Cupid watched from on high as the woman tried to discreetly shift through the crowd to get to the bar. Heads turned to follow her path anyway. There was no way this young woman would be able to sneak through an establishment like this. In truth, she would be hard-pressed to remain unnoticed even among the models of a Paris fashion show. Those flat-chested, anorexic, wannabes couldn't help but pale in comparison to this full-figured Latino beauty.
She was proof that a percentage or two of body fat only made the female form more perfect. Of course, the D-cups and full hips didn't hurt either. And all of that was completely independent of the bright red-white-and-blue spandex outfit that clung to every curve to leave no hint of her body to the imagination.
And she had turned eighteen only days before.
For reasons known to very few, Cupid kept a very close eye on the PRA. Oh, he didn't have nearly the penetration of the organization as he would really have liked, but he at least kept track of every scrap of public knowledge they let slip. And it was hard not to know about the baby girl that had been discovered with the ability to float, literally since birth.
Initially, Cupid hadn't taken much interest in her. What did it matter to him if the group that monitored and licensed paranormals had adopted some brat to be officially raised by them? The answer was, nothing more than any other agent he could get info on. It wasn't until a year or so ago that he became aware of how alluring she had become.
Lust was nothing to be scoffed at. All of Cupid's life revolved around the carnal emotion. It was the heart of the strip club he ran and the attached hotel rooms that he owned. And it was the focus of the ability he kept secret from everyone. Oh, there might be a few that had guessed he was a para, but as long as he kept away from the telepaths and power sensors, no one could prove anything.
Then again, someone at the PRA had guessed a para operated out of Cupid's Desires or Sparrow wouldn't have been there right now. That was fine by Cupid, however. In fact, he had cultivated that sentiment very closely, over the last few months.
Shortly after Sparrow had come fully onto his radar, Cupid had quietly sought to discover who her handler was. Once he knew, it was pure simplicity to arrange a chance encounter. After that, her handler had taken advantage of the at-cost drinks that friends of the owner got at the strip club.
As the date of the magnificent heroine's majority approached, Cupid began to use his ability on her handler. Every time a certain dancer took the stage, the club owner shot the tiniest bit of lust straight at the handler's libido. The greater the sensation, the more he would tip the girl. Over time, he gradually increased the effect until, days ago, it must have been great enough that the handler finally realized it wasn't a completely natural effect of the woman's gyrations and unspoken suggestions.
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Cupid, though he usually made certain to vary both the targets and the recipients of their attentions. A little here, a little there, and his club had a reputation for having the most alluring dancers around.
Now, Sparrow had been sent to investigate her young handler's suspicions. Just on schedule.
As Cupid watched, the bartender pointed the luscious heroine towards the stairs. Per protocol, she would seek out the owner of the establishment in order to arrange a conversation with the suspect. Cupid pressed the intercom button on his phone and hit the number of his manager's station, back stage.
"Pearl. Please have Ruby sent up to my office?"
"Yes sir, Mr. Cupid."
"Darling. How many times have I told you? It's just Cupid."
"Many, I suspect, Mr. Cupid." Cupid rolled his eyes at the endearing byplay. "If you're in need of some relief, however, I would be more than happy to accommodate you. I think things will run smoothly without me for a short while."
Bless her. Like all things, use of his ability came with a price. While not nearly as potent, Cupid was afflicted with a fraction of the lust he inspired. It was a small boost each time but by the end of the night it could become nearly unbearable.
A few of the longer-running girls had noticed his burden, although they thought it no more unusual than being forced to watch the erotic displays for hours on end. They had taken it upon themselves to help him relieve the tension. It was by no means a condition of working there. He had never even approached a single girl about it. One of them invariably showed up, sometime near closing time, and worked her wiles on him in the privacy of his office. When a newer girl showed up, he knew she had caught on to the action, been set to rights about the nature of it, and had chosen to offer herself.
Cupid found himself a bit disappointed that Pearl might think he would ask for it himself. At the same time, he was flattered that she was willing, even eager, to help him. He considered it proof of how well he treated the girls that they had to work out a schedule to allow everyone who wanted a chance to help. He'd never seen the list, but he'd caught whispers when they thought he couldn't hear.
"No, thank you, Pearl." He responded quickly. "Actually, we have an unexpected guest I believe wants to speak with her."
"Understood, Mr. Cupid. I'll send her right up."
Cupid smiled and shook his head once more. She was a bit incorrigible but he could not fault either her devotion or her capabilities. Without her, the club would never run half as smoothly as it did.
A knock at the door turned his head. Sparrow had vanished into the stairwell just long enough ago that it should be her. The push of another button on the phone unlocked the door even as he called out. "Enter."
Cupid was every bit as susceptible to attraction as anyone else. The door opened and his breath caught. He had never seen Sparrow in person. She was taller than he expected, even though he knew her exact dimensions from his research. She also walked with full confidence in the authority granted to her as one of the most trusted agents of the PRA.
Red boots climbed to her knees but the lack of any significant heel proved the height was all hers. Above that, her outfit shone shockingly white. Somehow, the very purity of the color drew attention to her perfect curves. A deep blue began beneath her arms and traced the upper curve of her breasts to plunge between them like a dagger and further accentuate her perfect figure.
Cupid couldn't help himself. His power reached out to tickle her. The moment he saw her, his need became achingly acute. In a fitting reciprocal of his normal ability, whenever something attracted his desire so strongly, he could not help but reflect a portion of that need on the object of his desire.
"Mr. Cupid. My name is Sparrow. I'm with the PRA and am here on official business."
No one could own an establishment dedicated to desire without understanding the slightest signs of it. Likewise, he had learned early as a result of his own abilities. A small flare of triumph curled through his breast as he watched the young heroine try to cope with her sudden desires, however small.
Muscles low in her body clenched ever so slightly. Her lip sucked in to be nibbled on during each pause in her prepared speech. Her eyes darted about nervously, though he obviously couldn't tell if she instinctively sought escape or looked for any possible witnesses should she succumb. Either way, her focus settled on the window behind him that looked out onto the whole of the club.
"Welcome, Sparrow." Cupid managed to offer without too many signs of the strength of his own desire. "Please, have a seat. And call me just Cupid."
"Thank you." The look in her eyes demonstrated exactly how honest her grateful reply was.
He understood completely. Sitting, they both found themselves less likely to reveal their aroused states. Unfortunately, seated in front of the desk as she was, there was nothing to mar his sight of her as there was her of him. The faux-spandex material of her costume continued to entice him so neither felt a measure of relief from his need.
"How can I help you, Sparrow? Does the PRA suspect I might harbor some super-powered villain?"
"In a manner of speaking only." She quickly assured him, unaware of her increased desire to please him as he pleased her. "It is far more likely that we've merely uncovered someone with an innate ability they were simply unaware of. If there's anything here at all, of course."
"Of course." He agreed. "How may I be of service?"
Cupid added a hint of innuendo, along with the slightest intentional use of his ability, with the offer. He was pleased and heartened to see her breath catch, almost imperceptibly. What surprised him, however, was the way she began to fidget immediately. If he had to guess, either it had been quite a long time for the girl or she had never actually consummated a relationship before. He had suspected she might be a virgin, but he had no proof of it. That would make this conquest that much sweeter.
"I need to speak with one of your dancers. I believe her stage name is Ruby?"
"Of course. I assume you would like to use my office for a private audience?"
Sparrow's flush of embarrassment came as a bit of a surprise to him. After a moment of reflection, he realized the possible, and completely unintended, innuendo. He also realized that her allure only increased when her embarrassment flared. He knew he could easily bring about the same reaction in much more pleasurable ways. That caused another pulse of his ability between the two which very nearly set up a recursive loop when she thought the spike of lust might have come from her own thoughts and caused further embarrassment.
To break the cycle, Cupid quickly stood and hurried over to the door. He knew that to look at the young woman would cause him to lose the last shreds of control. It had only happened once before but a lack of focus with his ability so near meltdown could cause the entire club to devolve into an orgy of desire that only stopped when he finally passed out.
Cupid leaned heavily on the doorknob as he pulled it open and crossed the threshold into his waiting room. Ruby stood immediately the moment he came out. One look at him and she began to advance with a playful glint in her gaze.
As turned on as he was, he desperately wished he could take full advantage of the promises those eyes made. His body hummed with demands that he except her offer and release every bit of sexual tension by making her scream in pleasure. Not to mention release himself as deep as he could bury himself between her thighs. Only two things stopped him. The first was that there was no guarantee that it would corral his perilous control. The second was that he knew he would lose any chance to be with the lovely young heroine in the other room.
Cupid waved Ruby off and collapsed into a chair. Concerned, the dancer hovered over him. She knew his body cried out for her but just as certainly could sense it wasn't really her he wanted. After a few deep breaths, he managed to explain to her who was in his office and what she wanted.
More confused than concerned, Ruby crossed the room and closed the door behind her. Cupid gripped the arms of the chair and continued with his deep breaths. He could think of nothing else but control. Slowly, his pulse came back under control and his body didn't feel quite so hot.
He nearly jumped when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He hadn't heard the door open and had no clue that Ruby had crossed the room to him. When he looked up, she looked concerned, but not necessarily for herself. It was more a sisterly, or friendly, kind of emotion.
"You okay, boss?"
Cupid nodded. "Yes. I just had to get a bit of air."
Ruby's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I can see why. She's quite a piece of work. I think even Camille would be tempted at that sight. You thinking about trying to hire her? A little extra cash on the side of her real job?"
There was a bit of worry behind the question. Cupid understood it perfectly. No matter how much she might like the girl, or admit her appeal, she would be afraid of her stealing all the best customers. If the Latino heroine did decide to dance, he had no doubt those fears would be confirmed.
"Don't worry." Cupid assured her. "She's not here for a job. Given the high profile nature of the PRA, I don't think even the most misogynistic handler would allow an agent to work at a place as controversial as this."
Ruby's relief was instant and obvious. She nodded and headed towards the stairs. Cupid watched, thankful for something familiar to further help ground him. She glanced back a couple of times and continued her offer to help his situation. He took a deep breath and walked over to the door of his office and opened it a crack.
"Yes sir, I understand......I will sir......Right away."
Cupid opened the door before her voice faded. He imagined that had been her report and could only assume that the young woman had confirmed what he already knew; that the dancer showed no signs of ability whatsoever. What her handler had asked of her, he didn't know but suspected he would find out soon enough.
Sparrow still sat in the comfortable armchair he had offered her. Now, she had her knees pulled up to her chest and her feet on the edge of the seat. Cupid found himself relieved that he was behind her or else the sight of her exposed crotch would have driven him nuts. Instead, the pose endeavored to suggest every bit of youth and inexperience he knew she possessed.
"Is everything okay?" Cupid didn't care. It was a platitude, nothing more. He knew, however, if he simply thrust his power at her and overwhelmed her with desire, he wouldn't get what he really wanted. He had to play confidant, if only just this once, if he wanted her to come back to him begging.
Sparrow jumped in her seat, as if she had just been caught off guard. Her head spun around to look at him over her shoulder. The look of mingled panic, confusion and disappointment was not what he wanted to see, but he knew he could work with it. He had worked through worse in his time without having to resort to his abilities.
Cupid crossed the office under the weight of that accusing stare. As he passed her, his hand dropped lightly to her back, by the nape of her neck, to trail across her shoulder where he lingered a moment before he passed too far away and let it drop. He spun and leaned back against his desk. He was more than a little relieved to see that her ankles crossed and kept her from inadvertently offering herself up on a platter before him.
Sparrow dropped her feet to the floor. Her knees pressed tightly together as they dropped to the edge of the seat, in firm denial of what he knew she must feel pulsing between her legs. Her hands folded in her lap in another subconscious defensive measure. She leaned forward slightly to ask her question.
"Is this a brothel?"
"No, my dear." Cupid smiled gently. "Of course, you might think I would say that to any authority figure but, remember, I know your organization's mandates. You have no authority in this case. True, you could go to the police if I told you it was but let's be honest, it would be your word against mine. In a trial we both know how a jury would lean in the case of a norm against a para."
Sparrow's eyes dropped; ashamed, he assumed, of her own status as a "freak". Just because she had been raised by an organization peopled with those with powers didn't mean they were more enlightened when it came to the abnormal. If anything, the PRA was even harsher on paras as a means to keep them under control despite the vast difference in personal power.
"So, you don't rent out rooms so that the patrons can...can..."
"Make love with the dancers?" Cupid finished for her. He was further enticed by the way she blushed. By the end of the evening, he would see her whole body so flush. "Yes, in fact, I do."
Sparrow's eyes snapped up to look at him, full of shock and confusion that he would admit it so openly. Rather than explain right away, he pushed himself off of the desk and closed the distance between them. He tried not to think of how close his standing position placed him in regards to her full lips but didn't mind if her gaze had wandered down to note how tight his slacks were.
Cupid placed a hand on her shoulder. It caused her to jump once more. Her gaze whipped back up to his, another blush fresh on her cheeks at being caught staring. Rather than acknowledge it, and cause her even more embarrassment, he gently guided her from the seat. In a bit of a daze, not to mention conditioned literally from birth to follow the authority of a norm, she allowed herself to be walked from the chair over to sit at the end of the soft couch against one wall of his office.
"You forget, my dear, that this whole establishment revolves around desire." He explained as he guided her and then positioned himself at the opposite end of the couch, facing her. "Lust is not something to be reviled. It is completely natural. Let's be honest, more often than not it is the foundation upon which love is built. Even when it isn't, love does not feel complete without a healthy dose to lend excitement."
"I wouldn't know." Sparrow mumbled as her hands began to fidget. Although Cupid smiled inwardly, outwardly he only allowed himself a hint of understanding pity.
"I do rent the rooms out, for those couples who find themselves overwhelmed by desire while here. Couples frequently come to the club together, only to become so enthralled that they find themselves too impatient to return home.
"And, yes, often a single patron will find him-, or her-, self needing a room for an assignation with one of my dancers." He continued, but quickly qualified himself. "I won't prevent lovers from offering or accepting gifts with each other, no matter how expensive, but it is no more a requirement than in any relationship. But the only time money changes hands around here is for the room itself or drinks at the bar."
"Or when stuffed in the dancer's g-strings?" It was wonderful to hear the slightly teasing tone from the young woman as she glanced awkwardly at the window that nearly covered the far wall. She was beginning to relax a little.
Cupid chuckled lightly. "Actually, we discourage that kind of thing. The patrons are expected to leave it on the edge of the stage. Actually putting it anywhere on their body is just asking for someone to go to far and grope one of the women. Or worse."
Very slightly, Cupid sent the first intentional brush against her with his powers. Once more, her hips instinctively clenched. She squirmed slightly in her seat. Rather than let her stew, he stood, stepped over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder again. As before, she automatically followed his guidance.
Initially, Cupid felt her relax, now that her position no longer added pressure to the building discomfort between her thighs. Her confusion mounted again when he led her over to the window. His hand slid from her shoulder to the small of her back. The gesture could be viewed as comforting but also worked on her subconscious as a barrier from escape.
"I understand it is not your own curiosity which makes you ask such questions. I have seen a man I have suspected is a PRA handler in the club. I'm certain he has been too concerned over appearances to inquire himself. Instead, you are expected to appear interested where none of this holds any appeal for you."
Cupid maintained the low level of influence throughout his speech. With his parting shot, however, he increased the effect. Even if the dancer on stage had been choreographed, instead of the improvisation that she and many of the other dancers used, he could not have asked for better timing.
The extra pulse of desire came right when the dancer dropped to her knees and arched back with the big-tipping patron between her thighs, as they reached past the edge of the stage. The move was clearly intended to suggest he was the reason for her ecstatic collapse. From the gasp at Cupid's side, and the way the young heroine sucked her lower lip between her teeth, the display was not lost on her.
"Was there anything else you needed to speak to me about?"
Sparrow couldn't even respond with more than the tiniest shake of her head. Her attention was firmly fixed on the action on stage. Her breasts had begun to swell noticeably with each breath. While her head leaned toward what she thought was the cause of her growing desires, her back pressed firmly against the subconscious support of his hand.
It was this later signal that Cupid used to his advantage. The comforting support slid around to her side in a partial embrace. The moment his body pressed against hers, the pressure transferred from his arm to snuggle against his side. He kept his own face towards the window, but he leaned his head over so he could better whisper in her ear.
"Despite the social stigma, there is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying the sensuality of a dance."
Sparrow's head tilted away from Cupid. If not for her half-lidded eyes and shortened breath he might have thought it an instinct to shy away from him. As it was, he recognized the desire that now filled her, regardless of his own efforts, and knew she subconsciously bared her sensitive throat to him. He added to their contact by slowly rubbing his other hand up and down her arm.
Awkwardness overcame the young woman and she couldn't figure out what to do with her hands. She knew she could no longer keep her arms crossed beneath her breasts, as attractive as he found the way it propped and emphasized them. It was too defensive a gesture and somewhere, deep within her psyche, she had already opened herself fully to him.
Her hands continued to cross her body, but now one dropped to hold the hand rested on her waist and the other held her opposite elbow. Cupid stopped rubbing her arm and came to rest on her hand. After a moment, she followed his lead and their hands dropped to rest on her hip.
By now, his body sent out its signals without any need to focus on his part. He could allow himself to enjoy the way his body melded against hers as he slid from her side to pressed against her back. He'd have liked for his straining crotch to be nestled in the softness of her butt but he was too tall, and she too short, for that. Instead, he accepted the warmth of the way their tight-pressed bodies surrounded him.
"I've..." Sparrow started breathlessly. "I've never...before...I don't know..."
"Shhhhh." He whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "It's okay. I do know."
Cupid took her moan, and the way she sank back into his embrace, as encouragement to continue. Conscious of her lack of experience, he started slowly. His hands began to wander up and down her waist and hips. He relished the way her breathing deepened. He luxuriated in the softness that covered an undeniable layer of muscles; tough but vulnerable.
His height gave him a perfect vantage, as he looked down on her. Her eyes were closed and her head rested back against his chest. Her lush mouth lay open slightly in a mew as she began to lose herself in the simple sensations. The skin-tight costume hugged her breasts and held them both pert and separate; perfect mounds that begged to be enjoyed.
Sparrow tensed when she sensed his wandering hands were about to cross out of plutonic territory. This was to be the first test of her resolve. Cupid added a slight boost to the need he poured into her. Even with that, however, it was always possible her nerves, or any conditioning from her guardians at the PRA, would overpower her lust.
If she told him to stop, he would. There was no benefit for him to push the matter. If he tried, the least he would do was prove himself a criminal. Any scrutiny by the PRA, and they would most certainly investigate if one of their operatives was molested against her will, and he would prove to be even more. By their definitions, he already was technically a super-villain. He used his paranormal ability outside of the sanction of their precious organization.
"Oh God!"
His hands barely caressed the sides of her plush breasts and her body shuddered. He wondered vaguely if he had overdone it with her desire but decided not. He felt full and ready himself so he couldn't be blamed with how much of that spilled over into her. Besides, she likely had years of repression caused by a notable lack of social contact.
Cupid cupped the sides of her breasts a little harder with each pass. Whether or not she knew what to do, her body certainly did. Her hips began to sway back and forth, intent on enflaming that which already strained against the confines of its flesh. Her lack of height meant that her delicious ass didn't actually rub against anything but his thighs but that helped him keep his composure.
A hitch caught in her breath when he gave up the pretense of an innocent massage and slid his fingers beneath her breasts to cup and measure their perfection. His own lust pulsed in sympathy at the way her hips jerked forward out of rhythm. He treasured the feel of her as he firmly caressed from base to rounded tip.
Sparrow's breath shuddered in time with his ministrations. He hadn't realized how wound up she really was. His fingers reached the peak of her outthrust breasts and closed around the nipples that were so hard that the costume could not help but define them. A light pinch and tug sent her over the edge.
Cupid dropped an arm around her waist and supported her weight, even as her body collapsed into convulsions. Orgasm wracked her body and the feel of her loss of control, pressed against his trapped manhood, quickly unwound all of his plans for the evening. It was all he could do to keep from following her into ecstasy.
He had intended to draw things out and demonstrate every manner in which he could remove her inhibitions before he finally consented to enter her. Now, he barely felt he could wait a minute longer. He made a mental compromise between his Id and his plans to ensnare her as one of his regular lovers. She would need a bit more enticing before she found him irreplaceable but he could save most of what he had planned for another night. He decided a second night, where he surpassed himself, could only cement her bond to him. As excuses went, he found it eminently worthy.
Sparrow bucked and spasmed against his restraining arm. Every time he thought she might wane, he shifted tactics on her breast. His rough massage turned into the flick of his fingers across her nipple turned into circles traced around her areola only to dart in with another flick. When that began to wane he pinched her more firmly and rolled it between his fingers, betting that the slight addition of pain wouldn't scare her away this far into her climax.
After several unrelenting minutes, his free hand dropped back to rest on her waist. Instantly, her weight sagged against his arms as the last of her ecstatic energy purged itself through minute aftershocks. He noticed what sounded like a mantra, murmured over and over. The sound was dampened by her dark hair, as it hung around her drooped head, so he leaned closer to hear what she said.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so, soooo, sorry." Her words finally registered at the same time that he felt the first hot tear drip onto his arm. Unseen, Cupid couldn't help a triumphant, feral, grin. As incredulous as it would seem to anyone with experience, he knew the apology was directed at him.
Cupid quickly schooled his face to one of concern and lifted a hand to wipe away the tears. "Why the tears? What are you sorry for? You have done absolutely nothing wrong."
His apparent offer of clemency only spurred more tears, even as she tried to explain. "I...I just...I couldn't control...I tried to hold it in but..."
"My dear, why on Earth would you wish to do that?"
Sparrow tilted her head so that she could look up at him through the curtain of her hair. "It's not...I...you didn't..."
"Shhhhhh." Cupid whispered as he put a finger to her lips. "That's not wrong. A young woman should be brought such bliss over and over again. A man must worry about such things, as we need time to recuperate, and a gentleman will make certain, but you, my dear, can be shown many, many stages of Heaven."
"I don't..." She began. He was pleased to note that her tears had stopped, replaced with nothing more than nerves and uncertainty. "I don't know what to do."
Although Cupid's smile was gentle and understanding, inwardly he wanted to crow and grin like a madman. She had just given him her complete consent. His trap closed around her and all she could do is think herself lucky he brought such gentle skill to this unexpected encounter.
"All you need to do is to show me how to remove your remarkable garment. As flattering as it is on you, and as successful as I can be in spite of it, there are still things it will prevent between us."
She nodded. Her eyes were lit with gratitude and an innocent hope. Cupid practically fed on the combination. Her complete lack of experience was intoxicating. The knowledge that he could mold her into whatever kind of lover he wished made him feel as powerful as the god he had named himself after. But there was time for all that later.
Sparrow reached up, with both hands, and twisted the fabric at the nape of her neck. Suddenly, the fabric parted slightly. Cupid placed a kiss on the newly-exposed flesh and was rewarded by another shudder of approval and a quiet squeak of pleasure. From there, he drew her hands away and returned them to her stomach where she folded them.
It was harder than he expected to unpeel her outfit. While he had plenty of experience with spandex, and while this certainly resembled the skin-tight material, it was stiffer and more difficult to pull. Cupid remained undeterred.
He kept one hand around her waist. This not only gave her the confidence and comfort of his support, but also ensured she remained completely submissive to his will. He knew the subconscious effect remained strong when her hands lightly clutched his arm and pulled it tighter about herself.
The seam down her back opened easily once begun. He allowed the slightest bit of space between his back and her chest so that he could revel in the sight of her exposed flesh. Her silky smooth skin was revealed to the small of her back, barely above the cleft of her perfect ass. With only a slight adjustment, the soft curves of her shoulder blades lay bare before him.
After a moment to enjoy the virgin sight of her silken flesh, he leaned forward to place a kiss on the side of her neck. A slight adjustment and his lips discovered the sensitive skin that covered her jugular. Her legs squirmed with discomfort once more while she moaned in appreciation. When next his mouth fell upon the spot, his teeth dragged lightly over it. Her weight momentarily dropped fully into his embrace before she regained her composure.
His hand slid beneath the exposed edge of the material to cover her shoulder. As his lips plucked and tormented her neck, his fingers slid down the length of her arm, pushing the costume before them. While she remained fully entranced by his kisses, half of her torso opened for him. Her breast popped free of its encasement and proved how unnecessary the material was in defiance of gravity.
Rather than continue down, he slid his hand back up her exposed side. Once he reached the soft mound of her breast, he traced a line beneath it until he could place his palm in the center of her chest. His thumb playfully rubbed between her breasts, but otherwise he simply switched her weight from one arm to the other.
Sensing his intend, Sparrow shifted her hands from one wrist to the other after no more than a tiny tug of his arm. His mouth trailed up her neck and his breath teased her ear, even as his lips began to pluck and kiss her lobe. Her breath shortened further when his hand trailed down her other arm. Moments later her top lay completely bare, held up only by the cuffs at her wrists.
Cupid worked his lips back down her neck and to the tender junction where it met her shoulders. Meanwhile, his hands found hers. It took a little prodding, the heroine uncertain of her balance and strength to stand, but he managed to spread her hands until they hovered, lightly held by the tips of his fingers, just past each of her shoulders. Once certain they would remain, he slid the cuffs over her hands and allowed the top of the costume to drop and dangle from where it remained secure, clinging to her full hips.
Cupid walked his kisses across the shivering muscles of her shoulder. His hands returned to hers and he guided her arms out wide to her sides. When he dropped back from her, still holding her hands wide, she had to be aware how much like her namesake she resembled, wings open in flight.
Lost in the moment, Sparrow would never realize he had placed her on display. It would take quite a bit of, seemingly-pointless, effort for a patron to turn around and look up at the usually dark wall of his office window. Why bother when the action was on stage? Not so for the dancers, however.
On stage, CallyAnne glanced up with an approving grin and a playful wink. The girls of the club didn't mind when he added someone new to his growing harem. They seemed to consider it a kind of sisterhood, one that the uninitiated dancers had come to envy, even if they didn't know how to join. Besides, none of them had reason to complain. Thanks to his power he not only had the ability to satisfy so many but also the need.
He leaned forward and gave Sparrow a flamboyant kiss on her neck. He was rewarded not only with a shudder from the woman within his grasp but a stutter in the dance routine on stage. He suspected that this particular dancer would jump the schedule and corner him sometime later that night.
Carefully, Cupid began to lower his hands. When Sparrow's moved to follow, he returned them to their place. After a second attempt, she understood his will and he was able to bring his hands back to her body while she kept herself open before him. One hand wrapped around her to support her weight and cup her opposite breast. The other slid around her side to rest on her bare navel.
He trailed kisses around the back of her neck and sucked on the untouched side. Her moans of appreciation had become whimpers. Unfortunately for her, she was unaware of even her need, much less what her body demanded. All she could know was that the sensations within her had shifted from uplifting to heavy. The soft fluidity within her core hardened and began to push outward in a demand to release.
He kept a tight grip on her while his hand wandered discreetly down. This time, she had some inkling what was coming and let her body be goaded. Her groin began to twitch forward and back, desperate for the fingers that added a delicious pressure when they sank into her pliable flesh to slip beneath the edge of her dangling costume.
Soft fuzz greeted his hands. Experience told him she kept herself neatly trimmed and he found himself a little disappointed. Most of his girls shaved little shapes into their hair as very nearly trademarks. Sparrow was so young, so inexperienced, he had almost hoped she would be clean-shaven as befit her purity. He would probably mold her to the fashion he preferred.
Sparrow's breath quickened as his hand quested farther. He pressed his palm heavily against her pelvis while his fingers pushed deeper. Her body shook with anticipation as a single finger began to push through the hot folds of her flesh. He let loose a grunt of appreciation upon discovering his finger drowned by her readiness.
The first brush of her hidden nub sent Sparrow into convulsions. She giggled and sputtered as he traced slow circles. Tremors overtook her upraised arms until she threw them forward, her palms pressed against the cool glass, in an attempt to keep from tearing her own clothes apart determined to find her tormentor and stop the unbearable bliss that exploded out from her core.
Cupid leaned forward. Unable to support her own weight, she shifted with him until her body pressed against the glass wall. Her weight trapped his hand and added pressure. He pressed harder with each circle until his finger bore around the base of her tender clit. Her giggles turned to barks and gained strength. When she began to scream, he was glad he accepted the extra expense for the soundproof glass.
The look CallyAnne gave him was positively feral. Cupid almost wished he had a camera set up somewhere where he could view the effect from outside. He would have loved to have seen her perfect breasts crushed against the glass or the way her face contorted in pleasure while turned to one side and pressed flat. Most of all, he loved to see his women twitch and jerk with every slight shift of his fingers. The risk that such visuals, along with everything else that transpired in his office, fell into the wrong hands had always kept him from setting up such a device, however.
Sparrow's screams began to fade. Cupid stopped his fingers but slid his hand more fully between her legs. The way he cupped her lust helped to calm her while still preventing her from accidentally instigating fresh torment by rubbing against her tight costume. It also sent a subconscious message, to the inexperienced woman, of possession. By not resisting his casual grip, she programmed her own mind to accept it freely.
"Come." Cupid urged as he gently peeled her away from the glass. It was one thing to put her on display in the throws of masturbatory passion but another entirely to potentially expose himself to the view of the audience below. There was always the possibility that her handler would arrive at an inopportune moment and he would rather not that particular scrutiny.
Sparrow staggered around under his guidance and support. It was a little awkward, with one hand held between her legs to protect her from her own sensitivity and the other wrapped around her chest, but her expression was more than worth it. Half-lidded eyes and a delirious smile helped to cover the awkwardness.
The young woman had likely discovered self-pleasure in the years since she reached puberty. Cupid doubted, however, that she had ever worked herself into a state even close to the one she was currently in. He knew what the effect would be when he removed his protective hand from between her legs. Even minutes after the height of her orgasm had passed, he could still feel slight tremors wrack her body.
Poly-fiber-titanium closed in behind Cupid's retreating hand. A shiver began with her hips and radiated down her legs and up her torso when the fabric slid between her tender folds. Her head shot back when the seam of her costume hit the enflamed bud. The pressure his hand placed on the waistline, as he pulled free, caused the outfit to ride up and press cruelly against all of her overly-sensitive flesh.
Sparrow collapsed onto the couch whimpering in a mini-orgasm. Cupid guided her just enough to prevent her from missing the target furniture but otherwise allowed her to experience her helplessness.
"Should I help you remove these?" Cupid asked as innocently as he could manage.
"Please!" She squeaked.
Cupid knelt in front of the exhausted woman. His whole body thrummed with excitement. He could never have handled the full compliment of plans he had anticipated for the evening. He could barely control himself now enough to remove her outfit completely and gently. Every part of him insisted that he flip her over and slam himself into her over and over until the cushions smothered her face and muted her screams.
Plenty of time for that in the future.
It took a little work to peel the stiff material off of her without causing too many aftershocks. Cupid didn't worry about the sticky mess that practically poured from between her legs without the tight outfit to hold it in. There would be plenty more by the time they were done. Besides, he expected a fair portion of it to be smeared across her back and the shower in his private bathroom would take care of that.
She wore no underwear. Cupid had felt that when he first slipped his hand beneath the fabric. Given the skin-tight nature of the outfit, even a thong would leave an impression for all to see. Besides, the material could offer more support than the best designed underwear ever produced.
Even knowing the truth did nothing to prepare him for the sight of her completely bare and half-sprawled on the couch before him. The tight costume left nothing to the imagination. And yet, somehow, even his deepest fantasies of this moment proved no more than a flicker compared to her brilliance.
Cupid's pulse raced. His fingers fumbled with his slacks, desperate to be divested of any clothes that prevented what was now inevitable. She moaned in response, too overwhelmed by the pleasure so far to form a more coherent reply. Her body echoed his burning need but lacked the strength to aid or deny him.
Finally, Cupid managed to work his pants open, despite the engorged obstruction. He unceremoniously kicked off his shoes when he realized they kept him from removing his clothing fully. He caught one of her legs as he climbed onto the couch and shifted her body to lay along the length. He hooked her heel on the back of the couch to spread her wide before him.
Cupid forced himself to drink in the sight. For more than a year he had dreamed of this moment. His plans had been slow to culminate but her mocha skin, and the dark triangle of fuzz that pointed directly at the glistening red heat that beckoned to him, made it more than worthwhile.
Even though she clearly lacked any strength, and her foot remained firmly hooked on the top edge of the couch, Cupid shifted his leg up until his thigh nestled behind her knee. With his body planted on the couch, her legs were now trapped open. One arm draped off the edge of the couch while the other trailed up to fold beneath her lolling head. If anyone saw her like this they would likely demand a test for drugs. The knowledge that he had brought that about simply through pleasure was as almost intoxicating as her bare and willing flesh.
Sparrow felt the change in atmosphere, likely through the added weight on the couch, and rolled her head weakly to stare down her own body at him. Dim eyes widened slightly at the sight of his naked lower half. A flicker of fear passed across her face but could not hold beneath the weight of knowledge he had already born upon her. After the moment passed, she bit her lower lip and her breath shortened in nervous anticipation.
Cupid leaned forward. His face dipped toward her chest. His mouth closed around one firm nipple and her breath hitched. His teeth cemented its placement and her voice began a wordless tone, as if her body literally hummed with the tension that rapidly built within her once more. The first flick of his tongue sent her head back into the cushion and her back arching. Her body thrust her breast towards him; eager for everything he could give her.
As much as he wanted to, he didn't plunge right in. Cupid knew he would need to soon, or else he would spill himself over her dark skin. Given her revelations, however, he needed her a bit more ready, if he wanted her to leave with nothing but the best memories. So his solid length found her folds but used them as a guide to rub across her clit.
She was so wet he barely felt her flesh as it parted smoothly beneath him. His hips beat against hers, familiarizing her with the sensation before she took the full measure of him. Her arched back quickly began to buck as her screams started anew.
That was what he needed.
In one fluid motion Cupid slid back and plunged inside her. Her muscles could not hold him, as well lubricated as she had become. A brief pressure blocked his path but proved an obstacle, not a barrier. Sparrow let out a yelp as he broke through but quickly lost the pain beneath the layers of pleasure he had built within her in stages.
It was glorious! Everything Cupid had imagined and more. He began to pump his hips, thrusting himself hard and fast in and out of her. Despite the evidence of her lust, likely mixed with blood from her broken flesh, she clung tightly to him. He filled every inch of her and pushed back against those tender walls. His tip brushed against the rear edge of her with every pounding attack.
Sparrow's nipple pulled from the light grip of Cupid's teeth as she began to buck and writhe. The grin that split his face spoke of feral triumph. His legs penned her in place for his rough thrusts. One hand pressed against her shoulder, pinned her down, while his other held her bent elbow against the back of the soft couch to open her upper body to him as fully as her lower was.
Cupid allowed his power full release and lust, desire, and need filled her overflowing senses and splashed over onto him. Fire burned through his nerves and lent his muscles greater urgency and strength. His hips crashed against hers; pounding him as deeply as his body could manage. His groin filled to unbearable pressure. Electricity ran beneath his very skin.
One last time, he threw his body forward. Cupid wasn't so much buried within her as entrapped by her. On the very edge of his own climax, he swelled to the very limits of his skin and stretched her well beyond their ability to smoothly glide across each other, regardless of the lubrication she produced.
Sparrow's barked screams, now shading to horse, held more than a hint of pain once more. Cupid was beyond caring. The furnace, the supernova star, that was her lust radiated its heat directly into him to ignite the volcano within him. All of the built up heat and pressure raced out of him and exploded inside her.
Instinct forced his hips to begin thrusting once more, despite his predicament. Flesh ground against flesh, unable to pull away. Cupid groaned and sighed, euphoric over the depths that he poured his essence into; untouched territory. He marked her, not only claimed by right of primacy but through psychology. She had submitted to him and would thank him for despoiling her and beg for anything he chose to do to her.
Cupid collapsed on top of her. It didn't matter that he weighed nearly twice as much as the young heroine or that his leg accidentally pushed hers nearly to the limit of articulation. She was a fire beneath him and a solid mass on which he could recover. As maddening as he had found the need to delay his own gratification, to draw her more fully under his control, it had been worth it. Even if he never again fucked her, that had been one of the most pristine orgasms he had ever experienced.
Even as Cupid began to get his breath back under control, he began to soften. Without the unrelenting pressure that had filled him, he could once more slide free of her. Now that he was a bit more in control of himself, he pushed off of her more gently to collapse against the opposite corner of the couch.
"How do you feel?" Cupid asked with a self-satisfied smirk. He doubted she could even form a thought, much less answer him. He was right. She mumbled something unintelligible. She had yet to move despite the opal essence that began to pour out of her and seep between those perfect cheeks.
"Ah. In that case, I shall take the first shift in the shower." Cupid continued. "You are, of course, free to join me. If you can find the energy and courage for much more of the same."
Truthfully, Cupid wasn't certain he had it in him for another round so soon after such an Earth-shattering finish. He could, of course, always use his power to revive himself, if she did manage to join him. He suspected that she would remain immobile on his couch well into the evening, however.
As for her courage, it didn't much matter. He knew from experience how addictive sequential multiple orgasms could be. Even the most repressed personality would eventually fight to find a reason not to return, rather than the other way around.
Besides, as helpless as she was now, he might even offer her to one of the more versatile dancers. There were one or two who enjoyed women, even one still spoiled by the remnants of a male lover. Cupid smiled to himself and nodded in confirmation. That would work well, especially since those dancers proved very grateful for the opportunity. Later, he knew, his seed would coat front and back of another woman.
Not a bad reward for a night's work. Cupid thought as he glanced out the window on his way to the shower.
Copyright January 2014, by Deathlynx
She was proof that a percentage or two of body fat only made the female form more perfect. Of course, the D-cups and full hips didn't hurt either. And all of that was completely independent of the bright red-white-and-blue spandex outfit that clung to every curve to leave no hint of her body to the imagination.
And she had turned eighteen only days before.
For reasons known to very few, Cupid kept a very close eye on the PRA. Oh, he didn't have nearly the penetration of the organization as he would really have liked, but he at least kept track of every scrap of public knowledge they let slip. And it was hard not to know about the baby girl that had been discovered with the ability to float, literally since birth.
Initially, Cupid hadn't taken much interest in her. What did it matter to him if the group that monitored and licensed paranormals had adopted some brat to be officially raised by them? The answer was, nothing more than any other agent he could get info on. It wasn't until a year or so ago that he became aware of how alluring she had become.
Lust was nothing to be scoffed at. All of Cupid's life revolved around the carnal emotion. It was the heart of the strip club he ran and the attached hotel rooms that he owned. And it was the focus of the ability he kept secret from everyone. Oh, there might be a few that had guessed he was a para, but as long as he kept away from the telepaths and power sensors, no one could prove anything.
Then again, someone at the PRA had guessed a para operated out of Cupid's Desires or Sparrow wouldn't have been there right now. That was fine by Cupid, however. In fact, he had cultivated that sentiment very closely, over the last few months.
Shortly after Sparrow had come fully onto his radar, Cupid had quietly sought to discover who her handler was. Once he knew, it was pure simplicity to arrange a chance encounter. After that, her handler had taken advantage of the at-cost drinks that friends of the owner got at the strip club.
As the date of the magnificent heroine's majority approached, Cupid began to use his ability on her handler. Every time a certain dancer took the stage, the club owner shot the tiniest bit of lust straight at the handler's libido. The greater the sensation, the more he would tip the girl. Over time, he gradually increased the effect until, days ago, it must have been great enough that the handler finally realized it wasn't a completely natural effect of the woman's gyrations and unspoken suggestions.
It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Cupid, though he usually made certain to vary both the targets and the recipients of their attentions. A little here, a little there, and his club had a reputation for having the most alluring dancers around.
Now, Sparrow had been sent to investigate her young handler's suspicions. Just on schedule.
As Cupid watched, the bartender pointed the luscious heroine towards the stairs. Per protocol, she would seek out the owner of the establishment in order to arrange a conversation with the suspect. Cupid pressed the intercom button on his phone and hit the number of his manager's station, back stage.
"Pearl. Please have Ruby sent up to my office?"
"Yes sir, Mr. Cupid."
"Darling. How many times have I told you? It's just Cupid."
"Many, I suspect, Mr. Cupid." Cupid rolled his eyes at the endearing byplay. "If you're in need of some relief, however, I would be more than happy to accommodate you. I think things will run smoothly without me for a short while."
Bless her. Like all things, use of his ability came with a price. While not nearly as potent, Cupid was afflicted with a fraction of the lust he inspired. It was a small boost each time but by the end of the night it could become nearly unbearable.
A few of the longer-running girls had noticed his burden, although they thought it no more unusual than being forced to watch the erotic displays for hours on end. They had taken it upon themselves to help him relieve the tension. It was by no means a condition of working there. He had never even approached a single girl about it. One of them invariably showed up, sometime near closing time, and worked her wiles on him in the privacy of his office. When a newer girl showed up, he knew she had caught on to the action, been set to rights about the nature of it, and had chosen to offer herself.
Cupid found himself a bit disappointed that Pearl might think he would ask for it himself. At the same time, he was flattered that she was willing, even eager, to help him. He considered it proof of how well he treated the girls that they had to work out a schedule to allow everyone who wanted a chance to help. He'd never seen the list, but he'd caught whispers when they thought he couldn't hear.
"No, thank you, Pearl." He responded quickly. "Actually, we have an unexpected guest I believe wants to speak with her."
"Understood, Mr. Cupid. I'll send her right up."
Cupid smiled and shook his head once more. She was a bit incorrigible but he could not fault either her devotion or her capabilities. Without her, the club would never run half as smoothly as it did.
A knock at the door turned his head. Sparrow had vanished into the stairwell just long enough ago that it should be her. The push of another button on the phone unlocked the door even as he called out. "Enter."
Cupid was every bit as susceptible to attraction as anyone else. The door opened and his breath caught. He had never seen Sparrow in person. She was taller than he expected, even though he knew her exact dimensions from his research. She also walked with full confidence in the authority granted to her as one of the most trusted agents of the PRA.
Red boots climbed to her knees but the lack of any significant heel proved the height was all hers. Above that, her outfit shone shockingly white. Somehow, the very purity of the color drew attention to her perfect curves. A deep blue began beneath her arms and traced the upper curve of her breasts to plunge between them like a dagger and further accentuate her perfect figure.
Cupid couldn't help himself. His power reached out to tickle her. The moment he saw her, his need became achingly acute. In a fitting reciprocal of his normal ability, whenever something attracted his desire so strongly, he could not help but reflect a portion of that need on the object of his desire.
"Mr. Cupid. My name is Sparrow. I'm with the PRA and am here on official business."
No one could own an establishment dedicated to desire without understanding the slightest signs of it. Likewise, he had learned early as a result of his own abilities. A small flare of triumph curled through his breast as he watched the young heroine try to cope with her sudden desires, however small.
Muscles low in her body clenched ever so slightly. Her lip sucked in to be nibbled on during each pause in her prepared speech. Her eyes darted about nervously, though he obviously couldn't tell if she instinctively sought escape or looked for any possible witnesses should she succumb. Either way, her focus settled on the window behind him that looked out onto the whole of the club.
"Welcome, Sparrow." Cupid managed to offer without too many signs of the strength of his own desire. "Please, have a seat. And call me just Cupid."
"Thank you." The look in her eyes demonstrated exactly how honest her grateful reply was.
He understood completely. Sitting, they both found themselves less likely to reveal their aroused states. Unfortunately, seated in front of the desk as she was, there was nothing to mar his sight of her as there was her of him. The faux-spandex material of her costume continued to entice him so neither felt a measure of relief from his need.
"How can I help you, Sparrow? Does the PRA suspect I might harbor some super-powered villain?"
"In a manner of speaking only." She quickly assured him, unaware of her increased desire to please him as he pleased her. "It is far more likely that we've merely uncovered someone with an innate ability they were simply unaware of. If there's anything here at all, of course."
"Of course." He agreed. "How may I be of service?"
Cupid added a hint of innuendo, along with the slightest intentional use of his ability, with the offer. He was pleased and heartened to see her breath catch, almost imperceptibly. What surprised him, however, was the way she began to fidget immediately. If he had to guess, either it had been quite a long time for the girl or she had never actually consummated a relationship before. He had suspected she might be a virgin, but he had no proof of it. That would make this conquest that much sweeter.
"I need to speak with one of your dancers. I believe her stage name is Ruby?"
"Of course. I assume you would like to use my office for a private audience?"
Sparrow's flush of embarrassment came as a bit of a surprise to him. After a moment of reflection, he realized the possible, and completely unintended, innuendo. He also realized that her allure only increased when her embarrassment flared. He knew he could easily bring about the same reaction in much more pleasurable ways. That caused another pulse of his ability between the two which very nearly set up a recursive loop when she thought the spike of lust might have come from her own thoughts and caused further embarrassment.
To break the cycle, Cupid quickly stood and hurried over to the door. He knew that to look at the young woman would cause him to lose the last shreds of control. It had only happened once before but a lack of focus with his ability so near meltdown could cause the entire club to devolve into an orgy of desire that only stopped when he finally passed out.
Cupid leaned heavily on the doorknob as he pulled it open and crossed the threshold into his waiting room. Ruby stood immediately the moment he came out. One look at him and she began to advance with a playful glint in her gaze.
As turned on as he was, he desperately wished he could take full advantage of the promises those eyes made. His body hummed with demands that he except her offer and release every bit of sexual tension by making her scream in pleasure. Not to mention release himself as deep as he could bury himself between her thighs. Only two things stopped him. The first was that there was no guarantee that it would corral his perilous control. The second was that he knew he would lose any chance to be with the lovely young heroine in the other room.
Cupid waved Ruby off and collapsed into a chair. Concerned, the dancer hovered over him. She knew his body cried out for her but just as certainly could sense it wasn't really her he wanted. After a few deep breaths, he managed to explain to her who was in his office and what she wanted.
More confused than concerned, Ruby crossed the room and closed the door behind her. Cupid gripped the arms of the chair and continued with his deep breaths. He could think of nothing else but control. Slowly, his pulse came back under control and his body didn't feel quite so hot.
He nearly jumped when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He hadn't heard the door open and had no clue that Ruby had crossed the room to him. When he looked up, she looked concerned, but not necessarily for herself. It was more a sisterly, or friendly, kind of emotion.
"You okay, boss?"
Cupid nodded. "Yes. I just had to get a bit of air."
Ruby's eyes twinkled mischievously. "I can see why. She's quite a piece of work. I think even Camille would be tempted at that sight. You thinking about trying to hire her? A little extra cash on the side of her real job?"
There was a bit of worry behind the question. Cupid understood it perfectly. No matter how much she might like the girl, or admit her appeal, she would be afraid of her stealing all the best customers. If the Latino heroine did decide to dance, he had no doubt those fears would be confirmed.
"Don't worry." Cupid assured her. "She's not here for a job. Given the high profile nature of the PRA, I don't think even the most misogynistic handler would allow an agent to work at a place as controversial as this."
Ruby's relief was instant and obvious. She nodded and headed towards the stairs. Cupid watched, thankful for something familiar to further help ground him. She glanced back a couple of times and continued her offer to help his situation. He took a deep breath and walked over to the door of his office and opened it a crack.
"Yes sir, I understand......I will sir......Right away."
Cupid opened the door before her voice faded. He imagined that had been her report and could only assume that the young woman had confirmed what he already knew; that the dancer showed no signs of ability whatsoever. What her handler had asked of her, he didn't know but suspected he would find out soon enough.
Sparrow still sat in the comfortable armchair he had offered her. Now, she had her knees pulled up to her chest and her feet on the edge of the seat. Cupid found himself relieved that he was behind her or else the sight of her exposed crotch would have driven him nuts. Instead, the pose endeavored to suggest every bit of youth and inexperience he knew she possessed.
"Is everything okay?" Cupid didn't care. It was a platitude, nothing more. He knew, however, if he simply thrust his power at her and overwhelmed her with desire, he wouldn't get what he really wanted. He had to play confidant, if only just this once, if he wanted her to come back to him begging.
Sparrow jumped in her seat, as if she had just been caught off guard. Her head spun around to look at him over her shoulder. The look of mingled panic, confusion and disappointment was not what he wanted to see, but he knew he could work with it. He had worked through worse in his time without having to resort to his abilities.
Cupid crossed the office under the weight of that accusing stare. As he passed her, his hand dropped lightly to her back, by the nape of her neck, to trail across her shoulder where he lingered a moment before he passed too far away and let it drop. He spun and leaned back against his desk. He was more than a little relieved to see that her ankles crossed and kept her from inadvertently offering herself up on a platter before him.
Sparrow dropped her feet to the floor. Her knees pressed tightly together as they dropped to the edge of the seat, in firm denial of what he knew she must feel pulsing between her legs. Her hands folded in her lap in another subconscious defensive measure. She leaned forward slightly to ask her question.
"Is this a brothel?"
"No, my dear." Cupid smiled gently. "Of course, you might think I would say that to any authority figure but, remember, I know your organization's mandates. You have no authority in this case. True, you could go to the police if I told you it was but let's be honest, it would be your word against mine. In a trial we both know how a jury would lean in the case of a norm against a para."
Sparrow's eyes dropped; ashamed, he assumed, of her own status as a "freak". Just because she had been raised by an organization peopled with those with powers didn't mean they were more enlightened when it came to the abnormal. If anything, the PRA was even harsher on paras as a means to keep them under control despite the vast difference in personal power.
"So, you don't rent out rooms so that the patrons can...can..."
"Make love with the dancers?" Cupid finished for her. He was further enticed by the way she blushed. By the end of the evening, he would see her whole body so flush. "Yes, in fact, I do."
Sparrow's eyes snapped up to look at him, full of shock and confusion that he would admit it so openly. Rather than explain right away, he pushed himself off of the desk and closed the distance between them. He tried not to think of how close his standing position placed him in regards to her full lips but didn't mind if her gaze had wandered down to note how tight his slacks were.
Cupid placed a hand on her shoulder. It caused her to jump once more. Her gaze whipped back up to his, another blush fresh on her cheeks at being caught staring. Rather than acknowledge it, and cause her even more embarrassment, he gently guided her from the seat. In a bit of a daze, not to mention conditioned literally from birth to follow the authority of a norm, she allowed herself to be walked from the chair over to sit at the end of the soft couch against one wall of his office.
"You forget, my dear, that this whole establishment revolves around desire." He explained as he guided her and then positioned himself at the opposite end of the couch, facing her. "Lust is not something to be reviled. It is completely natural. Let's be honest, more often than not it is the foundation upon which love is built. Even when it isn't, love does not feel complete without a healthy dose to lend excitement."
"I wouldn't know." Sparrow mumbled as her hands began to fidget. Although Cupid smiled inwardly, outwardly he only allowed himself a hint of understanding pity.
"I do rent the rooms out, for those couples who find themselves overwhelmed by desire while here. Couples frequently come to the club together, only to become so enthralled that they find themselves too impatient to return home.
"And, yes, often a single patron will find him-, or her-, self needing a room for an assignation with one of my dancers." He continued, but quickly qualified himself. "I won't prevent lovers from offering or accepting gifts with each other, no matter how expensive, but it is no more a requirement than in any relationship. But the only time money changes hands around here is for the room itself or drinks at the bar."
"Or when stuffed in the dancer's g-strings?" It was wonderful to hear the slightly teasing tone from the young woman as she glanced awkwardly at the window that nearly covered the far wall. She was beginning to relax a little.
Cupid chuckled lightly. "Actually, we discourage that kind of thing. The patrons are expected to leave it on the edge of the stage. Actually putting it anywhere on their body is just asking for someone to go to far and grope one of the women. Or worse."
Very slightly, Cupid sent the first intentional brush against her with his powers. Once more, her hips instinctively clenched. She squirmed slightly in her seat. Rather than let her stew, he stood, stepped over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder again. As before, she automatically followed his guidance.
Initially, Cupid felt her relax, now that her position no longer added pressure to the building discomfort between her thighs. Her confusion mounted again when he led her over to the window. His hand slid from her shoulder to the small of her back. The gesture could be viewed as comforting but also worked on her subconscious as a barrier from escape.
"I understand it is not your own curiosity which makes you ask such questions. I have seen a man I have suspected is a PRA handler in the club. I'm certain he has been too concerned over appearances to inquire himself. Instead, you are expected to appear interested where none of this holds any appeal for you."
Cupid maintained the low level of influence throughout his speech. With his parting shot, however, he increased the effect. Even if the dancer on stage had been choreographed, instead of the improvisation that she and many of the other dancers used, he could not have asked for better timing.
The extra pulse of desire came right when the dancer dropped to her knees and arched back with the big-tipping patron between her thighs, as they reached past the edge of the stage. The move was clearly intended to suggest he was the reason for her ecstatic collapse. From the gasp at Cupid's side, and the way the young heroine sucked her lower lip between her teeth, the display was not lost on her.
"Was there anything else you needed to speak to me about?"
Sparrow couldn't even respond with more than the tiniest shake of her head. Her attention was firmly fixed on the action on stage. Her breasts had begun to swell noticeably with each breath. While her head leaned toward what she thought was the cause of her growing desires, her back pressed firmly against the subconscious support of his hand.
It was this later signal that Cupid used to his advantage. The comforting support slid around to her side in a partial embrace. The moment his body pressed against hers, the pressure transferred from his arm to snuggle against his side. He kept his own face towards the window, but he leaned his head over so he could better whisper in her ear.
"Despite the social stigma, there is absolutely nothing wrong with enjoying the sensuality of a dance."
Sparrow's head tilted away from Cupid. If not for her half-lidded eyes and shortened breath he might have thought it an instinct to shy away from him. As it was, he recognized the desire that now filled her, regardless of his own efforts, and knew she subconsciously bared her sensitive throat to him. He added to their contact by slowly rubbing his other hand up and down her arm.
Awkwardness overcame the young woman and she couldn't figure out what to do with her hands. She knew she could no longer keep her arms crossed beneath her breasts, as attractive as he found the way it propped and emphasized them. It was too defensive a gesture and somewhere, deep within her psyche, she had already opened herself fully to him.
Her hands continued to cross her body, but now one dropped to hold the hand rested on her waist and the other held her opposite elbow. Cupid stopped rubbing her arm and came to rest on her hand. After a moment, she followed his lead and their hands dropped to rest on her hip.
By now, his body sent out its signals without any need to focus on his part. He could allow himself to enjoy the way his body melded against hers as he slid from her side to pressed against her back. He'd have liked for his straining crotch to be nestled in the softness of her butt but he was too tall, and she too short, for that. Instead, he accepted the warmth of the way their tight-pressed bodies surrounded him.
"I've..." Sparrow started breathlessly. "I've never...before...I don't know..."
"Shhhhh." He whispered, his breath tickling her ear. "It's okay. I do know."
Cupid took her moan, and the way she sank back into his embrace, as encouragement to continue. Conscious of her lack of experience, he started slowly. His hands began to wander up and down her waist and hips. He relished the way her breathing deepened. He luxuriated in the softness that covered an undeniable layer of muscles; tough but vulnerable.
His height gave him a perfect vantage, as he looked down on her. Her eyes were closed and her head rested back against his chest. Her lush mouth lay open slightly in a mew as she began to lose herself in the simple sensations. The skin-tight costume hugged her breasts and held them both pert and separate; perfect mounds that begged to be enjoyed.
Sparrow tensed when she sensed his wandering hands were about to cross out of plutonic territory. This was to be the first test of her resolve. Cupid added a slight boost to the need he poured into her. Even with that, however, it was always possible her nerves, or any conditioning from her guardians at the PRA, would overpower her lust.
If she told him to stop, he would. There was no benefit for him to push the matter. If he tried, the least he would do was prove himself a criminal. Any scrutiny by the PRA, and they would most certainly investigate if one of their operatives was molested against her will, and he would prove to be even more. By their definitions, he already was technically a super-villain. He used his paranormal ability outside of the sanction of their precious organization.
"Oh God!"
His hands barely caressed the sides of her plush breasts and her body shuddered. He wondered vaguely if he had overdone it with her desire but decided not. He felt full and ready himself so he couldn't be blamed with how much of that spilled over into her. Besides, she likely had years of repression caused by a notable lack of social contact.
Cupid cupped the sides of her breasts a little harder with each pass. Whether or not she knew what to do, her body certainly did. Her hips began to sway back and forth, intent on enflaming that which already strained against the confines of its flesh. Her lack of height meant that her delicious ass didn't actually rub against anything but his thighs but that helped him keep his composure.
A hitch caught in her breath when he gave up the pretense of an innocent massage and slid his fingers beneath her breasts to cup and measure their perfection. His own lust pulsed in sympathy at the way her hips jerked forward out of rhythm. He treasured the feel of her as he firmly caressed from base to rounded tip.
Sparrow's breath shuddered in time with his ministrations. He hadn't realized how wound up she really was. His fingers reached the peak of her outthrust breasts and closed around the nipples that were so hard that the costume could not help but define them. A light pinch and tug sent her over the edge.
Cupid dropped an arm around her waist and supported her weight, even as her body collapsed into convulsions. Orgasm wracked her body and the feel of her loss of control, pressed against his trapped manhood, quickly unwound all of his plans for the evening. It was all he could do to keep from following her into ecstasy.
He had intended to draw things out and demonstrate every manner in which he could remove her inhibitions before he finally consented to enter her. Now, he barely felt he could wait a minute longer. He made a mental compromise between his Id and his plans to ensnare her as one of his regular lovers. She would need a bit more enticing before she found him irreplaceable but he could save most of what he had planned for another night. He decided a second night, where he surpassed himself, could only cement her bond to him. As excuses went, he found it eminently worthy.
Sparrow bucked and spasmed against his restraining arm. Every time he thought she might wane, he shifted tactics on her breast. His rough massage turned into the flick of his fingers across her nipple turned into circles traced around her areola only to dart in with another flick. When that began to wane he pinched her more firmly and rolled it between his fingers, betting that the slight addition of pain wouldn't scare her away this far into her climax.
After several unrelenting minutes, his free hand dropped back to rest on her waist. Instantly, her weight sagged against his arms as the last of her ecstatic energy purged itself through minute aftershocks. He noticed what sounded like a mantra, murmured over and over. The sound was dampened by her dark hair, as it hung around her drooped head, so he leaned closer to hear what she said.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm so, soooo, sorry." Her words finally registered at the same time that he felt the first hot tear drip onto his arm. Unseen, Cupid couldn't help a triumphant, feral, grin. As incredulous as it would seem to anyone with experience, he knew the apology was directed at him.
Cupid quickly schooled his face to one of concern and lifted a hand to wipe away the tears. "Why the tears? What are you sorry for? You have done absolutely nothing wrong."
His apparent offer of clemency only spurred more tears, even as she tried to explain. "I...I just...I couldn't control...I tried to hold it in but..."
"My dear, why on Earth would you wish to do that?"
Sparrow tilted her head so that she could look up at him through the curtain of her hair. "It's not...I...you didn't..."
"Shhhhhh." Cupid whispered as he put a finger to her lips. "That's not wrong. A young woman should be brought such bliss over and over again. A man must worry about such things, as we need time to recuperate, and a gentleman will make certain, but you, my dear, can be shown many, many stages of Heaven."
"I don't..." She began. He was pleased to note that her tears had stopped, replaced with nothing more than nerves and uncertainty. "I don't know what to do."
Although Cupid's smile was gentle and understanding, inwardly he wanted to crow and grin like a madman. She had just given him her complete consent. His trap closed around her and all she could do is think herself lucky he brought such gentle skill to this unexpected encounter.
"All you need to do is to show me how to remove your remarkable garment. As flattering as it is on you, and as successful as I can be in spite of it, there are still things it will prevent between us."
She nodded. Her eyes were lit with gratitude and an innocent hope. Cupid practically fed on the combination. Her complete lack of experience was intoxicating. The knowledge that he could mold her into whatever kind of lover he wished made him feel as powerful as the god he had named himself after. But there was time for all that later.
Sparrow reached up, with both hands, and twisted the fabric at the nape of her neck. Suddenly, the fabric parted slightly. Cupid placed a kiss on the newly-exposed flesh and was rewarded by another shudder of approval and a quiet squeak of pleasure. From there, he drew her hands away and returned them to her stomach where she folded them.
It was harder than he expected to unpeel her outfit. While he had plenty of experience with spandex, and while this certainly resembled the skin-tight material, it was stiffer and more difficult to pull. Cupid remained undeterred.
He kept one hand around her waist. This not only gave her the confidence and comfort of his support, but also ensured she remained completely submissive to his will. He knew the subconscious effect remained strong when her hands lightly clutched his arm and pulled it tighter about herself.
The seam down her back opened easily once begun. He allowed the slightest bit of space between his back and her chest so that he could revel in the sight of her exposed flesh. Her silky smooth skin was revealed to the small of her back, barely above the cleft of her perfect ass. With only a slight adjustment, the soft curves of her shoulder blades lay bare before him.
After a moment to enjoy the virgin sight of her silken flesh, he leaned forward to place a kiss on the side of her neck. A slight adjustment and his lips discovered the sensitive skin that covered her jugular. Her legs squirmed with discomfort once more while she moaned in appreciation. When next his mouth fell upon the spot, his teeth dragged lightly over it. Her weight momentarily dropped fully into his embrace before she regained her composure.
His hand slid beneath the exposed edge of the material to cover her shoulder. As his lips plucked and tormented her neck, his fingers slid down the length of her arm, pushing the costume before them. While she remained fully entranced by his kisses, half of her torso opened for him. Her breast popped free of its encasement and proved how unnecessary the material was in defiance of gravity.
Rather than continue down, he slid his hand back up her exposed side. Once he reached the soft mound of her breast, he traced a line beneath it until he could place his palm in the center of her chest. His thumb playfully rubbed between her breasts, but otherwise he simply switched her weight from one arm to the other.
Sensing his intend, Sparrow shifted her hands from one wrist to the other after no more than a tiny tug of his arm. His mouth trailed up her neck and his breath teased her ear, even as his lips began to pluck and kiss her lobe. Her breath shortened further when his hand trailed down her other arm. Moments later her top lay completely bare, held up only by the cuffs at her wrists.
Cupid worked his lips back down her neck and to the tender junction where it met her shoulders. Meanwhile, his hands found hers. It took a little prodding, the heroine uncertain of her balance and strength to stand, but he managed to spread her hands until they hovered, lightly held by the tips of his fingers, just past each of her shoulders. Once certain they would remain, he slid the cuffs over her hands and allowed the top of the costume to drop and dangle from where it remained secure, clinging to her full hips.
Cupid walked his kisses across the shivering muscles of her shoulder. His hands returned to hers and he guided her arms out wide to her sides. When he dropped back from her, still holding her hands wide, she had to be aware how much like her namesake she resembled, wings open in flight.
Lost in the moment, Sparrow would never realize he had placed her on display. It would take quite a bit of, seemingly-pointless, effort for a patron to turn around and look up at the usually dark wall of his office window. Why bother when the action was on stage? Not so for the dancers, however.
On stage, CallyAnne glanced up with an approving grin and a playful wink. The girls of the club didn't mind when he added someone new to his growing harem. They seemed to consider it a kind of sisterhood, one that the uninitiated dancers had come to envy, even if they didn't know how to join. Besides, none of them had reason to complain. Thanks to his power he not only had the ability to satisfy so many but also the need.
He leaned forward and gave Sparrow a flamboyant kiss on her neck. He was rewarded not only with a shudder from the woman within his grasp but a stutter in the dance routine on stage. He suspected that this particular dancer would jump the schedule and corner him sometime later that night.
Carefully, Cupid began to lower his hands. When Sparrow's moved to follow, he returned them to their place. After a second attempt, she understood his will and he was able to bring his hands back to her body while she kept herself open before him. One hand wrapped around her to support her weight and cup her opposite breast. The other slid around her side to rest on her bare navel.
He trailed kisses around the back of her neck and sucked on the untouched side. Her moans of appreciation had become whimpers. Unfortunately for her, she was unaware of even her need, much less what her body demanded. All she could know was that the sensations within her had shifted from uplifting to heavy. The soft fluidity within her core hardened and began to push outward in a demand to release.
He kept a tight grip on her while his hand wandered discreetly down. This time, she had some inkling what was coming and let her body be goaded. Her groin began to twitch forward and back, desperate for the fingers that added a delicious pressure when they sank into her pliable flesh to slip beneath the edge of her dangling costume.
Soft fuzz greeted his hands. Experience told him she kept herself neatly trimmed and he found himself a little disappointed. Most of his girls shaved little shapes into their hair as very nearly trademarks. Sparrow was so young, so inexperienced, he had almost hoped she would be clean-shaven as befit her purity. He would probably mold her to the fashion he preferred.
Sparrow's breath quickened as his hand quested farther. He pressed his palm heavily against her pelvis while his fingers pushed deeper. Her body shook with anticipation as a single finger began to push through the hot folds of her flesh. He let loose a grunt of appreciation upon discovering his finger drowned by her readiness.
The first brush of her hidden nub sent Sparrow into convulsions. She giggled and sputtered as he traced slow circles. Tremors overtook her upraised arms until she threw them forward, her palms pressed against the cool glass, in an attempt to keep from tearing her own clothes apart determined to find her tormentor and stop the unbearable bliss that exploded out from her core.
Cupid leaned forward. Unable to support her own weight, she shifted with him until her body pressed against the glass wall. Her weight trapped his hand and added pressure. He pressed harder with each circle until his finger bore around the base of her tender clit. Her giggles turned to barks and gained strength. When she began to scream, he was glad he accepted the extra expense for the soundproof glass.
The look CallyAnne gave him was positively feral. Cupid almost wished he had a camera set up somewhere where he could view the effect from outside. He would have loved to have seen her perfect breasts crushed against the glass or the way her face contorted in pleasure while turned to one side and pressed flat. Most of all, he loved to see his women twitch and jerk with every slight shift of his fingers. The risk that such visuals, along with everything else that transpired in his office, fell into the wrong hands had always kept him from setting up such a device, however.
Sparrow's screams began to fade. Cupid stopped his fingers but slid his hand more fully between her legs. The way he cupped her lust helped to calm her while still preventing her from accidentally instigating fresh torment by rubbing against her tight costume. It also sent a subconscious message, to the inexperienced woman, of possession. By not resisting his casual grip, she programmed her own mind to accept it freely.
"Come." Cupid urged as he gently peeled her away from the glass. It was one thing to put her on display in the throws of masturbatory passion but another entirely to potentially expose himself to the view of the audience below. There was always the possibility that her handler would arrive at an inopportune moment and he would rather not that particular scrutiny.
Sparrow staggered around under his guidance and support. It was a little awkward, with one hand held between her legs to protect her from her own sensitivity and the other wrapped around her chest, but her expression was more than worth it. Half-lidded eyes and a delirious smile helped to cover the awkwardness.
The young woman had likely discovered self-pleasure in the years since she reached puberty. Cupid doubted, however, that she had ever worked herself into a state even close to the one she was currently in. He knew what the effect would be when he removed his protective hand from between her legs. Even minutes after the height of her orgasm had passed, he could still feel slight tremors wrack her body.
Poly-fiber-titanium closed in behind Cupid's retreating hand. A shiver began with her hips and radiated down her legs and up her torso when the fabric slid between her tender folds. Her head shot back when the seam of her costume hit the enflamed bud. The pressure his hand placed on the waistline, as he pulled free, caused the outfit to ride up and press cruelly against all of her overly-sensitive flesh.
Sparrow collapsed onto the couch whimpering in a mini-orgasm. Cupid guided her just enough to prevent her from missing the target furniture but otherwise allowed her to experience her helplessness.
"Should I help you remove these?" Cupid asked as innocently as he could manage.
"Please!" She squeaked.
Cupid knelt in front of the exhausted woman. His whole body thrummed with excitement. He could never have handled the full compliment of plans he had anticipated for the evening. He could barely control himself now enough to remove her outfit completely and gently. Every part of him insisted that he flip her over and slam himself into her over and over until the cushions smothered her face and muted her screams.
Plenty of time for that in the future.
It took a little work to peel the stiff material off of her without causing too many aftershocks. Cupid didn't worry about the sticky mess that practically poured from between her legs without the tight outfit to hold it in. There would be plenty more by the time they were done. Besides, he expected a fair portion of it to be smeared across her back and the shower in his private bathroom would take care of that.
She wore no underwear. Cupid had felt that when he first slipped his hand beneath the fabric. Given the skin-tight nature of the outfit, even a thong would leave an impression for all to see. Besides, the material could offer more support than the best designed underwear ever produced.
Even knowing the truth did nothing to prepare him for the sight of her completely bare and half-sprawled on the couch before him. The tight costume left nothing to the imagination. And yet, somehow, even his deepest fantasies of this moment proved no more than a flicker compared to her brilliance.
Cupid's pulse raced. His fingers fumbled with his slacks, desperate to be divested of any clothes that prevented what was now inevitable. She moaned in response, too overwhelmed by the pleasure so far to form a more coherent reply. Her body echoed his burning need but lacked the strength to aid or deny him.
Finally, Cupid managed to work his pants open, despite the engorged obstruction. He unceremoniously kicked off his shoes when he realized they kept him from removing his clothing fully. He caught one of her legs as he climbed onto the couch and shifted her body to lay along the length. He hooked her heel on the back of the couch to spread her wide before him.
Cupid forced himself to drink in the sight. For more than a year he had dreamed of this moment. His plans had been slow to culminate but her mocha skin, and the dark triangle of fuzz that pointed directly at the glistening red heat that beckoned to him, made it more than worthwhile.
Even though she clearly lacked any strength, and her foot remained firmly hooked on the top edge of the couch, Cupid shifted his leg up until his thigh nestled behind her knee. With his body planted on the couch, her legs were now trapped open. One arm draped off the edge of the couch while the other trailed up to fold beneath her lolling head. If anyone saw her like this they would likely demand a test for drugs. The knowledge that he had brought that about simply through pleasure was as almost intoxicating as her bare and willing flesh.
Sparrow felt the change in atmosphere, likely through the added weight on the couch, and rolled her head weakly to stare down her own body at him. Dim eyes widened slightly at the sight of his naked lower half. A flicker of fear passed across her face but could not hold beneath the weight of knowledge he had already born upon her. After the moment passed, she bit her lower lip and her breath shortened in nervous anticipation.
Cupid leaned forward. His face dipped toward her chest. His mouth closed around one firm nipple and her breath hitched. His teeth cemented its placement and her voice began a wordless tone, as if her body literally hummed with the tension that rapidly built within her once more. The first flick of his tongue sent her head back into the cushion and her back arching. Her body thrust her breast towards him; eager for everything he could give her.
As much as he wanted to, he didn't plunge right in. Cupid knew he would need to soon, or else he would spill himself over her dark skin. Given her revelations, however, he needed her a bit more ready, if he wanted her to leave with nothing but the best memories. So his solid length found her folds but used them as a guide to rub across her clit.
She was so wet he barely felt her flesh as it parted smoothly beneath him. His hips beat against hers, familiarizing her with the sensation before she took the full measure of him. Her arched back quickly began to buck as her screams started anew.
That was what he needed.
In one fluid motion Cupid slid back and plunged inside her. Her muscles could not hold him, as well lubricated as she had become. A brief pressure blocked his path but proved an obstacle, not a barrier. Sparrow let out a yelp as he broke through but quickly lost the pain beneath the layers of pleasure he had built within her in stages.
It was glorious! Everything Cupid had imagined and more. He began to pump his hips, thrusting himself hard and fast in and out of her. Despite the evidence of her lust, likely mixed with blood from her broken flesh, she clung tightly to him. He filled every inch of her and pushed back against those tender walls. His tip brushed against the rear edge of her with every pounding attack.
Sparrow's nipple pulled from the light grip of Cupid's teeth as she began to buck and writhe. The grin that split his face spoke of feral triumph. His legs penned her in place for his rough thrusts. One hand pressed against her shoulder, pinned her down, while his other held her bent elbow against the back of the soft couch to open her upper body to him as fully as her lower was.
Cupid allowed his power full release and lust, desire, and need filled her overflowing senses and splashed over onto him. Fire burned through his nerves and lent his muscles greater urgency and strength. His hips crashed against hers; pounding him as deeply as his body could manage. His groin filled to unbearable pressure. Electricity ran beneath his very skin.
One last time, he threw his body forward. Cupid wasn't so much buried within her as entrapped by her. On the very edge of his own climax, he swelled to the very limits of his skin and stretched her well beyond their ability to smoothly glide across each other, regardless of the lubrication she produced.
Sparrow's barked screams, now shading to horse, held more than a hint of pain once more. Cupid was beyond caring. The furnace, the supernova star, that was her lust radiated its heat directly into him to ignite the volcano within him. All of the built up heat and pressure raced out of him and exploded inside her.
Instinct forced his hips to begin thrusting once more, despite his predicament. Flesh ground against flesh, unable to pull away. Cupid groaned and sighed, euphoric over the depths that he poured his essence into; untouched territory. He marked her, not only claimed by right of primacy but through psychology. She had submitted to him and would thank him for despoiling her and beg for anything he chose to do to her.
Cupid collapsed on top of her. It didn't matter that he weighed nearly twice as much as the young heroine or that his leg accidentally pushed hers nearly to the limit of articulation. She was a fire beneath him and a solid mass on which he could recover. As maddening as he had found the need to delay his own gratification, to draw her more fully under his control, it had been worth it. Even if he never again fucked her, that had been one of the most pristine orgasms he had ever experienced.
Even as Cupid began to get his breath back under control, he began to soften. Without the unrelenting pressure that had filled him, he could once more slide free of her. Now that he was a bit more in control of himself, he pushed off of her more gently to collapse against the opposite corner of the couch.
"How do you feel?" Cupid asked with a self-satisfied smirk. He doubted she could even form a thought, much less answer him. He was right. She mumbled something unintelligible. She had yet to move despite the opal essence that began to pour out of her and seep between those perfect cheeks.
"Ah. In that case, I shall take the first shift in the shower." Cupid continued. "You are, of course, free to join me. If you can find the energy and courage for much more of the same."
Truthfully, Cupid wasn't certain he had it in him for another round so soon after such an Earth-shattering finish. He could, of course, always use his power to revive himself, if she did manage to join him. He suspected that she would remain immobile on his couch well into the evening, however.
As for her courage, it didn't much matter. He knew from experience how addictive sequential multiple orgasms could be. Even the most repressed personality would eventually fight to find a reason not to return, rather than the other way around.
Besides, as helpless as she was now, he might even offer her to one of the more versatile dancers. There were one or two who enjoyed women, even one still spoiled by the remnants of a male lover. Cupid smiled to himself and nodded in confirmation. That would work well, especially since those dancers proved very grateful for the opportunity. Later, he knew, his seed would coat front and back of another woman.
Not a bad reward for a night's work. Cupid thought as he glanced out the window on his way to the shower.
Copyright January 2014, by Deathlynx