6 comments/ 112768 views/ 41 favorites Same Time Next Week By: Mild Mannered Author 1) The following is a work of erotic fiction. Those under 18 (or whatever is the age of majority in your jurisdiction) should stop reading now. 2) This story contains characters and settings copyrighted by DC Comics. This story should be considered a parody of those characters and settings. It is also distributed free of charge and is a non-commercial enterprise; the author derives no profit from its distribution. No copyright infringement is intended. 3) I'm no continuity buff, so for simplicity's sake this story uses the TV show Justice League as its model, with bits and pieces picked up from the comics as I'm familiar with them. Please accept it as the best knowledge I had when the story was written. 4) This is my first foray into erotic fiction, fan fiction, or indeed fiction of any sort. Feedback is definitely welcome, and encouraged! (Props to "Ann Douglas" and "JR"; I liked your stories very much, and regretted that more authors couldn't write stories like you. Then I decided I had better put my money where my mouth is.) * * * * * The world was blue. The sky above, empty of clouds, was a keen azure; the sea below, a deeper aquamarine. The sun, blazing in the western sky, cast a fierce glow over the whole scene. It's beautiful, Kal thought. So beautiful. He flew on, but the glory of the seascape held him. While on land, he made a point of flying at subsonic speeds, so that the thunder of his passage would not inconvenience anyone, but over the oceans he usually ramped up to much higher velocities. Not today, though. Today Metropolis was quiet; today there were no League emergencies; today was for him. He could take the time to enjoy the bounty of his adopted home. Be honest, Kal. This is about more than aesthetics; this is about anticipation. He smiled to himself, and flew on. The north Atlantic sped by beneath him. Occasionally he slowed his flight and came about in mid-air, using his super-vision to look back at the shore he had left behind hundreds of miles before. Metropolis is there; Charleston is there; and Bermuda is there. Still on course, then. Idly, he wondered how the others kept their bearings on trans-oceanic trips. Bruce certainly had GPS positioning, and who knew what else, in his plane, and probably John's ring kept track of that sort of thing for him, but what about the rest? Without super-vision to triangulate, it would be easy to get lost out here. As he gazed westward, he glanced at the sun, and came back to himself. If it's that high above the horizon, then I'm later than I thought. Leaving his reverie, he turned and resumed his flight, faster now. Luckily, he didn't have far to go. He came to a halt over a patch of water that, even to his eyes, seemed no more remarkable than any other spot for miles around. Quickly, he glanced upwards, his gaze extending all the way into orbit. A handful of satellites were above, but none, he quickly determined, were spy satellites. One of them, a Lexcorp Cellular broadcast node, was narrowcasting into Gotham, which was a violation of F.C.C. rules; probably some sort of corporate espionage, though with Lexcorp there was always the possibility of something more sinister. He made a mental note to mention it to Bruce at the next meeting, though Bruce probably was already aware of it. Not my problem, though, not right now. He smiled again. Satisfied that he wasn't observed, he closed his eyes and recited the phrase. He didn't know the language—he had assumed at first it was classical or koine Greek, but a few passes through the Planet's reference library had disproved that—but the incantation was effective in any case. As he finished, the air rippled slightly, and the island appeared beneath him. It was small, only a few hundred metres long and half as wide. It put the Club Med brochures to shame; the dazzling white beach ran up a slight slope and into the shade of the palm trees. The sudden presence of the island forced itself upon him. Now he could hear the slap of the waves against the shore; now he could smell the surprisingly pleasant aroma of decaying palm leaves. They had not been there before. Whatever hid the island, it wasn't invisibility; for miles in every direction the diffraction patterns of the waves were now different. Before this island hadn't been here to interrupt the water's progress. Was this a demi-dimension? A fold in space? He wasn't sure; magic had never been his strong suit. The first few times he had come here, the matter had bothered him, but no more. He descended, landing on the beach with a soft crunch. She was waiting for him. She lay on her back beneath the palm trees, a thin cloth between her and the sand. Like him, she was in uniform: her bracelets, tiara, and golden-eagle halter sparkled in the few rays of sunlight that broke through the palm canopy above, in sharp contrast to her red boots and blue star-spangled tights, which appeared an inky gray in the shadows. As he landed, she slowly sat up, stretching. Bars of sunlight danced over her, limning her beautiful figure: her supple legs, her muscular arms, her hourglass torso. As he approached, she rose to her feet in a single motion. She smiled at him, a smile of welcome, so unlike the stern expression she usually wore in the Watchtower, but put her arms akimbo in mock disapproval. "Hello, Kal. I was wondering if you were going to make it." Tilting her head slightly, Diana extended her lower lip in a pout, then spoiled the effect with a giggle. "Sorry. At least it wasn't business; a civilian matter came up that I couldn't postpone." If their Justice League colleagues had been there, they would have been taken aback at Diana's giggle, so uncharacteristic of the serious, even humourless Amazon the world called Wonder Woman. They would have been downright flabbergasted if they had seen what happened next, though. Reaching her, Kal—Superman—leaned down, placed a muscular arm around her slim waist, pulled her close in an embrace, and kissed her. * * * It had started months earlier. Diana was sitting monitor duty in the Watchtower. It was early Sunday morning, a few hours past midnight Eastern Standard Time. Choice of which time zone to honour was an arbitrary one aboard a satellite, but as three of the League's four members lived on the east coast of the United States—Superman in Metropolis, Batman in Gotham City, and Wonder Woman in New York City—Watchtower schedules used their clock. Hawkgirl grumbled about this occasionally, but since Green Lantern, out on the west coast, never supported her, Eastern Standard Time was what they had. Saturday night was never a popular shift. Green Lantern made his weekly trip to Oa to report to the Corps then; Batman was tied up dealing with the excesses of Gotham City's weekend exertions; Hawkgirl, Flash, and Superman, whose civilian identities were secret, needed the opportunity to stay connected to their private social lives. The Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman were thus most frequently on duty, since their civilian identities were only shells. For both of them, civilian life was at best a hobby and at worst a cover which enabled them to work cases without attracting attention. It was supposed to have been J'onn's shift, but business in Australia had held him up, and Diana, without anything better to do, had volunteered in his place. She sat in front of the monitors, observing the state of the world. For once, everything was at peace. Still, she remained alert. Part of her—a small part—wished something would happen, something that would allow her to test her skills, but she repressed it. She was trained as a warrior, the best soldier from a society of soldiers, but it was not just her ability in combat that had won her the position of Ambassador to Patriarch's World. As Ambassador, she had to epitomize the Amazon spirit, be an object lesson to the global community. Part of that lesson was that force should be defensive, not offensive; the true warrior never struck, but rather struck back. Fighting for the sake of fighting was the mark of the barbarian. A soft chime rang. That was the perimeter alarm, indicating the approach of someone designated friendly. Checking the defense screen, she saw Kal flying in towards the docking bay. A frown creased her brow. According to the status monitor, Superman was on-call for the League, but not scheduled to pull monitor shift today. So why was he here? If there had been trouble, wouldn't he have signaled the Watchtower rather than coming himself? She watched the monitor intently. If he knew the codes for the airlock, it was prima facie evidence this was the real Superman, not an imposter. If he didn't, he'd quickly find that the Watchtower had ample defenses... of which she was not the least. Superman landed by the airlock, punched the proper codes into the keypad, and entered. In a few moments, he walked into the monitor station. "Diana! Hello. I... I thought J'onn would be here." "He was supposed to have been, but something came up, so I took his shift. Is everything all right?" Diana was a trained warrior, with a warrior's eye. She only needed a quick glance to determine that this was indeed the real Kal, but her disquiet was not eased. Now that she could see him in person, it was evident to her that something was wrong. Instead of standing erect as he normally did, he slumped. Rather than meeting and holding her gaze, he had looked away. His hands were closed, rather than open. Whatever the problem was, it must be serious. "Yes. Yes. Yes, everything's fine." He cleared his throat. "Ah, I can take over here, if you like. In fact, I wouldn't mind a few hours to myself right now." "Well, if you want it, I won't deny it to you. Are you sure you're okay?" "Yes. I'm fine. Really." As he strode over to the monitor chair, he asked, facing away from her, "Did J'onn signal if he was going to be in today at all?" "No. That is, he won't be. He said something about being in the middle of something delicate. He's on call for emergencies, but made it clear he doesn't want to be disturbed." "I see." His voice was leaden. "Okay. I'll bear that in mind." Diana hesitated, but nothing more was forthcoming. She turned to go, but when she reached the door she paused. "Kal... I can see something's bothering you. You don't have to tell me anything, but if you need any help, I'm here for you, all right?" He didn't reply. As she turned to go, he blurted, "Diana, wait. You're right. Something is bothering me, but it's... well... it's something I need J'onn's help with. I'm grateful to you, but really, I need a telepath for this. I mean, for me. It's not a case or anything, not a League matter, it's personal. Thank you for your concern, though." "I see." She didn't, but she didn't wish to press him. If he didn't trust her enough to confide in her, that was his business. She kept her voice neutral, but Kal's eye was as sharp as hers; he could see she was hurt. "Look. I... okay. It's just... you can't help me with this. I promise you. It's something I have to deal with myself." Later, she wondered why she hadn't let the matter drop there, as decorum required. Eventually she decided that she couldn't bear to see him suffer, not after all he had done for her. Superman had saved her life in battle, and she had saved his. It wasn't right to let him fight his demons without help... and she knew him well enough to know that he would never ask for it. He was too used to providing aid to others to seek it for himself. "Kal, we're a team. There is nothing you should have to face alone. No matter what, I and the others will be there for you, just as you would be for us." She paused. "Please. Tell me what's wrong." His face sagged. Clearly, she had hit a nerve. He exhaled deeply, then leaned forward in the chair. He began to speak, quietly. "All right. Maybe talking about it will help. It was a relief to confide to J'onn about this..." He met her eyes for a moment, then looked away, staring not at the monitors but out into space. He didn't look at her once while he spoke. "It's well-known, I suppose, that my powers come from yellow sun radiation. Back on Krypton, with our red sun, I wouldn't be any more remarkable than the average human is here. No one on Krypton would. Those powers are a great blessing to me, but sometimes... sometimes they get in the way. "I can't shave, did you know that? Earth razors break on my stubble, and Earth scissors snap on my hair. That was a problem at first, but I developed suitable tools; diamond monofilaments and such, which aren't difficult for me to make. What the yellow sun takes away, it more than gives back. "Except in one area. I can't..." Great Hera, thought Diana. He's blushing! In a hoarse whisper, he continued, "I cannot... consummate... a physical relationship. It's just not possible. With my strength, I couldn't avoid... damaging... any partner I took. It's not a matter of children," he hurried on. "I have DNA, it's an interesting example of evolutionary parallelism, that that structure is so efficient it appeared both on Krypton and Earth, but DNA isn't enough. The chromosomes, well, they don't match. That other thing they call me, the Last Son of Krypton, that's true too. My race is done. "But that doesn't bother me. I have accepted it. What's harder to accept is celibacy. I've lived with it all my life. It's part of the cost of who I am. But sometimes... it's harder to bear it at some moments than others. This is one of those times. J'onn understands the problem, as he's in much the same position. He can deal with it, though. Martian telepathy, Martian meditation; he's been helping me sublimate it." He broke off, then looked up, meeting her eyes. "So." For a long moment, they gazed at each other. Finally, she spoke. "Thank you for trusting me with this, Kal. I realize how difficult this must be for you to speak about." "Yes. Well. Thank you for listening. It does help. But what would help most, I think"—he straightened up—"would be some time to myself." He swiveled the chair around. Diana knew she had been dismissed, but she remained, thoughts whirling through her head. Minutes passed. Kal turned to look at her, and she said, "I think... I think that, actually, there is something I can do for you." His eyes widened slightly. "Diana... I wasn't—" She spoke past his interruption, her cool demeanour not changing a whit. "The issue you speak of is not unknown among my people, given that we rarely see men and we use magic to produce children. While many of us find the... consummation... you speak of with each other, many of us do not, and for them there are... methods. You may find them helpful." He didn't say anything, but the slight furrow to his brow told her he was thinking hard. Finally, he nodded. "I hope so. Yes, I'll take whatever assistance you can give me. Thank you. I should stay at the monitors for now... can I meet you in the dojo when I'm done here?" The Watchtower dojo was mostly for Batman's benefit, though both Hawkgirl and Wonder Woman took advantage of the facilities it provided. "No. I'm afraid these premises aren't suitable." She paused. "Where could we... ah. Ah, yes, that would do. Perfect." Looking away quickly, she said in a rush "Themascyra would be best, but as neither you nor I would be welcome there, we will need an alternative. There is an island in the vicinity, though. The Amazons know of it, but do not use it. We will have the necessary privacy." "Of course." Poor woman, he thought. She's clearly embarrassed. Her banishment must still cause her pain. I know what that's like. "We can go together." "Yes, that will be necessary, but not today. I will need some time to prepare. I'll contact you on Friday afternoon. Have a good night." She turned to go. "Wait! You haven't told me anything. Should I—" She was already out the door. "It would be best to proceed with an open mind. You won't need to prepare or bring anything. Until then..." Her footsteps faded away. Minutes later, Superman watched her on the monitors. She departed the same way he had arrived, flying down (or was it up?) into the atmosphere. Hmmm. Wonder Woman indeed. She certainly has me wondering what she's got in store for me. Probably some sort of military training. He shuddered. Still, any port in a storm. * * * With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and did his best to lose himself in the monitors. Facing other people's monsters, he hoped, would keep his own at bay. It was a long week for Kal. Lois, who had recently scooped him on a story about industrial pollution in the harbour, had been crowing about her achievement all week. Of course she was beautiful by the world's standards, with her perfect features and her impeccable taste in clothes; but what Kal found most attractive about her were her more intangible qualities—her self-confidence, her ambition, and her concealed, but visible to him, determination to expose the guilty. Her passion for justice, so similar to his own, was what he loved. Her success had filled her with an energy he found charming, even when she expressed it in schoolyard gibes. When mixed together with her achingly perfect body it was tantalizing beyond compare... but he knew she didn't have similar regard for him, at least not yet: to her he was still a quiet man from a small town. He hoped to win her over eventually, but in the meantime he burned. In other circumstances he would have sought relief, but intrigued by the possibilities of what Diana might offer him, he didn't pursue them. It was just as well: J'onn was still unavailable, and his other options were also closed to him. The Kents had raised him to be a traditional Kansas boy as best they could. He was grateful to them for it, for he knew the best parts of himself—his decency, perseverance, respect for life, and tolerance of other people—flowed from the upbringing they had given him. He had taken the bad with the good, though, including a strong animus against self-stimulation. Even though he knew intellectually that masturbation was a healthy outlet, he couldn't shake feelings of self-disgust, and indulged in it rarely. He usually found relief by channeling his energy into his duties as Superman, but Metropolis remained frustratingly free of crime or disaster that week, and responsibilities around the Daily Planet kept him from extended work outside the city. Throwing himself into those responsibilities as best he could, he tried to distract himself, which worked during the days. At nights, though, he would wake from half-remembered dreams with an agonizingly swollen cock. I'm lucky my water bill is fixed, he thought, given how many cold showers I'm taking. Finally the week ended, and late on Friday afternoon he abandoned the city room of the newspaper with relief. Donning his costume, he did a quick patrol around the city. He had only just finished when his League communicator began to hum, alerting him to a message from Diana. Although it could be used as a sort of universal mobile phone, using the Watchtower and allied satellites as a relay, she hadn't called him but rather had sent a text message, instructing him to fly to a certain spot in the Atlantic. With a bit of thinking, he placed it as being just within a hundred miles of Themascyra, the Amazons' Paradise Island, where he had once visited with the rest of the League. With his super-speed it took only minutes to arrive at what, to him, seemed nothing more than an empty patch of ocean. With a ripple, an island appeared before him, and he descended, confused. She was waiting for him, sitting cross-legged beneath the palms, in full uniform. Same Time Next Week I'd never had a massage in the UK. I'd never needed one or wanted the sort of pleasure I gained from attending spas in such places as Crete, Thailand and Spain. I had enjoyed those. They were part relaxing, part sheer pleasure and part, I knew, but they were not sold that way, part erotic. But now I needed one. I needed a proper massage. My back was so tight and had been for two weeks now. I had to do something. I wasn't a member of the gym just down the road from where I lived with my mum. She was a member and it was her suggestion that I book a massage there. "There seems to be quite a few masseurs, some quite dishy too" she said smiling as she climbed out of our very warm, half indoor and half out pool. She was topless as she often was nowadays. The sight of her full, naked breasts swaying and jiggling as she walked towards me made me gulp. I had a thing about my mum, but it was in my mind and no one knew about it. I was amazed when I saw you coming towards me. You were one of the guys who I saw in the pub. Getting on a bit, probably in your late fifties or early sixties, you were still pretty cool and the glint in your eyes and the way you held my gaze just a little longer than etiquette suggests, made me realise there was still lead in your pencil. I had never thought of you in a sexual way and although I was quite inclined towards older men, a thirty five or so year age gap was pushing it. We had exchanged pleasantries and I had seen you looking at me quite often so I felt I knew you. "Hi" you said walking over to where I was sitting in the waiting room. You were wearing shiny blue tracky trousers with three white lines down the sides of each legs and a white tee shirt. You looked good. "Oh hello" I replied looking at you. "You're next in the queue" you told me taking a folder from a tray and opening it." "Am I?" "Yes." "So what's that mean?" "That you get me for your massage." "Oooo that's nice." You led me into a very clean, almost sterile cubicle and after glancing at the folder said. "I see you want a full body massage." "Well there was no option on the website as to which parts, so I went for the lot." "Why not?" "No reason." "Do you have any problems?" I almost said 'Well other than fancying my mum, having a forty two year old as a lover and posing in underwear and naked for photographers, no I don't.' But instead I told you about the tightness in my back and my upper leg at the back. "Have you been doing anything strenuous that puts a strain on your back?" You asked a knowing smile on your face. "Nothing, well no more than usual." "So what's usual?" You asked looking me right in the eye. I didn't know what to say so I mumbled. "Oh you know." "Any idea what has caused it?" "No." "Well let's get going shall we?" "Going where?" "With the massage." "Oh I see, yes let's." You said something about me putting myself in your hands, which I thought was a bit yucky, but then age does that. You explained that I should get undressed while you were out of the room and lie on the table with the thin sheet over me. "Everything?" "Well keep your panties on if you are shy" you told me raising the erotic barometric pressure. As I undressed that phrase came into my mind several times. 'I'm from Essex' I thought 'We can do no panties.' I undressed completely carefully folding my top, jeans and bra onto a chair leaving my little dark blue thong on top of the pile. I wondered if you would notice. Lying naked under the sheet as you had told me I momentarily wondered just what I was doing. Wasn't a bit risky? Wasn't it possible that masseurs tried to take advantage of women? Why were there no female masseuses? But, I rationalised, the gym was owned by Virgin and they were a global and well-respected company who surely wouldn't let anything untoward go on at their gyms! And on top of that you were an 'elder statesman' who I vaguely knew and that reassured me. I smiled when I thought 'he may even be past it!' By the time you came back I had almost forgotten about all that and after a few minutes of you massaging my back all such thoughts had left my mind completely. You had pulled the sheet down so it was round my waist or did it go further, did you lift it up, did you have a peep at my bum? That didn't seem to matter, though once the warm oil and your hands were on my back. You clearly knew what you were doing for you were massaging me very deeply, more so than at the spas, but you didn't hurt me. I could feel the tension and tightness leaving me and I relaxed and gave into the luxurious feelings of your hands and fingers on my back. You started at the bottom of my back just by my waist and gradually worked upwards and outwards. The warm, sweet smelling oil and the sensations from your fingers combined to make me feel very mellow. It was almost as if I went into a trance or you hypnotised me for nothing else seemed to exist other than my body, your hands, the oil and the massage table. In my mind they merged together and became one, they became everything, they became my world. My body was tingling everywhere and it felt as if my mind was leaving it and was floating around. It was just like smoking a strong joint. Several times you asked if everything was ok and my replies varied from 'fine' to 'very nice' a few minutes later' and then 'divine' after what might have been ten minutes or an hour, my mind having lost the ability to record time so intoxicated was it with pleasure. You had slid well down my back several times with your fingers seeming to go slightly under the sheet covering my bum and onto my cheeks. A couple of times your fingers slid almost into the crease between my cheeks just stopping when they reached my coccyx . That sent little tremors through me; 'were they accidents' I wondered. Also as you slithered your hands up or down the sides of my body I would feel them brush the edge of my breasts and that began to arouse me. 'Count sheep, think of a cooking recipe or recite some Shakespeare' I told myself fighting hard against the temptation. I felt you lift my left arm, bend it at the elbow, ease it behind me, turn it over and place the back of my wrist on my slone. That lifted my shoulder joint up a little. Although I had never had that done to me before I didn't think anything of it especially when you started massaging through my armpit round and up onto my shoulder blade. But then I felt your hands sliding further downwards right along the area where my breast becomes my side. The sensation was acute and immediate. I may have grunted, but said nothing even when your hand went further. 'Is he really massaging the side of my breast' I asked myself? I knew the answer and that was yes for slowly you went further and further down the side of my boob and it felt not only wonderful, but perfectly ok. But this shouldn't happen. You shouldn't be doing this or was I imagining it? Maybe accidental brushings of sensitive parts of a body are unavoidable. "Is that ok Sammi?" I heard you whisper giving me the ideal opportunity to stop you. "Mmmm you're very good at this" I rather inanely murmured not sure whether I should stop you or not. I didn't stop you for I don't think I had the will power to do that. Something other than my mind seemed to be directing me. A greater force appeared to be taking me over. The demands of my body were in a strong conflict with the sensibility of my mind. And you seemed to be totally aware of that. It was as if your hands could read my body. I couldn't understand what was happening, particularly when I lifted my left shoulder a little further. Nevertheless, I got an immediate reward for your such pleasure giving hands slid right down and along the side of my boob almost as far as my nipple. It was lovely, so much so that I lifted invitingly further and let out a low moan. 'God what must he think?' I asked myself wondering if you felt I was enticing you, setting a honey trap or leading you on. When you moved your hands away I was sure that you felt that and I was waiting for you to end the massage. I visualised you reporting me to the management and maybe even the police. My worry was unfounded for your hands were quickly back on me taking my right arm and repeating the manipulations you had done with my left. For some crazy reason I felt elated. It was as if a weight had been lifted from me, almost as if I had won something. I seemed to go further into that small world of my body, the oil, your hands and the table, but that now included another item, my breast. Your hands had only completed one slow sweep from my armpit to my shoulder blade when this time I not only lifted my shoulder a little further, but I also turned my body a bit. There was no hesitation whatsoever. You knew immediately what I wanted, no more needed than wanted. Your hand went exactly where I had hoped it would go. There was no pretence now, no pretending it was an accident and none of the surreptitious touches of earlier. I realised that you had 'softened me up' with my left breast and was 'going for the kill' with my right. You didn't try to massage it, you didn't run along the side of it or slide your hand over it. No you cupped it. You gripped it and squeezed it. There was no doubt now. This was no accident, it wasn't a freak moment and I saw now that we were in this together. I grunted and sighed with the pleasure and excitement as you pressed your fingers against my nipple that I knew would be horrendously swollen. I didn't know how long you played with my tit. That didn't matter. What mattered was that we were doing exactly what we both desired. You gently put my arm back by my side and asked if I was ok. "Fucking marvellous" I very much over the top replied as I felt more oil being drizzled onto my back. You started to massage my back again, but this time you went further than my back. This time as your glorious hands slid down they went right onto the cheeks of my bum and massaged and fondled that quite firmly. As if from afar I heard you say. "You mentioned your thighs, would you like me to pay some attention to them?" I nodded my head and moaned. "Mmm-hmm," not trusting myself to speak. You moved to the foot of the table and I felt you lift the sheet the edge of the sheet which had been resting across my bum just above, I thought where the crease starts. I didn't know what you were going to do or what was going to happen, but suddenly I felt the sheet being pulled away as I lie there naked. That made my heart pound. I knew you would be ogling my nudity, focusing on the crease between the cheeks of my bum and on the puffy, blood swollen lips that would be peeping between my legs. And that excited me. Just as I had enjoyed flaunting my body at photographers so I was getting excited at exposing it to you. I smiled when I thought, 'Friday nights at the pub will never be the same again!' You started on the backs of my thighs, but quickly went back to my bum and really went to town on that massaging each cheek very firmly and deeply. That made me grunt, part with a slight pain, but more with arousal. I've always had a sensitive arse and love having it played with. Normally such playing is soft, gentle and teasing. There was none of that with your massage. No you went at my cheeks with energy, vigour and power. You dug so deep into them that you made me gasp. I had never experienced anything like this before, but then I have never had my bum spanked and that is what I aligned what you were doing to. As you squeezed, pressed and pummelled my cheeks so you let your fingers slide into and along the crease between them sending thunderbolts of sensation through me as they slid right across my anal hole. I wasn't cumming, but I was experiencing sensations similar to a climax. I knew that my breathing was ragged, that my head was rolling from side to side, that I was gripping the table and that my bum was squirming around as soft, but obviously discernable moans and sighs escaped from my mouth It had become obvious that this was more than a massage. It was clear that you wanted to give me more, much more than just the therapeutic benefits that come from one. Maybe you always did it, perhaps many or most women gave into the tremendous temptations of being naked and massaged by a man. Possibly it had been your intention all along to do more to me than what was on the tin. These thought were going through my mind as I wondered just how this would end. I still wanted more. Precisely what that more was I didn't know. Maybe it was just more massage, perhaps it would be you fingering me and boy was my cunt aching for that or possibly we would have mutual masturbation. It didn't really occur to me that we might fuck. Why not? After all you'd played with my tits and had run your fingers along the crease of bum pausing suggestively right on the hole. I wanted more involvement too. I am not in the habit of being totally under a man's, or a woman's come to that control when having sex. I need to be an equal participant. I lifted my body and turned onto my side. "Why don't you do me this side," I murmured, fanning my hair out on the white pillow behind me and then settling with my arms by my sides. As I did that I momentarily wondered whether the door was locked and thought of mentioning it. But I didn't for the idea of someone walking in unexpectedly had some appeal. It also had some concerns for whoever came in might accuse me of leading you on. I put it from my mind and relaxed waiting for you to attend to the front of my body You moved to the top of the table behind my head so I couldn't see you. Nothing happened for a moment or two and ridiculously I wondered, half hoping too, if you were undressing and was about to fuck me. But deep down I knew that wouldn't happen. It would be taking things far too far; this was the health spa in well-respected global company not a seedy massage parlour in the high street of an inner city borough. Nevertheless, I felt a slight touch of disappointment when your hand came into sight holding the oil bottle. That quickly went away, however, when you poured the oil onto my body right between my tits. Again all pretence that this was anything other than an erotic and sexual massage vanished for immediately you smoothed the oil into each of my breasts. That felt lovely. So knowing of precisely what I needed you pinched each of my nipples and pulled them, quite hard. That seemed to reduce the pressure that had built up in my tits and I let out a deep sigh. God you were so fucking brilliant at this. You seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of exactly what I wanted and how far to go at each stage. 'Fuck I bet he's a great fuck' I was thinking as I lie there with my eyes closed. My mind was now most certainly not counting sheep, thinking of recipes or bloody Shakespeare, it was focused firmly on just one thing 'being fucked and being fucked by you. "Oh shit" I said as I felt a strong pain in each of my nipples where you were pinching them hard and pulling them at the same time. "Ok?" You asked, not reducing the pressure. As with many sexual activities there is such a narrow threshold between pain and pleasure and quickly, as I am sure you knew from experienceI was embracing that threshold and crossing it. "Nice?" "Mmmmm awesome" I groaned. You let go of them and began to massage my oiled tits again so wonderfully and for such a long time. Once more I had the feeling of nearly, but not quite cumming. Still standing behind me out of my sight apart from your arms and hands you adopted a marvellous routine for a few minutes. Squeezing, pulling and pushing each boob up, down and then together your hands then left them and slid down the my body. Your thumbs ran right down the centre with the rest of your fingers curled round me so they slithered down either side. They ran from my tits, down my lower chest, past my waist and onto my tummy. The first time you did it I thought they would slide all the way and you would grab my pussy, but they didn't. Once they were on my waist both thumbs turned sharply outwards so they slithered across my groins onto my hips and then back up my side and onto my tits. As you did that you had to lean forward and your tee shirt covered chest would rub against my face. Each time you leaned further forward so your chest would press harder on my face; it was amazingly erotic. And that was made more so when I felt a pressure on the top of my head. The pressure increased as your hands slid down me and then decreased as they came upwards. It hit me like a log when I realised it was your cock pressing and squirming against the top of my head. 'Jesus' I thought 'He's even fucking my head. Inevitably I suppose for I assumed it was part of your practised 'routine' on each sweep your hands went further. Past my waist, onto the slight swell of my tummy, over the slope, downwards, onto the edge of my landing strip of pubes and into them. Each sweep downwards gave me such incredible sensations that I unashamedly moaned and groaned my pleasure, arched my back, rolled my head from side to side and gripped the table even more firmly. After visiting my pubic patch I knew that there was only one more place for them to go. And if I knew I was sure that you did as well and that your intent on the next downward slither was to go there. Your hands left my tits again. They moved more slowly than the other times. There was more intent and they moved with a clear purpose that I am sure we both felt. They paused as your thumbs pressed into my tummy button. They edged onto my stomach, inched down its flatness, slid into my hairs, went down the three by one and half inch strip and right onto my cunt. Expertly with no young buck fumbling you ran back and forth along my slit. That made my body buck like a young horse being ridden for the first time. "Oh my God" I groaned arching my back and squashing my tits against your chest as your fingers so easily found my clit hidden, well maybe it wasn't, in its little pink hood. You rubbed it with exactly the right amount of pressure. It was fucking marvellous. "Nice?" "Oh Hal it's glorious" I croaked writhing my clit against your experienced and knowing finger. "More?" "Yes, yes please more" I moaned grabbing your wrist, clenching my thighs together and pulling your finger more firmly against me. You moved alongside the table and we looked at each other. We smiled and our other hands clasped. It was lovely holding one of your hands against my pussy in a sexual mode whilst gently holding the other in a tender gesture. I couldn't avoid seeing that you were hard, but then I knew that from how you had dry fucked my blonde head. It would have been impossible to hide it for it was rearing encouragingly and invitingly right up the centre of your stomach. You knew I was looking at it and you looked down to it as your finger on my clit made me cum. You cuddled me through the delicious vigours of a full blown orgasm. "Was it good Sammi?" "Oh Hal it was fucking marvellous" I sighed revelling in the post climatic tremors, little shudders and the warmth that flowed through me. I knew that there had to be a price to pay for the pleasure you had given me. I was ready and prepared to pay the price, whatever it might be; hand job, blow job, cum on my tits or a full on fuck, but it was down to you, after all it was your show. You started on my tits again. But this time it clearly wasn't a massage, not even a soft, sexy and erotic massage. No this time as you held my hand in one of yours and we squeezed each other you caressed my breasts with your other hand. Squeezing, stroking, rubbing and gently pinching my nipples you held my gaze as you slowly lifted my hand and placed it right on the top of my other breast. I did what came naturally and with my hand I repeated what you were doing on my other boob. It was lovely. Same Time Next Week As we both caressed my tits I wondered if that was it. After all you had massaged me and you had made me cum. Maybe that was all that was on the menu? I also wondered if what you had just done to me was commonplace. Was it an 'offering' you made to all women or was there some signal you saw that prompted you, that gave you the hint that your client might be available. And what had I done to suggest that, take my knickers off. I smiled at that for I had in a moment of indiscretion left my thong right on the top of my pile of clothes. Perhaps that was it I nearly smiled. Knickers on show means you've taken them off and you are up for it. Hidden knickers means no, so fuck off. "Is that lovely Sammi?" "Mmmm yes Hal it is" I sighed almost lost in the cloud of sensational feelings oozing out from my breasts and filling my entire body. I lay there naked, my ankles crossed and my eyes closed as we both played with my tits. I felt you lifting my other hand and heard as if from afar you saying. "Sammi?" I opened my eyes just before you pressed the palm of my hand against the outline of your erection. Our eyes met, but neither spoke. We both knew the score, we were both grown up, one perhaps a little more than the other, but we were on the same plane. I rubbed it and you groaned softly. "Oh yes." With the impeccable timing and spot on instinct you had illustrated from the moment we met you muttered. "Undo me Sammi, please." I had never been asked that before and it sounded such an erotic phrase and proposition. How you knew that it was exactly what I wanted to I have no idea, but all the time you had been one step ahead of me. I turned slightly onto my side and supported myself on my elbow. With shaking fingers I unzipped you still wondering if this was leading towards a fuck or what? I watched as you pushed your trousers and boxers down. You stood there looking faintly ridiculous in just the white tee shirt with your ramrod like cock sticking straight up outside the tee. Not of porn star proportions you were, nevertheless quite long and encouragingly thick. I so easily imagined it entering me and stretching the lips of my vagina that I was beginning to think was on the small side. Looking up at you as I held it in my hand I acted on an impulse and slid you into my mouth. I like sucking cocks, I always have and I think I am quite good at it, well at least I am creative and I try hard. Your hands immediately grabbed my head and slid into my blonde tresses as holding your nice warm cock I slid it in and almost out of my mouth using my lips, tongue and, occasionally, my teeth on the surprisingly hard cock. It felt good in there and you reaction suggested you were enjoying it too. "Oh shit yes" you groaned as my mouth and your hips found a nice rhythm and we rocked and rolled together. You gripped my head tighter and started to fuck my face. I could feel the tension in your cock through my lips, tongue and hand and guessed you were very near. As prepared as I was to suck you until I made you cum and as happy as I would be to have you shoot onto my tits I couldn't let you cum into my mouth or swallow you, after all I didn't really know you. I was about to take it out when you took over and removed your cock from my mouth. You pushed me onto my back and lifted my legs up exposing my cunt to you. "Take it off" I whispered. "What?" "The fucking tee shirt I want my tits to feel your chest not a fucking cotton." Holding my ankles up in the air with one hand you cut a comical picture as you struggled the tee shirt off just about managing it one handed and not quite making me laugh. Rather ambitiously, but hugely excitingly you draped my legs over your shoulders. Holding your cock in your hand you moved forward a little and with no further preamble or hesitation you shoved it deep into my cunt. The suddenness and the depth of your penetration made me grunt. You held yourself rigid inside me for a few moments as suddenly I realised we hadn't thought about you wearing a condom. Hypothetically shrugging my shoulders I thought to myself 'Well I know him better now, after all I have sucked his cock' so I did nothing about it. In any case bare back is so much more pleasurable. "Ok Sammi"? "Oh yes" I sighed back feeling wonderfully filled and arousingly stretched by your very grown up cock. It had been a long time since my longer-term, older married lover DD had fucked me like this, and nobody else ever had. But then you need certain things to be available to do it like this. Me lying on my back with you standing was the perfect situation for it. I felt very sexy with my legs over your shoulders as you started fucking me, but by Christ did I hope that door was locked. You fucked me like that then turned me on my side and got on the table behind me and fucked me from behind. You reached round me and played with my tits and pushed my hand down indicating for me to rub my clit. I happily did that. I had been with two guys who are over forty and one in his early fifties, but never one who could well be in his sixties. I had no idea really of a man of that age's staying powers, but there was no problem with yours; in any case I am not into those marathon hour long fucks that some younger guys like to do. How I was on top of you I couldn't quite fathom out, but there I was bouncing up and down my little tits flying around all over the place. They looked a bit untidy like that so I grabbed them and held them still. But you reached up and pushed my hands away and gripped them, it felt lovely and I assumed that I would fuck you until I made you cum. Wrong. Suddenly you squirmed away and grabbing me you turned me round rather roughly. I thought that if you weren't careful we'd fall off the sodden table and I imagined one of us breaking a bone and medical help being called. But we didn't and you grabbed my head and pushed me forward so my head was on the table and my bum was up in the air. 'Not my arse, please not that' I either said or thought I said as I felt your cock against my lips. Feeling relieved that you were going to fuck me like that I pushed back just at the same time as you urged yourself forward so that once again your splendid, vintage cock filled my modest, youthful cunt. You started to fuck me again. This time though there was more aggression, more force and energy. You were really going for it slamming yourself in and out of me making me grunt and whimper. You gripped my hair and pulled it. "Fuck no" I think I said. "Shush be quiet" I think you replied pulling harder on my hair and fucking me more forcibly. A hard, dirty fuck was just right and once again you seemed to have anticipated my needs and reacted to the requirements of the moment. I could feel you were near. You were pulling harder on my hair with one hand, squeezing my tits and pinching my nipples more firmly and you was holding your cock rigid as far up me as it would go. I had been trying to hold back and resist my orgasm, but that was now impossible and as if opening the floodgates it suddenly burst inside me. I grabbed the table almost ripping the fabric it with my finger nails as I snarled. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck yes, yes, I'm cumming." "Cum hard Sammi" I heard you grunting as your spunk poured into me. You seemed to spew quite a lot, but a woman never really knows that is until after when it starts sliding down her leg. "Was it good?" You asked as I collapsed onto the table with you on top of me. "It was fucking brilliant" I told you squirming out from under you. "Can I book the same time next week please?" Same Time Next Week Being a masseuse had its benefits. Seducing a young attractive woman on the massage table, through nothing more than the power of my hands, was a sexual thrill hard to match. Over the years I had discovered that I could bring even the most innocent woman to such a state that—despite herself—she was practically gagging for it. I had to be careful, of course. Test the water as I went along. One wrong step would be the end of my career, not to mention the potential charge of sexual assault that could follow. But I prided myself on having it pretty much sussed out. As each massage progressed, I could sense who was up for it and who wasn't. And I never—ever—crossed the line without being one hundred per cent certain. We were all at it, of course. The guys I worked with were, like me, Massage Therapists at one of London's biggest chain of health clubs. Our clients ranged from younger to older women, thin women to those with a fuller figure, wealthy married women to everyday but stunning young beauties. The difference between me and the other masseuses was summed up by one thing. Age. They were young bucks who ... yes ... boasted huge stamina and had muscular bodies to match. Me? I was nearing retirement age. But that was an advantage, not a drawback. It gave me the one thing they didn't have. Experience! And my encounters with women on the massage table—and beyond—had proven beyond doubt that experience counted for so much these days. Today was going to be an extra special day. I realised that as soon as I peeked out through the blinds at the next client waiting in the reception area. All my Christmases had come at once. She flicked a hand through her short blonde hair as I watched, her expressive blue eyes taking in everything that was going on around her. God, she was fit. Her tight fitting dress showed plenty of delectable thigh as she crossed and uncrossed those long tanned legs and her tits were simply straining against the pink material. What was going to make the encounter even more interesting was that I knew her. We weren't friends or anything of that nature, but we had exchanged a few friendly words from time to time at the local pub we both frequented. I wondered if that familiarity would count against me. How would she feel about a massage from someone familiar to her? Whatever her objection—should it come—I instantly knew I'd find a way to overcome it. This prize was too great to let go. As I watched her shuffle delectably on the chair, I went through my filing cabinet of a brain to regurgitate what I remembered of her. Her name was Sammi Cannock and the stunning, sexy, larger than life character was in her mid twenties. She used to attend college and rumour had it that she was fucking one of her professors, an older guy. That augured well... But I was pretty sure she had moved on from college to work. Wasn't she with a marketing agency now? Then there was the part time photographic modelling work she was involved in. That was no surprise as she was an attractive girl, more beautiful than she realised, with a red-hot body. Okay, she pissed off a few of the guys in the pub with her attitude—she didn't suffer fools gladly and would put down any guy who got out of line with a single, sarcastic throwaway comment. I had always liked that quality. Sassy women had always been my thing. I took a deep breath as I glanced at the clock and turned away from the window. Before I headed for the door, I adjusted my cock inside my trousers. It was already reacting to the anticipation growing inside my body. This was going to be fun... * The way Sammi's eyes did a double take confirmed that she recognised me. For my part I made no acknowledgement of the fact and gave her a beaming smile and a friendly shake of her hand. Before she had any opportunity to object—I wasn't taking any chances—I turned on my heels and led the way to the massage room. "Okay, Sammi," I said once we were inside. I smiled again but kept my voice business-like as I glanced at my notes. "It's good to see you again. You're booked in for an hour, I see, so why don't we get started? I don't want to waste any of your time." She nodded at me. That was good. First hurdle overcome. "It's a full body massage you're booked in for," I continued. "Are there any areas you'd especially like me to focus on?" "My back's a little tight," she said, staring at me with those deliciously blue eyes. My shoulders, too." She touched them with her hands and then dropped them downwards to her legs. "And my thighs need attention. Is that okay?" "Of course," I cheerily responded. "Just put yourself in my hands, Sammi. I'm the most experienced of the masseuse's here and it's my job to make this as enjoyable and as beneficial as possible." "Okay..." I smiled at her again, meeting her gaze. That was one of the things with Sammi. She had the most wonderfully expressive blue eyes. It was well known from conversations in the pub that she could either cut you off at the knees with one of her looks or seem to invite you to fuck her. They open stare she gave me was somewhere in between the two and frustratingly I couldn't quite gauge her mood. "Okay," I continued, firmly meeting that look. "I need to pop back to the office briefly. Why don't you get undressed and lie on the table. You can pull that top sheet over you when you're naked..." "You want me naked?" Her right eyebrow rose fractionally to emphasise the double-entendre. I smiled. That was another of Sammi's characteristics. I'd seen guys dumfounded at the pub as they tried to work out whether or not she was coming on to them. She loved that game. "I most definitely want you naked, Sammi," I calmly said. And how! My cock was lengthening again. "You can keep your panties on if you're shy," I continued. "Whatever makes you feel the most comfortable. I'll be back in a couple of minutes." With that, I shot her another reassuring smile and left the room before she noticed my erection. The thought of having my hands all over the delectable Sammi Cannock's body—and white might follow—was inevitably starting to get to me. * As I'd hoped, Sammi was fully naked when I returned to the room. She lay on her stomach with the sheet pulled just far enough up to provide a teasing view of the top of her asscheeks. My cock twitched again. Don't fuck this up, I said to myself. Just don't fuck this up. "Feeling relaxed?" I asked. I made a pretence of adjusting the sheet across her lower body, but the truth was I couldn't hold back the need to view that beautiful ass. I'd seen it in jeans, in a dress and in a skirt and I'd once got a look at her panties during a particularly boisterous night at the pub. But naked, her ass was something else. Perfectly round and beautifully firm. I reached for the oil and lathered it across my palms. As usual, I started on the lower back, using both hands to smooth the liquid in. I worked slowly, covering the width of her tanned body and up to her shoulders. Her breathing pattern changed as I worked—longer and deeper breaths that matched the rhythm of my firm strokes. Pouring more oil onto my palms, I changed position to stand at the top of the table and kneaded my hands down her fabulous body, starting at her shoulders and ending at the top of her asscheeks. Her arms were stretched out beside her head and her face was turned to the side. Had she looked up towards me, she would have seen the bulge in my trousers. "How's that?" I softly asked, after a good five minutes of continuous, deep massage. "Divine." The word came out as a murmured purr and I smiled. She was in that contented state that encouraged further exploration. I took hold of her arm as I moved to her side again and eased it backwards. By crossing it behind her back, her body lifted a little on her left side. It was a technique I'd perfected some time ago and allowed me to massage across the front of her shoulder and the side of her firm breast. "Is that okay, Sammi?" One step at a time, that was the secret. No surprises. Just lead her to where you wanted to go. That was the secret. She purred again. "You're very good at this." Her voice became soft and sexy when she was aroused. My cock was in a semi-permanent state now. I rubbed under her arm, her armpit, up to her shoulder and back down the side of her breast again. With each caress I covered more and more of that delicious mound but to her it would seem like a natural progression. She lifted herself to feed me more of her breast—a great sign—and let out a little whimper as I cupped and then rotated it in my palm. But as her breathing hardened I gently lowered her arm and moved away. For now I needed her wanting more. I covered my palms with more oil and when I reached for her right arm she was ready for me. She rocked to her side, allowing me access to the whole of her right side as I rested the arm across her back. I took advantage, cupping her wonderfully pliant breast in my left hand and began to knead rather than massage it. Her hard nipple burned into my palm. I played with her tit for a good minute without letting up. Her soft pants changed into louder moans. She was well on the way to where I needed her to be. "There you go," I murmured, replacing the arm and moving back into position above her body. "Does that feel better?" "Fucking marvellous," she replied. Sammi had never been one for mixing her words. I dribbled some oil directly onto her body this time, making her wince. Although my sweeping hands covered the whole of her back again, this time I continued all the way down to cup her ass. I seamlessly repeated the motion, over and over again, long strokes... "You mentioned your thighs," I softly reminded her. "Would you like me to pay some attention to them?" Her head nodded fractionally and a soft "Mmm-hmm," escaped her lips. She was pretty much mine to do what I wished. I kept my hands on her beautiful skin as I moved my body down towards the foot of the table. With a slightly theatrical flourish that played to the arousal I was feeling, I dragged the rest of the sheet away. That stunning tanned ass, with the tiny white bikini line, was exposed to me. For a while my hands worshipped it, with long circular strokes of those firm buttocks. Her body squirmed under my touch and she was gasping now. I turned my attention to each ass cheek and worked her gluteal muscles, digging my fingers in firm and deep. Sammi's ass began to rise up and down, almost humping the table with each caressing stroke. "Too much?" I asked. She lazily turned her head turned to glance back at me. That look was in her eyes again. It was the one the guys in the pub referred to as her come-fuck-me-look. She held my gaze as she swung her body around on the table and rested on her back legs apart. I hadn't needed to instruct her. The sexy bitch was ahead of me. "Why don't you do me this side," she murmured, fanning her hair out on the white pillow behind her and then settling with her arms by her side. Our eyes stayed on one another as I poured more oil onto my palms and started on her stomach. I ran my hands in tight circles across her flesh. Her eyes were clouding in pleasure but remained locked on mine. I should have worked longer on her flat belly but that sexy gaze was getting to me. Instead, I moved to her tits. She gasped out loud. I no longer made any pretence at this being a massage. I cupped them, pushed them together, squeezed them, worked her hard nipples, kneaded them ... pleasured her tits with my strong hands. She was moaning now and my cock was rock hard inside my trousers. We were both getting off on this. We stayed that way for a couple of minutes, me cupping and kneading, Sammi openly moaning, my cock so hard it was beginning to ache. I closed my eyes for a second, for a brief second, savouring the feel of this hot, sexy girl's body under my control. That was when I felt it. * Sammi's left hand was on my trousers, the whole of her palm tracing the outline of my cock against the material. Now it was my turn to gasp. She stroked me until my ache became acute and then she twisted her body on the table so that she could bring her fingers to the belt of my trousers. She slowly unbuckled it, the room silent but for sound of our heavy breathing and the clink of its clasp. Her gaze never left mine as she drew the zipper of my trousers down. She had my hard cock out into the open within seconds. It stood full and proud before her gaze. The swollen head glistened with anticipation. "Not bad, granddad," she chuckled. When she took me between her lips I almost blew my load there and then. The combination of the sudden action and the warm feeling of her wet mouth around me were sensational. I gritted my teeth to regain control. I quickly discovered she was a master of the art. She corkscrewed her hand around my hard shaft as she teased the head with her mouth. When I moaned, she deep-throated and held me there while her eyes found mine. Then she was easing me from between her lips, allowing saliva to drip from her mouth and down onto my hardness. She sexily worked it into my veiny flesh with both hands and then took me between her lips again. It was a masterclass. When I tried to fuck her mouth she eased off. When I moaned and ran my fingers through her blonde hair, she increased the pace again. It was all becoming too much for me. As much as I wanted to blast cum down her throat, across her face, over her tits, my need to fuck her was more urgent. Dragging her head away, I twisted her body so that she fell onto her back. She gave a guttural growl of approval and widened her thighs. Her smooth sex was glistening. I moved into position and hooked my hands under her knees so that I could heave her legs up over my shoulders. I aligned my cock with her wet opening and, with a press of my hips, I thrust forward. She was so ready for me that I entered with a single thrust. Her tight cunt held me inside her as I reached for the bottle and poured some oil down onto her tits. It splattered across her beautiful breasts and ran across her skin in rivulets before I began to work it in with my hands. Her tits bounced in my clutching palms as I began to fuck her. She grunted and wrapped her feet behind my ears. I found myself thinking that—even in my dominant position—it was remarkable how her clutching pussy owned my cock. The table bounced as we increased the pace. Sammi fucked the way I'd imagined in my fantasies. Yes, I'd come away from the pub on a few occasions and masturbated to thoughts of having my way with her sweet body. But even in my wildest fantasies it had never been like this. We were never still for more than a few minutes. Each time one of us built up a head of steam the other pulled away and changed positions. I crawled on the table beside her and took her sideways. Her hot body lay back against mine and her hand found her clit as my cock did the business. Then she was on top. Her breasts bounced deliciously as she arched her back and rode me like a fucking dervish. I reached upwards to close my palms around her delicious tits but she was already swinging around like a contortionist to face away from me. Oh fuck... Goosebumps broke out all over my body as I stared at those perfect asscheeks. She jammed down on my cock and grinned back over her shoulder as she began to rotate her hips in tight circles. She stayed like that for a while, riding me reverse cowboy style while she watched my expression. "Too much for you, granddad," she teased again. She was right. Her fucking body was taking me to heaven and her red hot stare was accentuating the feeling. But it wasn't going to be that easy. No fucking way... I wrestled control back from her by pushing my body up from the table and pushing her forward. With my hand on the back of her neck, I propelled her head down onto the pillow and pulled her perfect ass into the air. She twisted her head around to look at me and my breath caught in my throat. She was beautiful. Her body was so fucking hot. And here I was, fucking her. I wrapped strand after strand of blonde hair around my fingers as I lined myself up and easily thrust home again. When I yanked her head back and thrust harder, she responded with an encouraging growl. Her hips pumped back in time with my thrusts and that wonderful wet sound of slapping flesh on flesh filled the air inside the small room. A sheen of perspiration covered our bodies. Sweat dripped from my forehead. I thrust harder, she pumped back harder, both of us caught up in the moment. I fucked her that way until I had no more to give. When I came, my heart was in my mouth. I could hardly breathe. It was like volts of electricity were being pumped through my body. She was a sexy succubus, draining me dry while cursing something out that I could only hear in the far reaches of my hazy mind. Then Sammi was cumming too. God, that bitch could scream. Her body trembled and shook as she peaked and—eventually—we collapsed together, our bodies heaving, my arms around her and spooning that fabulous body into mine until the shudders began to die away and—gradually—sense began to return. It took a while and then, slowly, her head swung around and her eyes sexily grinned into mine. "That was nice ... same time next week?" Same Time Next Week "No! Oh, no. Of course not." "Good. We could meet less frequently, if you liked. Maybe these once-a-week trysts are too many?" "Not at all. I'd prefer to do it twice a week, but I think my duties would suffer for it." "Probably you're right. Mine certainly would. It would be nice, though," she said wistfully. "So let's make the most of what we've got, then." She smiled, and reached up for her tiara, but he stopped her. "No, leave it on. The boots and the bracelets, too." "What is it about this costume?" she asked as she removed her corset and panties. "Does it really help? I prefer you au naturel, after all." He thought about it as she dropped to her knees and began to lick and suck him. "That's not the point. The point is... ooh... to remind myself that... oh, God... we're doing this not just for ourselves... don't stop... but because it's part of the job.... If we want to fix the world... oh... we have to keep ourselves in good condition too..." Diana stopped for a moment and looked up at him. He smiled. "Okay. You caught me. Part of it is that I've got Wonder Woman to get me off. What man wouldn't want to remember that every chance he got?" "Kal, you and I need to have a long talk," Diana said severely. "Part of my mission to Patriarch's World is to adjust thinking like that. Just because I make it my business to relieve your sexual tension doesn't mean you should... I mean, you shouldn't..." She broke off, looking back at his cock. "Yes, we need to talk... but not right now." She rose up in the air and wrapped her thighs around his head. "Right now, I have tension of my own to release. So get busy, lover." Kal grinned. "This looks like a job... for Superman!"