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"No need to thank me, citizens," she said, turning to run down the street. Thirty feet from the building, she bent, flexed, and shot up into the sky. When she passed the third floor, she turned off her flight power and went ballistic.

Her body continued on its trajectory for a bit, then arced gently until she landed on the roof above the fifth floor. A small surge of flight controlled her landing, then she was running across the rooftops.

It felt good to travel this way. There was a real feeling that she was IN the city, among the people, that wasn't there when she flew above it.

At the end of the block, she gathered herself for another jump and soared. Her flight power not only gave her boost and control of the leap, but allowed her to twist in mid-air rather acrobatically.

Another perfect landing, another run.

The sheer athletic power that surged through her was amazing. She'd always taken the super strength and stamina for granted in fights, never considered just indulging in the power until now.

At a random street corner, she loomed on a gargoyle. It stuck out far enough she could scan down all four streets for evil doers.

"Did you lose your powers in the divorce?" the gargoyle asked. She jumped straight up, reflexively, and hovered in mid air. In a second, she remembered that her new identity wasn't a flier and allowed herself to drop down to the roof of the brownstone.

The stone creature flowed up from its crouch to face her on the edge. When it stood, she realized she knew him.

"Olmec," she breathed. "I've...uh, heard of you."

The statue shook its head. A finger raised to tap a medallion embedded in the figure's chest. "Jaguar smells you, recognizes you. He knows you're a friend." Another medallion was tapped. "And Crow knows you fight for Justice."

"That's a laugh," she replied. He shook his head.

"I know you and Captain Justice divorced..." he gestured towards her new costume. "Is this temporary or...?"

"Permanent," she said. "I thought about staying on the team, as Captain and Commander. But there'd be too many questions, awkward moments, and the break up would be exactly the thing villains would pounce on. So..." She, too, gestured at the new costume.

Commander Reliability had dressed as a force for purity. Her white coveralls, with wing emblems and blue star accents, were visible from miles away in daylight.

As Avaunting Angel, she wore a black leather blouse and miniskirt, pirate boots, fishnet stockings and a domino mask.

"I figured baring my legs would draw attention away from my face."

"Oh, the cleavage alone does that," Olmec mused. "And you're not flying. Seriously, did you lose your powers?"

"Hiding them," she said, rising a foot or so off of the roof and holding her position. "If I run away and jump, they'll think I'm a new hero, not a newly-solo one."

A crash on the street drew their attention. In the intersection two men were mugging what looked like a tourist.

"Mine," Olmec said, leaping in the air to crash down on the sidewalk. Bullets bounced off of his chest as he stalked forward.

He didn't look like he needed help, so the Avaunter ran away on her own patrol.

Towards dawn, sirens in the distance drew her attention and she sped after them. Down at the docks, a warehouse collapsed in a cloud of dust.

"But not smoke," she muttered as she got closer. "Or flames. Who do I know that's good for strictly mechanical damage?"

A figure moved out of the dust. First she estimated the size-about 70 feet tall. All the giants she knew were on Monster Island, so this was someone or something new.

Then she saw the face and realized she was in error. Her former husband staggered from the destruction, knocking over a billboard. "Tim," she whispered. She ran faster.

He was naked and gigantic. His face showed great rage. And due to his nudity, she could tell that he was excited as well. His cock was gigantic. Even in proportion to his new size, she knew he'd never had a hard-on that swollen. Not in the time she'd known him.

Instantly, she thought of Doctor Satyr. He'd disabled more than one member of the Integrity Corps with his Manhood-Rage-Ray.

Chances were, he'd found a way to apply his engorgement to more than just a member's, uh, member.

As Angel watched, Tim walked up to a telephone pole and started to rub his dick against it. Poor thing, she thought. All that cock and no one to fuck.

In all the other encounters with Satyr, the frustration built upon itself, the need feeding the rage, until the affected hero used his superpowers without restraint, trying to bring about an orgasm.

The Caulk nearly killed a woman by sealing her every orifice. Green Bookworm fucked a woman at super-speed, nearly skinning her by friction. And when they found out that the source of Dead Don's powers was necromantic, it nearly broke up the Corps.

Luckily for the city, Captain Justice's powers were largely created by the mystic bands of his suit, which hadn't been magnified with his body.

But as she watched the man wrap the pole around his cock, moaning, she admitted that a man twelve times as big as normal had super powers all his own.

"Well, enough delay," she said out loud, and jumped to the next building closer. Satyr's power seemed to extend no farther than his victim's orgasm. Tim might not shrink back down if he came, but at least he'd stop ripping up the city.

He knelt on the sidewalk, aiming his cock at the subway entrance. Not a bad idea, she thought. If only we could get the glass, steel and cement pillars out of there, and put in cushions and lubricant. And pumps.

Another leap, kicking off the wall of the next building to land behind her ex. And as long as we're wishing, she thought, perhaps a shapechanger could show up who could become a six foot busty blonde with a seven foot pussy? Or six and six, she decided. Let's not be greedy.

"TIM!" she shouted.

He glanced briefly at her, but there was no recognition. He didn't pause, just crouched down to thrust himself into the stairwell. The crash of glass was followed by the rending of metal.

Tim thrust back and forth, trying to get some friction. With a wince, he pulled out and stood up. Bits of debris fell from his dick, bouncing across the pavement.

Angel dodged them easily, from long years of practice. She was concentrating on his penis. There was no blood showing, so at least some of his impervious protection persisted.

That was good news and bad. He wasn't going to hurt himself trying to fuck architecture, but then again, pain wasn't going to stop him.

As she watched, he noted something and started walking away. She ran to catch up, boosting her running speed slightly with flight power. The need to keep true to her new identity was also an ingrained habit. Never knew who could be watching.

Suddenly, Tim stopped. She whipped past him to skid to a stop on the asphalt.

Behind her, he was reaching towards a giant woman. She blinked and realized it was an advertisement. The entire side of a building was covered with a banner of the Tanning Time Girl showing her wonderful tan.

Tim reached towards her breasts, crying in shock when his hands punched through the banner and the wall behind.

His rage increased and he ripped the fabric clear of the building and tore it.

"This has to stop," she muttered. But how to get up to where she had to be? Well, how to stay in character? On the spot, she ad-libbed a new power for the Avaunting Angel, one she hadn't thought of while designing the superheroine.

She ran up his leg. With her strength and flight, she easily simulated an insect-like ability to climb a vertical surface. He didn't notice her at all.

Angel swarmed quickly up leg and hip, across his sculpted belly and chest, to stand firmly on his shoulder. He'd finished tearing the advert and stalked towards the harbor. She sort of flew herself down into his shoulder to keep her footing.

The Statue Of Freedom was ahead of them, and was just about the right size. For a moment, she amused herself with the image of her ex-husband trying to seduce a copper monument. But he'd just rip it to pieces, too.

"Timmy!" she shouted, tugging at his ear lobe. He finally noticed her and turned to look.

She opened her blouse and pointed her tits at him. "Remember these?" He groaned appreciatively. Faster than she thought possible, his hand raised and snatched her up. His thumb and forefinger wrapped around her thighs as he held her tight.

Bringing her to his face, he smiled.

"Okay," she told the smile, "it'll be okay, Tim. I promise. I'll take care-" He licked her from belly to hairline. She sputtered, wiping his saliva from her mouth and nose. The tongue came back and she just had time to clasp her hand down across her face.

He hadn't recognized her, not consciously. But his subconscious seemed to accept her as a sexual partner. As he squeezed her more tightly, she gasped, but was glad he hadn't swept up a civilian. They'd have been ripped in half by now.

His grip shifted and he lowered her. She glimpsed the distant ground and saw that he was ankle-deep in the river. Then he held her to his cock.

There was a pause, then. She glanced upwards and saw that his eyes were screwed shut. His grip eased.

"That's it, Tim!" she cheered. "Fight it! Control the rage! I'll take care of you here," she promised, slithering out of his hand to swing over to his cock.

She had always enjoyed their sex life, that wasn't part of the problems that brought about the divorce. It was a joyful cooperation whenever they joined that way.

Tonight, though, it seemed a burden. But it was a superhero burden, not a marital one, and she accepted it without a quibble.

"At least I know what he likes," she muttered, straddling the cock and squeezing her legs together.

From her position, she leaned forward, carefully pressing her boobs into the soft flesh beneath her. Hands stretched forward to run back and forth along the ridge of his glans. And her face dropped to that special, tiny spot where he was exceptionally sensitive.

The entire world seemed to shudder as she licked, stroked and squeezed. A deep moaning sounded above her, but at the same time through her. She felt his voice vibrate through her rib cage.

Her peripheral vision showed two hands hovering to either side, like he wanted something, but was afraid to touch her. Or afraid to interrupt.

Fine with me, she thought. As her hands reached as far down as they could, she pulled herself forward by her forearms. The sensitive spot passed from under her mouth to under her boobs.

Her erect nipples pushed and probed against the velvety skin, and her mouth reached the ridge where she softly licked and nibbled.

Somewhere behind her, his breath caught in a familiar sound.

Slowly and carefully, she worked her way around to the left, moving her entire body to the underside of his cock, stroking and licking all the way.

At the point where the only things on the top of his cock were her feet, he reached in and removed her boots. She continued on, returning to her perch on the top.

It was no surprise to her when he reached down to peel her miniskirt and hose off, too. She held tight with her arms as her legs were stretched quickly straight. Now, naked but for the mask, she smiled up at her ex. He smiled back. The rage was under control, for now.

She still felt the need to help his release, though.

Angel spun around like a gymnast on the bars, facing back towards his body. Then she scooted her pussy backwards along his cock to the end. She ground it against the ridge, and noted that he nearly lost his balance to the sensation.

Good.

Then she pushed farther back, running her crotch across the big purple helmet to ride it like a saddle. Legs squeezing to the side, she stroked her pussy and pubic hairs down and across the tip.

He couldn't stand it any longer and grabbed her again. He pressed her against the underside and shoved her back and forth. Her face touched the very end of his manhood time after time. She tried to lick, nibble or bite him each time. It seemed to work, he got faster and faster, and finally came.

The bolus of fluid shot out, breaking on her chin like a wave on a prow. It splashed over her face and hair, spreading like a sticky rain over the waters below.

She grabbed his cock, a grip within a grip, and writhed against it, extending his orgasm as long as possible, and milking every drop of come out of him.

And it was over. She already felt him shrinking as he softened. The grip eased, the fingers slid slowly down her back. The come covering her shrank away, as well, easing away from sight.

He lowered her to a wharf beside his feet, then stepped next to her when he was small enough that it wouldn't damage the structure.

And there they stood, naked and sweaty, holding each other's hands.

"Hi," they both said. Neither knew which spoke first. Then his little eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed.

*******

"They taking care of you?" she asked, three days later. He glanced around the hospital room and shrugged.

"I guess. Hey, thanks again for stopping me before I really hurt anyone."

"No biggie," she said. "Okay, well, _A_ biggie. The biggest ever."

They laughed softly together. "I'm sorry," he said.

"About what?"

"Your Avaunting Angel identity," he answered, pointing to the newspaper in the guest chair.

"Oh, they figured it out?" She waved the concern away. "Yeah, my first night on patrol I use your first name, have wild sex with you, and apparently know what you like to have done to you. I figured they'd see through it, figure out who I really was."

"Ah..." he said, hesitantly. "Not quite." She grabbed the paper and read.

'A new superheroine was seen in town this week. One that seems to know Captain Justice well. Real well. Frightningly well, even. Maybe she isn't all that new? Could this adulterous bitch be the reason this city's favorite superhero team split up? We certainly owe her thanks for stopping the rampage, but can we really trust her with our city's physical and moral safety?'

"Adulterous bitch?" she whispered. "They think you cheated on the third strongest person in the city and I only divorced you?"

"Well, at least your identity is safe," Tim offered. She glared him into silence.





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