Uh, Lisette?"
Lisette Dubois looked around from her computer screen. She was more conservatively dressed than most of her fellow office workers; her sheer black underwear almost concealed her nipples, and the stockings were real silk. The heels of her shoes were only of a modest height. Her beret sat on her desk beside her.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Someone to see you," Helen told her, gesturing at the window, trying hard to be casual. She was going with a body-paint look today, with an entire suit and tie painted onto her body. It needed renewing around her crotch area, but then, it was after lunch. She'd probably had sex three times since she'd gotten to work.
"Thanks," Lisette told her. "Shut down for me?" She rose from her chair and picked up her beret. Fitting it carefully on top of her pixie cut, she strolled over to the window, where the glowing golden man hovered in midair.
Her eyes were irresistibly drawn to the huge erection that jutted from his loins. It was more than just 'large'; it was proportionately larger than a normal man's would be. She felt herself grow wet. _Oh my. He really **has** been missing me._
Everyone was staring now, as Lisette reached the window. It was not designed to open, and it didn't; the single large pane of glass simply ... vanished. Lisette half turned her head, giving her bottom a naughty little wiggle. "Don't wait up for me," she told them, and stepped out through the window, into Scion's arms.
She had lost count of the number of times that she had done this, simply trusting her well-being to Scion's willingness to catch her, his continuing need for her. He had caught her, every time. She had to believe that he would continue to catch her.
His arms folded warmly around her, and she was being carried bridal-style. The glass reappeared behind her, and then they were moving, faster than sound. But only a mild breeze ruffled her hair, and her beret was not disturbed at all.
She had once left the beret off, deciding that it lent an inappropriately whimsical air to their ... romance? Relationship? He had retrieved it, reaching through a portal, and placed it on her head. She got it. _I wear the beret._
She put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down toward hers; he let her do this, of course. If he did not want to move his head, then it would be more immovable than Mount Everest. As his face lowered to hers, she kissed him. He kissed her back, his lips and tongue and teeth moving carefully. His lips were warm and soft against hers; she felt the familiar thrill of arousal.
_Tonight, I make love with a god._
<><>
For the longest time, Scion had been cold and unfeeling, almost depressed. But then he had encountered a drunk Lisette, nearly thirty years ago, wandering home from a party, the beret perched whimsically atop her hairstyle, the pixie cut which she still maintained.
She had seen him, hovering naked, a few feet off the ground, and she had giggled at him, then laughed out loud. He had looked at her, his expression never changing, but she got a hint of puzzlement. This made her laugh even more. Staggering up to him, she had literally climbed up him until she was clinging around his neck with her arms. Then she had planted a wet and sloppy kiss on his firm, set lips.
His air of puzzlement grew, as he lowered his body to the ground. She had kissed him again, then had pulled her top up and rubbed her breasts against his chest. She had already had unprotected sex with three people at the party, and she figured there was a good chance she was pregnant, so she may as well do something _else_ wild and stupid.
"You're supposed to be soft and warm, not hard and stuff," she had chided him, and had kissed him a third time. "Like me."
The next time she kissed him, his lips were soft. The time after, they were warm. And then he was learning to kiss her back.
When his arms went around her for the first time, she was momentarily terrified. But he only held her close, as she was holding him, and kissing her.
"'At's pretty good," she congratulated him, with her already-smeared lipstick now partially smeared on his face. "But there's more to lovin' than kissin'." She pushed at his chest. "That's still like gold rock. You need to be softer."
His skin softened, and she rubbed her breasts over his chest again. This time, it felt more like normal skin, like someone she'd like to cuddle up to. She smiled and kissed him again; he responded, placing one hand under her jaw. His fingers were warm and soft; she felt a thrill of arousal.
<><>
She kissed Scion again, looking around to see where they were going. Already, they were in the stratosphere, and looping down toward ... "Is that Paris?"
He nodded once, silently. She smiled and leaned against his warm, soft-but-firm chest. She did so love going back to Paris.
They came in for a screaming re-entry over the Eiffel tower, then looped around, swooping through the Arc de Triomphe; Lisette snorted. "Showoff," she told him fondly, and kissed him again. Unbidden, her hand stole down and grasped his length; it throbbed under her hand. "Oh my, you _have_ been missing me, haven't you?" she purred.
<><>
"Well, you're learning," Lisette told him. "But there's more than kissing, and being warm and soft. Some parts of you need to be hot an' hard." She slid to her knees before him, and began to lick and caress the flaccid penis that dangled before him. Before she had spoken to him, the genitalia had been of a piece with the rest of him, but now it dangled free. She took him into her mouth and began to suck on him.
Perhaps he had to take a moment to recall how normal people reacted in this instance; whatever he did, he was soon swelling and enlarging within her mouth. She kept sucking and licking it. "It's gotta be sensitive," she told him. "Fairly sensitive around here, an' real sensitive up around the head. Can you make it sensitive?"
His expression did not change as she began to suck on him again, but his body twitched toward her. She giggled, with a mouthful of penis, then sucked harder. He swayed toward her again. She cupped his testicles, feeling the balls within the scrotum, and licked that as well.
"Come on down here," she invited him; obediently, he knelt. She kissed him; he was getting quite good at kissing her back. And for the first time, his expression was no longer blank, or even depressed. He was ... interested.
"Now," she told him, "I need to show you how to make a woman feel good ..."
<><>
The restaurant was so highly regarded that the pundits of Paris had awarded it an extra, sixth, star. There was a permanent twelve-month waiting list, and it was not possible under any circumstance to reserve a table with less than three weeks' lead time.
There was a table reserved for them.
They sat on the balcony over the Seine, and a waiter (dressed in the old fashioned 'fully clothed' style) obsequiously poured wine into both rosebud crystal glasses. She sipped it; it set her tastebuds on fire, and sent pleasure throughout her body. She very nearly had an orgasm on the spot. She suspected that the wine did not taste like that at all, that Scion had manipulated its effect on her. She did not complain.
The food was served, again, to both of them. She chattered brightly as she ate; he sat, watching her, a faint smile upon his face. The food was beyond sublime; she suspected, again, that Scion had done something to it with his powers. Or perhaps the restaurant was just that good. By dessert, her panties were sodden.
The waiters pulled their chairs back and they stood; there was no thought of asking for a check. The restaurant's reputation would be utterly made by this one night. The waiting list might be pushed back to another year.
Scion gathered her into his arms and flew upward, up into the night sky.
"That was a wonderful dinner," she murmured, kissing him once more. "Thank you. Where are we going now?"
_To bed, soon,_ she hoped. She wanted him so very, very badly.
But they flew upward, ever upward. She gasped as she realised that they had to be leaving the Earth's atmosphere. But the air was still warm, fresh, scented slightly with fragrant candle smoke. He was carrying a bubble of it with them, she realised. _Just for me._
Eventually, with the Earth a distinct ball far below, he pulled to a halt, at least as far as she could tell. She looked at him quizzically, around at the stars that surrounded them. "And what is here?"
He let her go; she floated to an upright position before him. With his right hand, he waved; she looked that way, just as the sun peeped up over the horizon of the distant Earth. A more spectacular sunrise she could never see.
"Oh my," she breathed. "Oh, my, that is so beautiful."
And then he waved his left hand; she looked that way. And so big, so close that she thought she might reach out and touch it, was the biggest, roundest, most beautiful full moon that she had ever seen. Her eyes went wide, and she looked at him with a melting expression. He pulled her close and kissed her; she responded avidly. His lips, warm and soft, burned on hers. She closed her eyes, enjoying the kiss.
The return of gravity startled her; she opened her eyes to see that they were standing in her own modest apartment. In the bedroom, to be exact. She smiled. "Now, _mon cheri_ , the main course, no?" she murmured. Dropping to her knees, she caressed his engorged shaft, and began to suck on it.
<><>
Lisette lay back on the river bank, gasping. Scion had learned very quickly indeed; he was still working at her, driving her wilder with every touch, every caress.
"No more," she groaned. "Now, come here and love me."
He looked up; floating into the air, he moved forward and drifted down over her. "That," she instructed him, "goes in there. Don't break me, I'm fragile. You move it in and out - oh!"
Her eyes widening, she felt him sliding into her, enlarging still farther to fill her utterly. And then he began to thrust into her ...
<><>
As she sucked and licked at his erection, it subtly reduced in size to less ridiculous proportions; this one, at least, she was able to get properly into her mouth and partially into her throat. He made small noises in his throat; for him, this was the height of wild abandon. She sucked steadily upon him, until he firmly removed her mouth from his penis, and lifted her on to the bed. Her underwear vanished, as though it had never been; however, her beret remained.
As he had on that first day, he then began to go down on her. She grasped the bed-rail, arching her back and thrusting her streaming vaginal opening toward his plundering mouth. "Oh god, oh yes, oh do it to me, please yes," she begged. She had no idea how he did it so very well, but she felt that her brain was fusing into one solid lump from the sheer, blinding pleasure.
And then, one long orgasm later, she felt him stop. _Now,_ she thought. _Now it happens._
He climbed up over on top of her. She kissed him; he caressed her breasts. She enjoyed it when he played with her nipples, and so he made sure to do so each time they did this. But then, she felt him pressing at her soft, wet, willing opening. She opened her legs a touch more, kissed him, and whispered, "Now. Please - now."
And he entered her.
<><>
Lisette clung to him as he thrust into her, over and over again. She felt that he had been screwing her on the riverbank for hours; in point of fact, it had been three-quarters of an hour, without pause. However, she was not protesting. Every thrust struck to her very centre, and sent waves of pleasure throughout her body.
An hour passed; he kept fucking her. She suggested a different position; they changed, and he kept going. And going. And going.
And she noticed something; long past the point when she should have been feeling pain, exhaustion, even a cessation of the pleasure, none of this happened. He kept plunging into her, and she kept enjoying it.
"Oh yes!" she gasped. "Yes! Keep doing it! Oh god, yes, do it to me!"
<><>
Even reduced, his erection was really too large for her. But he did something with his powers, and she felt him slide inside her, sparking every nerve ending that she had, and a few she hadn't known existed. He began to thrust powerfully, his hips slapping against her; she met every thrust joyfully, feeling him plunge to the very hilt within her body. Over and over and over again.
A couple of hours in, she diffidently suggested a shower. They made love standing up beneath the spray of water; she kissed him with abandon, her legs wrapped around his hips. After another hour like that, they changed to doggy-style; her hair miraculously dry (and wearing the beret once more), she bent over the bed while he thrust powerfully into her still-tingling pussy from behind. His hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them; she thrust back at him while his cock drove into her with what should have been bruising force.
Next, he lay back on the bed while she climbed on top; feeling none of the exhaustion that she should, she rode him hard and fast, dipping down to kiss him and let her breasts brush across his chest, before sitting up and grinding her crotch down upon his. She thought back to the first time that they had done this ...
<><>
Lisette slumped over Scion's prone body, his erection still firmly impaling her. She was starting to feel the pace, now.
"It has been hours, my dear," she gasped. "You can come inside me any time that you wish, you know."
Scion pulled her close, and kissed her; his thick penis pushed deeply into her, and ... he came.
And everything changed.
<><>
Hours later, they were still going. She had lay down beneath him once more, and they had continued to make slow, unhurried love, sharing kisses and caresses like normal lovers, rather than a god on earth and his consort. She giggled playfully, kissing him, nipping at his earlobes, wrapping her legs around his waist.
Once more, they began doggy-style once more, but she noticed a difference. His thrusting was a little more urgent, a little harder. She moaned as she felt the power of him, pushing her forward with each thrust. Looking over her shoulder, she opened her eyes a little wider. "Do you want ... the other?" she asked coquettishly.
He had been too rough, too untutored in their first few times for her to dare this, but as he learned to please her, and leave her without bruises, she had offered him one more thing.
And then she felt him pull out of her vagina, and press against her tight anal sphincter. _Oh, yes. He wants it._
"Be gentle, please," she whispered.
And he _was_ gentle; she barely felt the stretching as his oversized phallus wedged its way between her soft, tender buttocks. There was no pain, no tearing. But she felt him pushing into her, opening her up, and the pleasure began to well through her once more.
Slowly at first, but with gathering speed, he began to thrust into her ass. She moaned and braced herself, feeling the power in his thrusts already. _Oh my. We may have waited too long._
She cried out as he rammed all the way into her yielding ass, over and over again. Again, she should have been bruised, broken, crushed, by his relentless assault. But with all the power and force that he used, she found that she could take it, that she enjoyed it, that it sent her to the very heights of pleasure, and kept her there.
Face-down over the bed, hips held in an iron grip by her otherworldly lover, she felt the glowing golden cock plunge into her ass over and over again, and she came, again and again.
Somehow, on the edge of consciousness, she knew that he was close. With a huge effort, she clenched her anal muscles around his invading penis; in the next moment, he had rammed into her so hard that she was sure he had broken something. And then he started cumming inside her.
As with every other time this had happened, the explosion of his orgasm inside her dwarfed the actual preceding sex for sheer, mind-blasting pleasure. It also sent golden light streaming from her skin in every direction.
Still climaxing, he pulled from her ass and slid into her vagina; she felt the explosion once more, and knew she was on the verge of passing out.
As consciousness slipped away, she was only vaguely aware of being placed on the bed, and soft, warm lips pressing on hers.
<><>
When she awoke, hours more later, just as had happened all those years ago, Scion was gone. Left in his place was a sense of tingling well-being, and a faint golden glow that would take about a day to dissipate altogether.
She was sore, of course, in every orifice. One could not make love for twelve hours straight without some sort of penalty. But it was a _good_ kind of sore, the type one gets after a really, really good session of lovemaking.
Not that she had ever made love with anyone else, since the first time with Scion. She had tried, a couple of times, but it had turned out to be so thoroughly mundane that she'd had to give up before even attempting penetration.
Not that she was entirely normal, herself. Not any more. Not since the first time.
When she had met Scion for the first time, in 1985, she had been twenty-three. Twenty-six years later, she still had her firm figure, and she had yet to suffer a grey hair. Others wondered at her youthfulness; she thought she knew exactly what it was.
Making love with Scion had its penalties and its prizes. She suspected that she would be his consort for a good many years yet.
_I showed a god how to love,_ she mused. _And in return, he changed me forever. I suppose that is fair._
<><>
Many miles away, Scion accelerated through the stratosphere. There was a bushfire in Angola, and after that, an impending bank robbery in Des Moines. A smile curved his mouth; he had purpose these days. Doing this kept Lisette happy. And Lisette kept him happy.
And that worked for him.