Superhero Chapter 1
Chapter 1
"Look up in the sky!" Tristan states.
Tristan is my little brother. He's about 7 at this point. He's the cutest kid and you think he's all innocent when you look at him the wrong way. Don't let it fool you. His teacher sent him on school assignment. It was pretty simple: Go on a "symmetry hunt" at home and have your child find symmetrical shapes on the carpet, bed sheets, bathroom tiles, or other places. Look for and analyze 3-D shapes, such as marbles and oranges (spheres), soup cans and jelly jars (cylinders), and building blocks and cardboard boxes (cubes). You can even have her draw 2-D shapes (a circle) on a piece of paper then match it to a corresponding 3-D shape (a sphere). The little brat took a picture grabbing his baby sitter's tits and breaking them to school as a prime example of 3-D spheres.
He was so cute he got away with it.
I've never been more proud.
"Is it a plane Tristan?" Tristan's mother Ms. Mary states.
Ms. Mary wasn't my mother. She's honestly almost the same age as me. It kind of irritated me that after my mother died, dad got with a girl who was so much goddam younger. I'm 20 so Mary has to be bout 27...at the most. She acts older though. She's one of those weird girls who mentally aged like avocados.
"It's the Host of Heroes!" Tristan states.
His finger points up. Sure enough there is a stream of light in the sky. The host of Heroes was going by. It looked like there were a good three of them this time. The only one I recognize was him White Frost. They were flying close by. I wondered where they were going: to foil some mad scientists plan to take over the world or stop the explosion of an atomic bomb. I wasn't sure. They looked like they were trying to get there fast though. They were headed in the same direction as we were. You can see his white cape buckling around him even from here as streams of his psionic ice crystals light up the sky.
I can see little Tristan's eyes light up.
In my city of Metropolis, superheroes showed up from time to time. See I live in a time where we have these groups of people called metahumans. It started way before I was born when my parent's generation when certain individuals who were awake in the middle of the night looked up at the night sky, noticed something weird, to wake up the next morning and realize they had superpowers. Those individuals had received the Gift. That's literally what it's called. The Gift. No one knows how it got that name or how the gift came to be but I always liked to imagine God literally wrapping up a gift to mankind and just saying here, "now entertain me more."
Tristan is too young to really get it but when Dad rolls up the glass I know he's mad.
"What did I tell you about these fuckin' superheroes Tristan?" Dad asks.
Tristan looks down.
"Tristan, dad asked you a question," I state, elbowing my little brother.
"They aren't anything else but cowards...in capes," Tristan repeats for the millionth time, "Using their superpowers to hold the next man down."
"Good. That's the last time I want to hear you getting all excited about seeing one of those flying cockroaches," Dad states at that moment, "You're in timeout when we get to your brother's track meet."
Tristan's big little eyes get upset. I know why. He likes to follow me around in the track meet. He even has his grasshopper shirt on. The guys on the team don't mind him walking out onto the field. They even run their fingers through his curly hair for luck. Tristan's been doing it so long the guys on the team think he's their good luck charm. He loves being the little team mascot. I rub his hair knowing he's going to be upset. It's really curly today. Tristan is a lot darker than me. That's because Dad is black and so is Ms. Mary. Dad is lighter than Ms. Mary who is beautiful dark brown color. My mother was white. For some reason, I don't even look 10 percent black. When I tell strangers that I'm mixed they usually laugh at me. I don't mind. My pale white skin, freckles, and jet black hair definitely stand out in the urban backdrop of Metropolis.
We are pulling up to the school. I don't think anything much about what happened in the car. I think this is just a normal day. I should have known today was going to be weird when Ms. Mary speaks out.
"He's just a kid," she states.
She almost whispers it. I want to tell her, 'Mary...homegirl, you don't want those problems. I know you're young and stuff. I know you married my dad thinking the dominating personality was cute but you've been around long enough to know what's coming. Just drop it. I'm trying to save you, Mary'. But none of that comes out because Dad stops the car. He stops the car right in the middle of the goddam street, blocking traffic.
"What the fuck did you just say?" Dad asks Mary.
I bite my lip. She looks around the car. She looks over at me. I avert my gaze. 'Nope, can't help you now girl. You shouldn't have opened your mouth. You're on your own.'
"He's just a kid. It's still amazing to see people flying across the sky, Ed. All his friends find it amazing at that age."
"How many fuckin times do I have to tell you---" my father starts off, "That shit will NOT be discussed in my house. I don't give a shit about what they do or who they are. You understand me? I will not raise Tristan and Camron to be some soft idolizers of these tight wearing, ball hugging, pussies running around in tights calling themselves SUPERHEROES!"
My dad keeps going. I'd grown up with it all my life. When I was 6 one of the neighbors came over my house for Halloween dressed up as Sunbeam. Sunbeam was one of the most popular superheroes and the leader of the Host of Heroes for as long as I can remember. My dad ripped the kid's clothes off of him and sent him home in nothing but underwear. Sure, the kid's dad came with a bone to pick and the beating that Dad gave that guy was something that I would never forget in my life. I learned my lesson back then not to bring up Superheroes with Dad. Dad hated the near mention of a superhero. He goes off. Mary should know that by now. My dad had a strict way of doing things. Everything had a specific order and he raised hell if it wasn't done in that specific order. On top of that list was no-ass-kissing superheroes.
He's still going off when we get to the indoor track stadium. The track event was big. It was the biggest in the year. It was great that I had qualified but I had to admit I was nervous.
"Can you believe her?" Dad asks.
I was pretty sure Mary was still in the car crying right now.
"No, Dad. I don't know what she was thinking."
I literally didn't. I knew Dad wouldn't let it go. No way in hell. He had a bone to pick with superheroes and he would be screaming at her more when we got home. I think the only reason he didn't go full crazy was that he didn't want me to get too upset before the track meet.
"You nervous?"
"No."
"You better not be," he tells me giving me a skeptical eye, "I didn't cultivate and drill you as hard as I did to be nervous. You're here to win. You understand? I hope that little skirmish didn't get to you in the car. I need you focused."
"I'm in the zone," I respond.
"You see that kid over there."
I look over the guy that my dad is pointing to. He's walking with a few members of his team and what looks like his parents close by. I notice my dad staring at the kid. The guy was attractive. That wasn't really giving him justice. He had sandy skin but his eyes were this beautiful sky blue color that didn't seem to match his tan skin tone. His nose was long and masculine. His body was something straight out of my fantasies. His chest was large and was putting the material that his spandex was made of to work. His big thick nipples show through his material.
And then he turns and I see his ass through his spandex, fat, firm and eating up his shorts.
"I'm not saying to look at his ass," my dad interrupts my fantasy.
My dad found out I was gay officially about two years ago. He found me choking on Dez Cooper's 8-inch dick in ther shower when I should have been in school. I still remember how embarrassed I was when Dez Cooper came all over my face.
His excuse was that my dad was kind of sexy to him. When I came out to my dad immediately after he shrugged and stated, "I figured that much. I raise winners, even if they are gay winners." It was one of those rare moments that I realized my dad really wasn't so bad. Of course, he didn't want me dating. He said it would take away from my career as if running track was the most lucrative thing in the world. I knew what my dad wanted though. He had his eyes set past college. He wanted me running professionally. He wanted me to win the gold in the Olympics. He wanted me to be the best in the world.
That was the kind of Dad I had.
"Sorry. He's just..." I clear my throat hoping I don't get turned on, "He looks familiar."
"Because he just signed a Nike Deal," my father states, "His relay team is undefeated. And I'm going to need you to beat him."
"You make it sound like it's personal."
"It is. If you ever had to do anything for me I need you to beat Aaron Kanzari Jr," my father responds.
Aaron Kanzari Jr. I recognized the name almost immediately. Sure enough, he was the Tunisian star that I had seen on tv. We never competed but I heard about him. He was a pro. He was the MAN. Guys on my team watched his videos trying to be better. Dad always used to force me to watch videos of myself. He says that the only way to get better is to exceed your own expectations. I look over at the kid. Our eyes connect at that moment. I wonder if he can feel the energy my Dad and I are giving off to him. I think I imagine it when he shivers at our cold stares.
Dad had never been so focused on beating one person.
I look at the guy. He was handsome, real handsome, but I was going to have to embarrass him. I was going to have to utterly destroy him on that relay track.
~
I keep thinking about Aaron Kanzari Jr. I mean, besides the fact that he had a nice ass and his dick looked like he had a fist down tights. I was thinking more about how much my dad wanted me to beat him. I'm thinking about how big of a deal this is for my dad. I couldn't let him down.
I get over to the team and see a few of the guys arguing.
"Fem Fatale would abuse Captain Radiance."
"I wish Fem Fatale would abuse me, in that sexy suit of hers."
"She's old enough to be your mother."
"Nothing wrong with a super-MILF."
"I heard she hates when people call her that. That'll make her put on her old costume. You know the costume she fought when
she fought Vicious Vigor."
"You're not supposed to say that name."
Vicious Vigor was the name that kids nowadays had nightmares about. No one knew a face to the name. Everyone knew the story though. Every year we celebrated the Peace. It's an anniversary for the date that Vicious Vigor's reign of terror came to an end. The day that he died. Sunbeam, Materias and all the other superheros came to together to stop him. We lost the superhero Materias that day too. There is a statue to commemorate the fallen hero Downtown. People bring flowers to the statue. Since The Peace started there haven't really been any real villains. Not like Vicious Vigor. Not the kind of villains that threatened everyone's lives and safety. Not the type of villains that destroyed everything.
I notice all the talk about superheroes. One of the guys on my team notices me walking over.
"Camron, did you see the Host of Heroes flying by?"
A part of me wants to join in and argue with them about how White Frost trumps all the other superheroes. We were all a bunch of nerds when it came to that but my Dad was in the building and I wasn't even going to risk it even if he was nowhere close.
"Nah."
I get quiet and let the other guys talk about it. They get real wide-eyed like kids talking about it. The scary thing is that I do too. I could imagine being like White Frost flying across the sky with those perfect eyes and that perfect body. That was a dream for most people. People like the guys on my track team who trained their bodies hoping they could be even a quarter as perfect as one of the heroes in the Host.
I was one of those people.
I was a fucking fan of the heroes.
I couldn't be though. Not in front of my dad at least. Not so long as my name was Camron Bennett. So I sit in the grass waiting for the coach who is about to do his normal little pep talk before the events begin. I ignore all the talk about Fem Fatale, Night Stalker, Miss Comet, Blue Bizarre, Scanman, Silver Claw, Kid Lightning or even ignore them when they mention my favorite...who I jerked off to damn near every night in White Frost, even though I want to join in so bad.
"You ever realize grasshoppers and locusts are the same things? Mention grasshoppers and many people recall pleasant childhood memories trying to catch them in the backyard. Then say the word locusts. What do you think of?"
Coach McGee literally has a fucking grasshopper. The summertime heat blazes up the track field in Metropolis. The turf is literally scorching and I am getting sunburnt by the moment. McGee is pretty new. My dad got the last coach fired after complaining I wasn't being motivated enough. Even now I can see my dad on the sidelines. He is giving me the eye. It's telling me I better pay attention to this coach. Little does my dad know the fuckin' new coach is talking about grasshoppers and shit like that.
"Pharaoh, let my people go," Dez Cooper dramatizes.
"Plagues. Dumbass. The answer to my question was you think of ancient plagues," he tells us, "You think of ancient pests descending on fields eating everything in sight. It's powerful."
Dez grunts whispering, "It's a fuckin' grasshopper."
"I heard that dumbass!" the coach interrupts him, "It's a grasshoper but it's also a goddam Locust and people fear the word Locust. That's why the Locust is our mascot. I want that to all be stuck in your heads when you run today. Got it? Camron! Camron, you listening here?"
I was zoning out. Somewhere down the line some idiot made our mascot a grasshoper and till this day the school is trying to find a way to justify it. It's hard to concentrate on the Coach when Dez Cooper wasn't wearing a goddam jockstrap. His dick always gets damn near full throttle hard right before a race. He notices I'm looking. He licks his lips and gives his package a hard tight squeeze with his hand outlining his meat for me. It's like the goddam thing is saluting me, telling me to stand at attention or something.
"I got it. Grasshoppers, Locusts, whatever. Green bugs pride. Got it. Carry on."
"Good," McGee states, probably hoping to convince himself that he's somehow managed to lift our spirits before the relay, " Let's get to the races started."
Track was my life. Some people ran track to go to college. I went to college to run track. All of my Penn relays were last year, when I wasn't even supposed to make either the 4x100mr or the 4x400mr. I was a Decathlete but I was also on both of our sprint relays. So I went to all of the meets. You get to know your competition when you see them every weekend. Road trips are super fun (free food, nice hotels, visiting other campuses). Don't get it twisted, the work you have to put in is grueling. My days, went like this: 20 min bike ride to campus(I lived off campus) right after a 6am specialty practice for decathlon, breakfast, classes, lunch, classes, practice, dinner, 20min bike ride home. When I got back home is when my father got involved.
Three extra trainings on top of what I had before.
My night ended up at 11. I'd wake up in the morning and do it all over again. Let's just say my dad was a perfectionist.
"Dez you're killing me here man. This is not 1997 and you are not Jennifer Lopez so would you please put that anaconda away for once?" I whisper over to Dez Cooper when we break.
"What this thing?" he asks, grabbing his fill hard wood hardon through his spandex, "It has a mind of its own. I swear. Gets like this before every race. Must be the adrenaline."
"Well, we need to focus for the relay."
Dez gives me a smile, "I mean you can always help me out...you know. Like you did last time."
I clear my throat hard making sure no one heard him. There are a couple of other guys around. Ray Bailey and Andrew Lockfield were the other two on our relay team.
I smile, "Maybe after. When we celebrate our win."
Dez bites his lip, "Oh I'm running top speed then."
Dez keeps his promise to me during the first two qualifying 4X100 races. As a team, we blow the competition away. The only problem is that we aren't the only team doing well in the qualifiers. I pay close attention to one person. Aaron Kanzari Jr. His team isn't just towards the top. They are the top. My stomach turns as I sit in the grass waiting for the final event of the track meet.
Traditionally, the 4x400 meter relay finals are the last event of a track meet.
"You ready?" Coach asks me.
I was born ready. Literally. I had trained for this.
I get up and make my way. I am the fastest sprinter on my team. I'm the closer. The last position.
"You're fast," a voice states next to me.
I look in the lane. I'm waiting in the exchange zone. I've been running track for a long time and people usually didn't talk in this zone. When I see that it's Aaron standing next to me talking I'm kind of confused. I'm surprised he knows who I am. I have to admit he looks even sexier up closer and personal. Our eyes meet and my hormones just rage. My dad would kill me if he knew I was here wondering how it would be like to have this guy tea bag my mouth in the middle of a race.
"Thanks, you are too," I tell him, "Still got to beat you though."
"Is that right?"
"Oh trust me, I'm going to beat you," I state, "That NIke endorsement isn't going to save you. Nikes don't make you faster man."
"Neither does that big head weighing you down man."
"Only big head I have is in these tights."
I look down signaling towards my crotch. The guy laughs when I do it. It breaks the tension a little bit. He has a perfect smile. I'll have to admit that. I mean his teeth are one of those teeth that are just lined perfectly in his mouth. They illuminate up against his darker skin tone. He looks like he has perfected the craft of flossing too. Ever look at someone and just say...yeah, you take good care of your teeth? It makes me wonder what his breath smells like. It makes me wonder what his mouth tastes like. It makes me wonder what his sex is like too but then again maybe I'm just straight up horny for the guy at this point.
"You got a sense of humor. Remember that when you lose."
"My sense of humor only rivals your sense of imagination."
BANG!
The race starts. I'm in my zone. I can't focus on him at this moment. Ray passes the baton to Andrew. Andrew passes the baton to Dez. At this point, we are equal to anyone. And then I look over at Dez. I give him the signal. He knows what that signal means. I am going to drain that big dick of his dry tonight if he can come through for me.
Dez takes off like at that point. I can see the glint of hope of my promise in his eyes as he runs as though racing to the perfect orgasm. His big dick is still hard but it doesn't even weigh him down not even in the slightest as he approaches the zone I'm in. Sure enough at this point, we are in a lead.
Perfect.
I can't help to smile as I get the baton.
I take off!
My arms move side to side in quick perfected motions. My legs pound the concrete like small hammers drilling into invisible nails. I take short breaths, easy and toned. My eyes fix on the finishing line. I keep my steady pace just knowing that I am going to blow this out of the water.
Then I turn to the side.
It's Aaron!
I'm so confused. How the fuck was this even possible? His team was way behind! Sure enough, though Aaron caught up to me. He fucking caught up to me. His muscular legs beat the track but they aren't like hammers. These are fucking sledgehammers. I can almost hear the sound of him coming next to me. I can't do it. I can't fucking shake it. I'm trusting forward head first hoping it would make any difference.
The finish line is so close. My legs are feeling like glue but I have to keep moving. I grip the baton like a source of life. I stop breathing at this point. I go against everything my father taught me. I'm just so desperate to win. I'm speeding, faster, faster.
I run past the finishing line collapsing to the floor when I do.
"Good race," Aaron states.
He was there first. He's standing over me. He offers me his hand. I look up at him. I can't believe what just happened. I can't believe I just lost. I look over at my Dad. The look on his face says it all. The dread of disappointment as Aaron didn't only beat me in this race but actually is helping pick me off the ground as if I'm some charity case.
I slap his hand away.
"Fuck off," I tell him.
I walk away. No. I stomp away. I do the only thing I can think about. I go to my dad. Desperation is outlined all over my face and all of a sudden I'm that 6 year old again falling off my bike and desperately looking up at my Dad hoping he'd run over and brush off my wounds.
That doesn't happen. What happened is similar to what happened when I was 6 and I fell off that bike.
My dad just looks at me and shakes his head, "Embarrassing."
He walks away right then and there.
I get back at that moment. The rest of the team is celebrating. They are confused on why I'm upset. They don't get it. They never would.
"You OK?" Coach McGee asks me, "You did great. That goddam Aaron kid is as fast a metahuman. You did your best. I'm proud of you."
"Don't touch me."
He wouldn't get it. Coach McGee was saying the things anyone would want to hear from someone they looked up to. Only thing is I didn't look up to Coach McGee. I looked up to one person and it's been the same all my life. I looked up to my father.
"Sure, no problem," McGee says clearly turned off.
"I want to leave."
I can see my dad waiting with Tristan. I know by the look on his face that I won't hear the end of this. He would triple my training. I wouldn't get any sleep. So much for draining Dez's dick tonight.
"There is one more event and you can leave."
Weird. Usually, the relay was the last event.
"Put me in."
"What?"
"Put me in the event Coach."
Coach McGee looks at me confused, "It's the Long Jump. You've never even done Long Jump. What the hell are you talking about putting you in? There are guys who have trained for this."
The Long Jump was something that Devonte Matthews did. The Long Jump was a track and field event in which athletes combine speed, strength, and agility in an attempt to leap as far as possible from a take-off point. I can see Devonte Matthews right now. He's been preparing for it for awhile. He wasn't the best at it, to be honest with you. Maybe that's why I don't feel bad for what I say next.
"I'll leave the team," I threaten him, "I'll go to a rival school if you don't put me in for Devonte. I'm your star runner. How would you like to explain to them how you lost your star runner?"
"You're threatening me?"
This wasn't me. I'd seen Dad threaten people a million times. Guys who looked at him the wrong way got threatened, people who crossed him at his work downtown at the construction site got threatened and even our neighbors got threatened from time to time. In this moment I was channeling Ed Bennett. Usually, I just stood there hoping the people wouldn't hate me forever for my dad's actions. I knew how to threaten people. I had heard it all my life. But this wasn't me.
Right now was different though. I needed to win. I needed to win something. I didn't care what it was. Even if it's an event that wasn't mine."
"I'll walk. I promise you I will," I tell him.
Coach McGee folds to the pressure like I know he would. Within a matter of seconds, I'm preparing for a long jump. I look over at my Dad. He's still paying attention but I know he's wondering what the hell I was doing.
I was just trying not to be a loser.
That's all I wanted.
I had no idea that moment would change my life forever.
I had seen the jump before. I had played around with it before. So when I start, I burst forward into a sprint until I get to the line.
I make the approach. The sprint was easy for me. This was something I was used to. My legs work faster than a normal Long Jumper but it's just as controlled. I don't count the strides but I believe I do about 12 before my last two strides. I prepare myself for my last two strides trying to focus but somehow this focus works a little bit too well, or so it seems. I clear everything out.
The whole world goes silent.
My mouth gets real sticky. The kind of sticky that you get when you just had a gang of soda and you wake up in the middle of the morning realizing you have no water around you. I feel this relaxed sense of panic. The only way to compare it is to imagine you are about to get into a car accident but it's too late to maneuver the car in any sort of way so at this point you just brace for impact hoping for the best. I lower my center of body preparing for the vertical impulse. I am so focused that I don't even see the track anymore. Everything seems to go black. Everything around me.
All I feel is this sense of unease.
I keep telling myself to takeoff. Takeoff...takeoff.
And then in my mind's eye, I see an animal. It's that little grasshopper. And for some reason I feel just like that animal would in a position like this.
And I takeoff.
I land. My vision is back. It came back somewhere in mid-air while I was jumping. The stickiness in my throat went away as well. At this point, I just am hoping I placed and wondering what the fuck that weird feeling in my body was while I was doing the long jump. I still haven't gotten my hearing back. Or at least I don't think so. It isn't until I hear the recognizable shriek of my younger brother that I realize my hearing has come back and people are just quiet.
I don't know why.
I don't get it.
But then I see how far I have jumped.
I had to have jumped at least 30 feet past where I was supposed to.
"Holy shit."
Everyone is looking at me. Everyone is staring. Everyone is wondering what the fuck just happened. So I do the only thing that I can do. I run. I fucking run as fast and as far as I can.
~
I don't know where I am at the end of the night. I'm panicking. There is no way a normal human can jump as far as I did. No way in the world. I don't know what I'm thinking about at that moment. I find myself hiding out behind the bleachers somewhere. I'm trying to catch my breath. Adrenaline is racing through my fucking body this entire time. I had literally just jumped 30 feet.
30 fucking feet.
"That was crazy..." a voice states.
I turn almost scared to death when I see someone walking up to me. I look over and notice who it is.
"Aaron?"
Sure enough, Aaron has followed me. He walks over to me and leans up against the wall. The bleachers are open and there is a dark shadow passing all over us.
"You got everyone talking back there," he tells me, "You should really get back soon. I think your dad is looking for you."
"How'd you find me?" I ask.
He shrugs, "Just got lucky I guess. How'd you do that jump, by the way, man? You ever do anything like that before?"
I don't know why he cares. I don't know why I'm sitting here at this moment describing it to him. I just feel alone though. I was beyond confused. I needed to talk about it even if only to get my mind around what the fuck I just did.
"I just was thinking about this grasshopper man and it was almost just like I became a fucking grasshopper."
"I hate to break it to you buddy, but you didn't change into a grasshopper."
"Not physically. Not transformed. No. I took on the characteristics of that grasshopper..."
I am going to describe it more. I was going to tell him about the dry mouth or the silence. Or even the darkness. We are interrupted though by someone approaching.
"Everything OK here?"
At that moment someone literally drops from the sky with a stream of red light jetting behind them. I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. I take a step back, wipe my eyes and adjust to the shadow of the moon that's falling on the bleachers. My heart is beating. I'm starting to panic. I think I'm losing it like I did earlier when I did the long jump. I'm not though. I'm just realizing who I'm looking at.
I'm fanning the fuck out. This can't be. This can't fucking be. I look over and I see a man in a suit. The suit is red and skin tight. The man has a nice body, perfectly chiseled. He has a half mask on his face. The other half of the mask I can make out a strong, chiseled jawline. A perfectly trimmed face. His facial hair was this amazing salt and pepper blend. He was definitely mature but a million times sexier than any guy my age. I can't take my eyes off of him. I had never been this up close and personal to a real live superhero. I had seen them at parades in Metropolis from afar or on television but this was different. Way different.
"Sunbeam," I state.
I sound like a fangirl. My tone is way higher than I want it to be. I want to repeat my recognition of who it is in a deeper tone but I think it would be weird to say his name twice so I just sit there like a fucking loser.
"You OK, son?" he asks, "I didn't like how you ran off like that. I hurried and changed."
I think he's talking to me. You know how some guys call younger guys 'son'. So like a fucking idiot I just look at him and shake my head, "I'm fine Mr. Sunbeam sir. I can't believe I'm meeting you. I can't believe I'm talking to the leader of the Host of Heroes. I just saw you flying overhead earlier. Oh my god! This is fucking happening! I have all your comics. I used to hide posters of you under my bed."
I don't want to tell him that I used to jerk off to said posters. Sure enough, if you found those posters now they'd all be stuck to one another. I guess I could keep that little bit to myself. Seeing Sunbeam in person definitely made me want to revert back to that kid again. I wanted to take a mental note of his perfectly tone body in this sexy suit and beat my dick until it begged me to stop tonight.
Sunbeam puts a hand on Aaron's shoulder, "Actually I wasn't talking to you."
"I'm OK, Dad," Aaron responds.
"Dad?" I ask.
I'm confused more than ever. Was Aaron calling Sunbeam his dad?
"Everything will be OK," Aaron tells me ignoring my question, "A guy with your gift should be among the Host. After seeing what you did I'm beyond impressed. You're a second generation hero. Just like me."
My mouth gets dry, "You...you're a metahuman?"
Aaron nods.
He pulls down his just to his waist. That's when he begins to transform. His upper body begins to turn white. Everything begins to frost over as though dipped in dry ice.
Before I know it Aaron is staring at me but I recognize the spiky white hair at this moment. I recognize the frost all over brawny man chest. The white pigment has spread over his robust muscular arms so you can see every detail. His perfect bulbous nipples are iced over. In front of me isn't a boy anymore but a strapping superhero whose body and might seems to be only matched by Sunbeam standing right next to him. These aren't men to me, as I look over at them. No. These were Gods.
And I recognized that Aaron was my favorite superhero: White Frost.
"I'm a metahuman," he tells me, "A superhuman in other words. I have the responsibility to promote peace and safety and also the ability to do extraordinary things. I'm a superhero. And so are you..."
To read the next chapter go to www.crushedcrown.com