Author's Note:
**This is a revised edition of a story published a few months ago, after the original was found to not comply with some of Literotica's rules.**
This chapter (and its follow-ups) takes place during the first Avengers movie. I actually started this story shortly after the movie was released in 2012, but never got around to finishing it.
Now, I've had some ideas for an ongoing series based on the Marvel Cinematic Universe's Black Widow, so thought I would re-write this initial chapter to get the ball rolling, hopefully making further stories based on her other MCU appearances.
Most of the movie's events remain the same unless otherwise stated, though I may reorder some of the chronology for the sake of pacing. I jump around through the story so this works better if you remember the movies well.
Of course, Marvel owns the rights to these characters, and there will be spoilers for the films involved.
*********
Luchkov. Georgi Luchkov. She would be glad to be done with him soon. The corrupt Russian general had reportedly been illegally selling weapons to the highest bidder, but finding out exactly the who and when required lots of surveillance. But there are some things that require a little more subtlety, for the more close-quarters scenarios.
That's when you send in the 'Black Widow', the master assassin able to infiltrate any organisation and take it down from the inside.
Tonight's opulent party was a social occasion for most of the guests, with Russia's rich and powerful in attendance, but for Luchkov it was time for clandestine business. For this particular S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, it was much the same.
Finding an invite to the party wasn't easy, but there was always a way in. The easy part was becoming part of the crowd. All you needed was a nice dress, a vague story about your desire to be a model in Moscow, and maybe a sprinkling of backstory for the guests to nod their heads and pretend to listen to.
The fact was, if you looked good at one of these parties, and put up with men constantly placing their hands on your back and ass, or their wives' jealous glares, things would go pretty smoothly. Slipping on some dark pantyhose and a short black dress, she looked good enough to draw some stares, but not outlandish enough to become the centre of attention.
These manor house gatherings gave the likes of Luchkov the opportunity to speak with high-ranking officials and businessmen without the any government oversight. There were no minutes taken at parties, while private companies can take care of the security. All that's left is to find an excuse to leave and find a quiet spot to talk shop.
After spending a few weeks on the case, Black Widow knew that Luchkov wasn't one to spill the beans to a pretty girl in a cocktail dress, but he wasn't nearly as smart as he thought he was. The care he took to keep his dodgy deals secret were more about his comfort than any real safety procedures, which meant all she had to do was wait for the meeting to commence.
In the meantime, the agent mingled at the party, trying to be both friendly and yet as forgettable as possible. She rarely needed to speak Russian usually, but this recent mission had proven she was as fluent in her first language as ever.
Early on she put a lot of effort into speaking to one elderly couple, mostly so she could reference them in other conversations, as if they had been close for a number of years. A quick wave to them across the room would be enough for most to believe that they knew each other.
Natalia Shostakova was her name tonight, a 23-year-old country girl born into wealth, eager to fit in with city socialites and make a name for herself far from the reaches of her family, even going so far as to change her surname. Most of this information would never be said aloud, but it made for a good base from which to build other lies on, and a simple psychological state to improvise a personality.
She made sure to always keep an eye on Luchkov's activities, but stayed far enough away so she would never catch his eye. Even a dimwit like him would recognise her face if he saw it too many times.
Around an hour into the party, she noticed the General sit down, surrounded by drunken friends. She saw another man, who she recognised as another Captain in his circle, lean down and whisper in his ear. Luchkov's smile disappeared, he shared a few angry words before dismissing the Captain, plastering on the fake smile for the other guests once more.
Knowing that the General would be occupied for at least a few minutes more, she let him leave her sight momentarily as she followed the other man. He walked briskly through the party to the kitchen. She nonchalantly followed him, a glass of champagne in her hand, but darted through to the garden on the left before she reached the kitchen.
Natalia Shostakova, thankfully, was a smoker, so she took the opportunity to step outside into the chill of the evening. She put her glass down on the window ledge for a moment, and discretely attached a small black device to the window as she did, turning its tiny antenna to face the next room door, where the Captain was talking in hushed tones.
She placed an earpiece in her ear, twisting its dial until a connection was made, and the conversation was clear, coming in halfway through a word.
"-ix it up then? Change the guards' patrols and catch them out?" An unknown voice said.
"Let's just keep the routes the same, I don't want anything to look different," said the Captain. "Let's just have everyone on high alert. I don't care who she is or what she's done, the Black Widow can be shot and killed like any other. If she's here like you say, she's finished."
'Well, this isn't good,' the spy thought to herself, 'but at least these idiots don't know what I look like, even if someone tipped them off that I'd be here'.
"She? You're still convinced it's a woman?" one voice asked, "Have you not heard the stories?"
She couldn't help but smile.
"All the same, Luchkov doesn't want the deal disturbed. We'll have to keep things looking the normal, so the investors don't get jumpy before money changes hands. If the Widow is here, we don't want her to know we know."
"Whatever you say, boss"
"Anyway," The Captain said, "The meeting is in 10 minutes in the basement on the west side of the house. Do me a favour and keep any wondering guests away."
Hearing all she needed to, she reached for the bug, shortening the antenna and putting it away in her purse. She took another drag of her cigarette, leaning against the outer wall as the two men left the kitchen. Suddenly, a man appeared to her left, his cigarette already lit in his hand.
Clearly a little drunk, he looked her up and down and smiled.
"Wonderful view out here, isn't it?"
"The trees look beautiful swaying in the breeze," she said, hoping this conversation would be brief.
"I wasn't talking about the view."
As he came closer, she reached for her drink and finished off the last of it.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Natalia, yours?"
"I'm Aleksandr. And I am very, very, pleased to meet such a good-looking woman"
He grasped her hand and kissed it, and Natalia nervously giggled.
"Thankyou so much, such a compliment from a handsome man like yourself"
"You have good manners," he grinned.
He let go of her hand but began to stroke up her arm. Natalia took one last drag of her cigarette with her other hand and dropped it to the floor.
Aleksandr's hand moved to the side of her face, at which point she suddenly remembered the earpiece still in her ear. Her hand shot up to his and, to avoid causing a scene, she instead lightly pulled it away from her face, bring it down further and further until it was level with her hip. As his gaze followed the movement, she used her other hand to remove the earpiece under the guise of tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
He placed his hand on her hip, she shot him a practised, hungry look, and he fell into her eyes. He leaned in and their lips met, first softly, then more firmly as his drunken passion took hold. Soon enough the kiss was accompanied by a caressing of her ass. His impatient hands then found the hem of her dress and slipped underneath.
She felt his fingers run over her ass, tracing their curves and feeling for the indent of her panties underneath the pantyhose. This would be an opportune moment to take him discretely aside and give him what he really wanted, but the timer had already been set on this mission.
As he reached further up, past her ass and to the tops of her tights, she knew she had to put an end to this as soon as possible. His fingertips crept underneath the hem and started to pull them down before she put her hand lightly on his forearms and pushed him away. To her surprise he relented, but glared at her with the eyes of someone who believed he would have her soon.