0 comments/ 6454 views/ 6 favorites Peggy's Girl, Meet Peggy's Man By: Zev95 It was a lovely evening, a lovely dinner, until the radio station stopped playing music and switched to the adventure hour instead. Thrilling adventures with Captain America and Betty. Just the sort of thing to put Peggy in a foul mood that even Angie couldn't quite lift. It wouldn't be for lack of trying, though. Peggy kept staring at her plate of spaghetti as Angie got up, not even noticing until Angie was behind her, wrapping her arms under Peggy's armpits and hoisting her up. "Angie, what on earth—" "Shush. You can brood on your own time. You know how many weekends I get off this early, goin' straight from slaving over a hot stove at work to slaving over a hot stove here, just so you can have a home-cooked meal?" Peggy, as always, seemed both fond of and bewildered by Angie's stream of verbiage. "It was a scrumptious meal," she said, brushing Angie's arms away, but not before Angie had successfully deposited her in an armchair looking out from the room's northeast corner. With Peggy seated, Angie leaned over her, hands steepled on the armrests. "You wanna tell me what's bothering you or should I scare you with how mysteriously accurate my guess is?" Peggy's expression was abashed, a look she only let steal onto her face when she was with Angie. No poker face for the waitress. "Well, if I've ruined dinner, I can at least tell you the truth. The silly, irrational truth." "Silly and irrational. My specialties." "It's Steve." Peggy gazed at the radio as if she almost wanted to turn it back on. Sometimes the actor they'd gotten did almost sound like Steve, when his lines weren't too corny. "I can't help feeling sometimes as though I robbed him. Surviving, and having this life, when he had so little—lost so much." "Hey, you sacrificed plenty, sister." Angie dropped herself in Peggy's lap. "And if he's half the guy you told me about, he'd be just as broken up by you having to go without him as he'd be about... leaving." Angie crossed her legs, putting her knees across the leg of Peggy's she wasn't perched on. She fit neatly atop of Peggy. "I know, I know. You wanted to be the gal sitting on Captain America's lap—" "That's not what I wanted to do with his lap," Peggy said, before immediately regretting her phrasing. It was something about American English—everything had some smutty meaning, as evidenced by how Angie's eyes lit up. "Getting a little frisky there, are ya, English?" Angie teasingly racked her chin. "Like I was saying, maybe you can't sit on Cap's lap, but I can sit on yours. That ain't so bad, is it?" "Well... not when you throw in a home-cooked meal," Peggy replied widely. Angie's smile brightened like the Sunset Strip. "That's what you get for dating an Italian woman. We get you hooked on the food, then you have to put up with us. How my mom got my pop." "Indeed," Peggy muttered. "Whereas the English just seduce our prey with our sophisticated manners and elegant aesthetic." "Yeah, I think your aesthetic's just about ready for me," Angie said, already breathing hard, as her hand tucked under Peggy's skirt. She toyed with the trim hair she found there, running her fingers through it to watch just how lustful Peggy's expression could go, then cupping Peggy's labia and squeezing with just barely not enough pressure. "How's that feel?" "Like your linguini tastes." Peggy allowed herself a smile at her own quip—keep Angie guessing—but suddenly she tensed with a gasp, her knees spreading wider, her back arching almost enough to buck Angie from her interesting position. "Okay, keep doing that," Peggy now urged. "That, I like!" "Just one more thing you like about me," Angie sighed, playing bored. "There's just no variety with you." Her fingertips now coated with Peggy's wetness, Angie felt invited, begged, to slide them actually inside of Peggy, who wiggled and squirmed with every little bit she took. Angie probed deeply, watching her lover's face—even Peggy seemed surprised by how thoroughly Angie was able to explore with her pussy clenching, squeezing down with every ragged breath she took. Her clit quivered faintly at the crest of her spread thighs; Angie touched it lightly with the nail of her thumb. Peggy's slender hips twisted, as if they were wrenching out the moan she was releasing. When she closed her eyes, Angie took it as a surrender. "Here's what I think we should do. I'm gonna make you come. Then I'm gonna take off my clothes. Then we'll get onto the bed and see about you paying me back for that 'scrumptious' meal." "You waiters—" Peggy moaned. "Always angling for a tip..." Then she trailed off, a broken sigh as Angie centered her attention on Peggy's clit. Her middle and ring finger were inside Peggy, gently stirring the pot as her forefinger and pinky rubbed at the skin outside Peggy's core. But her thumb did the real work, massaging Peggy's clit until she was drenched with sweat, shuddering uncontrollably. Angie felt like she was touching herself, she was so turned on. As she fingered Peggy, her other hand frantically unbuttoned her dress. Peggy didn't wait. Before Angie had it all the way unbuttoned, her hand was under Angie's skirt, playing the garters of her stockings like violin strings, then going straight for Angie's panties. "Oh gosh!" Angie exclaimed. With Peggy's finger inside her, she felt like she was all jelly. "Gosh, Peg, you don't kid around..." "I think we should go to the bed right now," Peggy said, once more in charge. "And then we'll both come." "That sounds fine..." Angie said dreamily, unable to focus on anything but Peggy's callused finger claiming her sex. Peggy easily picked her up, hoisting her to the bed, and as Peggy carried her, Angie brought her wet fingers to her mouth. Sucked them dry. "So," Peggy said. "How does one Margaret Beatrix Carter pair with a serving of spaghetti and meatballs?" Angie tucked her head against Peggy's shoulder. "You're no white wine, but you'll do." Peggy sighed. Howard's apartment was going to make a snob of Angie yet. She stopped at the foot of the bed, Angie still held tightly in her arms, and she gave the girl a firm kiss, something that Angie never minded—though she did get a bit snippy when Peggy was nibbling her ear. "Not that your lipstick doesn't look good all over my earring, Peg, but we are going to get to the, y'know, 'unmentionables' soon?" "Well, now that you mention it..." Peggy dumped Angie on the bed, the waitress giving a little shriek as the mattress bounced her. She protested even more shrilly as Peggy pulled her around, orienting her with her head at the foot of the bed and her feet pointed at the pillows. "You manhandle me more than the men, you know that?" Even upside-down, Peggy had no problem helping Angie out of her clothes. "It's all the energy your cooking gives me. So much iron I could lift a tank." Peggy looked down at Angie naked. She loved the gamine body, the coltish limbs that led inexorably to the surprisingly large, sensual breasts that appeared when she dispensed with her conservative brassiere. Peggy leaned over, reaching down to plant her fingertips on Angie's flat belly, than drawing her nails up the perfect skin, raking all of Angie's body all the way to her face, where she lightly touched Angie's lips and closed eyes before finishing with a brush through her soft hair. Angie kept her eyes closed, anticipating another tour of her naked body with a dreamy look on her face. But Peggy was in no mood for still more foreplay. Angie had heated her up like no one else could, touching her there, and now, though she could force herself to appreciate the wonderful creature she'd ended up with, she also had to have her. Quickly removing her panties, but allowing the dress to remain, Peggy crawled onto the bed, parallel to Angie as she padded on all fours down to her friend's bared sex. "Of everything on the menu tonight," Peggy opined, "I would have to say this has the most appetizing aroma." Angie groaned. "You know, sometimes English, I think the only romantic bone in your body is having that accent, because otherwise, you can be a grade-A clod!" "What? Isn't that just what Clark Gable would say? Spread your legs so I can have you." Angie shuddered. "Oh, you know you don't need to ask to have me—" With both of them on their sides, Peggy nuzzled her head between Angie's thighs, at the same time opening her legs for Angie to burrow into her crotch—though not before Angie felt the need to comment on the dart of Peggy's tongue against her. "God, you know just the right spot!" Then Angie's head disappeared under Peggy's skirt, mouth finding her wet pussy like they were two magnets. Her moist tongue played at Peggy's slit, repeatedly working her way up to Peggy's quivering clitoris, where she finished the operation with a playful little suck that never failed to make Peggy gasp. Though not as vocally as Angie did. "Oh, your tongue!" Angie enthused, thrusting her naked hips as desperately into Peggy's face as Peggy licked at her. "Drives me wild, that tongue of yours! Makes me want to—ohhhh!" "You're not so bad yourself," Peggy replied, her hands around Angie's supple ass. She dug her fingers into the soft cheeks, pulling the woman's throbbing sex even tighter to her tongue. "You taste so good, Ang—even better than you smell..." As if in response, Angie tightened her firm thighs around Peggy's head, feeling the agent's soft brown locks traipse over Angie's legs as she stabbed her tongue inside. Peggy herself locked Angie's sucking mouth to her cunt, pumping her hips onto the tongue that lashed her with mounting eagerness. But even in the midst of so much pleasure, Angie couldn't resist using her mouth for more than just kissing and sucking, even at Peggy. "Your tongue's going so deep!" she moaned. "I can feel it everywhere! My clit, get my clit, make me come with your tongue on my—" Angie's smell strong in her nostrils, her words loud in her ears, Peggy forced her tongue deep into the trembling woman's sex. Angie's pleasure poured from her, drenching Peggy's lips with its slickness, but that only made Peggy go deeper. She wanted more. Right from the source... Angie's moans were only growing louder. If they were still in the Griffin, the whole floor would have woken by now. "It won't take much more to make me come!" Her voice was muffled by Peggy's sex. That didn't do much to make it seem any quieter. "Oh cripes, I'm tingling all over!" Whatever else she had to say was lost in a long moan directed entirely into Peggy's cunt, her thighs pulling taut around Peggy's head, bracing herself as her climax hit her like a train. Her shapely hips gyrated wildly, forcing her pussy into Peggy's face like she wanted to keep it there, feeling this way, forever. "Oh God, I'm coming my beaver off!" Angie gasped, her whole body rigid, metal, red-hot metal that would never cool. "Suck me, Peg! Suck me while I'm coming!" Angie squirmed like a livewire, still sucking frantically at Peggy's clit, determined to make Peggy feel just as good. Just as she thought her come couldn't get any better, Peggy stiffened with a sharp cry, digging her nails into Angie's ass, pulling the girl's hips desperately to her face. "Uhhh!" Angie panted. "Shove your tongue all the way in! Deeper! I want my clit down your throat!" They pumped their bodies into each other's pleasure with jerky thrusts, each one's mouths pulling wetly at the other's cunt as they squirmed together, wiggled together. Peggy straightened her long legs out behind Angie's head, crossing her knees to squeeze her thighs tightly—forcing Angie to remain on task without the color commentary. "I love having your mouth on my cunt," she gritted out, making Angie swoon. Something about that sweet voice talking dirty made Angie wetter than all the sex in the world. After much groaning and thrashing, the two were finally done. They relaxed muscle by muscle, resting their heads on each other's calves without the energy to reorient themselves. "Nobody's ever eaten me that way, that good," Angie said, cuddling up to Peggy's long, stockinged leg. "You're like a vacuum cleaner or something!" "I'd like to think I have a little more technique than that," Peggy replied. "But I'm glad you liked it as well." Besotted as they were with each other, they couldn't help but notice the man who suddenly peeked through the door as if he were investigating a crime scene. He was wearing some sort of uniform, though none either woman was familiar with; it was tattered and torn in a way Peggy was all too familiar with. Judging from the pattern of the grit on his face, the costume usually went with a helmet and mask, but not presently. Underneath the grime, he was a tall, well-built man, with crisp blond hair and an expression of utmost disbelief. "Peggy—" he said, cramming a universe of longing into a single name. "Steve?" Peggy replied, somehow able to dwarf his pain with her own. Then he noticed Angie on the bed. She had not yet dressed. "Are you undercover?" Steve asked, completely bewildered. "She was about to be, jerk!" Angie yelled. *** If Peggy didn't pride herself on her control, she at least took it for granted. She simply did not become emotional. Never had. She felt things, certainly, but they tended to have no more effect on her than the moon's gravity. She'd come perilously close to being overwhelmed at times—her mind turning traitor, dragging her into a past she couldn't change instead of letting her stay in the present that she could. But she'd never gone over. Sorrow couldn't do that to her. Only happiness could. Happiness, disbelief, doubt, relief—it seemed a million different things, a million different ways that she could react to this, and there was no way for her to decide which one. She defaulted to fact. "You're dead," she told Steve, and he was always looking out for her, protecting her, telling her what had happened because he knew what a comfort it would be. "The plane went down in the ice, I froze, but my metabolism kept me going in a kind of stasis." He managed a lopsided grin, an acknowledgment of how ridiculous it was to be standing there, saying "When Erskine fixed me up, he wasn't kidding around. They found me, they woke me up—" "Who? Howard? Did he not tell me—" It seemed impossible. He wouldn't lie, not about this. However deceptive he might be, he couldn't keep this to himself. "No. SHIELD." "SHIELD? What the hell's that?" That pried his smile wider. "Trust me. You'll get used to the name. Peggy, they haven't done this—yet. They won't until 2012." "2012?" Angie asked suddenly, and Peggy couldn't be mad at her for interrupting. She doubted Angie could've physically remained silent for any longer. "Like... flying cars and day-trips to the moon?" Steve glanced at her. "Something like that. Could you... be wearing something? That's a little distracting." "What's the matter, you ain't no fan of the female form?" Steve forced himself to focus on Peggy. "We were raiding a HYDRA lab while they were in the middle of an experiment on time-dilation. Something went wrong when Stark blasted it, I got sent back here—" "Howard's there too?" If Howard was actually going to live another sixty years with his lifestyle, there was a lack of justice in the universe sterling enough to disprove God. "No. His son." "Stark has a kid?" Angie demanded, giving voice to an inner monologue Peggy was too polite to let out. "How's that a good idea?" "You've met him?" Steve asked Angie. "Of course you have, you're naked—" "Hey, this was a private party before you crashed!" And then Peggy realized, with an uncharacteristic horror that could only be owed to the circumstances, what this looked like—what this was. "Steve, you have to understand, Angie and I—" Steve seemed to realize in the same instant the source of her panic. "Don't worry, you've already told me about her—you're kinda a bisexual icon now." "I'm still alive in 2012?" Well, Peggy supposed it was good to know that dealing with the men of the SSR would not cause her head to explode any time soon. Her mind still seemed not her own, though—misfiring rather than treating any of this as real. "How have I aged?" "Great." "And me?" Angie asked. "You die of pneumonia," Steve told her, "probably from never wearing any clothes." Peggy found herself finally able to move. She forced herself up off the bed, examining Steve from a new angle. It was him. That dry, almost frustrated sense of humor—who else could it be? She picked up a tissue from the nightstand, licked it, went to him. Wiped at the smut that dirtied his face. His hair was cut differently. There was a tiny scar beside the orbit of his eye. And his eyes—they seemed to match hers. No longer innocent things, but with the longing, the regret that she'd found herself. He wasn't her Steve—the one she found in her dreams, the one she remembered. He was his own man, but he was here, with her. As impossible as the whole thing was—a trip to the future to pal around with Howard Stark's son—it had to be what had happened. What she was feeling couldn't be a lie. "You're here." "I'm here," Steve told her. Promised her. Abruptly, Angie was behind her, pulling Peggy's dress free of her with practiced ease. Just as suddenly as Steve had arrived, Peggy was in her brassiere and stockings, her lack of panties from Angie's earlier attentions now wholly evident. "Angie!" "What?" Angie asked, drawing away to hang the dress up in deference to Peggy's fastidiousness. "He's seen me naked. Only fair you have to put up with it too." "You wouldn't get dressed," Peggy reminded her, even as she felt Steve's eyes on her. He'd never seen her naked, and correcting the oversight felt wonderful for both of them. Under his watchful eye, Peggy undid her brassiere, giving that sight over to him as well. "You're alive," she said, as if that explained everything. It was funny—while this was one of the turning points in her relationship with Steve, it wasn't a defining moment. Looking back on it, Peggy would remember more Angie's reaction, how she handled it with such aplomb. Most people would write Angie off as the hysterical type, to become flustered and useless in an emergency, but crises just made Angie get a firmer handle on the situation. She saw how Steve cared about Peggy and how Peggy cared about him, and quickly came to a decision. "Hey!" she said, coming up to Steve as if he weren't half a foot taller than her and maybe half again as wide. "I get it, you want to start things up again with Peggy. My Peg. Well, that's fine with me. I'm not gonna break her heart by saying the two of you can't be together. But the two of us are a package deal!" Angie wrapped an arm around Peggy and pulled her close. Peggy made a soft noise at feeling her skin against Angie's. "You want her, you're getting me too! If you see her naked, you see me naked!" "That's..." Peggy hesitated. "Actually not a half-bad idea. I'm sure such arrangements are quite common in the future." "Yes," Steve said slowly. Well, he thought Tony had mentioned something like that once. And Thor, as well. Asgard counted as the future, right? "Then... all three of us?" Peggy asked, suddenly a little unclear on the concept. Wanting them all on the same page. "All at once?" Angie nodded. "It is really unfair that he's seen the two of us naked, and we haven't seen so much as his shirt off." "Oh, it's wonderful..." Peggy breathed. And she began to show Angie, pulling at the tunic of his uniform. It was slow-going, puzzling out how the costume worked, especially when they wouldn't let him help, but between the two of them, she and Angie soon had it off. Peggy's Girl, Meet Peggy's Man Angie felt a surge of excitement, quite unlike what she felt with Peggy, as she pulled away Steve's trousers and found a throbbing bulge fronting his underwear. The thought of it bared made her tingle with anticipation. She looked to Peggy and knew her lover only felt it more so. Suddenly, Steve was grabbing Peggy, pulling her to him. He wouldn't deny her the pleasure of undressing him, but then, it wasn't like he'd gotten to take her clothes off. He didn't think this was what any of them had foreseen in their future, but if he had anything to say about it, the future was changing. He kissed Peggy, not like he had before, the adrenaline rush, the sudden flaring need, the tinge of goodbye that would later bloom and become all she remembered. Now it was his presence, Steve announcing that he was here to stay, that this was forever, that they were eternal. Peggy melted into it, kissing him back as Angie had taught her. She'd loved Steve, but Angie had taught her how to love, and now she honored both of them, embracing Steve as she caressed Angie's hair, still thinking of her. As much as she was thinking. Her hand pressed Angie to her knees, and Angie was quick to embrace the intertwined legs of her lovers, old and new, kissing Peggy's hip and ass and thigh as she was crushed against Steve. Then she kissed Steve, his musk, his wiry body hair, the rippling muscle that covered him like a second armor. Not much like Peggy, but then, she didn't need anyone but Peggy. If she was going to have someone, he might as well give her some variety. Angie pulled at his briefs as he kept kissing Peggy, oblivious to her help in shrugging his clothes off, and she sucked in breath to see his cock head darting up against Peggy's body as soon as it was free, only kept from jutting out straight and true because Peggy was in the way. "Oh my," Peggy breathed. After months of being lovers with a woman, here was certainly a reintroduction to being with a man. "That's a lot to take in." "Ha!" Angie barked. "Keep on kissing him, sister. I'll handle my end..." "No," Peggy said, pushing Steve onto the bed mainly because he wanted to go there. He gave into her without thought and it was so damn refreshing... She got down on her knees, between his legs. "We'll take turns." She took his cock in her hand. When she squeezed it, there was barely any give. "I'll go first." While Angie watched in keen interest—she never really got to see Peggy doing her thing, too overcome when Peggy was doing it to her—Peggy lowered her face to Steve's cock and took it into her mouth, efficiently disassembling it. First sucking at the fleshy head, getting it nice and wet, then taking that deeper into her mouth and working her lips on the shaft, then the cockhead moved against her throat as she mouthed the halfway point of his cock. That seemed all she could take for now; she slurped on what she presently had between her lips while using a circled thumb and forefinger to tug at the base of his cock. Steve's head fell back, eyes closed, fists grabbing great handfuls of the bedspread. Angie giggled girlishly, seeing the mighty Captain America brought low by a little slip of an Englishwoman. "Good thing you've been dead. We're going to suck the life out of you all over again," she told him, patting Peggy's head in solidarity. Steve groaned and shivered. His grip on the sheets didn't do much to keep him upright. As Peggy devoured another few inches of his cock, he tilted back toward the mattress no matter how he strained to stay upright. Angie was barely able to contain herself with the sight before her—all of him straining and flexing as Peggy tormented him. But she didn't forget which side her bread was buttered on. She laid down behind Peggy, facing her out-thrust ass as the woman knelt before Steve, and crawled until her head was underneath Peggy. Peggy felt her pussy get licked from its bottom to its top. She didn't think it could get any hotter than it'd been, just having Steve in her mouth, but wiggling her hips down onto Angie's moist tongue made Peggy feel like she was coming already. She spread her knees wider, giving Angie more room to work, as her head bobbed even faster on Steve's cock. Angie matched her efforts, running her tongue over and under, lapping wetly at Peggy's cunt and following her dripping juices all the way to Peggy's asshole. She teased it with her tongue, smacked at Peggy's sensitive perineum with her tongue, not stopping until Peggy was shaking uncontrollably. Steve saw what was happening. He reached down, caressing Peggy's face, combing his fingers through her hair as she came. Sex with Angie was always good, but there was something downright blissful about being coddled by Steve's strong hands through her climax. And something perversely wonderful about having Steve's cock in her mouth besides. Finished, breathing too hard to have her mouth filled any longer, Peggy panted her way free of Steve. She kissed his hand, then looked down at Angie. "It's your turn." "My turn?" Angie raised an eyebrow. "He's your boyfriend." "Like you haven't wanted a go at him since you took his pants off. He's all yours, Ang. You have my blessing. Suck his todger." "Suck Rogers' todger," Angie said thoughtfully, playing with the nonsensical phrase as she traded places with Peggy, kneeling between his hairy legs as Peggy crouched behind her to watch. "Tell me how this feels," she told Steve before she took him into her mouth. Steve groaned, his toes curling, his fisting hands now ripping the mattress pad out from under the bed. "As good as your girlfriend's," he told Angie as his hips rose, his cock taking Angie's throat as easily as it had Peggy's. Angie hummed with the validation of his words to her. She was Peggy's girlfriend, he was Peggy's boyfriend—she guessed she was his girlfriend too, him and Peggy a package deal as much as the two women were. Well, it beat dating a woman with a cat! "Jack him off too, dear," Peggy said, kissing Angie's cheek and, through it, Steve's cock. Then she moved over, kissing Angie's neck, and for a wild moment Angie thought she was trying to make Steve feel it, but then Peggy was kissing down her back, her spine, her tailbone, her ass, and only Angie felt it as Peggy's wet tongue slithered along her crevice, poked at her tightness till it throbbed, licked feverishly to get inside. Angie sucked and licked at Steve just as assiduously. The only part of his cock that escaped was that covered by her jerking hand, while her other either reached back to stroke at Peggy's hair, her shoulder, or came back around to gently squeeze Steve's balls. She pulled at Steve's cock furiously, knowing she was pleasing Peggy as much as Steve. With both women blowing him, he would come soon, and if he was going to come, she wanted to be the one to get it. Her cheeks sucked in, her tongue scrubbed at his shaft. Steve groaned as he sat up, bending over her to cradle her head in his lap while he looked down to see Peggy eating Angie's ass. He stroked Angie's scalp as his eyes met Peggy's. "Fingerfuck her," he said. "She's paying way too much attention to my cock." Peggy's eyes narrowed. She slid her hand up the inside of Angie's soft thigh, found her pussy, squeezed it. Angie moaned, too distracted to suck, and that was just fine with Peggy. She introduced her fingers to Angie's cunt and for her, Angie throbbed and tingled. "Fingerfuck? Cock?" Peggy asked playfully. "Do you recite the Pledge of Allegiance with that mouth?" "Everyone talks like that in the future," Steve told her. "At least from what I've seen." "Seen?" Angie asked, now just rubbing her face against his shaft as she enjoyed Peggy's attention. Steve wondered how he could break the existence of Pornhub to two proto-feminists. "It's a long story. Maybe later?" Peggy slapped Angie's ass. Back to work. Angie dragged herself off Steve, dug her teeth into his foreskin, pulling it a little ways from his thrumming head, Steve groaning appreciatively, before letting it spring back. "I don't know how they make babies in the future—probably in test tubes—but right now, I want you to shoot your rocks down my throat. I wanna taste your cum. I want it!" Steve was shaking violently, sixty years of need and longing and instinct and passion rising to the surface of him. His hips pumped, his cock jabbing demandingly into Angie's throat. He writhed before her, every muscle standing out of his clear skin as his cock conquered her sucking throat. "I'm close!" Steve gasped, Angie's eyes all over him, on every drop of sweat that consumed his perfect body. "You keep sucking me off, I'll come in your mouth!" Angie nodded enthusiastically. That sounded just fine to her. Peggy had her fingers deep in Angie's cunt, her tongue speared into Angie's tight ass when she heard. Her mouth slid away, coming up to Angie's ear while her fingers kept at the girl's sex. "I do believe it's my turn again." By now, Angie was using both hands to jerk Steve off. She needed them. "He's about to come—just let me finish! I want to taste his cum!" And she was right back to mouthing Steve's hard prick, clamping her lips around his pulsing shaft with no desire to give it up. Steve's hand collared her wavy hair, pulling her up off him no matter how distressedly she moaned. His other hand caressed Peggy's face until Angie was off, then ushered her down to blow him. "Fair's fair," he moaned gently. "Everyone gets a turn." He pressed their faces together, passing his stiff cock back and forth between them, allowing each only a few wet sucks before switching it. It was a friendly rivalry; each girl was frantically rubbing at the other's crotch as they sucked. "I love watching you suck," Angie gushed while it was Peggy's turn. A moment later, Peggy was hoisted away and the cock was offered to her. "But I love blowing him more." And while Angie had him between her soft lips, sucking with all her might, Peggy said "I think he's about ready to give us his cum." Angie let Peggy go at it again. "Share and share alike." "Almost-!" Steve gritted out. Peggy slurped her way off him, then nosed his cock over to Angie. It was right up against her lips as Angie went down on it. "I want you to taste him first." "I love you," Angie said, somewhat muffled by deep-throating a ten-inch dick at the moment. "I love you too," Peggy said, then leaned down to Steve's balls. "Both of you," she added, and her tongue licked over his churning nuts. A drawn-out moan was freed from Steve's lips as his spine arched, his lower body leaping off the bed. Angie got the first driving spurt of his cum. It jetted down her throat heatedly, but Angie didn't stop to savor it, pulling her mouth away, the creamy excess spilling from her lips as another bolt landed across her forehead. Then Peggy had his cock in her mouth, cheeks sucked in, head bobbing to prolong his orgasm, make him give her as much cum as possible. As soon as she had stuffed her mouth with all the cum she could, Peggy pulled away to swallow and Angie again took Steve's orgasm into her mouth. "I'm coming like a son of a bitch!" Steve yelled, cock jerking with all the cum pouring out of it. His hands were deadlocked in the two women's hair, his legs kicking at the air. "Suck it all out! Swallow all my cum!" Clinging cum wet all over their faces, running down their throats both inside and out, the women kept trading his cock between them, as insatiable for his seed as they were for their girlfriend to have it. Finally, his ejaculation trailed off, but the two barely noticed. Now they were kissing at each other, licking away one another's stains, tasting Steve on another's tongue as the man himself stretched out on the bed with one last sigh as his muscles went slack. But Peggy and Angie hadn't forgotten him. "I hope you left some room for dessert," Angie said, eying his cock. A drop of cum remained in his slit, more littering his cockhead. "This meal has leftovers." "He's all yours," Peggy said. "Oh, no. He's yours. You've waited long enough." Peggy didn't have to be told twice. She bent to return to Steve's cock. Steve's eyes shot open as Peggy began a thorough cleaning of his manhood. "I'm not sure there's anything left..." he faltered. "If there is," Angie smiled, "we'll find it." *** After they were quite satisfied the man had nothing left to give—after all, he had just been through heavy combat when he came to them—Angie got a bucket of warm water and a washcloth. Steve was content to lay there, his head in Peggy's lap, as Angie sponged him clean of both the battle damage and later messiness. Well, he tried begging her off, but Peggy insisted. They would still have to change the sheets in the morning, but for now, Angie felt him worthy of sleeping with Peggy. Steve cracked his neck one last time before settling fully onto his back, Peggy curled up to him, and Angie dragged the cover over the whole threesome as she snuggled up behind Peggy. "So what's the future like?" Peggy asked, a hand at her hip clasped with Angie's. "Terrible," Steve said. "You're barely in it." "Am I a famous actress?" Angie asked. "You don't win an Academy Award, but you do have your own Wikipedia page." Steve blinked. "And Armin Zola infiltrates the SSR, corrupts it into a half-HYDRA sleeper cell. We should do something about that before they kill Howard." He yawned. "And Bucky's still alive! In Russia! We need to rescue him." "In the morning," Peggy said. "Rest now. If nothing else, I at least want to know what it's like to wake up beside you one time before you're dashing off into danger again." "Before we're dashing off into danger again," he insisted. "I don't go anywhere without my best girl." "And her best girl," Angie piped in. "If you're going to Russia on another insane rescue mission, I can at least make the coffee." "She makes excellent coffee," Peggy confirmed. "It's really almost as good as Earl Grey." "You talk too much, English." "She's right," Steve said, wrapping an arm around Peggy to draw her head down to his chest. "You do." Shutting her eyes, Peggy resolved to say nothing more until morning. And with Steve's embrace feeling so peaceful, it was a promise that was easily kept. Angie had shown her how to sleep, cooled her down when nightmares burned hot inside her, but with Steve, she felt truly balanced. Something to dream about as well as something to wake up to. Someone to fight with her and someone to fight for her. And, apparently, the year 2012 to look forward to. Plenty of time to love both the amazing people her life had been graced with. She fell asleep, already planning a mission to Russia and ways to torment Howard Stark, New Father. Happiness was nothing new to her, not with Angie in her life, but contentment was something to get used to. So she did.