Natasha Opens The Door, Unable To Stop Herself

Decades of training told Natasha Romanov not to open the door. She needed to hide, to flee, to prepare to strike the moment someone else opened the door. It was almost as if she watched someone else's hands grip the handle. Tear the door open, stare out into the hallway...

A man stood limned in the doorway. Dressed in a tight-fitting purple outfit, biceps and shoulders bear, blond hair close-cropped, a bow and arrow in his hand, at the ready but not yet drawn back. Hawkeye, Clint Barton, saw Natasha and his eyes went wide. A question on his lips.

Feverish with need, Natasha didn't know why Hawkeye was there, and she didn't care. What she knew was that he was a dick. A loving, wonderful seven-and-a-half-inches of circumcised sausage. She lurched forward, ignoring the pain in her bad leg. Grabbed him by the shoulders and wrapped herself around him as she dragged him into the bathroom. She barely had the presence of mind not to slam the door as she pushed him against it.

"Nat?" Clint whispered. "What are you doing here? I was—"

She silenced him with a kiss. Her tongue pushed into his mouth as she systematically stripped off enough of their mutual costumes to free his schlong and her gushing cunny. She rubbed the limp member against the furnace of her gash and felt him swell and stiffen.

Good old Clint Barton. One of the most reliable horny sons-of-bitches in the superheroic field.

When he was hard enough, the Black Widow slammed her pussy home. The unprotected schlong slammed into her, hot and raw and hard, and they made love as spies do, nearly silent, standing up, every sense alive to the slightest sound of an oncoming enemy, their frantic fucking driven by desperation and the adrenaline of being caught.

Natasha normally couldn't tell when a man had cum inside of her. The dicksplash against her cervix was too small, too modest to really register. She only knew later, when her pussy felt too wet, when the watery seed leaked out of her. Now...now it was as it fireworks exploded behind her eyes. Her whole pussy squeezed down tight enough for Clint to whine in pain, as she squeezed out every last drop, and her cervix fluttered. She panted, suddenly glad she'd had a hysterectomy. If she did have a uterus, that much cum would be very, very dangerous.

What was more important, however, is that for a brief moment her mind cleared.