Joining the League: Interlude

By Benji Bright

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If an aquakinetic takes you into the shower, you can expect either a good time or a closed casket funeral. So you'll forgive me if I was a little apprehensive about Devon's intentions when he took me down into the SLA's fitness complex — a lavish gym with myriad rooms for those of us with more unorthodox fitness needs — and straight back into the showers. He commandeered one of the spacious stalls and let me go in first. He followed me in and closed the door behind us.

The stall was big enough for us to stand comfortably about two or three feet apart and had a shower head on either side. The tiles were obsidian black and smooth under our feet.

Devon's expression was pleasant, maybe even a little distracted. He wiggled his bound arm.

"I've gotta keep my burns dry, but don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"Yeah, ok," I replied.

So we just stood there for a moment, both dressed in our hospital issued shorts and tank-tops in the cavernous shower.

"Before we start, I just want to say...this is tension relief, for me. I don't want to get anything confused. You ok with that?"

I nodded. I didn't really trust myself to say much more. Devon is the kind of guy you dream about "relieving tension" with and he'd approached me. I hadn't even pushed him.

Even if it was a one-off, I couldn't imagine not letting myself experience  him at least once.

Devon started to undress and I did the same. It was a little awkward with my shoulder being wrapped up and pretty much his whole upper body, but we managed it. We hung our clothes on hooks spaced a considerable distance away from the shower heads. Then he stood before me, naked and glorious, like a gladiator without his weapons. Every part of his body was finely honed and his blond hair fell about his shoulders casually. His dick swung between his legs, already impressive at half-hardness.

I was not the prize that he was, but my self-esteem had jumped a bit since joining the SLA. The extensive training regimen that I had been on had whittled me down to the best shape I'd ever been in. I ran a hand through my short hair and smiled.

"Nice," I said. "Very nice."

Devon laughed at that and joked in reply. "You too, Nick. I mean, you're no me, but you'll do."

He asked me to turn on the shower spray on my side and he turned his on the other side.  As the water came down I noticed a few things simultaneously, first that the water was flowing away from Devon — no surprise there — but it was also pooling together at the bottom of the shower. Every drop of water that came from his shower head or mine, even the rivulets passing down over my naked body were dripping down into the collected water that was gaining volume by the moment.

I guess I must have had the question in my eyes or some alarm because Devon just smiled and put out a hand in a gesture that said: wait. It took a few minutes and some serious concentration on Devon's part, but eventually the water started to take shape. I stepped away instinctively.

Even a few months into the world of superheroes there were still many, many things with the ability to shock me. I can say with some certainty that I never expected to see anything like that in my life. Standing before me was a clear copy of Devon made entirely of water. Through his watery clone I could see his distorted face grinning.

"What good is all this power if you can't have fun with it?" Devon asked.

The copy was amazingly detailed, every muscle identical, even the wavy, watery hair was exact. And it was hard. A hard dick made of water.

I reached out and touched the clone's shoulder and surprisingly it was warm under my touch, not as warm as a person, but it held more heat than I would expect that much water could retain. Devon explained that he could alter the kinetic force of the water molecules to keep the thing warm and I marveled at the weirdness of it all.

The clone reached up and stroked my face. Its fingers had the texture of actual fingers. It leaned forward, and despite my initial hesitation I let it kiss me. Its mouth was warm and tasteless, but its tongue was dexterous in an impossible way. It licked and twisted around mine as our lips met. It was arousing, both because of and despite the novelty of it. I predictably sprouted quite a hardon. Devon whistled at me and walked over from the other side of the shower. I turned my head to him as he slipped behind me, but the clone took my head gently and turned me back to him (it?).

I kept kissing the clone who found new and inventive ways to play with me. He also reached down and wrapped a hand around my cock. His hand instantly warped into an amorphous mass of water around my dick that was as warm, tight and slick as any ass I had ever fucked.

Devon whispered into my ear from behind me, "are you excited yet?"

I moaned in reply as the mass shifted around my cock and Devon simultaneously slipped a lubricated finger inside me. I exhaled and sent bubbles streaming through the clone's face. The bubbles trailed through his face and effervesced up through the top of his head.

Devon's finger was deft and purposeful. They stimulated and primed me for what was next.

"Can I fuck you?" he asked.

There was a tenderness in his voice. A reverence. It had been a long time since I had last bottomed, probably since before I'd even started to fully develop my powers. Still, I couldn't imagine myself saying no.

"Do you have a condom?"

"Already handled it. You think a guy who can manipulate fluids wouldn't be able to throw together some protection?" He rubbed his water-sheathed cock up and down my ass crack.

I nodded and he kissed the back of my neck softly as he positioned himself up against me. He began pushing into me then stopped suddenly.

"Wrap your legs around my Other."

"What?"

"My Other...the clone, wrap your legs around him. He's a sturdy, fellow. He'll support your weight, don't worry."

I did as Devon asked and wrapped my legs around the clone and he bent backward unnaturally without moving his mouth from mine or disturbing the churning, fluids around my cock. The position, though incredibly awkward, gave Devon the perfect angle of approach. His dick started inside me and I let loose another exhalation that resulted in a head full of bubbles for his Other. Between the feeling of Devon pushing into me and the rinse cycle around my dick, things were starting to get a little intense.

"Relax," he said, as he got his full length in me.

I'm not sure if I ever fully relaxed, but I settled into it just fine. Devon's thrusts were deep and...artful. His hips were all leisurely motion and my ass was well satisfied. I was sure that nothing would ever match the intensity of that moment: suspended in the shower, being pleasured on one end by a watery apparition and on the other by a rigid, sexy guy plucked straight out of my fantasies.

As Devon's fucking got deeper and harder, something started happening. He hit my prostate, I think. Well, no, I know that he did and he hit it a bunch of time. Maybe not so much hit even as rammed. As he did I could feel this pressure building in me. A valve growing tighter and tighter. Devon labored over me, told me how tight my hole was, how hot, how insane I was driving him. For my part I only begged him not to stop.

Everything felt so good that the tightness in me, the pressure was only a minor distraction at first. His thick cock was sliding into me so furiously and so easily that for a while that was all I could focus on. But eventually the pressure grew so great that holding it back, trying to keep it from spilling over was taking my full concentration. I thought that if I let go, I would cum. Turns out I was way fucking wrong.

It only took one particular thrust from a particular angle and the resulting pleasure broke the floodgate. I inadvertently pushed a burst of pheromones so ferocious that it felt like an explosion inside of me. Devon, at ground zero of the blast, instantly and uncontrollably orgasmed. His focus slipped and the mass of water around my dick started churning so hard that it was almost painful.

Almost.

The force of all that water and texture wringing my cock caused me to spill my own load. Even though I feared, for an instant, that the Other would buckle, it held me through my shuddering, powerful orgasm.

As I started to come down, I began to noticing noises from all around, from other shower stalls and even further out into the locker room. It took me a second to realize that I had accidentally pushed the entire gym. The sounds I was hearing were people crippled by their own sudden sexual desire. I could sense their mass arousal like a haze over the place.

Devon pulled out of me and helped me down onto my own two wobbly legs. I could see from his face that he had some idea about what had transpired. We quickly got dressed. Devon dismissed his Other unceremoniously into the drain and we went out to investigate what I'd done.

All over the shower area and the locker room beyond there were men in various states of pleasure. Some of them were just standing around, dazed and erect. One young guy just sat staring as his huge dick. It was drooling a steady stream of precum between his legs and onto the floor. There were a number of guys engaged in blowjobs and handjobs, a few were fucking, but the vast majority of the men were just touching themselves in awe, confusion, and genuine horniness.

Over the course of the next few hours we found out that the fitness center had been the worst hit with my pheromone blast. The rest of the SLA facility was plagued with little more than inappropriate erections and untoward mid-day fantasies. A few of the league's clean up crews were dispatched to "sanitized" the gym and Devon and I had to fill out rather embarrassingly detailed reports on the “activities” that lead to the incident.

The league agent who took my statement winked at me once we were all finished and told me that he had been in the showers when the blast hit. He had had a more intense sexual experience in that shower than he'd had in the whole of his ten year marriage. There were others though, who viewed it as an invasion tantamount to sexual assault and I understood their concerns. Those accusations brought the feelings of guilt and shame I'd associated with my powers for so long rushing back to the surface.

I knew I'd have to be more careful from then on. I made myself think of my power as a tool of potential violation as well as an instrument of tremendous influence. I could hear Europa's advice to me on the first day we met ringing in my head — that I should improve quickly and not allow myself to be the weak link in the team. At that moment I wanted, maybe more than ever before, to be rid of my power and its control over the course of my life.