies. Now she fluctuated between a 34D and 34DD, sometimes going up a whole cup size during her period. Breasts that looked bigger on her slim frame than they would on normal women of her age, who had packed on a few pounds.

The thought led the Invisible Woman to think of her fellow superheroines and villains. All those lovely ladies, so many of them in terrific shape. The average Avengers or X-Men meeting held more above-average attractive people than the average porn convention. Sue grinned and felt her face flush as she imagined the X-women in skimpy outfits, tits and asses on display as they signed autographs for perverts. It wouldn't be far from what many of them actively wore, to show off their fine figures. All those tits that strained achingly against thin fabrics—

A thought came to Sue, and she slid out of bed. Reed was in the lab, the whole floor was silent. Yet the comm station linked with the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. databases was in a separate room, with a door that could be locked. Sue locked it now, even as she settled herself onto the chair. Thighs spread wide as she typed in her pass code, to access the databases of superheroes and supervillains...and ranked them by breast size.

Naughty, Sue Storm thought to herself as she slid her fingers down under her underwear. An electric shiver went through her as her fingertips touched her clit. On the screen, she one-hand-clicked through profile after profile. Emma Frost, the utter slut. Carol Danvers, the mighty Captain Marvel. Dazzler, in her tit-hugging leisure suit. Dagger, whose costume had to be taped in place. Mockingbird, whom Sue assumed had gotten a bit of work done. Meggan, a veritable elf. Sheena, the skin-clad mistress of the Savage Land...

The Invisible Woman drank in the sight of all those hot superwomen. Her fingers rubbed faster and faster as the excitement built within her. She could feel herself approaching the cliff beyond which it would be impossible to stop, the edge of reason beyond which she would continue to rub her cunt until she came, hard, lost in a vision of supertits.

Then she clicked over to an image of the villainess Moonstone. Her blue eyes fixed on the villain's chest with instant and terrific recognition.

Those were the tits she had been searching for.