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Natasha slept poorly—so poorly that she might as well have been awake. In one of her dreams she was with Bruce. They were fucking gloriously, the way she’d always known they would. He was taking her from behind, showing her the animal passion that called to her from underneath the gentle exterior Betty loved so much. He leaned in close to kiss her neck and she felt the steamy exhale of the Hulk.

“Блять,” Natasha moaned, turning her head, looking right into the beast’s face. It was his manhood ramming into her, sending delight throughout her unwilling body, and even as she realized this, she felt herself orgasming, her body shaking apart under his thrusts, and he felt it, enjoyed it, spearing her with his shaft like he couldn’t stop, and she couldn’t stop either, only laid there and sobbed and bucked and came, again and again.

She came awake sweaty, her blood racing, her heart pounding, not sure if she’d had a wet dream or a nightmare. It had been years since Sokovia—since Bruce had disappeared. It was strange to think about it now. The trauma, the intensity of that night had seemed like a high-wire act… something destined to give… but instead, it had held. Like without Bruce, she and Betty were locked in their suspense. And like any masochists, they had become comfortable there.

Outside it was cold, storming, the windows fogged up where they weren’t streaked with rain. It at least made it nicer to be snuggled in bed. Natasha tossed aside the pillow—too soft, anyway—and moved up over the bare mattress to press her forehead against the chilly glass of the window. When she opened her eyes, all she saw was the spatter of rain blotting out the darkness. She missed Russia and its cold. There was nothing better than watching the cold rain from a warm room.

Betty stirred beside her, as if so attuned to Natasha by now that she felt the woman’s movement, her discontent. Natasha’s appreciation of the storm passed. Wet, familiar need replaced it.

Betty was used to loving monsters. Natasha supposed it was natural that her comfort of the pain and confusion that Bruce had left had then become the soothing of all the other pain and confusion in her life—somehow working in turn on Betty, making things right for her, or at least less wrong. How fucked up could she be if she was taking care of someone as fucked up as Natasha?

“Are you awake?” Betty whispered.

Natasha closed her eyes. She was no longer overwarm—the cold glass was starting to freeze her, burn her forehead with soggy coldness. “I had a dream.”

Betty knew what that meant. “I miss him too.”

“Is that what I’m doing? Missing him?”

“Missing closure,” Betty amended graciously.

“Closure,” Natasha repeated listlessly. Lightning sizzled in the night, painting her in stark blue tones, then leaving her in darkness. “He fucked me and I still don’t know if I really liked it. If I figure it out, is that going to make it any better? Knowing that I wanted it, but I hated it? Or that I didn’t want it, but I…”

She trailed off. They both knew what she was talking about. She had come for Betty many times in the past few years. But when she cried out, when she really clenched, she wasn’t thinking of her.

Natasha felt a slender arm encircling her bare waist, caressing the taut muscle of her belly. She sighed as Betty’s hand moved to cup her full breasts. Then she rolled onto her back and Betty threw off the covers. Natasha felt cold, but then Betty was lying on top of her, kissing her stiff nipple. 

She wondered if Betty felt cold. The brunette was a small woman, and Natasha wrapped her arms around her back to warm her, but what was really heating Natasha was the lust in her cunt. She wondered if Betty was feeling just as hot, taking a nipple the size of a silver dollar between her lips.

“It scares you, how you feel about him,” Betty observed, resting her head now on Natasha’s chest, both of them enjoying the alternating chill of the night and the warmth of each other’s bodies.

“No shit.”

“You’re turned on,” Betty intoned. “Turned on just thinking about him. If he were here, you’d want him. You’d go to him. You’re such a pragmatist, but you can’t handle the fact that you’d give in that way. You agonize over it like you’re shaking a magic eight ball, trying to get a different answer.”

“I can tell you used to date a psychologist,” Natasha said caustically, even as she rubbed more warmth into Betty’s naked back.

“It’s okay. It’s not an easy thing to be comfortable with.”

“Are you?”

“More or less.” Natasha felt the rueful smile Betty’s lips made against the curve of her breast. “I don’t think I can get more comfortable, or that it’s something one’s supposed to be comfortable with. But you…” Betty gave Natasha’s closest nipple a long, juicy suckle. Natasha rolled her head to the side, aching with the need to come. She’d been fooling herself. It hadn’t been a nightmare. And she was still turned on by it. “You could stand to be a little more comfortable.”

Natasha looked down at Betty, seeing her hungry eyes seeming to gleam in the blackness. “Is that what you’re doing?” she asked wryly. “Making me comfortable?”

“You find it easier to relate to things through your sexuality.”

“What a very intellectual way to put it, doctor.”

“It’s not very intellectual at all,” Betty replied. “The shadow-self, the flesh. Lust. But it is comingled with the mental. Wanting something you can’t have. The taboo.”

“You still sound like you’re writing a college paper.”

Betty shrugged. “Mind if I turn the light on?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to look at you,” Betty said. “You’re very nice to look at.”

Natasha glanced at the window beyond the bed. It didn’t take much spycraft to know that with the light on, the sight of their naked bodies would be broadcast out into the night like the beam from a lighthouse. But then, fuck it. Let them be seen if anyone was watching. She had much bigger things to be ashamed about than her bare flesh and the things she did with Betty Ross.

“Do it,” Natasha said. She easily could’ve done it herself, but she didn’t know how much Betty relished having the initiative in situations like this.

Betty reached over and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand. Natasha closed her eyes against the harshness of its glare, but she still felt Betty’s eyes drinking her in, the lust. It wasn’t leering or crude, a simple need to possess her—though there was that—but there was also an artistic appreciation, a connoisseur’s critical evaluation that became a glowing response.

“God, you look incredible,” Betty said, her voice husky, lust filtering into her veneration. “I wish I had tits like yours.”

“You can play with mine as much as you want,” Natasha said, a fond smile creeping over her face. “Hope that takes the sting off.”

“A little.” But instead of going for Natasha’s breasts, she moved her face toward Natasha’s. Natasha would’ve thought she was going for a kiss, until Betty’s lips were next to her ear. “Do you ever think of how you’d fuck him? If maybe we could do it together? Two against one?”

Natasha pushed Betty away, flipping her onto her back beside her. “That is not why we’re doing this…”

“You can’t say why we’re doing this. So how can you say that’s not the reason?”

Betty had missed her calling. She should’ve been a SHIELD interrogator. “Because I don’t date women to have threesomes with them. I date them to date them. Period.”

“Then that’s not how you think about doing it?”

“No!”

“How do you fantasize about it, then?”

Natasha groaned. Should’ve been fucking running SHIELD. Betty would have Loki begging for mercy with one look. “He’s… bound. Held down. Trapped. Adamantium or something. And I can… use him…”

“Is that how it was in your dream?”

Natasha flushed, feeling like she was burning up again, the sweat-soaked sheets boiling water, Betty an open flame Natasha didn’t dare touch while she was all gunpowder and crude oil. “No… it was like it was in Sokovia. Only… first I was with Bruce, then he became the Hulk. When I…”

“When you came?” Betty asked. 

“Yes.” Natasha reached up to the window, pressing her palm flat against it, trying to draw some of its coolness into her body.

“That’d be a good way to do it,” Betty said. “Fuck Bruce. Bring him to climax. When he turned into the Hulk, he’d be more lethargic. Easier to manage. You could suck him, handle him, without having to worry about being penetrated.”

“Maybe I want to be penetrated,” Natasha said. “Maybe I want him to fuck me to death.”

“Sometimes I want that too,” Betty replied. “But only to show him I could take it. That he’s not just a destroyer. That we like it so much more than we fear it. Nat, you’re still turned on…”

She took one of Natasha’s nipples—fat and rosy—into her mouth. She sucked it much harder than before, drawing in her cheeks with suction until Natasha was groaning, writhing blissfully underneath her.

“That feels wonderful,” Natasha breathed, putting her hand on the back of Betty’s neck, as if to keep the sensation going for much, much longer.

Betty was in no hurry to end it either. She kept playing with Natasha’s ample cleavage, kneading the full, pendulous breasts and kissing the contours to spur Natasha’s erect nipples on to greater hardness, until Natasha could barely breathe with how tender they were. But it was how warm her pussy had grown that truly tormented her.

“Eat my cunt, Betty,” Natasha gasped. “I… so bad… I need it so bad…”

Betty slid down Natasha’s body, taking in all of it—the lean muscles, the abundant curves, the brutal scars. She planted wet kisses on everything, lavishing her tongue on Natasha’s adorable navel. Natasha stiffened as Betty opened her creamy thighs—the pouting lips of her cunt felt colder than ever in the open air, but the wave of sensation brought an answering heat. Maybe it was just having Betty see her moist sex.

Betty kissed one of Natasha’s thighs and bit the other, one wave of sensation striking Natasha’s nearby cunt, then another, until she was wiggling her ass needfully on the mattress. Then Betty wasn’t kissing, wasn’t biting. She was sliding her tongue out of her mouth, onto the swollen lips of Natasha’s labia.

To Natasha’s cooing welcome, she ran her tongue inside, and Natasha arched her back to drive it deep into her sex. Betty’s lips closed on Natasha’s pulsing core and she sucked, she tongued, not letting Natasha go a moment without wanton pleasure throbbing through her body.

“Yes, Betty!” Natasha grimaced, her expression tightening with each flash of heat that ran through her. “Suck me!” She opened her legs far apart, lifting her ass, giving all of her slit to the other woman’s tongue. “Feels so good! You make my cunt feel so good!”

Betty slid her hands hungrily up Natasha’s writhing body, finding her jiggling breasts once more. It took a moment of fumbling gropes, but then she had Natasha’s stiff nipples between her fingers. She twisted them, and Natasha cried out throatily as the pain in her tits ran together with the heated thrumming that was ravishing her sex.

Before Natasha had recovered, sorted one sensation from another, Betty was eating her pussy ravenously, sucking and licking and kissing Natasha’s womanhood, the leaking arousal as warm as Natasha’s burning sex itself. Natasha gasped again and again, never seeming to get used to the ecstasy she was expressing, and she whipped her hips up off the mattress, fucking herself on the tongue that was tasting her.

“I’m gonna come!” Natasha keened. She thrust her ass up higher, wanting, needing Betty’s tongue deeper in her sex. “Finger me, за́йка—use your hands—just get me off!” 

Betty obligingly slid her hand up Natasha’s sweating legs, feeling their corded muscles quivering underneath her touch. She parted the folds of Natasha’s womanhood and ran two fingers deep inside of Natasha, at the bottom of her cunt where she was churning, clenching, while her tongue was at the top, tickling Natasha all the way to her G-spot.

“Yes!” Natasha sighed, lost between the two exquisite pleasures that demanded all of her attention twice over. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, could only beg: “Yes, yes, yes…”

Betty pushed Natasha’s legs up and back until her knees were against her cleavage, her ass upturned. She spread Natasha’s buttocks far apart, set her lips against Natasha’s anus, and thrust her tongue past the snug little ring.

As always, Natasha felt a moment of shock, a flash of disbelief that Betty was actually willing to do something so taboo. Then the feel of Betty’s tongue in her ass fully registered and she whimpered with the all-consuming heat flaring through her nether regions. 

“Oh shit! Shit!” It was a high-pitched, whining sound, nearly lost in the upper registers of Natasha’s voice, but it was all she could say as the spasms of her climax began deep within Natasha’s groin. “I’m gonna come, Betty! I can’t stop! I’m so close—it’s so close!”

Betty returned her lips to Natasha’s sex, sucking it madly while stuffing in two fingers to fill Natasha’s throbbing anus. Natasha had not nearly grown used to being penetrated that way when Betty jammed more fingers into her cunt, moving her lips to Natasha’s clit. The little bud was swollen into being super-sensitive; just looking at it had a painful intensity for Natasha. Betty sucked it hard, drilling her tongue into the tip.

“Coming!” Natasha cried, shuddering, convulsing helplessly on the bed, biting down on her lower lip and shrieking as each wave of orgasm shot exquisitely through her naked body. She could feel it in her ass, her cunt, her clitoris, all at once. “Suck me, Betty… fuck me with your fingers… it feels wonderful… gghh! Fuck, fuck, I’m…!”

“Take it, Nat!” Betty hissed, speaking for the first time as Natasha lost herself beyond speech. “Take all of it! You want my fingers, bitch? You want my tongue? Maybe you want cock—Bruce’s cock fucking in this hot cunt, that turn you on? Or do you only get wet for the Hulk?”

The words forced Natasha to a higher plateau of excitement. She imagined Betty’s fingers in her cunt, Bruce’s swollen dick in her ass, while the Hulk forced himself down her throat…

Her womanhood erupted with a sudden flow of cream, overflowing the throbbing lips of her sex, while her asshole contracted sharply, as if unwilling to release Betty’s fingers. Betty plunged her fingers in and out of Natasha’s holes, her tongue licking endlessly at the sweet juices that were hers to taste, cleaning the glistening flood from all of Natasha’s groin until her rapture had completely subsided.

Only then did they notice Natasha’s phone on the table, gently trilling, its face lit up quietly.

Natasha and Betty couldn’t meet each other’s eyes, not then, but Betty laid her head down in Natasha’s lap and Natasha rested her hand on the back of Betty’s neck while she picked up her phone with the other one.

Natasha didn’t unlock it immediately. Despite how hard she had come, she still felt a sense of dissatisfaction. It had nothing to do with Betty—few could bring her to orgasm as thoroughly as Betty could. But the longer she was with her, the more she felt drawn to… exactly what Betty had brought up. Stiff, throbbing cocks. Bruce. The Hulk. 

Sometimes she fingered herself while Betty was away, dreaming about a huge erection penetrating her so vastly that it hurt, taking her back to before she knew how to use her cunt, making her a virgin again, a virgin and a whore all at once. When she saw pictures of Bruce—and there were plenty in Betty’s presence—she found herself studying his crotch, trying to guess how big his cock was, how much it would grow when he was aroused.

She knew, of course, how big it could get when he was angry. She kept having dreams of taking his big, brutal cock between her lips and sucking the cum out of it just as Betty had done for her cream. She wondered if Betty ever thought about giving her one of those tonguejobs after the Hulk had fucked her. When her pussy tasted as much of Bruce as it did of her.

“Who is it?” Betty asked, a little sleepily—at least she could sleep—and now bringing her eyes up to find Natasha’s.

Natasha thumbed the phone’s fingerprint recognition. “It’s SHIELD,” she said after a moment, her voice hoarse. “They picked up a ship crashlanding in the desert. It’s letting off high levels of gamma radiation.”

“Natasha,” Betty began, suddenly wide awake. “I…”

“Quiet,” Natasha snapped, not angrily, but her calm voice brooking no disagreement. “It’s your turn now.”

She reversed their positions on the bed, digging her tongue into Betty’s snatch, relishing the delicious taste of Betty’s dripping juices. For a moment, there was no asking why Betty was so turned on or why Natasha was so ravenous. She smacked her lips at the lovely taste, nostrils flaring at the lovely smell, and all that mattered was how Natasha adored eating out Betty’s cunt. Her hands reached out to massage Betty’s jutting breasts, to grab hold of her plump ass, while her mouth sucked hotly at the copious arousal Betty had to feed her.

“Isn’t this nice?” Natasha whispered into Betty’s sex, her hot breath raising even more goosebumps than her lapping tongue did.

Betty answered by pulling Natasha up her body, humming the affirmative into her mouth as she kissed her, as they shared the taste of each other’s cunts, with nothing else added to the mix.

The phone, its message discharged, went black to save power.