Edging

The zipper descended. Sue Storm's gaze hung on the slowly-revealed spheres. Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow, was a bit busty for her height and build. She was like a human gazelle, all willowy muscle and whipcord strength, graceful as an Olympic gymnast. Yet her tits, which she now watched with terrible intensity, were a little too ripe for her frame, sat a little too high, were a little too perfectly symmetrical.

Sue bit her lip as the stiff pink nipples burst free, the areola more prominent than she imagined they would be. Maybe it was just the image inducer, but the Invisible Woman was convinced that the Black Widow had a breast augmentation.

She was beginning to be convinced too, that maybe she could find women other than Dr. Stone attractive.

The deft fingers played with her tits, teased the stiff nipples. "Natasha" stared at Sue with half-lidded eyes, those Slavic cheekbones suddenly flushed a vivid red. Yet the voice that came out was Dr. Stone's.

"Edging is a masturbation technique that is useful to cultivate to achieve true erotic satisfaction," she said, voice breathy and enthralling. The head of the image distorted slightly, as with a halo of light. Sue ignored it, fixated on the slowly-revealed body of her friend. "It involves delayed gratification. Using all of your erogenous zones, taking yourself to the cusp of ecstasy and then...holding yourself there."

One hand pushed down, inside the form-fitting black suit, and Sue's eyes dropped as she saw the zipper along the back of Black Widow's wrist, the fingers obviously rubbing at her crotch, the pussy just hidden from view.

"It...it requires control," the Black Widow licked her lips. Her tongue ran around the outside, as through **** for something to suck, some mouth to kiss, some pussy to lick. "To bring yourself to the edge, but only the edge. To remain at the height of anticipation, rather than succumb to swift ecstasy. To hold off for the bigger, harder orgasm to cum instead of settling for a quick, weak, ten-minute thrill."

Sue sat enraptured. It was all she could do not to shove her own hand down her pants and join her.

Instead, the Invisible Woman watched and listened. The heroine could not see the blood that ran down Moonstone's face from her nostrils, the way the villain's eyes were bloodshot, or see the sweat that dripped down her body as she taxed her powers to the utmost. Yet Sue could hear the strain in Dr. Stone's voice, which was almost hoarse now, begging for release.

Then there came a time when Dr. Stone stopped speaking entirely. Her heavy breathing filled the room. All was quiet and still except for the Black Widow's almost frantic fingering of her pussy. The illusion's eyes rolled back in their sockets and Sue Storm had inched her ass to the edge of her seat, pussy so swamped that she could feel a little trickly of warm wetness run down the back of her legs.

When Natasha Romanov came, it was with an unexpected thrust of her hips. Two hot wet liquid drops gently touched Sue Storm's face, and the heroine leaned back in shock. She watched in utter fascination and a touch of horror as the Black Widow lost herself, whole body spasming as the climax she had held off for the last hour was finally unleashed, and ripped through her in a chain of mini-climaxes that left the redhead an exhausted, panting mess.

The image flickered for just a moment, and Sue caught a glimpse of blonde hair and glasses through the image.

"I...I want you to...think of...this, when you're...touching yourself this week," a wan smile **** itself on "Black Widow's" features, of a kind Sue had never seen on her friend's face. "Think about...someone...else...than Dr. Stone."

"I'll try," Sue Storm promised, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.