You Be My Hero, I'll Be Yours

"And a good morning to you. I hope I didn't wake you up." He sounded more confident than he felt.

"Not at all. Can't you tell I've been up for hours, styled my hair, carefully chose my morning outfit?" She plucked at her robe's skirt, knees bending in a slight curtsy. He couldn't help noticing that the opening at her neck slipped wider with her little bow, showing more of her bare chest than he'd seen last night. At least it kept some of his thoughts away from the sensitive backs of those bare, bent knees.

"You...look great."

"Why thank you, young sir." Another wide smile. "How much longer do you think this will take?"

She pointed at the remaining displays.

He shrugged, estimating in his head. "Not long. An hour maybe. I'll be out of your hair soon."

She frowned at that last. "No. I want to make you breakfast. It's the least I can do after...all the help you've been. Pancakes okay?"

"You don't need to..."

"Chaz. I don't need to. I want to. Now just say 'yes, pancakes sound great.'"

"Uh. Pancakes actually do sound great." There was no food in the house, just the few pieces of furniture that had qualified the rental as 'furnished.'

"Perfect. Just come on in when you're done. No need to ring the bell. I'm gonna take a shower now and then I'll start making the batter."

He failed entirely in his effort to avoid picturing Cheryl in the shower, hair wet and slicked back, glistening streams of water running down over her...Inwardly, he shook his head, seeking something besides that image to focus on. "'Making the batter?' You're making pancakes from scratch?"

Her hands settled at her waist above the outward flare marking the flare of sweet hips. "What? You think I'd serve boxed pancake mix to my own personal superhero? For shame."

*CHERYL*

While the water warmed up in the shower she searched the back of the closet. The bright colors and shimmer of metallic fabric made it easy to find what she sought. The matching boots were on the shelf above. Tossing the lot onto her bed, she felt a distinct thrill, blending pleasure-charged memories of the outfit's past use and a naughty flutter in her chest at the risk that she was considering taking this morning with Chaz. Last night's riskiness had not gone particularly well, though the young stud hadn't been too scared off: he was back at her door first thing in the morning.

Soaping up, she imagined lathering suds all over a certain solid, oversized body. A body she could picture better now after he had stripped off his tight t-shirt, held her so splendidly safe against him. Her mind wandered on to his big hands roaming her own naked, soapy form, then pushing her up against the slick tiled wall, his weight leaning in, compressing her lungs. Warmth flushed her cheeks and throat, extending down. Rinsing soap off, fingers slipped between her thighs, finding herself wetter than the shower itself could account for.

She hesitated only a moment before reaching for the shower head and its long attached hose. He'd said it would be close to an hour. She had time. Without his help, she leaned herself back against the tiles, aiming the massaging pulse of water low, replacing her exploring fingers.

Eyes closed, water beating down on her bare skin, she saw his powerful body arch next to her on the couch, felt his thick shape pump under her hand, soon followed by it pressing hard between her splayed legs, his unexpected weight leaving her suddenly breathless. Her racing mind changed things this time: the arcing body was entirely naked, his thick pumping shape was wrapped in her hand. This time his creamy sprays of release striped unimpeded up that amazing chest, one hot, heavy splash wetting her cheek as her lips stayed sealed over a sensitive, perfect little nipple.

The orgasm arrived quickly as she her bit down on her wrist, muffling any incriminating moan. Couldn't have Beth be right about the sounds escaping this house now that a big, thick Chaz was around.

After she allowed herself a weak-legged moment's recovery on the shower's narrow bench, she toweled off, pulled on the snug assortment of red, blue and gold waiting on the bed. Snug? It had been snugly fitted several years ago when she'd worn it last. Now, the few pounds she'd put on since them seemed concentrated solely on her bust and hips. For a moment she thought the back zipper would fail, sticking. She backed it up, tried again, succeeded on the third, more desperate tug.

She checked the mirror. Damn. She looked hot. She definitely wouldn't be wearing this for a kid's event anytime soon, not with that much leg showing and boobs that looked like they were about to pop out, but for the audience she had in mind? Just right.

The boots would wait, though their heels exaggerated her already-long legs so very nicely. She wrapped the robe over everything, staying barefoot, checked the mirror once more to make sure the extra layer hid it all before padding to the kitchen to whip up some pancakes.

"Uh...Knock. Knock." She'd heard the front door open, smiled at the hesitation in Chaz's tentative call.

"I'm in the kitchen." Her sudden nerves surprised her. She shook her head: Was she still in high school, waiting for her prom date to show up with a corsage?

He looked so cute, jacket tossed over one broad shoulder, face flushed, possibly from working in the chill autumn morning air. Why had she pushed him so hard last night? 'So hard' was right. Damn it. Get your mind out of the gutter, you helplessly horny minx!

"Breakfast can be ready in five. Do you want to wash up first?"

He looked down at his hands. She didn't mention the stripe of dust marring his brow. "That'd probably be a good idea. Thanks."

"Thank you, my hero. For all your hard work this morning and last night." Double damn! Why did she have to keep saying 'hard?'

Fortunately, he didn't react, heading off to the hall bathroom.

She checked everything, reaching out to point with nervous fingers: batter, griddle, spatula, coffee, syrup, butter. Oh! What did he take with his coffee?

She was giggling at her silent quip before she finished forming the thought: he could take her with his coffee. And then again with dessert. Refills? As many as you'd like. Extra cream? Yes please! She stepped into the hall, following the sound of water splashing.

"Chaz?" At least he wouldn't know why she sounded like she was laughing. "Do you take cream or...oh. I..."

It wasn't fair. The door was open. He'd stripped down to his waist again and this time his bare chest glistened with water, rivulets making their way down from the overhang of his beefy pectorals, eventually finding the web-belted waistband of his jeans -- 501s -- slung lusciously low on his hips.

With his hands splashing water over his face as she rounded the corner, she thought she'd gotten away with the initial gawk. A tiny curl of wet, pushed-back hair at the side of his strong neck screamed for attention.

"Yes please. Both." He cocked his head to the side. A single drop of water released, shaking the little curl. "No. Just milk. Or cream. No sugar. Sorry. It's just pancake syrup is already sweet so that's enough."

"Sorry? What possible reason do you have to be sorry? Makes total sense. Cream, no sugar it is."

His face was frozen, mouth open, eyes caught. Sorry? Oh no: He had fled last night mumbling an apology after her own stupidity. She was the one who should...

"I'm so sorry..." It was simultaneous: they both started, stopped with the same, identical three words.

Both tried again. "You don't..."

After a second jinx moment, neither could resist the chuckle. Fed by nerves, their laughs extended, a cleansing, welcome interruption in the awkwardness.

Chaz toweled off, still grinning. She had mixed feelings at the action. As much as she enjoyed watching how the muscles in his arms and shoulders moved as he dried himself, she already missed the sheen of the water glistening across his chest.

Then he was holding his shirt. "This is pretty filthy. Is my, uh, Superman shirt here?"

Of course it was, but bringing it up was recognition that last night had happened. Broaching a subject that needed to be faced tactfully. Bless his heart.

It turned out that the tightness of the t-shirt eliminated most of the wrinkles from spending the night balled up on the floor. She had a plate in front of each of them, and coffee well-creamed for him, before she brought up the topic again. She wouldn't even consider the possible double meaning of 'well-creamed.' Nope.

"Chaz?"

"Mm-hm?" His mouth was freshly stuffed with a hearty bite. She was almost sure the little glimmer at one corner of his lips was melted butter. She could reach out now with a finger and...No. Back on track.

Fortunately, he wiped the distraction away with his napkin.

"So. I need to say something, so let me finish. Okay?"

He gave her his complete attention. So serious. So earnest.

"I want to apologize."

He started speak, no doubt to tell her she wasn't the one who needed to apologize, caught himself, stayed silent.

"Last night I took things too far. You were so sweet, a complete gentleman. You didn't question my weird request. You didn't try to...anything. And I kept, well, let's say I was pushing your buttons."

He actually snorted. She giggled at that, the sound high and nervous to her ears. But they were both grinning, bursting through the worst of the tension.

"Yeah. You could say that. Pushing my buttons, huh?"

"Yep. I have to say I liked pushing those sexy, kryptonite buttons of yours. A lot."

"Uhm. I liked it too." He nearly whispered it.

"I could tell."

Too far. His cheeks flushed and his eyes dropped. "I shoulda been able to...I can't believe I..."

"Chaz..."

"No. My turn now. And I want to apologize for...losing control like that."

"Wait. Are you apologizing for cumming last night?"

His cheeks were glowing red. "Uh yeah. Cumming. Cumming in my damn pants."

His eyes stayed down, his voice bitter.

She pressed on, too late to stop. "Yeah, like you purposefully prevented me from seeing all that hot creamy cum splashing onto your body, striping up your sexy stomach and maybe even all over that incredible chest? Maybe even preventing me from giving in to temptation and taking a nice long, slow taste of it, lapping and slurping it off your bare skin? Licking, sucking, swallowing until I had you all cleaned up. Is that what you're sorry about?"

His eyes were back up now, wide and staring. His jaw hung open.

"Did I go too far?" Inwardly, she was proud. That had taken so much courage to say out loud, bringing up desires she had never really verbalized like that before. He didn't answer, so she kept going. In for a pound...

"Chaz. I really, really enjoyed last night. All of it. And especially how it felt to be able to trust you. I was very vulnerable and you were a total gentleman. Well, almost all of it. Except maybe you running off and leaving me like that after we fell off the couch."

"We didn't fall off." Good. He was talking at least. "I shoved you off and then landed on you. I'm surprised I didn't break you.

She coughed out a laugh. "Break me? I don't know if you noticed, my hero, but I'm not the daintiest of creatures. What?"

His expression had changed. "I've noticed. Definitely. I've known it for years. You're not a wimpy little girl. You're a strong, fit, intelligent woman. A powerful woman."

Right now she felt like a horny woman. Just mentioning slurping his cum off his young chest had stirred hungers that mere pancakes wouldn't sate. His glowing description of her didn't do anything to calm her urges. He hadn't called her large or tall. He'd called her powerful.

"Powerful,' huh? I think I like that. Do you like powerful women, Mr. Kent?"

"Please, you can call me Clark." It eased her worry to hear him back to bantering. "And as a reporter, I have to report that, yes, I do like powerful women. Especially one."

It was her turn to be stunned, speechless. It was the shy, earnest way he'd said the last two words. What was he saying? She cleared her throat, gathering her wits. Crossing her arms, she acted more confidently than she felt. "And just who is this amazing, powerful woman who strikes the fancy of the Man of Steel?"

He was grinning now. "Well, she's definitely powerful. Tall, incredibly strong, confident, beautiful. And tough. Very tough. Long flowing dark hair. Eyes that can melt a man's heart."

"Keep going. I like this so far. Who could this exceptional woman be?"

"Well, she's known better by her nickname than her actual given one."

"Wha...huh?" Cheryl had never really had a nickname, even growing up. Who was he talking about? She took a slow sip of coffee to cover her confusion.

"I'm talking about Wonder Woman of course."

She actually spit the coffee back into the cup.

"Would you like more coffee? I'll get it." She stood, pushing back her chair. He showed up as Superman last night, then brings up Wonder Woman this morning? She was rattled, stunned.

"Oh. By the way, I saw a better way of storing all the frameworks for the Halloween displays." Poor boy, he couldn't know why she had reacted that way, but he was trying to smooth things over.

"They're hanging on the far wall in the garage and now everything else fits underneath them. I'm pretty sure there's room for you to park your car in the garage now. If you wanted to. Like, in the winter. What? You're looking at me funny."

She tried to hold back the tears. Failed.

It was one of the rare things she and Johnathan had butted heads on. Repeatedly. She wanted to park the car in the garage. He could never quite limit his projects to half the space designed for two cars.

*CHAZ*

"Oh no. I'm sorry. Please. Don't cry. I can put everything back the way it was." He stood now too, his big hands hovering between them, unsure what to do.

She launched herself at him, the impact enough to move him back a step. Her arms were around his shoulders, face tucked against his neck, smearing wet tears. He couldn't help delighting in having her so near again, close enough to hold, to catch a whiff of her scent magnified by her soft hair, still damp from the shower.

He didn't want to dwell on the shower though. With her pushed up against him again, the last thing he needed was to ruin it again by thinking too much about Cheryl naked in the shower, or still naked afterwards, slipping on a robe. Though he thought now that he could feel cloth of some kind rustling under the robe. Good. Think about that: she wasn't nearly naked in his arms. Nice, conservative pajamas under the robe, thoroughly covering the incredible body clinging to him.

She sucked in a deep breath. Exhaled. She wasn't crying anymore and it hadn't descended into the heart-wrenching sobs she'd had last night. The twin slender pythons cinched around his neck relaxed, let her lean back enough to look up at him. "I'm okay. Thanks. Once again my hero is there to stop the tears, and make everything alright."

He let her ease back, hands staying on her hips.

"Oops." Her hand picked at his collar. "I think I cried on your super shirt, Superman. It's getting to be a habit."

"Hey. Remember: I'm not the only superhero here. You're pretty dang amazing."

"Yeah. Right." Her eyes were down, avoiding meeting his, but her fingers still tugged at his shirt. "That's me: 'Look! Up in the sky. Able to cry at a moment's notice, it's...Wimpy Girl!'"

At least he could see her eyes again, and they looked amused at her own sudden narration. He matched her smile. "One thing I am sure of: you are not a wimpy girl. You're an amazing, strong, smart wonder of a woman."

The amusement was still there, kind of. More surprised. The silent look unnerved him enough that he continued on, risking babbling. "Hmm. 'A wonder of a woman.' There sounds like there might be a superhero idea in there somewhere. Yes indeed. If I'm your Superman in this dynamic duo, you must be my Woman of Wonder."

Her eyes still looked puzzled, but her open smile stretched wider than he had yet seen it. Delighted. A new brightness glinted in both her eyes, almost giddy. "You think I might make a good Wonder Woman, huh?"

"A good one? No. I think you are a truly wonderful, magical, dare I say exquisite Wonder Woman." He worried he had gone too far but the delight only grew, now adding amusement back into the confusing array of messages her expressions threw his way.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?" She almost glowed with nervous energy, her voice rising. Not only could he see it, his hands could feel her excitement almost vibrating. He desperately wanted to kiss her upturned lips right then, but remembered from last night that kissing was a line she feared to cross.

"I'm absolutely positive."

Still, she paused before asking. "Can I show you something?"

"So I have a choice?"

She shrugged, enjoying the play. And her enjoyment thrilled him. "No. Not really. But I think you'll like it. Stay here."

He stayed.

Looking down at the table, he thought about snagging her fork, stabbing a bite of syrup-soaked pancake off her plate.

"I won't be a minute." She called from around the corner. Her bedroom?

The fork stayed where it was. He could wait that long.

The click-click of leather-soled heels punctuated her return, far different from her earlier barefoot gliding across the kitchen.

"Woah. What the..." He knew he was staring and stuttering as she waited, arms crossed, for his tongue to catch up with his thoughts. "Those are...Wonder Woman's boots."

"Indeed they are. Sweet, huh?"

Bright red leather boots, each capped with a bold white stripe, showed below her robe. They fit close, following the lush curves of her calves, ending just below the knee. Somehow, the narrow band of bare skin above them, between the top of the boots and the hem of her robe, was more enticing now than when she'd been barefoot, showing off her entire lower leg.

"Are you done with the breakfast?" She stepped close, reaching past him for his empty plate. It brought his attention reluctantly up, away from the boots and her legs. The heels brought her up to at least his own shoe-less height, maybe a hair taller.

When she picked up her own plate and turned, heading to the sink, the view of her backside demanded his full attention, with no room for considering the remaining pancake that had tempted him a moment ago. Her steps continued the rhythmic click-click from before, her belted hips swaying. But it was the graceful curve of her calves, stretched by the heels and encased in leather, that demanded his attention. That and the bare backs of her knees just above.

Almost mesmerized, he followed her, stepping close behind her as she deposited the plates in the sink. Surprising himself with sudden boldness, he brought his hands to the swelling of her hips from behind. "Yes. They're sweet. Amazingly so. Almost as amazing as you are, Woman of Wonder."

"Mmmm. Now who's sweet?" That simple hum of satisfaction took him back to last night.

She surprised him completely when she pushed away from the counter, leaned back against his chest. Her head fell onto his shoulder, thick soft hair brushing against him.

He sucked in a shocked breath when soft lips pressed to his neck, held there for a timeless moment and then withdrew. His immediate reaction was to pull back from her, at least far enough that she wouldn't notice the excitement he felt suddenly growing. Yes, she had kissed his neck. But that didn't mean he should push a stiffening boner up against her. Way too far.

Instead, he dropped to his knees, his hands leaving her waist, lowered to stroke over smooth, supple red leather. "I need to check out these amazing boots a little closer."

*CHERYL*

She suppressed a giggled, mostly. "You check them out all you want, Superman."