Spent, I relaxed, my body sinking down into the mattress. With a final brush of my now-shrunken cock, she levitated up the bed. With some abrupt gestures, she removed her boots and bracelets, which clattered to the floor, leaving her naked except for her jewelry. She then descended, slowly coming to rest at my side. She rested her head on my shoulder, one arm across my chest and one leg draped possessively over my lower body. We lay together in what was, for me, a post-coital glow. After a moment, I spoke. "Thank you." My voice was hoarse and soft.
The room was half-lit by the lamps in the other room, so we were mostly in darkness, but there was enough light to see her mysterious smile. "You're welcome." She was silent then. "I'm very grateful," I continued, "but I must confess, I'm surprised too." After a moment she answered my unspoken question. "Mmmm. For one thing, I did owe you a debt of gratitude. For another, you please me... I read your book, you know, and it was well done, both in intent and execution. We share a similar interest, which makes us comrades, after a fashion. Most importantly, though, you said nothing about the details of our encounter with Magnus. That proved to me you have discretion."
With the same feline grace that characterized all of her movements, she rose up and rolled over, onto me, squatting on my hips. Her legs gently pushed against my torso, and once again her generous breasts presented themselves to me in all their glory. Unable to resist, I reached up and began to fondle them, squeezing them in my hands, rubbing her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers so that they became erect. "People tell lots of stupid stories about me. Some say that I'm a lesbian, as I come from an island of women who have chosen to separate themselves from men. Such separatism, these people reason, invariably means Sapphic tastes. This isn't true; we Amazons aren't parochial. We enjoy sexual congress with each other, but also with men, when the opportunity arises." She tacitly acknowledged my caresses by breathing deeply, so that her breasts strained against my hands. "Others say that my powers come from abstinence, and that if I ever had sex with a man, I'd become no more than any other mortal woman. This is also not true; my powers spring from my nature. The idea that sex could make me powerless is another manifestation of the twisted ideas about gender roles that I have come to Patriarch's World to combat."
She raised herself slightly in mid-air, so that her weight no longer rested on me. Reaching down, she pulled me into a sitting position. As she had done before, on the couch, she gently pressed her breasts into my face, enveloping me, and used her hands to compress them. For my part, I reached out and grabbed her buttocks, squeezing and stroking them hard. Of course, she didn't object; I'd have needed the strength of Superman to make her really feel it. She kept speaking while all this was going on, as self-assured as if giving a speech to the United Nations (which I had seen her do, once, on TV.) "My sexual appetites are as strong as any woman's, and perhaps stronger, just as my other attributes are greater than a mortal's. To satisfy them openly, however, would serve to diminish my effectiveness as my people's Ambassador; in Patriarch's World, a woman ceases to be taken seriously when it becomes clear she has taken a lover. In time I hope to change that attitude, but I'm a realist; doing so will take time, and I'm not willing to remain celibate until then. There is also the fact that if the identities of my paramours were known, it would also put them in danger, for a foe might seek to take advantage of me by striking through them."
I pulled my head out of her embrace, and began licking and kissing her breasts, bracing myself against her shoulder blades. A small shudder of pleasure escaped her, and she grabbed my shoulder blades in turn, and began to massage them gently. She uncrossed her legs and encircled my chest with them, holding me tight but not uncomfortably so. "So I take my lovers where I can find them, provided they are handsome..." She kissed the top of my head. "Respectful of Amazon ways..." She kissed my head again. "And know how to keep their mouths shut." She lowered herself so she was sitting on the bed again. We still embraced each other, but now we could see directly into each other's eyes. "You fit the bill," she said, and softly pressed her lips against mine. I wanted more; I pressed my tongue against her lips and we kissed deeply.
My cock perked up again; though still soft, it had begun to regain something of its previous stature, and it started to push against her thigh. She laughed, like the tinkle of silver bells. "Praise to Aphrodite; another of her gifts to me. My lovers recuperate quickly." She broke free, rose up in the air, and pushed me down onto the bed. With a quick mid-air maneuver she positioned herself above me, so that her crotch rested just above my mouth. Her public hair was dainty, a small patch, but her sex was engorged, the labia and clitoris pink and glistening in the half-light. "Some reciprocity is in order, I think," she laughed. Slowly, she descended until her slit was at my mouth. I didn't need any more encouragement. Grabbing her legs to brace myself, I began licking her with a passion.
Her vaginal juices were rich and sweet, but I hardly noticed as I set myself to work. The fact that she was lubed at all told me she really had enjoyed her oral ministrations on me before, which meant I owed her as vigourous a performance as I could give. Her clit expanded in my mouth as I licked and sucked it; I had feared that my mortal strength was insufficient to please her, and I was gratified to see I was wrong. She was vocal in her pleasure. While she had worked on me I had been silent, except for a few grunts and gasps, but she was cut from a different cloth. My initial laps at her cunt immediately elicited moans of joy, but as I found my rhythm, those moans became little cries, then big cries. As my tempo increased, she began shouting scraps of Greek. The dialect was unfamiliar, but even if it hadn't been I doubt I would have been able to muster the concentration to translate, so focused was I on my task. As it was, I was grateful my cabin had no neighbours for miles, for otherwise they'd have had no doubt as to what I was up to.
Suddenly, without warning, she rose up, breaking contact with me. She whirled about so she faced the other way, towards the end of the bed instead of the front, then lowered herself again, shifting her angle slightly so I could reach her slit. I only wondered a moment what she was doing, for after a second I felt her hands on my cock, rubbing it urgently. Her hands were lubed, with spit or her own juices I didn't know, but it felt wonderful, and my prick, which had been gaining strength throughout this episode, was quickly a spear of iron again. She varied her approach, alternating between vigourous pumps of my cock with her hands and quick deepthroatings; I could only marvel at how lithe she was and try to reward her effort by taking care of her as well as she was taking care of me.
My tongue was getting tired and my cock tense, so I broke away from her and gasped, "I want you..." She responded immediately. With another mid-air whirl, she spun around to face me, our bodies parallel and only inches apart. "I want you this way," she commanded; she rose up, her body suspended above my cock, and gently brought herself down on top of me, penetrating herself with my member.
Her pussy was tight, the tightest I've ever had; another gift of Aphrodite, I imagine. She cried a little cry as I entered her, then began squeezing me, tightening her vaginal muscles and then relaxing them, then again, then again, then again. It was a curious lay. I did the best I could, but she did all the work; since her weight wasn't resting on me, I couldn't push up into her like I wanted. It didn't matter, because her efforts paid off for the both of us. Faster, faster, faster she moved, vibrating up and down on my cock; it was only a brief moment before I exploded. She didn't stop, though; even as my orgasm rocked me, come shooting out of me in spasm after spasm, she kept going, pressing herself down against me over and over; then, swiftly, she pulled off of me and hung in midair, her head tossed back, her mouth wide; she shuddered, and cried out, splitting the night with her scream of fulfillment. Then she descended, landing on the bed with a sudden impact, the wood creaking ominously at the sudden blow. Clumsily, her reflexes dulled by her exertions, she crawled up and lay atop me in a sprawling embrace. "Sorry," she said, her voice weak but satiated. "I might have hurt you if I came with you inside me."
"Don't worry about it," I managed. She might have said something else, but I don't remember what it was; I was asleep.
I woke up once in the night; she wasn't lying on top of me anymore, but beside me. I was in a predicament. My cock was sore from the workout it had received, but lying beside her for hours meant that Aphrodite's charms had done their work; despite my soreness, I was hard again, hard as steel. I rolled on top of her, those magnificent breasts pushing up against me. She knew what I wanted, from experience at this sort of problem, I suppose; she spread her legs and used her hands to guide me in. This time was less frantic than before, and more satisfying for me, too. It lasted longer, for one thing, and it was in the missionary position, my favourite, for another. The dreamlike quality-we were both only half-awake-helped, as well. I was ready, and after a few moments of thrusting, so was she, slick and sweet and tight. We built to a soft crescendo, me grunting, she giving little gasps of joy, both of us pushing in tandem. In a little while I came, my orgasm more a gentle release than the raging explosions of before. I kissed her, softly, when I was done, and lay on top of her for a time, smelling her hair and feeling her heart beat in the dark. Finally, I rolled away from her and fell asleep again, almost instantly. When I woke in the morning, she was gone.
I was surprised only briefly. She had made it clear, after all, that she wasn't making or expecting a commitment. Her vocation wouldn't allow her one. Like a priest, she had to remain free of entangling relationships, but unlike a priest, freedom from relationships didn't mean celibacy. It only meant her embraces would be fleeting, given where she could find opportunity. That was all she had offered, and I had taken it. I spent the morning in bed, thinking (and recovering from the night before); by the afternoon, I was packing. The next day I returned home and from there to my book tour. I was back to my real life, and I had left the superhuman world behind me.
As I said at the beginning, I don't expect to see her again. We had three brief meetings, the last almost a year ago now. We took what pleasure we could from one another, but the moment has passed. I don't regret this; wanting things we can't have, and things we don't have any right to, is one of the ways we blight our lives, a point I made in my book. One night was enough. And yet...
I get little personal mail. My readers don't know my address, and my friends and family simply call me on the phone. So I was taken aback when I got an unexpected letter recently. The envelope was addressed to me, but with no information about who had sent it. It had a Boston postmark. Inside was a page ripped from a desk calendar. There was nothing written on it, just a printed date. It is a date that happens to be coming up in a couple of weeks. It is a date that happens to be (I worked it out) the anniversary of my tryst with Diana.
I don't know for certain what it means. I'm trying to restrain my hopes. But on that day, I'll be back in my cabin in Michigan. The door will be unlocked. And a bottle of wine, with two glasses, will be on the table.