"Come on, you guys! Keep up!" Darcy yelled back at Thor and Jane, who were walking with hands in each others' back pockets, figuratively speaking. Jane wasn't sure she had back pockets, so maybe Thor was just grabbing her ass. She was definitely grabbing his. "Guys!Come! On! You're gonna love this!"
"Slow down!" Jane countered. Her words were slurring. It wasn't fair. Darcy had drunken twice as much as she had and she appeared completely fine (the girl had sorority girl genes, Jane knew it, even if she had never pledged), while Jane felt really warm and kinda horny and was worried that any moment she'd admit she'd voted for John McCain.
Darcy got to their mobile home away from home, generously furnished by SHIELD with such luxuries as air conditioning, beds, and wi-fi. She slapped the door as if she didn't have her own key. "Cooooome on! My thing, the thing I want to show you, right inside! Yay!" She did a little jump. Apparently mai tais took her from grad student to cheerleader.
"This better be worth it," Jane advised her, in her capacity of senior scientist person, as she took her key out. She couldn't quite get it in the lock, but Thor got it for her. Thor, the gentleman, who'd drunken more than both of them put together and was barely off-balance. Even that much was a credit to American beer. Eat it, Germans.
"M'lady," Thor said, getting the door for her, then let out something that might be considered a giggle from anyone other than a Thunder God.
Darcy dashed inside. She did a drunken circuit of the room, running down a mental checklist before she could forget, unplugging the phone, powering down the computer, covering the windows, bumping into Thor, and locking the door.
Jane leaned against Thor. He was nice and solid and not going anywhere, even if the room kinda spun. Just perfect. "What'd you want to show us, Darcy?"
Darcy faced them. "Check it!" She pulled off her shirt with ease that had to come with practice. The bra hugged her curves like a really good car hugged a road... Jane had lost track of that metaphor. "I got this bra online!" Then she wiggled out of her jeans. Maybe she didn't have as much practice at that; Thor had to steady her so she didn't tip over. "And check the bootylicious panties!"
They did do a good job of highlighting Darcy's ass, climbing up the curve of her buttocks like they were apparently supposed to, and leaving the untanned bottom area bare, so there was definitely a lot going on there. Jane hiccupped. That seemed to get Darcy's attention. She strutted up to her stunned boss, a predatory look in her eyes. And she was chewing her lip, which she only did when she was feeling predatory.
"Look, club lesbians," Darcy said, grabbing Jane for a kiss.
Jane was a bit overwhelmed. They were reeling backward as Darcy attacked her mouth and Darcy had her arms wrapped around Jane and the warm stomachy sensation that Jane had felt migrated, zipping about her body before settling at her crotch, or maybe that was Darcy's fingers, and they collapsed on a couch, shitty government furniture but Jane couldn't even feel the lumps when Darcy was on top of her, all curves and expensive underwear and still kissing her.
Jane was trying to figure out what to do with her hands that wasn't unhooking Darcy's bra, but when they landed on Darcy's ass, that seemed as good a place for them as any. And Jane had never regretted being a size four or her exercise regiment or owing exactly three bras because she only had to wear one if she wanted to, but if she had an ass like that, she would've spent all day touching it.
"Darcy..." Darcy was kissing her neck, and thank God it was scarf weather, because Darcy was leaving hickies like she was trying to spell her name on Jane, middle initial and all. "Darcy! Not in front of the extraterrestrial! This isn't like a quickie back at the RV."
"Uh,duh, back then I wore crap Wal-Mart undies because I didn't have an awesome overinflated-defense-budget salary?" Darcy broke off laughing, smiling and kissing Jane with a little more affection than passion. "Hey, this isn't Fatal Attraction,relax-o. I get it, you and Thor are doing the whole 'swans mate for life' thing. But youcannotdate Sir Manmeat and keep him all to yourself. Uh-uh. That is not sisterhood, that is... bad feminism!"
"Well, I mean, Thor, what do you thin—" Jane looked over at him. He was naked and clearly up for it. Jane wondered what is was about Asgardian clothes that made them so easy to get out of.
"You are ever the maiden of my heart, Jane Foster, but if you wish it, I would be happy to grant our faithful friend a boon. A fitting cap to our jubilations!"
Darcy giggled and kissed Jane some more. "Dude. It's a fitting cap. C'mon."
Jane's head was spinning and she was trying to think of it in terms of which she'd regret more, doing this or not doing this, and if this technically made her a dirty old professor who slept with her students—did that count if she didn't have tenure? Then Darcy did something that felt absolutely filthy to her eardrum and Jane decidedwhen in Asgard, even if they were really just on temporary Asgardian embassy soil.
"Yes!" Darcy fist-pumped, sensing the sea change in Jane. "Oh, you're awesome, I thought I'd have to bribe you and pick up your lattes for a month or something."
"That was on the table?" Jane pouted. She hated driving five miles for a Starbucks, seriously, what kind of town had more churches than it did Starbucks?
"Bitch, be content with my fine ass!" Darcy shook it at her and Jane was very content.
Then all of Darcy's attention was on Thor. She went to him on her hands and knees, the motion doing some amazing things to her ass for Jane's benefit, and he lightly stroked himself to readiness as she approached. Darcy licked her lips, staring like a dog under the dinner table, then breaking into a wide grin at the sight of precum bubbling up to greet her. Earth, Asgard, these bitches were all over her.
"When on exciting Earth—" Darcy started in a cheesy radio announcer voice, rearing up to kiss Thor's abs like she'd wanted to since about one second after she'd seen them, the first second spent worrying that she could cut her tongue on those lines. "Be sure to let the friendly natives make you feel right at home, with their local refreshments and slutty third-wave-feminist ways!"
"Darcy—" Thor groaned, biting his tongue to keep from saying something un-royal.
Darcy was disappointed he'd run out of Shakespeare lines. "Missus Darcy if you're nasty," she said, which didn't make any sense, but making sense seemed a distant second to having Thor's cock in her cleavage. She got both hands around it—steel-hard, thick as pipe,throbbing—and babbled as she kissed at it. "I lifted your hammer. Does this mean I'm worthy of your power?"
"Almost certainly," Thor moaned, now running his callused fingers over Darcy's scalp, tossing her hair over her face.
Jane occupied herself finding new places to touch herself. In her drunken haze, and masturbatory excitement, it took a while. She started off just fingering herself, then came up with touching her clit, then thought of fondling her breasts, which she had to take her shirt off to do. She fell off the couch, but became topless. By then, Darcy had covered Little Mjolnir in saliva and gotten it hard enough to hang clothes from. Jane shimmied her pants down her hips and fuckingloved herself.
Darcy kissed Thor's manhood—godhood?—in some more places, of which there were many, a bit disappointed that he tasted a lot like this frat guy she knew back home, this musky flavor that struck her as a very effective advertisement for bourbon for some reason. She tried to figure out how she would fit him in her mouth, as figuratively big as Jane told her it was, since he was a bit more god-like in that aspect than he even was at smiting people. And he was getting bigger, pleased with how she made out with that vein running through his length, which was a kind of god-pleasing they never had covered in Sunday school.
She finally decided, fuck it—again, since that'd been her call when she'd pulled her two lovahs away from a jukebox playing fucking Styx—and to just take it in her mouth and believe in herself.
She didn't get it all in—despite biased reports, she wasn't 'fun' enough to deep-throat—but she deeply enjoyed trying.
Jane was feeling something entirely new. Not that she was a stranger to masturbation, but it was usually a relaxed affair where she rubbed herself through her panties and imagined Viggo Mortensen rubbing suntan lotion on her. This was fast and jerking and that was before it occurred to her to touch that strangely sensitive spot deep inside herself, the one Thor had seemed to hit with every thrust during their last meeting.
By then, Darcy had six inches in her mouth and more on the way. Jane heard her gag and it was such afucking sweetsound. She hammered her fingers into herself, biting her lip so hard, her hips jumping against her hand like there was a real man there, embarrassingly high-pitched noises emitting from her throat, and then suddenly there she was, with what felt like a river pouring out of her. She'd come.
It wasn't nearly enough. Those soothing-Viggo-Mortensen-suntan-lotion sessions, they'd relax her for hours, but this orgasm—pleasant as it was—simply left her craving more. She wondered desperately when Darcy would be done; was she actually going to test the stamina of the Avenger who'd fought an entire alien army without breaking a sweat? Then she remembered it was a threesome and there was no reason for her to wait.
Getting up, Jane pulled off what was left of her clothes at less-than-dignified speed. Not that either of them noticed her wrestling her clothes off. That was one advantage of a threesome; no one paid attention to you while you were taking off your socks.
Jane thought of getting down on her knees and worshipping (pun!her mind registered) Thor with Darcy, but then, no, no way she was going to open up comparisons between her and a college kid. She didn't even eat bananas the same way. She broke them into chunks with her fingers and ate them piecemeal.
Darcy moaned as she managed to get another inch into her gullet; Jane realized she was hesitating. What was the point of being cautious at a Roman orgy (or Viking orgy, whatever)? Not letting herself think, she strode forward and planted one on Thor. She took him by surprise, but only for a second. Then he was kissing her back, hard, his thick arms wrapping around her. A wild thought occurred to her and she didn't think twice. Breaking away from Thor, she took her fingers—still wet from being inside herself—and rubbed them over Thor's lips.
