Too close to the sun.

It wasn't a problem Superman ever seemed to have. Maybe there was a difference between Kryptonian men and women they just weren't aware of, but whatever the case was Earth's yellow sun just didn't seem to affect Kara's cousin the way it did her. Sure they both recieved fantastical powers as their bodies absored the solar radiation, strength, speed, flight, heat rays and freezing breath (it even somehow made Kal very good at ventriliqusim), but it didn't make him... tingle like it did her. Her costume had started off fairly conservative. A long skirt, full body top, proper tights, but the sun on her skin made her feel so, so good. She ditched the tights, shortened her skirt, slashed the top to show as much midriff as she could. All for just a little more sun on her skin.

For a time even sunbathing became her number one hobby. With her speed and flight there wasn't a beach in the world she couldn't visit, even finding a few where she'd have total privacy and could strip naked and offer her every pore to Sol's touch. It made her feel good, and it made her feel good about herself. She began to notice just how sexy she was, how silky her skin was, how pert and bouncy her breasts were. She noticed and enjoyed it, and she wanted other people to notice too. As 'Carol Danvers' she began to dress much more revealingly too, enjoying the stares she recieved, the compliments she heard, how with her super hearing she could pick out everything they said about her and what they wanted to do to her. It made her giggle.

She knew the sunlight was messing with her head. On days she went sunbathing she became gigglier, simpler... happier... hornier. Some days she would lie bare on the beach, her fingers deep in her sun kissed body as she used her hearing to listen to the world for sounds of love making and passionate sex, and especially anyone playing out fantasies about her.

More that once she would hear people call her a 'bimbo'. As Supergirl or Carol Danvers, on the streets, in the sky or stretched out on the beach. She worried some days they were right, that she was letting the sun bleach her brain into bubbly pink submission, that if she kept it up she really would be a bimbo. Some days she thought about it, and she just giggled. Some days, as she lay on the beach, she listened for it especially, her back arching as she came to the sound of people saying what a bimbo Supergirl was.

But deep inside there was a frustration. She felt... alone. She was hearing these things said about her, not to her. She wanted to be touched, she wanted to please, she wanted to be the one with her lips around her man's cock as he said what a good bimbo she was. On her clearer days the idea was scary, but even on those clearer days it was tempting.