Diana found she needed

An earlier version was proofread by Janey, but she is
not responsible for remaining errors.

Despite her prerogatives — feminine and divine — of
doing exactly what she wanted when she wanted to do
it, Aphrodite grudgingly forced herself awake. Why in
Hades’ name was the computer system blaring the
emergency alert? Especially at this hour? Especially
when she was so pleasantly full of her divine
husband’s divine cock?

And on a Sunday morning?

Her computers were programmed to respond to all but
the most extreme prayers automatically. You didn’t
need the Goddess of Love herself to tell an over-eager
man to spend a little more time getting his wife hot
before trying to plunge in. If he hit a brick wall
and deflated, well, it served him right. And if the
woman really needed to get laid, the computer could
give her a few tips on dressing more provocatively and
moving her hips with a little more wiggle. No, no
ordinary mortal lust should have disturbed her sleep.

This was to have been their perfect night. Nowadays
the gods had such hectic schedules and she had planned
everything to be alone with her mate. Hephaestus no
longer had to help out only with forging plows and
swords. Instead, he was the Ultimate Tech Support
when an IT specialist was at the end or her tether.
The last eighteen months had been Hades for her poor
husband, as he had been roped into countless projects
to fix the Y2K problem. The ignominy! The damned
millennium wasn’t even numbered after the Olympians,
but who did the prayers come to? The Nazarene? Oh,
no. “My kingdom is not of this world.”

Then some Scandinavian trickster had come through and
persuaded all the Olympians to change their computer
systems to avoid the Y2K problem. Now the hardware —
made in Cathay or Zeus knows where — was all going on
the blink at the same time. And the only response
from the 24-hour 800 number was, “Your call is very
important to us…” And it would be a hot day in
Ultima Thule before one of Loci’s “service
representatives” showed up in Hellas. So who did all
the gods call? Her poor Hephaestus..

That came on top or the previous emergency when first
ASSTR and then ASSM had gone down. Millions of porn
fans started inundating the Celestial Server with
demands to see their favorite dirty stories nicely
saved and catalogued ASAP! And when, with the help of
Hephaestus and readers who make contributions at
https://www.asstr.info/donations.html the problem was
solved, did anyone say, “Thanks?”

With all this work, her poor husband was so tuckered
when he staggered back to their celestial palace every
night that it was all he could do to plough Aphrodite
to a few orgasms, fill her with a couple of loads, and
collapse into the arms of Morpheus. It had been weeks
since he had eaten her!

Aphrodite wasn’t used to such Spartan sex and wasn’t
going to put up with the lack of attention for long.
Aphrodite needed more loving than this and she was
determined to get it! Threatening to make Jove give
back the magic amulet that kept Hera screwing him, at
least occasionally, Aphrodite persuaded the Father of
Gods and Men to put a thunderbolt into the Forge’s
power supply, sending Heph home at mid-afternoon.

She was waiting for him. She had chosen a square cut
tank top and a waist-tied skirt in a Hydra print that
nicely showcased her voluptuous body. Shaking the
raven locks that fell in romantic ringlets to her
alabaster shoulders, she strategically placed a foot
with prettily painted toes clad in a 3 1/2 inch
stiletto-heel T-strap sandal on the base of a column.

[Those Gucci Brothers might be Italian barbarians, but
they knew how to make hot footwear!]. Heph’s favorite
golden loops dangled from her ear lobes. The notes of
Orpheus’s lyre wafted in from the courtyard. (Ok, it
was only a CD of “Orpheus’s Greatest Hits,” but it was
always effective in getting Heph in the mood.) The
table was laid with her husband’s favorite wines and
ambrosia, but Aphrodite had a bet with herself it
would never be tasted.

She won the bet. Boy did she win it!

The Goddess of Love was not surprised to see Heph’s
reaction as soon as he saw his divinely hot wife. It
almost tore a hole in his loin cloth “Oh, honey, is
that the Sword of Damocles in your pocket, or are you
just glad to see me?” she asked coyly.

Aphrodite didn’t expect a verbal reply and didn’t get
one. Instead Heph grunted and lunged for her in a
style to become reminiscent of NFL fullbacks trying
for a fourth and goal from the one. In seconds she
felt herself hefted (or was that Hephted?) and slung
over her divine lover’s broad shoulder. Heph might be
lame, but he sure as Hades was making good time toward
the master alcove. He was so sweaty and smelly and
macho, her pussy tingled in giddy, inverted

The goddess was on her back. As her head cleared she
saw Heph drop his loin cloth. Yes! Her offering to
Priapus — the come from one hundred virgins’ first
orgasms — had been well rewarded; Heph’s erection was
as straight and hard and long and thick as she’d ever
seen it. She was going to enjoy this night!

‘One square-neck tank top, finis, thirty-seven
drachma,’ Aphrodite thought.

‘Hydra print skirt, sixty-one drachma,’ the Goddess

‘Ouch! That smarted,’ she thought. ‘Why couldn’t he
just pull it down? I would have lifted my butt, if
he’d given me the chance. Oh, well, one black lace
thong, eighteen drachma.’

So, what! Her credit at Nike’s Secret was good for a
lot more than one hundred sixteen drachma, plus tax.
Money well spent if it meant she got…


… impaled on Heph’s magnificent goddess-pleaser.
“Oh my Zeuuuuuuuuuus!” the goddess bellowed. The
first orgasm hit her before Heph was all the way in.

This was not the kind of foreplay her expert system
advised for reluctant wives, but Aphrodite wasn’t
reluctant. Her divine snatch had been wet for hours,
waiting for this moment. When Aphrodite felt
Hephaestus’s adamantine prick slide into her sloppy
hole, she thought she had died and gone to …. Wait!
She was an Immortal and she was already in heaven,
but — whatever! It felt damned good.

First fuck had been around nightfall. By midnight
Aphrodite had been screwed every way known in Greater
Hellas and had come so many times she couldn’t think
straight. Who WANTED to think straight? She vaguely
remembered her Hindu friend, Shiva, bragging that she
and Krishna knew thousands more positions, but
Aphrodite didn’t give a damn. She had been most
satisfactorily pummeled, pounded, and orgamsed out.
She was one happy goddess when at last she snuggled up
to her sleeping husband, kissed him one last time and
closed her eyes. Not intending to open them again
until ….

Aphrodite tried burrowing deeper into the massive
chest and muscled arm of her sexy husband. Hephaestus
had been fucking her silly since the Indo-Aryans were
a little tribe of nomads and it STILL drove her crazy!
He had the body of a Greek god — well, he WAS a
Greek god and not a wimpy one like Apollo, either.
No, her Heph was built on the Sylvester Stallone
model; or rather, Rambo was built on the Hephaestus
model! Heph had the equipment that Dark Wanderer
wives dream about and their husbands have nightmares
about. And, by Jove, did he know how to use it!

Maybe this was a bad dream. Cyrphe was supposed to
be night duty, but Aphrodite had seen the horny nymph
giving the eye to one of the young satyrs who kept the
grounds and the Love Goddess didn’t need much
imagination to know where SHE was right now. No, this
was no dream. Aphrodite had to take care of this
herself before it woke her darling mate.

The new Answered Prayer 5.0 for Windows 2000 was
supposed to be almost fully automated, she groused
silently as she padded her way along the colonnade to
the IT room. There was no reason for her to have to
attend to all these petitions personally in this day
and age. That’s why she had installed the expert
system. At least ninety-nine percent of all the
petitions fell into just four categories:

“Please let him make a move on me.”
“Please let her say yes when I make a move on her.”

“Please let me be able to get him to use a condom.”
“Please let me be able to fuck her without a condom.”

“Please don’t let me be pregnant.”
“Please let her be pregnant.”

“Please let me be able to get him to go down on me.”
“Please let me be able to get her to give me a blow

Aphrodite had been so happy when the new software
arrived, especially when she saw who delivered it, a
hunky demigod driving a big orange and blue Gods Ex,
(not “Gods’ Sex” — get a grip, girl) chariot. The
young driver went away knowing just HOW grateful the
goddess was for his “service.” And when Heph had
installed it for her, she spent more than two nights
thanking him. And now this!

The alarm seemed to increase in volume as she sat
down and hit the kill switch.

Merciful silence!

Quickly Aphrodite clicked on the diagnostics icon to
see what could have gone wrong. Glancing at the
control screen, she saw it going crazy with wild
hieroglyphics. If this was another trick by one of
her Egyptian colleagues …!


‘Not very helpful,’ the goddess thought. Briefly
contemplating asking Zeus to hurl a thunderbolt to
blast that impious Microsoft from the face of the
earth, she realized that the U.S. Justice Department
would probably do a more thorough job, anyway.
Quickly she ran a utility to uncover the problem.
This was weird! No, understandable in a way. Two
diametrically contradictory petitions of a maximum
emotional urgency had arrived at the very same
nanosecond, throwing the hapless computer into a
Godelian loop. Quickly Aphrodite pulled up the two
messages on a split screen.

“Oh, shit!” she screamed. “I should have fucking
know! Those two again! I’m going to KILL them!” She
roared. She ground her teeth. Her nostrils flared and
her eyes grew red with rage. Aphrodite was tired —
tired wasn’t the word — she had had it up to her aura
with this pair. Actually, if she could have arranged
it, the troublesome Wonder Woman and Major Steve
Trevor would have been fried decades ago. Since the
’40s of the Twentieth Century Col. Trevor (well, he
was only a Lieutenant, then) had been trying to get
into the star-spangled pants of the Amazon Princess,
who had been fending him off for exactly as long.

Zeus steadfastly refused to thunderbolt Col. Trevor,
pointing out that he was doing only what every
red-blooded mortal and blue-ichored god wanted to do
himself. And he likewise refused to let Aphrodite do
anything to interfere with Wonder Woman’s superheroine
career; she took care of dozens of chores that would
otherwise have taken Zeus away from having fun with
half the maidens and all the nymphs in Hellas. Bottom
line: she could do nothing to this dysfunctional
couple — and zillions of their fans — who generated
a disproportional amount of the traffic on both her
800 number and the website.

“Steve Trevor and that dammed amazon bitch again!”
she almost screamed. She guessed what had happened
even before she read the simultaneous pleas.

Steve had rescued this “Wonder Woman” — again — and
he had hoped to take advantage of it to get into her
pants — again.

“Please let me score this time.”/”Please make him
leave me alone.”

Aphrodite had been getting these conflicting prayers
every month or so for years and had long since ignored
them. Couldn’t Steve figure it out for himself? The
amazon in the funny red pants, although she certainly
had a body built for fucking, was under a curse that
kept her from doing anything about it. As an Amazon,
if she gave herself to a man, she lost all her super
powers. As an official of the United State
Government, Col. Trevor certainly shouldn’t want to
deprive his nation of the services of the sexiest
superheroine in the universe. Unfortunately, as a
man, Col. Steve Trevor wanted nothing more that to
fuck her silly and to Hades with the superpowers.
Because of the curse, Wonder Woman couldn’t fuck
Steve, but she’d surely fucked up Aphrodite’s
computer. It was the last straw.

With blazing fingers she punched in the numbers on
her cell phone. “Cybernetica! Come here and get me
Eros,” the goddess barked at her IT support nymph.

“Yes, Oh yessss. YESSSSS. I’m coming, … I’m
COMING … Aieeeeeeeeeee!”

“I mean NOW, Zeusdammit, not when you finish with
whoever you have in there fucking your eyeballs out,
you slut! If you don’t get me Eros here in five
minutes, you’re going to find out just how it feels to
have Cebrerus fuck you and Phil Phantom write about
it!” the goddess fumed. There was no justice in
Olympus. Athena got the seven cultivated,
well-behaved Muses to do her bidding; Aphrodite got
the seven wanton, misbehaving Fuses to do — exactly
what they wanted, which was to get laid morning, noon,
and night!

It was closer to ten minutes when a drowsy, slightly
spacey little god flitted into the computer center.
Aphrodite was glowering as she sipped a new beverage
brought to her recently by the AEthiopians, a black
bitter concoction, but one that energized her more
than the ambrosia that Hebe prepared.

“I won’t bother asking what took you so long. Didn’t
I teach you to wash the pussy juice off face after you
eat a goddess?”

“I was in the middle of making love to my wife,” her
son huffed. “And if we go to your alcove I’ll bet
we’ll find Hepheastus’s face needs washing, too. Why
the summons at this ungodly hour, Mom? Aurora doesn’t
get up for hours yet?”

“What’s it to you? Psyche has you in bed day and
night, anyway.”

“I don’t want to go into this with you, Mom,” Eros
replied wearily.

“Yeah, I know what you want to go into and with
whom,” was his Aphrodite’s sour reply.

After several more rounds of this sort of sniping
Aphrodite got down to business. “I’m sick of this
Col. Trevor and Wonder Woman screwing up my
communications system. I want a final solution to
this. And since I can’t touch Wonder Woman, I’ve got
and idea for how you can fix Col. Trevor.”

“But what can *I* do. Zeus refuses to blast him.”

“You are going to get one Col. Steven Trevor, U. S
Military Intelligence — what an oxymoron — and one
off-the-reservation amazon, a.k.a. “Wonder Woman” out
of my hair once and for all!”

“You want me to make them fall in love for good?”

“No, you dolt, the amazon bitch must remain a virgin
to deal with alien life forms, supervillains, and
natural disasters. She doesn’t deserve it, anyway.
No, you are going to make Col. Trevor fall in love —
really in love — with someone else. A tennis star, a
CNNfn correspondent babe, an MTV hostess, whom, I
don’t really care. Just make sure the woman has the
hots for Trevor, too. He’s kind of handsome for a
mortal and deserves a frisky woman to make up for the
frustration he’s gone through all these years panting
for the amazon. If you have any trouble finding a
woman who really likes to fuck, ask Janey or Lucinda
or Bronwen; they claim to know plenty. Once Col.
Trevor is in love with someone else, he leaves the
Amazon bitch alone and, voila, everybody’s happy.”

“Great idea, Mom. I’ll put an old arrow through his

“They don’t call me the Goddess of ‘Luv’ for nothing,
Jr.” she smirked. “Just make sure the woman falls in
love with him, too. — totally, passionately. I don’t
want Col. Trevor back here next week because SHE won’t
put out for him.”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll get them with my trick shot,
one arrow through both hearts. It’ll be a piece of

“Yeah, wedding cake!” Aphrodite sighed, suddenly


Flying as fast as his chubby little wings would carry
him, Eros was able to arrive in Washington early
Monday afternoon. Big Mistake! Though invisible, he
apparently showed up on the radar at Andrews and
caused them to scramble to intercept the unidentified
aircraft. Then, after dodging ATA missiles, as he
approached the Pentagon he could hardly get through
the constant stream of flights coming into or going
out of Reagan National.

It was Thursday morning before Eros could find Col.
Steve Trevor in the labyrinthine corridors of the
Pentagon. Eros was growing discouraged; he hadn’t
even started on finding a woman for him. Then he got
lucky. (Not that way, you perverts. Eros is totally
faithful to his Psyche.) Thank Zeus, there was a
woman in the same office with Col. Trevor. Hmm. Not
a bad looker, though she sure didn’t know how to
dress. “Zeus in Olympus!” Eros muttered to himself
when he checked the woman’s measurements. “Why look
further? Stevie boy will fall out of his tree when he
sees her naked.” This meant Eros didn’t need to find
someone else, engineer a chance encounter, etc. He’d
be back in Hellas and in Psyche’s sweet snatch in time
for TGIF. Zeus, he was horny!

Aiming carefully, Eros loosed his arrow and watched it
fly, unerringly piercing first the heart of Steve
Trevor and then, that of the woman, Diana
Something-or-Other. The little god grinned and
hovered around to monitor the effects of his


Steve looked up from his work. An amazing thought
had just occurred to him. That mousy Diana Prince
with a little makeover could be HOT! Why had he never
thought of her that way before. The bun? Pull the
clip and her hair would fall to her shoulders. Those
awful glasses? He had seen a Linda Carter ad for
laser surgery that would correct that. ‘Totally
fuckable. I could have some fun with that sexy
broad,’ Steve thought, totally forgetting his lifelong
obsession with Wonder Woman.

‘I’ll get her to wear those tight, hot minis with 4″
heels with an ankle tie and take her clubbing to Los
Amigos del Disco. Hell, with that black hair she
could pass for a Latina. When I twirl her around and
everybody sees she isn’t wearing panties, all the men
will be soooo envious,’ he smirked. ‘And we can go to
all the hockey games and have pizza and beer at the
Calvert Grill.’

‘Then in few months when she finds she’s going to
have a baby — heh -heh — I’ll pop the question. Of
course, being totally ape over me she’ll say yes yes
yes yes and I’ll move us to a big house out near
Dulles. Some dot com company should be willing to pay
an ex-intelligence hot-shot like yours truly enough to
support Mr. and Mrs. Trevor and our six or eight kids.
Oh, yeah, this is going to be perfect!’ Steve mused,
not aware that there was anything wrong with having
rewritten his life plan in a matter of seconds.


Diana Prince looked up from her work. She had been
fidgeting in her chair since just after lunch. The
source of her discomfort was near at hand; Col. Steve
Trevor was looking at her again. But that wasn’t the
whole story; she felt odd, too, giggly and happy that
he was looking. She had an urge to shake loose her
long hair from its tight bun and let it fall
fetchingly to her shoulders. “Maybe I could duck into
the ladies’ room to freshen my lipstick,” she thought,
not remembering that she wasn’t wearing lipstick. She
was chagrined to think how frumpy she must look to a
dashing man like Col. Trevor in her loose skirt,
nondescript blouse and flats. But , wait! “Of course
I look frumpy. I work hard every morning to look
frumpy. It isn’t easy when you have a dynamite body
like mine!”

Then an amazing thought occurred to her. Steve
Trevor, though arrogant and full of himself, taken in
hand by the right woman, like yours truly — heh heh
— could be turned into a decent prospect! Why had
she never thought of him that way before. The buzz
cut? Let his hair grow and he’d look like an adult.
Those awful uniforms? Well, he’d probably want to
find a civilian career to impress his new girlfriend
and would, of course, need her help choosing the right
wardrobe. ‘I’m going to have so much fun with that
hunk,’ Diana thought, totally forgetting her lifelong
obsession with protecting Wonder Woman’s virtue.

No, no, she couldn’t let herself think like that. She
had always gone out of her way to remain unattractive
to men, especially Steve Trevor, with whom she had to
work. There was no way to avoid his lust for her as
Wonder Woman; she didn’t need him hot for Miss Prince,
too. The contradictory thoughts flitted in and out of
her mind.

“You must never give yourself to a man, my child. If
you do, all your powers to help others will desert
you,” Diana could hear her mother, Queen Hypolite,
telling her so many years ago. And she’d always been
a good girl, too. Oh, sure, she let herself go a few
times when some overpowered android cock was pounding
her pussy senseless, making her scream in mindless
ecstasy as it attempted to orgasm her into submission.
And she’d let herself go occasionally when the odd
trans-genetic plant had its tendrils deep in her twat,
tickling her clit as it massaged her breasts and sent
shock waves of pleasure through her engorged nipples.
Damn! She could use one of those aroused androids or
a nice horny plant right now! Great Hera! What am I

‘Easy enough for you to talk about not giving
yourself to a man,’ mother, but you don’t have to sit
across from that hunky Col. Trevor. If you did, I’ll
bet your pussy would be leaking just like mine is.’
thought the confused woman. Maybe if I rolled my
skirt up a little, Steve could at least see some
ankle. Hera knows I have sexy ankles!’

‘I’ll bet he’ll ask me to the University Club Spring
Ball! I’ll dress up in a floor-length taffeta gown
and everyone will stare when we make our entrance.
He’ll waltz me around, gliding smoothly over the
floor, adoration shining in his eyes. All the women
will be soooo envious,’ she sighed. ‘We’ll have
season tickets to the National Symphony Orchestra
performances at the Kennedy Center and afterwards
he’ll take me to Sweet Georgia Brown for a midnight
champagne dinner.’

‘Then in few months, when we are an item in the
Georgetown social circuit, I’ll hint how nice it would
be to live together in the city. Of course he’ll be
totally ape over me and say yes yes yes yes and move
us into a Georgetown apartment. Some dot com company
should be willing to pay an ex-intelligence hot-shot
like him enough to support me while I get my Masters
in International Business at SAIS. Oh, yeah, this is
going to be perfect!’ Diana mused, not aware that
there was anything wrong with having rewritten her
life plan in a matter of seconds.

‘Oops’ thought Eros. This wasn’t going quite as
expected. Eros sympathized with the men of this
strange land. Imagine! A woman with a body like hers
who was in love, but still wanted to have a “career”
instead of staying at home, barefoot and pregnant.
Thank Zeus his Psyche was an old-fashioned girl.
Career? Hades! She had made a career out making
babies. Every year, usually about the time Proserpine
returned from Hades, Psyche presented him with another
adorable little puto. Back during the 16th Century
when they were in such demand as models for Renascence
Masters, Psyche was popping out litters of two and
three per year, but recently she had decided one per
year was enough to keep her occupied. It made Eros
horny all over again thinking about his lovely Psyche
back home, their most recent infant parked on her
pregnant belly, nursing, her holding the wings of a
little cherub just learning to fly, her seeing the
little puti off to pre-gymnasium every morning.

This Ms. Price was totally different. You didn’t
have to be Dr. Ruth to figure out that after the
second Capitals game Diana sat trough and the second
time Diana dragged Steve to see Ethan Steifle and the
ABT, the lovers would be at each other’s throats.
‘They need a little more in common,’ the god grinned.

Carefully Eros put away the gold-tipped Romantic Love
arrow and withdrew a larger iron-tipped one dipped in
quicksilver. ‘The Carnal Lust arrow never fails!’ he
reflected. Even lust needed to be fine-tuned,
however. Generally it was enough to increase the
woman’s libido by several factors. A man would put up
with a lot of ballet from a woman who wanted to fuck
his brains out every night. Hmm. A quick scan showed
that the Diana woman already had a roaring libido, but
was holding it in check for some reason. Never mind,
he’d just make her forget her reasons and let the good
times roll!

‘Oh, that’s not good!’ Eros thought, continuing his
mindscan. The woman had an aversion to giving head.
Oh, well, that could be fixed, too. ‘With a few
little adjustments in Diana, Col. Trevor is going to
realize that he’ll never find a hotter woman and he’d
better treat her right,’ Eros reasoned.

Then he turned to making sure Col. Trevor DID treat
her right. A little adjustment of Steve’s
quantity/quality ratio was in order. Better change
the desired setting from 10 minutes, 15 times pre week
to something Diana would enjoy better: say, three
hours, five times a week ‘I’ll install a
woman-comes-first rule and — what’s this? Oh, the
silly man, thinks he doesn’t like to eat pussy? Well,
that’s easy to fix. Col. Trevor’s woman is going to
realize that she’ll never find a better man and she’d
better treat him right,’ Eros reasoned.

Suddenly, before Eros could get off his shot, Diana
sat upright, realizing where her thoughts were taking
her. She had to get away from Steve before she did
something foolish! Pushing back her chair, Diana
bolted for the door. She felt slightly more in
control as she hurried out onto the immense parking
lot and found her Neon. Wow, that was a close call,
she reflected. She could never recall being so
excited in her life, but it was more than horniness.
She needed a man, but even more she needed one man —
Steve. Steve, who had lusted for her as Wonder Woman
all these years, never marrying, never having other
girlfriends, always loyal to Wonder Woman. Diana’s
heart was melting. And now he was looking at her the
same way — her, mousy, drab Diana, not his sex
fantasy. A glance can tell a girl so much. Poor
Steve! He was trying to tell her, trying to
communicate. There was love in his eyes, devotion.
“Oh, Steve, you’d be so perfect — if I could only
have you!”

Diana’s eyes were filled with tears when she arrived
at her Wisconsin Ave. apartment. “Why do I have to be
Wonder Woman? Why do I have to be temerarious and
rush off to save people and countries and planets?
Why can’t I have a man — at last! Oh Hera, I’ve got
to come!”

Always determined to overcome her need to masturbate,
Diana did not possess a vibrator or even a dildo.
Hades, she had used her only cucumber in last night’s
salad!. Nothing mattered. Minutes later she was
spawled on her bed with her legs wide apart, furiously
finger fucking herself. “Oh God, Steve,” moaned the
imperious Amazon “TAKE ME!”


“What had gotten into Diana?” Steve wondered. Oh,
she had probably gotten uncomfortable from his staring
at her, poor thing. He should apologize. He raced
after her, but she had disappeared. He had no idea
where she lived. Well, he didn’t work for Military
Intelligence for nothing. It took him less than an
hour to hack into Pentagon personnel files and find
the address. Smiling, Eros flew along behind as
Steve’s Miata screamed along Rock Creek Parkway.


“Diana, I have to talk to you!” Steve shouted,
pounding on the door of her apartment when she didn’t
answer his insistent ringing of the bell.

“I can’t. Not now. Go away, Steve,” Diana replied,
using all her will power not to open up and fling
herself in his arms.

‘Perfect angle,’ thought Eros. ‘One immaterial
Carnal Lust arrow through the genitals. Yes!’

Suddenly Diana felt funny. Great Hera! She had just
come a half dozen times before Steve arrived. She
thought the worst was over. It was breaking her
heart, but loyalty to her calling as Wonder Woman was
strong. She would NOT open the door. Now she knew
she was wrong. The desire she had felt for Steve
before was still there, but there was something new.
She needed a cock! A man’s cock! In her pussy!
Desperately! At this instant! If she was going to
give herself to anyone, it might as well be Steve.
She opened the door.

It this were a cartoon, instead of a serious piece of
erotic literature, we would depict the ensuing scene
as a rapidly spinning blur with pieces of clothing
being ejected from time to time. “Steve, darling,
HURRY!” Diana wailed. Nothing in his training
prepared Steve to handle a woman this hot, but
something about him rose to the occasion. Minutes
later his cock was buried deep in Diana’s pussy and
the ravaged woman was bellowing for more. There would
be Hell to pay at the next meeting of the Condo
owners’ association, Diana knew.

‘Mission accomplished,’ thought Eros as he banked and
headed East.


The following morning Aphrodite was standing at the
doorway of her mansion and inquiring, “How did it go?”

A slightly jet-lagged, very Psyche-welcomed little
god scanned her face before replying. She seemed to
be in a better mood than Sunday morning when she sent
him out on that crazy mission.

You’d better believe she was! Aphrodite could
compartmentalize. Once she had turned off the alarm
and dispatched her son that morning, she headed back
to the alcove. Hephaestus was still asleep. He
didn’t remain that way long! She licked her favorite
part of his body until it was rigid and gleefully
flung herself on him. By the time Hephaestus was
fully awake, Aphrodite was mewing through her second
orgasm so loud it disturbed the peace of the souls in
the Elysian Fields.

For the next few hours the divine lovers ran through
a reprise of the previous night. By noon Aphrodite
knew she was going to be entitled to a refund from
Hebe on all that ambrosia she had ordered. They never
made it to the table. One of the Muses put it this

With no need of philter,
Hephaestus had filled her,
And then he had eaten his fill of her fill.
Then she had partaken
Of his filling filler.
A nice little fillip, a swill.

It gave new meaning to “breakfast in bed.”

The rest of the week Aphrodite basked in the
afterglow of that incredible day — and night.
Hephaestus staggered into the forge late on Monday
morning with a goofy grin on his face that left no
doubt among the other smiths that the boss had a GOOD
weekend. When Hermes showed up later in the day with
a bouquet of flowers sent by his fuck-happy wife, the
guys teased him, but they were really jealous as all
Hades. Aphrodite just sat at her computer all week
with a big satisfied smile on her face clicking
“Granted,” “Granted,” “Granted,” to all the petitions,
even that disastrous one from Monica — how

The dreamy smile on his mother’s face gave Eros the
nerve to recount his experience. He told how he had
almost been shot down by the jets from Andrews and how
he had gotten lost in all those corridors at the
Pentagon looking for Col. Trevor. “Time was running
out, but then I got lucky. It turned out there was a
very pretty woman working in the very same office next
to Col. Trevor. It took two arrows. But I did it.”
Eros concluded proudly

“In the same office?” Aphrodite asked apprehensively.
“What was her name?”

“Diana something. I just got a glimpse at her ID
tag. King? No, … Duke? No, … Ah! Prince.
Diana Prince. She looked pretty intell–”

“Diana Prince!” Aphrodite burst out. “You idiot!
You nincompoop! Only the son of that dimwit, Ares
could be so ignorant. Why did I let him get me
pregnant that night? You don’t know who Diana Prince
IS??? Don’t you read comic books like other boys?
No, of course you don’t, you stupid little fucker.
That minx Psyche has you in bed all the time screwing
out what few brains you have left. You know I’ve
never liked her; she’s too old for you. I’ll have the
furies hound you both for a century for this. I’ll…”


Mrs. Diana Trevor looked around to make sure no one
saw her before she lifted the rear of the Cherokee and
slid it into a parking space at the mall, never having
gotten the hang of parallel parking. She was glad her
mother had been wrong, about her superpowers, or at
least misleading. Queen Hypolite hadn’t exactly said
she would lose her super powers, rather that she would
no longer have them to help humanity.

So true! Diana found she needed everything the magic
girdle and golden lasso could give her just to manage
the big house, run the office of Steve’s consulting
business, ferry Britany and Jennifer to soccer
practice, pick Laurel up from Tae Kwan Do, deliver
Helen to morning kindergarten and fetch her at noon,
take Sara and Sole to the pediatrician for their
two-year check up, and nurse little Margaret. Maybe,
just maybe, she thought, rubbing the bulge in her
tummy, if this one were Steve, Jr., at last, she might
get a break from baby making for a while. She doubted
it, however, knowing how well Steve liked seeing the
way her pregnant belly stretched the red Lycra tights
when he dressed her up like Wonder Woman.