Young Lust
I am just a new boy, Will some cold woman in this desert land Ooooh, I need a dirty woman.
Stranger in this town.
Where are all the good times?
Who's gonna show this stranger around?
Ooooh, I need a dirty woman.
Ooooh, I need a dirty girl.
Make me feel like a real man?
Take this rock and roll refugee
Oooh, baby set me free.
Ooooh, I need a dirty girl.
She had him pinned to the mat thighs wrapped tight around his waist. Red hair that was originally pulled back in a tight bun now falling in wisps against her sweaty forehead. He was finally allowed to spare with the others. He was carefully observed, of course. But still. The opportunity to actually practice the skills he was so good at lifted his spirits more than nearly anything else had. He had started off against Steve. They were worried that his previous mission to kill him would turn the practice sour, but he knew Steve. Their fighting was playful, light, competitive in the way that only good friends could master. It was easy and they matched each other. Bucky had more practice, knew a few more moves, but he wasn't really trying to beat Steve. And Steve knew him, too. Fighting him was play. It was a way to hone lost skills, build confidence, reinforce their already strong friendship. After he proved he could spare with Steve and remain calm, they started letting him spare with others. He had enjoyed striking Tony in the face "accidentally."
When Natasha joined them today, he raised an eyebrow. She pulled her hair back as she walked up to them and shrugged, "I was getting bored with my training plan, thought I'd mix it up. See what you could do." She was baiting him, but it wasn't unwelcome. They had started off slow and easy, but soon their strikes were more intentional and less cautious. they moved fast and still matched each other. Bucky was impressed. Natasha was the best of the Avengers yet. She could probably beat Steve if she wanted too. The creak of a door sounded loud against the sound of their breathing, and his eyes cut to the noise. Natasha didn't hesitate to use the small distraction against him. He was on the floor before he could counter. She had him pinned to the floor, she hovered over him, waiting for him to attempt to throw her off. Her hands were on his wrists holding him to the floor. Her arms muscled and tense as she focused her attention on pushing him down. It was like lightning, how the image zapped into his brain. Suddenly, instead of Natasha, the black widow, dressed in yoga pants and a grey t-shirt, he was being straddled by another woman, with Natasha's face, and in the brief image, he realized that woman wasn't wearing anything at all. He remembered this view, only instead of pinning him her thighs moved rhythmically around him. She was a dancer, and everything she did was a dance.
"Natalia?" He asked. She was off him in a flash, surprise coloring her cheeks, her mouth open, like she was seconds from responding. She stood on the edge of the mat. Looking between him and Steve who was looking at her quizzically. She gave him an apologetic look, before offering a hand to James to help him up.
"Yes. That's someone I used to be." she answered. She didn't know what else to say.