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Dick rolled over and wrapped his arms around Donna. “How do you feel about waking up to a quick fuck?”

Donna smiled. Even his foul language did not put her off this time. She wondered what woman had taught him to romance a girl so vulgarly—they hadn’t always been so close, and she hadn’t really kept tabs on his love life until it involved her. She doubted it was anyone truly sleazy. At worst, they’d be uninhibited sorts like her old friend Kory.

She was glad in a way that he was responding to her bold overtures, like wearing such a skimpy negligee to bed. Ever since they'd come to New York, he seemed to be devoting all his concentration to policework (official and unofficial) and very little to her. She was afraid that even having had two children together, they were somehow drifting apart in a subtle way. Now in the evenings he was often too tired or busy to give her the attention she needed, and recently they'd been making love very little. This bothered her, not because she felt an overwhelming need to make love, but because Dick's ardor for her seemed to have diminished. She wondered, was familiarity breeding contempt, or at least boredom?

Then she felt Dick’s erection at her back. Nothing bored about that.

She just hoped he was true to his word about the ‘quick’ part. The kids would be up soon, and they wouldn’t get a chance after that—not with the plane trip to Themyscira that afternoon.

Although… were they technically part of the Mile-High Club if they hadn’t done it in an airplane?

***

Tim and Cassie Drake lived in Blackheath, a fashionable suburb on the outskirts of Gotham. It had been Cassie's idea to move there when he had started to make enough money as a young executive, but she had soon regretted her decision, when she realized that commuting time between home and the office was going to cut drastically into their ‘personal’ time. Tim worked hard and was getting ahead at Wayne Enterprises, and on his own merits too, but Cassie now found herself frustrated all the time.

She wondered if she should take a lover.

But she didn't seriously consider that, because she knew that her husband was working so hard to make a secure future for them. Now, hearing him rattling around in the kitchen, she regretted even the thought. At least she could make his breakfast, she thought, and got up and pulled a negligee over her lush curves.

She paused and looked in the mirror, smiling at her reflection with a touch of narcissism.

She could see the outline of her dark pubic triangle through the filmy negligee. Then she sighed. What was the point of looking sexy when Tim had to rush off to his job?

She went down to the kitchen where Tim was drinking coffee.

"Let me make you some breakfast," she said.

"No time," he said. "I'm driving today. I have to pick up Bill, he'll be waiting for me. And if I’m ever going to get this project done before we leave for Paradise Island—"

He put the coffee cup down and looked at his watch. Cassie moved towards him. The sheer negligee drifted over her lush curves and her naked thigh came out as she stepped, but her husband's eyes never drifted over her body.

He gave her a hurried kiss and hastened off. Damn, thought the frustrated housewife.

She heard the car start and drifted over to the kitchen window.

Tim was driving past the house and Bill Maron, their next-door neighbor, was just coming out of his own house.

Cassie wondered if Leslie Maron was as frustrated as she was. Tim and Bill worked together and alternated driving into town. Leslie couldn't have any more time with Bill than Cassie did with Tim, but Cassie had never figured that frustration was one of the miseries that benefited from company. And maybe her friend Leslie did not have such a powerful sex drive, either, although she certainly looked sexy enough.

Cassie decided that she would ask her neighbor about her sex life. They were good friends and could speak openly of such matters.

She watched Bill get in the car. The car moved off down the street. The next house in line was the Smiths', and as she watched her husband drive past there Cassie thought that Jane Smith must be lucky. At least she would be lucky for a while, because Jane and her husband Barry were newlyweds who had just moved into the suburbs.

They must screw plenty, thought Cassie, with envy.

What a difference a few years and a promotion could make to one's sex life, she thought wistfully.

She rubbed her swollen belly, thinking that at this rate, her baby would never have a sibling.

***

"Guess Sharon and Ruth must have lined themselves up a couple of dates," Helena remarked as she put down her newspaper. It was late Friday afternoon and the attractive teacher was looking for some diversion.

"I suppose so," Kara replied, glancing quickly at her roommate.

"Don't see you going out on many dates," Helena said in a candid voice, deliberately watching the shapely platinum blonde to see what her reaction would be. She had seen that Kara was spending a great deal of time with Dinah Lance, and suspected what their relationship might be.

"Well, I've been rather busy," Kara replied defensively. It was obvious that she was somewhat uncomfortable.

"I see you with Dinah pretty often," Helena boldly ventured.

Kara flushed and kept her eyes averted. "Dinah’s new to the city and she’s having trouble adjusting," she managed to reply.

Helena was tempted to laugh, but instead smiled knowingly at her companion. "Well, I'm sure you're making things a lot easier for her," she said with tongue in cheek.

"I hope you're not suggesting that there's something improper about our relationship," Kara replied.

"No way," Helena said. "You’ve got it all wrong. I'm really much more broadminded than you might think."

"Oh?" Kara broke in.

Helena could discern the other woman's obvious surprise. "Sure," she continued. "I talk a lot about cock but I know that's not all there is." Their eyes met and she could see the sudden look of interest in Kara's face.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," the shapely blonde remarked nervously.

Helena stood up. "Come here, Kara!" she said in a confident voice.

Kara hesitated for a moment and then stood up. She was several inches shorter than her companion, and looked quite uncertain as she walked over to her. Helena quickly tilted her chin upward and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Kara's reserve quickly melted and, their arms entwined, the two women exchanged an openmouthed kiss.

"Now do you know what I mean?" Helena asked with a smile.

Kara nodded. "You know that. I never even suspected that you might be..." She let her words trail off.

"Let's go upstairs," Helena suggested. "You can see everything I ‘might be’."

"All right!" Kara agreed.

Then Dinah came in, either genuinely not caring or pretending not to notice as the two women scurried apart.

"Are you packed?" Dinah asked wearily, her pear-shaped tits pressing against the thin material of her tee-shirt. “Our flight’s tomorrow morning.”

"Yeah, what am I going to do if I miss it?” Kara retorted as she gazed at her mentor's long legs and slim hips. “Fly myself?”

“Juggling your luggage the whole way?” Helena asked. She knew of what she spoke: she already had one luggage cart filled and Kara wouldn’t be surprised if she made two trips. 

“I can just wear my Power Girl costume the whole time,” Kara said. “All the Amazons love it.”

“I bet they do,” Dinah said.

“Variety is the spice of life,” Helena said. “Besides, what’ll you wear if it gets dirty? Those Amazons don’t play softball.”

“Why should I wear anything at all?” Kara asked. “It is Paradise, after all.”

“Just get packed,” Dinah said, “or I’ll tell everyone not to loan you a goddamn thing. See how pretty you feel after going three days without a cute top.”

Kara pouted, but gave in. She couldn’t get too down when there was a trip to Themyscira in the offering, especially when Bruce would be there.

Not that it was the sex that made Paradise Island paradise to her. There was something overwhelmingly exciting about fucking, true—but, then, everyone knew that. It was more than the fucking, though, that turned her on. It was the whole scene—no one being exploited, nobody uptight, no one feeling ashamed and dirty. It was so obviously beautiful that she wondered why there were so many people in this world who’d want to live any other way.

***

Bruce was just watching the training when it happened, although a man like Bruce was never ‘just’ doing anything. Although he was observing his biological children as they ran the obstacle course the Amazons had set up, he trusted both the kids to get through it and the Amazons to set up a safe challenge to their skills. Physically, he had his arm around Diana’s waist, and was stroking a section of skin under her ribs that was exposed by her robes. It was warm, as Diana always was warm, and warmer still with the sun shining down into it until her sweat-glistened flesh shone like a mirror, or like the moon, collecting the sun’s rays in the night.

And mentally, he was thinking of the children of the Bat, those he had trained in various ways. Perhaps not intending to be a father figure to them, but now finding himself still and always a kind of mentor to Dick and Tim. Less so to Dinah, Kara, and Helena, but they still looked up to him. Of course, he respected them as equals, but there was a loving submission in the girls’ relationship to him, as Diana put it. They sought to please him, he strove to properly care for them. It was in many ways more congenial than the frequently antagonistic relationship he enjoyed with his sons, who he’d unthinkingly brought up to be as willful as him.

It wasn’t something he regretted. He knew there were things they were struggling with—how could Dick not struggle, with two children, or Tim with a first-time pregnancy? But he also knew they would overcome those struggles, as the twins would overcome whatever obstacles the Amazons placed in front of them. Wherever he turned his gaze, he had a lot to be proud of.

Then the attack came.

In Themyscira—perhaps only in Themyscira—he allowed himself to feel safe. The explosions came as a complete surprise to him. If he’d been his usual paranoid self, the pressure wave from the nearest blast would’ve come like a brisk slap to him. Instead, it caught him completely unprepared. It was like being dropped into freezing water out of a hot summer day. He nearly blacked out as the violence ripped through the calm, composed world he had let inside himself.

He recovered to the friction of Diana’s body against his. She had taken hold of him, shielded him against the blast, and the feel of her flesh pressed to him gave an odd element of erotic frisson to the scene. He quickly disregarded it, looking out at the city. The shelling or bombing had apparently been at random. He could see a widespread but uncoordinated pattern to the smoking craters and plumes of flame, both in the distance and close to home.

And now the paratroopers were coming in, although hardly conventionally. They came down like meteors, landing in skidding crashes, then erecting themselves from the dented capsules. Robots. Now that the explosions had softened them up, the ground troops were meant to make the kill.

Hippolyta had come to the same conclusion. Bruce could hear her shouting orders in Greek, obviously not wanting to give away her strategy to any outsiders that might overhear. He didn’t have the luxury of doing the same. Dick and Tim had rallied to him, and he could see the women doing the same. He took a moment to compose a battle plan in his head and was saying it by the time his team arrived.

“Cassie, get the children to safety.”

“I can fight!” she argued.

“You’re pregnant,” he cut her off simply. “Dick, Donna, you find the source of the bombing. If it’s on land, call in a strike. Kara, you’re in the sky. Take out anything they have in the air. Tim, Helena, Dinah, you’re with me. Engage the enemy, but stay close. We don’t have any advantage if we don’t work together.”

“And me?” Diana asked, almost amused, even in the heat of battle.

Hippolyta cried out for her, calling her by the Grecian pronunciation of her name. 

“I know you were their princess before you were my wife,” Bruce said.

Diana nodded, then sped off to answer her queen.

***

Shayera and Artemis had just arrived on Themyscira when the attack began. They heard the ear-splitting roar of the explosions and saw the smoke rising over Themyscira. By the time Bruce was giving orders in the capital city, they had changed into their armor and were rushing from the shoreline to the war zone. Shayera flew low to the ground, both to avoid detection and to communicate with Artemis.

“What’s the plan of attack?” she asked, deferring to Artemis as this was her home turf.

They crested a hill and saw the devastation in full. Artemis paused a moment to take it in, while Shayera landed fitfully. They could see multiple robots firing indiscriminately around, causing lots of damage, but seeming to accomplish little other than drawing counterattacks from the Amazons. As much as Artemis itched to engage them, her instincts told her there was more to it.

There! Half-hidden by a ring of fire caused by the bombs, an aerial ship was landing in the city square. More of the robots circled it, clearly guarding the operation. 

“There!” Artemis said, pointing. “Make for that ship! Take out as many of them as you can!”

That seemed to be all the plan Artemis needed. She ran off, drawing an arrow from her quiver, while Shayera took to the sky. As she set up a dive attack, she activated the communicator inside her helmet. “This is Hawkgirl. Anyone read me?”

***

As safe as Bruce felt on Paradise Island—usually—he was never without his comm. Polishing off a robot with a heavy-handed swing from his ax, he backed off to slip the communicator out of his jacket and onto his ear. “Batman.”

“Hawkgirl,” Shayera identified herself. “Artemis and I are coming in from the southeast, where are you?”

Bruce sensed an attack in progress and blocked a blow from a robot, grunting as its strength matched against his, then quickly side-stepping the attack and knowing the thing off-balance with a sharp kick, before decapitating it. He hacked into the power unit in its chest for good measure. 

All around him, Helena, Dinah, and Tim were in similar straits. Bruce was the pointman, leading the charge and keeping the attackers focused on him, while Tim brought up the rear with his bo staff. Helena used her crossbow from a distance, and Dinah was their secret weapon, her long-legged kicks actually taking down a few robots before she resorted to her Canary cry. It always came as a surprise.

“We’re in the east quarter of the city,” Bruce said, “drawing as much fire as we can.”

“You know about the airship in the city square?”

“Now I do,” Bruce said. He clicked off the comm. “Everyone, press east!”

***

Shayera could make them out now—a moving arrowhead that rolled through the enemy line like a bulldozer, the four heroes fighting like four hundred, switching places and overlapping and juking to keep the robots from being able to mount any effective defense. It would be mere minutes before they reached the landed ship, but they’d picked up a small army of robots right on their tails. 

Spiraling up into the air, Hawkgirl brought her wings in and allowed gravity to suck her down, gradually extending her wings again to turn her fall into an arc. She swept down the avenue Bruce was on, going right over his head, casually flicking her mace to take out a few robots on her way before she hurled headlong into the mass that was flanking Bruce. With a roundhouse swing of her mace, she took out seven in one blow, then arced out her wings to let their Nth-metal scythe through enemies as well.

The robots piled on her, their disembodied remains quickly coming up to her knees. She wasn’t worried. She could hold her own, and with Bruce freed of pursuit, he could take care of that airship.

***

Kara swept her heatvision through the sky, taking out a swath of deploying robots literally as quick as the eye could see, and also sizzling through some dark storm clouds that melted into descending fog around the laser beams. As far as she could tell, the pod-robots were being launched from a ship off-shore, but the enemy had contrived to hide it beyond the maelstrom that should have protected Paradise Island from outsiders. 

Her more pressing concern was the airship taking off from Themyscira. It definitely wasn’t Amazon, and its cruel angles and light-punishing black hull matched what she’d seen of the robots. The enemy. And whatever they’d done in the city, it was a sure bet she didn’t want them to get away with.

Nonetheless, she carefully X-rayed the airship before making any offensive move. It almost seemed to be unmanned, except that she detected two lifesigns, small and close together. The sight called for more attention—they looked like midgets to her admittedly imprecise X-ray vision, and what were the odds that two of those would be manning an otherwise empty, automated craft? Could they be aliens? Their technology, as advanced as it was, seemed terrestrial…

Kara put aside her questions for now. Whoever they were, she couldn’t condemn them to death by destroying or downing the airship with them in it. Instead, she’d try to simply disable it. As the airship took off, she faced it head-on and made an attack run straight at its nose. Her X-rays put the occupants squarely in the rear of the vessel, so a good hit might shake them up a little, but shouldn’t do any lasting harm. Kara checked herself, only employing a fraction of her massive strength as she went on the offensive.

And found herself bounced off the hull like a bird errantly hitting a window. She’d dented it, certainly—she’d heard the squeal of metal and electronics cracking inside—but the metal was far hardier than she’d realized. Molybdenum-steel… she’d mistaken it for a far lower grade material. Power Girl turned, shaken but determined, even as she felt a trickle of blood from one nostril. The airship was rapidly passing her, the great engines in rear of it coming into view. And they fired, the concussive blast hitting Kara with the sharpness and suddenness of a blade slipping inside her.

***

“How is she?” Bruce asked. He tried to keep his voice down, mindful of his place here, but the sight of Kara wrapped in bandages took away from his calm in a way that was not easily replaced.

The airship had fled just before he and his forces had reached it, though he doubted the two were closely related. This offensive was looking more like a smash and grab the more he talked to the others. All they’d accomplished was to mop up the robots. It seemed clear they’d been meant to occupy the Amazon army for much longer than they had. Already, the island was rebuilding.

“She’ll be fine,” Diana said. She had found Kara and brought her to the healers after catching her in mid-air. Bruce didn’t want to think what a fall from that height would’ve done to Kara in her weakened condition. “But not for a while. We can’t use the Purple Ray—it was taken in the battle.”

Bruce was taken aback. “At least we know what they came here for.”

“We know what they took,” Diana corrected him. “But not what they came for. There are any numbers of ways the Purple Ray could be used.”

Bruce’s comm shook. Teeth gritted, he answered it. “Batman.”

“Daddy?”

Bruce’s teeth nearly cracked together. Although he was motionless with shock, his eyes frantically scanned for Cassie. I told her to get the children to safety… this doesn’t sound like a safe child.

“Don’t be mad, daddy,” Tom said, his voice hushed, trying to be strong. “We snuck away. We saw them taking something out of the healer’s hall—“

“Where are you?” Bruce insisted.

“Inside the ship. It’s weird. There’s barely any room to move and we can’t hear anything but the machines. It’s cold…”

“Is there anyone else onboard?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Alright, stay put for now, try not to disturb anything. It could be no one knows you’re there. Unless you’re in danger, try to keep it that way.”

***

He ran the calculations almost before the computer on his phone could. The airship was on a course for Germany. The Cessna could make it there, but it certainly couldn’t intercept. And Diana’s jet had been damaged in the attack.

Bruce kept from grinding his teeth, but only just. The restless energy inside him felt like it could burst out of his body all on its own. 

Distantly, he could hear Diana. She’d borrowed his comm to talk to the twins. He could hear her reassuring them, keeping them calm, making them feel safe when they weren’t. She’d always been better at that than him.

“Once we’re in the air, we should limit transmissions,” he told her. “The less chance of giving away our position, the better.”

“We’re leaving?” she asked.

He nodded. “Right now.”

***

The flight passed in the airless restlessness of a worried patience. There was nothing either of them could do but keep the plane on course, knowing that hundreds of miles ahead of them, the airship was following the same path. And that at any moment, their children could be discovered and threatened. That they might already be.

After a sleepless night, they landed early morning in Berlin. Bruce was in no mood to put on a playboy act, nor Diana to play goodwill ambassador, but Alfred had thankfully made provisions for a discreet landing and no-questions-asked stay. Within moments, their rented car was on the road to the warehouse outside the city where they’d traced the airship. Their only luggage was their costumes. 

Just as the day was starting, they arrived at the wood-shrouded path that, with a few more turns from the autobahn, would become the driveway of the warehouse. Tom and Elissa had obediently hidden out of sight in the forest, and as the car turned off the road and drove a little ways between the trees, they came out.

Diana nearly took off her car door getting out, while Bruce barely managed to put the car in park. Diana caught Elissa first, while Tom launched himself into Bruce’s arms. 

Bruce tried to keep separate his warring emotions. He was holding Tom tight enough to crush him, there was a cruel grumble in his voice, but he also wanted to assure Tom that the danger was past. Doubtlessly, Tom and Elissa hadn’t realized the danger they’d placed themselves in and the long, uncertain wait was more than punishment enough for their foolishness. He restrained the urge to punish them further, to grind the lesson into them, to satisfy himself this would never happen again. That would be more for his benefit than theirs, and he was loath to make any parenting decision while he was this upset.

Looking over at Diana, he could see the same conflict in her, though she wore it more graciously. She was able to calm herself and assuage Elissa’s fright, something Bruce was in no state to do.

“Are you hurt?” Bruce asked.

“No, sir.”

“Wait in the car,” Bruce told him. “I’m very glad you’re okay, but you have to wait in the car.”

***

A quick costume change later, he and Diana were staking out the warehouse. Surrounded on all sides by dense woods, far off the highway, and rusted enough to look half-abandoned, it would be an ideal hide-out for any Gotham villain.

“We could just leave,” Diana said. “The Amazons can have a strike force here in a few hours.”

“It would mean a long talk with the twins,” Bruce replied. “I’ll be a lot more confident in my parenting skills once I’ve broken a few bones.”

Diana smiled wanly. “Quite the contradiction, in the abstract. We train them to be warriors, then get upset when they go to war.”

“You approve?”

“No,” Diana said quickly. “But this isn’t going to be the first time they have their own idea about how to go about things. We might as well start getting used to it now.”

“I’m never going to be used to it.”

“Well, there’s that too.”

“I make seven tangoes, signs of landing and refueling, but nowhere they could conceal a vehicle that size.”

“If we go in hot, they’ll know we’re onto them.”

“They attacked Themyscira. They’ve already assumed we’re onto them.”

***

The takedown was over quick. The opposition was packing reactive armor and lase-guns, but they were still human. And in Diana, Bruce had brought a tank to the fight.

He wondered she thought of him as, in a fight. Maybe a grenade. Just stand clear and let him explode, as long as you didn’t want too much left of the enemy.

In this case, that was one man, conscious at least.

With the golden lasso around him, there wasn’t much point in interrogating him, but Bruce liked to make himself useful.

“Bullet points,” he said. “And English. I’m in no mood to translate.”

“The Fourth Reich,” the man said, in the agonized/relieved rush of submitting to the lasso. “Superweapons from your tech. Bavarian Alps—took it all there.”

One of the downed men groaned as he came to. Diana moved the lasso to him, leaving Bruce to knock out the one they’d been interrogating. There was no harm in confirming.

***

Four of the men agreed on the specifics. The rest were practically comatose. It was unusual for Diana to leave such high threats so easily roused, but Bruce guessed that in her anger, she was being especially cautious with her attacks so as not to unintentionally do lasting harm. It was a skill he’d never managed to pick up.

Alfred had already made provisions for the children to be taken to a safe place. Neither Bruce nor Diana wanted them in transit for the foreseeable future, but Alfred’s old war buddy was well-suited to keep the twins well-protected and out of trouble until this had all blown over or been blown over.

He’d also provided for a hotel room, sensing too that they would need to rest after the nonstop momentum of the past twenty-four hours. 

***

Diana stumbled inside the apartment, taking off her uncomfortable armor. She was caked with mud and sweat beneath it and she smelled like a dog. Rather than undress in the cramped bathroom she took the garments off outside and trundled tiredly inside.

It was not the fight that had tired her—either of them—but the stress of the long flight. Even for a Wonder Woman, there was only so long she could run with her adrenaline pumping and her heart pounding before she needed to stop. If it had been nonstop combat, she would’ve been more calm and in control.

She took a towel and soap from the pantry and trailed it behind her as she went down the corridor to the shower.

I hope Bruce isn’t using it; I don't think I'd be willing to wait. She mused to herself.

But it was free after all. Quickly, Diana adjusted the water to a fine hot spray and gratefully plunged beneath the soothing liquid. She let the warmth sink into her tired, bruised body and slumped against the wall.

After nearly half an hour she soaped herself until she felt refreshed and then adjusted the temperature until the needle pointed to water that was icy cold. She shivered for a few moments with her teeth clenched, then finally shut the water off and stepped out of the stall.

She rubbed her goosepimpled flesh briskly until it glowed with new life. Her throat was raw and tender where a strangling robotic hand had chafed her skin. Her shoulder ached and the scratches on her hip smarted from a blast she had taken in the warehouse. And underneath it all her body wracked with fatigue. It was as if she were a balloon suddenly deflated and she felt almost sick for the need of sleep. 

The door opened and she saw Bruce there. He too had undressed outside the bathroom. Wordlessly, but with a small nod, he pushed past her and got into the tub, turning the water back on full blast.

Diana stood naked by the edge of the tub, drying her black curls with brisk strokes of a fleecy white towel. Bruce mirrored her in the hot, swirling water, letting it massage strength back into his powerful frame. 

"What a day,” she said, pulling the towel across her back. Her firm breasts jiggled as she worked her arms back and forth. Her thrusting nipples were bright with little beads of water that sparkled like diamonds.

“At least it’s over.”

“For now,” Diana said. “Does this establishment have room service? I could use dinner.”

“So could I. We could always order in. If you answer the door like that, we wouldn’t even have to tip.”

She whirled the damp towel into a long twisted coil and snapped it dangerously near the tip of his dangling cock.

"Diana!" He grabbed the towel before she could yank it back. She giggled and squirmed as he pulled her into his arms.

For as stoic as the Batman could be, the relief he clearly felt over how well everything had worked out was infectious. Diana found herself wanting to celebrate as badly as him.

He picked her up and carried her toward the bed.

"I thought you wanted dinner," she said coyly.

"I do. But I'm going to enjoy an appetizer first!" They tumbled on to the bed together, and he buried his face in her sweet pussy.

"Huunnngh!" she groaned, arching her back and quaking beneath him as she felt the pressure of his tongue. It slid down one puffy lip of her sex, up the other, and then circled to find her clit.

The taste of her pussy made Bruce’s cock begin to throb, and her joyous writhing made his heart race. It was like going into battle, only the only thing that could satisfy his lust her was to please Diana to the utmost.

Diana slid her hands down and fingered the lips of her pussy apart, baring the soft pink flesh between. "Suck that," she said. "Spear my cunt with your tongue. Nothing makes me want to fuck more than having my pussy licked."

Diana had discovered the pleasure points of her body early in life. Long before she’d taken a lover, she found excitement stroking and probing her womanhood. It got better as she grew older, as her feminine instincts and senses matured. Even now, she could spark thrilling climaxes with her own hands.

"Up a little higher!" she cried. "Get it under my clit and lift it. Hhhmmmmm, yeah. Now spin my clit with your tongue. Unngh!"

Bruce enjoyed her frankness and the easy way she guided him toward making her pleasure extreme. He felt as anxious and compelled to fuck as when they had first met, but now in a different way. He found it easier to hold his own passions in control in order to satisfy hers. He wanted to hear her gasp and moan and finally scream at the thrilling peak of her next climax. Only by giving her that thrilling shock of ecstasy could he feel fully satisfied himself.

Realizing that sent a shiver up his back. The selfless desire to share was a definition of love—maybe the best definition there is. It wasn't just lust he felt for her now. Somehow, she'd broken through the tough, uncaring shell formed over the years.

Bruce felt suddenly vulnerable. As a matter of fact, he felt like an ass for letting it happen.

"Ooohhhhhhoooo, Bruce!" she wailed. "Your tongue is driving me crazy! Lap and suck me some more. I love it. Hhhhmmmmm, I love what you're doing to my cunt!"

Diana spread her legs and lifted them straight up, then pulled them toward her head. She lay upon her back, looking up between her feet at their reflection in the mirror.

Bruce's head bobbed up and down in the valley of dark cunt hair. He licked and smacked the pungent cream rising from her. His hands slid up her sides, making her writhe with delight, twisting and grinding her flesh against the silky, fur-like spread.

"Oooooh, GOD! Make me cum with your tongue, Bruce. Keep fucking into me until I scream!"

He'd planned to do exactly that, and then start fucking her before the heat and tremors of her orgasm passed. When her clit swelled, and he could suck the little nub between his lips, he ground his chin on the soft lips of her cunt.

"Uuuunangh, Christ. Ooooggghhhhh!" Nothing could compare to the tossing waves of pleasure she felt now. He lipped her bulging clit first, until it swelled hard, and then he raked it with his bared teeth.

"Ooooh, you bastard—you big, beautiful, cunt-sucking bastard! Eat me, damn you. Eat me alive! I want to gush all over your face!"

He could feel the damp warmth spreading already. It ran around his lips and dribbled off his chin. He lowered his head, rocking it up and down until his nose pressed on her aching little clit while his tongue slid in and out of her slit.

"Grrruuungh!" she moaned. Her eyes fluttered, and the scene of lust in the mirror above seemed to flicker like an old silent movie. "That's it! Huuummmph! Stab your tongue in my cunt deep. Deeper! Oh, Goddamn... you give the greatest head!"

He felt tremendous satisfaction each time her lithe body jerked, each time she lifted her cunt with a squeal of delight. By giving her what she wanted, he was getting back even more. He liked the taste of her sweet, freshly washed pussy. The juices gushed from her cunt, flooding his mouth with a musky tang. He liked even more the way the sinewy walls of her passage gripped and fucked on his tongue.

"AAAAGGGGHHHHHH!" she cried. "That's enough! Hhhmmmm, I'm cumming. Just let me relax and enjoy the tremors!"

Bruce lifted his head, pinning as he realized how long and hard his massive cock had grown while sucking her cunt. He rose up on his knees and moved forward, supporting himself above her on his elbows.

The knob of his cock pressed in where only moments before his tongue had done its lewd dance. "Oh, no!" she cried. "Not now. I can't take any more!" She still shuddered from jabbing sparks of orgasm.

He dug his cockhead into her pussy despite her half-hearted protest. It was good before—great now. Bruce's cock had never felt such fiery waves of tension. Her cunt felt tight and wet and alive with seething spasms.

"Oooooh, you bastard! Nooooo!"

But he gave her more and watched her taut lips curl. "You fucker! You fucker! Uuuunnnnnnnnngh!" Her jangled nerves and twitching muscles resisted him at first. Her pussy squeezed together to keep his cock out.

That made pushing into her cunt all the better. The walls of her tunnel parted stubbornly, clinging and writhing, trying to wring the life out of his cock before the pleasure drove her completely insane.

"Qooooh, shit! Qoooh, shhhhit!"

It was a cry of surrender. No amount of clenching would keep his cock from driving deep into her cunt. She hissed, lowered her legs, and jerked her ass up off the bed.

"All right! Fuck me, damn you! Ravish me, if that's what you want!"

If what they were doing could be called ravishing, Bruce's cock was the victim. The wild wrenching passage inside her attacked his shaft with a wild fury. Pulsing waves ran up and down his prick, sucking it in one moment, trying to heave it out the next.

"You've never been better," he said.

"N-n-neither have you!" She loved the torment his huge cock brought her. With one climax not yet over, another was on its way. She gasped and held her breath, fearful of the huge wave of ecstasy she felt cresting now.

"Oooh, you bastard. It feels so good—it hurts! It hurts!"

"In your head, maybe. Your pussy loves it."

"Oh, yes... it does! My cunt wants more pain because it feels so good!"

Bruce kept grunting and whipping his cock in and out, giving her exactly what her body craved—first the pain, and then the blazing glory of complete relief.

It was the best climax of Diana's life. The best for Bruce too. His lusty cock shot jism until it hurt, and still her pussy was sucking and swirling and begging silently for more.