Themysciran Treasures update

Diana had considered herself no different from thousands of other Amazons, except perhaps for being gifted in certain areas, a bit more worldly than those who’d stayed in Themyscira. And despite the uninhibited attitude toward sex and nudity of the Amazons, she didn’t consider herself more lascivious than most women. She actually considered romance and lovemaking less important than many she had met, her sex life hardly exciting, but her life more than making up for it.

Then the package came. Although usually the embassy staff would open it—the only reason Diana even handled it was that she usually joined in with the ‘household chores’ when she had nothing else to occupy herself—sheer, overpowering curiosity drove her to tear open the gummed tape herself.

It was just an item of artwork to be displayed in the Themysciran Embassy, another ancient artifact thought, likely erroneously, to have some connection to Amazonian culture. When she’d opened the box, she’d been as mild and soft-spoken as ever. She’d had no idea it would prove to be Pandora’s Box. She’d reached down to pick up the artifact and then just started… touching herself. Sliding two fingers into her cunt as if to scratch an itch there.

Just one little climax, she thought. Just one and then I’ll stop.

She rolled her ass, rubbed at her clit, fingered her pussy until she finally climaxed, her body actually shaking from the waves of pleasure going through her. But it wasn’t enough. After lustfully tasting the dripping fingers that had been inside her sex, Diana moved her hand back down the willowy contours of her hips, down over her mound. She was even wetter than before, and she rubbed against the lips of her pussy, circled her fingers around the clitoris that felt like a flower in bloom, and she gasped, sucking in air that only fed the fire inside her. She touched her clit again. Jolts of satisfaction and even more need rocketed through her womanhood and deep into the rest of her body as she shook like a tuning fork. The succulent odor of her arousal filled the air, heavy and sweet, and her nostrils flared, smelling more of it as she continued masturbating.

She spent an hour in that room with the Seal of Kova before finally managing to stop. She didn’t consider it a triumph of her willpower. Her body had simply grown inured to further pleasure, now hungering for something real—cock, cunt, anything. Diana managed to ride that dissatisfaction into stopping. She put the Seal away and closed the box, determined to put it to closer study, but much more carefully, to see how best to contain it and if it posed any threat.

That was before the man and the woman had stolen it. And she’d seen them, watched them, the sight bringing back all the aching need that had gone unanswered when she’d set the Seal aside. Even in her wildest dreams, she hadn’t imagined a cock like this man had. It seemed almost impossible for a woman to take it, but the white-haired woman had, enjoying herself, enjoying even the pain that being stretched so much brought with it, and Diana felt an Amazon’s love of challenge rise in her. Could she best this thief, better her when it came to pleasing this man’s cock and standing the pain that came with it? She wanted to so much. So much…

Her breasts swelled and heaved through her diaphanous robe as she shouted after Spider-Man. “Don’t you dare move!”

Such was the authority in her voice that he froze solid, looking back at her, his eyes raking over her breasts. “I, uh, really need to get some pants somewhere—“

“No you don’t,” Diana said, before remembering herself and speaking with more authority. “Come down here this instant!”

Spider-Man obeyed, jumping down to the ground and holding his hands over his groin as soon as he landed. Diana’s pussy clenched—something about the way he hid himself—and she thrust her chest forward, aware of the way he stared at it.

“I didn’t mean to steal anything,” Peter said. “There was a thief, but I was trying to stop her and give back your, uh, thing—“

“You certainly seemed to be giving something,” Diana said, unable to take her eyes off his concealed manhood. 

“But anyway, you have it now, nothing was taken, crime busted, I’m just gonna go—“

Diana slipped off the outer layer of her robes. She knew that without it, Spider-Man could see right through the light undergarment that seemed to caress her skin. He could see her breasts, her womanhood, totally revealed through the sheerness of this gown that vaguely tried to cover her. His skin was turning crimson as he stared at her almost unconcealed sex, beads of perspiration running down from underneath his mask.

Diana closed in on him until her breasts brushed against his arms, the flesh firm, the nipples stiff. She grabbed one of his arms, pulling at it until his hand was in hers. It left his member only half covered. There was no going back now. She couldn’t stop herself even if there was. As she held his hand, she pressed her tits against his arm.

“Jesus, you’re Wonder Woman,” Peter stammered.

“Touch me,” she insisted, moving his hand to her cleavage. “Touch my breasts instead of just looking at them!”

Gods be gentle with me, she thought to herself, if I can’t avoid this fate, at least let the pleasure be worth it. Let me scream as that white-haired wench did!

He cupped her breast, Diana holding his hand against her body until he squeezed the soft, pliant flesh. “Oh, God, Wonder Woman,” Peter breathed, squeezing harder, her tit throbbing against his grip.

“You’re going to make up for the crime you committed today,” Diana said firmly. “Repay me for all the trouble you’ve caused…”

She pressed her thigh against his, feeling firm muscle to match her own, and inhaled the pungent scent of his maleness all along his body. “I need you,” she breathed softly, running her lips along his mask until they were alongside the acrid breath billowing through it. “Oh, this feels so good!”

“It really does,” Peter said.

Diana dropped her hand to his groin, inside the fingers he was using to try and conceal himself, and lightly rubbed the shaft, her hold on it growing tighter and more hungry as she felt the true size of his manhood. “You’re hard!” she gasped. “You want it as much as I do!”

“I’ve kinda had some… false starts recently,” Peter groaned as Diana ripped his hand away, totally uncovering him.

“I must touch you!” she declared, closing both hands around his prick.

“Oh fuck!” Peter croaked, feeling all of Diana’s warm touch on his naked erection.

“I saw what you did to that… lovely creature you came here with,” Diana murmured, running both hands over his stiffening shaft, its length easily able to hold all ten fingers on it. “It’s exactly what I’ve wanted from a lover—the gods have blessed me with you!”

His pubic hair tickled her palms and his cockhead slipped precum between her fingers. Diana shivered. It suddenly seemed like a very, very long time since she’d held a man’s tool in her hands. 

“Come!” Diana said, pulling him by the instrument of his lust back toward the embassy. “We will go where no one will disturb us.”

She led him into the nearest guest chamber, then locked the door before undressing, exposing her creamy skin and toned flesh to him in all its majesty. Peter could only stare at how her breasts perked up without any support and her pubic hair shone like purest obsidian. All his doubts vanished. There was nothing he could do, no way he could not have sex with this woman. No, this goddess.

As a final touch, Diana pulled the needles from her chignon, allowing her long curls to flow down her bare shoulders and supple back. “Now you,” she said. “I won’t have a single stitch separating you from me.”

Peter eagerly took off his gloves and the top of his costume, but hesitated when it came to his mask. His reluctance could only last a bare second in the presence of Diana’s beauty, under her loving gaze. He took off his mask, a split-second of neurosis worrying she would find him unsatisfactory, only to be met with a beatific smile from the Amazon.

“Gods,” she breathed, “but you are fair. A youth fit to be cupbearer for Zeus himself.”

“Yeah, well, I, uh—I swing a lot, but not some ways…” Peter laughed nervously. 

“A fact I am very grateful for at present,” Diana said. “And you will be grateful for it too, when I have finished you.”

“I’m pretty grateful for it now.”

Diana smiled as if it were the sweetest compliment she’d ever been paid, then gave him a push. Peter flew back twenty feet and landed in the bed. And just like that, Diana was hovering over him, leaning on her elbow, her breasts nearly touching his face.

“Tell me your name,” she said, kissing his cheeks, his eyes, his mouth.

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

“A Briton,” Diana purred, running her soft pink tongue over his face, her ruby-red lips down his throat. “Of the Christian God,” she continued, observing his manhood as she pressed her ear to his chest, hearing his heart racing with intoxicating life.

“Uh, yeah, on Easter and Christmas…”

Diana licked his small nipples, rubbed her face in his chest hair. “Do you wish to be one with me, Peter Parker?” she asked, coming face to face with him, her breasts pressed into his chest.

“Oh, boy, yeah,” was all Peter could say.