Shadows of Desire in the Nights of War

Winter 1944, a secret laboratory beneath the snow-capped peaks of the Swiss Alps. The smell of burnt metal, sweat, and gunpowder still hung in the air. British Captain Peggy Carter sat in the metal chair in the control room, her gray SOE uniform torn from shoulder to waist, her tanned, muscular skin gleaming in the dim light of the emergency lights. The supersoldier’s head had not only grown to 183 centimeters, but had perfected every curve of her body: full, firm 95F breasts, the tips of which were firm and prominent even under the torn fabric; a slim 60-centimeter waist, round, muscular 102-centimeter hips that rose and fell with every breath; thighs that could crush a man, but now trembled with desire.

The door to the room creaked open. Howard Stark entered, his leather jacket half-open, his black hair matted to his forehead. He held a bottle of single malt whiskey in his hand, but his eyes were locked on Peggy—on her breasts rising and falling with each breath, on the sweat running down the valley between them, on her open thighs glistening under the table.

“Peggy… God, you… you’re a work of art now.” Howard’s voice was rough and hoarse, his cock hard under his crooked trousers.

Peggy smiled crookedly, stood up. She was taller than Howard now. With one step, she closed the distance. The smell of her body—a mixture of gunpowder, sweat, and heightened hormones—reached Howard.

“Don’t you have time yet, Stark?” she whispered, but her hand reached Howard’s belt, unbuckling it. The pants fell, Howard's cock shot out: 19 centimeters, thick, veins prominent, the head wet from the spray. Peggy rolled the head of the cock with her fingertip, spreading the spray. Howard let out a deep moan.

Peggy tore her uniform open—the buttons flew like bullets. Her breasts were free, heavy and excited, the dark pink tips hard and prominent. Howard knelt, put his mouth on one breast, sucked, his tongue circling the tip, his teeth biting gently. Peggy threw her head back, her long brown hair falling to her waist. His hand went behind Howard's head, pulled her hair, pressed her breast deeper into his mouth.

"Suck it like a child, Stark. Bite. Hard."

Howard obeyed. He bit hard, Peggy let out a short scream, water gushing between her legs. In one motion, Peggy lifted her—as if she were weightless—and placed her on the control table. Instruments spilled, screens shattered. Peggy pulled down her panties; her cunt was shaved, her lips swollen and pink, her clitoris prominent and wet. Howard ran his finger over her clitoris, Peggy shivered, her juices spilling over his finger.

“Damn… you’re like a fountain, Carter.”

Peggy spread her legs, sat on the table, her cunt wide open and ready. Howard took his cock, rubbed the head against the entrance, his foreskin and Peggy’s juices mixed together. Then he was in—all the way. Peggy screamed, her cunt walls contracting around Howard’s cock, as if he were going to crush it. Howard began to move, panting, each deep thrust, Peggy’s hips shaking under his hands, her breasts heaving.

“Faster… Damn it, Howard, I’m a supersoldier, not a doll!”

Howard picked up the pace, grabbed Peggy’s hips, and inserted his finger into her hole in the back. Peggy screamed, her first orgasm exploding—her cunt contracting, her juices gushing out, spilling over Howard’s belly. But he didn’t stop. With one movement, Peggy changed positions; now he was on top.

Her hips rose and fell, each time she sank to the bottom, the sound of a wet impact echoing through the room. Her breasts swayed, Howard grabbed them, twisted their tips. Peggy leaned over, stuck her tongue into Howard’s mouth, a wild, wet kiss.

“Again… I want to come again. Put your finger on the clitoris.”

Howard rubbed his finger over Peggy’s clitoris, pounding from below at the same time. Peggy's second orgasm was more intense—her body arched, her pussy locked like a clamp around Howard's cock, her juices spilling over Howard's thighs.

Howard turned her over, holding her from behind. Peggy bent over the table, her hips up, her back hole exposed. Howard spat, put his finger back in, then pulled his cock out and pressed the head of his back hole against hers.

"Easy… no, damn it, hard!" Peggy growled. Howard came in suddenly. Peggy screamed, pain and pleasure together. The tight walls of her back contracted around Howard's cock. Howard began to thrust, Peggy's buttocks reddening under his hands. Peggy reached down, rubbing herself, her third orgasm coming at the same time as Howard's ejaculation—Howard exploded inside her back, hot and full, his juices pouring out of Peggy's hole.

But my head knew no fatigue. They rolled to the floor. Peggy mounted again, this time backwards, her hips facing Howard. Howard's cock slid back into her vagina. Peggy rotated her hips in circles, Howard wrapped his arm around her waist, rubbed his finger over her clitoris. Sweat dripped from their bodies, the smell of sex filled the room. Peggy let her hair down, they spilled over her waist, Howard pulled her hair, bit her neck.

Hours passed. The positions changed:

• Peggy standing, one leg on the chair, Howard entered her vagina from behind, holding her breasts from underneath.

• Howard sitting on the chair, Peggy facing him, her breasts in his mouth, her hips up and down.

• Peggy lay on the floor, her legs spread, Howard between her legs, his tongue on her vagina, his fingers inside her, until Peggy trembled from successive orgasms and his cum soaked Howard's face.

Finally, as dawn approached, they fell into each other’s arms. Peggy’s body was still shaking, her vagina throbbing with the constant contractions. Howard pulled out his cock, their combined juices spilling onto Peggy’s thigh. Peggy stuck her finger inside herself, withdrew the liquid, and put it into Howard’s mouth.

“Our taste… Stark. This is our secret.”

Howe