I had spent all night awake, philosophizing about love and life. I had made many unpardonable errors in my time, some much larger than others. I had contributed to the bloody battles between people with my creative weaponry and revolutionary energy research. This, however, was not my greatest slip-up. My one most terrible mistake was something I would barely want to think out loud, let alone say. My greatest mistake was not telling him how much I loved him.
You see, my love for him is far more important than the silly and insignificant deaths my inventions had contributed to. My love for him made me who I am. Who am I? Tony Stark. The masterful and extreme very important playboy and billionaire. Iron man. The strongest and most creative super hero to have ever lived in New York also known as Metropolis and Gotham City. My glowing chest muscles glistened with sweat as I slowly got up from my bed. My pants hung low and the room was dark save for the distinct radiance of the arc reactor. I leisurely strolled to the door and into the bathroom.
Once I had reached the bathroom I had examined my beautiful chiseled face. I knew I was truly an endowment from the gods that I did not deem to be in existence. Being in the bathroom was never a pleasant experience. It was far too human. Too...ordinary. I detested feeling human, you see. It made me feel weak. These human needs were getting old and incommodious. All but one, of course. I enjoyed the exquisiteness of masturbation. It was one of the few things that did not make me feel like a feeble human. It made me feel dominant and masculine.
This was not the time for that, however. This was the time for me to gradually and vigilantly cleanse my influential bottom. It was a meticulous process. All had to be faultless for tomorrow. I would finally tell the man of my dreams how much I cherished him. I would finally right this dreadful wrong I had made so long ago. If I had believed in God then I would have believed that righting this wrong would redirect me from the blazing pits of hell all the way up to the remarkable clouds of heaven. The thing is, I did not believe in God. Not one bit. How could someone as saintly as I believe in such a thing? Nay!
It was almost light by the time I had finished my bathroom ritual. I had taken far too long staring at the dazzling nudes of Steve I had hidden. I have quite a few pictures of his Adonis-like physique. These pictures were taken from the solitude of his own bedroom. A mastermind like me was able to hide a few cameras and snap some pictures. I frequently stood up late watching him enthusiastically caress his substantial succulent cock. One might call something like this creepy, but I call it research.
I started to cook a delectable meal. A meal of Steve's favorites. Cheeseburgers, obviously. What else would a truly masculine and nationalistic gentleman adore to eat? A few cans of beer and perchance I could present to him a shotgun of my own blueprint. Steve was a big supporter of the second amendment. He loved to carry guns although it would never be required for one of his strength and magnificence. It was peculiar to me that such an American man had such blonde hair, though I could always tell how American it was by its fluffy consistency and manly cut.
His stupendous and God-like musculature made me swoon and proved to be one of the top ten causes of the often noticeable large lump in my pants. Whenever our dear Peter would question it I would slowly groan and remind him that puberty does bizarre things. It's odd, really, was Peter not older? One would think that he had gone through puberty long ago. It seems to come late for some men, especially men with extraordinary powers such as us.
Going off track, am I? It's so hard not to fantasize and think about things like that, especially when the divinity of my dreams will be arriving soon. I anxiously awaited him, making sure that I wore only my boxers. Lone boxers are the ideal attire for a gentlemanly sexcapade. If my calculations were accurate, and with my intellect they must be, then very soon I would no longer be an anal sex virgin.
It was like a choir of angels had arrived when I heard the knock on the door. I opened it swiftly and smiled at him "Well then, Steve. It's nice to see that you and your otherworldly crotch snake arrived on time." Perhaps I had been too forward and forthright with that comment, but it had the desired effect. With a large-black-dog-like grunt, Steve slammed the door and embraced me tightly. "Steveā¦" I looked up at him, struggling to see beyond his protruding chest muscles.
"Shh." Steve looked down, craning his neck so that he could look into my eyes, "I was hoping you would feel the same of me that I feel for you. My superhuman heart longs to be bonded with your beautiful shrapnel hunted one." He dragged me into the shelter of the kitchen and opened the fridge as he slowly and teasingly stripped to his red white and blue tighty whities. It was an unexplainable honor having this Justin Bieber-esque figure rifling in my technologically advanced fridge.
He grabbed the peanut butter with a sly grin and smoldering eyes. It was evident that he had wanted to get very kinky this fine night and use the peanut butter as a lube. As he pulled our undies off and assumed the position I braced myself for the cold touch of the chunky peanut paste that my all-American man had wanted to spread on my pink puckered anus.
With a strong and draconic grunt Steve forced his masculine and veiny pink snake into the tight peanut covered cave that is my gloryhole. The striking and powerful love I have felt could only have been as strong as the pride that a teacher feels for their students when they learn how to give head correctly. Perhaps even more powerful. Steve continued to grunt, pushing harder and faster. He then reached around to stroke my splendid peanut covered manhood.
Panting together in a sweaty kitchen having the best peanut buttery sex of my life was truly not what I had expected to happen tonight, yet I am glad that it did. My beautiful Kanye West-esque God-like Steve and I had orgasm'd in unison. This was a sign from the Gods that did not exist that we were meant to be together for all eternity. This was an indication that what we were doing was entirely correct. I turned to look at Steve, still panting from the adventure and smiled.
"Well this seems quite unfair of you two." An all too familiar voice exclaimed from above. Steve and I gave a sigh, it was Jarvis. "It would probably be fair if I could join in, however." he added. Steve looked at me and I shrugged. Suddenly the two of us spun around, hearing the hard wood under the thick white and slightly stained carpet make a loud creaking sound.
