Fuchsia Fox - "Fox Hunt", by Centurion

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flirty_but_nice
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Here's the next Fuchsia Fox story by Centurion.

He had these comments to say about the story ... ("The villainess in this story... well, there's a member of the forum who keeps requesting a "big-titted villainess" who "outwrestles and dominates" the Fox. I based her costume on Powergirl (you know the white leotard with the oval cutout over her cleavage?) and her powers on Starfire, except I made her black because I need more ethnic villains. Although her name is mentioned in the prologue, she doesn't actually appear until the last half of chapter four, so if you get bored with the character development stuff, you could skip ahead to the fight scene.")


Fuchsia Fox : "Fox Hunt"
by Centurion (posted by flirty_but_nice)


Prologue -- Washington, D.C.


Special Agent Alvin Dinsdale sat in his office with his back straight in his desk chair as he watched the congressional debate on C-SPAN. A silver-haired representative from Iowa or Ohio or some other damn place had the floor, describing the attack by the Guardsmen paramilitary group on the channel 3 television station a couple of months earlier.

"...and it was only through the swift action of the District of Columbia Special Response Unit that disaster was averted. These terrorists wanted only to strike at the Fuchsia Fox, and as a result the lives of innocent people were put in danger. This is no isolated incident. I have here a report by Agent Dinsdale of the Department of Homeland Security detailing eighteen such incidents across the nation. The Fuchsia Fox, Wonder Woman, Supergirl; the list goes on. They're all magnets to this kind of thing."

Lieutenant Alec Booker was standing on the other side of Dinsdale's desk, watching the speech along with him and fidgeting impatiently. Dinsdale ignored him.

"I would be the first to concede," the congressman went on, "that these superhuman individuals do a lot of good. But none of them has any accountability. None of them has sworn loyalty to the United States. In many cases they're not even U.S. citizens. Supergirl is an alien from another planet! Therefore we must require that all superhuman individuals register with Homeland Security. They must reveal their true identities to the government, the nature and extent of their abilities, and the means by which they may be neutralized if and when the need arises..."

"Do you really think it will pass?" Booker said. "This Superhuman Registration Bill?"

Dinsdale shifted in his chair. "People are scared. On the other hand, these women are extremely popular public figures. It could go either way." He swiveled his chair to look out the window at the Washington skyline. "But I've been thinking... if just one superheroine were captured in public, it could tip the scales. If we could goad her into a fight, it wouldn't matter if the charges against her were strictly speaking legitimate or not. The public perception would be that she was dangerous."

"The Fuchsia Fox, you mean?" Booker said with a smile. "I'd love to nail her little purple ass. What do you want to do, invite her to some kind of public appearance and then ambush her there?"

"Hell no!" Dinsdale said quickly. "Think how bad we'd look if we lost. She's been spotted over the Mall fairly often. Use the CCTV network to keep an eye out for her. And when she appears, unsuspecting, that's when we pounce."

"It's not going to be that easy," Booker said thoughtfully. "We'd have to wait for her to land someplace. We don't have anything to catch her in the air. Most of the security cameras are set up to cover ground level, anyway. Then we'd have to mobilize fast; she doesn't usually hang around more than a minute or two. And how are we supposed to capture her? She's--" He broke off as he followed that thought to a logical conclusion. "Oh hell no. You're not thinking of Project Powerhouse? Boss, I don't think she's ready."

"Ready or not," Dinsdale said, "we have to act before the vote is taken. I want it done in the next couple of days."


***


Chapter 1 --


It was noon. Traffic was backed up over the 14th Street Bridge, held up by the motorcade of some visiting dignitary. The impatient motorists had a decent view of the beautiful white marble dome of the Jefferson Memorial off to their left, not that it soothed their tempers any. To their right, a heavy construction crane was making repairs to the railway underpass.

The operator of the crane had been in the seat all morning, hauling and placing massive sections of concrete culvert, and right now all he was thinking about was his lunch. It only took a moment's inattention, swinging the crane around a little too sharply. The hard hat swore as he felt the machine lurch underneath him, and heard a shrill whipping sound as the control cables snapped. The seventy foot long jib of the crane swayed drunkenly as the chains also snapped, allowing the section of culvert to fall with a dull thud to the thankfully unoccupied ground underneath.

The man in the cab held on as the whole crane kept tilting, the seventy foot jib falling straight across the 14th Street Bridge. The motorists stuck there by the traffic jam were open-mouthed with terror as they watched death fall toward them like the world's biggest flyswatter.

A beautiful young woman suddenly appeared from out of nowhere, catching the falling jib approximately midway along its length. Momentum alone carried the girl's lithe, slender body along with it for another thirty feet or so before she was able to arrest it, a matter of inches from the roofs of the cars. The motorists let out a gasp as they recognized the attractive brunette, and more importantly the familiar costume adorning her body -- the tight, purplish-pink boy-cut briefs clinging so snugly to her firm, round buttocks, the elbow length gloves and ankle boots... and above all the halter top that clung to her torso, with its fox head chest emblem.

The Fuchsia Fox held the crane in check, the cool metal main strut nestled between the swell of her nubile young breasts. That had been a close one! If she hadn't happened to be flying along the Potomac, all these people might have been killed! "Okay now..." the heroine said to herself breathlessly as she gathered her strength, "lift..."

Slowly the girl stretched her upper body and began to rise into the air, applying her full strength to lifting the crane arm and carrying it toward the construction area. As the body of the crane crashed violently back into place, the operator was thrown clear out of the cab. Motorists on the bridge were out of their cars by now, snapping pictures as the heroine flew up and caught the man, saving him from a thirty foot fall onto the hard concrete.

"Are you all right?" she asked, setting him down on the ground.

"Oh damn," the man said, looking sort of dazed. "I just saw my life flash before my eyes..."

"Do you need to be taken to a hospital?" the Fox asked, still holding him steady. Behind her, she could hear the footsteps of other construction workers running to see if they could help.

The hard hat was staring at the huge crane arm, lying in a tangled mess not ten feet from where he was standing. "You saved my life! You just saved my frigging life! I don't know how to thank you!" The other workers surrounded the gorgeous young superheroine, taking the opportunity to gawk close-up at her delicious bod sheathed in clingy fuchsia.

"I was happy to do it, sir," the heroine replied with a smile. She could sense their hearts beating faster, almost smell the testosterone rising as they stared at her. "If you don't need me, I'll be off." And with a wave, she rose into the sky again and flew away.

A few moments later, the Fox alighted on the roof of the National Archives, in a null zone she had found in between the CCTV coverage. As she slipped inside a dusty, little used storage room, she triggered the adaptive z-particle flux in her costume and summoned her street clothes to her. In less than a second, her fuchsia elbow length gloves and ankle boots had vanished, and a maroon sweater top, slacks, and brown leather boots had appeared on her body, covering her costume. This was a useful trick she had recently discovered, much better than having to physically remove her clothes and hunt up someplace to hide them every time she changed!

Jennifer Traylor Fletcher, assistant curator, hurried downstairs to her office, sweeping a brush quickly through her brunette hair.

Several people were waiting at her desk, eager to bombard her with minor problems that had somehow come up during her lunch break, ranging from an imminent shortage of energy-efficient light bulbs to a bitter argument over a weekend scheduling conflict. Jennifer tackled each one with her usual easy tact. At two o'clock, she picked up her tablet and got ready for the monthly budget meeting.

As Jennifer arrived in the conference room, several members of the staff were talking about the new Superhuman Registration Bill, which had been introduced in the House of Representatives shortly after she had foiled the Guardsmen's attack on the television station. Jennifer felt butterflies of dread swishing around in her stomach; she had been trying to avoid thinking about this for days.

"I think it's a stupid idea," muttered Evan Howe from the Restoration department. "Once the Fox reveals her real identity to the government, how do they guarantee it stays a secret? It'd be leaked to the press by the next weekend, I bet."

"I don't like the idea of the government being able to neutralize her powers," added Lauren Durocher from Public Archives. "I'm not sure I trust the government that much."

"And you honestly trust HER?" said Dana Fazio from Human Resources. "A girl like that running around, showing off? Wiggling her little booty in that skimpy outfit?"

"Someone sounds jealous to me," said Lauren.

"Jealous of her?" Dana scoffed, her face red. "I'd love to see her get her tush well and truly handed to her by some supervillain, just to show her she's no better than the rest of us."

"How can you say that? The Fox represents ALL women, Dana! She's a symbol of the best that we all can be."

"She's saved the city more than once," Evan said. "Just like Wonder Woman and Supergirl."

"Oh right!" said Jerry Callahan from I.T. "For that matter, how much do we know about Wonder Woman? She just pops up one day and says she comes from a secret island someplace. Sure... They're all probably lesbos anyway. I don't trust any of 'em. These chicks need to know their place. They need to know that, even if they do have super powers, we can take them down if we have to."

"I hope that's not sexism, Jerry," said the curator, Angela Pace, entering the conference room.

Dana said, "It's not sexism to wonder what will happen if someday she realizes that she can use her powers to rob banks. Or what if she becomes frustrated with our justice system and decides to take matters into her own hands?"

"Or has a fight with her girlfriend," Jerry grumbled, "or a bad case of PMS. She's a time bomb just waiting to explode, if you ask me."

"Be that as it may," Dr. Pace said, pulling out her chair, "we have a budget meeting to get through, so let's get started."

Jennifer found it unexpectedly difficult to keep her mind on the meeting. She wasn't sure how she felt about all this. Angry? Frustrated? No, not exactly. More than anything she felt hurt and confused. She was surprised that after all this time, people were expressing doubts about her. Goodness knows she had doubts about herself all the time. If she had been a fraction of a second slower at the bridge, for example, that construction worker would have died. Most of the time, she was playing it by ear, just trying to do the best she could.

And to have concerns about Wonder Woman of all people...? Was this all just paranoia? Or was it a serious threat she should be worried about? Was being a superheroine worth this aggravation?


***


Chapter 2 --


Somehow Jennifer got through the rest of the day, having come no closer to sorting out her feelings. As dusk fell, she climbed to that convenient storage room and changed back into the Fuchsia Fox. She flew back across the city, this time for variety taking the long way around through the northwest quadrant. Once it was fully dark, the heroine slipped through the open window of a loft apartment in Falls Church.

"You're on the news," said Major Barbara Wright, dressed in green and black shorts, sport bra and sneakers, her blonde hair braided and falling down her back. She tilted her phone so that the superheroine could see the screen, displaying a streaming video of her at the bridge.

"It was nothing really," the Fox said modestly, her brown eyes moving toward the yoga mats which had been placed across the hardwood floor of Major Wright's living room.

"That's not all," Major Wright said. "What are you going to do about that Superhuman Registration Bill?"

"I don't know that I'm going to do anything," the Fox replied coolly. "That's up to the American people. I have no intention of giving up my secret identity to the government. But if they don't want superheroines around, hey that's fine with me. I could retire, maybe have a normal life."

"You don't mean that, Fox," Barbara said sternly. "You love this city, and you'd never stop protecting her, no matter what those bureaucrats do."

"I guess you know me better than I do myself, then," the heroine muttered. The were days when she felt as if she could give it up in a heartbeat. "Shall we get started with our session?" she said abruptly, removing her bracelets of Ishtar and setting them on the coffee table.

Major Wright's eyes grew wide. "You're deactivating your powers?" she said.

"I can usually do a good job of keeping my strength in check, Barbara," the Fox said with a smile. "But at the moment, let's just say I don't want to risk hurting you by accident."

"Oh. Good," said her sparring partner, pulling on leather fingerless sparring gloves. The two girls did some warm-up exercises, stretching their long, lean bodies and getting them ready for action, then they jumped right into it.

Barbara attacked aggressively with a flurry of punches, spins, and kicks, which the Fox was able to block. Then the heroine in turn became the attacker as they danced and swayed back and forth across the mats, neither able to gain the advantage. "You're finally getting the hang of this," Barbara commented, her exposed silken skin beginning to glisten with perspiration.

"It's about time," the Fox replied, her rosy flesh likewise showing the effects of the strenuous workout. "I'm feeling like I can hold my own in any fight now."

"Don't get cocky on me," Barbara said, as her right leg darted out in a lateral kick. The stunning superheroine deftly evaded, then ducked just in time to avoid Barbara's follow up fist. But the Fox caught her wrist, swept her arm around the blonde girl's elbow and flipped her, dropping her onto the mat, flat on her back.

"Tag," the heroine grinned, pinning Barbara's wrists to the mat. "You're it." The blonde's lissome body was spread-eagled underneath her, chest rising and falling, her ample C-cups straining against the front of her green and black sport bra. The Fox's heart beat faster. For a moment, she couldn't help thinking of the time they had both been trapped in Dr. Yu's clinic, and she had pretended to come onto the blonde sexually, in order to distract the villain and allow their escape.

"Pretty good," Barbara panted. "Maybe you're ready for some Advanced Lessons." Sensing the Fox's distraction, she twisted her hips, her silken legs wrapping around the sassy super-lady's trim waist. Thrusting upward, she toppled her over. Before the Fox knew quite what had happened, her blonde adversary had slipped free and pinned her right arm behind her, at the same time yanking upward on her fuchsia halter top, exposing both her supple little breasts.

"Unnn... Uncle!" the Fox groaned, as Barbara's free hand caressed her right boob, fingering her suddenly hard, erect nipple.

"What did you say?" Barbara whispered in her ear, her lips gently nuzzling the heroine's smooth, swanlike neck, slippery with perspiration, while her hand continued to fondle her pliable B-cup. Both their heartbeats were racing now, pulses singing with the pleasure of their sensuous body contact.

"I said I give!" the Fox whispered. Their faces were close together, eyes meeting, lips parting. Slowly Barbara leaned in closer still. Their moist lips touched, then pressed together in a honey-sweet kiss. Jennifer felt Barbara's tongue venture timidly into her mouth, touching her own tongue as their breath mingled. Feelings were stirring in her loins. Her body seemed on fire...

"Wow! That was... that was something," Barbara said, as she pulled back and the moment passed. Suddenly all business, she released the superheroine and helped her to stand up. "You're getting there. You just need to learn to be ready for the unexpected."

"That was certainly unexpected," the Fox said, tugging her halter top back down over her breasts.

"Yeah, well..." Barbara broke off. Her blue eyes were fixed on the coffee table... and the bracelets of Ishtar. She stared at the twin alien artifacts, her breath taken away by their simple beauty. These were what endowed the Fox with her amazing super powers! What would happen if she put them on? She would give almost anything to be like the Fox, a superheroine...

The Fox watched a little bit apprehensively as Barbara picked her bracelets up. She herself had no idea what would happen. Was it possible that they would deem Barbara worthy of their power, too?

Barbara slipped the bracelets onto her wrists, clicked the catches shut. They felt cool, light, comfortable... not at all like powerful artifacts. Then suddenly she felt something -- a noticeable flow of energy racing down both arms, arousing all of her senses, making her heart flutter and her body tingle all over. Wow! Was this what the Fox felt ALL the TIME?

"Barbara?" the Fox said. "Are you okay?"

The feeling of power faded, and Barbara could no longer be sure if it had been real or just her imagination. She decided to downplay it. "Well... it was worth a try," she said with a grin, taking them off and handing them back to their mistress. "Now I hate to rush you off, but I've got a dinner date and I have to take a shower."

"Oh? Anybody I know?" the Fox said lightly, putting her bracelets on.

"Captain Fletcher. I'm meeting him at a new restaurant he discovered."

"Captain Fletcher?" the Fox blurted. "Martin Fletcher?" Why would her husband be arranging a dinner date with Barbara Wright and not tell her?

"I know, but don't get excited," Barbara said reassuringly. "His wife, Jennifer, will be there, too. Have you ever met her?" When the Fox didn't respond right away, she went on. "She's a nice girl; sort of willowy figure, but a bit mousy personality-wise, if you ask me. Martin could do so much better... with ME for one." She paused a bit wistfully. "I don't have to tell you what a hot bod he has. I would dearly love to jump his bones. If only Army regulations weren't in the way..."

The Fox's cheeks burned. She didn't want to hear this intimate confession about Barbara's lust for her husband. And it stung even worse that she couldn't say anything in her own defense without compromising her secret identity.

"Well, anyway," Barbara said, snapping out of her daydream. "Lieutenant Jenkins is supposed to be there, too. Just a casual get-together among friends. Do you want to tag along?"

"I... uh..." the Fox said, still flustered. "I don't think I can go out in public in this outfit."

"You can borrow clothes from me," Barbara said. "Come on! It'll be fun to let your hair down!"

"I'm sorry, I really can't," the heroine said, feeling a stab of anxiety as she edged toward the window. Without the image-enhancing properties of her costume, she would be instantly recognizable as Jennifer Fletcher, and wouldn't that be embarrassing? "I'll see you same time next week." She soared out through the window, hurrying toward the Arlington condo she shared with her husband Martin.


***


Chapter 3 -- Alexandria, Virginia


The restaurant was called "Cafe 80s", inspired by the fictional place in the movie "Back to the Future Part II". The front room had a long white tile counter and booths, and framed retro posters hanging on the walls. In a separate dining section were tables and a neon juke box. To Jennifer Fletcher, the whole idea seemed a little bizarre -- after all, she hadn't even been born until the 1990s. But her husband Martin, several years older than her, had been brought up by his parents on 70s and 80s music, and since he and Oscar Jenkins both loved the movie that had inspired it, they both thought it was cool.

Being after eight o'clock, the bar in the dining room was open. Barbara Wright arrived soon after Martin and Jenn had found a table, while Oscar was getting their orders. Under the impression that this was just a casual get-together, Jennifer had thrown on a pair of yoga pants which clung to the smooth curves of her legs down to mid-calf, warm sheepskin boots, and a loose, long-sleeved top over a pink bralet. Barbara was wearing a flirty denim skirt and jacket over a strapless tube top, a cowboy hat and cowboy boots.

"My God, Fletch!" she said in awe. "It's great! How did you find this place?"

"Colonel Boothby told me about it," Martin grinned. "He says he's going to invest in a franchise when he retires."

"Hi, Major; what's happening?" said Oscar, arriving with a tray full of food and drinks -- a tuna salad and white wine for Jenn; hamburgers, chili dogs and beer for the guys. Jennifer scooted over to make room for him.

Barbara had seen the juke box and run over to take a look. "Starship?" she said excitedly. "Get out of town! Who's got some quarters?"

It was only seconds before the machine was belting out "Nothing's Going To Stop Us Now". Barbara grabbed Martin's hand before he could sit down. "Come on, Fletch! Let me show you how we cut a rug back in Texas."

She dragged him to the scrap of dance floor and the two of them got into it, Barbara's skirt whirling around her lean, athletic legs as Martin spun her to the energetic melody. Jennifer had to admit enviously that not only was Barbara a better fighter than she was, she was a better dancer, too. Martin really seemed to be enjoying himself. So were the other patrons in the restaurant, watching the couple dance.

"Whoo! Rock it!" said Oscar, slapping the flat of his hand on their table. "I gotta say, Jenn. You're really a good sport letting your husband dance with the Major."

Jennifer shrugged, taking a sip of her wine. It wasn't as if she'd had any choice in the matter. "It's just a dance. How about you? You want to get up and shake your feet?"

"Not just now," he said, taking a bite of chili dog and chasing it with a gulp of beer. "I mean, thanks for asking. You're a pretty hot chick yourself. I've always thought that."

"Thank you," Jenn said, blushing slightly. When he wasn't looking, she tugged a little at the bodice of her top.

"Nothing's Going To Stop Us" gave way to "Betty Davis Eyes", which was lighter and more seductive. Barbara and Martin were touching each other more often as they danced, looking soulfully into one another's eyes. Jenn wouldn't have thought anything of it had Barbara not made that confession to her earlier about her erotic feelings for Martin. As she watched the two of them dance, she thought of how much more they had in common than she and Martin did. They were closer in age, both in the military, had many of the same interests.

In contrast, what did Jennifer have going for her? Well, she could pick up and throw twelve tons. She had to admit that her costume was pretty sexy. But the nights she didn't spend working late at the Archives or studying for her Masters she spent constantly looking out for supervillains bent on causing havoc. And Martin couldn't even boast to his friends that he was married to a superheroine. What man wouldn't be intimidated by all that? What man wouldn't secretly yearn for a simpler relationship with someone like Barbara?

Jealous? Her? Jennifer pointedly looked the other way toward Oscar, her husband's hunky, skirt-chasing best friend who had just told her that she was a hot chick -- and who was completely ignoring her. He was looking at a video or something on his phone.

"Who's that?" Jenn said, leaning over. "Your newest girlfriend?"

"Ah you caught me," Oscar said, grinning as he showed her the screen. It was the news clip of the Fuchsia Fox. Jennifer's smile faltered a bit. She had never been more jealous of her own alter ego!

"I don't know what it is," Oscar confessed, "but I can't get enough of her. She's just so amazing! Her body is so perfect in every single detail! It's like I'm addicted to her."

Jennifer took another big drink of wine to hide her blushes. "Well, I gather that a lot of men think that way about the Fox, Oscar."

"Not like this," he said, downing another swig of beer. He glanced around as if to make certain no one could overhear. "Not a lot of men have had sex with her, like I have. Yep, it's true. The first time was back when that babe masquerading as the Fox stole the Declaration of Independence. Remember that? Well, she shot us both with this love potion she had."

His eyes took on a far-away look as he relived the experience in his mind. "I can't begin to describe it, Jenn. Imagine the hottest porn star on Earth, lying there nice and submissive, offering herself to you, begging you to take her! And even after I boinked her, she wasn't satisfied. She got up and gave me the best blow job I'd ever had. Bar none! We were running for our lives from Alchema and her henchmen, but neither of us could fight our animal attraction for one another."

Unnoticed by Oscar, Jennifer's face was getting redder. That was a slightly biased and one-sided account of the incident, but there was no doubt that Oscar truly believed that it had happened exactly that way. And Jenn herself, hearing the way he described it, couldn't help being overcome with a rush of emotions, remembering vividly how amazing HE had been when he took her, how hard his cock had been, and how much she had loved taking his big boner into her mouth and feeling him spray his thick, delicious jizz down her throat!

"The second time..." Oscar pulled up short. "Well, there's no need to talk about the second time. It was clear that she was WAY into me, as much as I was into her. 'Oscar baby! I need you, baby! I need you!' Those were her exact words."

"But Oscar, that was--" Jenn bit her tongue, almost forgetting her dual identity. God, this sucked! For a second, she was tempted to confess who she really was and watch his jaw drop!

"Okay, maybe it was the love potion that turned her on the first time," Oscar generously conceded. "All I can say is I'd like to have a stock of that stuff on hand the next time I bump into her, know what I'm saying?"

"I don't know, Oscar," Jenn said, frowning. "Why do you think you have to capture her with some kind of chemical? The Fox is a woman just like I am. She has feelings like I do. Maybe if you gave her a chance, she could be attracted to you, just the way you are."

"You really think so?" Oscar said, looking at Jenn as though really seeing her for the first time. Then all of a sudden he started remembering the hot web-cam girl, foxyjen, that he had adored so much those few times that she had appeared. She had been SO sweet and sexy! Looking into Jennifer's brown eyes now, the resemblance was uncanny... Could Jenn really be her, the hottest camgirl he had ever had the pleasure of viewing?

"Oscar? Are you there?" Jenn said, breaking into his thoughts. "You zoned out on me for a second."

"Oh, sorry." Oscar glanced at Martin and Barbara on the dance floor, then put down his glass of beer. "Hey, what do you say we show those losers how to dance?"


***

Chapter 4 --


The four of them were enjoying themselves so much, it wasn't until after nine o'clock that they left the restaurant and went their separate ways. Martin had had three beers, so Jennifer slipped into the driver's seat of their Subaru while Barbara gave him a lingering hug good night.

"I'm sorry again I didn't give you more warning about this," Martin said as they rode back from Alexandria. "It was a spur of the moment thing. We were talking about the place at work, and one thing led to another..."

"It's fine," Jennifer said. "I just wish I'd known to wear something dressier. You said casual."

Her husband looked over her pink bralet, showing in tantalizing glimpses through the loose neckline of her top, and his eyes followed the line down her clingy yoga pants. "There's nothing wrong with the way you're dressed," he said.

"But the way Barbara... I mean Major Wright was dressed..."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to compare yourself to Barbara Wright all the time..."

"Let's just drop it, okay?" she snapped, feeling her cheeks burning.

After a slight pause, Martin, still feeling the three beers he had drunk, said, "You and Oscar were hitting it off really well."

"He's your friend, after all," Jennifer replied, biting her lip and keeping her eyes on the road.

"But the way you two were cozying up," her husband said, missing the warning in her tone of voice, "I was thinking about that time you two got mixed up with that vampire chick, Aurelia. Remember that? It really got my blood pumping, to see the Fuchsia Fox servicing his man sausage like that. I mean, wow; that must have been--"

Jennifer abruptly hit the brakes of the Subaru and pulled over in the breakdown lane. Without a word, she slipped off her seatbelt and got out of the car, leaving the engine running. "Jenn?" Martin asked, totally bewildered. "Angel? What's the matter?"

With a flash of light, Jennifer sent away the clothes she was wearing while simultaneously she summoned her Fuchsia Fox costume around her body. Then she streaked into the dark night sky like a rocket, needing the blessed relief of flight, and wanting nothing more than to get away from Martin before she said or did something she'd regret.

Her brain felt numb with anger, although precisely what she was angry about, she couldn't have said. The cold winter air tingled on her sleek young body as the superheroine flew above the sparkling lights of the city. When she came to the dark ribbon of the Potomac River, she turned automatically North, past the lights of Bolling Air Force Base on one side and Washington Airport on the other. Without even thinking about it, she angled her flight path downward to avoid their radar, skimming just meters above the surface of the water, avoiding sightseeing boats with practiced ease, and shooting underneath bridge after bridge as she followed the curve of the river.

Ten minutes and twelve miles later, the Fox pulled up and did a U-turn over the Georgetown area, heading back toward the Mall. The Washington Monument reared up in front her like a giant accusing finger. The stunning super-lady alit for a few moments on the summit of the obelisk while she caught her breath, her gloved hand at its peak holding her high heeled boots braced against its slanting side as she enjoyed the spectacular view, the cold wind whipping her brunette tresses around her face. Then she let go and dove toward the ground, flying South across West Potomac Park and the Tidal Basin.

There it was, the Jefferson Memorial! Of all the monuments in Washington, it was probably her favorite, with its simple, classical dome and colonnade. The park rangers would still be on duty until ten, but at this time of night and in the middle of winter there were thankfully few tourists lingering around. The Fox landed quietly on the steps of the portico, slipping into the shadow between the first and second columns. There she sat down on the top step, looking back North toward the Washington Monument and the White House beyond.

Suddenly Jennifer felt tears running down her cheeks like streams of fire. Why did it always seem like it was HIS needs that mattered more than hers? This stupid Superhuman Registration Bill had her confused and upset. Why couldn't he see that she had needed his reassurance and comfort? She had wanted to be alone with him to talk about it, but instead she had had to go out to dinner and make small talk with his friends. How could he be so dense as not to see that? And then that crack about her "servicing" Oscar! Oh God! How was it possible to love a man, to need him more than life itself, and still feel the urge to break him in half?

After a while, the heroine's tears subsided. Looking out at the Tidal Basin through red-rimmed eyes, she couldn't help thinking about how she and Martin used to meet here, back in the days when she didn't dare reveal her true identity to him. Those were giddy days, simpler days. She had been so much in love with him, even though she could remember the anguish she went through over whether he could be trusted with her secret or not. How had things gotten so complicated?

Jennifer knew that Martin wasn't to blame. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't read her mind. On the heels of that thought came another... Thomas Westerton! He could read her moods so easily! Temptation hit her like a gush of hot water, and she struggled to push the image of him away from her the way an alcoholic might push away a glass of whiskey. She didn't need to get caught up in that trap again!

"Oh well," the Fox said out loud, drying her eyes. She supposed she had better get back to Martin and somehow make amends for leaving him like that...

"Keep your hands where I can see them!" barked a stern female voice. "Stand up slowly!"

A very attractive young woman was standing on the sidewalk near the foot of the steps. She was tall, six feet or close to it, her body well-built and perfectly proportioned from top to bottom. The word "statuesque" instantly came to mind. Her gorgeous bust looked to be about a double-D. What skin she showed on her legs, hands, face and neck had a dark tan, almost bronze in the artificial lights around the memorial. Coppery red hair fell in ample curls around her shoulders.

The goddess was wearing a long-sleeved white leotard and mask, along with dark blue bikini briefs, a wide gold belt, and blue knee boots. Across the chest of her leotard was a oval cutout, positioned to show off her truly breath-taking cleavage, while a red cape draped from her lovely shoulders.

"Who might you be, babe?" the Fox asked wearily as she got to her feet. "I'm in kind of a hurry."

"I might be your executioner, smart ass," the girl said, thumping her marvelous chest with her fist. "What I'm called is Powerhouse, and I'm a fully deputized agent of the Department of Homeland Security. Be a good little girl and surrender peacefully. I don't want to hurt you if I don't have to." With her other hand, she held up a pair of steel manacles.

The Fox glanced to her left. Inside under the memorial's dome were a pair of park rangers, unsure what to make of this. One was on his cell phone, apparently calling in for instructions. The superheroine sighed as she started down the steps. "I don't have time for this," she said. "If Dinsdale is behind this, you can tell him that you delivered your message. I'll be in to see him when it's convenient."

"Don't turn your back on me!" Powerhouse snarled, her eyes suddenly glowing. Red beams of energy erupted from her eye sockets and slammed into the Fox's lovely abs, the impact throwing the delectable young heroine backwards against the marble column behind her.

The Fox had brought up her invisible force shield too late. The twin beams hit her like two lances made out of fire, sending shafts of paralyzing pain all up and down the girl's exquisite body. She cried out in agony and nearly fell, struggling to catch her breath.

"And that wasn't even half power, honeybunch," Powerhouse smirked. "That was just to get your attention. Why don't you just get down on your knees, crawl down here and surrender?"


***


Chapter 5 --


"Not a chance," the Fuchsia Fox said. The spunky superheroine charged down the steps of the Jefferson Memorial like a fury, drawing back her right fist for a roundhouse punch. As she closed with her assailant, Powerhouse sidestepped, ducking her shot and returning one of her own into the Fox's solar plexus.

The blow hit with enough force to crush an automobile; obviously the girl's strength was somewhat enhanced. The Fox's force shield absorbed most of it, but she definitely felt it. The young heroine struck out at her opponent again with a series of quick jabs which Powerhouse blocked or evaded. Jennifer managed to break through her guard and land one solid smack on the bigger girl's jaw. As the agent stumbled to one knee, the Fox followed through with a high lateral kick. Powerhouse caught her slender ankle, and her eye beams lanced out again, slightly more powerful than before.

The Fox's force shield was active this time, but even with it she felt hot knives of pain penetrating through her body as the beams hurled her alluring frame across the portico. Stupid! Jennifer thought. What had Barbara taught her, over and over again? Use your head! Don't let your temper get the better of you! And here she was, forgetting all her training and flailing around like some pure stupid rookie!

"Was that supposed to hurt, little vixen?" Powerhouse taunted, rubbing her jaw. "Isn't that what they call a fox bitch -- a vixen? I'm gonna make you my bitch if you keep resisting me like this."

"I'm not even getting started," the Fox retorted as she rose gracefully to her feet. She spotted CCTV cameras, turning on their mounts to follow the battle. So that was how Dinsdale had known where she was! He was probably watching her right now.

While the Fox was distracted by this thought, the super-agent charged, leading with her left fist, followed up by her right. The heroine ducked both and snaked her arms smoothly around her opponent's trim waist, pulling her supple, spandex-clad body into a bear hug. Powerhouse struggled to break free, both hands clutching at the Fox's slender throat while her exquisite body squirmed in the heroine's grasp, her marvelous melons squashed against Jennifer's face. It could have almost been a sensual sensation if it hadn't been a matter of life or death. It was a question of which one could outlast the other.

Then suddenly up came Powerhouse's silken knee into the Fox's succulent cleft. Once again the sassy superheroine's force shield softened the blow, but the unexpected move caused her to let go of her hold. Her attacker took advantage of the opening to wrap one sinewy arm around the brunette's swan-like neck and toss her lissome frame across the marble steps like a ragdoll.

The Fox tumbled down the second tier of steps, mentally kicking herself for not seeing that one coming. As she rolled to a halt on the walkway by the edge of the Tidal Basin, not three yards away from her stood a tourist couple holding their guide book in between them, utterly amazed by the sight of a cat fight between two beautiful young women in eye-catching spandex costumes.

Innocent bystanders! The Fox realized at the same time that she was pulling her punches for fear of damaging the memorial. The white marble was already showing scorch marks from Powerhouse's eye beams. Suddenly she remembered the construction site not far away at the railroad overpass. They could wallop one another to their hearts' content there, without hurting anybody.

"Hey, Pussyhouse!" she shouted. "I haven't had this much fun since my last IRS audit! See you in the funny pages!" Taking to the air, she flew off in the direction of the 14th Street Bridge.

"Don't you run out on me, bitch!" her attacker yelled, her red cape streaming behind her as she zoomed skyward in pursuit.

Powerhouse overtook the Fox just past the railroad bridge, but before the heroine could angle their descent downward to the construction site, her attacker had grabbed hold around her shapely bare knees. Jenn struggled to pull free, resulting in their two feminine bodies, entwined together, tumbling end over end through the air for a mile or more like an out-of-control rocket.

At last the stalemate was broken. The Fox landed with a splat on the western steps of the Capitol Building, while Powerhouse alighted only slightly less awkwardly just a few yards away. Jennifer groaned as she struggled to push herself upright. The whole portico of the building was brightly lit as hundreds of people emerged from the hearings taking place. There were camera crews from channel 14, channel 3, channel 5 from Baltimore, as well as some network commentators.

A dozen uniformed security guards began running down the steps toward them. "Stay back!" Powerhouse ordered, thrusting out her magnificent bosom. "Homeland Security Superhuman Enforcement Division! I've got this under control!" Cocking her broad, heavenly hips, the bronze-skinned goddess dangled the manacles insolently. "Are you going to give in now, like a nice little vixen? Or do you want me to whip your cocky little ass while the whole country watches?"

"Bring it on," the Fox hissed, literally soaring down to the attack.

Powerhouse took a half-step back into a mantis posture and then launched herself forward into a spinning martial arts assault with fists and kicks flying. The stunning superheroine parried one blow, ducked another, blocked a kick, and caught her opponent's right wrist, yanking that arm painfully behind her foe. Powerhouse's rounded buttocks flexed inside her tight blue briefs as she ignored the pain and flipped her sensuous body forward in a complete somersault, twisting free of the Fox's hold and smacking her fist straight into Jennifer's left breast like a hammer.

The heroine faltered, the left side of her chest going numb, her right heel skidding and missing the step she was standing on, as the agent punched her again in the jaw. Then Powerhouse cut loose with her eyebeams again at point blank range, this time at full power!

"Uuuhhhh!" the Fox cried out. It was like being caught in a firestorm. Her force shield collapsed under the onslaught, even as the impact of the energy beam threw her twenty feet, to slam painfully into the lower sidewalk. Her sexy little costume was smoking, her elbow length gloves hanging in tatters. Her skin felt red and was streaked with perspiration. For the first time in a long time, the fuchsia-clad heroine felt an adrenalin rush of fear, making her spine tingle and her pussy quiver weakly. Maybe she wasn't going to walk away from this one.

Stubbornly the Fox rose to her pretty knees, ignoring the damage to her costume. She could hear the seductive sound of Powerhouse's high heels as the woman slowly and smugly came down to her level. The crowd of spectators kept their distance, wary of those energy discharges from the agent's eyes, but the television cameras on the portico followed every move.

"Ready to throw in the towel, honeybunch?" Powerhouse sneered. "I have to say you were a disappointment. The high and mighty Fuchsia Fox! Booker said you'd be tougher than this." She reached down to slap the heroine across her face. As the Fox blocked the blow with her forearm, her opponent's shapely leg came up in a kick to her chest that sent the brunette sprawling onto her back. The Fox lay there dazed -- her head spinning, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to draw breath into her lungs.


***


In Falls Church, Barbara Wright was just about to climb into the bathtub when she heard the doorbell of her apartment ring. Muttering a few choice down-home Texas curse words, the gorgeous blonde pulled on her bathrobe and went to answer it.

"Is she here?" Martin Fletcher blurted frantically, pushing his way into the apartment.

"Is who here?" Barbara said, not bothering to clutch shut the open neckline of her robe. It was showing him a tantalizing peek at her lovely C-cups, their nipples flushing rosy and hard with surprise at the unexpected presence of a man. Not that Martin was paying any attention to them.

Martin ran his hand distractedly through his hair, not sure whether to say Jennifer or the Fox. "She... uh... she was upset, and I thought she might have called you."

Barbara shot him a puzzled look as she picked up her phone from the counter and checked her messages. "No... there's nothing like--" She broke off abruptly as she saw something, but instead of telling him what it was about, she crossed her living room and turned on her plasma television.

"... late breaking story," the channel 14 anchorman was saying. "Once again, we're not sure of our facts. We have been told that the Fuchsia Fox has made an unprovoked attack on a Homeland Security agent. The agent, code-named Powerhouse, was only making a routine inquiry. The two of them are now fighting on the steps of the Capitol Building." The anchorman looked at the image from the live camera feed projected on the screen behind him, and his lips twisted into a noticeable grin. "And if you can see what I'm seeing, it looks like the Fox is getting her little booty kicked."


***


Chapter 6 --


"Don't pass out yet, my little bitch," Powerhouse warned, gazing haughtily down at the Fuchsia Fox, lying on her back across the steps of the Capitol. "I could put these manacles on you right now, but first I'm gonna bitch-slap you a little bit for the cameras. I'm gonna show the world what a weak little girl you really are. Before I'm done you're gonna be crying. You're gonna hold out your wrists and beg me to take you in."

"Fat chance," the Fox panted, glaring up at her. You could nearly always count on a supervillain to gloat. Maybe that would buy her some time to catch her breath.

"Just look at those undernourished little titties!" the arrogant black girl scoffed, her attention turning to the Fox's tempting coconuts, thrusting upward like two small hills underneath her chest emblem. "How old are you, fourteen?" Standing astraddle of the nubile young heroine, Powerhouse grabbed hold of the brunette's halter top. The virtually indestructible Zumerian fabric stretched as she hoisted Jennifer's sylph-like body upright onto her knees again.

The Fox remained limp, marshaling her strength. Throughout this whole battle she had felt off, like a machine that was maladjusted and not running at top efficiency. It was clear to her by now that, along with the Registration Bill and all the other things on her mind, her fight with her husband had really shaken her self-confidence. She had been sloppy, missing easy shots, and her timing sucked. When she hit, she wasn't putting her full strength behind her punches. Even her force shield wasn't as powerful as it should be. Powerhouse was almost as strong as the Fox at her peak. If she didn't get her head together fast, she was going to get trounced!

"You're nothing but a little girl," Powerhouse taunted, speaking low so that the onlookers and the television cameras, who were still keeping to a safe distance, couldn't overhear. "I'm gonna have fun with you once I get you back to the lockup. Your sweet little pussy is gonna be all MINE!"

With one hand she grabbed a fistful of Jennifer's brunette hair, yanking her head back while her other hand slipped underneath the front of her halter top and gave her left boob a squeeze. The Fox's pulse raced suddenly at the unexpected contact with her bare flesh, her nipple growing hard under the caress of that smooth feminine hand.

"This is what a grown-up woman's breasts are like," Powerhouse said, removing her hand and cupping the underside of her own D-sized breast through the taut fabric of her white leotard. "Here, taste. Go ahead and lick them. Suck on them."

Still on her knees, the Fox found her face pressed irresistibly forward into her opponent's chest. She felt the round shapes of Powerhouse's hooters rub against her cheeks and lips, the pliant softness of her bare flesh where that wide oval cutout was stretched taut across the deep valley of her cleavage. The black girl's fingers tightened their grip on Jenn's hair, forcing her lips to touch her nipples, which were standing up now like top hats underneath the material of her costume.

"That's right, suck!" Powerhouse smirked, as her free hand pulled up the heroine's halter top, massaging her little coconuts. "Isn't that all you media sluts are good for?"

The Fox pulled her head back, heedless of the painful pressure of the bigger girl's grip in her hair. "Don't call me that," she hissed. "I'm warning you..."

"You don't like being called a media slut?" Powerhouse laughed tauntingly. "Get used to it, honeybunch. Once the Superhuman Registration Act passes, that's all you'll be. You, Wonder Woman, Supergirl ... your secret identities and weaknesses will be on record, and Dinsdale will be calling the shots. You'll all be his secret whores, with no choice but to submit to whatever services he demands. I personally can't wait to see Wonder Tits on her knees like this, tied up with her own lasso, sucking Dinsdale's cock."

"N-n-no!" the Fox stammered, struggling to stand. The very thought of Wonder Woman helpless and at Dinsdale's beck and call made her spine shiver.

"Still trying to resist, slut?" the black goddess sneered, drawing back her free hand. "Sounds like Miss High-and-Mighty could use a good bitch-slappin'."

The blow never landed. The Fox caught Powerhouse's wrist with her left hand even as she was rising to full height. The heroine knew now that she wasn't just fighting for herself -- she was fighting for Wonder Woman, Supergirl, and the entire sisterhood. She was also fighting for Martin and Barbara and all of her anonymous fans, yes even Oscar -- to justify all their support and their faith in her. Jennifer's right hand darted out and caught the black girl's left wrist, and for a long moment the two of them stood, struggling, as overpowering strength seemed to pour into the Fox's lissome limbs from her bracelets of Ishtar.

Powerhouse's eyes glowed as she let loose another eyebeam in the heroine's face. "AHHH!" Jennifer cried out, collapsing to her knees again, her sexy halter top torn and ragged around the edges.

"The trouble with you, little girl," the agent said, towering over her with an arrogant smirk, "is that you don't have what I have -- the killer instinct. You have to fight fair!"

As swift as her namesake, the Fox sprang upward, head-butting her opponent in the jaw. As Powerhouse staggered back, Jennifer's right hand latched around her throat and lifted her off the ground. Both of the agent's hands scrabbled frantically at the superheroine's iron grip, while her legs kicked at her lithe young body. But the Fox stood as immovable as granite with her force shield once again at full strength.

"But I have something you don't have," the Fox said, "-- love and compassion."

Powerhouse's eyelids fluttered as she ran out of oxygen. With a smirk almost of pity, the Fox relaxed her grip on her windpipe, instead grabbing the front of her leotard by that sexy oval cutout. Pivoting on one elegant, silken leg, the heroine flipped the super-agent over her head, ripping her leotard down the front as she did so. The black girl hit the sidewalk, rolled a couple of times, and lay gasping air into her lungs.

"This isn't happening!" Powerhouse yelled, scrambling to her knees, unheeding of the way her bare boobs thrust out through the rip in her costume. "You were defeated!" She charged at the Fox, her melons jiggling and her fists swinging.

Powerhouse led with her left again. The Fox sidestepped and spun around exactly as Barbara Wright had taught her, driving her ankle boot into the black girl's abdomen. Powerhouse sailed about five yards and landed flat on her ass.

"You were beaten!" the agent insisted. "I BEAT you, you over hyped slut!"

"No you didn't," the Fox said, picking up the pair of manacles from where the agent had dropped them. "I defeated myself, by worrying too much about that stupid Registration Act. But no more. I'm not afraid of it. I'm not afraid of Dinsdale, and I'm not afraid of YOU. Whatever happens, I'll face it like the daughter of Ishtar!" She strolled imperiously toward her fallen enemy with the manacles, her sleek legs and her pert little butt swaying gently.

"You're lying!" Powerhouse cried in panic, her eyes glowing red. "Wipe that smug look off your face, do you hear?" The Fox was almost on top of her as she cut loose with her eyebeams at full power.

This time the stunning super-lady's timing was flawless. To the onlookers, her alluring body seemed to twist itself effortlessly out of the path of the beams. Powerhouse recklessly swept her eyes in an upward arc after her, the twin ruby-colored shafts shifting toward orange and then white as she poured every ounce of energy she had into them. The Fox sprang overhead as nimbly as her namesake, allowing the rays to shoot harmlessly into the sky over the Capitol dome. Powerhouse dropped from exhaustion, having completely drained herself.

But before she did, the eyebeam she had released streaked past the dome another five hundred yards and hit the port engine of an airliner which was circling on its way in to Washington Airport. Even from the ground, the onlookers could see the engine flame out, causing the aircraft to wobble dangerously in its flight. The crowd on the Capitol steps screamed.

"It's coming down!" someone shouted. "It's going to crash!"

The Fuchsia Fox slapped the manacles onto Powerhouse's wrists. The plane was low enough now to make out the proud logo on its tail of a regional carrier mostly into commuter service. It definitely was coming down -- angling sharply downward over the Navy Yard and heading straight as an arrow for St. Elizabeth's Hospital! But a plane like that must weigh over a hundred tons fully loaded! She didn't have a prayer of catching something that big!

"Let it go, honeybunch," Powerhouse said weakly, with a note of triumph in her voice. "There's nothing you can do."

"I'm the daughter of Ishtar, dammit," Jennifer said as she launched herself into the air.

Overtaking the plane, the spunky superheroine threw herself under the port side wing and grabbed hold of the superstructure where the engine used to be. The emergency cutoff valves or whatever were doing their jobs, so at least it wasn't on fire. The metal was hot, but that was no problem for her force shield. Maybe she couldn't lift the whole plane by herself, but she could take the place of the engine, keeping the aircraft stable until the pilot was able to land it.

Straining every muscle in her delectable body, the Fox pushed upwards, supporting her side of the plane as it slowly and painfully leveled off. "Oh God," she hissed under her breath. "Supergirl makes this look so easy!" She could see faces pressed against the windows, gawking out at her in utter disbelief. She could feel the ragged edges of her damaged costume fluttering in the breeze and briefly wondered how much skin she was showing, but there was no time to worry about that. The last time she had attempted a stunt like this, it had been a military plane, and all she had to do was let it ditch in the river. This time the lives of over two hundred passengers were in her hands. She couldn't let it crash -- she simply COULDN'T!

Good -- they were past St. Elizabeth's now. Past Bolling AFB. Suddenly a shudder passed through the metal, and she heard a hydraulic whine as the ailerons kicked in. She felt the wing rise. The pilot was banking gently to the right, coming in to Washington Airport. Now she had an even more difficult problem. She had to support her wing without letting the whole aircraft flip over and sideslip straight into the Potomac River. It was taking every ounce of her strength.


***


Chapter 7 --


In Falls Church, Martin and Barbara were watching the news on the edge of their seats. Channel 14 was now broadcasting video from a traffic helicopter in the area of the airport. The runway was lined with the red lights of fire trucks and emergency vehicles as the reporter narrated what was going on. They watched the plane glide down its flight path, wobbling a little bit uncertainly as it touched down with a plume of smoke from its tires. The plane bounced once, twice, and then landed. The Channel 14 anchorman looked almost disappointed.

"SHE DID IT! SHE DID IT!" Barbara and Martin screamed, hugging and kissing one another, jumping up and down like maniacs. Barbara's bathrobe came open, but surprisingly neither of them noticed in their excitement.


Martin finally felt the blonde's gorgeous bare C-cups against the front of his shirt. He disengaged himself, his face turning red. "Sorry about that, major. Um... I guess I'd better be going..."

"Er, yeah, I guess," Barbara said, sheepishly clutching her robe shut. "What was it you wanted to see me about, anyway?"

Martin almost felt his brain buzz as he frantically tried to think of something. Plunging his hand into his jacket, he pulled out his cell phone. "Oh, geez, I'd better run; that's Jenn texting me now..."

"That's some lady," the major said wistfully, but now she was looking at the television set, which was replaying footage of the Fox's rescue of the airplane.

"She sure is," Martin agreed, thinking how lucky he was, out of all the men in the world, to be married to the world's hottest superheroine. He hurried out the apartment door, thinking how, after pulling off a stunt like that, Jennifer was going to be as high as a kite, and he was anxious to get home to her and take advantage of it.


***


When the Fuchsia Fox returned to the sixth floor condo she shared with her husband, Martin was waiting for her on the balcony. "Did you see it?" she said, gushing excitedly like a schoolgirl. "Did you see what I did?"

"I sure did!" Martin said, wrapping his arms around her lissome form. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks!" the stunning superheroine replied, flushing with pleasure. Her whole body felt keyed up and almost intoxicated. "I never had a clue I could actually pull it off, but somehow it just seemed like the only thing to do, you know? It just worked out!"

"I never had any doubts," Martin said, kissing her. "Hey Angel, I need to apologize..."

"No... no you don't," Jenn stammered. "It was my fault..."

"That thing I said about you and Oscar..." Martin insisted. "I should have known it was a stupid thing to say. I know I've been thinking outside the box lately, and with all these crazy things we've been up to with Dora and Michelle, sometimes my imagination runs away with me. But I... I just love you so much. More than anything, I want you to be happy..."

"Oh darling!" Her full lips locked with his, kissing him, kissing his face and his neck. Grabbing his shirt, she pulled it up over his head without bothering with the buttons and tossed it aside, still kissing his bare chest all over. "Quick! Take your pants off!" she moaned.

"Angel, it's freezing out here," Martin protested.

"My love will keep you warm," she replied confidently, fumbling with his belt and tugging his trousers down. Removing his shoes, she stood up and wrapped her strong, slender arms around his abdomen. There was a strange twinkle in her brown eyes. "Tonight we're joining the Mile High Club."

"But we don't have an air--" Martin started to say, and then his voice box constricted with heart-stopping terror because the two of them were flying straight up, leaving their balcony far, far below. Dressed in nothing but his boxers and his socks, his cock sprang upright from the adrenalin rush, while his arms tightened around his wife's narrow waist, hands clenching her pert bottom. Wind whispered over his bare flesh, but Jennifer was right about the cold. Somehow she seemed to be extending her force shield around him to protect him.

After the initial shock, the sensation of flying was unbelievably pleasant. Smiling, the Fox gradually released her bear hug, still keeping a firm grip on him with one hand as she angled their ascent so that they could see the lights of Washington. Familiar landmarks were recognizable, albeit from a far-from-familiar perspective. And still they rose higher, holding hands as though they were dancing on thin air.

"Do you have any idea how wet I am right now?" the Fox whispered shyly, taking Martin's other hand and guiding it between her silky thighs to stroke against the front of her briefs.

Martin groaned out loud. She really WAS wet down there! His fingers rubbed her moist pussy lips through the fabric, causing her to squirm with bliss. He took her in his arms, flying God only knew how many hundreds of feet above the ground, and undid the rear strap of her halter top, allowing it to flutter in the gentle wind, still held to her by its strap around her neck. Her bare breasts felt soft and pliant as took each of them in his mouth in turn, pinching her perky nipples between his teeth, while at the same time his hand slipped down inside her pants, fingers feeling their way into her juicy snatch. Working by touch, he splayed apart the petals of her labia, finding and gently rubbing her hard, swollen little rosebud.

"Oh wow!" the Fox gasped, arching her back and rubbing her right leg lightly up and down her man's thighs. Spasms of sheer delight were beginning to chase on another up and down and in and out of her throbbing womanhood. "Do me, darling! Please do me!"

"Your wish is my command." Martin tugged her fuchsia boy-shorts down over her hips, and Jenn briefly curled her elegant legs together so that he could more easily slide the skimpy garment over her ankles. The fabric was wet, redolent with the musky aroma of her lady parts. At a loss for someplace to put them, he playfully crammed them into her mouth. Jenn clamped her teeth over them, using her free hand to help him ease off his boxer shorts.

Their two bodies entwined again in a silent ballet as Jennifer transferred her briefs to her free hand and kissed her lover on the mouth. His cock rose up against her cleft, showing solid proof of his physical need for her. A moment later his iron hard rod was sliding gently in between her submissively parted legs, penetrating into her warm, inviting coosh.

"Oh yes, darling, make me cum!" the Fox cried, throwing back her head in ecstasy. She could feel his strong arms encircling her, his hot mouth on her throat, her soft shoulders, and her breasts. Every touch of his lips on her skin left tendrils of erotic electricity that made her whole body quiver with desire. The feel of him inside her was indescribable. He couldn't thrust very hard in this position, because floating in midair, there was nothing to brace against. But together they instinctively fell into a sort of rhythm using the resistance of their own bodies, until they became nothing less than a single animal, pulsating with lust.

Suddenly the Fox felt herself cumming onto Martin's thrusting tool. Almost simultaneously she felt her husband's member respond with a gush of molten hot jizz inside her womb. "OH YESSS!" she cried, as the stars seemed to explode in her head.

A feeling of complete weightlessness took them both by surprise, and then they were falling, their bodies spinning apart out of contact as gravity took over and they plunged helplessly toward the Earth. Jennifer's heart leapt into her throat as she saw the panic in Martin's face. Instantly she focused her mind once again on her bracelets, mentally reactivating her flying power and diving after him. She felt the grateful clutch of his arms around her waist as she caught him.

"It's all right, I've got you," she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest. "I'm so sorry about that. For a moment there I forgot where we were."

"That's understandable," he gasped. "Can we go back to the ground now? Slowly?"

"Sure thing," Jennifer smiled. "Hold on tight. What happened to your shorts?"

"I think they're in West Virginia somewhere."


***


Epilogue --


"Bad news, boss," said Lt. Booker, stepping into the office a week later. "The sponsors have withdrawn the Superhuman Registration Bill without a vote."

"Did you expect anything else?" Dinsdale said bitterly.

The day after the Fuchsia Fox's daring rescue of the airliner, a tourist couple had come forward to state that they had been witnesses at the Jefferson Memorial. They claimed that Powerhouse had been the one who had made an unprovoked attack on the Fox. Dinsdale had officially repudiated the charge, but Channel 3 aired actual video which a park ranger had taken with his cell phone.

As if that weren't bad enough, charges were filed against Powerhouse herself for reckless endangerment in accidentally downing the airliner. The airline sued the government for damages. Dinsdale tried to gloss over it as one of the unavoidable hazards of engaging in battle with dangerous superpowered individuals, but there were about a hundred people who had been on the steps of the Capitol that night and were ready to sign on as witnesses. Dinsdale managed to get her off with probation.

Meanwhile, the footage of the Fox saving the airliner had been rebroadcast on every media outlet in the Washington area, not to mention all over the country. Public opinion polls were running 85 per cent against the Superhuman Registration Bill, even though President Trump had endorsed it.

"That's all right," Dinsdale said with a crooked smile. "President Trump might even be willing to issue an Executive Order. There's more than one way to skin a fox..."


THE END>>>>
by Centurion

(Your feedback is very much appreciated!)
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
scwank
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Good stuff! Looking forward to the rematch.
batgirl_brandy_wayne
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Great story but just FYI, there is already one story on here that is entitled fox hunt. Wasn't sure if you was aware or not.
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flirty_but_nice
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scwank wrote:Good stuff! Looking forward to the rematch.
As am I! Centurion and I have been going back and forth brainstorming / debating such a thing. No viable plot has yet been developed, though.
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
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flirty_but_nice
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batgirl_brandy_wayne wrote:Great story but just FYI, there is already one story on here that is entitled fox hunt. Wasn't sure if you was aware or not.
I was not aware of that.

That being said, though, this title is Fuchsia Fox : "Fox Hunt", so there is a bit of a difference, I assume. :)
Last edited by flirty_but_nice 7 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
krispin21
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Great! Thank you so much, what a gift!

I do love the fight, specially the part in wich Fuchsia Fox is outmatched by her larger rival. I hope in a rematch.
But I like the whole story. Wonderful the affair Fox-Barbara-Mike-Oscar.

Thanks again!
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flirty_but_nice
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Hey guys. Centurion got back to me on the feedback I shared from all of you. He wants me to thank you all for the feedback, that it means a lot to him.

Also, regarding the possibility of writing up a rematch between the Fox and Powerhouse, he said please do share any suggestions you might have. To that, I would say, either post your suggestions / desires here, or private message it to me. In either case, I will then forward your addition feedback to Centurion for his contemplation. :)
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
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I like the idea of overpowering and then depowering - somehow finding a way to rip off the bracelets, one at a time.
dodosony
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It seems that Jennifer eventually comes across one of her enemies that owned superior power that equal or even stronger than Fuchsia Fox had during the fight with Powerhouse! In my point of view, in general, there is one principle that made a superheroine's characteristic sexier — a super-heroine such as Fuchsia Fox or Supergirl is just merely a girl who rely on their superior power to beat down her enemies in the battle.

In the fight with Powerhouse, Fuchsia Fox encounters her enemy with same or higher power level, and we can find Fox struggle desperately and winning her battle with all of her efforts. In other words, in previous stories, Fuchsia Fox made vicious battle with her enemies because Fox's power is much stronger. If her enemies have the same level of power like Fox or Jennifer lost her power (e.g. EMP cannon in “someone is watching you" or Mind Control in" Temptation Eyes" ). Then, Fuchsia Fox is no longer a superheroine, but fight as Barbara said, “like a wuss or amateur ballerina.” That’s why Barbara holds an opinion that even a superheroine needs to train her killer instinct in case of the fight an enemy who has an equal or stronger power than her. I think the role of “powerhouse” is present a brilliant idea, which shows the possible that even transformed to a superheroine, Jennifer still has one or more weaknesses that could be taken benefits by her enemies to beat her down in the battle. Also, according to the end part of the story, I guess Mr. Centurion may let Fuchsia Fox’s Zumerian technology was hacked, partly or even entirely revealed in the further story. No matter how the story happens, I am pretty sure Mr. Centurion will put her cute Fox in even danger situation than this one.

Here is one idea in my mind: Fox's bracelet was robbed by force and she lost all of her power items due to the secret of all her power bracelet was revealed by the government-owned supernatural institution, and Fox is rescued by a visitor Superman like a male superhero ( let's call him Eason). Eason is not just a superhero, but also he is a handsome and charming guy with the same age as Jeniffer. Of course, Eason made a passion sexual intercourse with Fox after he rescues Jeniffer. Martin is a little bit jealous of this guy because Martin thinks he is a normal human being.

In fact, the reason why made Centurion’s story so brilliant, creative and sexy is that he combines ideas of ryona and peril from Western and Eastern elements. For example, in most Japanese based superheroine/Mahou Shoujo (Magical Girl) stories, tentacles are necessary for all this type of stories. Also, the idea of power item (source of energy) was originally from Wonder Woman series, and a power-belt like an item will provide superpower to an average girl and made her became as a superheroine after transformation. We can find those elements in Centurion’s stories in the past few years (like tentacles in “girls night out” ), and I think Centurion also do his own creation work that made everything to next level and beyond any type of stories and ideas on the market.

I really appreciate Mr. Centurion’s generosity because his high-quality story of Fuchsia Fox can be easily uploaded on electronic publishers and take charge for reading. Instead, Mr.Centurion choose to share his brilliant stories with us in free (exclusive on this forum), and I think anyone of us who read and love Fuchsia Fox’s adventure owes Mr.Centurion a big favor. I suggest Mr. Centurion may considering published his Paypal account as a way of to receive a donation from the audience to thanks his work. A gift is not a mandatory obligation but works as an appreciate and affirm to writer’s hard and creative work.


Once again, thanks so much for your brilliant story and cannot wait to see Fox’s next adventure as soon as possible. :D
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flirty_but_nice
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dodosony wrote:It seems that Jennifer eventually comes across one of her enemies that owned superior power that equal or even stronger than Fuchsia Fox had during the fight with Powerhouse! In my point of view, in general, there is one principle that made a superheroine's characteristic sexier — a super-heroine such as Fuchsia Fox or Supergirl is just merely a girl who rely on their superior power to beat down her enemies in the battle.
....
Once again, thanks so much for your brilliant story and cannot wait to see Fox’s next adventure as soon as possible. :D
Dodosony, wow, what amazing feedback! I just know that Centurion will be thrilled to read your feedback. I've wasted no time in forwarding it to him!

Thank you so much for taking the time for such a detailed response. :x
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
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flirty_but_nice
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flirty_but_nice wrote:
dodosony wrote:It seems that Jennifer eventually comes across one of her enemies that owned superior power that equal or even stronger than Fuchsia Fox had during the fight with Powerhouse! In my point of view, in general, there is one principle that made a superheroine's characteristic sexier — a super-heroine such as Fuchsia Fox or Supergirl is just merely a girl who rely on their superior power to beat down her enemies in the battle.
....
Once again, thanks so much for your brilliant story and cannot wait to see Fox’s next adventure as soon as possible. :D
Dodosony, wow, what amazing feedback! I just know that Centurion will be thrilled to read your feedback. I've wasted no time in forwarding it to him!

Thank you so much for taking the time for such a detailed response. :x
Centurion's reply ...

"Maybe you could post this for me:

It's true that I get ideas from all kinds of sources. The Fox is basically a combination of the original Ms. Marvel and Wonder Woman. Personally, I like to see the heroine kick ass, which is why in general she's a little more powerful than her opponents. In order to beat her, they have to be clever and catch her at a disadvantage, but at the same time it's plausible for her to break free of their trap and turn the tables on them. Of course there are some occasions when her opponent is her equal or tougher, so that she has to win through cleverness or sheer determination.

I appreciate all suggestions for story ideas, and I try to take them into account, although I do have a definite vision of my own. Right now I don't have any plans to introduce a male superhero into the Washington area, let alone one as powerful as the Fox who might dominate her sexually. Although later on down the road, who knows? I may change my mind.
"
xoxo
Jenn (aka Flirty)
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