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🕑 Added 2017-11-06 18:39:27 +0000 UTCThe Balkan Mountains. Winter.
The rescue had been a success. Diana was no longer a captive of the League of Assassins, waiting to be traded for Ares’s blessing. Her new circumstances weren’t much better. Batman had been wounded rescuing her. They had no transportation except their feet and a blizzard was bearing down on them. Diana didn’t dare try to fly Bruce out in his condition. He’d never survive the turbulence.
But at least now, Diana could decide her own destiny. She’d take the slimmest chance if it allowed her that.
The gods did her one better, though. Eventually she found a small cottage. A trapper’s hut, abandoned with the season over, but only needing a little work to be brought to life. There were even a few furs left behind, evidently too much for last year’s load.
She stripped Bruce, bandaged him, and covered him in a fur blanket once she’d lit a fire in the fireplace. He was past consciousness at that point, but from all his vitals, Diana saw that he was on the road to recovery.
Now, to attend to herself. Diana stripped naked, hanging her wet armor to dry over the fire, and wrapped herself in one of the furs. There was a meager supply of logs in the woodpile. She guessed the trapper who owned this cottage had thought ahead to have the necessary ingredients for a fire ready to go, in case his next visit should be too frostbitten for him to want to go out and gather much more.
After sprucing up the cottage a bit and taking inventory, Diana crossed her legs in front of the fire and closed her eyes to meditate. There was nothing more she could do for Bruce at the moment besides trust to his own stamina, and she had to let go of the lingering trauma of her captivity and the flight from danger. With one last look at Bruce’s resting form, she lost herself in her own calm and tried to discern the future from the hazy vagaries of her own thoughts..
***
Fifteen years later, Bruce eased the Cessna in a low-slung arc over Paradise Island, the controls gently responsive to his slightest touch, the air smooth and receptive to the path he charted. There seemed to be no turbulence when he flew to Themyscira, never any rainstorms or even much cloud cover. It was a joy to fly through its airspace, and he indulged in it, giving Diana and the twins a daring view of the island as he dropped the plane down over the treetops, though he respectfully climbed to give the Amazon city itself a wide berth. Not many there would appreciate being buzzed by such a strange, alien craft.
Coming in for a landing at last, he was once again pleasantly surprised by the smooth, even buttery cut of the plane’s pontoons into the calm waters of Themyscira. It was like slipping into a bath, the plane barely quivering as it lost speed and embraced the water, stopping just short of the pier. Diana swept open the door and threw out the rope. It wasn’t her lasso, but she easily managed to catch a piling and pull the ship in close enough for them to disembark.
She started corralling Tom and Elissa onto dry land as Bruce wound down the plane. He considered using the radio to call Dick for a last-minute check-up on Gotham, but if he started that, he’d never be able to give up asking for updates. It was an important time here on Themyscira. Tom and Elissa were receiving their crowns, and would soon be joining the family business, as Dick, Jason, and Tim had before them. The week would also see their birthdays, as well as his and Diana’s anniversary. It was important to commemorate and celebrate all those things. More important than salving his own paranoia over how things were going in his absence.
Gathering what luggage he could manage, he stepped out onto the pier, only to have it taken from him by two large Amazons. Hippolyta and her court were there to greet them, and already Bruce could see attention growing on the shore. The children of various Amazons that had followed Diana’s example were stopping their games to check out the combination of a landing plane and a royal procession.
“Mr. Wayne,” Hippolyta greeted, inclining her head slightly. “Daughter. Let’s see you all to your rooms.”
***
His and Diana’s room was as lushly appointed as he’d come to expect from the Amazons. Not ostentatious, but simply prepared for any eventuality. There was a shaving kit in the bathroom, but no bidet. It was a type of luxury both he and Diana appreciated, although he admitted that all the convenience was not so far off from pampering. Hell, back in Gotham, he had a butler. He wasn’t one to talk too much about self-sufficiency.
It had been a long plane ride, and they’d barely gotten everything unpacked and transferred to its proper container before Tom and Elissa were too tired to go on. They, of course, would never admit such a thing, but Diana was firm. They weren’t just training with Black Canary anymore. They’d be going through Amazon training now, and they’d need all the rest they can get. They were at least mature enough to see the wisdom in that, and went to bed even though it was only evening. As Bruce had often thought, the sheer peacefulness of Themyscira had a soporific effect on those who were used to tension.
“Just us now,” Diana said, her voice leading.
Bruce looked over the luggage one last time. “Did we get all the bags?”
“You’re asking if one of us forgot something?”
“Just checking. I think I should go to the plane to make sure.”
“Why?” Diana asked, the lust in her voice now shifting to suspicion. She didn’t mistrust him, but she did have a thing about being lied to, or told less than the whole truth.
“I brought an anniversary gift and stowed it away from the other luggage,” Bruce explained. “Think you can manage without me while I go get it? I’m just a little too paranoid to want to leave it on the plane.”
Diana indulged him with a permissive hand gesture. “But if I’m asleep when you get back, it’s your loss.”
***
Hippolyta felt a funny fluttering in the pit of her stomach. She didn't dare think the thoughts that the warm ache in her cunt made her want to think. Instead, she tried not to think of anything. Then she tried to think normal thoughts.
Bruce's coming over, she thought. How nice. I haven't seen him for over a year. Why don't you calm down, Hippolyta?
Suddenly she glanced down at her naked body. I've got to put something on!
She went into her bedroom and tried to decide what to wear. But it was as if she were paralyzed. She didn't know how long she stood looking at her clothes, trying to decide what to put on. But it was too long. The doorbell rang and she was still naked.
Quickly she matched her short purple toga off the hanger and dipped into it. Her heart pounded and she felt very wicked and guilty. The hem of the toga came down only just beneath the round moons of her ass. The top of it barely closed over the mounds of her breasts. It wasn't something a woman should wear to greet her son-in-law.
The doorbell rang again and she raced to answer it. "Hi," she said breathlessly as she opened the door.
"I heard you wanted to see me before I had settled in for the evening. It would seem you’re in luck.”
Hippolyta shut the door behind him. All of a sudden she felt stark naked in the toga. Her son-in-law being a man, he couldn't help glancing at her bulging breasts and her long legs. Feeling suddenly shy, Hippolyta tugged self-consciously at the hem of the toga, tying to make it cover her naked thighs. It was useless.
"Well!" she said, very nervous. "Let me run in and put something else on. You sort of... caught me by surprise."
"Don't change on my account," Bruce said.
He shook his head slightly as if to break free his gaze from the sight of Hippolyta's erect nipples sliding around under the thin cloth of her toga.
"Well, if you don't mind..." she purred warmly, instantly ashamed of the obvious sensuality she had let creep into her voice.
She knew he was seeing her as a woman. She had hardly given him a choice in the matter. But she didn't half mind. Bruce was a very handsome man. He had a rough masculine glint in his keen eyes.
"Could I offer you something?" she asked, trying to break the spell both of them were in. "A beer? A drink?"
"Beer's fine."
Hippolyta went into the kitchen to get him a beer. She could feel his eyes on the backs of her bare legs. Again her nerves made her want to tug down the hem of the short toga. She returned with his beer. As she bent over to hand it to him, she caught his eyes on the upper slopes of her swaying breasts.
Briefly her gaze caught his and held it, smoldering. Then she quickly turned away and went across the room to the record player.
"I’m glad Diana’s allowing me to borrow you for the moment,” Hippolyta said. “It’s hard to believe she has no present need of you.”
“She’s always been one for delayed gratification,” Bruce said.
Hippolyta took a record out of its jacket and bent over to put it on the turntable. She could feel the hem of her toga tilt up, exposing her entire naked ass.
Bruce couldn't take his eyes off it. Her smoothly curving ass was round as it was pert. He could see the glistening wet seam of her cunt below them. His cock began to thump, and his collar felt too tight.
Finally Hippolyta stood straight again and turned back to him. She smirked coyly at him.
"When you’re immortal, all gratification is delayed. When the opportunity comes, you want to indulge yourself instantly.”
Bruce looked very embarrassed. He sipped his beer nervously. Hippolyta knew it was because he had seen her nudity. She too felt a little ashamed of herself. But it was enormously exciting. As she crossed the room toward him again, she glanced down at his crotch and saw the thickening power there. She sat down next to him on the sofa.
"So," she said casually. "Tell me what you've been doing with yourself."
Bruce made a disjointed attempt to tell her what he had been doing. Hippolyta pretended to listen. She stared at him and crossed her long bare legs. The skirt of her toga hiked up again, showing off the tops of her tawny thighs and her hips. He tried not to look.
Hippolyta felt a tiny itch on her back and began rubbing it against the sofa. Arching her back made her breasts thrust out and her nipples protrude even more. Also, it loosened the flimsy cloth sash that held the toga together. Her breasts threatened to spill out.
"What's the matter?" Bruce asked, unable to take his eyes off her exposed cleavage.
"I've got this little itch on my back," she said. "Why don't you scratch it for me?"
"Okay."
She turned her back to him. His hand began to explore it through the thin cloth, searching for the itch.
"Lower," she murmured. "Now over to the right."
Shivers of desire gripped her body as his fingers played over her shoulder blades and pressed the firm muscles of her lower back. The more he scratched gently through the cloth, the more the thin fabric of the toga loosened on her body. She glanced down and saw that the sash was completely loose.
Now she writhed her back under his fingers. She bent her head forward and tossed the rich mane of her chestnut hair aside, exposing the nape after neck.
"Oh, that feels so good," she cooed in a soft husky voice. "I wish the cloth wasn't in the way."
Bruce nodded.
She could hear his heavy breathing and feel the tension in his fingers. But he didn't say anything.
"Don't you?" she prompted in a soft whisper.
"Yes," he replied so softly she could barely hear it.
But his fingers kept moving trying to touch her warm flesh through the cloth. Slowly Hippolyta shrugged the cloth off her shoulders. The toga slid down her naked back and fell on the sofa between them. Since it was all she was wearing, she was now totally naked.
"Do you think we should be doing this?" Bruce asked.
"Why not? Oh yes, there. Just a little higher now. There... there, oh yes! Now, rub it hard."
Bruce's hands were not simply scratching her back now they were massaging and caressing its smooth silky muscles. Hippolyta could not disguise the way it aroused her. She sighed and trembled.
"Oh God, that feels good!" she moaned softly.
"Hippolyta..."
She knew that his guilt was delicately balanced with his desire. So, before he could really protest, she turned slowly around to face him. Her full perfect breasts touched his outstretched fingers.
Her thick succulent nipples brushed his knuckles. He looked down at them, clearly struggling with the urge to put his mouth on them.
"Hippolyta..." he swallowed dryly.
"Don't say anything," she whispered.
"But I..."
"Please don't." She gazed into his eyes hotly. "Do you like my body?"
He nodded, his eyes riveted to it.
"Don't you want to kiss my body?"
He nodded again. "But you know it's wrong," he murmured.
"How can it be wrong if you want to? And if I want you to?"
He cupped her fantastically firm breasts in his palms gently, and brushed her puffy nipples with his thumbs. Hippolyta thought she was going out of her mind with hot excitement. A sharp tremor shook her naked body.
"They're so firm," Bruce whispered.
"You like them?"
Hippolyta felt a brief twinge of evil. She wanted to ask him, Are they firmer than Diana’s, than your wife's? But she knew that Diana had nothing to do with this. When he softly squeezed her breasts she could feel her cunt oozing with juice.
"They're incredible," he said.
"Don't you want to kiss them?"
"Yes. But it’s my anniversary with Diana. I wouldn’t even be with one of my other wives until the week is out.”
“And what if my daughter wanted to share you? Oh, please do it, Bruce," she begged him softly. "Don't torment me like this. We don't have to do anything else. Just kiss me and suck me a little, please?"
She knew he wouldn't be able to resist if she begged him. It had never failed. And the look in his eyes as he gazed down at her pear-shaped breasts and swollen nipples convinced her that he wouldn't be able to control himself.
He bent his lips to her naked breasts and began to kiss the firm mounds all over. Still cupping them in his palms, he explored the throbbing globes with his mouth. He kissed her everywhere but her pulsing nipples, making her pant with anticipation.
"Oh yesssss!" she sighed.
She held his head gently in her trembling hands, caressing his hair. She winced with delight as she suddenly felt the abrasive edge of his wet tongue curl around one of her nipples. When his lips closed over the aching bud and drew it into his mouth, she shivered and gasped.
"Ah!" she groaned with pleasure.
His hands began to squeeze her breasts more urgently. He sucked her nipple softly, tenderly, then more passionately. He flicked its stiff center with his tongue. Hippolyta felt her pussy flood with warmth.
Bruce's lips moved to her other nipple. He sucked it with equal passion, bringing soft mewling gasps from deep in her throat. She pulled his head into her breasts, arching her back and pushing them into his face.
"Great Hera, it feels so good when you suck me," she sighed. "It feels so good. Oh, it feels so good!"
She put her hand in his crotch as he sucked her, squeezing his balls and his swollen prick.
"We shouldn't be doing this, Hippolyta," he said, parting his thighs to make it easier for her to squeeze him.
But he didn't stop sucking and tonguing and kissing and squeezing her breasts. She lay back against the sofa and tossed her head, writhing with pleasure.
"God, just suck me, Bruce," she panted. "Don't say anything. Just suck me and suck me. It feels so good!"
"I can't help it," Bruce gasped thickly, as if apologizing. "They're so beautiful!"
She smiled as she watched him hungrily slurping her stiff nipples, which throbbed with fire.
"They're all yours, honey," she murmured. "Suck them, suck them hard! Hard! Yessss, like that! Oh!"
Her fingers flew at his belt buckle. He didn't try to stop her. Within seconds she plunged her hand into his shorts and grasped his hot pulsing cock. It was a good big one. God, yes! she thought to herself. Big enough to fuck me!
"Let me suck you too! Oh, let me suck you, honey!" she moaned.
Bruce pushed her away from his crotch suddenly, spinning her around so that her belly was pressed against the back of the couch, his hand between her legs, skillfully manipulating her clitoris, delving into her sex, striking the most sensitive spot inside her passage before his thumb pushed into her anus. It was a carefully calculated barrage that seemed to stimulate her all at once, and Hippolyta came with a quiver that was almost a seizure.
Bruce took his hand away, and lowered Hippolyta down to the couch as the good feeling continued to bloom through her groin and the rest of her body. Her hips, of their own free will, pushed up and down as if in supplication.
“I think that’s enough for now,” Bruce said. “I have to attend to the rest of the family.”
***
Diana noticed his arousal the moment he walked into the room, as carefully composed as he’d made himself before leaving the Queen. “Did my mother try to tempt you?”
“Yes.”
Diana rolled her eyes in amusement. She needn’t ask if he’d given in. “You must not’ve satisfied her enough the last time.”
“Well, if she wants a repeat performance…” Bruce protested.
Diana was walking to the fireplace. Their room was an open-air pavilion, one wall open to the countryside, letting in a cool breeze that was just this side of comfortable. It was balanced out by the roaring fire, and as Diana stepped into its warmth, its light sheathed her body inside the toga she wore.
Diana held her hand outside the fire’s light, letting goosebumps rise on it as the night wind glanced over it. “Warmth and chill,” she said. “It reminds me of when we first made love.”
***
Fifteen years ago. The Balkan Mountains. Winter. Night.
Bruce woke up slowly. He’d been asleep for several days, fighting a fever, and his innate sense of the passage of time triggered as soon as he was fully awake. He patted his face, feeling the bristly growth of a beard on a jaw he had known to be clean-shaven.
He stirred, artfully checking on the movement of his limbs and satisfying himself that he had healed sufficiently to bear any likely pain. Then he saw Diana, and any pain he might’ve felt instantly was forgotten.
She was a study in beauty. Her face was alluring and mysterious and exotic, dominated by blue eyes with a bold, direct gaze that challenged as much as it entranced. The cottage he was in was dark, but sparse light came from the firelight, and by it, he could see that Diana was totally naked. Long dark hair spooled out to her high-set buttocks and down her chest, its very blackness clashing deliciously with the healthy glow of her toned, tanned skin. Her firm breasts were full and almost obscene in their jiggling realness, the slight ripple in them as she drew her every breath proving just as tempting as her sensual stare. Faint stirrings of breath and muscle continued down her trim, athletic body, barely disturbing the taut skin except to show the clenching musculature of her warrior’s fitness. It was her potent buttocks and womanly hips that gave evidence of her femininity, not giving in to the martial perfection of the rest of her body, just as breasts could not help their fullness, or her face its beauty. Her legs, long and slender and beautiful, were defined by both her creamy thighs and the supple muscle of her calves, neither odiously overdeveloped nor weakly girlish.
She was both weapon and work of art.
For the years that they had known each other, he had been mesmerized by her, but he’d never known temptation like this before. He was transported, like a reverse Hades, kidnapped by Persephone. He was shown a slice of Themyscira that blew out the shades of gray he saw the world through. He was stripped of the heaviness and obtrusiveness of his armor. He saw Diana as a woman, as he would see a dapple of sunlight for the first time, hear the flutter of butterfly wings, taste the sparkle of dewdrops.
He succumbed in a long, slow rise to his feet—his care not out of the worry of injuring or overexerting himself, but because he didn’t want to break the enchantment that had overcome him.
“Oh, Bruce—“ Diana said, surprised by his abrupt wakefulness. She had expected him to be comatose for many days yet. “I suppose my nudity is a bit shocking to you. I took off my armor and got so comfortable without it that I hadn’t thought to put it back on. It’s the fire, it felt so good on my… skin.”
Diana found the same spell taking hold of her. She did not fight it. She gave the Batman a chance to court her and prove his mettle.
They melted together, their mouths fusing. Diana stretched up on her tiptoes, her head tilted, Bruce's tongue firm and aggressive inside her lips. Oozing from the head of his erection was an abundance of precum. It clung to her belly as his cock was sandwiched between their heated bodies. She squirmed against him as the kiss continued. Her tits were crushed against his lower chest, nipples hardened and throbbing savagely. She groaned into his mouth like a woman ready to come at any second. She felt it all gathering within her, a great storm of excitement, a furious raging river of passion.
Her toes clenched against the hardwood floor. She pressed her body still more forcefully against his until the pressure was delightful and agonizing at the same time. Their kiss became combative—a little war fought with nibbling teeth and thrusting tongues. She tightened her lips and began to suck hard, causing Bruce's tongue to plunge deep into her mouth, almost to her throat. No gentleness left in him now, both his hands pulled viciously at the back of her head. She couldn't stand it anymore. She was too hot. Somehow she managed to free her lips from his and turn her head to one side.
Hotly she whispered in his ear, "Let's get on the bed now, I've got to..."
“No,” he said. “I’ve got to.”
They crashed to the bed together, the old mattress acting like a trampoline beneath them, causing them to bounce nearly off its surface. Bruce ended up flat on his back sideways across the bed, his feet hanging over one side, while Diana straddled him, her legs doubled under and her knees at the sides of his hips. His erection was grazing her wet cunt, and she wasted no time reaching for the hard cock. She guided the long, powerful erection into the opening of her sex and immediately began to circle her hips, until the staff was imbedded all the way into her tight young channel. She sat still momentarily, savoring the feel of his manhood. She squeezed it with her muscular cunt. Then she hissed loudly, her lips parted, and started a feverish up and down tempo.
"Bruce!" she cried. "Oh, Bruce, it's so fucking good!"
She could see the outline of his face, his lips widely parted, great gusts of breath heaving out of him from his straining chest. Now and then his eyes reflected what little light there was in this corner of the room, and Diana knew his hot gaze was fixed on her wildly pumping hips. Her own eyes were wet with lust, glazed over and pleading, and she wondered whether Bruce could see the same aroused sparkle in her stare that she saw in his.
Her fluids filled her cunt, causing less and less friction as his cock plummeted into the depths of her pulsating womanhood.
"Bruce, I'm going to come right away—right away, Bruce, I'm so hot!" Her voice was an outpouring of alternate high and low tones, garbled sounds and sobbed syllables. She felt a powerful orgasm welling up within her.
She sat down heavily on his hips and the feel of his throbbing cock, shoved up her cunt as far as it would go, sent her mind spinning in erotic delirium.
"Aaaa!" Bruce groaned as Diana began to move her hips in an increased circular tempo. "Diana, don't stop!"
She had him crazy for it now, and that knowledge—the knowledge that she was driving him insane with her wild motions—made her incomprehensibly hot. She had such power. She could slow her pace and make him plead. She could jerk her groin around furiously for thirty seconds and make him shoot his load right into her. Beneath her was well over six feet of muscular male animal, and she could control it. Sex seemed so glorious to her. Two people dependent on each other to achieve the single most rewarding experience in life. Sex was beautiful—and right.
Her hands moved to her breasts, her palms rubbing briskly across her hard young nipples. The buds were alive with sensual ticklish delight, sending waves of arousal all across her body. Her whole being seemed sexually ignited. Every part of her seemed to tingle with sexual awareness. She felt like she had never been so hot—and yet she knew better. Every time she fucked, she felt hotter than she had ever been before. That was the beauty of fucking.
Bruce reached up and placed his hands atop Diana's. He rode the backs of her hands, feeling her tease and fondle her pretty young breasts. He tightened his thighs, arching his hips upward and lifting the twisting girl with him. Her juices leaked from her cunt to the base of his erection, puddling there, kissing them together.
There was no up and down rhythm now. Bruce kept his hips arched high, and Diana ground down against him as hard as she could. Each of them felt a thundering climax approaching. All movement was stopped. Bruce let out a deep, loud animal groan as he felt the sperm boiling in his testicles. Diana held her breath, then hissed violently. Jitterish jerks began in her thighs and belly and spread.
"Oh!" she gasped. "Oh... oh... oh, yes! It's happening! Oh, Bruce, it's happening right now! I'm coming! Aaahhhh!"
She tore her hands out from under his and pressed them against his hairy chest. She leaned down, supporting her weight against him with her outstretched arms. Like an enraged mare, she threw her head back and bellowed her lust toward the ceiling. Bruce's body was rigid. Only his feet and shoulders anchored him to the bed. Diana's knees were no longer on the mattress; she was being lifted up, way up. Her cunt was contracting, great clutching spasms one after another. Her buttocks tightened and loosened in time with her orgasm.
"I’m going!" he blustered. "Want me to pull out of you? Want me... shit, it's too late! Fuck, oh, fuck, I've got to give it all to you!"
Bruce's cry sent new thrills to Diana's brain as her climax continued. Sometimes she and Streve Trevor had broken their connection at the moment of his ejaculation, and he had come all over her breasts and belly. They had done that to avoid the chance of pregnancy. She realized now, though, that Bruce couldn't withdraw even if he wanted to. And it didn't matter. The time of the month was right for her—no chance of conceiving. Not that she would have let him pull it out, anyway. Her orgasm was too intense.
"Put it into me!" she begged, and just then he did.
The first jet of hot sperm left his balls and shivered up the length of his staff. It hurled forcefully from the split in the tip of his cock and slammed against the quivering insides of her climaxing cunt.
"Merciful Aphrodite, I'm still coming!" she shouted, not remembering the last time an orgasm had lasted so long.
There was a momentary pause between the first hot blast of Bruce's semen into her sex and the next shot. He still kept his hips up high, straining in blissful agony as the next burst of jism fired from his tautly drawn balls. His feet pushed down on the side of the mattress, his curled toes dangling over the edge. The second fiery blast jetted from his cock, joining the sticky pool already in her cunt. The third and following spasms came more rapidly from his member, flooding Diana until the sperm poured like a river from her vagina, along the upper parts of her thighs, and dripped to the blanket.
As if by some mysterious mutual signal, they both abandoned their frozen positions. They began to gyrate intensely, Bruce falling back to the mattress, Diana jerking and twisting madly like a spineless puppet. She threw herself flat on top of him, her breasts bulging and smashed into his chest, her legs stiff above his, her toes scratching across his shins. He lifted his head to her, turning it sideways to find her mouth. Her tongue was dancing wildly between his teeth as she twisted her pelvis frantically against him, sapping the last of his sperm and feeling the final tremors of her own orgasm ripple in her belly.
He grabbed her ass tightly in both hands and pulled her down harder against him while spearing up at her with his still-spouting erection. They kissed and groaned and fucked until the terminal convulsions ebbed. Then they lay glued together with sweat and seed until they finally rolled apart.
"I'm so tired, Bruce, so tired!" Diana whispered happily.
"Not too tired, I hope."
She smiled, a wickedly satisfied smile that went unseen by Bruce because of the darkness. "You don't have to worry about me," she said. "I can take all that you give me!"
