Women's desire and Liora’s Perspective

The tension in the air shifted as the three Endless sisters—

Death, Desire, and Delirium—walked into the heart of the gathering, standing beside Kal with knowing smiles.

They were no strangers to this game.

Desire in particular thrived on the tension, on the undercurrent of emotions that surged through the goddesses, the queens, and the cosmic beauties in the room.

She ran a lazy hand down Kal's arm, golden eyes flickering with amusement.

"Oh, look at them," she purred.

"Planning, plotting, whispering."

Kal chuckled. "They do this every time."

Death smirked, her dark eyes gleaming with mirth.

"And yet, you still think you'll win?"

Kal's slight grin was nothing short of arrogant.

"I never lose."

Delirium giggled, skipping ahead and twirling in a swirl of color.

"Ohhh, but they are sooo serious about this! It's adorable!"

" Look at all their pretty, pretty faces, all determined to make sure your thingy stops working for at least a week."

Kal groaned. "Deli—"

"Your liiiiiittle Superman," she teased, wiggling her fingers.

Desire let out a delighted laugh.

"Oh, I like this plan. A woman's jealousy is such a delicious thing."

The Ultimate War of Passion can start at any moment

...

A soft ripple of cosmic energy pulsed through the room, the fabric of reality shifting slightly as the greatest beauties of the multiverse closed in around Kal-El.

Their mere movements were works of art.

The sway of full, divine ripe peach hips, the smooth rhythm of bare feet gliding over the marble floor, the rise and fall of soft, perfectly shaped breasts beneath silk robes.

Their beauty was at a scale that it was overwhelming to describe in mere words.

Every curve, every motion was designed to entice, to dominate, to claim any man.

And Kal was no exception. As he also lusts after and the beauties also wants to see this scene.

However, He was the apex, the hunter among goddesses, the unchallenged sovereign of love and war.

..

Hera stood at the forefront, her lush, full figure exuding an air of divine authority.

Her emerald eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms beneath her magnificent breasts, the slight press of her arms making their heavenly fullness even more pronounced.

The faintest smirk curled her lips.

"So," she said, her voice a smooth, royal purr.

 "You went to get the Endless sisters."

Kal's piercing blue gaze flickered with amusement as he looked at her.

"Yeah," he said, his voice rich and deep.

"What can I say? They can't live without me."

Hera let out a scoff, but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable.

 Jealousy? Possessiveness? Admiration? Maybe all of them.

Aphrodite took a slow, deliberate step forward, her golden, goddess-crafted body moving with pure seduction.

The sheer fabric of her robes barely concealed her impossibly voluptuous curves, the perfect balance of soft femininity and divine perfection.

Her radiant skin shimmered in the hall's celestial glow, the sway of her wide, golden-ratio hips hypnotic with every step.

She raised a single delicate finger to her full lips, tracing them lazily, suggestively.

"How kind of you," she whispered.

Her golden eyes locked onto Kal's as her voice dropped to a sultry murmur.

"But tell me, Kal... do you have the energy left to survive what's coming?"

A slow, knowing chuckle rumbled from Kal.

He tilted his head, letting his gaze sweep over her body, seeing the way her bare feet shifted against the cool marble, the way the curves of her thick thighs pressed together, the teasing glimpse of creamy, flawless skin beneath her robes.

Then, with that iconic handsome Superman smile, he answered:

"I always have enough."

Aphrodite inhaled softly, her lips parting slightly, her fingers briefly brushing over the heavy swell of her own breasts, as if already imagining the challenge ahead.

From the side, Hestia, the Eternal Flame, gave a warm, knowing smile.

She stood with an effortless grace, the flickering warmth of primordial fire reflecting in her dark, liquid-gold eyes.

Her voice was soft, yet carried an undeniable weight.

"Overconfidence has led to your downfall before, Kal."

Kal's smirk didn't waver, but Hestia's words sparked something in the goddesses around him.

A silent, mutual understanding.

Tonight, they would not hold back.

A throaty chuckle broke the moment as Demeter, the Goddess of Harvest and Fertility, stepped forward.

If Aphrodite was the pinnacle of seduction, then Demeter was the embodiment of indulgence.

Her mature, impossibly curvaceous figure moved like a feast for the eyes, her sheer robes struggling to contain the voluptuous swells of her heavy boobs and wide, motherly hips.

With a playful tilt of her head, she let her fingers trace slow, lazy circles over her exposed collarbone, as if contemplating his worth.

"Perhaps tonight," she said, voice rich with promise, "we shall see if you are still as indomitable as you claim."

The words hung in the air, and a knowing wave of heat rippled through the gathered goddesses.

Kal felt it.

Felt their desire.

Felt their lust to conquer him, to break him—

—and their certainty that they would fail.

Then, Lois Lane stepped forward.

The Queen of Earthly Beauty.

The one who had started it all.

She had no godly heritage.

No divine birthright.

And yet, she stood among goddesses and warriors, queens and celestial deities, and not one could outshine her.

Her mature, commanding beauty had only deepened with time, her presence alone enough to command submission from lesser beings.

Arms crossed beneath the sensual curve of her full, heavy soft juicy melons, she rolled her eyes.

"Alright, ladies, enough with the dramatic speeches."

She exhaled, tapping a bare foot against the polished floor, making no effort to hide the confident arch of her delicate toes, the smooth perfection of her shapely legs.

"Let's just admit we all want to wreck him and get on with it."

A stunned silence followed.

Then—

A burst of laughter.

Even Desire of the Endless—the very concept of hunger and lust itself—let out a delighted, mocking gasp.

She placed a hand over her heart, her voice dripping with playful condescension.

"Oh, Kal," she sighed dramatically, her bare shoulders rolling back, emphasizing the soft yet powerful curves of her flawless body.

"They talk about you like you're some kind of prey."

Kal's icy blue gaze gleamed, taking in the assembled goddesses, warriors, and seductresses.

Lois. Hera. Aphrodite.

Diana. Hippolyta. Nyx.

Kara. Lara. Hestia.

Talia. Selina. Harley.

All of them.

They wanted him.

They wanted him broken.

They wanted to overwhelm him with their beauty, their strength, their desire.

And yet—

Kal smirked.

"Oh, I think we all know," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerously rich, spine-tingling depth, a voice that reverberated beyond time and space—

"I'm the hunter. Always."

The words sent a collective shiver through the hall.

Every goddess, every warrior, every cosmic beauty felt the challenge in his voice, in his stance, in the way he owned them without effort.

Their lips parted. Their breaths hitched.

Their bodies reacted.

The battle was about to begin.

And they all knew one thing—

No matter how many of them tried…

None would truly win.

Because in the end, they were already his.

From the shadows, Liora watched.

She had observed Kal-El from afar, but seeing him here—seeing him surrounded by these impossibly powerful and beautiful women—was something else entirely.

She had studied history, had learned of gods and kings who took many lovers, who ruled with strength and charisma.

But Kal-El was different.

He was not just a conqueror.

He was desired.

Not because he was the strongest. Not because he was the most powerful.

But because he was him.

Because he touched something deeper in these women, something even divine beings could not understand.

She saw it in the way Hera's eyes softened ever so slightly despite her firm words.

She saw it in the way Aphrodite's lips curved, full of love as much as lust.

She saw it in how Death, of all beings, lingered close to him, her fingers ghosting over his wrist, as if tethering herself to him.

And she saw it in Desire's gaze—hungry, worshipful, utterly captivated.

What was it about him?

What was Kal-El, truly?

For a being of such power, he was not feared.

He was loved.

And in that moment, Liora realized something that sent a thrill through her very soul.

She had believed no one, not even herself, could ever hope to truly control Kal-El.

But that was the wrong way of looking at it.

It was not about controlling him.

It was about belonging to him.

As all these women did.

As she, one day, might too.

Her lips parted as she whispered to herself, "Kal-El… you are unlike anything I have ever known."

And the gathering continued, the night stretching ahead with endless possibilities.

And as the goddesses prepared for their "battle," one thing was certain—

The Golden God would not emerge unscathed. Would he?

To Be Continued...