Luncheon With Logan | By : deegdavis Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Het - Male/Female Views: 2789 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the X-Men movies, or any of the characters from them. I make no money from from the writing of this story. |
8-12-06
LUNCHEON WITH LOGAN
- or-
Whoever said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach?
“Hey, you know I love you,” I wrap my arms around his middle,”little
flaws and all.”
He flexes those massive biceps, puffs up his pecs, “Flaws?” His
affront is fake, “Got your arms around hundred and ten percent perfection,
woman.”
My grasp slips lower. Groping posterior perfection, I nibble
his lower lip, “Mmm-hmm,” and grind my hips into his.
“Don’t do that unless you mean business,” he growls, his
arms encircling me, one hand pressing into the small of my back.
Tracing his lips with my tongue, “Later lover,” I tease
thinking more about returning pages, charting I’ve let go far too long, a
myriad of tedious tasks.
“Nah ah, darlin’,” he says and forces my lips with his
demanding tongue.
“What do you think
your doing?” I purr as his lips sear a path over my neck.
His breath tickles my
ear. “Seein’ what I can get away with.” His hand encircles my breast.
Whoa cowboy! I wasn’t planning on this. I push back, “Logan! Are you crazy?”
“Mmm hmm,” he says pulling me close. “Crazy ‘bout you,” he murmurs and nibbles my
earlobe.
“I’ll say. Quit it.” Some how that doesn’t
come out as convincing as I’d like. By the way his hands wander up and
down my back and how he punishes me with that luscious mouth of his, he’s not
convinced either.
Oh Lord! What am I going to do? “I’ve—got afternoon clinic.”
“In an hour,” he counters, tasting my neck.
My mind’s telling me this is a foolish idea. I’m a responsible adult. Adults don’t behave
this way. B S they don’t Sassy-Girl. Admit it; he’s pushing your buttons and
you like it.
Quickies are so much more trouble than they’re worth. He
gets off and I end up with wet panties and a whole lotta frustration.
Oh, damn the wet panties! The tingling thighs, the ache in
your breasts feels so good. You want it.
You want him.
I’ve got so much to do and I’m so far behind. Pish! Once I get stuff done there’s always more.
We might get caught. Yes, that would be embarrassing. Oh
come on! It’s no secret around here we’re a couple.
“Aahh, oohh,” I gasp
feeling his hot mouth on my breast. He just pressed my no return button. “You
know, this is breaking a hard… ” my fingers explore the huge bulge in his
jeans, “…and fast rule of mine.”
He groans, “What’s that darlin?” before devouring my mouth.
Breathless I reply, “I forgot.”
”Lock the door,” he murmurs between showering kisses over my
breasts.
Parting for a second, I flip the lock. Leaning against the
door I rake him over. So damn arrogant, powerful, virile; an irresistible sex
deity. Screw my rules! I dive into his
arms.
Our mouths lock in combustible passion. Roving hands under
my skirt ignite a fire between my legs.
Tugging loose his shirt, I raise goose bumps raking my hands
up his back and chest. Grabbing taut glutei,
I pull him tight to me.
With a lusty growl, he grabs me ‘round the hips and lifts me
off the floor. I wrap my legs around his
waist, my arms around his neck. Feeling him press against my crotch, I’m
getting damp. He carries me to the closest examining room. “My turn to play
doctor,” he says with a suggestive wiggle of his brows. I can’t suppress a laugh.
Caught in the surge of reckless passion, we tear at each
other. Quick work he makes of my blouse and bra. I moan far too loudly when his
tongue laves my hard, aching nipples.
Wrestling with his belt, “Damn, stupid redneck buckle,” I
curse under my breath. Slowly, carefully I ease his zipper down and slip his jeans
below his hips. Oh my god! He is exquisite.
It thrills me to stroke his throbbing man muscle. If this relationship
fizzles, I ruined for life. No man will ever measure up.
Skilled hands travel sensuously over my flesh, teasing my
secret places. His touch, smooth as satin, fans the flame of desire and I flush
in anticipation. Unexpectedly he pauses. Warm fingers slide between fabric and
flesh and I hear the ‘shish’ of a claw unsheathing.
“Don’t you dare cut my underwear,” I warn between lip locks.
He growls, ravishes my mouth and adroitly slips them down my
legs. Blue satin and lace puddle on the
floor, easily forgotten as sensuous fingers dip into
my juices and begin to polish my pearl.
Indescribable warmth radiates through my core as his caress
heightens an over powering yearning to merge. “Want you,” I moan and coax him
to me. God, for more time! I ache to feel
his tongue on my jewel.
Reaching, I take hold and stroke
him. Wanting more, I anoint myself with his precious fluid. So smooth, hard and
hot, I must have him. Angling my hips, I
gasp, “Please!”
‘‘Not yet.” He kisses my knee; then the other. Kneeling, his
lips journey leisurely the length of my thighs. Taking it between his lips and
tongue, first ever so lightly, my bud blossoms like a flower.
Falling back onto the table, warmth becomes heat. My legs
tremble. My pelvis rockets off the table jettisoning any remaining inhibitions
into the cosmos. My body beseeches to welcome him inside. “Logan! Now. Oh please, fuck me.”
He knows better and continues to feast like a hungry animal.
Suddenly, awareness turns inward. Time seems to expand and
contract concurrently. I’m on the edge. I’m falling. I’m overcome by wave upon
wave of rapture. Groaning loudly, startling myself, my legs close around his
head. He doesn’t stop and I come again
and again. Just when I think I can’t take any more, he growls lustfully and
pulls back.
I look into his eyes, blazing with raw desire. His lips
curve into an anticipating leer. His chin’s coated with my nectar. He’s so
ready. His rod throbs and weeps with need.
Grabbing my buttocks, holding me captive, he pushes in
slowly, as far as he can go.
Holding there, I feel every solid bit of him. Tantalizingly,
he retreats and advances —over and over; again filling my senses to
overflowing.
Wrapping my legs around his waist
and bracing my arms against the table, I feel my innards close around him like
a vice. I’m beyond intelligible verbalization.
Grasping me about the shoulders
for balance, his head whips back and I see his muscles grow taut. He groans,
“Squeeze it woman.”
I do and watch him; mesmerized by
his expression, those incredible sounds he makes when he lets go. He closes his
eyes, arches his back and rams into me; fast, hard, deep.
It’s wild. I’m wet. He’s hot. I
feel every single thrust and spasm. He buries his face into my neck but I
search his mouth to kiss him and taste myself. My God! Can I get any more
turned on?
Oh yes; and again, I’m coming. “Oh god, yes! Logan!”
Clutching him desperately, I ride the crest of feral carnality. The urge to give is as strong as the urge to
get.
He comes with a roar of satisfaction, allaying any fear I
have that he isn’t getting and
believe me he’s giving; so much I
think it’ll explode out the top of my head.
Too soon, it’s done but every fiber of me wants to savor
this fleeting, beautiful moment. Joined as one in flesh and spirit, it’s the
ultimate expression of love.
Unwillingly, I return to myself, becoming aware of our
thundering heart beats and ragged breath. I hear him breathe, “I love you,”
into my ear.
My fingertips feather, glossy, perspiration dampened hair
falling over his brow, “I love you too.”
He gently caresses my cheek, traces my shoulder and collar bone
and pulls away. I grip him tighter with
my legs. “No. Not yet,” I whisper.
Taking me into burly arms, he holds me there until he’s
relaxed. My body reluctantly releases him. He brushes his lips against mine and
I want to weep with joy and contentment.
In a gesture both tender and practical, he reaches for a wad
of tissues and wipes away the obvious residue.
“Don’t want ya havin’ the drips all afternoon,” he teases and fastens
his jeans.
Smoothing down my skirt, I can’t help but blush and
giggle. In no time were composed like
nothing’s happened.
“Hey you,” I say as he heads for the door “Better wipe that
grin off your face.
Somebody’s liable to think you’re a friendly, likable kind
o’guy.”
He knits his brow and snorts, “Damn! Can’t have that, can
we?”
His scowl lasts all of five seconds. With a playful sparkle
in his eyes he displays my under panties.
“Tsk! Gimme
those,” I giggle.
“Come and get ‘em,” he teases and hold them high, out of my
reach.
I tickle his ribs, “Brat!”
Terminally ticklish, he dodges, “Ok, ok. I’ll let ya win
this one, darlin’,” he laughs and hands them over.
“Hah!” I exclaim and shove him out the door with a swat on
his backside and you’ll never guess who was coming down the corridor.
“Logan.
What the hell have you been up to?” demands Mr. Micro Manager himself, also
known as Scott Summers.
With absolute calm, point-blank clarity my man replies, “Havin’ sex with my woman.”
Scott, accustomed to Logan’s
rude, chain jerking comebacks, pay no heed. “Right. Don’t forget grades are due
in this afternoon. Three thirty, Logan.”
Then, I have absolutely no idea what got into me and I
probably lost points with Scott but I didn’t care--much. Grinning ear to ear, I
dangle my panties.
His jaw hit the floor and his brows got lost in his
forehead. I miss most of his mumblings
as he turns tail and runs in the opposite direction. I do hear something about…
this is a school… not a whorehouse…proper time and place.
For a split second I feared Logan might blow a gasket over the whorehouse
comment.
Instead, he slams the door and practically falls back into
my office, “Suzie, that was freakin’
priceless!” he laughs.
“It was,” I boast. “Poor Scott, we’ve insulted his
sensibilities.” My sympathy’s false. “I don’t know what got into me,” I grin
wickedly. “Guess the devil made me do it.”
We laugh in until tears run down our cheeks and our belly’s
ache.
*Fin*
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