No recovery, just fucking

She didn’t give him a moment to recover. Her grip tightened and she began to pump him in earnest, a ruthless, perfect rhythm. A total of seven, eight, nine tugs. A shocking, full-body orgasm tore through the pizza guy. He couldn’t even groan anymore; he could only release a choked, airless gasp as another volley shot from him, adding to the mess that gleamed on her breastplate.

“By Hera, you are—” A splurt of cum hit her lips and she had to lick it away to finish her sentence, “...a fountain.”

He came and he came and he came. For nearly six minutes straight, his balls ached and spewed manly seed on the world’s most famous woman. This heaven lasted until the pizza guy wheezed, the spell the Lasso of Truth cast dissipated, and his cock drooped down. He wasn’t soft but he certainly wasn’t hard. A wet, hefty schlong that had experienced magic that it never would have from anyone else.

Only Wonder Woman could do this.

Only Wonder Woman could say, “Mmm, you did an amazing job. I believe it is time I paid in kind.”

She dropped to her knees. The Gotham City cobblestones were hard beneath her, but she paid them no mind. Her focus was absolute. She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of warrior’s triumph and sheer slutty hunger that was utterly disarming. The great Wonder Woman, on her knees for a pizza delivery boy.

She didn’t just take him into her mouth. She worshipped him. Her tongue, broad and wet, laved a thick stripe up the entire, hypersensitive length of him, collecting the beads of his continued, smaller releases. The leftovers that had nowhere to go.

Then she swallowed him down to the root in one smooth, practiced motion.

The heat was unimaginable. The pressure, divine. Her throat constricted around the head of his cock, massaging him, and another orgasm, smaller but no less intense, was milked from him directly down her throat.

Wonder Woman suspected the Lasso of Truth had momentarily placed his cock into a state of hypersensitivity. Any deepthroats and blowjobs and he would pop like a cracker, at least until his balls emptied out.

Which they weren’t.

Wonder Woman drank it greedily, a deep, satisfied sound echoing around him. She pulled back, lips slick and swollen, and grinned up at him. “The truth is, you almost taste even better than you look.”

“A-almost?”

She smiled. “Mhm. You don’t find yourself cute?”

“N-no, not really…”

“Then allow me to prove otherwise~!”

She slapped his cock against her cheek. She smiled cutely.

Then she swallowed his cock and set a brutal pace, bobbing her head up and down, up and down, taking him impossibly deep each time. Each descent of her mouth, each skilled flick of her tongue, each constriction of her throat triggered another helpless, shuddering climax from him. He was a prisoner of pleasure, chained to the phantom magic of the Lasso of Truth and Wonder Woman’s dedication.

He lost count.

He lost all sense of time and place. There was only her, and the endless, world-shattering peak she kept him suspended in.

Finally, with a gasp, she released him, a thin strand of saliva and seed connecting her lip to his throbbing crown. “Mmm, that was how many orgasms? Seven? And your balls still do not and your cock still does not droop.”

“T-thanks…?”

“You are like no man I have ever met. I need to feel you inside me again.” Wonder Woman, a greedy woman now. “Now.”

In one effortless motion, she surged to her feet, grabbed him by the shoulders, and threw him onto the ground. He landed on his back on the cold pavement. She was on him in an instant, straddling his hips, her powerful thighs caging him. Her cunt was already dripping and some of it flung onto his shirt.

The Wonder Pussy sank down onto him in one devastating second.

He cried out, his hands flying to her hips, feeling the incredible, dense pussy there as she began to move. She rode him like she rode the winds of Themyscira—with absolute command, a powerful, rolling rhythm that stole his mind. Her head was thrown back, her dark hair cascading down her back, a goddess lost in ecstasy.

“Oh Hera, oh Hera, OH HERRRAAA!!! I THINK I’M CUMMIIINNGGG!!!”

Each time she rose up, his slick, huge length almost leaving her, before she plunged back down, taking him to the hilt, sheathing him completely in her incredible heat.

“I-I’m going to fuck you till you can’t walk! I-I will!”

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!

The head throwing. The gasping. The whimpers. Wonder Woman’s words sounded empty.

They fucked like that for what felt like an eternity, when in reality it was five minutes. The moon travelled across the sky. He was still bound by the lasso, each sensation amplified a thousandfold, each of her inner flutters a new, shocking pleasure.

But slowly, imperceptibly at first, a shift began to occur. The pace she had set was furious, demanding. But he was not a mere mortal anymore; he was something else, a being of pure, sexual energy fueled by her own magical artifact. His hips began to move on their own, meeting her downward thrusts with an upward surge of his own.

A tiny frown marred Diana’s brow. She tried to reassert her rhythm, to dominate the pace, but his body responded with a power that pushed back. He gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into the firm flesh of her incredible ass, and he began to pound up into her.

“Wha—?” she gasped, her eyes flying open in shock.

He was driving into her now, his thrusts becoming deeper, more powerful, more animalistic. The tables had turned. The predator had become the prey. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her, crushing her against his chest as he fucked up into her from beneath. The cold metal of her breastplate pressed against his skin, a stark contrast to the burning heat between them.

His balls slapped up and up and up. His cock pistoned up, up, and up.

“N-no…! No! W-wait…”

Wonder Woman moaned, but it was a moan of overwhelmed pleasure, not protest. Her own composure was crumbling. Her powerful thighs, which had held him captive, began to tremble. Her head fell onto his shoulder, her breath coming in ragged, **** pants against his neck.

“Oh fuck, oh HERA!!! YOU’RE MAKING ME ADDICTED TO THIISSS!!!”

Her face left his neck. She released the lasso and kissed him. She furiously made-out with him.

The first faint light of dawn began to filter into the alley, painting the scene in hues of pale grey and gold. Now that her hands were no longer on the Lasso of Truth, it was the pizza guy’s turn. He rolled her over onto her hands and knees, her magnificent, round ass presented to him. He didn’t hesitate. He drove into her pusy from behind.

A whimper escaped her lips. A true, broken, submissive whimper. It was one thing to lose herself as Diana, the woman. It was another thing entirely to be conquered as Wonder Woman, the warrior. Her strength, her centuries of training, her divine power—none of it mattered against this. This was a **** of nature. This cock was far beyond any god.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!

“Oh, gods,” she cried out, her voice muffled against the pavement as he pounded into her, his hands holding her hips steady. “How… how are you…?”

He didn’t say a word. He just clapped her cheeks. He made Wonder Woman gasp and moan, all the while in costume. Her skirt was technically still, only that the shorts underneath were taken off. She didn’t wear panties, that would be pervy.

But if she got here and now, getting fucked by a man in a Gotham backalley…

Her reputation would be forever tarnished.

“CUMMMIIIING!! THIS COCK IS MAKING ME CUMMM!!!”

Her confusion was palpable, her submission complete. The mighty Amazon princess was being fucked senseless in a dirty alley, and all she could do was take it and whimper, her body shaking with a pleasure so intense it felt like defeat.

Bent over, getting fucked, it wasn’t right for her but it somehow was.

“Hey, now that the light is coming up…” CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! The pizza casually looked up at the sky. “Shouldn’t we do this somewhere else?”

A casual question that was met with a pathetic, cock-broken answer.

“Please don’t stop!!! PLEASEE!!

Her own legendary physical and mental strength seemed to evaporate under his cock’s touch, replaced by a trembling, breathless need.

He didn’t speak. He just looked down at her. He smiled and then he was driving into her, a single, devastating thrust that buried him to the hilt. A punched-out gasp escaped Diana’s lips, her head falling back against the ground.

This was different. This wasn't the frantic, overwhelming power Wonder Woman disaplyed. This was controlled. Purposeful. Each thrust was a deliberate, powerful claim, a piston-driven rhythm that hammered into the very core of her. Her Amazonian strength, her warrior’s discipline—it all melted away under this glorious cock ****.

“Yesss,” she hissed, the word a ragged breath. “Don’t hold back! Use your manly cock to FUCK me!”

Her eyes rolled back. She didn’t bother grinning as she slobbered like an animal. She looked oh-so beautiful on the cameras and on the newspaper. Right now, however, she looked stupid. She looked completely different. Still beautiful and blue-eyed with luscious black hair.

She was a classic beauty. Red lips, symmetrical, strong features, and ideal proportions. A big rack typically contained in her superhero costume, though hinting at it through a modest cut of the armour, and an amazing ass hidden by her skirt.

All these features, all this beauty, and it melted when this young man was around.

He was everywhere. The scent of him, sweat and man and pure arousal, filled her senses. The sight of his focused, intense expression behind her. The unbelievable feeling of his dick, so deep inside her, stretching her, filling her in a way she had never known was possible.

Her breath hitched with every impact, her moans growing louder, less controlled. She was the Princess of Themyscira, a demigoddess, and she was being utterly mastered in a grimy alley by a mortal. The thought should have shamed her. It should have ignited her pride.

Instead, it set her on fire.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!

Her booty slammed back. Her booty wanted this dick deeper and deeper and harder.

“Wonder Woman…!” he growled, the first word he’d spoken since taking control.

“M-my name is—”

Cut off by an orgasm.

“Your name? Don’t worry about that,” he said. “Let me just—”

Fuck you.

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!

“You’re Wonder Woman. Your pussy is wonderful, that’s all the matters!”

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!

It was the respect on his lips that shattered her completely. He didn’t mean her, he respected her as Wonder Woman.

Could a man still have respect for a woman that he was turning into a whore? The answer was yes.

Her back arched as her orgasm ripped through her, a silent, seismic wave of pleasure that left her vision spotting. Her internal muscles clenched around him, milking him, pulling him deeper still.

That was his undoing too.

With a final, earth-shattering thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could go. She felt the hot, sudden pulse of his release as he came inside her, a torrential flood that seemed to go on and on, filling her up in a way that was both possessive and uniquely intimate. A long, shuddering groan was torn from his chest as he emptied himself into her.

For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing mingling in the cool air. He collapsed onto her. Wonder Woman herself did not fall, fortunately. She stayed on all fours, her pussy tugging on his cock, not wanting the connection to break. The warmth of his seed inside her was a shocking, possessive brand.

She grabbed his face and kissed him. She then nuzzled into his neck, inhaling his scent, feeling more like a woman and less like a symbol than she had in centuries. Her voice was husky, thick with spent passion and a dawning, **** need for more. “Again,” she whispered against his skin, her hips giving a slight, involuntary roll. “Don’t stop. Keep fucking me. I need—”