Captain America's Vision, Part Four

Beauxbatons

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“That was even better than I imagined.” Captain America sighed, a deep, satisfied sound. He lay, limbs entangled with Vision’s, blissfully content.
“Steve?”
“The moment I laid eyes on that gorgeous cock of yours, I just knew I had to feel it in my hands… my mouth… my ass. It was actually kind of scary, how much I wanted it.”
“And now, Steve Rogers—is your desire satiated?” As he asked, Vision slid his hand down Cap’s thigh, grasping the hero’s spent cock firmly.
“Um—that is, yeah, yeah, I’m good now…” Steve trailed off. Instantly, his thick sex gave the lie to his words, coming to life once more in the android’s clutch.
“It seems that your capacity has not yet been exhausted, Steve Rogers. And to think, people call me a machine.”
“Thanks to Dr. Erskine’s magic potion, I just keep going and going.”
Vision leaned in, breath tickling Steve’s sensitive ears, and whispered. “You may take me if you wish, Steve Rogers.”
“Vision, you saucy minx,” Steve said, incredulous.
“However, it appears that we have consumed the entire supply of lubricant.”
“Oh,” Steve replied with a wolfish grin, “I imagine we can make ‘plan B’ work. Just roll over.”
Vision did so obediently, not seeming to mind the sticky mess they had made of the examination table. In one fluid motion, Steve straddled the supine android, tenderly planting kisses on the other’s neck and ears.
“Where science fails, nature provides,” Cap said cryptically, sliding the length of his sweat-slick body down Vision, fingertips and lips and teeth making a trail as he went. Soon, he reached the graceful curve of Vision’s buttocks, gently caressing them.
“Does it hurt very much?” came Vision’s muffled query.
“Let me put it this way: just now, I felt like I was being torn in half—lengthwise.”
“I am sorry, Steve Rogers.”
“Sorry? What the hell for? I loved every fucking minute of it!”
“I am confused…”
“You’ll see soon enough. Don’t worry, though, lover, I’ll be gentle—unless you ask nicely, of course. But first, ‘I must prepare you,’ as a certain robot I know says.” With that, Steve gently parted Vision’s ample cheeks, revealing a nether opening that, while as devoid of color as the rest of the synthetic Avenger, was nevertheless anatomically perfect. Questing, Steve sent his tongue darting into the cleft, drawing a low moan from Vision.
Amazing, Steve thought. Realistic down to the last detail. Even the taste, he mused, savoring the unique salty-sweet pungency. His tongue went further, probing, exploring the innermost recesses of the groaning Vision.
“Oh, Steve,” Vision exclaimed, “I now see why there are so many nerve endings in that part of the anatomy.”
“Baby,” Steve answered, briefly surfacing for air, “you ain’t seen nothing yet!” He returned to his task with renewed vigor, using fingertips and tongue to explore and expand, readying him for the next step, until Vision’s secret opening was wet with saliva and quivering in anticipation.
“I think you’re ready now,” Steve purred. He spit once, twice, three times into the palm of his hand, slathering his once-more throbbing, darkly purple sex with the product. Playfully, he slapped his cock against each of Vision’s firm buttocks before easing in.
The tight heat enveloped Steve’s rigid sex more closely than any glove; as one, Vision and Captain America cried out wordlessly.
My god, Steve mused, barely able to think. It’s as if he was made just for me! Steve was transported to a place where nothing existed, nothing except his burning, desperate desire and the synthetic man who represented the fulfillment.
Promise to be gentle instantly forgotten, Captain America savagely galloped the prone Vision beneath him, grunting in time with each brutal thrust, Vision moaning continuously.
“Steve, please…”
Cap grabbed Vision about the waist and roughly flipped him over. He then grasped Vision’s engorged sex, pumping it in time with the punishing thrusts, which never ceased during the position change.
“Uh… this—huh… is gentle?” Vision gasped.
“I-I’m sorry, my friend. I don’t know what came over me.”
“No—‘For the love of god, don’t stop now; keep doing what you were doing, only harder, faster,’ as a certain human I know says.”
Steve slid in and out of the tight heat faster and faster, fisted Vision’s exquisitely huge cock faster and faster, until he was seeing stars, breath coming in labored, ragged gasps. He could contain himself no longer.
Withdrawing reluctantly from the velvet sheath, Cap stroked his organ once, twice, then convulsed, sending a long jet of his hot seed across Vision’s abdomen. A split second later, Vision’s sex danced in Steve’s iron grip, firing several spurts of synthetic juices an impossible height, most of it landing on Cap’s sculpted pectorals and ruggedly handsome face.
“I’ll be damned,” Steve moaned, slumping forward, “you managed to jizz in my hair again. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing it on purpose.”
“That is most illogical, Steve Rogers.”
“Well, all I know is that I’ve never needed a shower so badly in my life. I can’t exactly go wandering around the Mansion like this, though.”
“This laboratory is equipped with several amenities, including a shower.”
“Great! Is it big enough for two?”
“I believe so—“
“Then what are you waiting for? Come on!” Taking Vision’s curiously human hand in his, Steve walked toward the bathroom on wobbly legs.

 

Beauxbatons

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This was an entirely new experience for Cap. Though he had had many sexual partners over the years, never had he stayed afterward for longer than the time it took to hastily pull his clothes back on and head for the nearest exit (a window as often as not). Now, as he stood under the steaming jets of water lathering Vision’s back, he wondered what was different.
The two explored every inch of one another’s bodies as they soaped each other. As if by magnetic force, their mouths collided, and they kissed passionately, greedily, even as they cleaned up the effluvia of their earlier escapades. Impossibly, Cap’s beautiful cut cock stiffened yet again, causing Vision to stroke him at an incredible pace, bringing the Avenger off in mere moments.
“We will never become clean again at this rate, Steve Rogers.”
“Sorry,” Cap replied sheepishly.
Steve stepped out of the shower, toweling himself, and watched as Vision became momentarily intangible, causing the water that had been clinging to his synthetic skin to drop to the floor.
“You didn’t need to take a shower at all, did you?” Steve queried.
“That depends upon how you define ‘need,’ Steve Rogers. If the question is ‘Did I need the soap and water to remove our ejaculate from my body,’ then no, I did not. However, were you to cast your inquiry in different terms… such as ‘Did I need to remain close to you, to experience the sensation of showering with you,’ then yes, I did ‘need’ to take a shower.”
“Um,” Steve stammered, suddenly crimson, “is there anything around here that I can wear back to my room? My costume is definitely out of commission for a while.”
“I will clean your suit and return it to you. In the meantime, Dr. Pym left a few articles of clothing behind when he moved out of this workspace. Perhaps you will find something that will meet your need in that drawer,” Vision said, pointing across the room.
Rummaging through the drawer, Cap turned up a white t-shirt, a pair of gray jersey-knit gym shorts, and some serviceable white briefs. “Everything’s a size or so too small, but I guess it’ll have to do,” Steve muttered.
“Tell me, Steve Rogers, why are you so reluctant to remove your Captain America costume?”
“Huh?”
“Before today, I have never seen you attired in anything else. Even in the midst of our encounter, you seemed almost afraid to remove the garment.”
“I don’t know, Vision… I never really thought much about it, but I guess you’re right—I do wear the Cap outfit a lot.”
“I have a theory, Steve Rogers. For some reason, you are more comfortable with your alter-ego than with your own identity. What I am curious about is why.”
“In a sense, I’ve been Captain America for a lot longer than I was just Steve Rogers. The day I took the Super Soldier Serum, Steve Rogers kind of… died. Besides, everyone that I knew, everyone from my old life, is dead and gone now, yet here I am, still in the prime of life. It’s just… weird.”
“Fascinating.”
“Look, I’d really rather not talk about this, if that’s okay.”
“As you wish, Steve Rogers.”
“Well, let’s see if any of this stuff fits.” Cap pulled the t-shirt on first, material stretching so tightly across his muscled frame that it became transparent. Next, he struggled the briefs up over his hips. “I don’t even remember the last time I had a pair of tighty-whities,” Steve mused. The borrowed t-shirt billowed on him in comparison to the way the briefs clung lovingly to his every curve.
“I kind of like this,” Steve said, running one hand over the ample cotton-covered bulge between his legs. “Hey, Vision, I think I have a package for you—special delivery. I’m gonna need you to come and sign for it.”
“I am sorry, but you must mark that package ‘Return to Sender.’ Any further sexual activity today could cause you physical harm, Steve Rogers.”
Cap knew that Vision was right, but he couldn’t help himself—he had always had a fascination, perhaps bordering on fetish, with underwear. The feel of the unfamiliar garment against his skin, the image reflected in the mirror of the impressive way he filled the humble briefs out, even the thought that their owner, the admittedly handsome Henry Pym, may have recently worn them, all served to ignite his passions once again, and soon his massive erection was straining fitfully against the purloined undergarment.
Steve lowered the waistband ever so slightly, and his sex popped free, waving expectantly. “Last call,” Steve joked. “Are you sure you don’t want to…?” Vision remained impassive, watching Steve with a neutral expression.
“Okay, then, your loss.” Turning back to the mirror, Steve masturbated furiously into the sink, Vision watching closely but saying nothing. This time, after many long minutes, the release came quietly, suffusing his body with a golden glow.
“Now I need a nap,” Steve commented, washing up. “Six times in two hours… that’s gotta be some kind of record around here—well, except for Tony, maybe.”
“I shall ask him when next we talk, Steve.” Vision’s expression never changed as he watched the bright red glow flood through Captain America’s features.

To be continued…
 
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Beauxbatons

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LOVE the stories. If I may make a suggestion, I would like to see other Marvel characters introduced. I enjoy your writting style, and I'd love to see what you'd do with more characters in the mix. Keep 'em coming!

Thank you so much!

I will do have an idea for a "crossover special" in the works... I just wanted to let this story arc run for a bit first, to see where it goes...