Not a Virgin: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

To the Victor Go the Spoils

“You next.”

Natasha’s command jolted Steve out of staring. He thought there might’ve been a hint of a smirk leaking through her usual emotionless facade. Maybe she expected him to stutter and blush. Fortunately for her, Steve had never been one to disappoint a lady. 

“Apologies.” He pulled off the simple white T-shirt he usually slept in. A moment later, without hesitation, he pushed down his pants, leaving him in only boxers. 

Nat’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but a seemingly-genuine smile appeared right after. She kicked her robe out of the way and got low, gesturing for Steve to join her on the mats. So he did, of course. He wouldn't stop now.

It had been obvious earlier too, but the size difference between them stuck out. There was nearly a full foot between their heights, and while Steve’s build was pretty slender for the amount of muscles  he packed, it had nothing on Natasha’s skinny arms and narrow hips.

Nat opened the fight. 

She launched a high-kick similar to the start of their earlier fight. The view was even better this time, Steve mused, noticing her skimpy panties shifting tantalizingly across her crotch. It was very distracting, but he still blocked easily.

She spun into a back kick, revealing one thin patch of fabric along the crack of her ass that left little to the imagination. Steve caught her ankle and promptly threw it back, throwing off her balance. As Natasha stumbled, he could’ve swept her legs or struck her head, anything to take full advantage of the opening. 

Steve landed a different kind of strike instead.

“Oh!” Natasha exclaimed, hopping away to create some distance. One hand dipped to that delectable, exposed ass. Her fingers traced the fresh red mark bright against one cheek.

As she stared at Steve, a brief look of surprise crossed her face. Steve smirked. He raised his hand and gestured at her to come at him.

She sprinted across the distance, leaping up at the last moment. Her ankles hooked over Steve’s ears as she twisted her body, attempting to pull him to the floor face-first. All she succeeded in was making him lean forward. Steve caught himself long before he lost his balance. His hands grasped her bare waist, feeling his fingers dig into her soft warm skin, and trapped her in a tight grip.

Lifting Nat until her back was level with his hips, Steve jumped. He stuck his legs straight out, letting Natasha’s back hit the cushioned floor with the weight of them both. It was a move straight from one of those odd professional wrestling matches he caught on television once or twice. Like those performers, Steve managed the landing to keep it from hurting his sparring partner too badly, although the guttural grunt that echoed from Nat’s mouth said she certainly felt something.

She tried to raise her arms to fight back, but they were trapped firmly underneath Steve’s muscular calves. His hands gripped her knees, freezing her legs in place much the same. It took Nat less than a second to recognize her position. She looked up at Steve, pulling a remarkably striking sad puppy impression.

“Oh no,” she said. “I’ve been caught. Whatever will happen to me now?”

Steve grunted. He quickly shifted his arms, trapping her legs with the inside of his elbows in order to free his hands. They weren’t unoccupied long. He grabbed her thong and effortlessly tore it in two, tossing it away without a second glance.

“This submission hold will have you screaming in seconds,” Steve warned.

Natasha’s pussy was shaved down to the very last hair, revealing slender lower lips that protruded slightly. Steve shoved his tongue straight between them, relishing the slight resistance. His powerful tongue began to work quickly, scraping Natasha’s fleshy walls.

As he started, Natasha fought his grip. She thrashed her arms and legs, not gaining a single inch of ground. Steve noticed it, though. The longer he held her down, the wetter she became. His tongue’s working conditions were getting slipperier by the second. He pushed his way to the top of her vulva, and a few powerful strokes later discovered his goal: the clitoris. He strung the bean-like body part with every iota of force his tongue could muster.

“Ahn!” Natasha moaned. The high-pitched noise was uncharacteristic of anything Steve had heard from her, which lit a frenzy inside him. He channeled all that hot-and-bothered energy out the only place he could: his tongue.

The strokes became even rougher. He pushed Nat’s Clitoris right and left, up and down, flicked it, caressed it, tweaked it, and at times even left it alone entirely, just two pounce again when she’d had enough of a break to expect him to be done. Moist arousal was mixing with Steve’s saliva to paint her lips and inner thighs. Nat’s voice rang out again and again, unable to be kept down. Steve told her she was going to scream.

Some kind of sixth-sense, earned in the heat of battle during World War II, always screamed at Steve whenever he was standing in the firing line. It blared at him now and he pulled his head back, dragging his tongue out of Natasha’s depths. Mere moments later, her pussy turned into a fountain. Spouts of fluid erupted into the air, where gravity caught them and dragged them back down to splatter across her lower body.

Steve released her and stood up. Panting, Natasha rolled over and reached her feet. Even once standing, her legs looked less stable than a card table in the wind.

“Why’d you let me go?” Nat asked warily.

“What, didn’t want it to end?” Steve asked. “I wouldn’t blame you. Don’t worry, I’ll have you pressed to the wall in a few seconds anyway.”

“You’re pretty good with your tongue for a guy that spent the last sixty years in the ice.”

“It’s not from the ice,” Steve said. “It’s from before.” 

Nat’s eyebrows climbed. “Before the ice? You only had, what, a year with the serum before that? I call bullshit.”

“You have any idea how many backup dancers my shows had?” Steve chuckled. “They all knew the serum made me the ultimate man, and every last one wanted to check how far that went.”

“Were they disappointed?”

“You’ll be able to answer that yourself in an hour,” Steve said.

For the first time, he went on the attack. Nat tried to fend him off with a flurry of kicks, but they lacked any power. She switched to throwing punches, only to have the same problem. Her legs were shaking so badly that her form was shot. Steve bundled into her without any technique to speak of, shoving her against the wall. Before she could pry herself away he was there, pinning her to its surface exactly the way he promised he would.

“Uhnf!” Natasha groaned as Steve spun her around, mashing her bust flat to the wall, her ass sticking out into the room. Her grunt was quickly drowned by a loud smack. Steve peeled his hand away from where it had struck her ass, a red indent left behind in the jiggling flesh.

He rained down slap after slap, each hard enough to send a grown man reeling. Nat struggled slightly, but it was in vain. Just one of Steve’s arms was enough to leave her completely trapped.

“You loved it didn’t you?” Steve said.

Nat gasped. “What?”

“Being overpowered. Getting pinned helplessly, with all those men watching. Did it make you wet? Did you wish I’d tear off your clothes right there and take what’s mine, audience and all?”

Nat released a guttural moan, picturing such a scene in her head. Steve delivered another heavy slap, turning yet more of her pale ass to shades of pink and red.

“Maybe I should call them here. Let them watch the Black Widow get pounded like a whore.”

He delivered more sharp slaps. The longer he derided her the louder her moans grew after every impact. She sagged against the wall, her head drooping. Finally Steve pulled his arm away, and she sank to her knees, sliding down the wall with a quiet squeaking sound.

She didn’t stay kneeling long. With one hand pulling her hair and another on her shoulder, Steve dragged her a few steps away from the wall, until she was lying face-down on the training mats.

Steve kneeled above her, delivering a few more slaps to her now-rosy ass.

“Feeling it yet?” he asked.

Nat moaned something inaudible. Steve grabbed her long red hair, jerking her head back sharply. 

“Hair pulling isn’t allowed in spars,” Nat slurred. 

“Should I stop?” Steve said.

Nat giggled with half-lidded eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

He snapped her bra and reached down, kneading fistfuls of her breasts just because he could. Deciding he was overdressed for this point, Steve stepped back and pulled down his boxers.

Nat used that opening to try and push her way up. When she was only halfway up, Steve wrapped a hand around the base of his erect shaft. He stepped forward and struck Nat in the cheek with twelve inches of phallic flesh.

Her head snapped sideways as if struck with a fist, and she quickly dropped back to the floor. Steve gave her no time to rise again.

He bent down, hooking a broad arm around her neck and fastening the other to the back of her head. His biceps were the same size as her entire head. 

“This is how you do a headlock,” he whispered in her ear. 

His arms tightened just enough to give the sensation of choking without cutting off her air. The last thing he wanted was for her to pass out. His hips thrust slowly and powerfully, prioritizing burying deep in her pussy over speed.

From the first thrust his cock reached Natasha’s cervix. His head battered the walls of her pussy. Dull thumps filled the room. Each time Steve moved, his abs mashed Natasha’s raw ass cheeks, shoving her into the matt-covered floor. Her face was turning red to match her hair.

Just as Steve was preparing to loosen the headlock, something else tightened. The walls he’d been spreading suddenly constricted around his cock as if trying to crush it. The rush of an orgasm washed over Nat’s lower body, accompanied by a burbling groan that leaked out of her lips. Steve released the headlock.

Nat lay flat against the floor, seemingly content to lay flat and still and bask in what she was feeling. Steve had other plans.

“You finished, but we haven’t.”

He grabbed her hips, one powerful hand on each, and dragged them up till she was hanging loosely like a puppet. Steve lined her pussy up with his cock. Then he slammed her tight to his hips.

“Guh!” Nat choked out. More noises quickly followed. Steve was moving rapidly now, the way he’d avoided before, and yet he wasn’t the one moving at all. He was on his knees, erect cock in front of him, slamming Natasha’s body forward and back like the world’s best top-of-the-line fleshlight.

The smacks of their flesh coming together rang out multiple times a second. Natasha’s hair bobbed and flew in every direction, groans emanating from the ginger mop. Sweat decorated Steve’s skin, but fatigue was still a long way from slowing him down.

He remembered something from Natasha’s file, a detail he’d glossed over at the time but that seemed real important now. Whatever program had raised her, they messed with her body. No matter how many nights she spent with a man, no matter what they did, she could never get pregnant. So maybe it wasn’t all that surprising when she gasped, “Do it inside!”

The most surprising thing was that she could tell how close he was.

Five more times, Steve smashed her hips against his. He kept the best cadence for himself, using Nat’s body like a prop. Then he came— deep inside, just as asked.

Steve held Natasha close until he’d fired everything he could muster. He felt spent. He let go of her hips, letting her drop bonelessly to the floor, before laying back himself. They stayed there, tight to the mats, panting.

It was at least five minutes before either of them spoke.

“You cheated,” Nat said, turning to look at him with one cheek still to the floor. 

“Yeah?” Steve said. “How?” 

“Haven’t figured that out yet,” she admitted. “But as soon as I do, I’m getting a rematch. You can count on that”

Steve rolled over, delivering one final spank to her raw ass. Nat moaned as it jiggled and roiled. 

“You’re free to try anytime,” he said.

Nat’s eyes drifted shut. For that night, by necessity, it seemed she planned to sleep right there on his floor.

“Exactly what I wanted to hear,” she mumbled.

And just like that, she was out.