BW:F Chapter 18

Nat chooses a casino that’s all glitz and gilding. It’s full of high ceilings, bright lights, and big dragon statues. Laughter and music fill the air with the dinging of slot machines and live jazz. Arm in arm, Nat and Jen stride in like celebrities. Nat has foregone her wig, but done up in a dress like this, she’s not easy to recognize. Jennifer Walters certainly isn’t well-known in Madripoor—but she’s known to people who keep an eye on certain things.

“How much of Tony’s money can I lose here?” Jen asks excitedly. “Are we allowed to drink?”

“Go nuts,” Nat tells her.

Jen gambles a little and drinks a few cocktails, but mostly wants to sightsee. The casino is vast. They walk past a VIP booth in which a woman in a very interesting white, lacy, lingerie-like outfit is lounging, legs spread with one high-heeled foot on the table. Kneeling in front of her is one of the casino waitresses, her face buried between the blonde’s legs.

Jen turns pink and walks faster. She leans toward Nat.

“I saw all the sex stuff on the menu,” she confides. “This place is crazy.”

“I hope you aren’t judging.”

“Oh, no. Support sex workers and all that. Um,” Jen says, licking her lips. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“Do what? Get laid? Why not?”

“I don’t know. What if Cap or Fury find out and send us to church camp or something?”

“They won’t find out,” Nat lies. “It’s a good idea.”

“Really? Then, um, will you excuse me?”

“We’re going to have to stick together,” Nat tells her. “Madripoor is dangerous.”

“Oh. But not in a weird way?”

“You’re the one busting into my changing room,” Nat fires back.

BLACK WIDOW

Madripoor offers every conceivable service. They’ll make any dream come true for the right price. Nat hopes that Pepper sees these charges on Tony’s credit card bill. Jen picks out a pair of suspiciously hot, muscle-bound men, and Nat just hires the first girl she sees. They find themselves naked in a room with fountains, steam, and incense, having every inch of their bodies covered in scented oil and then lovingly massaged.

“What happens in Madripoor stays in Madripoor, right?” Jen repeats the question, a little breathlessly as one man massages her breasts and the other gently fingers her on a padded lounger.

Nat’s on her back as her girl, also coated in oil, slides her naked body over Nat’s. At the moment, her shaved mound is gliding back and forth over Nat’s erection, pressed against her stomach. The girl slides off and grips Nat’s cock, her hand moving effortlessly over the lubed-up shaft.

“Sure,” Nat gasps as the girl’s oiled palm milks Nat’s load out onto her skin.