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The X- Men have sex lives too
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Copyright 1993:
This is an attempt at erotica using the semi-recent events in the X-men
books. So far, this is taking place in an alternate universe (original?) and
behind the scenes. For those who have read the books, this is to fill in
between the pages. This starts around the Acts of Vengeance.
Standard Disclaimer: If anyone at Marvel is reading this with litigation in
mind, note that this is a parallel plot in a place where everyone is a
doppleganger of the Marvel character, coincidentally with the same name.
This is strictly for entertainment. Hard-copy for personal use is permitted,
but any public use is forbidden (not on my part but by that of Marvel
Industries). Any profit made through it is illegal.
For those of you with weak intellects, and no regard for plot, hit 'n' now,
since merely scanning for key words like pussy, tits, and cunt will skip over
several scenes and all of the work I put into it, so hit 'n' now.
**Keywords: mf/mc/cons/mast/non-cons/ex/ff(implied)/plot
***The Conditioning of Psylocke***
The Mandarin had chosen his brethen well. They had stumbled onto
this assassin only moments before she had chosen to follow through on her
orders. Never before, however, had he expected to find such resources in
such a trivial manner.
His eyes looked over her form, the taught muscles, the smooth skin,
the shimmering hair. Those eyes, as they glared right back at him, held a
coldness that almost made him shudder. She had been a long time consort of
the Warlord Nyoirin, but while the Mandarin was present, the Mandarin was the
Overlord. With a twitch of an eye, he directed his followers to take her to
a chamber.
She sat in the middle of the room, crosslegged, the robe she was
given draped about her, but split in the front, holding her secrets in
shadow. Her wrists faced up, her head tilted down, and her thoughts echoed
through the ancient halls. The mirrors along the upper edge of the room
reflected only more darkness, and her confusion was masked by a butterfly.
Her brow covered with sweat, she opened her eyes, her thoughts
searching for strength. Uncrossing her legs, she folded them under her.
Bowing to a nonexistent shrine, she swiftly jumped to catch her feet under
her, and stood to full height, the robe beginning to reveal her splendor.
Rollling her shoulders, and pushing them back, she shed the robe, and let the
torchlight lick at her form. Beating back the chaos in her mind, she did
what she always did to escape her fears, she practiced.
Twisting on the balls of her feet, she backstepped into a somersault,
rolled out of it, and jumped into a flying side kick. Landing, she swept an
invisible opponent's feet, delivered a large roundhouse, and "finished" him
with three punches appropriating for blocks. Backpeddling, she found herself
"faced" by two opponents, moved between them, and synchronized a set of kicks
and punches between the two, with speed that registered an impression on the
faces behind the mirrors.
Settling back into the precise center of the room, she wiped a bead
of sweat from under her breast, and licked her finger. For the first time,
she grinned.
He watched her perform a deadly dance, and those around him
empathized with his attraction. Generally, his withdrawn preference for
geisha would normally satisfy his needs, but the more he watched his captive,
the more he became captivated with her. "Go!" he ordered the ninjas along
the mirror. They filed out of the room. Their footsteps went unheard as
they climbed a staircase.
To their mark, their silence betrayed them. As they landed on three
points, they surrounded her. When all seven of them finished dropping from
the unseen ceiling, they each brandished a weapon or two, except for one. He
held his hands forward in claws, mimicking a tiger in style.
She rose from her lotus position, her robe several feet away outside
of the circle. Standing tall, she approached the unarmed one, walking with
no regard to the others. Reaching into the guard stance, she lifted the mask
partially to reveal the snarl. Lacking no grace, she moved her lips over
that snarl while her hands worked at his waist. Her fingers as deft as her
body, she accomodated his pants around his erection.
His claws fell to more intensive than destructive actions. His
fingers grazed over her face, and continued down her body, caressing her
shoulders first, then moving under her breasts, immediately testing their
firmness. Before he could explore further, she had already impaled herself
on him, without any of his assistance.
Immediately, the clatter of metal on stone erupted as the ninjas
dropped their respective weaponry. Their hands sought out to touch what they
had not suspected they could. One other was so bold as to adjust his
garments to introduce his own member to the situation.
Seeing her legs wrapped around his brethen's, the smooth skin being
caressed by the hands of more, he asserted his authority as the second of the
leader. Moving behind her, his hands traced the crack of her buttocks, and
pressed his flesh between hers. Her head turned to see him, and her eyes
pulled him closer. Thrusting her hips back, she affected the impalement, and
loosed her legs. Her arms stretched out, as well as her legs, as she placed
her full weight onto their conjunctions.
Hands moved to support her, as well as fondle her, but the two who
had her felt as though they were one with her. Any pleasure to be had seemed
to be given to them. They felt their own bodies penetrated while they were
the ones penetrating. Unable to hold back anything, they groaned a final
syllable, only to finally disipate into smoke.
She landed on the floor, catching herself from bruises. The rest of
the group ignored this and one immediately moved behind her and spread her
thighs apart. Bearing no ceremony, he encunted her on as she fell to fours.
Looking back, she said nothing, but pounded back at him. Tossing her head to
shift her hair, she encountered a member inches from her nose. Glancing up
to the unseen face for acknoledgement, she touched her tongue to the tip of
it. Accepting the notion, she accepted its length smoothly into her mouth
and partially down her throat.
The last three waited away from her, removing the bands of fabric
from their bodies. As she bounced in the odd rhythm between her two captors,
they surrounded her. Sensing every last pleasure in the tryst, they watched
as the primal groan marked the dissolution of the two "captors". The smoke
still clung to her form, which showed no stress.
She waited on four as one entered her anus, pushing aside the last
wisps of his comrade. His hands reached forward and clutched her breasts.
In this pose, he lifted her onto him, and fell with his back to the floor.
Another then moved between her spread legs and entered her frontwise. As a
moan escaped her, it was stifled by the last, driving himself between her
lips.
Any motion she made stimulated her, and every one in her. This she
recieved, and rebroadcast to them. As they felt the wave wash over them,
they redoubled any effort for an exponential effect. Feeling every last bit
of their passions, she began to take it all and not leak it for a few
minutes. Their motions hastened in hopes to heighten the sensation, but it
was always take away. In a final surge, she screamed as well as she could,
and shuddered in an intensity that sent her reeling into unconsciousness, as
her final stock of stolen orgasm washed over her assailants, sending them
into smoke.
The fragrance overwhelmed her peace, as she jerked her head up,
instinctively batting aside the smelling salts. Before her stood a tall,
finely dressed oriental with a perfectly trimmed beard and sunken eyes. She
met those contemplating eyes unflinchingly.
She opened the conversation, "You were there." Her voice echoed in
the cavern with which she was all to familiar.
He lips remained still.
In her head, a voice boomed with a deepness that defied her
indifference. ~Not like that,~ it said.
"Wha-?" she began, only to have the voice return.
~A thought is a river, while a voice is a waterfall. The water can
get from one level to another without the waterfall.~
Understanding, she responded, ~Like this?~
~Precisely.~
~Who are you?~
~You will refer to me as the Mandarin, always in the third person.~
~Why would I do that?~ she questioned him.
~You are mine, mind, body, and whatever else lies under that skin.~
~And if I choose otherwise?~
~You won't choose otherwise.~ He held up a hand. On each manicured
finger rested a ring, each with a different stone. ~I can have you choose to
do anything I want.~
She felt her pulse rise, and however much she despised him, she was
unable to stop herself from kneeling before him and bowing her head at his
feet, her breasts crushed against her knees. With clenched teeth, she
remained on her knees, but stood to his waist. Her arms, defying her
thoughts, moved to his suit pants, first unbuckling the belt, then undoing
the button, and dropping the zipper. Reaching under the lapels of his shirt,
she withdrew his rampant member.
~Go on,~ he directed.
~You fucking bastard. Just because you can control my body doesn't
mean you own me.~ She continued projecting her thoughts as her lips wrapped
around him. ~Even as you control my actions, my thoughts will always be my
own.~
~Ah, the cry of self-proclaimed righteousness.~
~The body is a temple. Upon desecration, the temple may no longer be
holy, but that doesn't mean the spirits inside aren't.~
~To be sucked by such a metaphorical slut. A pleasure not to be
wasted by mental bondage.~ Withdrawing himself from her lips, he withdrew
roughly from her mind as well, leaving her with a headache.
~If you don't keep me under your control, I'll kill you the first
chance I get.~
~Why not now? I swear on the honor of my family, I won't use my mind
control ring.~
Leering up at him, she launched herself with catlike speed at him.
He dove to his right, his member, glistening with her saliva, still hard as
the stone they walked on. Turning the rings covering his fingers to aim the
stones inwards, he fell to the tiger stance demonstrated before. She closed
the distance, and faced him. Sending a direct punch at his face, she
measured his blocks. Blocking her punch, he measured her speed. Countering
with a footsweep, she jumped over it sending a foot to the back of his thigh,
launching herself away while landing the hit. Feeling the bruise, he
hardened his style a bit more, and learned from his mistake.
Approaching her, he kept his hands in an open stance, inviting her
attack. Waiting for his retaliation, she kept a low stance, her feet wide
for stability, her fists clenched. They could each hear the other's heart
beating, as well as each breath taken. The conflict had maintained his
arousal, and had heightened hers. Due to her stance, her shaved lips were
parted wide, and a drop fell from one. As it landed on the floor, a single
heartbeat changed ever so slightly, but he understood the timing better than
anyone in the world. Stepping in, he sent an open left hand to her face.
Drawing the crosswise block, his right grasped her left wrist as it
contacted. Flipping over her, wrist still in hand, he avoided her kick, and
proceeded to hold her helpless.
His member pressing between her buttocks, he controlled every muscle
in his body, and penetrated her anus, receiving a large shudder from her.
Still holding her close, he ground into her. Her control began to wane at
the sudden rush of sensation. His arms let her go, and gripped her by the
waist. Reeling, she began to fall to the floor, but her hands caught her,
for naught, being that he anchored her sufficiently.
Even as her hatred for him flowed, their connection seemed so primal
that denying it only strengthened it. His skill as a fighter was matched by
his skill as a lover. His mood matched hers at the time, blazened and
energetic. Every stroke he made into her was fluid enough to make her
anticipate the next. Tears welled in her eyes as she passed from orgasm to
orgasm. Screaming by voice and mind, she send the waves of the pleasures
back into the Mandarin.
Unprepared for the projection, he ended on a final long stoke into
her, sending his seed deep into her bowels. Completely drained, he collapsed
onto her, remaining inside her. No geisha had ever done that to him before.
"Betsy, why didn't you tell anyone else about this?"
"I don't know, professor. You see, right after I came out of the
Seige Perilous, I didn't know what was happening. Everything I was before
was but an appendage to my current state. I felt more than whole. Actually,
overflowing."
"Well, I don't think the other X-Men need to know about this. As
long as the team operates without problems, and in particular, you can
operate without any problems, then the matter can be dealt with at our
lesuire."
"Thank you for listening, professor. I'm going to take a walk around
the mansion, try to unwind. Good night, professor."
"Good night, Betsy." His stern demeanor held some comfort for
dealing with the personal natures of each of his students. Everyone knew he
cared, and everyone cared for him, but every night, his dreams carried him
off into the universe, in search of his only love.
Cyclops rubbed his eyes under his glasses. He seemed to be doing
that a lot, as of late. The book Jean gave him had its merits, but his
attention span seemed to shorten whenever he thought about the work he had to
do. So many unmonitored mutant groups out there, and he was awake at two in
the morning letting his eyes pass over words to which he paid no heed.
Getting out of bed, he was careful not to disturb Jean. Padding over
to the bathroom, he removed his ruby quartz glasses and splashed his face
with some lukewarm water. Replacing his glasses, he slowly opened his eyes,
and returned to bed. Exchanging his glasses for the eye covers Forge made,
he slipped under the covers. Slipping his legs around one of Jean's, he
moved close to her face. Blowing her a kiss across the inches between them,
he rested.
"What was that supposed to be?" she whispered.
"I didn't want to wake you," he whispered back.
"A little late for that. What were you up so late for?"
"Just reading, and thinking?" a moment later, he almost regretted
telling her.
"Thinking about what?"
Hesitation. "I was thinking about you." ~Don't get too corny, or
she'll catch on.~ "How peaceful you looked, asleep."
"You're getting all sentimental on me, Scott." She looked at him.
"I like that."
He moved closer and kissed her. "I love you, Jean." ~Be careful
here, Scott. Know when to talk, and when to fuck.~ His hand crept between
them, and cupped a breast through her neglige. Pulling her into a longer
kiss with his other hand, he felt a momentary tension in her, but it faded
quickly. Pulling her closer with his legs, he also rubbing his knee between
her thighs.
She immediately pressed her lips closer to him, and opened them to
receive his tongue, intertwining it with her own. Telekinetically, she
raised her neglige to give him better access. Her red hair matched
perfectly, as he well knew. Finishing with her own clothing, she took care
of his, pushing his thin pajama shorts to his feet.
He slid the covers down and rolled over on top of her. Sliding
himself between her spread legs, he wasted no time in entering her. Her
wetness was nothing spectacular, but present enough to stop any discomfort.
With long, slow strokes, he drove himself into her. Her eyes were closed,
concentrating on him within her. He stretched his neck, and while turning
it, he caught a glimpse of a figure in the doorway.
The door slightly ajar, he tried to focus in the pale moonlight on
who it could be. Before he could finish focusing, he heard something that
wasn't quite there. ~Quiet, Scott. She might decide to scan you mind or
look my way.~ It was then his vision cleared to perceive Psylocke. She
leaned halfway through the opening, her back on the trim around the door. He
could see a hand under the scanty top she wore as her outfit. Her other hand
he could see worked under the high hipped bottom she wore. No light came
from the hallway, but he seemed to be quite aware of her every movement.
Mechanically, he worked at Jean, his eyes directed to Psylocke, her
face a mask of pleasure. ~Rough job, there, boy. You guys must really be in
love, because your so careful not to hurt each other. I'm impressed.~ Even
in telepathy, the sour note of sarcasm could be tasted.
At that, Scott recalled every last time he made love to Jean, and
Madelyne Prior, her clone. They most variety they got was choosing between
the missionary position or an inversion thereof. ~Good history, Scott. I'll
leave you two alone. I think I need a walk by the river.~ Scott balked at
the underlying invitation. Returning to Jean, he closed his eyes and kissed
her neck. He imagined the breasts at his fingertips to be another's. He
renewed his energy with this image, and with a long final stroke, spurt into
her, whoever she was.
"Scott, God, you're great." She wrapped her arms around him, but his
mind was elsewhere.
"Great. Now you got me full of energy. I can't sleep now. Maybe
I'll go for a walk or a Danger Room session." He moved to get up.
"Wait, I'll go with you." She stirred in the bed.
"No. I think one of us should be wide awake tomorrow."
"If you think so. I love you."
"Yeah, I love you, too, Jean." He bent down to kiss her. Holding
her there for a few seconds, he bent up, grabbed his outfit and walked to the
bathroom. Rinsing off in the shower, he suited up, and left the room,
closing the door he knew was closed before.
Under the waxing gibbous moon, along the edge of the river just
outside the main grounds of the mansion, Psylocke sat with crossed legs,
wrists facing up resting on her knees. Her purple skin tight outfit she wore
with the team lay on the ground seven feet away. The air was comfortable for
the hour, but dew still settled on the grass. The east sky remained as dark
as the rest of the sky. From the direction of the mansion, she could count
the number of leaves he brushed against as Cyclops approached.
"Betsy? You out here?"
"Of course, Scott."
As his eyes found her, he was tempted to turn away. "Don't you think
you should have something on?"
"Of course, Scott," she repeated. She stood and approached him.
Before he could react, she grabbed him by the shoulders, and dragged him down
to the ground, her back settling into the wet grass. "But it's so much nicer
to have someONE on."
Pulling his face down to hers, she met his hesitant lips and sought
out his tongue. Removing a hand from the back of his head, she reached down
to his belt. Undoing Forge's uncanny technology, the belt came off in
pieces, or modules as he so fondly called them. After that, it was
elementary to free the bulge forming in his trousers.
Scott was slow to break the kiss. "Betsy, I don't think we should
really do this."
"There is a barrier between the body and the words. And its name is
Jean. The woman you've loved for all of you life as and X-man is all you've
known. Your empty horizons on the emotional front have closed your eyes to
what is just beyond."
"Betsy... Please...." Now she had his member in her hand, softly
kneeding it to solidity.
"Scott. You're shaking. Come now, relax. I want to do this for you."
"Oh, God, Betsy. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you
since you left to visit your brother in England." Now she was slowly
stroking him, even though he was resting on top of her.
"Then continue to think about me." She positioned herself under him
and guided the tip of his member to her flushed lips. They parted as she
spread her legs wider, and she gently pulled him down, sinking him slowly
into her. She moaned aloud, to match his. "Come on, Scott. Fuck me, do me
harder. I'm not Jean."
"No, you definitely aren't. Oh, my God Betsy!" His exclamation
coming from her ability to control every last bit of her musculature.
Exhausting, but unspent, she raised up her legs, pulling them up to her
shoulders. Scott stopped for a moment, to finish the positioning, and
replaced his hands on either side of her. She then draped her legs over his
shoulders, affecting a deeper penetration.
"Okay. Fuck me as hard as you can, Scott. You can do it." You can
do it, oh fearless leader, she thought.
He obliged, driving himself into her, pushing her in the grass. Her
hands gripped his shoulders as her back arched with every thrust, trying to
meet him every time. While his mind was fully spent on his own carnal
gratification, she was able to slip in past his mental defences, the ones he
originally had for Jean. Once inside, she was able to find the right
switches to make to take him completely. Leaving a few impressions, she
cleared a path for later suggestion.
As her groans gave way to voiceless breath, she brought each of them
to a simultaneous orgasm. His first spurts firing deep into her, she pulled
him out to have his seed spill onto her belly and breasts. Her hands went to
rub it over her skin. He pulled her legs off of his shoulders, and set his
hands to help her rub his liquid over her sleek flesh. Triggering one of her
controls on him, she induced a production of endorphins along with new surge
of testosterone. With the next trigger, she urged his adrenals to produce
some fresh adrenaline. This resulted in a burst of energy, and
irrationality.
Knowing this, she removed the petty block his morals put up against
his responses. To initiate the activity, she pushed him away. "Get away
from me, you lousy, cheating scum." Hanging around Jubilee did have its
effects.
"Oh, is this how it is. You tease for months on end, but when it
comes time to deliver, you're nothing but a two bit whore. One that needs
some appropriate punishment." At this, he slapped her face. His mouth
snarling in rage, he slapped her again. She rolled with these, and covered
her nipples with her hands. In a fit of anger, he ripped her hands from her
breasts. "Don't you dare cover yourself." He seemed to forget about her
ninja skills, and did not seem to wonder why they failed to manifest
themselves. His hand slapped at her breasts from the side.
Struggling weakly, and falsely, she was turned over, her hips pulled
back to meet his rampant tool. Holding her by the thighs, he drove himself
into her waiting vagina. Slapping at her buttocks frequently, he ignored her
powerful orgasm, except for the fact it layered his member with fluid.
Pulling out of her, he placed himself at her anus. With no mercy, he forced
himself to the hilt in a single push. At this, her body went limp. She
screamed, knowing that the area was acoustically ideal for her seduction. He
pounded into her rear, feeling assured he was punishing her. Ideas coming
from "nowhere", he decided on how to finish it off.
Standing up, and pulling her to her knees, he presented himself to
her lips. As she opened her eyes, she saw, and already knew what to do.
"Clean me up, you worthless slut."
"Please, no..." she pleaded, continuing the scenario.
"Just for that, as soon as you're done, we're going to start all over
again." She took him in hand first, placed her tongue on the tip, and slowly
took him deeper. In mock (but true) acceptance, she worked him deeper into
her mouth, as his head lolled back. His hands grabbed her hair and pushed
the rest of his length into her mouth and throat. Ignoring her sense of
taste, she sucked on him at length. Almost removing himself from her, he
drove back in to be sucked for a while. After several slow strokes, he
started thrusting into her in a quickening rhythm. At the height of it, he
withdrew entirely, pulling her hair back, tilting her face, he sent his load
over her face, his first spurts landing on her cheeks, his later ones welling
by her eyes and running into her hair.
"Okay, now we're going to start over." Still completely rampant, he
let go of her hair, threw her to the ground, stomach down, and placed his tip
at her puckered rear entrance. With little ceremony, he plunged himself back
into her. "Maybe this will stop your teasing, you little slut. Maybe you'll
finally understand what makes a team leader." His hands slapped at her rear
as he thrust mercilessly. "I think I know what you need." He grinned
fiercely, and put his glasses on his forhead, revealing his closed eyes.
Then, squinting, he let out tiny bursts of energy at her back.
She gasped as the concussion of the small blast knocked the wind out
of her. Struggling to get a full breath as he razed her back, she felt her
body wracked with orgasms unending. Making sure all of this was being lodged
into his conscious memory, she send a burst of her orgasmic emotion into him,
just as she passed out, losing her control over him.
Releasing a full blast into her by his mutant ability, he also
spilled himself fully into her. Collapsing on top of her, he began to
shrink, and regret. As he came back to his senses, he paid attention to the
flesh beneath his. He realized who he was with, and what he had done. "Oh,
God. What have I done?" his cliche echoed in his mind. Images of what had
just happened rushed back to him. Fixing his clothing, he began to weigh his
options. Turning her over, he tried not to marvel over her body, and checked
her breating and pulse. Finding it all in order, he decided it would be safe
to leave.
He appreciated the fact that his power did little to human flesh. It
seemed to be something about the resonances in the carbon atoms that consist
the body that change his blasts to something more than concussive force and
nerve overloading. Metal, however, seemed to be rended quite easily, or
bashed, depending on the frequency set.
Finding his way back to the mansion, he jumped into the shower,
rinsed off, and slipped in next to Jean, beating the sun by a couple hours.
"Tell, me chere. As afraid of me as you may seem to be, I'm always
ahead of the sitaution." He held up a foil packet in his classic two finger
pose.
"Ah think, Remy, that a li'l ol' rubber ain't gonna keep our skins
from touchin'."
"But, then, chere, that's what this is for," he retorted as he pulled
out a sheer green body suit, full length. "Try it on, for me, hmm?"
"Ah'd really like to know what ya' have in mind, cajun." She walked
by him, and pulled the item from his fingers. "Ah tell ya' what. Ah'll show
you mine if you show me yours."
"Of course." He draped his overcoat over the chair by the door.
First, unbuttoning his tailored shirt, he watched as she undid her buttons.
Simultaneously, they slipped them over their shoulders and let them fall to
the ground. Since she first absorbed her powers from Ms. Marvel, she found
that a bra was no longer needed. Obscure superpowers indeed. Next he doffed
his tight pants, his shoes gone since his jacket. She slowly, teasingly,
lowered her skirt, leaving her in high hipped panties. His bulge lurched, as
it lurked behind his bikini briefs.
Making the first final move, he slid his briefs down as she dropped
her panties, blushing. "Now, there, chere. Nothing to worry about. Just
slip on my little gift there, and soon you can slip on my big gift here."
"Oh, shush. Some uh us uh tryin' to be modest." She stretched the
fabric at the neck. Careful not to stretch too far, she slipped in. At
first having a hard time with it, she found that it stretch far more than she
thought. Catching some gloves he tossed to her, she slipped those on as
well, finding they matched her outfit.
"Don't you look absolutely delicious in that. Let me taste you."
"Watch it, Gambit. Even just --"
"--the slightest touch would have your head full o' me. I know.
Watch this." His hand cupped her breast, its nipple coming to attention
immediately. "Don't ya' see, I ain't touchin' ya', but you're still feelin'
me."
"Oh, Remy. Do some more."
"I intend to." He placed his lips around the other nipple, wetting
the suit to full transparency. His hands first kneeded at her breasts, then
moved to her rear. She moaned under his expert caresses, and gave in to his
every touch. Stepping back, he pulled a knife from his nearby shirt cuff
(the place most theives carry them). At her groin, he made a small incision
in the thin material. She watched him, wary of his every movement. Finding
the condom, she opened the package, and sat up to roll it onto him.
Carefully, they moved to the bed, trying to keep in contact, and she
lay down. Spreading her legs for him, he knelt between them. "Oh, chere,
what I wouldn't give to have a condom for my tongue." She blushed, but said
nothing.
Guiding him in, he seemed quite adept at holding the fabric apart as
he wedged his way into her.
"Tell me, chere. What nasties did those boys do to you back on
Genosha, back when you and Wolvie were stuck there?"
"If you're wonderin' if ah'm a virgin, ah'm not." She grinned weakly
at him.
Knowing not to ask any more questions, he slowly moved himself into
her. Watching her face, holding her eyes with his, he lodged himself deeply
within her. "Oh, Remy. All ah want ya' to do is be careful."
"I intend to." He slowly stroked in and out. Her arms wrapped
around him as he quickened his pace. Pulling him as deep as he could go, she
pushed him away as she found her very first orgasm outside of her own
fingers.
"Here, Remy. Try this, instead. Ah've always wanted to have it like
this." She got onto her knees, and looked back at him.
Caught a bit off guard, he took his place behind her and repositioned
the slit to accomodate hers. Acquiring the angle, he entered her again. She
moaned more, and reached back to stroke herself. His hands found her breasts
again, and worked her flesh most enticingly. Holding back on his orgasm, he
waited for hers. As she shuddered and collapsed onto the bed, he sent his
load into the barrier that kept them a millimeter apart.
"Oh, chere. I'd give up every other memory, if I could only remember
this." Laying down next to her, he held in the nested spoons position. "As
long as I lost my memories that way."
"For all ah want to, Remy, ah don't think ya' we should sleep so
close. Even the most casual contact would mean me stealin' your powers and
mem'ries. For now, we can do that as much as we like, which ah do like. But
let's sleep in our own beds, 'kay?"
"Fine, chere. Let's get together real soon." Dropping the condom,
he got up, donned his overcoat, left his clothes, and left the room.
Rogue sat in bed, tears welling in her eyes as she tried to explain
to herself why she kept him so far away.
Gambit fumed as he walked down the hall. For all they wanted each
other, they weren't allowed to be themselves. As he stepped into his own
room, he dropped his overcoat on the floor, and went to the shower. Rinsing
off, he stretched in the middle of the room before he noticed the perfectly
silent and prone figure in the darkest shadow of the room. "Jeez, chere.
You tryin' to scare Gambit's ghost before I even die?"
"No. You just looked so raw. I didn't want to disturb you."
"Burnt is more like it." Hunting for a conclusion, "Were you spyin'
on Rogue and me?"
"Not necessarily spying, but paying attention to your thoughts, yeah."
"Then you can hear whay I'm thinkin' now." ~Get out.~
"I was just thinking of finishing your evening for you. You can
touch me, Gambit. You don't need to worry about touching me, Gambit, ever."
Projecting as strongly as she could, ~You don't need any condoms either, for
cock or tongue. I'll show you mine if you show me yours.~
"Problem bein', I'm already showin' you mine."
Psylocke stood to full height, and stepped from the shadows, showing
her own lack of clothing. "I was ready before you came into the room." She
toyed with his perceptions, and morals. Placing random beacons, she mapped
out his mind and found the nerve centers she required.
"Then the evening may turn out after all."
"I should certainly hope so, Gambit."
"Call me Remy, in times like this."
"Call me Betsy."
"Then, Betsy, I'll suck yours if you suck mine."
"I'd love to, Remy." They fell to the floor. She laid him on the
floor and placed her knees around he ears. In unison, their hands sought
what was right in front of their faces, and brought their mouthes to each
other. His fingers parted her clean shaven lips and his tongue found its way
to her core. Her tongue stroked along his length and then she fully engulfed
him. Bucking her hips onto his face, she moved up and down his length,
sucked as hard as she could, and then repeated herself. His tongue traced
the alphabet in her, and spelled out "clit" just before he tongued that as
well. At that moment, they each sent their fluids to the other.
She turned to face him, and impaled herself on him before he could
utter a work. Rising and sinking on him, she just watched his
expressionlessness as she worked into his mind for his true feelings. Upon
finding nothing, she implanted several of the same tendencies in him as she
did Scott. Awakening the lust inside him, she switched him to a subservient
mode and got onto his bed. Spreading her legs wide, she had him stand
between her legs and slide into her. Having him lean forward on her breasts,
she had him perform on her for a good hour, before letting him feel any of
the pleasure.
After that position, she turned over, as though tanning, and had him
enter her from that angle. Enjoying several orgasms, she tailored his
memories to fade the fringes of these images to leave the memories as dreams.
As he pounded into her, she finally directed him to her anus. Sending a
small orgasm through his body, she had him eject a portion of his seed for
lubrication. Sending him in, she recalled her time with Cyclops and planned
for the upcoming days and nights. Driving himself into her, his dreamlike
stamina had been incredible. Reaching the teens in the number of orgasms she
found from his indominatable manhood at her back door, she allowed him to
spew his seed deep into her. Sated, she sent him to bed, to sleep, to wake
with only a slight recollection of the night as a dream.
The sun found the bell tower of the mansion, but the trees kept it
away from the bedroom windows for another hour. The halls were virtually
empty. The pattering of falling water seemed to be the loudest sound this
morning. In the kitchen a short, burly man scrambled some eggs. Off to the
side sat various meats and vegetables. A young oriental girl in blue striped
pajamas and a serious pout loomed over the refrigerator, deciding on a
breakfast.
"You're not having cereal again this morning. I'm making the team an
omelet. We're going to need a good meal before our weekly Danger Room
session, or at least the rest of you will."
"Back off, Wolvie. I just want some OJ, okay?" She really did want
cereal, but decided to put up with him now, and save her arguements for
another time.
"Then pour some for the rest of the team. I want to be training by
ten this morning."
"Which team? The blue team, or all of the X-men in the mansion?"
"We only have enough eggs for the blue team. The rest can fend for
themselves."
"What about Jean?" Jubilee knew nothing of Wolverine's view of Jean.
"What about her? If she shows up, fine. If not, then so what?"
Taken slightly aback, "It's just that she and Cyclops usually eat
breakfast together."
"Like I said, if she eats with us, fine by me." Jubilee just sat and
stared at him. Wolverine finished making the omelets, making two different
kinds, for those who felt vegetarian today.
"Here, Jubes. You can make the hash browns while I go get everyone up."
"Why do I have to?"
"Do you want to see Beast without his hair combed?" he gave her a
wary glance.
"I'll make the hash browns, fine." She cringed at some images of an
even more unkempt blue haired mutant. She scolded herself for not coming up
her verbal riposte, "Would that be worse than you right now?" before he left
the room.
Wolverine wore his yellow pants and stylized boots but no shirt. His
dark hair seemed overgrown over his chest, but his dark eyes and ageless look
seemed to hold everyone right where he wanted them.
Knocking on Rogue's door, he opened it slightly, poking in his head.
"Rogue, come on, Belle. I've got break--" he was caught off guard when he
saw her.
Rogue lay on her bed, still in the body suit Gambit gave her, the
covers kicked down. She lay in a runner's stride facing him. Her eyes
remained closed for a few seconds until she realized what had cut Wolverine
off. Her nipples were erect and dried wet patches had set in over them. At
her groin the rip had spread to open her entire mound to the air. Her lower
lips were flushed and swollen and her eyes seemed glazed over when they did
open. When a tear fell from each, she blinked, and her vanity took over.
Wolverine could smell the activities of the previous night, but was
prudent enough not to say anything. "I made some breakfast. Come on." He
closed the door softly behind him.
Next he went further down the hall to Gambit's room. Throwing the
door open, he yelled, "Rise and shine, Cajun." The scent that overwhelmed
him was partially similar to that of Rogue's room, but it held flavors
greater, sweeter. "I'm calling the team together for a decent breakfast."
Shaking his head, Gambit answered back, "Yeah, yeah. Get me on the
way back, gramps."
Continuing his quest for the team, he walked further down the hall to
Beast's quarters. Ready to yell, he found the blue furred member of the team
reading on a couch. "Greetings, second-furriest. From all of your ranting
this fine morning, I expect you have something planned. Give me another
couple minutes for me to finish these couple hundred pages."
"Sure. Back at the kitchen." The Beast had already gone back to
flipping pages.
Approaching the door to the corner room of Scott Summers and Jean
Grey, Logan passed a hand through his hair, and knocked politely. The door
was ajar, and he stepped in. Looking around, he saw Cyclops asleep, alone in
bed. From around the corner walked Jean, completely naked. For all his
years, he was still taken aback by her beauty, and was still affected by it.
She held his gaze for a few seconds, unmoving. Water dripped down her smooth
skin, and her hair clung to her face and neck. The hair above perfectly
matched that below, and he took in her looks every second he had. Her scent
enraptured him, drawing him closer.
"Please, Jean, don't do this to me." He was at her mercy.
Saying nothing, she turned on her heels, giving him a good view of
her rear, and stepped back into the bathroom. From there she yelled, "Scott,
wake up. Duty calls." Scott stirred a little bit, but Logan just left the
room in a cold sweat.
Going down this final hall, he knocked on Psylocke's door. Opening
it, thinking nothing could be worse, he found her nude, lifting weights,
while hanging from the ceiling by gravity boots. "Betsy, I have some
breakfast ready." Her body was covered with sweat, and it was clear that she
hadn't slept all night. But the scent that prevailed over the room was not
that of hard work, but that of an extreme sexual nature. Doing a few more
pumps, she dropped the weights and began to wipe the sweat from her body.
Hanging there, running her hands over her skin, she just stared at him.
After he blinked a few times, she did a sit up, and grabbed onto the
bar from which she hung. Looking a lot like a bat with the best looking
heart shaped rear, she unhooked herself and dropped down from the ceiling,
landing on three points, her legs spread wide behind her. Bending down to
unbuckle her boots, she held his gaze. Pulling a robe off of a hook on the
wall, she pulled it on. Walking to Wolverine, standing in front of him, she
knelt in front of him, pulled his tights down over his bulging member, and
engulfed it fully. Time seemed to stand still, and he worried about everyone
waiting for him. His hands went to pull her head away, but stayed at the
sides of her head as she worked at him.
Her fingers massaged his engorged sac as her lips reached his base.
Feeling him tense, his fabled stamina depleated to those lovely lips, she
withdrew from him and stroked him, directing him down at her open robe. Just
then, his seed spewed over her breasts. Load upon thick load fell upon her
chest. As Wolverine's shudders died down, she closed her robe and tied the
belt.
Pulling his pants back up, he led her out of the room.
"Hey, Wolvie. What took so long? I mean, if Gambit beat you back
here, your age must be getting to you." She didn't dare assume anything when
it came to his hidden agendas. Sitting at a small nearby table, Gambit,
already in his outfit, ate the breakfast prepared earlier. Rogue sat
partially on a countertop eating her share. Beast hung from a conveniently
placed bar in the corner of the extended kitchen. Just down the hall came
the leader of the team, struggling with each step, still quite dazed, Jean
helping him along.
Gambit looked at Psylocke every few moments, turning his attention
back down to his food, his eyes never meeting Rogue's all through breakfast.
Scott's head always kept Betsy in view, even though Jean stood right next to
him. Jubilee stepped next to Logan, and Betsy went to get her share.
Wolverine glanced around nervously, wondering why no one else could smell
what had just happened. Jean held his gaze, but his fear of discovery was
more disconcerting than her look.
Gambit was the next to address Logan, "So, you got sum'tin' planned
fo' us today, Wolverine?"
Hesitating a moment, he responed, "I spent all night working on a
Danger Room sequence that should prepare us for our next mission. Charlie
told me yesterday about what we have to do. It's supposed to be simple, but
we have to be ready for anything. Of course, the Danger Room is only for the
fighting aspects of the mission, but the opponents we might be facing would
be rather unique, even for us. I'll explain it in the briefing room.
Scotty, make sure you bring the mission folder Chuck left in your room
yesterday."
"Yeah, sure." He was clearly out of it, still. As he looked at
Psylocke, she refused to engage in eye contact. Jean nudged him, and they
just dabbled in the hash browns.
Psylocke stood by herself in front of the sink, vaguely listening.
Rogue approached her, saying, "Hey, Bets. You been workin' early this
mornin'? Ah think you been a bit too serious, lately."
"No, Rogue. I've just been trying to sort some things out. How are
you and Gambit doing?"
"As well as any couple could without kissin'. You know, you should
use that body o' yours to get yourself a man. Ah think you'd feel a lot
better."
At the suggestion, Beast nonwithstanding, the men kept Betsy in the
corner of an eye, and an ear directed straight at her, awaiting the reply.
"I'm not sure if I should. I think I've gotten through everything
pretty well, just by keeping an arms distance from personal."
"Come on, I've got to have someone to live my fantasies for me."
'If only you knew' Psylocke thought, but didn't project. "Let me
know sometime, then. Maybe I can get some juicy gossip for your sick
libido." Psylocke made sure to smile when she said it, drawing the laugh.
Logan interjected, "Since our fearless leader doesn't seem to be
quite here yet, Everyone to the War Room in fifteen minutes. Jean, you can
come along, too, if you want."
"I think I will. Thank you, Logan." She let her eyes linger, just
to make sure he was uncomfortable.
"Well, Rogue, I've got to shower before our big briefing here, so
I'll see you there."
Beast watched everyone, silently noting the oddness.
In her shower, Betsy stayed apart from the water for a few minutes,
dabbling her fingers in the stream occasionally to wet them down. The shower
consisted of a large glass encasement, with a couple steps down to the drain
level. After rubbing Wolverine's seed over her, she sat directed the water
down onto her.
Her fingers rubbing between her legs, she inserted her left index
finger. Slowly moving this around, she added her middle finger, and moved
those around inside of her. Then her ring finger joined them in their
attempt to fill her. Bending down, but remaining seated, she put in her
pinky as well. Moving this around for a full minute, she tired of the few
inches she could displace. Brushing her thumb across her clit, she shuddered
just before she worked her thumb in to join them. Concentrating deeply, and
shutting out the water beating down on her, she kept her hand folded to its
smallest radius. Inch by inch, she worked her entire hand into herself.
Twisting around, she fingered her own deepest recesses. Taking a deep
breath, she made a fist and moved it back and forth. Her arm tiring fast,
she allowed her orgasms to sweep over her, just as she manifested her psychic
knife.
Pulling her fist from her spasming cunt, she collected her fluids
with both hands. Lifting this up to her face, she opens her mouth, and lets
it fall over her face, some of it landing in her mouth. Running her hands
through her hair, she rinsed off in the falling stream, using no soap.
"Scott, you've never been like this before. You're so distant and
cold. Did I do something wrong last night?"
"No, Jean. It's just that I feel unsure of myself as a leader."
"Scott, everyone looks up to you, even Wolverine in his own way. You
just hold everyone in such a place that you can't touch them, even if their
lives are in your hands. Everyone holds an affection for everyone else on
the team, and it's your judgement that makes sure that affection is where it
should be, in the open and comfortably among us. They don't need a cold
leader, they need a passionate one."
"Thank you, Jean. Are you up for a quickie? You said passion, so
I'd like to show you first."
"Oh, Scott. You are just so strange today."
"You didn't answer me."
"Scott. How can you think of sex at a time like this?"
"Let's see. I see a bodacious redhead in front of me, I have an
aching erection, and you tell me to be passionate. Then let me." He scooped
her up in his arms. Dropping her face down onto the bed, he found the nearly
invisible seam of her outfit and pulled her pants down to her ankles.
Pulling his own down to accomodate his bulging member, he placed the head at
her wetting threshold.
"Scott! You've never been like this before."
He reached forward and grabbed her breasts, pulling her down onto
him. They each let out a hard breath. Scott then proceeded to set his
rhythm. His abruptness brought her to one rapid orgasm immediately, which
further wet the way for him. After she found a more fulfilling one, he
removed himself from her, pulled her up to face him, and pushed her to her
knees in front of him.
"I don't think you've ever done this before. Try it."
"Scott, I don't think I want too."
"I'm not going to force you to, but if you don't then just kneel there."
Jean hesitated, and turned her head to cry. Ignoring her, Scott
moved his hand over himself, aiming straight at her. Feeling the rush reach
that unstoppable point, he put a hand on Jean's cheek, and turned her face
towards his quivering member. Holding her face there, he spewed his load
onto her face, droplets clinging to her eyebrows and eyelashes, covering her
lips.
Wiping himself on her hair, he replaced himself in his pants and left
the room. Holding herself in her degraded state, she whimpered, dropped a
couple tears, and as she headed for the bathroom, licked her lips.
In the War Room, Psylocke was the last to show up. Cyclops stood
proudly in front of everyone, several monitors behind him displaying their
recent history. Jean sat in the back of the room, as did Gambit.
"Over the next few weeks, we will be encountering a new threat to
humanity, both normal and mutant. First of all, the Acolytes and the
Upstarts are getting together to restart the Hellfire Club. If those two
groups were to function together, very little would stand in their way, since
they have connections across the board including anyone left with claims to
Magneto and the Hand. They have a full range of powers amongst themselves,
and the backing to set themselves up as the foremost Superpower on the
planet.
"Assisting us will be X-Factor. The Gold team, sans Jean, is with
the Professor in the Balkans putting down the new mutant uprising."
Into the room walked the five members of the team: Alex Summers, aka
Havok, Lorna Dane aka Polaris, Jamie Madrox aka Multiple Man, Guido aka
Strong Guy, and Pietro Maximoff aka Quicksilver.
Madrox was given a lot of responsibility. He was to run the base
operations from the mansion, and also participate on the main adventure
group.
"So, where is Xavier, Scott?" Val Cooper asked.
"He's off with the other team saving the western world again."
"Well, I hope he gets back to give some insight to all of these
missions. Anyways, I want to say goodbye to my team for a little while here.
I get to stay here and run things while you guys are off running a tab on
property damage."
"To each our own."
"Havok, remember, you're just as good as your brother, if not
better." She grimaced at the innuendo. "Have fun." She swayed her hips at
him as she walked to the girls. "Polaris, Rahne, don't let the rest of the
team get caught between your little squabbles."
"Don't worry about it, Val. Rahne and I've made up already. Nothing
to worry about." The glimmer in her eye seemed to hold a little more than
expected.
"Yo, Guido. You're the only real man on the job here, so keep 'em in
line."
"Sure thing, Val. I really like being patronized. Just for that, I
might make you come to my gym."
"When you get back, you big lump." She jumped up and kissed his
cheek, like a little girl.
Madrox, the Multiple Man, feeling rather stressed, decided to relieve
himself, the way only he could. "Val? I've already made my dupes for
mission, and I have a couple sitting monitoring the War Room. I'm going to
eat now, okay?"
"Sure, Jamie. Actually, mind if I join you?"
"Not at all." As he turned from her for the slightest second, his
tight grin escaped him a second until it returned as he turned back.
"So, where's the kitchen, Jamie?"
"It's down this hall, last door on the right. By the way, Val. Pick
a number between one and a hundred."
"I've always hated games like that. Okay, a hundred. A hundred what?"
"Oh, you'll see."
As they arrived, he turned the knob, let Val enter the dark room
first. Stepping behind her, he punched the frame of the door with both
hands. As his mutant ability dictated, two Madroxes appeared on either side
of her. Stepping inside, he closed the door, but left the light off.
"By the way, Val, this isn't the kitchen." The two dupes held her
arms tight and her mouth covered. "Oh, and a hundred is the number of dupes
you gotta empty before the night's over." Her eyes were wide, and her body
was tense. As she kicked one of them, another one appeared in front of her.
This one systematically began removing her clothes. First her skirt was
dropped, and then her panties joined it. Next, her suit jacket reached the
pile, and then her blouse was torn from her, just to shock her. Her bra was
first flipped down, and then removed.
"You've always been in charge, haven't ya' babe? Well, guess who's
in charge now."
She was thrown to a bed, her screams now echoing in the enclosed
room. "Jamie!! How dare you! You have no idea what I can do to you, do
you?"
"Maybe not, but I have a great idea as to what you can do for me."
"I mean it, Jamie. I barely lasted that last time when there were
only ten of you."
"You always said, we need to grow. Don't try to excuse yourself from
your own rules, now. I tell you what, I'll let you off with ten this time.
Tomorrow, you get twenty, the day after, thirty, and then forty. That way,
you can still make that hundred mark you set earlier."
"Jamie..."
"Val? Remember, I outnumber you. Let's see, there are four of me,
right now." Two hits to each of the other three allowed six more to join the
fray. "Okay. Now Val, you know how I like to start, so get to work."
Crawling off of the bed, she walked on her knees over the first one.
Looking up at him, she took his partially flacid member between her lips.
Once he was fully at attention, she went onto the next one. After all ten of
them were sufficiently hard, she fell to her hands. The first one she sucked
to firmness mounted her from behind. The next one she helped stepped in
front of her to receive more oral ministrations. The others encircled the
three, gently stroking themselves as she submitted to the sandwich.
Feeling their spasms increasing, she felt no need to draw them out,
so she increased the pressure her tongue was delivering, and pushed back on
the one behind her. Her back arched and her mouth overflowed as they each
came into her.
"Two down, Val. Good job. Now,"
"Try me," another stepped forward. Pulling her to her feet, he
maneuvered her to the bed, lay her down, facing up, and slid into her,
missionary style. His hands moved to her breasts, squeezing gently, and his
motions revealed his awareness to her body.
The others waited in the shadows. The eyes didn't move as he calmly
increased his thrusts and spilled himself into her.
"After such a tender display (I'm so ashamed of me)"
"I get to chart some unexplored territory," another finished again.
Gruffly picking her up, leaving her face in a pillow, and facing her down,
his member found its way between her smooth, firm buttocks. Holding out a
hand, he received a tube of lubricant from another, and he placed a golf ball
sized load on her puckered hole. With his tip, he mashed slowly into the
pile, and then slowly wedged his way in. As his hips met hers, he withdrew
completely, and started over. Suddenly, he pushed his entire length into
her, and found the muffled scream. Rapidly, he thrust into her rear, as her
screams died down to a silent open mouth. As he neared his climax, he
reached forward, grabbed her long blond hair, and pulled her up, making the
angle more difficult on her, making her tighten around his spewing length.
"Oh, man. That was great. I gotta try that." The next one mimicked
him, but pulled her up by grabbing her breasts from behind as he sent his
load into her.
"Okay, Val. That's four of me. Now, we'll make you feel better. Guys?"
Four more stepped forward, each grabbing a limb. Facing her up, they
tied her to the posts, spread-eagled, classically. One of them climbed
between her knees, his face in her groin. Another straddled her stomach, and
the last two stood on the side of the bed. The first one set his lips to
hers, his tongue darting around her genitalia. The one on her chest rested
his member between her breasts. The other two placed their lips on her
nipples, their hands pressing her breasts together. Her moans were
instantaneous, and deep. As she tried to twist and writhe, her frustration
at the ties heightened her pleasure. The penis between her breasts now
started to oscillate. In the throes of her bondage, the waves of her orgasms
passed over her in rapid succession.
At the height of it, she felt herself penetrated below and another
presented himself to her lips. She accepted this out of sheer gratitude, and
as she fellt one spill himself between her legs, she lost track of the member
between her breasts. Opening her eyes, she found another member in waiting
by her mouth, and a hand stroking it. Just as one pulled back, the other
touched on her lips. With the two heads touching each other right in front
of her mouth, they sent simultaneous loads into her mouth.
When the flow stopped, and she came up for air, she felt her bonds
being broken. Moved over in the bed, the original Madrox lay down next to
her. His member resting on her thigh, she rolled over on top of him and
settled down onto it. The other two stepped onto the bed. One came up
behind her, settling himself between his creator's legs, he moved his member
up into the rear of his superior. Val yelped as he reached full depth. As
she opened her mouth for a large breath, the last one's instrument found its
sheath. The indomitable triange was formed, and everyone was being more than
satisfied.
Being the same person, they all found a simultaneous orgasm, filling
her every orifice. Val collapsed onto the groins of Madrox, and they
collapsed onto her. She drifted into a fierce slumber as she was settled
into the bed more comfortably.
The War room was busy with roughly forty Madroxes running around,
doing various tasks, checking monitors, scribbling down odd notes, and
generally keeping the job as difficult as possible.
In the hangar, the two teams, with all thirteen mutants boarded the
Blackbird and found their seats. Guido remained slightly cramped in the tail
of the place. Lorna Dane, known commonly as Polaris, walked back to the
compartment he was strapped into, and checked his harnesses. "Gee, thanks,
Lorna. Did I ever tell you how ravishing you look when you strap me in?"
"Every chance you get, Guido." Her voice was tight, and nonchalant.
"You know, Lorn', I think you should really look into working out
with bigger men. I think you're the second best looking person in the
world."
"And who's supposed to be the best, Guido?" she was still checking
his belt.
"Ce moi." His fingers fanned across his neckline just to imitate a
commercial model.
She giggled slightly. "Oh, really, now. Guido, you should watch who
you flirt with, 'cuz you might not always get what you expect."
"Oh, don't break my heart, Lorna." His lips formed a pout that
melted her icy demeanor.
"Oh, come on, Guido. I'll always love you." She kissed his cheek,
and left a big grin on his face.
In an coffeehouse on the outskirts of London, two faces hovered over
a wooden checkerboard. Plain pieces rested on its surface as a clockhand on
one of two faces moved silently.
"So tell me, Gamesmaster, exactly who are we playing against?"
"The challenge of the game is to measure the opponent, not identify
him. You really must learn quicker to be a key member of the Upstarts, young
Shinobi."
"But the Acolytes are just as worthy opponents as the X-Men. What
use is it not to let us know who the game is with?"
"I have reasons for every move in the game. The opponents constantly
change, but the game still goes on. The opening, even though non-standard,
is still rather predicible in its outcome. The middle game has been played
to the fullest by the X-Men in the past. Now with the Acolytes coming onto
the board, the only thing changing is the perspective. The goal remains the
same, only now we're looking at the board from a slightly different angle."
"Your riddles are tiresome. Why don't you speak plainly?"
"If I did that, I'd be no better than a mutant."
"So what are we up against here, Scott?"
"We're not exactly sure, but with Madrox and Val running the mansion,
and hooking up with a couple contacts here, I'm sure we'll be more than
enough for them."
"Who are our contacts?"
"You'll see them in a couple seconds." Before the hatch even opened,
two more were among the crew on the grounded plane. The smell of brimstone
marked off the presence of Nightcrawler. And the spooky phasing ability of
another through the floor made everyone aware that Kitty Pryde, aka
Shadowcat, was present.
After all of the pleasantries were done, eventually outside due the
cramped quarters of the jet. As they headed off to the cars in waiting,
Polaris heard a soft but definite cry, "Lorna..."
At that moment, she forgot to let Guido out of the harness in the
Blackbird, and guessed that he fell asleep. Telling everyone else just to
leave a car for her, she ran back to the plane. As she entered the
compartment he sat in, she found him in tears as his large fingers were
unable to manipulate the harness. Seeing him like this made her maternal
nature come out and she hugged him as she magnetically undid the lock.
"Oh, Guido. I'm sorry. It's just that Kitty and Kurt showed up and
we all got wrapped up in greeting them."
"Don't worry about it Lorna." He sniffled quietly, his childish
performance unquestioned. "I'm used to being left alone. Lila did it
before. I would've just waited until nightfall to break the damn thing and
go back home, wherever that is." The guilt trip worked flawlessly.
"Oh, come on, Guido. I'll never leave you like that again." She
hoped he understood her. "How can I make it up to you?"
Guido understood perfectly. "Help me out of this cubicle." As he
tried to get up, she pressed against the wall, trying to direct his huge body
out the door. Unable to avoid contact, his chest pressed against her face as
he stood. Unable to look down, she felt a something push at her stomach.
"Guido, back off, you're crushing me."
"Sorry, Lorna." He pulled away, only long enough to shut the door as
she looked down to see his huge penis poking her. For some reason, she
didn't quite expect this from an eight foot tall four hundred pound man.
Perhaps she never thought about it.
"Guido, what are you doing?"
"Trying to be made up to." With that, he lifted her by her uniform,
and let her fall out of it as though a rag doll. Her pants still on, he
pulled them down to fully expose her.
"Oh, God, Guido. I don't think it's going to happen. We both
already know that we shouldn't, but I just don't think it would fit in the
first place."
"I think we should make it fit the first place, since the second
would be even worse, Lorna."
"Guido, I'm serious."
"So am I, Ms. Dane. First, say ahhh..."
"Guido..." was all she could get out before it was at her lips. Even
as she opened her mouth, only about five inches of him could fit into her
straining mouth.
"Oh, Ms. Dane. I don't think your mouth was made for this," was his
response after a few minutes of trying to work her tongue, just before he
took himself out.
"Guido. I really don't think this is going to work."
"Work with me here, Lorna. Open 'em wide."
As she spread her legs, he noted first her absolute baldness below,
and then asked her, "Do you shave, or are you normally like this?"
"It was completely removed, back in the days when the Shadow King was
in control of Legion. He yanked it out hair by hair."
"I was just wondering, what color it was."
"Just like all the blondes you normally see, it was brown."
"Then?" he dawdled a finger through her green locks.
"It was a bet I made with Havok. He bet me he could make me come
thirty times in an hour."
"And if he wouldn've won?"
"His hair would be green."
"Oh," he sat in mild contemplation. "Climb on up, Lorna. There's
only fifteen inches to take. This was the main reason Lila kept me around
for so long. No one else could fill her up like I could."
"I'm trying to, Guido, but look."
Bending down slightly, the height between their groins was matched,
except the shadow of the head of his penis completely covered her open lips.
In wonder, he prodded against it a couple times, drawing a couple yelps from
Lorna.
"Okay, then. Try my finger first." With that, his index finger slid
effortlessly into her.
"Oh, God, Guido. That's thicker than Alex."
"Okay, then try this one." His middle finger, soon replaced his index.
"Christ. That's worse than the Shadow King."
"Good. Now try them both on for size." As they both penetrated her,
she let forth a ghastly scream, and if not for her juices flowing down his
hand, she might have projected and image of pain.
"Good, Lorna. Now, you seem ready." He lifted her onto him, her
weight resting on the head.
She reached down, pulled her thighs up, and tried to pull the lips
apart even further.
"Jesus Fucking Christ. Guido, it's going in. I never thought I could."
"I always knew you could, Lorna. Now, hold onto something. I want
to give you a good sound fucking."
Her hands reached out and got hold of some cables, and her legs moved
from his chest to around his waist. His hands held her buttocks and
supported her lower body. When she settled into place, he started moving
himself further into her. Even as her eyes rolled and fluttered, he kept
going until reaching a barrier two inches short of complete penetration.
"Don't do it, Guido. It that's my cervix you're bumping into."
"I know, Lorna." At that, he began to withdraw himself. When his
head was the only part remaining inside her, he began to thrust his length
back into her. She cursed as he picked up speed. She cursed as he bumped
her cervix again. She cursed as he shoved a finger into her rectum.
Finally, after about twenty minutes, and a good pint of fluid from
her, Guido yelled to her, "I'm gonna cum now, Lorna. I'm gonna be in real
deep, too, so hang on." As his load started to loose into her, she accepted
its warmth. Still more came out, and he began to slide out of her. When he
slipped free, he let her hang from the cables, and aimed his spurting member
at her, each load landing on a different part. Her face was being drenched,
her breasts, completely covered, her thighs, glistening. When he let it
down, a string still hung from it to her, and then to the floor.
"Oh, God, Guido. I never knew you had so much."
"Anytime you want a bath, just let me know, honey." With that, he
replaced himself in his pants. "We better get you cleaned up. Do you
remember where we're supposed to be going?"
"Yeah, an inn just outside of London. They should have left
directions in the car."
"Gee, Lorna. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Here, hand me a towel, would ya'?" She proceeded to wipe herself
down. "Now Guido, you have to be careful. If Alex catches you, you'll be
off the team."
"Oh, don't worry about him. I'm sure, by the time this is over, that
everything should be worked out."
"Well, I just want to say that I warned you." She proceeded to get
dressed, and lead them to the car. She let the rain pour on her outside. On
a backstreet, she even got out and stripped, allowing the rain to wash any
more evidence from her. Guido just watched.
This being a work of progress, and with the ego of almost any Image writer,
the timing of the postings of the various parts will be rather sporadic.
Actually, I never noticed it before,
But "Image-writer", need I say more?
3{:^)}
-Solar
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