The Body Swap Clinic My Life Is Quite A Story
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MCU:Avengers: Hawkeye. free porn video
The Avenger known as Hawkeye executed a double somersault with a half twist, firing twice, vaulting from the wreckage of what had been a spinning flail arm and landing lightly on the balls of his feet, rolling sideways as the electrical pulse bolts from a wall gun-mount seared the space where he had landed. As he regained his feet, he spun, looking for the next threat as his hearing registered the two impacts of the explosive arrows he'd launched.
Nothing. Had he finished the training sequence?
Clint Barton wasn't like the other Avengers; he didn't have any super abilities. As an ordinary mortal fighting alongside Norse gods, an angry jade behemoth, a billionaire with a battlesuit, and someone who was transformed into the epitome of human development, he had to step up, and affirm to himself that he was worthy of the trust placed in him. Barton was an intelligence professional, and while he'd never admit it, he knew from experience that in the field that a weak link in the field could make the difference between life and death, and the Avengers often played for high stakes. Although he presented an arrogant and aggressive facade, he knew that he needed to be able to back up his bravado. None of the others doubted his worth, but only by hard work and constant training would Hawkeye be able to justify their faith in him.
One of the several sub-levels of the Avengers Mansion was a training facility, with ten settings of difficulty. Hawkeye had worked his way up from level one to level five, and had the bruises to prove it. One of the perks of being an Avenger was access to Tony Stark's fertile mind; while SHIELD had designed several rather nifty arrow payloads for Hawkeye during his tenure as a SHIELD special agent, they were nothing compared to what Stark had made for him. The Avengers training facility was self-repairing and adapting; it was directed by Stark's AI JARVIS, who had proven itself to be tactically superb at devising new and interesting challenges.
The lights dimmed, and Hawkeye tensed, scanning for threats until a voice came from the shadows.
"Hawkeye? Can I talk to you for a moment?"
Clint relaxed. He knew that voice well; Natasha Romanova, a.k.a. the Black Widow had been his partner at SHIELD for some time, until she had infiltrated Hydra under orders for Nick Fury and framed Hawkeye as a traitor. Ordinarily, that would have spelled a messy end to their relationship, but Hawkeye was an intelligence professional; he knew how murky things could get when duty conflicted with personal feelings first-hand.
After the Avengers had captured M.O.D.O.C. and Baron Von Strucker during their war over and amidst the streets of New York City, Hawkeye had covered for her, helping her escape SHIELD custody as she went underground once more, looking for Nick Fury to clear her name. They had shared a kiss before parting, and that kiss had left Hawkeye with more confused feelings than ever before.
He watched as she strode into view, the material of her trademark black catsuit gleaming as it caught the odd shafts of light. Whatever her other faults, the Black Widow was a knockout, with a strong, athletic body crowned by a glorious mass of deep red hair.
"Natash...." he began, but the Black Widow stepped forward into his arms, hushing him with a kiss. The kiss grew in passion and intensity, and Hawkeye found it hard to form his next sentence. As he leaned back and tried to speak, the Black Widow raised a finger to his lips.
"Talk later" she said, her hands running over his hard, muscular form. "Anything we need to say we can say later, maybe over dinner," she informed, and resumed their kiss. Natasha's tongue sought Clint's mouth, exploring with passion and a needful intensity. Her hands sought the buckles and catches of his uniform, gently lowering his quiver to the floor.
Bow, tunic, and headpiece joined his quiver in the pile. Hawkeye slowly unzipped the central zipper on the Black Widow's catsuit, kissing the pale skin that was slowly being revealed. Natasha herself unhooked her belt and her Widow's Sting wrist weapons, setting them next to Barton's own discards has Hawkeye's hands moved all over her body under the catsuit. Her nipples were already hard with desire, and Hawkeye lowered the catsuit down her shoulders so that he could worship her breasts with his lips and teeth, pulling and nipping. From Natasha's moans, Clint bit harder, sucking on the succulent flesh.
Natasha's hands moved lower on his body, undoing Hawkeye's trousers, caressing Clint's hard cock with her long, graceful fingers, stroking the shaft. With a grin, the Black Widow sunk to her knees, taking Clint's cock into her mouth. Hawkeye groaned as the Black Widow put years of practice and training to work; the "honey trap" was one of the oldest traps in the espionage game, and every Russian agent was well-trained in the arts of pleasure.
Clint was in heaven, and was pretty sure he hadn't died, which to his mind was a benefit; as in so many things, Natasha had clearly excelled in every faucet of her training. The Black Widow took just the head of Clint's cock into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive skin, while her hands pumped the shaft up and down. Clint groaned as many of his fantasies were coming true; he wasn't sure if he preferred Natasha to swallow his jism or if he wanted to pull out as he was cumming and come all over her face and neck... heck, maybe all over those perfect breasts.
Natasha almost made the decision for him when she sucked the entire length of Clint's cock into her mouth and throat. Clint's eyes rolled up into his head as he felt Natasha's throat muscles contract in ways he never knew were possible; unfortunately for Clint, SHIELD agents were never given the same training as their Russian counterparts, and the closest he could recall to these sensations was when he had still been with the carnival where he had learned his archery skills and been dating Verena The Sword Swallower.
Hawkeye could feel his orgasm approaching, and so could Natasha. Releasing Hawkeye and backing away, she removed her catsuit, moving her hands over her hips, pushing the material to her ankles and stepping backward out of it. Hawkeye's gaze was captivated by the perfection of her body, and noted that the carpet did indeed match the d****s, judging by the neatly-trimmed "landing strip" before his eyes. Natasha kicked her catsuit into their pile of personal effects as Hawkeye struggled with his boots.
Before he could turn, Natasha foot-swept Hawkeye to the ground, rolled him onto his back, and impaled her steamy mound onto his erect cock-spike. She rode him hard; clearly she was ready, and more than ready. It was not long before Natasha screamed her orgasm into the deepest recesses of the training hall, and immediately began to build towards another. The walls of her opening milked Hawkeye's cock like a machine, and each orgasm she experienced moved him closer and closer to his own.
Finally, Hawkeye could last no longer, and erupted, his hips bucking the Black Widow almost off her mount. Exhausted, Clint lay back as Natasha pulled the last of his jism from his softening cock with a shudder.
He was shocked as the Black Widow reared back up, and her coiled fist unleashed itself against Hawkeye's jaw. Clint felt consciousness leave him as JARVIS' artificial voice called out "Hawkeye neutralized - training sequence complete."
* * *
Hawkeye forced himself into Tony Stark's office at Stark International.
"What the hell, Stark? Getting Natasha to seduce me and then clock me one?" he yelled at Stark, who sat placidly behind his desk.
"Pepper, how did Hawkeye get in her?" Stark asked, looking past the Avenger archer to where Pepper Potts stood, an amused smirk on her face.
"After he explained what you did, I felt he - and you - deserved it," she replied, and closed the door to his office behind her.
"You're a great help," he murmured, turning slightly to face Hawkeye. "You're wrong, Clint. I didn't get Natasha to seduce you. That was an LMD."
"An LMD? You stole a Life Model Decoy from SHIELD to set me up?" Clint roared.
"The way you've been blowing through the training sequences?" Stark remarked. "If I hadn't thrown a curve your way - well, a couple of curves - you'd have finished your sprint to level ten, and then I'd have had to do some real work, designing more levels."
Hawkeye stood there, with his jaw dropped.
"Besides, you're the one always reminding us all what a professional you are; you don't think the bad guys are above a little dirty pool?" Stark explained. "Heck, the Enchantress alone has illusion and enchantment spells that would make the Black Widow seem like a Russian tractor operator - and you fell for a good, old-fashioned "honey trap" gambit? What happens if Whiplash comes on to you next, and offers you her ass in exchange for letting her go? Or Anaconda... oh wait. Never mind Anaconda."
Hawkeye calmed down.
"Fair enough, I suppose. But Stark, do me a favor? Pull the Black Widow from your LMD list, and put in someone I don't mind blowing up, like Madame Viper?" What Hawkeye thought but didn't add was "after I'm finished with her, anyways".
Training hard had just taken on a new meaning.
Nothing. Had he finished the training sequence?
Clint Barton wasn't like the other Avengers; he didn't have any super abilities. As an ordinary mortal fighting alongside Norse gods, an angry jade behemoth, a billionaire with a battlesuit, and someone who was transformed into the epitome of human development, he had to step up, and affirm to himself that he was worthy of the trust placed in him. Barton was an intelligence professional, and while he'd never admit it, he knew from experience that in the field that a weak link in the field could make the difference between life and death, and the Avengers often played for high stakes. Although he presented an arrogant and aggressive facade, he knew that he needed to be able to back up his bravado. None of the others doubted his worth, but only by hard work and constant training would Hawkeye be able to justify their faith in him.
One of the several sub-levels of the Avengers Mansion was a training facility, with ten settings of difficulty. Hawkeye had worked his way up from level one to level five, and had the bruises to prove it. One of the perks of being an Avenger was access to Tony Stark's fertile mind; while SHIELD had designed several rather nifty arrow payloads for Hawkeye during his tenure as a SHIELD special agent, they were nothing compared to what Stark had made for him. The Avengers training facility was self-repairing and adapting; it was directed by Stark's AI JARVIS, who had proven itself to be tactically superb at devising new and interesting challenges.
The lights dimmed, and Hawkeye tensed, scanning for threats until a voice came from the shadows.
"Hawkeye? Can I talk to you for a moment?"
Clint relaxed. He knew that voice well; Natasha Romanova, a.k.a. the Black Widow had been his partner at SHIELD for some time, until she had infiltrated Hydra under orders for Nick Fury and framed Hawkeye as a traitor. Ordinarily, that would have spelled a messy end to their relationship, but Hawkeye was an intelligence professional; he knew how murky things could get when duty conflicted with personal feelings first-hand.
After the Avengers had captured M.O.D.O.C. and Baron Von Strucker during their war over and amidst the streets of New York City, Hawkeye had covered for her, helping her escape SHIELD custody as she went underground once more, looking for Nick Fury to clear her name. They had shared a kiss before parting, and that kiss had left Hawkeye with more confused feelings than ever before.
He watched as she strode into view, the material of her trademark black catsuit gleaming as it caught the odd shafts of light. Whatever her other faults, the Black Widow was a knockout, with a strong, athletic body crowned by a glorious mass of deep red hair.
"Natash...." he began, but the Black Widow stepped forward into his arms, hushing him with a kiss. The kiss grew in passion and intensity, and Hawkeye found it hard to form his next sentence. As he leaned back and tried to speak, the Black Widow raised a finger to his lips.
"Talk later" she said, her hands running over his hard, muscular form. "Anything we need to say we can say later, maybe over dinner," she informed, and resumed their kiss. Natasha's tongue sought Clint's mouth, exploring with passion and a needful intensity. Her hands sought the buckles and catches of his uniform, gently lowering his quiver to the floor.
Bow, tunic, and headpiece joined his quiver in the pile. Hawkeye slowly unzipped the central zipper on the Black Widow's catsuit, kissing the pale skin that was slowly being revealed. Natasha herself unhooked her belt and her Widow's Sting wrist weapons, setting them next to Barton's own discards has Hawkeye's hands moved all over her body under the catsuit. Her nipples were already hard with desire, and Hawkeye lowered the catsuit down her shoulders so that he could worship her breasts with his lips and teeth, pulling and nipping. From Natasha's moans, Clint bit harder, sucking on the succulent flesh.
Natasha's hands moved lower on his body, undoing Hawkeye's trousers, caressing Clint's hard cock with her long, graceful fingers, stroking the shaft. With a grin, the Black Widow sunk to her knees, taking Clint's cock into her mouth. Hawkeye groaned as the Black Widow put years of practice and training to work; the "honey trap" was one of the oldest traps in the espionage game, and every Russian agent was well-trained in the arts of pleasure.
Clint was in heaven, and was pretty sure he hadn't died, which to his mind was a benefit; as in so many things, Natasha had clearly excelled in every faucet of her training. The Black Widow took just the head of Clint's cock into her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive skin, while her hands pumped the shaft up and down. Clint groaned as many of his fantasies were coming true; he wasn't sure if he preferred Natasha to swallow his jism or if he wanted to pull out as he was cumming and come all over her face and neck... heck, maybe all over those perfect breasts.
Natasha almost made the decision for him when she sucked the entire length of Clint's cock into her mouth and throat. Clint's eyes rolled up into his head as he felt Natasha's throat muscles contract in ways he never knew were possible; unfortunately for Clint, SHIELD agents were never given the same training as their Russian counterparts, and the closest he could recall to these sensations was when he had still been with the carnival where he had learned his archery skills and been dating Verena The Sword Swallower.
Hawkeye could feel his orgasm approaching, and so could Natasha. Releasing Hawkeye and backing away, she removed her catsuit, moving her hands over her hips, pushing the material to her ankles and stepping backward out of it. Hawkeye's gaze was captivated by the perfection of her body, and noted that the carpet did indeed match the d****s, judging by the neatly-trimmed "landing strip" before his eyes. Natasha kicked her catsuit into their pile of personal effects as Hawkeye struggled with his boots.
Before he could turn, Natasha foot-swept Hawkeye to the ground, rolled him onto his back, and impaled her steamy mound onto his erect cock-spike. She rode him hard; clearly she was ready, and more than ready. It was not long before Natasha screamed her orgasm into the deepest recesses of the training hall, and immediately began to build towards another. The walls of her opening milked Hawkeye's cock like a machine, and each orgasm she experienced moved him closer and closer to his own.
Finally, Hawkeye could last no longer, and erupted, his hips bucking the Black Widow almost off her mount. Exhausted, Clint lay back as Natasha pulled the last of his jism from his softening cock with a shudder.
He was shocked as the Black Widow reared back up, and her coiled fist unleashed itself against Hawkeye's jaw. Clint felt consciousness leave him as JARVIS' artificial voice called out "Hawkeye neutralized - training sequence complete."
* * *
Hawkeye forced himself into Tony Stark's office at Stark International.
"What the hell, Stark? Getting Natasha to seduce me and then clock me one?" he yelled at Stark, who sat placidly behind his desk.
"Pepper, how did Hawkeye get in her?" Stark asked, looking past the Avenger archer to where Pepper Potts stood, an amused smirk on her face.
"After he explained what you did, I felt he - and you - deserved it," she replied, and closed the door to his office behind her.
"You're a great help," he murmured, turning slightly to face Hawkeye. "You're wrong, Clint. I didn't get Natasha to seduce you. That was an LMD."
"An LMD? You stole a Life Model Decoy from SHIELD to set me up?" Clint roared.
"The way you've been blowing through the training sequences?" Stark remarked. "If I hadn't thrown a curve your way - well, a couple of curves - you'd have finished your sprint to level ten, and then I'd have had to do some real work, designing more levels."
Hawkeye stood there, with his jaw dropped.
"Besides, you're the one always reminding us all what a professional you are; you don't think the bad guys are above a little dirty pool?" Stark explained. "Heck, the Enchantress alone has illusion and enchantment spells that would make the Black Widow seem like a Russian tractor operator - and you fell for a good, old-fashioned "honey trap" gambit? What happens if Whiplash comes on to you next, and offers you her ass in exchange for letting her go? Or Anaconda... oh wait. Never mind Anaconda."
Hawkeye calmed down.
"Fair enough, I suppose. But Stark, do me a favor? Pull the Black Widow from your LMD list, and put in someone I don't mind blowing up, like Madame Viper?" What Hawkeye thought but didn't add was "after I'm finished with her, anyways".
Training hard had just taken on a new meaning.
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