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Atlee stared at the television from the comfort of the couch she was stretched out on and the blanket she was cuddled up in. This garden hose seemed like an extraordinarily cumbersome, even dangerous product. She didn’t know how anyone could buy them without this ‘Hose Hitch’ that could be bought for such a low, low price, and with only a few easy payments. How could such a necessary invention be advertised in the middle of the night? She would have to talk to Karen about getting one.The door sweep open, letting in a sound of giggling and hushing. Atlee thought of making the effort to look over the back of the couch and see who’d come in, but Karen was suddenly there anyway, leaning over to her. “Hey, Atlee. Feeling better?””A little,” Atlee said. “I think I might’ve gotten some backwash from the Parasite when he drained my powers. Superpower backwash. So gross.”Karen patted her on the head. “I know, baby. Just keep resting, it’ll all come back to you. I’m just gonna go to my room and listen to some music, okay?””Escorts Hampstead” said Atlee, who was usually not given Karen’s itinerary. “Want me to show you how to skip ads on Spotify again?””No, you should rest. And I don’t need you to figure out technology. You live in a hole.””Uh-huh.””I’m not old.””No.””But I mean it,” Karen insisted, drawing Atlee’s blanket further up her body and bunching it underneath her. “Sleep. If you need anything, call me on my phone. I won’t be able to hear you calling me with your voice. Not with my music playing. And you really shouldn’t try to walk to my room. So just call my cell phone, I’ll have it on vibrate, and I’ll come over to delight you with my youthful charm and girlishness.”
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But Atlee was already down the hall, peeking into Karen’s room. Suddenly, she felt like her powers had been drained all over again. It wasn’t the words that made her feel woozy. She recognized Karen, and the man fucking her. Hiro Okamura had Power Girl pinned to the bed, the little pervert on top of her, his slender body almost swallowed up by her abundant curves, his head lost between her breasts.He was pumping between her open legs, her knees rubbing the sides of his body as he drove himself into her cunt. Karen seemed almost relaxed by his huffing and puffing, taking it like she would a massage—”mmm, yes, that’s nice, like that, baby, keep going”—while Hiro grunted and groaned, telling her she was a goddess, a beauty, the perfect woman.Atlee wanted to break and run—clearly this was somewhat very private, taboo, possibly illegal. Hiro was young enough to be—well, not Karen’s son, she really wasn’t that old, but maybe her nephew? From an older sister? Escorts Hampstead, if Karen were the youngest of four or so kids, and the oldest had a son…Atlee wasn’t really trying to figure it out. Her eyes were darting around, taking in every detail of this lewdness. If she hunched down and leaned inside the room a little, she could see Karen’s perfect cunt being opened right up, her labia obscenely kissing Hiro’s cock. She watched Hiro run his cockhead up and down Karen’s liquid slit, making it gleam with her juices, then ram it back inside. Atlee swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly full of cotton. She couldn’t believe she was seeing this. She couldn’t look away.”Fuck me more,” Karen ordered, her brusque voice seeming so loud that Atlee wanted to clap her hands over her ears.Her body was undulating in obvious arousal, dancing into Hiro’s steady pumping, teasing and fulfilling him all at once. Atlee didn’t understand how sex could make Karen so… so… slutty. She was a sensible person, Atlee knew, not the type for flights of fancy or reckless, impulsive behavior. In fact, she chided Atlee on occasion for not thinking things through. Yet here she was, begging for the cock shooting deep and demanding inside of her—doubling up and locking her legs around Hiro’s wrist to pull herself even more firmly onto his cock.”YES!” Karen huffed, gasping for breath, her tongue flicking out obscenely. Her entire body went limp, but Hiro kept fucking right through her orgasm, Karen smiling dazedly as her pleasure started all over again. “Escorts Hampstead…”Atlee couldn’t imagine what was so great about having such an ugly thing shoved into you, especially into such a tender place. Her fingers drifted down to her crotch and idly covered it, as if trying to hide it from such a clear threat. She was a little surprised to find a wetness, maybe the size of a silver dollar, in the front of her canvas shorts. It was the slick, sweet-smelling stuff that came out when she saw Nightwing walking around, his firmly muscled ass rolling slightly, his strong arms flexing, his flesh possessing some strange alchemy that could only be understood by touch, not sight.