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"God!" intoned Peggy, limply falling back on the bed.
"Leave God out of it," whispered Beth. "This is devil's work, pure and simple."
Summer Camp, by Anne Herbert
Toni started collecting the pulps when she was a teenager, finding them in stacks at the back of used bookstores in the city. Of all the many possessions she’s gained and lost in the course of her life, the cheap paperbacks have stayed with her. Sometimes stuck in storage in cardboard boxes, sometimes actually put out on shelves to be grabbed and flipped through whenever Toni happened to have a spare couple seconds.
For a while in her early twenties when the press was sniffing around her sexuality but hadn’t yet gotten their hands on those oh so incriminating grad school pictures, she’d taken to always having one in her bag. Just in case she saw a photog and needed to whip it out, hiding her face behind the bent, faded covers embossed with women in girdles and button shirts, thigh high stockings slipping out from their skirts.
After Howard died, Toni was busy for a good couple years establishing herself as the new holy Stark Industries emperor. She had to learn to play a little nice with the board, to ignore the raw anger that turned her smile cold whenever her gender or proclivities became a topic of debate again and the novels seemed little childish. Her defiant adolescent angst taking up space on the shelf where she needed to store the fruits of genius that would prove her worth as CEO.
Then the Ten Rings happened, Iron Man happened, the Avengers happened, and at the end of it all Captain fucking America (or fucking Captain America, as the case may be) happened. Toni had a brand new tower to decorate for her and five of her brand new best friends, and the trusty paperbacks of her teenage wet dreams just seemed to fit. She might be Iron Man, an Avenger, a genius, a billionaire, a playgirl, and a philanthropist. But once she was a teenager buying dollar dyke bodice rippers and reading them under her covers with a flashlight.
A couple weeks after Toni puts them out, she comes up from the lab and finds Steph curled up in a chair with one of the novels open on her knees. She’s wide-eyed, a little flushed, biting her bottom lip between her teeth with her nipples hard through the thin fabric of her tee shirt. It’s a favorite of Toni’s, about an innocent camp counselor seduced by one of the older counselors for a summer of wild, reckless sexual abandon.
“Enjoying yourself?” Toni asks mildly.
Steph about levitates. “I -” she begins, red flooding into her cheeks. “I was just. Looking for something to read.”
Toni laughs, stripping off her grease stained tank top. “And you went straight for the one with two scantily clad women draped on a bed. I’m so proud, babe.”
“What are all these?” Steph asks, neatly brushing off Toni’s tease. She jerks her chin toward the shelf and a half.
“Porn for the closeted fifties housewife,” Toni says, unbuttoning her jeans and shimmying them down over her hips. There’s a moment where Steph’s eyes seem to actually flick between the dog eared pages of the pulp and Toni’s hips. “And all the little baby lezzes who didn’t have the vast stores of internet porn to get them through the cold and lonely nights.”’
Steph marks her page in the book and sets it aside. “Of course,” she says, running her fingers through her hair. She shifts, setting her feet on the floor and cocking her knees open a little bit. Toni grins and takes it as an invitation.
Two hours later, after they’ve cycled from chair to shower, back to the chair and finally ended up in bed, Toni stretches out on her back with her arms tucked behind her head. The blankets are somewhere on the floor, and all they’ve got is the thin sheet and the heat Steph puts out. She’s like a damn space heater with her head on Toni’s stomach, hair fanned out soft and silky over Toni’s tits.
Steph’s breath ghosts out over Toni’s belly and hips, her fingers curl over Toni’s side in a gesture that’s very nearly possessive. Toni is irrationally fond of her. “So, how’d you like the book?” Toni asks.
“The book?” Steph asks. Her voice is mild and a little wrecked.
“The erotic tale of one camp counselor’s descent into lesbian madness?” Toni rattles off the summary, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead in a swoon that Steph can’t see. “I can’t fault your taste. It was always one of my favorites.”
Steph presses her face to Toni’s stomach, and Toni can feel the heat coming off her cheeks. “It was. Appealing,” she manages. “I never went to summer camp. I mean, that kind of thing didn’t really happen, right?”
“Don’t know,” Toni shrugs. “I never went to actual summer camp either.”
“No?”
“Nope. I spent a couple summers when I was a kid taking college engineering classes. I spent a couple summers at, ah, space camp.”
Steph lifts her head. “Space camp?”
“It’s not actually in space,” Toni assures her. “It was like baby astronaut camp. I pissed off the counselors by caring more about the actual physics of a rocket than about getting to put on the astronaut suit. Did they have summer camp in the thirties?”
“They did,” Steph says. “But not for little asthmatic kids living in Brooklyn.”
And then Toni gets an idea.
It only takes her a couple days to gather all the shit that she needs, and then another week for her Stark Industries schedule and her Avengers schedule to coincide such that she has a free weekend with both her and Steph in the Tower.
She drops a couple hints to Clint and Natasha that maybe they want to find something to occupy themselves -- killing an ex-soviet general or letting Natasha put on her latex boots and make Clint lick them, Toni does not care -- and Natasha rolls her eyes, but agrees. Thor’s going to New Mexico to spend the weekend with Jane Foster, and someday Toni will stop getting a little fluttery over Thor's girl being Jane fucking Foster. And to Bruce she says, “I’m planning on lots of loud sex with Steph, you want to check out some of my California facilities?”
Toni takes advantage of the fact that Steph is the only one Fury ever asks to come to strategy briefings any more -- since she’s the only one who treats SHIELD as a necessary component of their work instead of as an annoyance. In an ideal world, she’d have been able to set up something a little more elaborate at one of her properties in California, or upstate. But there’s no way Steph would just skip off on a surprise vacation without asking any question, and Toni wants this to be a surprise.
She’s fairly certain it’s a good idea, but still. There’s an undeniable twist in her gut once she’s got a spare bedroom arranged to her liking. Steph has a much more vast array and variety of desires that anyone ever expects from Miss Captain America herself, and yet. Toni gets a message from Steph saying home soon ;), thinks about punching Clint for teaching Steph the habit of attaching emoticons to every form of electronic communication she sends, and checks herself over in the bathroom mirror one more time.
“I look twelve,” she says, shaking her head and grinning.
Ten minutes later, Jarvis tells her Captain Rogers is home and shall he direct her to the spare bedroom? “Might as well,” Toni says lightly, smoothing down her crisp shirt and striking a casual pose sitting on the edge of the bed.
It feels like Steph takes five years to put her stuff down and get up the third floor and Toni just barely keeps herself from bouncing her leg and asking Jarvis to tell Steph to hurry it up, please.
When Steph opens the door, there’s a couple seconds where all Toni can do is grin and hope for the best. Steph stands there, hand still on the knob, and stares. “I--” she begins, and then laughs, cheeks turning red in the way that she gets when she thinks she’s run into some new quirk of the modern age. “What is this?”
“This is summer camp,” Toni says, flipping out her hand. “The, ah, erotic lesbian desire kind.”
Steph touches her fingers to her mouth. “And what are you supposed to be?”
Toni stands, smoothing down the front of her shorts. She hasn’t worn denim cutoffs in at least twenty-five years and she debated between ripping her jeans at an actually appropriate length, but in the end went for just below the curve of her ass, eat-your-heart-out-Daisy-Duke style. She found the official counselor button down (or an intern did, whatever) of Camp Panawakamaker in a thrift store. She knows the knee high socks are probably straining credulity, but whatever. The chucks are about the only thing she just pulled out of her closet.
The braids were an afterthought, but Toni actually likes being able to reach up and toy with one. “I’m the head counselor,” she says, grinning. “And you’re the young innocent new girl.”
“Ready to be seduced?” Steph asks, but her eyes are bright with amusement and a little bit of lust.
“I hope so,” Toni says. “There’s an official counselor uniform for you on the counter.”
“Is there?” Steph asks, but she’s already crossing the floor and heading for the en suite bathroom. She flicks on the light and closes the door. “I like the redecorating,” she calls.
Toni glances around at the fake log cabin wallpaper she tacked up, and the mountain vista posters she pinned over the windows. It’s not a movie set, but considering she was working around a Hydra base raid and board meetings, it’s not bad. “Thank you,” she says, choosing to interpret the compliment as genuine. She’s not sure if she’ll be able to gracefully slip in the suggestion that Steph open the closet, but if she does? There’s an old Captain America pinup reproduction taped to the door.
“You know,” Steph says, when she comes out of the bathroom. “I somehow doubt the accuracy of this get up.”
Toni turns and takes her in and smiles. “Honestly, I wasn’t going for accuracy.”
Steph stands there in a pleated khaki school girl skirt that would maybe be a decorous length on someone not as obscenely tall as she. Her official counselor button down is for Camp High Hopes and has a little cross embroidered under the name, but it’s the same color as Toni’s, so close enough. She got knee highs, too, and penny loafers.
“No pigtails?” Toni asks.
Steph arches an eyebrow. “There were no instructions,” she says, smoothing down her skirt like she’ll be able to make it longer. “Now what?” she asks.
Toni shrugs and sits back down. She picks up the clipboard she snagged from a passing Stark Industries employee on her way out early in the week. “You’ve done undercover work,” she says. “Call it a mission.”
“Of course,” Steph says. “Just like all my missions to infiltrate summer camps and...get some.”
“Exactly.” Toni nods. “Now, Counselor Rogers, how are you liking camp so far?”
There’s a moment where Steph visibly switches gears; Captain America slides out of her posture and she becomes someone much more demure, and less certain. She starts toying with the hem of her skirt, and scuffing the toe of her loafer into the carpet. She looks at Toni through the sweep of her eyelashes, biting her bottom lip between her teeth.
Goddamn, Toni thinks. I am a fucking genius.
“It’s good,” Steph says, perching on the edge of the bed by Toni. She’s not close enough for their knees to touch, but Toni can feel the heat coming off her skin and smell her soap. “I’m really glad I decided to come.”
So much for young and innocent.
“We’re always happy to have -- fresh meat here at camp,” Toni says and makes a mental reminder to manually delete the security footage of this, as soon as she’s uploaded a copy to her personal secure server.
Toni gets an idea as Steph leans closer, brushing their arms together accidentally-on-purpose. She stands, bouncing the mattress with enough force that Steph’s arm buckles a little and she has to shove herself upright, a little wide eyed. Toni walks to one of the windows and leans against the sill. “We’re very proud of our camp,” Toni says. “It’s one of the oldest all-girl camps around.”
There’s an amused flicker in Steph’s eye that she quickly tamps down. “Oh, I know,” she says. “It’s one of the reasons I wanted to come here.”
“You have good taste,” Toni says. “Of course, we do have to be careful of the all-boys camp across the, ah, lake. We try as hard as we can of course, but every summer I catch a couple boys from their camp and girls from our camp. You know, together.”
Steph gets where Toni’s heading right away, and looks suitably scandalized. “You mean kissing?” she asks, and god bless Steph’s good nature about what people think of where she comes from. People tend to forget she was a college art student, not a nun.
“Kissing,” Toni agrees. “And sometimes other things, Counselor Rogers.”
“Oh, gosh” Steph says, cocking her head. She draws her eyebrows into a confused little frown that Toni wants to kiss away. She can feel heat started to kick low in her belly.
Toni pushes off the wall and sits back down next to Steph. “Don’t worry. It’s my job to get you through this summer safely away from those boys,” she says, laying her hand on Steph’s knee. “You’ve never kissed a boy, have you?”
Steph’s eyes go big and wide, and Toni flicks her gaze down to the accidental cross under the camp emblem over her heart. The shirt isn’t quite big enough, so the buttons strain a little over her tits. It’s like porn, really, which is partially the point. But still, Toni can feel her heart starting to pick up.
“No, never,” Steph says, flicking her eyes down to Toni’s hand. “Have you?”
There are two ways Toni can play this. She can go the fellow innocent route, or the secretly experienced harlot. Steph’s cheeks are bright pink and her eyes are all wide-eyed innocence. She looks fuck-all like the capable, restrained soldier than Toni falls into bed with most nights. She looks a little more like what Toni might have expected as a teenager, flipping through the old black and white pictures of Captain America! in her star spangled leotard and heels, hair in victory rolls.
It’s hot as shit. Toni wants to crawl under her skirt and make her scream.
“Well,” Toni says. “Not any boys. Not on the mouth. It doesn’t count if it’s not on the mouth.”
The teenage logic makes another little spark of amusement cut through Steph’s sweet and innocent, but she nods earnestly. “Of course,” she agrees. “So, what do you do?”
Toni leans in closer, and brushes a lock of Steph’s hair off her shoulder. She shivers, and that reaction is not contrived in the slightest. Maybe someday Toni will stop being innately triumphant that she, Antonia Stark, gets Captain America hot and bothered and wet as hell, but she doubts that day is coming any time soon.
“It’s just something girls do,” Toni says. “You know, as friends.”
That line came from a girl Toni fucked in college -- not that Toni bought it, but she was just newly turned eighteen, about to get her masters, and willing the chick to take her top off, so she nodded and smiled and let her have her gay-til-grad thing.
Steph tucks her hair behind her ear. “Will you show me? Counselor Stark.”
“Head Counselor,” Toni corrects.
Slowly, she slips off the bed and onto her knees in front of Steph.
“What are you--” Steph begins, but the innocent doesn’t quite make it into her tone, and her tongue flicks out to wet her lips.
“Showing you,” Toni says. “Spread your knees, Counselor Rogers.”
Steph shifts her ass to the edge of the bed and lets her legs fall open. Toni eases forward, running her hands up Steph’s thighs until her fingers disappear beneath the hem of her khaki shirt. Her skin is so soft, and warm. Steph is a fucking space heater all the damn time. Toni has theories about why that is -- metabolism, most likely, which is why she eats enough for three humans -- but that’s possibly the last thing Toni’s actually thinking about.
Steph swallows hard. “Are you sure?” she asks. “Head counselor?” There’s a tease tacked onto the end of the title.
“I’m sure,” Toni says. “Now first, you need to unbutton your shirt.”
That catches Steph a little bit sideways, drawing out just a hint of her own natural shyness. It always springs up as she’s getting naked, like she’s half convinced that every time she takes off her top she’s going to find she’s suddenly back to being a bony little nothing in Brooklyn. No serum, no super soldier, no strength.
But she still puts her hands to the top button of her shirt and says, “Yes, ma’am,” because she plays dirty and knows what the little term of subservience does to Toni.
Carefully, hands shaking in a way that might or might not be an affect, Steph unbuttons her official camp counselor shirt and shrugs it off. Toni might argue that a real innocent would wait to be told, but it’s seems unnecessarily nitpicky. “And your bra,” Toni instructs.
Steph shifts her weight forward, eyes big and wide and uncertain and wanting all at the same time. She fumbles behind her back for a few seconds, then the straps suddenly loose and the cups ease away from her tits. She hesitates, shoulders curled inward and looks to Toni for confirmation -- this is what she’s meant to do. “I said off, Counselor Rogers,” Toni says. “All the way. Good girl.”
Her bra drops down onto the mattress with her shirt.
Steph Rogers’ tits are fucking magnificent, and Toni has always thought so. Even as a teenager, jerking off to those old pinups, she knew that if god ever conspired to give her a chance to see those tits up close and personal, they would be glorious. It’s another kind of sweet, sweet vindication to be proven right again and again.
“Now what?” Steph asks, hands clasped at her chest. Toni decides to get her a little Catholic school girl cross for next time. Even if it’s mixing the porn fantasy genres.
Toni grins. “Now I kiss you.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.” Her fingers are already under the skirt, so all Toni has to do is raise her hands to push the fabric out of the way. She raises an eyebrow when she does. “You’re not wearing panties.”
Steph blushes, spots of red springing up high on her cheeks and flushing down over her shoulders and collarbone. “I,” she says. “I.”
“Don’t even try to lie,” Toni says. “You came here wanting this, didn’t you?”
“I,” Steph says. “I did.”
And damn if Toni’s cunt doesn’t give a little hot, celebratory kick at that. She’s always been a sucker for people who want her back. “Good,” she says.
And really? Toni is better than pushing past the seam of Steph’s cunt with her tongue and pushing the tip of her finger inside. She’s got more finesse than that, and sure as hell more skill. There was a point in her twenties when she kept a neat computer file of all the girls she fucked, with the idea of being able to track her abilities. Decades out from that she can laugh fondly at what a piss poor adult she was then, but she still remembers some of the stats.
And yet, she’s got her role and Steph has hers and fuck if she doesn’t like just going at it with rough, laser focused want. No foreplay, no seduction, just a quick bite to eat in an imaginary cabin in the middle of a theoretical camp in the fucking woods. Boys' camp across the lake, adults milling around and smiling benevolently at what good girls they have under their care while two of them fuck behind a closed door.
She pulls back long enough to ask, “How’s that, Counselor Rogers?”
Steph’s mouth is open and wanton. “It’s good, it’s good,” she gasps. “Don’t stop.”
Toni presses the flat of her tongue to Steph’s clit, licking and sucking until Steph’s making little gasped, shocked noises that means she’s close. This part Toni has down to a science; she knows Steph’s body almost better than she knows her own.
She pushes her finger a little further inside and feels Steph’s muscles flex around her. Toni shifts a little, and in one motion shoves two fingers as deep inside Steph as she can go and sucks hard on her clit. Steph goes falling over the edge into orgasm with a shocked cry, both knees coming up as her entire body contracts in on itself.
Toni fingerfucks her through the aftershocks, until Steph shoves her hair out of her face and grabs at the collar of Toni’s shirt. Grinning, pleased, Toni lets herself be yanked up and into a kiss, Steph’s arms around her neck and her naked tits pressed against Toni’s camp shirt.
“Like that?” she asks.
Steph nips at her bottom lip. “Oh, please, Head Counselor Stark. Let me try?”