SUPERHERO SEX STORIES

My Chance to Meet a Superhero

bypuzzlegirl

Here he comes again, the costumed vigilante, the icon of justice, the steadfast opponent of evil and wrongdoing. Sometimes he's already here when I get home.  Usually crashing on the couch or in my bed, or using the shower. He gets into my apartment via the balcony, no easy feat ten stories up from street level.

I never know what he's been doing or where he's been- whether he's just come from thwarting an archvillain, saving innocent people from certain death or sending a dozen thugs to the hospital- but I always know what he's like: lonely, exhausted, starved for affection, coming down from a major burst of adrenaline and horny as hell.

I've seen him on the evening news and discussed frequently in the newspaper. His iconic, graphic costume is known in every household of the country.

It's like I'm fucking a celebrity, only no one knows it but me.  I was never any sort of fangirl, although the occasional tv coverage of him fighting on rooftops in the city I call my hometown gave me a bit of a thrill. He was an object of fascination, but not relatable. He was a symbol, a costume- albeit an incredibly buff one. Unless I was unfortunate enough to find myself in incredible danger I didn't expect or hope to ever meet him. Some people feel the same about the police.

Being single and sex-less for several years gives you unreasonably high expectations. Working with an all-female, older staff doesn't give you much opportunity to meet men. So when I was set up for a blind date by my co-worker I primped within an inch of my life. Best date dress- black, low-cut and form-fitting- sultry makeup, everything shaved below the waist. What if? Just in case... I had to make a good impression.

Long story short, the blind date bombed, hard- resulting in me sneaking away before dessert and retreating into the darkest club I could find, dancing half-heartedly in a room full of strangers and drinking in earnest, hoping I wasn't as boring as the loser I just had dinner with.

Tired of being splashed with beer and smeared with strangers' sweat, I left before the clubs were even crowded and set off for home on foot, cab money unwittingly spent. My dress had mysterious sticky spots, the "waterproof" mascara I had applied was making for my cheeks and I realized that in my haste to leave I had left my jacket at the restaurant. I was, as the kids say, a "hot mess".

Shivering non-stop, I walked the long trek home alone, sweat seeming to freeze to my skin. Mercifully few people were around to witness my shame and disregarded a sad looking girl hugging herself and marching stiffly down the sidewalk.

When I passed the police station two blocks from my apartment, sickened, disheveled and feeling pitiful, I saw him- the superhero himself- leaving the building, no doubt dropping off his latest capture. I stopped and stared as he emerged- he was so tall in real life!- chest broad and limbs lean and muscled, his chiseled features thrown into sharp contrast under the streetlights.

I saw him stop and inadvertently glance my way. His eyes were obscured by the shadow of the eye mask and I didn't know whether his brows furrowed in concern, or contempt. He made a small move then paused, as if he didn't know whether to approach or call out.

Did he have nowhere else to be this time of night? Did he have time for me?  My heart slowed in this small moment of rare possibility. Mind hazy and dreamy, my body acted on its own, unfolded my goose-pimpled arms, transfixed him with my raccoon-eyes and I heard my voice blurt out,

"Walk me home?"  Incredibly, he did.

Had nothing more to do that night, did you, superhero? Maybe he had been awake for 40 hours straight, or was tired of crime for the day. Something that night made him weary enough to escort a lone drunk girl home.  Although I had sobered up from the cold, I let him open my apartment door and feed me a glass of water. I made sure he saw me enter the bedroom, and as soon as I saw his shadow in the doorway I knew it was now or never, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And I really had nothing to lose if I tried it.