Showing Initiative Chapter 6

Karla Sofen, once Moonstone, now Ms. Marvel, observed herself in the mirrored glass that separated Avengers Tower from the outside world. She wasn’t as lushly voluptuous or firmly muscular as so many women in the business, but she was long, lean, and toned, over six feet tall, with pert breasts and a narrow face and slender fingers all contributing to her whipcord physique. Two scraps of swimwear modestly covered her hips and bust, but showed off her towering legs and trimly muscled arms. Her golden hair was also unbound, coming down to her shoulders, and her fair complexion gleamed, a true honey blonde, almost as pale a shade as the yellow moon from which she’d taken her old name. Karla smiled at herself. She enjoyed not being some outrageously proportioned blonde bombshell. Let people underestimate her, think they could break her, snap her like a twig, in bed or on the battlefield. It made it all the easier, and more pleasurable, for her to break them on the inside. Where it hurt so much more deliciously.

She keyed the control pad next to the ‘mirror’ and it turned translucent as it slid open, letting her out onto the rooftop of Avengers Tower, where the pool was almost entirely safe from prying eyes. And if anyone managed to get a peep at her up here, well, let them. She certainly had nothing to hide. Not now that she was ‘Ms. Marvel.’

However, as the one-way glass slid aside to let in the light from outside, it also let in the gentle splashing of water. Someone was already in the pool.

Karla’s smile broadened as she stepped out. She wondered who it would be. A female that she could intimidate with her perfectly lithe body, or a male that she could tantalize with the same? As it turned out, both. 

Karla walked across the cool tiles of the pool area, seeing the water held the team’s new recruits, Scott Summers and his blue girl. They swam around each other in circles, like two sharks getting ready to eat one another. They splashed each other, laughed, kissed, taking no notice of Karla as she walked over to one of the chaise lounges flanking the pool, lying down on it, the sun gleaming off of the tanning oil she had covered herself with. They didn’t even look when Karla undid the ties on her bikini top and pulled it out of the way to get an all-over tan. But then, Mystique was naked too, as Karla realized when she saw Scott lift a blue tit out of the water in his hand and suck the nipple hungrily. 

Obviously they hadn’t been expecting company. A smile crossed Karla’s face. It was good to see them making themselves at home so… thoroughly. She decided the momentary pleasure of interrupting them would be nowhere near as fun as watching them. Linking her hands behind her head, Karla basked in the sunlight on her bare body, while watching the little floorshow. Still as a statue. Nothing to keep them from seeing her but how absorbed they were in each other.

It was only when Scott got out of the pool that Karla was put in danger of giving herself away. Scott was as naked as Mystique was. And hanging between his legs was the thickest, longest prick that Karla had ever seen. She gasped out loud when she saw it, quickly covering her mouth with her hand as if that could undo her gaffe. My God, no wonder they call him Cyclops. And no wonder Norman made him team leader.

But no, she doubted Norman had any idea how well-endowed Scott was, even with all that ginger fuck’s manipulations and secretkeeping. If he’d known Scott was hung like that, there was no way he would’ve dared give him such a platform as being Captain America. Norman’s fragile ego couldn’t take having such a man’s man in competition with him. God, and Osborn obsessed over that little blonde he’d killed a million years ago? Scott could’ve had ten of her with a prick like that.

Karla couldn’t take her eyes off it. Or the rest of Scott’s physique, for that matter. She’d seen pictures of him, news footage, but he was always so closed off, covered from head to toe in body armor or business suits or business-casual, for God’s sake. Seeing him naked was like seeing him through different eyes. She realized as if for the first time just how well-built he was, his musculature chiseled to match the potent member he sported, all of him a weapon, built both for fighting and for fucking. He was a man, and Mystique not only knew it, she was clearly relishing the knowledge like it was her naughty little secret.

They were still talking to each other, but Karla was too far away to hear what was being said. But from the way they were groping each other, she could tell it must’ve been filthy. Her blood sped through her veins and her womanhood grew wet, tingly, as she continued to watch behind the dark mirrors of her sunglasses. 

She saw Scott take a rolled-up towel and spread it out on poolside. Mystique lay down on it, her back darkening the fabric with its wetness. She spread her legs and reached out her arms to him. Scott lay down on top of her, squeezing her breasts, kissing her lips. Mystique’s head tossed about feverishly, forcing him to catch her face and make her kiss him. She whimpered and mewled loud enough for Karla to hear.

“Feel my cock,” Scott commanded, so clearly that Karla could hear that too.

Mystique reached out and clutched his prick in her hand, trying to draw it to her cunt. She wiggled her hips into place as she positioned herself for the thrust that would send his swollen length deep into her snatch. If the procedure was meant to make it easier on her, it didn’t work. When Scott slid into her, she let out a howl of pained pleasure—clearly not being loose enough to take all of his manhood with any amount of ease. But Karla didn’t know what woman could.

They clasped each other and fucked furiously. Scott clearly loved fucking her. And he wasn’t the only one enjoying it. Under him, Mystique was writhing, pumping her hips to the rhythm he set. As his hips came down, bearing his erection deep into her sex, she lifted her lower body and met him halfway. Perfectly obedient. Karla could only think that she was just as loyal in carrying out his orders in the field. 

But as he drove into her, Mystique swarmed over Scott with her hands and lips, kissing him ardently and groping the firm muscles, once covered in pool water, now becoming sheathed in sweat. Not just submissive, but enthusiastic. Passionate. Scott hadn’t just made her his bitch—he had found a nymphomaniac who could only be satisfied by that prodigious cock of his.

Karla realized she had to leave. The momentary laugh of letting them find out she’d watched them at play was nothing next to the thrills she could get if free to manipulate events on her own terms. She couldn’t risk biasing them against her. Quickly, she went back inside, fortunate that Scott and Mystique were just as enthralled with each other now as when she’d first laid eyes on them. 

She went back into her own room, locking her door, taking off the libertine bikini that now felt far too tight and clingy, and laid down on her bed. Thinking of how they’d fucked. Thinking of the size of Scott’s cock. She was flushed with heat, as if the sunlight’s crisp warmth had gone far deeper into her body than just her skin. The shame was equally bright. She’d wanted a man and not had him—she should’ve snatched him away from Mystique like a choice parking space, but she’d allowed herself to become flustered. And now her cunt was wet, her belly tight—she refused to masturbate. It would only make things worse.

But it took her a long time for the memory of what she had seen to give way to sleep.