Peter Meets Starfire

Washing his costume against a wet-worn boulder in the river, Peter decided he hated the Savage Land. Sure, the dinosaurs were cool—hungry, yet cool—but there was nothing to swing off of, he couldn’t get a good hot dog anywhere, and there was mud. Lots and lots of mud for a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to fall in and get smeared all over his costume until he could barely breathe through it. And what was the point of making a suit out of Egyptian cotton then?

At least the Savage Land offered a lot of privacy. He was stripped naked as he waded in the river, the clothes he’d taken off slung over his shoulders as he washed each item one by one. This day couldn’t get any worse.

“Oh, hello!”

Peter jerked his head up. Starfire herself—Kory Anders—was walking down the riverbank. Her gleaming red hair hung down her back, fastened with a clasp at the back of her neck. She wore a low-cut, clinging blouse with her magnificent breasts obviously bare underneath. Hip-hugging double-knit slacks emphasized the ripeness of her figure. She was going barefoot, her toes managing to look delicate and poised even as they squished through the mud and sand that flanked the river. 

“Kory!” Peter squeaked, trying as best he could to hide his body behind the boulder that stood between the two of them. It came up to chest-height, but he still felt very exposed. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s warm,” Kory said, seeming to completely miss his point about them being in a dinosaur-infested wasteland. “I thought I could do with a swim. How’s the water?”

“It’s fine,” Peter said. “But what are you…”

Stepping out into the water up to her calves, Kory dug her toes into the riverbed and let out a little coo of delight, curling them and arching her back to drive her breasts more fully into the thin fabric that separated her from his gaze. “Yes! This will do quite nicely!”

Reaching down to her waist, she grasped the hem of her blouse and began drawing it upward. It seemed to take a long time to trail over the ripely rounded torso of her statuesque body, lingering on her curvaceous breasts as if the material were reluctant to stop touching them, the only sound the babbling river and the flutter of the wind flailing against the slack in Kory’s now disembodied garment as she drew it up, up, and over her cleavage. As the hem finally drew off her breasts as smoothly as a whisper, they jiggled slightly coming down from the slight uplift they’d been pulled into by her disrobing, something about the simple motion speaking of their complete reality, their heft and their perkiness, the absolute perfection of their plump roundness. 

Then she bent to get herself out of her pants, going one foot after another, lifting one leg and drawing it out of her pants at a time. Peter was absurdly focused on the smallest of details—her toes trickling through the pantleg, tracing water against the canvas of the fabric, the flash of red as her bush came briefly into view, the creamy orangeness of her voluptuous hips, her lush, strong thighs, and the long, lean legs that threshed with stirring muscles beneath the taut skin. Then she turned and deposited her clothing—she wore no underwear, of course—on a dry slab of river rock, bending over to do so. 

Peter was treated to the sight of her ass—crisp and full, the dip between the cheeks seeming to go impossibly deep into the shadowed cleft that led down to the vale of her womanhood, itself obliquely but really seen, a sweet and succulent fruit cupped delicately between her firm thighs. The glimmer of its vibrant red hair drew the eye despite Kory’s girlish innocence, her exuberant enthusiasm that would make a man almost reluctant to see her sexually if it weren’t for just how beautiful, how soul-stirringly erotic the mere sight of her naked, naturalistic body was.

In fact, her face did so much to put a capper on her body that his gaze was drawn to that just as much, if not more so, than to the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see her au natural. Her all-green eyes, with the intrigue of her wickedly-curved eyebrows, were like gems of total purity, the downright virginal look in them fueling a pleasingly perverse hunger inside of Peter. He had to remind himself of the many eligible bachelors she’d been linked to, her unashamedly public attitude towards sex that had made her the darling of any journalist looking for a licentious quote. The impression she gave of youthful innocence was a bewitching glamour, but it made her sexuality all the more appealing. She was, to quote a nowadays unfortunate saying, a lady in the streets and a freak in the sheets.

As she proved now by turning to him, totally unembarrassed, indeed seemingly proud of the well-trimmed aura of pubic hair modestly hiding her groin from him. Without any adieu, as if unaware of any effect she might have on him, she waded out into the water, oohing and awing as its chill frisked her sun-warm body. Each step she took was a spectacle, drawing her long, sleek legs through the water. The river was as clear as crystal as it lapped at her toned thighs and ran briskly between her legs, up to her sex, provoking from her the most adorable and yet most erotic little sigh that Peter had ever heard.

She arrived at the boulder that Peter was washing his clothes at, her great height putting her up to her waist in the water, while it came up to Peter’s sternum. “Need any help?” she asked, picking up a forgotten, waterlogged glove from the boulder and wringing it out charitably. “You have such a lovely costume, with such nice colors. It’d be a shame to see it ruined. Maybe I could rig up a clothesline for you to hang your clothes on once you’re done washing them. I don’t imagine it’d take very long for them to dry in this heat!”

Peter was, of course, speechless. Kory’s bounteous tits were practically right next to him, close enough to touch, and what was worse, the otherwise smoothly flowing river hit the boulder he was standing at hard, sending a little white hail of frothing water up into the air. It landed on Kory’s chest in a weak shower, the small raindrops like glimmering jewels on her deeply heaving breasts, drawing the eye even more irresistibly. Even with Kory’s jade eyes staring him right in the face, Peter was hard-pressed not to lower his gaze just a little and soak in the bounding of her cleavage up and down with each calm breath. For God’s sake, he was practically on eye-level with them; he had to crane his neck to face her anyway!

“Oh,” Kory said, looking down over the rock. Peter knew what she’d find. Even beneath the censoring waters, an erection of the size he was sporting would be easily discernible. “You’re quite aroused. You should masturbate. Think you can wait until the clothes are drying? It seems like it would be a fine way to pass the time.”