Silk, lace, and power

"You're late, Mr. Michael, it seems you've been busy," Alfreda murmured, but there was no reproach in her voice.

The journey to the airport passed without incident; yet, inside the limousine, time seemed to stand still amidst the tense atmosphere. Alfreda was far more than just the mansion’s housekeeper; Michael trusted her implicitly. In that moment, she—ordinarily rigid and bound by etiquette and formality—cast aside that demeanor in the face of her employer’s close proximity; she could barely contain herself, though, by this point, it hardly mattered. Michael watched her with that seductive gaze of his.

Michael pulled her close with a sharp, almost possessive motion. As he began to strip her of her impeccable black-and-white uniform, the sound of fabric sliding against her skin was the only noise inside the car. When the last piece of clothing fell away, it revealed lace lingerie—a deliberately provocative choice that stood in stark contrast to the sobriety of her role.

"You planned this," he whispered against her neck, inhaling the floral perfume mixed with the scent of excitement.

"I just anticipated your needs, sir," she replied with a mischievous smile, before sliding down, kneeling on the luxurious carpet of the vehicle and beginning to unzip his pants, revealing his large penis.

Alfreda wrapped her lips around it with hungry submission. With each rhythmic movement, she looked up, fixing her eyes on his, reveling in the expression of loss of control on Michael's face. He let out a long sigh, his hand burying itself in her hair, guiding the rhythm.

"More... Alfreda, continue," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

She intensified the sucking, using her tongue to explore every inch, transforming the interior of the limousine into a sanctuary of lust. Between heavy breaths, she pulled away for a second, only to whisper, "You have a magnificent penis, sir. A true monument."

Michael pulled her up urgently, wanting to feel the weight of her body against his. He positioned her on the leather seat, her legs opening to receive him. The instant he penetrated her, Alfreda let out a sharp moan, throwing her head back, her eyes closing in pure ecstasy.

"Look at me," he commanded.

She opened her eyes, pupils dilated. "I'm yours," she gasped, pulling him closer, her legs intertwined tightly around his waist.

The rhythm intensified, skin against skin in perfect synchronicity. Michael wasn't in a hurry, but he wasn't gentle either; he possessed her with the authority of one who knows he is adored. The purple lingerie, the last barrier, was ripped off and thrown to the floor, leaving her completely naked beneath his touch.

"Feel this, Alfreda... feel how much I want you," he growled, each thrust reaching the core of her pleasure.

"Yes! Oh, my God, yes!" She cried out softly, her nails digging into his shoulders, marking his skin as she whispered words of devotion and surrender. The car swayed gently, a secret kept between the leather and the glass, as they cruised together toward climax.

When the peak finally hit them, it was like an electric shock. Alfreda arched her back, moaning his name in a violent spasm, as Michael filled her completely, feeling her walls contract in waves of pleasure.

They remained silent for a few moments, hearing only their panting breaths and the accelerated beating of their hearts. Michael pulled away slowly, watching her regain her composure, though her eyes were still clouded by the haze of orgasm.

"The jet is waiting, sir," she said with a knowing smile, adjusting her lingerie and uniform with the precision of someone returning to her role as a housekeeper, but with the glow of someone who has just been possessed.

Michael smiled, feeling invigorated. When the limousine brought the car to a smooth stop at the private terminal, he stepped out and made his way to his jet, where Haile Jordan awaited him. Their destination was Themyscira, and he could hardly wait to see how the Amazons would react to the return of their absolute god and master.