No Dating for the Batman

Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, we don't own it and aren't making any money from this story.
 

Part Six: Consummation

They had shared a playful meal. Diana had pretended to be insulted when Bruce reclined on the sofa and asked teasingly if she was going to personally feed him the grapes on the platter. She retorted tartly that that was a Roman custom, not a Greek one, and certainly not a Themysciran one, and if he didn't know the difference by now, he was most certainly beyond hope. When he asked her for "private cultural lessons," with a Bruce Wayne leer, she had flown across the coffee table, knocked him off the sofa, and begun tickling him. Surreptitiously, he tried reaching out for his discarded utility belt, hoping to even the odds, but she spotted his motion out of the corner of her eye and pinned him down, laughing. "Hmm, it seems that my subject is not only hopeless, but helpless."

"Oh, I don't know…I think a revolution is brewing." Simultaneously, he caught her off guard and flipped her over until he sat astride her.

"A man on top? Isn't that deliciously different?!"

"You'd be surprised at the different things I can show you, Princess. But don't you think that your bed would be a…" he lightly swatted her thigh "…more appropriate place for the lessons?"

"We Amazons can learn anywhere, but I wouldn't want to damage you." And with that, Diana maneuvered out from under him, scooped him up, and flew back to the bedroom.

Bruce was surprised to feel how hot and wet she was already. As he nuzzled her breasts and glided the tip of his penis up and down her moist vulva, she suddenly clutched at him, moaning his name.

"Bruce! You…terrible…man. What are you…doing?" she asked breathlessly, her English suddenly taking a slight Greek sibilance.

"Terrible? Maybe I should stop."

"Not if you value your life you won't," was her ragged reply. "But I think it would be more appropriate," she said huskily, "if I were on top." And she practically body slammed him to the mattress, knocking the wind out him.

Her eyes widened. "Oh Hera! Are you… did I…"

"I'm… peachy…" was all he managed to get out for a few seconds. Then he started to laugh. "Just remember, I'm not unbreakable." He flipped her over and he pounced on her, now laughing hard. "Fortunately, you are!" His laughter was infections, more so since she didn't think she had ever heard him make such a sound.

He looked at her hungrily. "Now, where were we?"

"I think we were at the part where you put that magnificent thing right about…" her eyes were still twinkling with laughter "…right about here." She actually placed her fingers inside a bit and circled slightly, in a definitely inviting manner.

"Is that so? Well, you know us men – we're only good for one thing."

She rolled her eyes, then gave him a decidedly smoldering look. "I feel very empty, Bruce."

He decided to enter her slowly. Her eyes widened for a moment, then closed almost to slits. For his part, Bruce was trying not to have an immediate accident. She felt – different, as if she were glowing from inside. Maybe this is what Ulysses felt with Calypso. It was all he could do not to gasp.

She looked at him, languidly. "Am I…enjoyable?"

He swallowed. "You… you have no idea how wonderful you feel."

She replied coyly. "Just wait," and began a series of slow, rhythmic internal contractions in counterpoint to his inward strokes.

His breath caught and he could hardly hold back. "Diana – are you close?"

She murmured, "Almost" and he knew he had to stop for a moment. Pulling out partway, he caressed her labia and clitoris until he felt her uneven contractions around him. Through half-closed eyes, she moaned, "Please, Bruce," and grabbed his bottom, pulling him into her. It took only a few strokes before his moans echoed hers and they collapsed in each other's arms.

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