Dinner with Wonder Woman

“You can call me Diana, Doctor,” she said, her head tilted to one side, a lock of her dark hair falling over her smile. She swiped it back with her hand and your mesmer was able to break for a moment.

“And you can call me John,” you told her, making her smile again. Sitting across a table enjoying a meal while making Wonder Woman smile was surprisingly one of the highlights of your already extremely awesome day. She really was beauty and strength incarnate, feminine and confident as she regarded the man she had just taken a third load of cum from. Was she flirting with you? It was always hard to tell when dealing with a patient, and your crush on the hero would bias your perspective even if you were acutely self-aware of the subject.

“Well John I’m really very sorry about your head,” she said, gesturing to the red mark above your eyebrows with the sprig of broccoli at the end of her fork. It no longer hurt, or at least nothing seemed like it could ever hurt while you stared into the Amazon’s eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you replied, wanting to alleviate her of any guilt. “All things considered, that was amazing what you did to me behind that wall.” At this Wonder Woman blushed and she looked down at her dinner and bit down on her broccoli. She chewed contemplatively for a few moments, then reached over the table for your fork. Since you didn’t have use of your hands she was now feeding you herself. Yes, this was the best day ever. You took the morsel in your mouth and nodded thanks, the silence dragging on while she switched back to her own fork and concentrated on staring down her food.

When she looked up at you again there was a small smile on her face and a sparkle in her eye.

“Was it good?” she asked, genuinely curious, now tapping the end of the fork on her lower lip. You knew she wasn’t talking about the food.

“I mean, you saw how hard I came,” you answered matter-of-factly. At this you saw her lick her lips, and she couldn’t help absently tonguing the prongs of the fork as you went on. “I had already given some samples to Doctor McGee earlier today, but you worked that third load out of me no problem. Your technique was masterful.”

She breathed out, looking more rosy cheeked at your informational compliments and quickly took a sip of water.

“You’re very kind,” she said, wiping her mouth with a metal bracer. Perhaps Wonder Woman was used to being complimented on her battle prowess, but she was definitely unfamiliar with being told how good of a sex partner she was. Despite showing a bit of fluster she was obviously enjoying it. She reached over to your plate again, this time using her own fork that she had been unconsciously coating with her own saliva and picked up another bite for you. You made sure to take it all in your mouth when she fed it to you and she smiled at the look of enjoyment on your face.

“How do you feel after the treatment?” you asked her with your mouthful. She thought about this, as if considering her feelings and her body, that fork returning to her mouth as she idly bit at a prong.

“More clear headed,” she admitted. “A fog seems to grow the longer I am without … without treatment.” She paused and looked at you chewing. “Without cum.”

You swallowed, tried to nod to affirm your understanding. “How do you make it taste so good?” she wondered, forking another bit of carrot into your mouth. She waited patiently for you to swallow again.

“It’s diet mostly,” you said, trying to sound casual, as if Wonder Woman complimenting you on the flavour of your cum wasn’t the hottest thing ever. “Genetics too. But to be honest, your condition changes your perception.”

“It’s so sweet and salty,” she went on, almost ignoring your answer. “And creamy… it leaves a slickness behind on my tongue… a cling on the roof of my mouth…” She was licking the fork again. “It lingers… even after it has slid down my throat, and I get to savour the taste of you a bit longer.” Holy fucking shit.

You needed a drink of water and a cold shower, but the gaze Wonder Woman had locked onto you had you unable to move. There was definitely something predatory about it, which conflicted with the air of protectiveness she usually exuded. You were getting aroused and nervous at the same time and felt a need to break the tension.

“I wonder what’s taking Doctor McGee so long,” you said, though you knew perfectly well what she was doing and couldn’t wait to review the video later.