Dating Esther

Esther had a shockingly modern motorcycle. I don't know what I had quite expected, but it wasn't this. It was a sleek design, its body being smooth and a lovely shade of red, and even having what looked like one of those nicer computer dashboards you see in some really expensive cars, up front between the handlebars. "It's a Tsunetomo Zero XR," she told me, clearly proud of the brand that meant less than nothing to me. "Electric, modern, sleek. Just got it a couple months ago."

"Ah, so you wanted to show it off to me," I told her, smiling at the little click of the relevant information. "It does look pretty nice," I agreed. I wasn't a bike guy, but I could appreciate the basic aesthetics of it.

I was more interested in the aesthetics of Esther's body, though. She was wearing a motorcycle jacket, and underneath it, what looked like a plain black t-shirt, which gave me a much better view of her body. Sleek, well-shaped, with a full bust, she was short but stacked. Her black jeans closely clung to her body, showing off her legs and ass, making it pretty clear to me that this was a woman who worked out. Some tiny part of me provided the question of if she would notice my erection, but I had to conclude the answer was "100% yes."

She tossed a helmet my way, and I caught it quickly. "These ones are actually pretty nifty, good for dates," she said, as she put her own one on. "It's got short-range radio so we can actually hear each other over the roar of the road. You turn it off and on with the buttons in the corner," she said, poking at it. "I love bike rides, but bit of a shame not to get to talk to the other person, you know?"

"Makes sense to me," I said, as I got the helmet on and fiddled with the controls for a second or two before it set to work. In that time, she'd hopped on her bike.

"Come on," she said, patting the back of her bike's seat, and I could hear her voice, a little tinny, in my ears. I got on the bike behind her, and there was a brief moment of silence, not so long as to be awkward but long enough for me to notice it. If she had any commentary on the erection that had gotten wedged against her butt, she didn't offer it. "Gotta wrap your arms around my belly, sorry, hon," she said, with a playful note to her voice, and I quickly did so.

We took off, then, the bike starting off at a nice, slow, reasonable speed as it made its meandering way through the city's roads. There was the occasional odd turn that made me tighten up against her, but nothing really exceptional or that got too close to an actual collision. After the first couple, I started to get the impression she may have been doing it on purpose, particularly given her, "Okay back there?"s and her "Don't worry, I got you."

After all, a guy in this situation would obviously be ecstatic when the girl behind him clenched that little bit tighter up to him. I couldn't really think of something analogous to the hard-on that pressed into Esther's back, but it was probably a pretty safe bet that it would be interpreted well. Thus, it would only be natural to turn just that little bit closer to the road than was strictly necessary, to ensure that the girl would press herself up against you.

Now, actually, I wasn't in nearly as much danger as it may have felt like. My superspeed did kick in in crisis situations, like an adrenaline boost, and I could run faster than a car when it was in full swing, so if she lost control around, I could just slow down time, hop off the bike, and keep pace for a bit until I'd burned off the excess momentum and could come to a stop. She, similarly, was an immortal regenerator.

Unfortunately, the human brain is not designed to rationally reconsider its primordial fears simply on the basis of logic. I'm sure that, with enough opportunities to see the cold asphalt beginning to sweep towards me on a sharp turn, I would have become completely inundated to it. Certainly, it appeared that Esther had managed a similar conquest. However, I did not have enough opportunities, so I clung ever closer to the woman in front of me - even intensified my clinging beyond what was natural, squeezing my body up against hers, my hands winding up sliding up on her jacket to cup her breasts in the hope that it would drive her to conclude she had been plenty thorough in her adrenaline-inducing deeds.

It did seem to work, in fact. As I clung to her back, her driving slowed down and her turns became wider and lazier. Perhaps it was genuine concern for how frightened I'd been from her normal biking style, or maybe it was because she had gotten what she wanted. I didn't know, and in either case, the solution would be the same: keep that position.

Once we left the city, her speed increased a few notches, as we made our way across winding roads through the forest, the wind whipping past us. "Beautiful view, right?" She asked, and I spared a glance to the side. I'd never been much of one to enjoy nature, but from the way she spoke, she thought it was the most gorgeous thing in the world.

"It's nice," I agreed. It wasn't anything I'd have come out here for, but now that we weren't squealing past trucks every three seconds, I was much more able to appreciate the fact that my hands were on her breasts, my cock halfway buried into the crook of her ass, so I focused on that instead. She went on for a bit about the trees, the wildlife, occasionally slowing down to show me some rock which looked about the same as any other to my eyes, but the energy with which she spoke was almost infectious.

Plus, again, I was grabbing her tits the whole time.

Eventually, she made a comment that at first seemed little different from the rest. "That's national parkland there," she said, pointing a ways ahead, towards some particular patch of forest that didn't look much different from the rest. "There's some nice trails. We could stop there and take a hike?"

"Sure," I said. "Sounds like it could be fun." Though part of me was thinking that it would be unfortunate not to be able to flagrantly grope her breasts like this, another part pointed out that, first of all, she liked it, that was why she was letting me do it; and secondly, in order to have actual sex, we would have to stop this motorcycle ride. I have never been so horny as to do the surely traffic accident-inducing act of fucking while driving, or getting sucked off while driving, or any of that suicidally dumb crap. I can't even enjoy it in pornography, since it's so stupid.

She pulled us over, and once we were off the bike - my hands finally leaving their place on her shapely breasts - she hit a latch on the bike's seat, and it popped open, revealing a duffel bag in a rather cramped compartment, which she popped out and slung over her shoulder. "I'm always ready for a hike, or a camp," she told me with a grin as she saw me looking.

Again, I was put in the circumstances where she was happily describing flowers and birds, and I was only paying attention for the simple fact that she was so happy to talk about it. Some of it was interesting, like when we saw army ants that had gotten trapped in a 'death circle,' which apparently is caused when the army ants at the front lay pheromones to tell the other army ants to follow them, then wind up following someone else's pheromone trail - and that someone else was behind them. Most of it, though, was 'look at the pretty bird' or 'look at the pretty flower'. There was more explanations than that, and I paid attention in the moment, but I have to admit very few of them have stuck with me. While I could appreciate their beauty and various interesting qualities, I could even more appreciate it if I was at home, in an air conditioned room, looking at it on a computer screen.

I didn't tell her as much, though. It felt like it would be too mean, since she was putting so much effort into sharing something she cared about with me. That caring was a tad infectious, even, so it wasn't like I hated it.

Eventually, we made our way to a small picnic area, where we were the only people present. She opened up the duffel bag and presented to me... a little "make your own pizza" thing, the sort that in my own world I would have associated with a children's meal. The only reason I didn't here was the substantially larger portions than the ones I remembered.

I wasn't complaining, though. These things were delicious, in either world, so I unsealed it and set to work. She had her own and did much the same, giving me the occasional sly glance out of the corner of her eye as she peppered cheese over marinara sauce on the small pizza disc. "These are good, huh? I mean, if you wanted to take the time, I could hunt us down something and cook it - I keep some spices in the bag - but for a nice, lazy hike, they're the best meal ready to eat I've ever found."

While it was... pretty badass that she could just hunt and cook a meal, and I'd keep it in mind if we ever found ourselves in a post-apocalypse scenario, I have to admit I probably preferred the pepperoni-laden tiny pizzas. "They're great," I agreed. "We had something similar back in my world, but you couldn't get them in adult size. I missed them, honestly," I admitted.

She smiled at that, shifting herself to sit just a bit closer to me so our thighs pressed against one another. "I'm glad to hear it," she said, her hand coming to rest on my thigh. It was a subtle movement. "And, hey, I'm a good cook, not like the girls nowaday, who have forgotten all about that. Could make you some pizza at my place, if you wanted to come over."

As we ate, her hand slid slightly, subtly, up my thigh, just the minutest amount. Every time she shifted to take another bite, it would move just a hair's breadth northward, towards my groin. Its ever-present approach provided me all the fodder I needed to get hard, and soon enough, her hand found my hard-on. Her expression shifted to be inquisitive. "You this hard for me?"

I nodded. What would be the point of lying? We were done eating by that point anyway.

"I can take care of it for you," she said, her hand gently rising, just subtly coming to rest on my cock, like she was ready to pull away if I complained.

I didn't. "That would be very nice of you," I said to her, and she grinned at that, her fingers squeezing at my dick in my pants, making me let out a small groan. She slipped her hand into my pants, and started to stroke me gently, staring into my eyes all the while.

It felt great. She definitely had lots of experience, by the way her fingers moved up and down my length, applying pressure right to the very tip, teasing my slit that way, then pressing against the crown, the ridge. Her smile remained perpetual as she worked me over like that. "I don't want to cream my pants," I said, realizing that if I didn't, that was exactly what I would wind up doing.

She didn't hesitate for a second, unzipping my pants and popping the button in a quick movement; once my cock was out, one hand came to rest in front of my dick, as if to prevent me from spilling my seed all over the ground beneath us. My breathing was erratic enough by this point, all her rapid jerks and carefully selected pressuring serving to get me extra hard. My cock twitched, and then, I exploded, firing out spurt after spurt of cum all over her hand and the ground beneath us, streamers firing out as she just grinned at the show, watching my face the whole time.

"You liked it, right?" She asked, when I was finished coming. She pulled her cum-soaked hand away, licking it up, staring me in the eye. "You taste good," she told me, her expression warm and more than a little smug.

I just sat there, catching my breath from the intense orgasm. When I finally recovered enough to speak, I did so. "It was a really good handjob," I told her, and her smile grew broader at that.

"I'm glad to hear it," she said, reaching for my cock, starting to tuck it back into my underwear, and that made me jerk in surprise. "Something wrong?" She asked, sounding suddenly worried. "Didn't mean to push you."

I realized then that there had been a miscommunication. As she'd already noted to me, people back in her day were rather more sexually conservative than those of this era. As such, she probably figured that a first date handjob was a pretty frisky maneuver to go for, and that pushing her luck would just be uncouth. Even back in my world, jumping to fingering on the first date would be a big move - and her sexual sensibilities were set back in the early 19th century. "No, just the opposite," I said, and her brow briefly furrowed in confusion. "I'm not going to be satisfied with just a handjob," I told her, taking hold of her wrist and pulling it away from my cock.

She blinked a couple times - then she grinned wickedly, shifting around to get down in between my legs beneath the picnic table. I had honestly been imagining a fuck at this point, not a blowjob - but like hell I was going to complain about a free blowjob. She wrapped her lips around the tip of my cock, flicking at the slit with her tongue as she stared up at me with her golden eye. Her hand stroked my length anew as she stared hungrily up at me, as if daring me to come right in her mouth, right away.

At this point, I actually would have done it. By that point, I had mostly successfully internalized the idea that really, genuinely, truly - women liked quickshots in this world. It wasn't like I had a tough time getting it up again (something to do with my altered metabolism?) so I sure wouldn't have complained about coming in her mouth right then.

But, in reality, I had just come, and wasn't actually able to do so, no matter how those cheeks of hers hollowed, no matter what hungry look her golden eye shot me. No matter how fast her hand pumped up and down my length, no matter how much her tongue swiveled hungrily around my tip, I was going to need more than that little bit to come. She seemed to realize as much, and began to slide her way down my length, slowly but surely letting her throat bulge to accommodate my girth, making me let out a soft groan as she descended. Her tongue sashayed back and forth on the underside of my cock, and my toes curled as she finally mashed her nose up into my pubes.

Of course, a woman who had been at this for the better part of two centuries knows plenty of techniques beyond Kate's own fumbling. She swallowed around my cock, the movements of her throat serving to massage it wonderfully, making me throb and twitch, my hips absently bucking against her face. Her fingers slid along my ass cheeks, making their way towards my rear end, and I just quietly shook my head in response to the silent question.

If it was possible to pout with a cock in your mouth and one functional eye, that's exactly what Esther did then. She instead slurped wetly around my cock, her fingers sliding around to cup and toy with my balls, staring directly up at me all the while, as she just choked herself there. She even offered hums around my dick, vibrating it in her throat in an intense and exquisite fashion, my fingers clenching on the bench beneath me as she slurped. Every inch of my cock, it felt like, was getting a thorough working-over, her eyelashes fluttering as she stared lewdly up at me.

"Fuck, you're really good at this," I breathed out, and she smiled with her eyes and slid slowly off my cock. It wasn't a swift motion, but one that really took its time, her using suction to play with my dick as she moved upwards on it. My hips faintly bucked at her face, my fingers clenching into fists as she finally slid the last inch or so off my cock and removing herself with a wet pop.

Her fingers came up to stroke my thoroughly-lubricated cock, a twinkle in her eye as she looked up at me. "Sorry I couldn't make you come on the first go," she said, sounding genuinely apologetic. I guessed she normally managed that, which was a rather sexy thought, now. That this was a woman who wanted you to come the first time she took your dick into her mouth, to not even bother drawing it out, to not keep yourself ready to fuck her.

Part of me wondered if, even now, she thought that sex was off the table. The rest of me was distracted by her slurping my dick back into her throat again, making my whole length vanish into that desperately hard-working hole, her lips suckling hungrily around me, serving to massage the base of my dick. It was an intense set of sensations, and my hand went to the back of her head, fingers clamping down. I could see the grin in her eyes at that, the challenging note that dared me to just keep her firmly in place - so that's exactly what I did. I clamped my thighs on either side of her face, ground her into my pelvis, and enjoyed the feeling of her literally choking on my cock.

I wasn't worried about her health. She was immortal, and she was also not fighting me at all, just smiling up at me as her eyes lidded while she got choked out on my cock. When I saw her eyelashes flutter closed, drool dribbling out over her lower lip as she passed out from asphyxiation - I came right down her pliant throat. Hot cum sprayed out in what felt like ever-gushing waves. It was only once I was completely spent that I peeled her off.

The moment my cock was free of her throat, she gasped hungrily for air, not really afraid but just needing it. She smiled up at me as she saw that I was done, a lewd look in her eye. "I do it best, don't I?" She asked, with a little wink. Or maybe it was just a blink - hard to tell, with only one eye.

I grabbed her under the shoulders, hefting her up into my lap, leaving my cock to brush against her thighs, and then - for the first time - I became intensely frustrated that a woman was wearing really tight jeans that showed off her legs and ass. "I want to fuck you," I said, and her eye widened again in surprise, but she certainly wasn't going to complain. She hopped off my lap, going into her duffel bag for a towel - how much crap did she have in there? - and laying it out on the ground before just stripping herself naked, folding up her clothes and putting them down on the table. I decided to join her in the task, enjoying eyeing up her sleek, curvy body, the full breasts, the round ass, the tone - and the height. She was short enough I'd have to lean down a bit to perch my chin on her head.

"You want to be on top, or me?" She asked, when her naked body was fully exposed. I was pleasantly surprised to see that she shaved down there, leaving smooth, bare skin around her pink sex. "I'm good either way."

I had to physically slow down time to think it through, eventually deciding that Esther was way, way more sexually experienced than me, and that letting her take the active role would mean the sex would be even better. "You on top," I told her, and she grinned at that, grabbing my upper arms and guiding me down to the towel beneath us, shifting to tease her sex at my cock.

"Don't worry, I know just how to fuck you until your brains spew out of your cock," she said, the confident brag soon accompanied by a downward movement of her hips. It was a slow thing, taking my cock inside her inch by inch, but don't confuse that for teasing: she was constantly clenching and unclenching her cunt around my cock, an intense sensation running through my length as it felt like every inch of my dick was attended to in turn. Her juices drooled slowly down my length, and my hands reached up for her breasts, gently groping and squeezing them.

They were surprisingly firm, despite her size - I guess she was probably pretty muscular, and thus there wasn't a whole lot of excess fat in her breasts. My fingers freely dug into the flesh there, making her quirk an eyebrow at the rough treatment, but not complain. "Like tits, huh?" She teased. "I got a bigger pair than Priscilla, I'll bet," she said, with a little cocksure grin.

I mentally did some calculations over whether or not it would be acceptable to tease or insult Priscilla while with Esther, or vice versa. They were very hard calculations to make, given that Esther by that point had taken my whole dick inside her, and was frantically groping and squeezing my cock in her sex. I shivered at the intensity of the feeling, and my fingers dug that little bit more roughly into Esther's tits, my hips trying to buck up against her, but with her position, practically pinning me to the ground, not much happened.

It didn't change how good it felt. She actually started to gently twist her hips around, sending my cock in a tiny corkscrew motion inside her, one that felt unbelievably good, like my whole cock was getting jerked off by an enthusiastic lover who was really playing around with it. Her tongue pushed against her cheek as she stared down at me, her hands clasping onto my wrists more for balance than to give me any direction on how best to grope her gorgeous tits - then she started to bounce.

Imagine a tight pussy, attached to a fit girl, who has centuries of experience, and now she's pounding on your cock. It was unbelievably good, almost mind-meltingly so, my hips bucking up into her, my hot pants filling the air as she worked me over. She just grinned at the show, the slight show of heat to her cheeks the only thing to really show that she was enjoying this on a physical level too, that she was getting off on the feeling of my cock inside her. I let one hand trail down from her breast to find her clit, doing my best to simulate the little nub, and she grinned vividly at that.

"You want to make me feel good too, huh?" She panted out, licking her lips as she leered down at me. "Let me get at that chest of yours, then," she told me. I pulled my hand away from her breast, letting her lean forward. Somehow, she managed to angle her body so that the twisting up of my cock inside her was mind-numbingly good, her tight pussy clamping down on it as her tongue began to press against my bare chest, slithering along my pecs. Her hands moved, then, to grope me there: to feel up my abs, my pecs, as her tongue made its long and loving way across my bare skin. Her eye stared up at me, challenging me to dare complain.

I sure as fuck wasn't going to do that. The way she just delighted in every last inch of my bare body, starting to even kiss along my bare flesh, was a huge turn-on, and had my hips bucking up against her cunt again, while my fingers desperately tried their best to make sure she came before me.

Somehow, by the barest of margins, as she licked hungrily all around my bare flesh - I managed to pull it off. She let out a soft moan into my chest, and her cunt went absolutely wild on my dick, gripping and squeezing every last inch and soon milking out a truly intense orgasm on my part, my hips bucking as I shot load after load into her. When we both finished coming, she panted against me, resting her naked body against mine.

I didn't stop her.

* * *

An hour or so later, our sweaty bodies had finally become disentangled from one another, and she'd gathered up her clothes and gotten dressed again, playing with her hair for a moment before glancing over at me. "Almost wish you'd never get dressed again," she said, in this quiet lusty voice, then suddenly realized what she'd said. "Ah, sorry, hon," she said. "Just, ah, you're hot enough to make me dumb."

"I get it," I told her, smiling. "If I could guarantee the only people who saw my naked body would be hot superheroines like yourself, I'd gladly wander around naked every day."

She let out a laugh at that, a wicked smile on her face. "Glad to hear it. So. How does it feel to get fucked by a woman who actually knows what she's doing?"

"It feels great," I said, completely missing any intended subtext. "Your blowjob was... wow. And you did things with your pussy that, ah, I hope everybody else I fuck knows."

She blinked at that, a few times, just staring at me for a second. "Everybody else you fuck? I know you've been on a couple dates since you got here, but, uh," she said, pausing. "I mean, it's the twenty-first century, your body, your business, all that." It was kind of cute, seeing the awkwardness with which she approached the subject - but, I needed to make it clear, if it hadn't been already.

"I'm fucking other women. A, uh, lot. I don't think I should name them all, you know, for their own privacy, but, yeah." I swallowed. "Sorry if this isn't what you thought it was?" I tried.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I felt your dick in my mouth, so I don't think I can be that confused about it," she said, with a playful pout. "Ha. Would you believe in two hundred years, first time I've heard a guy say something like that?" I nodded. "When you say others, we talking two? Three?"

Mentally I counted: Xico, Kate, Priscilla, Lope, Nora. Five. "Higher," was all I said, and she just wore an expression that suggested an attempt to subdue her surprise and awe at the number.

"Booty calls?"

"Uh, I can call them to fuck them, sure," I said, with a small laugh. "But it's more, uh, stuff like this. Go on a nice date at the girl's expense. Fuck her brains out for a good time. Rinse repeat. Sometimes, we skip the first part," I admitted.

She laughed at that. "Damn. I could've gotten out of this whole thing?" She gestured around.

"You liked it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, sure. It was fun. Weird to think... so you did fuck Priscilla, then?" She asked.

"...yeah," I admitted.

"So who's better?"

Time slowed down for a subjective ten seconds as I carefully chose my words. "Every girl is different," I said. "If Priscilla had ruined me for other women, I wouldn't be here. I liked what you did, and I liked what she did."

"Yeah, but who did it better?"

"She used her powers to make me come a whole fuck of a lot, but just raw number of orgasms isn't all there is to sex."

Esther frowned, looking at me sharply. It wasn't anger - it was competitive edge, if I had to put a turn of phrase to it. She was trying to think of how she could blow whatever Priscilla had done out of the water. "Yeah, guess so. Anyway, let's head back, starting to get dark," she said, pulling her duffle bag back over her shoulder.

I made sure to grope her tits pretty much the whole way back to the city. I'm pretty sure it helped smooth things over quite a bit.

* * *

"Hey, there's that handsome devil," Mira said, poking her head into my office once again as the workday wound down. "Was wondering if you'd be offended if I invited you over to my place? Not for sex, unless you wanna," she said, with a liquid grin, "but I've got an Invision - you know what those are?"

I did, more or less. Basically a console that costs like $3,000 per controller. "Rich people VR headsets?" I asked.

"Ah, VR is downselling it. The Sinclair Iris is a VR headset, you stick it on your head, put on some gloves, and wander around your room bumping into things. No, the Invision, well, it's kind of hard to explain, but it basically reads your mind and sends you a second set of signals? It feels like it's real, but without the problem of losing track of what's actually, really going on."

I did know about the VR headset of my world. I didn't own one, but it was my general impression it didn't have any good games. "Are there even any games worth playing for it? There's like, what, ten thousand of those things sold?"

"Oh," she waved her hand dismissively. "AI programming, my friend. It's a whole new age. Just take MechFighter 3's source code, dump it into the machine for it to peel apart and analyze, and you've got something shockingly playable without any tweaks. With a month or two of work by the company to properly tweak it? Might as well be living in the game world in question."

"AI can do that?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Sure. They were doing text games that way like a decade ago. It's not perfect, but there's plenty of good games for the Invision, trust me. So, you in?"

"Sure," I decided.

She smiled. "After work, maybe? Wear something sexy?"

"I'll be there," I said, "wearing normal clothing."

"Got it. You're a chaste boy, Mr. Cooper, I won't dare presume." She pulled back out of the room, and I heard a grunt of approval escape her throat. I couldn't help but wonder if she had just pumped her fist in triumph.

"Yes," Xico said automatically, then blushed as she realized what she'd said, fidgeting in place.

"Everybody outside my office could see it, don't worry," I reassured her. No reason to feel guilty about it. It was cute, honestly.