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Cuckoo For Cock	By : Ksennin Category: X-men Comics > Het - Male/Female Views: 19800 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men or any characters from the X-Men franchise. I make no money from publishing this work.

Chapter List
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There was one house that did not fit into the rarefied Old World aesthetic of the Xavier Institute, a carefully calculated classicalism that had persisted through rebuilding and redesigns. At one wing of the X-shaped mansion—the one in which Scott Summers’s room was located—there was an exterior door that opened up onto a covered walkway of neat white planks. This led, with modest curving, a little ways into the woods of the Xavier estate’s grounds, into a clearing where the walkway stopped upon the porch of a cottage.
This cottage was not as quaint as the name would suggest. It had been designed in a neomodernist style, resembling nothing so much as a diamond within the cultivated setting of the well-manicured and cleared lawn. Inside the cottage were miniatures of all the mansion offered—an espresso machine, a refrigerator, all the sundry services a house was meant to provide except for laundry. There was still a chute for that, and a man who delivered it cleaned and folded back to the cottage’s occupants.
(The chute did not go back to the mansion and its laundry, but to a locked cache outside where a man would come with a key, load the laundry into a van, and take it to be serviced with the utmost care well away from the mansion’s famous dangers. Some of the idle rich pampered their pets. Emma Frost instead indulged her fashion.)
The cottage—with its frosted glass walls, its privacy, its quiet, and its dignity—was Emma Frost’s. She lived in it with the Stepford Cuckoos; her daughters in a cloned sort of way (despite rumors, Emma had not approved the procedure to avoid stretch marks). Their actual education was an ongoing issue between her and Scott, but in general, the classes that the Cuckoos did not feel an affinity with were not attended, with them instead getting the learning experience of being Emma Frost’s coterie.
They kept her schedule, maintained her hair, buffed her nails, and took her phone calls. Emma saw secretarial work as an underrated, thought soft, method of career advancement. All the best dirt was available to a good secretary. It was the second best way to blackmail someone, besides actually being a stripper herself. Emma couldn’t recommend this, despite it’s being net positive for her. The music now was simply intolerable.
The cottage was two stories—the ‘cottage’ name being a complete misnomer picked by the X-Men because it could usually be counted on to put a line in Emma’s forehead—and the top floor, or attic, was taken up by five beds, among other, more superfluous accoutrements to a girl’s bedroom. As it was dusk, the Stepford Cuckoos were preparing for bed. (Not Scott’s bed, either, as Emma was doing.) They filed up the stairs, sighed as one to find that the staff had once more separated their beds in changing the sheets. They pushed the beds together, changed into their nightgowns, and after each girl’s own beauty ritual had been performed, they fell asleep in a pile that stretched across all the conjoined beds.
As with everyone else, the Cuckoos dreamed, their subconscious processing the events of the day into long-term memory, instincts, phobias, and other necessary ingredients to consciousness. Unlike everyone else, the Cuckoos were quite aware of this process, and as they slept, their hive mind communed with itself, each of the five relaying what little had gone on that day without the other four’s knowledge.
“Ooh, Mindee—“ Esme teased, “who is this strapping young man running around your daydreams?”
Mindee flushed in her sleep. “Just one of the new students. No one important.”
Esme summoned him up. A tall young man in his late teens—Mindee had already mentally stripped him of his shirt. His musculature was broad, his skin the color of old mahogany, his hair in honey-brown dreadlocks that seemed as sharp as the jagged bone spurs his power could manifest.
“My!” Phoebe chuckled. “He is handsome.”
Sophie sniffed out some of Mindee’s trace memories. “And interested.”
“Interested and intriguing,” Esme pronounced. “Quite a combination.”
“That doesn’t mean he deserves the time of day from us,” Mindee said, overcompensating for her prior embarrassment. “It’s not like this school is short on six-pack abs.”
“We should do something for fun, though,” Celeste whined. “This school gets so boring…”
“Yes! A dalliance!” Phoebe cheered. “Ms. Frost has them all the time!”
“We should definitely make sure he’s worthy of our sweet sister, though,” Sophie added.
“Yes. And she should most definitely share.”
“It’s settled then. We’ll have ourselves a test. And if this… ‘Spyke’ passes it, he’ll be Mindee’s new boyfriend.”
***
Spyke looked around his new room. Basically, a college dorm. He’d been given the day off from classes to get moved in, but he didn’t have a lot of stuff, so he’d finished early. Ms. Pryde had given him the tour already, too. He hadn’t really been too impressed with the campus. No robots, no Star Trek shit—most of the students didn’t have costumes and their powers weren’t even as good as any of the Avengers.
It was pretty much just a school for mutants and that was okay, but man, he wanted to get into that X-Men business. Flying the Blackbird. Blowing up Sentinels. Yeah, yeah, he had to go through the system to get his own bitch-ass costume and codename, but you’d think they could put him in an intern program or something. Jubilee had been what, thirteen when she joined?
But fine. There were some things here to interest him. Learning from the X-Men—even about plants and Shakespeare and shit, they were way into the whole warrior-poet thing—had to be a little cool. And Gawd, were there some females here. He thought he’d had double vision, seeing the Stepford Cuckoos, but no—they actually had that same banging body in triplicate plus two. And here he thought white girls just all looked alike.
Mindee was his favorite, though. She’d given him a look and suddenly it was like she’d come into focus. Her fashion sense, the way she wore her hair—it was just more vivid than the other four. Like it was trying to appeal just to him. He’d chased her down the quad and she’d lingered at a rosebush, breaking ranks with her sisters so he could introduce himself. He’d laid a few lines on her, flexed a little, kept his cool. She’d seemed chill as well. Played her cool as she left off, hips wiggling, not even looking back. He could respect that.
Some of the other students had given him a little housewarming. Gifted him with some essentials that weren’t already included in the room. Big pack of bottled water, a hot plate, paper plates, Dixie cups. Nothing major, but nothing useless either. He’d let them feel him out, gotten a headstart on learning their names, but they’d left as uneventfully as they’d come. Not even leaving as big an impression as Mindee. God, that girl knew her way round a skirt…
A knock at the door. No, at his window. Rain was pelting it and for a moment Spyke thought the storm was driving a branch against the glass, but then he saw the little white fist banging between the window panes. He leapt up from his bed, forcing open the sash of the window in time for Mindee to climb into his room.
She was soaked to the bone, her hair running in ragged, darkened whips across her face, white blouse as insubstantial as gossamer now, plastered to her slim body and black bra. Her pleated skirt was dragged down by its wetness, revealing the lowers of her tucked-in blouse, the unbuttoned front portion that looked into her black panties. She pulled it up helplessly, then looked down at her shoes—white socks waterlogged into her black Mary Janes.
“I’m so sorry!” Mindee moaned. “I was coming to visit you and then it started raining—I got all wet—now I’m trailing mud all over your floor—“
“It’s cool,” Spyke assured her, automatically bending down to remove her shoes. She submissively stepped out of them, allowing him to take them off and set them upside-down on the windowsill. He closed the window to shut out the sounds of thunder and lightning.
(He had no way of knowing the storm was a result of the Frost clan calling in a favor from Ororo Munroe.)
Mindee peeled off her wet socks as well, her little stooping, balancing dance drawing her saturated skirt up her thighs before letting it fall further downward. “Oh, this is ridiculous,” she said, collecting her socks into one hand. “Do you mind if I…?” She pulled at the tongue of her belt.
Spyke forced calm on himself. “It’s fine with me.”
“Oh, thank you so much for understanding.” Mindee slipped out of her skirt, letting her now untethered blouse fall mostly over her panties. She took both socks and skirt to the room’s radiator, laying them across the narrow slits through which it hissed hot air.
Spyke sidled up next to her, changing the setting on the radiator. The apartment where he’d grown up had had the exact same kind. You had to jigger it a little to get a really nice, oven-y blast of warm. Mindee cooed as she felt the air really flow, undoing the first button on her blouse and peeling back the flaps to let it burn into her chest.
Spyke stepped away from her, openly considering her body. He kept close to her. Maybe getting caught out in the rain was an accident, but coming to see him by sneaking through his window after hours hadn’t been. She had stopped shivering; now, in the glow of the heater, she breathed and her breasts strained at a slightly undersized bra. The Kate Upton trick to make her breasts look even bigger than they were. Even though he was aware of it, it worked on him. He thought those softly curving mounds were the best he had ever seen. She looked up at him boldly, with smiling approval of his gaze.
“Still wet?” he asked her.
“Getting hot,” she replied.
The words were hardly past her lips when he was upon her, strong arms around her body, his flesh pressing to hers. She felt her breasts crushed against his pecs, her sex moistening around the hard column that was suddenly grinding against it. His lips met hers. She slid her tongue into his mouth, thrusting her hips forward to further grind herself against the growing bulge he had for her.
“Baby,” he groaned. “Come here to help me break in the bed?”
“If you’re offering. The floor could be fine too…”
“Nah. You’ll need all the padding you can get. Just dress for the occasion, ya hear?”
He dropped his pants, slipped his shirt off, stretched out on the bed with his hands behind his bed and his cock already ramrod straight, pointing up from his muscular body. Mindee gaped at it. Spyke may’ve been as much a boy as she was a girl, but protruding from his groin was the cock of a man. Beautiful, smooth, long, hard, the mushroom head already seeping precum, perfectly topping the specimen of manhood. Mindee clenched her thighs together, seeing it, the thought of it inside her thrilling and slightly fearsome. She might not walk straight afterwards, but she would walk straight back to him, assuming he knew how to use that thing half as well as he had his hands and his mouth.
“C’mon, girl, it’s not a party if you don’t hit the dress code. And at the moment, you are way overdressed.”
Mindee smiled at his insouciance. Despite her bloodline’s chiding insistence on protocol, she far preferred his forthrightness to the fawning others might impose on her. Unlike some of her siblings, she didn’t enjoy toying with people. But she would quite like teasing this one, so long as he kept fighting back…
“What would be the offending article?” she asked, unbuttoning her blouse so it hung open over her tautly flat stomach. “This?” She pulled her blouse open to indicate it, the parting revealing the cameltoe of her tight and askew panties. “This?” She pulled her panties down a ways, indicatingly, but showing little more than the first helping of pubic hair that composed her gold muff. “Maybe this?” She undid her bra from behind, letting it slip down the swelling curvature of her cleavage, but not totally expose her while still held up by the shoulder straps.
He shook his head. “Come here. I’ll show you.”
She wandered closer to him, each step peeling her panties down her legs, slipping her blouse off her shoulders, pulling her bra off her breasts. At the foot of the bed she bent down, crawling on all fours onto the mattress and toward him, but Spyke reached out suddenly, catching her by the head, stopping her. She looked down. His cock was pointed right at her mouth.
“Now it’s a party,” Spyke said, pushing her downward.
Macho BS, Mindee thought stingingly, but already her mouth was open, the thought of pleasing him foremost in her mind.
Once it was inside her mouth, she immediately sensed it responding to her loving attention. She ran her parted lips up his shaft, feeling his prick stretching as if trying to follow her—the balls beneath surging with cum, readying to fill her mouth or cunt. She gently slid her mouth off his extended cock, kissing the head with tiny little dips of her mouth.
He groaned approvingly, his hands rough in her hair, lovingly frisking it between his thumbs and forefingers, giving her leeway to move around his cock. She pressed her open lips against his knob in a longer kiss, letting her hot breath push at the collar of his cock, then she sucked him back inside her mouth. His shaft followed, slowly, inch by inch between her spread lips. His fat cock no match for her practiced throat.
“Yeah, girl,” he groaned heartily. “Show me how good you are at that.”
His cockhead bobbed in her mouth, Mindee trying to hold it in place with her lips as her tongue lavished its length with sweet, gentle strokes. She rolled his testicles in the palms of her hands, feeling a hardened clench to them as they prepared and prepared and prepared to invade her. Mindee’s tongue again swooped and circled around his cockhead. Spyke clenched his teeth, feeling like flames were burning up his cock.
Now Mindee bobbed her head up and down, every downward motion drawing more of his thick shaft into her mouth. On the upward stroke, her lips would hold fast to his meat, only reluctantly letting his inches slide wetly from out of her mouth. His hands tangled in her hair, his words a muffled rant that made her blush far more than the interaction of his phallus and her mouth were.
“Yeah, yeah, you take it, yeah, you like that, plenty for ya, c’mon, yeah, go down nice and hard, get it all in there, show me how much you like it, give that dick all your love…”
Spyke’s body hitched, cock slipping deeper into her mouth as she drew harder on it, letting it press into her throat as she tried desperately to accept it. Spyke froze, hips jammed up against her, as her tongue expertly played at his manhood, folding and curling around his shaft, teeth nibbling at his crown. Bolts of pleasure tore down into his loins as Spyke felt the many sensations she was producing mingle inside him.
Again her lips slipped and slid over his shaft, now provoking Spyke’s hips to rise and fall to meet them, fucking her mouth with long, smooth strokes.
“Eat it, eat that cock, eat it up, mmmmmm, hmmmmm, ahhhhhh…”
His hips were now jumping from the bed, Mindee’s throat fully open to the plunge of his cock as it flew down to her gullet. Spyke’s hands tightened on her head as he fucked her mouth deeply, driven wild by the blistering heat deep within her throat, urging him on.
“Suck it, suck it, suck it, suckitsuckitsuckit—“
Mindee felt his cock pound and swell even more than before, pushing at both the roof and bottom of her mouth as it expanded. Fresh precum was freed from his cockhead; her tongue was pulled to it. She was helpless not to roll it around her mouth, tasting all of its sweet bitterness before she gulped it down, warm and thick, her belly crying for more.
“Okay, girl, you’ve done alright with cock.” Spyke snapped his head at the understatement, but if she didn’t know by now just how good she was at sucking cock, it’d probably be offensive to tell her. “Now let’s see how you handle a little spunk.”
His cock seemed to balloon as he thrust her down upon it, a thick slab of meat deep in her throat, and suddenly it was twice as long—a torrent of hot cum punching out from it, straight into her belly. So thick and powerful, it seemed an extension of his prick. She swallowed desperately, drinking his cum straight from his throbbing cock. It was tasty; she didn’t want to lose a single drop. But in the end, his load was just too vast for her. His cum jammed in her mouth and flowed back down his cock, spilled down her chin. Mindee found herself touching it, marveling at the unusual consistency—wet and sticky and warm and thick. She’d never touched anything like it.
His cock continued to leap and dance in her mouth as she tried to scoop up his cum before it could fall upon his nice, clean bed. She drank greedily until he was finished, then sucked just as she’d swallowed, milking his sensitive, post-orgasmic prick dry. Then she released him, his cock not limp, but flagging. She licked her hands, smearing the cum on them more than removing it—licked her lips—licked his shaft clean, sucking at his cockhead and the collar around it to get at every trace of cum. There was plenty of it, and it seemed to taste better with every gulp.
“Like how I handled your cock?” she asked, giggling as she sucked her fingers clean of jizz.
“Like I said, it was aight. But you could use a little practice with cum.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Imagine I had pants on when you were blowing me. You could’ve gotten cum all over ‘em. And I wear some top-of-the-line stuff. I can’t have any protein staining it.”
“Guess I could use some practice, huh?”
“Yeah. Give me a sec. I’ll have the field ready for you to do a few laps.”
Mindee looked down, expecting to tease him over just how many ‘secs’ it would take for him to recover from what she had to say had been a truly world-class blowjob, only to find that his cock was indeed rallying, regaining its former stiffness as if he’d just left a monastery. A thought bubbled from his mind to hers. Mutant healing factor.
“Oh, that is the best!” Unable to help herself, she leaned in and kissed him lightly, lovingly, on his cockhead. She could still sample the lingering taste of cum. “But I really need to take a shower.”
“Why? You’re just going to get dirty again. Trust me.”
“I’m sure I will. But I didn’t say I would be cleaning up. You’ll be joining me. After all, I’m your guest. It’d be rude to neglect me.”
“Shit, this Ms. Manners stuff might not be half-bad.”
“If you wanna date a Cuckoo, you have to be a gentleman.”
“Thought you enjoyed that because it wasn’t gentle.”
She pawed at his cock. “Down, boy. Maybe you don’t need a minute, but I do.” Mindee got up, finally stripping off her disheveled clothes. Spyke bit his lower lip, watching the brisk striptease—it brought him to full hardness, the way she just casually stripped down after being such a ho. “Count to a hundred. Then come in after me. The water should be nice and hot by then.”
“Water’s not what I’m worried about.”
“It shouldn’t be.” Just as she’d done in the quad, Mindee wagged her ass as she disappeared into his bathroom, foot sliding the door shut behind her. She knew the entire Brotherhood of Mutants wouldn’t be able to stop him from coming in after her once he’d counted a hundred.

Which meant Phase 2 of testing his suitability as a boyfriend was now in effect. And it’d be even more fun than drowning in cum.
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Cuckoo For Cock