Her Sister's Keeper update (Patreon)

“Just go to Natasha’s room, knock on door, and tell her get her ass in gear,” Yelena said innocently. “Simple. You could have done it already, if you not big chicken’s shit.”

I tried not to let it smart that my girlfriend was making fun of me. Chickenshit. At least I knew how to say it right. How did a spy even have an accent that thick anyway? “And she’s not going to wake up from some traumatic nightmare and shoot the nearest person with a gun under her pillow?”

Yelena scoffed. “Kate Bishop, she hardly ever does that. Besides, you are very cute, no one at Red Room was very cute.”

“Then why don’t you do it?” I insisted.

“Because I am her sister, she will beat me up!” Yelena slapped me gently on the forehead. “You, you are stranger, she must be nice to you. Otherwise she will get cancelled on the social media!”

I rolled my eyes. This was ridiculous. I shouldn’t be afraid of Black Widow, just because she was Black Widow. Yelena was a Black Widow too and I wasn’t afraid of her. Well, maybe a little, but after you’ve ass-fucked someone a few times, it’s hard to be too intimidated by them. Not impossible, but I am a superhero, so Yelena only mildly scares me. I just keep reminding myself that she wouldn’t dare risk me making her sleep on the couch.

“Alright, I’ll go wake your sister up. But just this once!” I said, knowing I sounded a little pathetic, but wanting to put my foot down somewhere.

“Thank yoooouu,” Yelena drawled, batting her eyelashes at me cutely. “And I promise, I will never ask you to do this again until I get Nat to say that she will not sleep with gun under pillow.”

“She sleeps with a gun under her pillow?”

“I don’t see what problem is. You never say anything about gun under my pillow.”

“You sleep with a gun under your pillow?”

Yelena just smiled impishly at me. No wonder Natasha beat her up. If I were another Black Widow, I’d probably smack Yelena around all the time. Of course, judging by what I got away with using a strap-on, she’d probably like it.

It didn’t take long for me to get to Natasha’s room, even with me taking my time. I raised my hand to knock and rapped on the door. It tilted open. I wouldn’t have expected Natasha to sleep with her door ajar, but apparently she had. And the door just kept swinging, like an avalanche going downhill. It sidled all the way up to the wall, letting in a dagger of light that fell upon Natasha.

She was on the bed, tangled up in her sheets, sleeping on her side with her arms and legs wrapped up in the blanket. But her ass was on display. She wore an almost translucent set of panties, their canvas shade only a little pinker than her actual skin, so I was seeing everything, all of her perfect legs widening into full thighs and then exploding into her thick ass like a flower in bloom, those juicy hips so wide and meaty for such a fit woman. Because right at her waist, her body narrowed again, tapering down into her slender little belly, her hourglass figure like a decadent indulgence… all those tits, all that ass, and yet on a woman who was still all but sylphlike, ascetic, taut muscles carved out of her pale skin. Like she was some statue that’d come perfectly voluptuous and then the sculptor had chiseled athleticism out of the marble, but left that girthy ass and those fat breasts in place.

Then I saw the little sparkle… a rosebud of green light between her weighty cheeks. She had a buttplug in. It was exactly the sort of thing Yelena would wear to keep her asshole nice and open, for my benefit, so I could ass-fuck her whenever she wanted. I had to wonder who could possibly be fucking Natasha. And envy them. Whoever had any amount of contact with that perfect ass had to be the luckiest motherfucker…

I suddenly felt unfaithful to Yelena. Which was ridiculous. Because we had an open relationship, not that I’d ever stray or Yelena would, I don’t think… She definitely seemed to go for being ass-fucked so often that it was hard for me to imagine she wanted anyone else. But she was a Black Widow and you never knew when she’d have to seduce someone, so we’d agreed no jealousy. But I didn’t think that lofty principle would hold up if I were to fuck her sister.

Then I felt eyes on me and I knew it had to be Natasha.

I looked to her face. That gorgeous, that fucking perfect face was turned to me, looking over her shoulder, looking better with no make-up than I would have a visit to a beauty salon. Life wasn’t fair.

“Get in,” she said.

“What?”

“You think I want you to shout at me from out in the hall when I just woke up? Get in here. And shut the door behind you.”

I stepped inside. I shut the door behind me. We stood—well, I stood—in darkness for a moment before she turned on a lamp on the nightstand. It was enough to be sure I wouldn’t trip on anything in the dark, not that there was anything to trip on. Natasha wasn’t the type to leave a bra lying around.

She sat on. The blanket fell away from her body. She had on a thin tanktop too. It clung to her plump, pale breasts tight enough to show every jostle that went through her body, every bounce that had nowhere to go on her trim figure but those enormous tits she’d somehow merged with an Olympic physique.

“What is it?” Natasha asked, running a hand through her hair. And that was all it took to turn it into wavy locks I’d kill for.

“Yelena sent me. She just told me to tell you that, ah, you’re wanted.”

“Am I?” Natasha asked, now rubbing some sleep from her eyes. “Wanted?”

And she drew the blanket aside so it was entirely off her body, letting me see the crotch of her panties, the little prominence of her mound through the gusset, the roundness that would let me into every fold, every little tightness of her pussy.

“Y-yeah. She needs you in the… computer… place…”

Natasha pursed her lips now. She stood up. She seemed to tower over me. At least tall enough that all I could see were her tits jutting out at me. That and her ass. I still kept seeing her ass, even when it was turned away from me. I wondered how big the buttplug was. How much room she was holding open in her ass for whoever got to fuck it…

“Is that all?” Natasha asked, and her sleepy voice now seemed to have a definite purr in it. That ruthlessly intelligent roughness that made her sound like sin personified, too smart and too amoral and too altogether dirty not to get into trouble.

“Yeah? That’s it?”

“You’re not at all curious why I have a plug up my ass?”

A pang went through my cunt. Like I was riding a horse and bounced hard on the saddle. It just twanged through me. I was wet and my eyes flicked to Natasha’s panties, wondering if they were wet too. If she was wet too.

Natasha could see I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. She took a step towards me. “Of course you’re not curious. You know. It’s so I can get fucked in the ass. No lube, no loosening me up. Just take it out and put it in. The same reason you’re wearing a strap-on under those pants. Yelena’s missed out on a lot of fucking, hasn’t she? And you are making up for lost time.”

Yelena. It hit me like a shock to think of Yelena. Natasha’s sister. Well, not really. But they’d decided they were sisters. So it wasn’t like I could argue with them.

“Yelena and I are… are really good friends. And we’ve been on a couple dates…”

“And I’ve stood outside her room while you fuck that sweet little ass of hers for hours,” Natasha finished with a droll lilt to her voice. “Loud, isn’t she? I’m surprised you haven’t gone deaf. But I suppose it’s always nice to be appreciated. And to know when she wants you to pull her hair. Although if she likes it so much, you think she’d grow her hair out instead of doing that awful Aubrey Hepburn thing. It’d look so pretty down around her shoulders, don’t you think?”

“That’s private!” I insisted, which felt like the safest tack to take.

“You fucked her over the sink in the ladies’ restroom. Was that private?”

“That was her—” I stopped myself, realizing I was confirming what I might have been able to pass off as just me helping Yelena with a slipped disc or something.

“Her idea?” Natasha quirked an eyebrow. “I’m sure. Which makes me wonder what kind of girlfriend material you are? You have that sexy little blonde bending over every chance she gets and she has to make the first move.” She wryly adopted Yelena’s accent: “Kate Bishop. If you’re going to have my sister as your bitch, you could at least appreciate how lucky you are…”

“By fucking her ass every chance I get?” How I didn’t stop myself from saying that, I’ll never know.

“It’s a start,” Natasha drawled. “Then there’s flowers, chocolates, making runs to Wendy’s for her… but she’s a practical sort. What she cares about is getting ass-fucked, so let’s focus on that. Have you at least sodomized her enough to reach Nirvana?”

“Nirvana?” I asked. “Look, she’s great and all, but I don’t think I’m going to become one with the universe by…” I had been saying ass-fuck too often for a conversation with my girlfriend’s sister. “By doing that.”

“You’d be surprised.” Natasha slid back down on the bed, despite having walked away from it. She patted the mattress next to her butt, which was still next-to-naked and still had a plug in it. “Sit.”