She thinks about him all the time,

the man who will be her Superhero.

His hair is brown, dark brown,

or sandy, maybe even blonde.

His eyes are hazel,

sometimes green,

but then she sees them as blue.

He’s tall,

lean, muscular, broad-shouldered,

or perhaps slight of build.

Superman could come in any shape or form,

but he is still Superman.

His heart is open, warm, inviting.

The arms that hold her won’t just hold her,

they will engulf her,

envelop her,

and swallow her up in their loving protection.

And when she’s naughty,

or… just because,

his wide palm will pepper her skin,

staining her bottom with a deep, pink blush.

The ribbon, or cord, or rope,

that bind her wrists,

will hold her fast,

and the light-stealing blindfold will heighten her senses,

as he leads her down the path of their dark, delicious, erotic journey.

In the deep quiet of the night she sees him,

wandering through the shadowy twilight of her mind…

…when her eyes blink open he haunts her days,

and dogs her steps.

Her search for Superman continues.