The world had been electrified by news of Superman's cousin coming to Earth. Ever since last year, when a series of interviews by Lois Lane had delved into Superman's feelings of isolation, the world's heart had gone out to him. Even if he characterized himself as being perfectly content almost all the time, people were quick to see him as a martyr.

Kara was seen as an end to his loneliness. Most, not knowing any better, expected her to join her cousin in the costumed family business. Many even looked for evidence of a romantic relationship between the two. All were surprised when Kal-El announced that Kara would be joining him as a superhero—once she finished training at the Xavier Institute.

In mutant circles, it was considered a huge get for Scott Summers. He and Xavier had long dreamed of teaching not just mutants, but metahumans as well, and even exceptionally intelligent baseline humans in how to responsibly build their jetpacks and powered armor. Being trusted by Superman would also help their cause.

He also knew that Kal wasn't just trusting him to teach Kara, but to defend her. It would take years of exposure to Earth's yellow sun before she was anywhere near as powerful as her cousin. The placement was a mutual-defense pact. Anti-mutants knew the school was defended, as did enemies of Superman. It was a win-win all around.

Kara hated it. Hated Superpowered Ethics with Professor Wagner, hated Posthuman Biology with Professor McCoy, hated Extreme Condition Survival with Professor Logan. The only course she could at all stand was Self-Defense with Professor Summers. Typically, no one else liked it. They all wanted to learn how to crack heads from a badass. They didn't get that he was teaching them control, the primitives. She was the only one who showed up for his tutoring sessions, sparring on the front lawn, under the summer sun while everyone stayed inside for air conditioning and internet.

She still disliked it, though. Learning judo flips and blocks. Maybe she only went because she didn't have to put up with any other students. "Why do I need to learn how to fight someone stronger than me? Once I soak up enough sun, there won't be anyone stronger than me."

Scott lunged at her again. She grabbed his arm to flip him, but he slipped out of her too-loose hold. "There's always someone stronger. I know it's frustrating, being powerless—"

"It's normal."

"Look at this as an opportunity." He gestured for her to come at him. She gave it her best shot, ended up flat on the mat. "You can learn how to fight before you're tempted to coast on your powers. And you know what it's like to be weak."

Kara got back up, hating how her muscles stung. Not a feeling she'd ever have on Krypton. "I'm not weak, I'm normal. You keep saying I'm going to fly and lift boulders and shoot lasers from my eyes. That's never been my life. I grew up 'powerless.' Now I'm getting stronger every day and—fine, I'm gonna fight monsters."

"You'll help people," Scott assured her. "Sometimes by fighting monsters. Come on, let's see another try."

Kara rushed him. Got his arm twisted around his back and shoved him to the ground before he could break loose. She wasn't sure she could hold him. He simply tapped.

"Good."

He was also concerned about her heatvision. Worried that when it came in, she wouldn't be able to control it.

He led her blindfolded through the mansion's hedge maze.

"Green-K radiation. Red sunlight. Magic. Your powers aren't guaranteed. They can be taken. If they are, you'll need to be able to fight like this."

"Like someone put a blindfold on me?" she asked, stumbling into a hedge.

"If your ocular powers are out of control, you won't be able to use your sight." Spitting leaves, Kara followed his voice. "It's not like I can see where I'm going."

"Not a fair comparison. You already know the maze."

"We redid it after the last Reaver attack. Focus. Hear the interaction of the wind with the leaves around you." So saying, Scott took a corner.

Kara followed him, though her shoulder brushed against a bush. His footsteps were light, but she could hear them if she strained. That wasn't good enough for her, though. Scott was being too smug for her to want to learn something from him; she wanted to cheat instead. She'd always heard jokes about her X-ray vision. If she could just look through her blindfold.

She applied herself. Eyes opened, she focused on the inside of the blindfold, trying to see into the cloth, see through it—and abruptly, she saw out into the world. A hedge row stood before her; abruptly vanished as she looked through it. She reined it in like she were focusing her eyes. Her sight slipped back and she was only looking through the blindfold, no further. She felt a bit like she was near-sighted, having to adjust her vision constantly.

Kara looked over to see Scott. True to his word, he'd taken his visor off, which (since the landscape wasn't being redone by optic blast) meant he was navigating the maze by only four senses. She followed him like a duckling after its mother, totally unprepared for his clothes fading off his body.

She thought it was some sort of mutant thing for a moment, before remembering her shifting power. A long moment. She didn't think to stop doing it. His clothes were loose but well-fitted, T-shirt and pants giving an impression of his contours when they creased around his body, but without them—

He was powerfully built within his trim, compact frame, muscles shifting under his skin like the strings of a well-tuned instrument. The interplay of his musculature traipsed across old scars criss-crossing his body, not excessively, but just enough to spice up an almost blandly handsome shape. Like ivy growing over an abandoned statue, it drummed up her interest in an otherwise flawless body. And then there was his dick.

When he turned, she saw it cupped in his briefs. Even cooped up, it was large, almost unseemly. It barely seemed humanoid—more the kind of appendage one of Krypton's zoological specimens could possess. She could hardly believe such an organ would be used for breeding. The skin was dark, stretched taut over thick heft and large veins, running all the way down to a suitable cap. Kara could imagine it parting her. Opening her up…

The dream she had that night confirmed it. She had a crush on Scott Summers.

Scott was pleased to see his students paying attention. Led by Kara in the front row, they stared raptly as he went through small-unit tactics, along with variations to be employed with some common powers like rapid healing, superstrength, superspeed, telekinesis, et al. It was advanced stuff—though nothing so AP as figuring out how to use mutant translation abilities to stop the Kree—and he was glad they were following along.

Now if only he could do the same. He didn't know how to tell Kara—and surely she had no way of knowing—but when she saw in her chair that way, wearing a skirt as short as hers, and panties as skimpy as her's… well, she was perfectly within her rights to dress the way she did, but he wondered if she knew what he could see when his eyes drifted for just a millisecond.

From: karazorel

To: scottsummers

Re: Photography class

Hey Mr. Summers, sorry if you're busy, but I haven't been doing so well in Professor Grant's photography class and I wonder if you could give me your opinion on these self-portraits I took. Should I throw them out or turn them in? Don't feel like you need to reply or anything, I'm sure you're busy keeping the world safe for mutantkind, but if you do find the time, thank you sooooo much!

Kara.

Scott didn't know what to make of the files attached. He'd hesitate to describe them as inappropriate, much less pornographic or obscene. They were simple pictures of Kara in her room, wearing a ribbed tanktop and drawstring pants, both cotton, both white. They covered her quite well. She struck a few poses, some serious, some goofing off, the camera catching her well as she held her hair in pigtails or blew a bubble of gum.

Or, sometimes, when she laid on the bed and gave the camera a serene look that was not unseductive. But not invitatory either. The kind of look he supposed you'd see in a catalog. That was probably where she'd gotten in from. Just a warm, affectionate look. It didn't cause the stirrings in his groin. There were no stirrings. It was just late and he was tired.

He sent back a reply saying the pictures looked great.

"Knock knock!" Kara said brightly, standing outside his open door. Scott looked up from his desk to see her, as advertised, standing in the doorway. She wore a white man's blouse over a set of skinny jeans, puckishly untucked, a snakeskin belt catching the light from behind the lower hems. He was glad to see her acclimating to Earth fashion—she looked great.

"Kara," he greeted her warmly, as befitted such a good student. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Thanks, Mr. Summers." She shut the door behind her. "You mind? It's kinda personal."

"It's no trouble," he replied.

"Great!" she bounded her way over to him, sweeping her backpack off her shoulders and rifling through it to a folder. "I was doing an essay for Dr. McCoy, but I'm not sure I'm getting all the nuances of your language right and I really don't want to get a failing grade just because I've only known English a couple months. Think you could read it?"

"Certainly."

He took the offered folder, spreading it open on his workspace, found the first line with his forefinger and tracked it for the first few sentences as he read. As always, he quickly found himself absorbed in his work, not even aware of Kara's lingering presence beside him until he noticed an error.

He reached for his pen and found Kara was leaning on the desk beside him, her pert bust inches from his face. He stared into it—the outline of her bra, and the erect nipples denting it, visible through thin covering. Then he looked away before his gaze became improper, instead scrawling a note down beside the offending paragraph.

"It's very good work," he said, hurrying through the rest of the paper, adrenaline shooting his mind forward to the necessary thoughts and recommendations. "Just a few things to watch out for in the future. I'd recommend—well, I'll send you a link, but John Baxter over at Harvard has a very good series on exactly the thing you're struggling with."

"Really?" Kara adjusted her posture, putting the hand she had resting on the desk millimeters from where his held down the paper. "That would be so great."

"Yes. Well, I do run a school. I look forward to reading your final draft."

"How about my next draft?" Kara replied. Her pinky finger collided with the side of her hand with just the slight splay of her fingers.

Scott was hesitant, something in him screaming warnings… possibly at the fact that something else was screaming something else. "I wouldn't count on it—I may be busy. I wouldn't want to give you unrealistic expectations."

"Oh, I know what I'm expecting. I've seen it."

He looked up. Her face was inches from his, the brush of her finger on his skin stirring up a tremble. "Seen it?"

"A nice big A," Kara replied. "Maybe an A+."

Scott coughed. "Well, not to dispute whatever grade Dr. McCoy judges appropriate, but this does seem like A-level work to me."

"Good." Kara flashed teeth like high-beams. "I'd hate to get a D!"

When she left, Scott found himself straightening the place up, as he'd put off doing for weeks.

The next day, she came back with a new draft of her paper and lunch for the two of them. It was all he could do, concentrating on the taste of the food, the text of the paper, and the sight of her lips wrapped around a drinking straw, all at once.

The day after that, he found a set of red panties in his desk drawer.

He wasn't sure about confronting Kara in her room. He just didn't want to get her in any trouble or draw any undue attention to her. Those were noble enough motivations, weren't they?

He also wasn't sure about the way she sat on her bed, her blue crop-top stretching across her chest, her red skirt stopping at her knees.

"Kara, I realize this is a very awkward question to ask—believe me, it is for me as well—but did you plant a pair of panties in my office?"

"Yes," Kara admitted readily.

Scott exhaled. He'd been so ready for her to grow vehemently defensive—call her cousin on him—that even her being the guilty party was a comparative relief. "Could you tell me why you did that?"

"I've researched Earth customs. It's an affectionate gesture, right?"

Scott just had to laugh. "It is at that. Just somewhat… too affectionate. On Earth—in America, at least—that gesture carries sexual undertones."

Kara stared at him with big, blue eyes. "You want to have sex with me, sir?"

"No! No, no, that's not what I was implying—the… 'gift' of your panties is usually understood to signify sexual attraction on the part of the giver."

"Ah." Kara nodded. "I had hoped that would be the case. I thought I'd been unclear."

"Unclear…" Scott repeated. "You can't mean…?"

"I wish to have intercourse with you. I know Earth has its own courtship rituals—they seem largely reasonable—I haven't messed any up, have I?"

"No, I… you've done fine, I suppose, I just don't think of you as a sexual partner."

"You don't?" Kara stood, the action pushing her perky breasts against her softball shirt. "Do you find me unattractive?"

"That's not it, you're a very attractive young woman, Kara."

"Are you homosexual?"

"No! It's just that… well, on Earth, the age differential between us would be considered…"

"I am nineteen in Earth years. This makes me old enough to choose and engage my sexual partners, correct?"

"Yes, that's right. But there's also the matter of me being a teacher and you being a student."

"I've seen this online," Kara nodded. "It has its place in your mating rituals, correct? You will assign me a failing grade and then I will ask what I can do to improve it…"

Scott would have to check on the school's internet filter. "That's not it. The issue is that, as your teacher, I have power over you, so I could exert an undue influence on whatever relationship we embark—"

Kara reached out, grabbed the bed by one post, and picked it up. "You have power over me?" she asked.

"…in a matter of speaking."

She put the bed down. "I couldn't do that yesterday. When I got here, I was normal. Every day I change. I have to be careful now, not to hit someone when I run down the halls and send them flying. I think soon, I won't be able to touch people at all. Not without hurting them."

"Superman—"

"Had years. Took years to be able to… I don't wanna wait. I want to know what it's like to be kissed. I want to embrace a man before I crush him. Wouldn't you like it? You've seemed so lonely ever since Ms. Frost left you for that billionaire—couldn't I please you as well as she did? They said that relationship was wrong too, didn't they?"

"It's not right," he told her firmly.

"On Earth," she replied. "I'm from Krypton." She looked around the room, the furniture white like her home, decorations crystal like her home, a mural of a red sun painted on one wall. "Can't we be on Krypton, just for a while?"

What would Professor X? He's say 'no.' A flat, unequivocal no. A lecture on the position of trust and authority Scott was in, the duties and responsibility that came with that position, all the moral probity he'd gain from resisting, all the consequences that would arise from giving in. 'No!' He formed the word on his lips. 'No!'

"Yes!" he said, and she stripped off her shirt like he'd fired a racing pistol. She wore no bra. Her body was beautifully formed—bronze skin, golden hair, her sex tender and delicate-looking with a down of tawny fluff.

His cock, aching its way out of softness since her curt admission that the panties were hers, now grew rock-hard, tipping upward along his zipper. Kara blurred to release it, ripping his pants away with one tug of her arm, leaving his cock free to tap the bottom of her chin. She oohed in awe, eyes crossing at the spectacle. The sight of it crammed inside his jeans was nothing next to it dangling free, much less hardening to the consistency of steel. Her soft little hands wound over and across his erection, sensually caressing it with palms and fingers.

Scott being Scott, he started to have second thoughts. It hadn't been that long since Emma left—not even since Jean had died. Was he really doing the right thing? He reached down to touch her blonde head, take her gaze off his throbbing erection. "Kara," he said softly, not sure how to break it to her.

His touch pushed a short distance downward, grazing her lips over the head of his cock. "Oh?" She looked up at him with her big, blue eyes. "Good idea!"

Her mouth opened. Soft, pillowy lips were suddenly wrapped around the end of Scott's prick. He moaned as feeling flooded into his groin, like the entire lower half of his body had all woken up, driving sensation up to his head, out into his arms. Hands balled into fists, one wrapped around a lock of Kara's flaxen hair. It was so damn soft. She was so damn soft, her skin, her mouth—everything soft and smooth. He moaned… softly.

In her own way, Kara was as nervous as he was. With a tentative touch, her hand stole around to grope the ass she stared at whenever Scott was in-costume, pulling him closer to her sucking mouth. Her other hand felt the length of unoccupied shaft extending from her mouth. It was pulsing in tune with her suction, the throbs and gulps traveling up her fingers. Eyes widening almost in disbelief, she let her fingers trail down to the base of his cock, then to the wiry pubic hair surrounding it, finally down to cradle his balls.

Scott's legs shook. He gasped in disbelief at Kara's skill and enthusiasm, the strength finally leaving his body as Kara sucked him down to the very root of his cock. He fell back, and in a flash, Kara was off his cock and catching him, then depositing him on the bed. His saliva-wet cock shot straight up from his groin like a flagpole.

"How am I doing, professor?" Kara asked, staring wide-eyed at the fruits of her labor. Emma must've been an idiot to leave a cock like that! "Does my assignment meet with satisfaction? I worked really hard on it!"

Scott may have been prim more often than not, but he didn't go from redhead to blonde to redhead to blonde by not being able to get into the swing of things. "It's more than satisfactory," he reported. "In fact, I'd be disappointed if you didn't go for extra credit."

Kara threw herself onto Scott's sprawling body. "I'll do anything to advance my academic career," she growled, rubbing her breasts on his flat stomach and kissing his chest.

His cock pushed demandingly into her naked belly. It was hard for her to ignore, but she was hungry, desperate. Her teeth sank into the flesh of his body and he felt her sharp nails scratch his sides. She came up to kiss along his jaw and cheek; he bit into the sweet-smelling skin of her neck and felt her delighted shriek through her teeth. With panting moans, she pulled herself away, shimmying down his body to attend to his erection once more. Her noisy slurping was like a warning klaxon.

Scott's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, even as enough power ran through his body, out the sides of his eyelids to make his visor glow like a cat's eyes at night. He couldn't think of Emma, Jean, no one but the girl sucking him off.

Her legs weren't pointed straight down, feet off the end of the bed, but hunched over on her side, legs curled under her. He reached down, managed to snag her ankle, and dragged her lower body around his cock—easy when she could levitate—to bring her sex to his mouth. Her ass dropped back down to his chest, a rudimentary 69, and he eagerly reached between the legs sprawled on his chest. Warm moisture coated her pussy. She was hot… tender… opening up at the merest touch of his exploring fingers. Scott wondered if she was a virgin or if her race simply didn't have hymens.

She moaned around his cock, feeling his fingers inching into her. "Oh, Mr. Summers!" she wailed, as soon as her lips were off his bloated cock. She shook around the cunt stuffed so full of new feelings. "Is that a passing grade?"

"A for effort," Scott reported, digging further into her sucking need. "Shows definite improvement—may get to skip a grade."

"Oh yes, Mr. Summers! I want to go to the next grade!"

"Then get to class," he ordered with a smack on her ass.

Kara looked back, mouth gaping open, ears burning, but there was no denying it was what she wanted. She crawled down to crouch over his prick, the spit-dripping cock pointed straight up at her pussy. Kara spread herself with trembling fingers, then lowered herself down to wrap her split lips around Scott's cock.

Instantly, his cockhead was up inside her, but her cunt was still a long way from his hilt. Kara could only imagine how much work it would take to get his mammoth erection into her. Had imagined it, lying awake at night, feeling hot but not hot enough, needing something to make her sweat…

"You're so big, Mr. Summers!" she panted, eyes shut in fear of the mere sight of his manhood poised under her. "Please fuck me, Mr. Summers! I need to pass this test! Help me pass your big test! Please help me fuck your big cock!"

She looked over her shoulder at him, a picture of pleading innocence, her little round ass sitting pretty on the end of his cock. He put his hands on her waist and eased her down, setting Kara to a whimpering protest that died down as she started to take his rigid staff inside her. Scott brought her down almost painfully far, her sighing almost growing too loud, before easing her back up.

Then back down, Kara's face upturned, pale pink lip between her teeth as he hissed into her once more. Back up.

She groaned with relief.

Back down.

She screwed up her face, then, as he forced her down another few inches, opened her eyes in shocked pleasure. Virgin or not, Scott guessed she had never had someone so far inside. He started to raise her off himself, but she slapped his hands away, working herself up a few inches before slamming back down and repeating the motion, always gaining ground, never relinquishing it, running her hips hard to get his foot of stiff prick crammed into her.

"This test is so hard!" she cried. "So long and hard!"

"You can finish it, Kara," he encouraged. A wry grin came over his face. "You just have to cram for it." Then he slapped her ass again.

"Yes, Mr. Summers!" Her ass bounced as she pounded herself down onto his cock. He gritted his teeth, pain cinching him as his cock split apart her tight pussy like a nail going into wood. It was such a tight fit, he expected friction burns. But Kara was insistent—and wet. One by one, every last pulsating inch of him was absorbed into Kara's pleasure.

"This better… show up… on the mid-term…" Kara sighed, resting with the pleasant pain of being totally filled radiating from deep inside her. She didn't rest long. Leaning back and resting her hands behind her, flat on Scott's broad chest, she began to lever her pert little ass up and down.

Scott groaned, her pussy sucking tightly at him as it pulled away, not wanting to let him go. But inevitably, inch after inch of pussy-wet phallus emerged from between her thighs, until only the tip remained hidden. Kara hung there, turning her head to meet his eyes with a glazed expression of expectation. Then she drove her hips home.

She was impaled instantaneously, Scott wincing as pained pleasure sparked off his cock. Belly undulating, she bobbed up and down, cunt heatedly massaging his cock. Even Scott's legendary discipline could hold no longer. He seized her, one hand in her tits, one locked on her crotch, groping her as he pushed her down upon his hot cock. She could feel him pushing in and out of her body like an adrenaline rush that kept hitting her over and over again.

"I don't want an A anymore!" she screamed. "I just want you to fuck the shit out of me every night!"

Visor burning, Scott rolled them both over, jamming a hunched over Kara down on her knees and shoulders, balling her up like she was a bitch in heat. From above, he thrust down into her, jerking her body up and down like a mad puppeteer, her breasts bouncing like rubber, her nipples a pink blur. Kara whimpered, her face buried in her bedspread.

"Yes, yes," she moaned, before feeling him reach between her legs and toggle her clit. "Oh Rao!"

Scott pumped down into her, an oil derrick, a jackhammer, venting every repressed lust down to the bowels of hell via Kara's nubile body. He didn't know how he'd lasted so long—it seemed crazy he hadn't come when her lips first touched his cock. Now he felt like he was buried a mile deep in Kara's box, her body writhing wantonly with every thrust it took, cunt milking his prick, the sound and smell of their collision filling the room.

It slowly became too much for him. He felt his cock swell up, too large for even Kara's well-fucked cunt. She responded by squeezing greedily on his engorged member, her body unwilling to give up this source of new and exotic pleasure. With no way out, he pushed ahead. His bloated cock impacted the end of her cunt like a meteor hitting.

"Scott," Kara gasped, her voice a muffled whisper into the mattress, whose creaking springs were far louder than her vocalization. Then, her innocently ecstatic face transformed, bright eyes shutting, thin lips parting, a loud whimpering "Oh!" shooting out of her as if fired through her body from the end of Scott's prick.

Then everything went black. She couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't smell. Not while she was feeling Scott gush inside her, prying her cunt open into spasmodic welcome, jets of hot sperm flowing out of her as fast as they flowed in. She was helpless in the grip of her orgasm—powerless—twisting and jerking to get away from the sudden immense sensation that seemed like it would surely destroy her. Scott pumped himself into her for the last few gushes, then let her go, the panting girl unfurling down onto her side, spent, her crotch slippery with their mingled cum. Then he collapsed beside her.

Kara pulled herself wearily to his broad chest, soft breasts cushioning her body as she slithered atop him to kiss his cheek.

"Did I pass?" she asked him.

"No, you did very poorly," he replied sarcastically. "In fact, if your performance doesn't improve, I may have to discipline you."

"Something to look forward to," Emma said as the afterglow died away to plain tiredness, the Danger Room disengaging, their psychic link growing faint. "You do have the most exotic fantasies, Scott, love."

"Because I had a thing for a cute blonde in a short skirt when I was just a young nerd growing up with his brother's comics? C'mon. It's not like I wanted you to roleplay as Starfire or anything. And her being a student was your idea."

"I couldn't resist," Emma said uncaringly.

"Just like you couldn't resist having yourself run off with Tony Stark?"

"Well, I would've given myself a heroic death in our little scenario, but in your love life, that only counts as being on break."

Scott rolled his eyes, which Emma always seemed to notice, even with his condition. "So, fair's fair—what 'little scenario' would you like to try?"

Emma's smile went diamond without the rest of her. "I'm so glad you asked, my dearest."