Wonderful Woman

Diana’s apartment was as effortlessly chic as she was—sleek modern furniture with subtle hints of something ancient and regal. The place smelled faintly of jasmine and something earthy, like sandalwood. It felt cozy, but with a strange air of mystery that made it clear the person who lived here wasn’t just a corporate employee or librarian or whatever cover story she was running today.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Diana said, slipping off her heels and padding barefoot across the living room. “I’m going to get changed."

“Uh, sure,” he said, carefully sitting down on her couch.

‘I've been face-first in her boobs and my dick was grinding against her ass. Now, I'm in her apartment.'

Diana disappeared into another room, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the faintly spicy scent of her perfume. He placed the pizza box on the coffee table and looked around, trying to find something, anything, to focus on other than the fact that Wonder Woman was getting changed in the next room.

When she returned, he wasn’t ready.

Diana had swapped her business attire for a silky white nightgown that draped over her curves like it had been tailor-made by the gods themselves. The fabric was thin enough to outline what was a divine hourglass figure. The neckline dipped just enough to be distracting without being over the top. She held her hair back with one hand as she tied it into a loose bun, her other hand balancing two mugs.

What a woman.

Honestly, it was like Wonder Woman herself was in front of him. Those piercing eyes, those muscles, the height, and the boobs...

Diana had everything. She was truly a wonderful woman to look at no matter a man's type.

“I made coffee,” Diana said, setting the mugs down on the table. She proceeded to sit beside him, just close enough that their knees brushed.

“I, uh… already had some,” he lied, feeling the blood rush to his face again. The couch cushions shifted slightly as she sat, her proximity sending his senses into overdrive.

“More for me, then,” she said, picking up her mug and leaning back, her posture relaxed yet effortlessly elegant. How did she do that? He could see her cleavage and yet she looked like a queen, not a slut or some overcompensating whore. Diana took a slow sip, her gaze drifting to him over the rim of her cup. “So, do you have plans?"

"P-plans?"

For what? A-a date!?

"For the future," Diana clarified. "You don't plan on doing pizza deliveries forever, do you?"

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. You know, it’s a living. Keeps me busy. I might go back to college once I make enough money."

Diana smiled, setting her mug down. “That's good. You seem to have a habit of running into me in unusual ways. What are the odds?”

He swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of how close she was. “I guess, uh… maybe I’ve got good timing?”

“Or bad timing,” Diana said. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes sparkling as they roamed over him. “Or maybe fate just has a sense of humor.”

The beautiful, glorious lady leaned back. She was older than him, right? She had to be. She crossed her legs and he looked away. “So, tell me,” she said with a small giggle, "do all your deliveries end up this… eventful?”

He shook his head quickly, laughing nervously. “No, definitely not. Usually, it’s just… drop off the pizza and go. This is… uh, very different.”

She smiled and her shoulder leaned into his. She was very much teasing him. “Good different?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, gripping the edge of the couch like it might save him from spontaneously combusting. “Definitely good different.”

Diana’s smile widened, her eyes warm as they lingered on him for just a moment longer than necessary. “I’m glad,” she said simply, reaching for her coffee again.

As she sipped, the pizza guy tried desperately to get his thoughts under control. ‘Focus on the coffee. Focus on the pizza. Don’t focus on the fact that the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen is sitting right next to you in a nightgown.'

But focusing was impossible when Diana Prince was involved. And judging by the small, knowing smile tugging at her lips, she knew exactly what she was doing.

“You seem nervous. Don’t be.”

“O-okay."

No pizza box. Only seated with his hands on his thighs. At long last, she saw it: his bulge. Diana was not surprised. She knew. Of course she knew. The black-haired beauty reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek, and he felt his breath hitch. “Honesty,” she murmured, her lips curving into a smile. “I like that.”

Her hand slid down to his chest and he felt his heart pounding beneath her palm. She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. “Do you want to stay a little longer?”

He swallowed hard. 'This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.' But her scent was intoxicating, her presence overwhelming, and before he could think, he nodded.

Diana smiled and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Good.”

In a small turn, she was on top of his lap and pushed him till his back was flat on the sofa. She was close, too close, foreheads touching, her body pressed against his, and he could feel the heat radiating from her.

Her hand slid down his chest, her fingers teasing the hem of his shirt. “You’re tense,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his. “Relax.”

He tried, he really did, but her touch was electric, stirring something deep inside him.

"Ooh! Impressive!"

She could feel it, his cock stretching his pants, rising up until it was between her ass cheeks. This gown was different from her skirt; it was thin enough to almost be transparent. It made it feel like he was touching her booty right then and there. Diana was stunned for a moment. She wasn't fully seeing it. It was only the shape of it tightly stretched by his pants and yet...