THE NEW SUPERMEN -- Bizarro: pt3

By absman420
published November 2, 2019
Summary

Zelinski suspects there might be more going on with McGrath than simple role play…

“As you can see from the satellite photos, Mr. Luthor, the clone has made contact with one of the New Supermen – intel identifies him as Sheriff’s Deputy Frank McGrath from Oklahoma, recently divorced, conservative, graduated cum laude from OU. He put up a struggle, but fell victim to the Bizarro Virus within minutes – note the significant swelling of the testicles, indicative of infection. Whether the infected Supermen become carriers themselves or just victims remains to be seen. The two were last seen flying west – trajectory has them aimed at San Francisco. We assume they’re targeting the New Superman of that city, one Matthew Zelinski, proudly gay, liberal, engages in regular sex with multiple partners within the Supermen ranks – one could accurately call him the ‘company slut’ if one had that sort of sense of humor. If they manage to infect him, we might have a significant outbreak on our hands.”

Luthor sat back in his chair, looking up from the photos. “And isn’t that the point?” he asked bitterly. “Isn’t that why I’ve spent millions of dollars on this project? I can’t seem to kill them – the very least I can do is turn them into the hyper-sexual idiots I think they are.”

“Yes, sir. However, as you can see, the original clone is breaking down. The dust that covers McGrath is evidence of the cellular degeneration of the clone’s Kryptonian DNA. Our scientists suspected something like this would happen – as noted, there has been little success in cloning Superman in the past.”

Luthor sighed, tenting his fingers. “How long do we have?” he asked.

“That’s a good question, Sir. Right now, we estimate between 48 and 72 hours before complete cellular breakdown. There are… variables…”

“I just want them all fucking dead,” Luthor said with quiet intensity. “Why is that so hard?”

“Sir, this is our most successful attempt so far – it’s only a matter of time before…”

Luthor held up his flat palm, signalling an end to the conversation.

“Keep me updated,” he said, dismissively.

Dr. Teng sighed – he knew when he’d lost. “Yes, Sir,” he said, and left Luthor’s office.

Luthor stared out the window at the setting sun. “I just want them all fucking dead,” he mumbled.


After his shower, Zelinski allowed himself to air-dry before putting on a scanty little white silk thong and snapping selfies for his IG faithful. Though the smallest of the New Supermen – both in height and muscle-size – he had the best ass by far! (At least, that’s what everybody said – and what his selfies confirmed.)

There was no slut-shaming Zelinski – not even at all. He’d gotten over that a long time ago. He enjoyed sex – he enjoyed sex a LOT – and he was extremely good at it. Some men had hobbies – some men spent a lot of time at the gym – Zelinski had sex.

And now – thanks to being a New Superman – there was no disease he could catch, nothing communicable to stop him from playing raw. It was fucking bliss. Literally.

He’d set himself up early as the go-to Superman for no-strings sexual relief, once they’d realized they couldn’t have sex with normal people anymore. He had no problem with the concept of fuck-buddies and sex-for-the-sake-of-sex – emotional baggage was for women and selfish bottoms – Zelinski didn’t the mistake of mixing sex with romance. (If he hadn’t been such a good cop, he figured he’d make a great gigolo.) Of the fifty or so New Supermen, he’d fucked with over thirty.

Of course, he hadn’t been expecting McGrath to come along and emotionally sweep him off his feet. “Damn straight boys,” he thought. “Making me develop feelings and shit.” He LIKED McGrath – liked his personality, his dry sense of humor, the brainy interior wrapped in the rough Oklahoma cowboy – and he knew McGrath liked him, but just couldn’t break through the sexual-labels barrier that seemed to divide them.

It was frustrating, though tolerable for the moment – who knew how long that would last?

Why couldn’t McGrath just swoop in, take Zelinski in his arms and kiss him like a God damn MAN?

Damn straight boys.

Okay, who could he fuck to take his mind off McGrath? He picked up his phone and opened the New Superman App. Scrolling through the profiles, he saw McGrath’s buddy Tucker McGee online. The Houston-Superman, Tucker was another cowboy-superhero – he was also in a relationship with Zelinski’s friend Max Malone, but Zelinski thought they were open about play. (If he was online on this app, he was looking to play, regardless of his relationship status.)

Tucker was a whole different kind of hunk from McGrath, similar Stetsons or not. Tucker was all-beef, thick waisted (if he weren’t a New Superman, one would say “roid gut”), big, round muscles and curved, sloping lines. Where McGrath was a force on the football field, Tucker was an obstacle. Strong and single-minded, Tucker was slow to anger but quick to action, painfully loyal to his friends.

Although his cock wasn’t as big as McGrath’s, Tucker wouldn’t tucker out for hours – and also unlike McGrath, Tucker would kiss. And kiss great! (Zelinski figured the biggest reason Tucker and Max were together was because they both liked to kiss so much.)

And frankly, Zelinski could use a little lip-love right now.

He texted the big Texan through the app. “Hey, Tuck – feel like a fuck?”

It wasn’t even a minute before he heard back. “Little Z! What’s up, my friend?”

“My ass is up – in the air! Could use some of that Texas tea…”

“Sounds like someone’s horny.”

“Help a bud out?”

A slight pause.

“I go off-patrol at 22:00 my time – 8pm Pacific, right? – I’d be happy to swing by. I could use some wild fuck.”

“Beautiful! See you then! I’ll be in the Super-Sling!” He sent Tucker a pic of his ass in the white thong, as well.

A beat before the response. “Don’t get me all hard while I’m on patrol. You suck!”

“See you soon.”

With a smirk, he tossed the phone down on his dresser. As it hit, he heard the “thump!” of someone landing on the balcony. It couldn’t be Tucker already, could it? He had at least an hour and a half before he could expect Tucker… unless the fucker had sped counter-clockwise around the earth and turned back time!

Chuckling to himself, he flew up to the top of the stairs, where he could see the balcony door. Standing there silhouetted in the slanted rays of the setting sun was McGrath, shirtless, the sparkle of his S-shield reflecting the light.

Was he covered in some kind of powder?

McGrath reached up and fumbled the door, accidentally breaking it off the track and shattering the glass. “OOPS!” he said, giggling.

“What’s up, cowboy?” Zelinski asked, from the bedroom door, keeping his distance. “Don’t know your own strength?”

“ME AM HORNY,” McGrath said in some kind of odd, brainless voice.

What was going on? Was this some kind of weird roleplay?

“Who are you pretending to be?” Zelinski asked, adjusting his dick in his little white thong. “Doing some kind of Bizarro thing?”

“ME AM NOT BIZARRO,” McGrath laughed, stepping into the room. He walked clumsily toward Zelinski and took him into his arms. “ME AM SUPER HORNY,” he said, and kissed Zelinsky full on the mouth.

So much went through Zelinski’s mind so quickly he barely had time to process it all: where had this kiss come from? Since when did McGrath kiss? Was this roleplay enacted so McGrath could emotionally allow it of himself? Was there powder all over him? What was that weird taste?

As soon as he thought that, he got hit with a wave of drug-induced euphoria that he hadn’t felt since his days doing “tina,” a rush of sexuality and need and a cocaine-like level of horniness that didn’t seem to abate. He loved it! Zelinski began licking McGrath’s face – more, he suddenly thought. More!

He became aware of his erection when he pressed it against McGrath’s own rock hard cock – he loved it! Whatever was going on, it was hot as hell. Better than drugs.

McGrath giggled through their kiss. “SLUTTY SUPERMAN,” he said, continuing with this Bizarro-thing. Zelinski didn’t care – whatever. He was so horny.

Slutty.

And then, McGrath did something REALLY out of character – he slid down to his knees, wiping a long streak of powder onto Zelinski’s rock-hard abs, then he greedily took Zelinski’s cock in his mouth.

Zelinski gasped, reaching down and grabbing McGrath’s dusty hair, one hand pushing McGrath’s mouth down onto his cock, the other snorting and licking the powder he got off McGrath’s body.

He was flying – not literally. He was just so turned on… so horny…

McGrath’s sloppy mouth on his cock and his muffled giggles.

Roleplay. Whatever.

Zelinski could play along.

“Yeah,” he moaned. “Suck me, Bizarro…”

McGrath barked out a laugh, nearly spitting out Zelinski’s cock. “ME NO AM BIZARRO,” he laughed.

And then suddenly, there was someone behind Zelinski – someone tall and heavy. Thick, muscular arms wrapped around him – Zelinski could feel a hard cock pressing against his ass. The big arms that hugged him were covered in that same white powder. Zelinski began wiping himself against the creature’s muscle, licking and snorting. “HIM NO AM BIZARRO,” the voice behind Zelinski said. “ME AM.”

And with that, the guy shoved his cock into Zelinski’s (very) ready ass.

Ecstasy. Booty-bump ecstasy.

Though neither of the brutes were particularly skilled, the high of the powder kept Zelinski from being critical. On his own, he could create a rhythm between the inexperienced cock and the sloppy mouth – he knew how to control a couple of dumb tops – so it didn’t much matter.

It was so good! His every fantasy centered around McGrath kissing him, taking his cock. And now, there he was, kneeling before Zelinski, his hulking shoulders and bobbing head – he was gripping the base of Zelinski’s balls in his very familiar grip – he wasn’t a straight boy anymore.

And then, like a teenager unused to having sex, the brute behind him was ready to cum. “ME SHOOT!” he announced, then slammed his cock deep into Zelinski’s ass.

Before Zelinski could ask, “Already?” he was flooded by the guy’s load – so much cum, it began leaking down his inner-thighs – more kept coming, but came nowhere close to abatement. “Bizarro” must have some big balls, Zelinski thought in his ecstatic high. He found that funny and almost laughed.

Stupid thought.

And then something – no, he was too high – it felt… It felt like his own balls were growing!

McGrath made a pleased sound. “BRAINS…” he mumbled, stroking Zelinski’s sensitive balls, and renewed his sucking with a growing passion.

“Bizarro” stayed inside him, still hard, and renewed his thrusting. “BRAINS,” he repeated, giggling. “GIVE HIM BRAINS!”

“Those are my balls,” said Zelinski. So… close…

“BRAINS IN BALLS NOW,” the guy laughed.

McGrath pulled them hard, stretching the balls away from Zelinski’s body – they were nearly the size of oranges – and that action was what made Zelinsky fall over the edge and cum.

And cum.

And cum.

He quickly flooded McGrath’s mouth, rivulets of cum dripping down and creating paths in the powder on McGrath’s neck and massive pecs. He looked ridiculously sexy and oh, so stupid…

When McGrath made eye-contact, a dumb-fuck grin on his face and his cum lipstick, Zelinski started to giggle.

“NOW YOU SEE,” the creature fucking him said.

Zelinski pointed to McGrath. “YOU LOOK STUPID!” he said, breaking into peals of laughter.

“HA!” McGrath said, standing. “ME SWALLOW YOU BRAINS – ME SMART NOW!”

With that, he kissed Zelinski deeply, passing a mixture of cum and liquid powder back and forth between them.

“YOU… AM… SMART!” Zelinski said when the kiss broke. “NOT!”

How the three of them laughed.

And then continued their desperate, clumsy fucking until they (and the whole playroom) were coated in the powder coming off Bizarro, like three children who’d gotten into Mommy’s beauty supplies. They lay there in a triangle, licking each other’s swollen balls, worshipping the size and taste. Bizarro Balls. Brains.

“WE NEED MORE SUPERMEN,” Bizarro said, assessing the situation. “MORE SUPERMEN AM WAY MORE FUN.”

McGrath teased. “HIM FUCK SUPERMEN!” he said, pointing to Zelinski. “HIM FUCK LOTS SUPERMEN!”

Zelinski laughed. “ME WANT FUCK THEM ALL.”

Bizarro gasped excitedly, like he’d made a common discovery, the kind that forms friendships. “ME TOO!” he said, and they high-fived.

Not to be left out, McGrath said, “ME TOO TOO!” (He laughed to himself – he was so smart since he’d swallowed Zelinski’s brains.)

“SUPERMEN COME,” Zelinski explained. “SUPERMEN COME SOON. COWBOY SUPERMEN. AM YOU PAL…” he said, kissing McGrath and licking more powder from him.

“TUCKER FUCKER!” McGrath said, delighted by his rhyme. (So smart…)

Zelinski laughed along with him. “YES! TUCKER FUCKER! YOU AM SO SMART!”

“ME WANT TUCKER FUCKER. ME ALWAYS WANTED TUCKER FUCKER.”

“TUCKER FUCKER AM SOON! HOT COWBOY FUCK!”

Bizarro interrupted. “HOW WE GET HOT COWBOY FUCK?”

“ME KNOW! ME KNOW!” McGrath said, hand in the air, dancing excitedly. He was so fucking smart now. “ME GOT PLAN!”

“YOU PLAN AM STUPID!”

“SURE AM! BIG STUPID PLAN! YOU SEE! WE GET TUCKER FUCKER GOOD. LISTEN, STUPID SUPERMEN…”

They moved to their places before they forgot and lay in wait, jerking themselves in anticipation.

They were so smart.

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