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The shower water poured down on Peter’s tired nerves, heat flushing into his wired muscles and trying to unstring them. All it accomplished was to make him twitch off his still-trembling exhilaration. He forced his sore, million ton arms into motion, picking up a bar of soap and scrubbing at a layer of sweat that seemed to adhere to him like crude oil. Long day. Bad day.

“The glamorous life of an Avenger,” Natasha said, somewhere in the steam surrounding him. Peter supposed he didn’t have room to complain when he was using the communal shower instead of the one in his guest room. Five minutes ago, he’d felt too damn scummy to wait any longer than he had to to scrub off. Now, with his adrenaline dipping, he felt too worn down to ever get out from under the showerhead. 

“Well, I’ve met worse water pressure,” Peter said, forcing himself back into motion, washing at himself fixedly. 

Natasha stepped up to the stall beside his, not that the partitions from shin to chest could handle someone as tall and leggy as her. He could see the slopes of her breasts, ripe jiggles that ran through her entirely natural cleavage, and pink nail polish on her bare toes. That level of intimacy was unexpectedly erotic to him. 

Naked as she was, she looked even better when the shower turned on and started wetting her down. Water looking like ambrosia as it poured over her creamy flesh, her hair slicked down her back, and an orgasmic expression on her face as she turned it up to receive the shower spray on her perfect bone structure, not even the bruises managing to detract from her pristine facial symmetry. If Mary Jane was ever unavailable for a photo shoot, Nat would make for a fine replacement. Not that Peter was sure she was a natural redhead, with the lack of blemishes on her creamy, tanned skin--not a freckle in sight, and Peter could check an awful lot at the moment.

“All we go through for them,” she continued, her slight Russian accent clipping her words into haikus. “No parades. No feasts. Just hot shower.”

“I like hot showers,” Peter said.

“You like them a lot,” Natasha replied, easily looking over the partition and down into his own stall.

Peter didn’t have to look down to know what had caught her eye.

Natasha came out of her stall and leaned on the partition in the entryway to his stall, standing with her thighs apart, her cunt glistening. Yeah. A natural redhead. “Maybe we have our own parade, eh? Our own feast.”

Peter grabbed her by the hips, spinning her around and swinging her into his stall, against the tiled wall under the showerhead. She cackled wickedly as she hit; the laugh became moans as he fit his body to hers. There was little room for her full breasts against the muscles of his chest, but there seemed to be even less room for his cock inside her tight pussy. It fit anyway. She gasped, once when he was inside her, then with each thrust he made into her. Peter wasn’t sure he got any deeper, but she never felt any looser, so it hardly seemed to matter.

“This is why I love Americans!” she moaned as he rocked against her, pressing her flat to the tiles, her legs interspersed with his. “You know how to party!”

He kept pounding into her, harder now, expecting at any moment for her to ask him to slow down or ease up or even to cry out in pain, but she seemed to have no limit when it came to roughness. She meshed one hand in his hair and clawed at his scalp as she kissed him; with the other, she reached between their bodies and flicked her clit. Peter would’ve tried to do it for her, but he was enjoying his grip on her hips too much, clutching her in place as he plowed into her and barely holding back at all.

When she suddenly seized his forearms, Peter paused more out of surprise than concern for her well-being. “I’m coming!” Natasha huffed, and he felt a warm flush of her juices around his deeply buried prick, the heat of it blooming down his balls and along his thighs. Jesus… he could feel her dripping down his cock.

Natasha took a deep breath; its exhale pushed drops of water off her wet lips. “Well? Why have you stopped? You’re still hard, you should still be fucking me.”

 

“I said do it again!” Nebula demanded in her hoarse voice, drawing a large knife that seemed impossibly to have been within her tight clothes.

“I do not know to what you are referring,” Norrin said. Nebula held the knife against his throat; Dawn wasn’t sure if she was worried about Nebula actually being able to harm him, Norrin blasting her, or just the whole situation getting even more socially awkward.

“I can do it,” Dawn said rapidly, holding up her hands.

Nebula looked at her questioningly. “You have his power.”

Dawn bit her lip. “Pull down your pants. Let me show you.”

Nebula held the knife on her, her confusedly neutral expression settling into a scowl. “You do it. Immediately.”

Dawn got down on her knees, working at Nebula’s buckle and then at the straps of her leggings. She didn’t think she was too familiar with alien zippers, but she managed to get everything out of the way quickly enough. And, fortunately for her, nothing down there was too exotic. It was all blue, of course, with the inner part red, but nothing looked… unappetizing.

“I am feeling nothing!” Nebula growled, putting the knife at the back of Dawn’s neck. “If you do not do as you have said--”

Dawn bit back a retort as she lashed her gaze up into Nebula’s eyes. There was no point being clever. Norrin was too pacifistic to intercede and she’d be damned if the situation deteriorated because she wasn’t good enough at going down on an alien lesbian.

She opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and moved in until she’d touched Nebula’s sex, not having a plan other than getting a taste of the other woman. Nebula sighed before shaking her head in a burst of motion. Dawn was gratified with how welcome her body seemed to find the feeling, no matter how ungracious Nebula was about it. She traced her tongue up the pussy lips, finding an interestingly raspy texture to them that reminded her of a snake. Nebula growled, and Dawn looked up to see if she’d aroused her ire, but somehow the sight of her, even with teeth bared, just convinced Dawn she was enjoying it. 

She chanced putting her hands on Nebula’s creamy thighs, squeezing the slightly cool flesh. She could feel a hardness under her left hand that had to be another cybernetic part, so she shied away from that, massaging up and down Nebula’s legs as she performed the same soothing motion with her tongue trailing up and down Nebula’s slit.

“You… yes… your tongue,” Nebula’s head turned sharply to the side, back again, then turned again, several times, like she was working out a kink in her neck. “Your tongue should be inside me.”

Dawn applied gentle pressure with her tongue, but not enough to part the lips of Nebula’s pussy. They really were tight, and though they were growing more receptive, Dawn was careful not to apply too much force. She spread them, she let them close, lapping her tongue in and out of Nebula without ever really entering her. Nebula started to coo as Dawn’s hands went around the backs of her thighs, fingers coiling around the tender skin there, squeezing it, releasing it, feeling the shivers from the slow, steady rhythm throb along the lips she was licking. 

“You are not pleasing me enough!” Nebula cried, though it was immediately following by a mewling sigh. “I wish, I wish more stimulation! Make your tongue give me more pleasure!”

Dawn just looked up at her, not giving Nebula an inch in her quiet stare, still running her tongue along the inner lips of Nebula’s sex. Deeper than she’d gone before, but nowhere near far enough to touch Nebula where an Earth woman would need to be touched. Showing her that she would be getting her ‘more stimulation,’ but on Dawn’s timetable.

Nebula’s hands fisted and tightened, and she held them up as if about to smash something, but Norrin gripped them by the wrists as he stepped in behind her, pressing against her back.

“I believe I may be of some assistance.”

Right through Nebula’s cunt, Dawn could feel the alien’s buttocks clench. “What is that?” Nebula demanded.

“It is an apparatus I have generated for the stimulus of your erogenous zones. It is known as a penis. I have made it quite large, since you seem to need a great deal of sexual stimulation.”