Adult-FanFiction.org : Marvel 'Verse

The Invisible Handjob	By : Ksennin Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Spiderman Views: 52206 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I own neither Ultimate Spider-Man nor any of the franchise's characters. I make no money from publishing this.

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Silver Sable awoke from her long slumber. She’d been up all night, from 6 PM to the crack of dawn, hunting Spider-Man for the CEO of Roxxon. The bungled capture of the Thompson boy pointed strongly to the real Spider-Man being a high school student, which meant he’d be inactive during school hours, then a possibility for appearances from evening until 3 AM, when he could sleep enough to be ready for school the next morning. Of course, that was weekdays. On a Saturday, he might be in costume at any time.

Still, Sable had assumed he would want to sleep in, and after last night’s no-show, had herself slept through morning and noon so she’d be ready to tango with him in the dark. In another hour, her team would be prepped and ready; she always woke up first. For now, she checked her e-mail.

Nothing new, except for some posts on the Shadownet suggesting that Genosha had gone from snuff films to pornography. Usually a step up in the world, but not when the participants were captured mutants. Still, as an international mercenary not rich enough to afford scruples, she might need to work with them someday. She would need to know what they were capable of. Sable clicked the link.

***

Felicia Hardy divested herself of her catsuit an inch from the shower. A second later she was under its spray. Even with the absurd amount of cleavage she exposed, nothing made her sweat like full-body leather. Well, almost nothing. Spider-Man had gotten a good rise out of her, before he turned out to be less Spider-Man and more—Spider-Baby.

Still, it’d been a long time since she’d had a good fuck. She’d picked up enough men in college to know that in most one-night stands, she might as well be role-playing their sock for all the care they put into pleasuring her. And pursuing a vendetta against the Kingpin did not leave much time for a social life. Maybe she should’ve been put more thought into robbing the cradle. The Spider did look cute—what little she’d seen of him before she’d… vomited. On his groin.

Enough thinking. This always came of taking showers. Turning off the cold water, Felicia stepped out to similarly stop the steaming-hot bath she’d drawn before it overflowed. She added some perfume for that touch of perfection. The chemicals gave the water the distinctive look of a bubble bath, but when she got out, she’d smell of honeysuckle.

The warm water did its work, soothing her aching muscles and removing what grime her brief shower hadn’t. It even made her feel a little frisky. She wondered when Spider-Kid would hit his eighteenth. He wouldn’t hold a little bile against her, would he? He was a guy, and she was a D-cup.

Reaching for her laptop, Felicia balanced it on the windowsill beside the tub. Had to be some decent porn somewhere—she followed enough tumblrs. But scrolling around, she found nothing but guys with their penises hanging out, like that was the least bit attractive. God, why didn’t anyone write good, smutty Buffy fanfic anymore? She’d settle for Angel.

After a few page-downs, she got something. A sponsored post, annoying enough, but this one was bought and paid for by the Genoshan government. And the gif looked a lot like Wolverine and that firecrotch from the X-Men, not being particularly platonic. And it was tagged NSFW.

She clicked the link.

***

Elektra steeled herself for battle. She’d already exercised, went through a dozen katas, and meditated for two hours. The Kingpin had grown tired of the possibility that Spider-Man would interfere once more with his operations. When night came, she would hunt him down and eliminate him.

But not yet. Not outside the cover of darkness. She was as prepared as she could be. Now she simply had to wait.

A laptop wasn’t as satisfying as having a sparring partner, but it would do. She checked her Twitter: a false name she used only to receive coded messages and keep tabs on Matt. There was nothing unusual. Just a trending hashtag about #XXXmen.

She clicked the link.

***

Jean shoved Peter down onto the room’s only furniture, a chrome examination table, though Logan’s body resisted enough for him to end up seated rather than prone. Jean turned her efforts into a dance—moving her hands up and down her body, swaying her hips to the pulse of the psychosphere. As discombobulated as he was, Peter watched—his expression turning Logan’s eyes big and round.

Would you mind telling me why I’m not serving detention in Queens? he asked mentally, even as he tried not to goggle at her.

A lot of people wouldn’t question that. Jean’s slender legs turned serpentine as she turned to show off her ass, bunching it and relaxing it inside her skintight leather trousers.

Peter couldn’t help but watch, despite the myriad questions screaming for answers. Jean didn’t dance like the girls at school, loose and fun-loving. She had a natural sense of rhythm that was effectively sensuous, making her motions more like fucking than dancing. Her hips swayed, her shoulders twisted, her tits jutted out from her offered chest, all calling to him.

I am not going to be distracted by boobies for more than another five minutes, Peter swore.

Alright, here’s the deal. Jean took hold of her top’s zipper, hidden behind the X of her chestpiece, and drew it down her slender torso. She opened it right down to the waist, leaving it obvious that she was naked underneath. The creamy valley between her breasts was on full display and her tits were ready to follow them into open air. A light shrug would be all it took to shift a nipple out from under the hanging halves of her top.

We’re on Krakoa, a prison island for mutants. The dictatorship of Genosha imprisons its mutants here, where they’re hunted, killed, for sport. They broadcast it on the internet. Last month, we tried to stop them. We destroyed the studio and freed their current reality TV star. But they rebuilt it and sent a strike force onto American soil to capture us and bring us here for their sick version of justice.

Peter knew most of that already, but he didn’t interrupt. He was waiting for that light shrug. Okay. Got it. Why the H-E-double-hockey-sticks am I here, though?

Jean undid her yellow belt and slipped off her trousers. Her hips writhed inside the pair of white panties that were now their only covering. They were very tight white panties. When she twirled around to show off her ass, Peter could see the lower halves of her asscheeks, the tanned flesh in artistic contrast to the pale satin of her undergarments. Both clad and unclad flesh swelled into a curve of mouth-watering shapeliness.

God, I love watching that cock get hard inside your pants, knowing how much you want it inside me—

EXCUSE ME?

Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to send that. It’s the inhibitor collar messing me up. If I could only take it off, we’d already have finished this conversation. Of course, if it were off, I could burn every son of a bitch in this compound into very remorseful ashes.

Disconcertingly, Jean stared at his bulging cock as she ‘spoke.’ She licked her fingers, each hand in turn with long strokes of her tongue, then rubbed at her breasts, her nipples, making them hard before she pulled at them painfully hard. A moan ran from her full, wet lips.

I was going to do this with Wolverine—

Yeah, I saw that part.

You were watching this? Pervert.

A guy I know had it on. And you’re the one going Showgirls on an underage kid.

Under—how old are you?

Seventeen.

Eh, close enough.

Post-human ethics?

Horny ethics. What, you want to go back to your body before the fun begins?

If that means before Wolverine uses my body to roll around in trash or whatever he does, yes, please.

Okay, that’s a problem. Hold on.

Another moan slowly being born from Jean’s straining throat, she ran her hands steadily down her belly, her panting increasing the further she lowered them. She moved them to the crotch of her panties, her hips revolving slowly as her palms covered the slight bulge of her womanhood, whispering sighs wracking her body as she enjoyed herself.

If you know Logan, you know how he can get. He was acting like a complete jackass, so I just lashed out and… sent him somewhere. I don’t know how I did it; there’s this Phoenix thing. It’s complicated. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I suppose I switched your consciousness and I don’t exactly know how to undo it.

“What?” Peter shrilly cried, the sound covered by the snikt of his claws breaking through skin. “AWWWW! Geez!” he swore as the adamantium retracted.

Yeah, don’t do that.

Good advice! Thanks!

Look, once we get out of here, I’ll put you back in your body. And Logan’s a good guy. He won’t get you in too much trouble. Besides, I think it’s safe to say I’m making it worth your while.

Right through the jeans and untucked shirt that might as well have been Wolverine’s uniform, Jean could see Peter’s—Logan’s—throbbing cock. She could make out the straining hardness of the dickhead and the length of the shaft. She took her hands away from her groin, revealing the moisture that had molded her panties to the lips of her labia.

Do you want to touch me? Jean sent, widening the set of her legs and jutting her crotch toward Peter in open invitation. Because playing along with these sick fucks is our only chance of escape, so I really need you to touch me. I will do whatever you need, just touch me. Fuck me.

Cripes-on-a-stick, you’re lucky I don’t have a girlfriend. This crap would give me a complex.

Yes, I’m the lucky one. She could see his right hand starting for his cock unconsciously. Grabbing it, she instead brought it to her sex. Under her panties. They both gasped. Jean knew what he needed, because she was feeling what he felt: Need. Desperate, insatiable need.

Peter stood suddenly, a look in his eyes that reminded her of Logan, and he pulled her top open as far as it would go. Her breasts spilled out like a dam had burst. He didn’t waste time staring at them. He shoved his face into their warmth, kissing and licking the sweaty flesh, feeling its creamy contours, its heat as her cleavage closed about his face.

His cock was so hard in his too-tight pants that it seemed doubled over. Jean pulled at his fly, trying to get it loose, but he couldn’t pay attention to that, not when he had one of her nipples in his mouth and was eagerly winding his tongue around it in wet swirls.

“Oh God! Foreplay!” Jean moaned throatily. Please. Keep going. Haven’t had it since Scott…

Peter tried to get as much of her tit into his mouth as he could, like he was hungry for it. Her nipple swelled in his mouth, making it easier to suck. He kept pulling to her, backing her against the wall and finding her long legs wrapped around his waist. He held her up as he tasted her other nipple. Over his head, Jean’s eyes smoldered without focus.

She fumbled at his jeans another long second, fingers shaking until she pulled the fly as wide as she could. No underwear. Typical Logan. But at least it meant his cock burst right out, as hard as could be, the head gleamingly wet with precum. It was Logan—his gruff voice, his rugged body, his hard cock—but a Logan that didn’t make her feel like she’d set feminism back fifty years by sleeping with him.

Dreams did come true.

Jean closed her fist around Logan’s cock, squeezing to find it was just as hard as it looked. She wondered if they had put adamantium there too. Just lie back and think of England. I’ll take care of everything.

I may know a thing or two myself.

Oh yeah, public school? Show me.

And, enthusiastically, he did.

***

Mary Jane excused herself quickly from the classroom. Peter was making some weird sounds behind her and she had no desire to be there when Kong got a hard-on. Technically, Mr. Gruber was supposed to approve bathroom trips and only for five minutes, but really, he just hung out the two hall passes and let them take ‘em when they needed to. Wandering the halls was obviously right out, for fear another teacher would catch them and the sweet gig of unmonitored detention was discovered. Plus, you should bring the pass back just in case another student really did want to do to the bathroom.

But MJ had it on good authority from Gwen that quite a few students had taken jay breaks, even had quickies, all thanks to Gruber’s hall-pass system. She wasn’t planning on anything as naughty as that. She just needed to go to the bathroom.

Thank God it was empty.

Once she was safe in the handicapped stall, she dug out her iPhone and went to the URL Flash had used. In moments, she was seeing the same feed they were watching back in detention. Thankfully there wasn’t a paygate. Once it was streaming, she propped her smartphone up on the toilet paper dispenser, then used both hands to remove her jeans and panties, dropping them to the linoleum floor. Thank God she didn’t have to do this in the boys’ bathroom—she wouldn’t pick something off that floor if it was the Holy Grail.

No more thinking. She leaned back on the toilet, thanking Christ that it was actually a full seat, not just that weird donut thing, and set about releasing the tension that had built up for the past hour. No, all day. No, in the weeks since she’d broken up with Peter. She’d had no idea how much she would miss those make-out sessions with him.

Dipping her hand under her shirt, which she let hang down over her thighs in a pretense of modesty, she touched the wetness that’s started gathering with Wolverine and Marvel Girl’s first kiss. God, that’d been a good kiss. Just like Peter had used to do it.

As she circled her clit in long spirals, an exhale purged her chest from the very bottom of her lungs all up. She’d really needed this. Enough to masturbate in school even, which she’d promised never to do after that time Gwen had almost walked in on her in the girls’ locker room. Maybe it was gross, she didn’t know. All she knew was that Jean Grey’s fist was wrapped tight around Wolverine’s cock and pressing down hard, drawing a moan of rapture even from the toughest-looking guy she’d ever seen.

“Good God, it’s hard,” Jean gasped on the screen, almost in surprise. Maybe Wolverine usually needed mood music and stuff to get it up. Maybe he was so hard because he was turned on being watched. Jean knew she was turned on watching them. God, she was such a weirdo. No wonder she’d dated a guy who was part-spider for most of the year.

Wolverine was sitting on the metal table like a little kid, his cock incongruously sprouting from his undone trousers. As Mary Jane entered herself with two fingers, Wolverine spread his knees wide and nearly edged off the table. Now Jean could get right between his legs to tug on him, see him drip, which MJ could barely make out.

Mary Jane could sympathize with Marvel Girl. Redhaired, a little aloof, but sweet six days a week. She could picture herself acting the same way if she had to make a porno—dancing, teasing, making a game of it. Showing that she was her own woman, and the audience was just renting her body for a while, not owning it.

So she was shocked at how hungry Jean seemed now that Wolverine was acting so submissive to her. Jean’s tongue was flicking at it like someone licking their lips before a hot meal, staring at the cock just a few inches from her face. Its cockhead bulged hugely in her grip. She was no prude, like Mary Jane had been accused of. Not with Wolverine.

Mary Jane had watched with almost clinical interest when they’d started in detention, stripping each other of both clothes and inhibitions. She’d been astonished by Jean’s beautiful nakedness. And Wolverine seemed equally impressed, telling her how beautiful he was in soft words that purred with his gruff voice. Yet he sounded like he meant every word. That, more than anything, had gotten to her.

It reminded her of Peter. Whatever skill he lacked in their love life, he’d had a way about him. He’d always made her feel special. And MJ didn’t know what was making her so turned on, memories of Peter or just the sex show before her, but now that she was alone, she didn’t try to figure it out. She just picked up her pace.

So did Jean. “Hell… Wolverine… you are hard. Goddamn hard…”

Wolverine gasped, perspiration clouding his forehead. “Be careful, huh?”

“Why?” Jean insisted, her fist pumping a little faster. It was still going slow, all things considered, but more than fast enough for her purposes. If Mary Jane were doing Peter that hard, he’d have come already.

“I don’t want to—“ Wolverine groaned. “I’m gonna!”

Her fingers seemingly white-knuckled, Jean shoved her fist down to the base of Wolverine’s cock. He grunted in dismay as a thick swath of cum emerged like a breaking wave, most of it dropping between them but some splashing on Jean’s chin. She went fast, her fist racing up and down Wolverine like she wanted him going off. Softly cried out with the power of her influence over him as he splatted his own pantlegs.

“You came a lot,” Jean said, somewhat unnecessarily. She grinned with pride, not surprise, at how much cum had erupted from Wolverine’s hairy balls.

Mary Jane could only imagine how that cock was throbbing inside her tight fist. But Jean wasn’t satisfied. She clung tight to his cock and Mary Jane thought maybe she wanted to kiss it, but she didn’t. Just licked her lips, even though there was no way she could taste anything.

Wolverine seemed almost embarrassed; it was Jean who was the confident one as she stood up, relaxing her grip on his cock but still holding it, still looking at it. “You’re still hard,” she whispered so low that the recorder could barely pick it up. Then something that Mary Jane actually couldn’t make out—something like “gives us more time.” Whatever. MJ didn’t care. What mattered was that they didn’t stop. So Mary Jane didn’t have to stop.

As Mary Jane felt a strong pull at the tip-top of her sex, Jean ripped open Wolverine’s wifebeater. His chest was caveman hairy and Jean buried her face in it, kissing wantonly, even sucking on his nipples before disappearing down his belly. For a moment, the saliva from her efforts gleamed brightly in the open air. Then the feed switched to another view. It was just what MJ had hoped for.

Marvel Girl was sucking Wolverine off.

That was enough for Mary Jane. The obscenity of it, the almost absurd dirtiness she felt seeing it, had her right on the brink of orgasm. She was just about to let it have her when she heard the door to the bathroom swing open.

“Hey, MJ?” Gwen called. “You in here?”

***

“Hey Flash, isn’t it kind of gay to be watching porn with no chicks around?”

“Shut the fuck up, Kong.”

***

Mary Jane crouched atop the toilet, thighs almost together except for her forearm between them, fingers furiously working in her wet cunt. With great difficulty, she kept herself from moaning; the only sound was the brief patter of her juices as a few drops rained on the surface of the toilet seat. She couldn’t let Gwen see her. But she also couldn’t stop. She’d barely been able to pause long enough to mute her iPhone and hide her clothes on top of the grab bar. Now she shuddered, imagining the taste of a man’s cock in her mouth.

“MJ?” Gwen called, her voice echoing as she looked under the sinks.

Mary Jane had never given a blowjob in her life. Peter hadn’t even asked. But now the thought sent tingles across her body; especially in her lips. To own a man’s cock with her mouth—to feel it twitch against her tongue as she licked it, the way Wolverine’s was doing while Jean stroked it with her tongue. The soft skin getting harder and harder as she, like Jean, sucked—harder and harder. Her cheeks going hollow like Jean’s, knowing how much he was enjoying her from the way his hardness pressed against her lips.

Gwen’s voice accompanied a creak as she opened the stall nearest the door. “Mary Jane, come on, Gruber’s going to notice you’re gone.” Luckily, there were ten stalls and MJ’s was on the other side of the room. She just had to finish before Gwen reached her. She just to keep thinking of having a cock to fondle with her lips, caress with her tongue—even stuff down her throat.

“Is this a Peter thing? If you’re having a good cry, just tell me—“

First the big purple head would disappear between her lips, and she’d be wearing some really awesome lipstick on ‘em. Then she would tease the sensitive tip with her wet tongue—maybe even use that tongue piercing she’d always wanted to get. She’d swirl his cockhead in her mouth, torment it until he was just about to come before taking another inch of his cock. And another, and another. Just like Jean was doing.

“MJ, I am five seconds away from assuming I’m in a horror movie and running off to find a cop. I know what happens to people who aren’t virgins in these things!”

Once he’d hit the back of her throat, she’d turn her lips into a tight little O. Then she’d really suck. Shame she couldn’t see whether Jean was using her tongue at the same time or just letting his tip rest on it, because both had sounded so good when Cosmo talked about it. But at the end, she’d use her teeth.

After suffering through braces for three years, she’d drag her straight-ass teeth up and down Peter’s shaft, pushing his endurance to the limit before she soothed the slight hurt with her lips. She’d even lap at his balls with her tongue. Letting him know she loved the taste of his—

Had she locked the door to the stall? Because Gwen was standing in it. Gwen was standing there and she was touching her cunt and—now Gwen was taking out her phone. Sending a text message. “I’ll just tell them you’re on your period. And need to do—period stuff.”

“Thank you,” Mary Jane whispered. And squeezed her legs together. For some reason, her fingers had started to feel a whole lot better in her cunt. And Gwen wasn’t leaving.

“You’re watching it?” Gwen asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

Mary Jane nodded. Her fingers went a little faster.

Gwen saw the cell phone. “Can you unmute it?”

Moving her free hand slowly, hesitantly, MJ hit the slashed megaphone icon on her phone. The sound came back. Wet. Slurping. Ghastly. Obscene.

Gwen leaned against the wall beside MJ and reached up her skirt, thinking how glad she was that she hadn’t worn panties.

***

Gwen and MJ watched breathlessly as Jean spun Wolverine around on the table, forcing him onto his back as she mounted him like he was a saddle. But the wrong way around. Mary Jane didn’t understand; Gwen thought reverse cowgirl. That wasn’t it. Jean got on all fours over Wolverine, backwards, her cunt over his face and her face at his cock. Gwen and MJ thought sixty-nine so close together that if they’d spoken, their words would’ve overlapped like twins in a movie.

Jean’s snow-white ass jutted up into the air, her panties baggy now that they’d been partially pulled away for Wolverine to get at her cunt. Now he craned his neck, trying to get back at her pussy before she lowered her hips against and let him lick her. Even with her lips ovalled on his cock, there was a wildly excited expression on Jean’s face that only made her seem more beautiful.

Mary Jane still felt a certain kinship with the redhead. She almost wished she was in the same position. Having a man who was caring enough not to miss a single inch of her box while he ate her out, but with enough cock to tickle the back of her throat. What would it be like to be in Jean’s place: red hair tickling his balls as she sucked him off, his tongue struggling to get as far as it could into her cunt.

It was all she could think about until she heard the soft moan from Gwen. She turned to look at her and that changed everything.

They stared into each other’s eyes, though their gaze also darted to what each girl was doing between her legs. Being watched quickened their fingers; seeing another girl touch herself pushed them closer to completion. They weren’t masturbating anymore. They were masturbating together. They even shared a moan, Mary Jane’s hips rising, Gwen’s hips lowering, their self-pleasure in elegant counterpoise to each other.

“What are you thinking about?” Gwen gasped.

Mary Jane’s voice cracked, her eyes drooped. She couldn’t believe Gwen had asked her that. She couldn’t believe she was answering. “A big, hard cock in my mouth. Tongue wiggling around in my pussy. If I wiggled my ass a little—oh!—it’d feel even better, wouldn’t it? I’m wet. I’m wet just thinking about it. He’d be cleaning me up with his tongue…”

“What if he did more?” Gwen asked, her own voice rushing, seething. “Reamed my ass out with his tongue…” Gwen sighed, long and deep, at the thought of it. “Fuck! Are you touching your clit?”

“Yes!” It sent electric shocks through her body. It made her back arch, her heart race. She could barely hold in the gasps that shot from her diddling like sparks from an arc welder. “And when he came in my mouth—mmm!” Mary Jane bobbed in place like she was listening to a song. “I’d swallow all of it. I’d take him all the way down my throat. I’d be the best he ever had!”

Gwen’s eyes were tightly shut as she fingered herself, her lips panting open. She gritted her teeth as her eyes fluttered open, staring at MJ through the beads of sweat falling from her forehead. “Mary Jane…” She pulled her skirt up.

Mary Jane could see her cunt spreading open to let her fingers in, see the three digits going in and out, see the gleaming juices that covered them. It was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. So hot that it took her a minute to realize she was using three fingers herself. Doing exactly what Gwen was doing.

“Do you like it?” MJ asked, her voice desperate. Needing. “Do you like watching me play with myself? You like watching me fuck myself?”

Gwen shivered, her fingers knuckle deep in her sex just like MJ. “Yes! Oh, yes!”

“Then fuck yourself! Watch me and fuck yourself! Harder! Harder! Put in another finger—put it in like it’s me fucking you!”

After that was said, there wasn’t much else to do but come. Both of them huffed and puffed and fucked, watching the other one huffing and puffing and fucking. All Mary Jane could think about was whether the muscles inside Gwen were clenching Gwen’s fingers as hard as hers were. The intensity of their masturbation became almost painful, but neither relented. They had to share the orgasm just as they’d shared everything else.

Slowly, sound fell away: the wet sucking noise her fingers made in her cunt, the grunts and groans from Gwen as she rode her hand, even the spellbinding audio from the smartphone. All Mary Jane came to hear was her own heart, pounding in her ears like it was trying to tell her something. Then she heard Gwen say her name again.

In the end, the iPhone was forgotten. Mary Jane was jackhammering herself to ecstasy. With her teeth clenched as tightly as they were, it seemed like a miracle she got her mouth open wide enough to scream, but there had to be something to drown out Gwen’s blissful wail.

The climax she screamed out was shockingly strong, like she’d meant to light a match but accidentally dropped it in an oil drum. She felt it not just in her cunt, but all through her body. She thought she felt it in Gwen’s body too.

“I’m coming,” Gwen said quietly, as if she couldn’t quite belief it. “I’m coming…”

They collapsed together, Gwen falling upon MJ who held her up as they both writhed, panted, sweated. It was all Mary Jane could do to keep hold of Gwen until the blonde was straddling her lap, her sex kissing MJ’s.

For a second it was like they only had one body between them. Mary Jane could not tell where Gwen’s cunt ended and hers began, where her pleasure ended and Gwen’s began. They let out two halves of a pagan moan and it joined between them. Even when the orgasm had ended, the aftershocks were just as good, drowning them in fresh waves of pleasure as they rolled their hips together like they were doing a dance.

“I can still feel it,” Gwen moaned.

“Me too,” MJ moaned back.

They kissed as much as they could while they collected their breaths, chests rising and falling and brushing together with little flares of pleasure every now and then. Mary Jane raised her hand, revealing to both of them how wet it was. Gwen began to kiss it. MJ hurriedly grabbed Gwen’s hand and licked the other woman’s juices off it.

“Peter broke up with you?” Gwen asked, after an interval so long MJ thought she had just regained the ability to speak.

“Yeah.”

“Fucking idiot.”

***

From where he was sitting, Logan could see the friends of whatever limpdick he’d been shanghaied into gathered ‘round one of those new doohickeys that let you look like a douchebag on the go. He recognized his body and Red, starting it up. So Jean’d decided she wanted to take the car for a ride after all, just not with him in the driver’s seat. Fine. Fuck her. Whoever he’d leapt into, kid had one hell of a galpal.

Sue’s been rubbing his thighs, kissing on his knees, college girl crap like that, but he’d let her do her boy-foreplay. Didn’t want to screw things up too bad for the nerd when he got his body back.

Finally, she unzipped him, turning his dick invisible so the rest of the class didn’t riot. He wouldn’t have known she was there, except he felt her hot breath on his cock, her wet lips parting to let his crown inside—then Logan jerked violently, feeling his balls crumple with the weight of a sudden ejaculation.

Despite himself, he felt a conjoined sense of frustration and relief mingling with shame as he humped in his seat, letting off another shot of jism. Sue had pulled away from the initial cumshot, and now his blast sprayed thickly onto her face.

Logan shook like a puppet with broken strings as another load fired from his cockhead, and another, and another. With a groan, a last shot hosed into her bangs, matting them to her forehead.

Sue stared at him, the invisible contours of her face revealed by the cum that covered her up like a beauty mask. “You know, usually that takes you a while longer. A lot longer.“

“Happens to a lot of guys,” Logan sneered. “Relax, toots. More where that came from.”

Taking a firm grip on his dripping prick, Logan began to beat his tool savagely. With a pretty blonde sweetmeat looking up at him expectantly, he expected it to go right back up to the granite hardness it’d had before he’d given Sue her facial. And for a moment, it did stand upright, tantalizing Sue with its length and stiffness.

But then, despite Logan’s efforts, it began to dip. The looming knob at the end shrank; the shaft went from a pole to a bow. Even his balls seemed to deflate. Logan’s hand became slushy with the fierceness of his stroke, but though his cock gave one hopeful twitch, it could not stop from melting back between his thighs.

Was it too much to fucking ask that Jeannie put him in a body with a goddamned healing factor?

Sue touched her face, smearing the sticky drops of cum that outlined her lovely face. With a thought, her forcefield extended to cloak them just as it did her make-up and clothes. Before she went dark, her expression was one of disappointment and maybe a little disgust. “I think I’d better go.”

“Just give me a minute here, woman! I’m gonna take your little cunt so hard, you’ll be able to fit a fist up there.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I am gonna have you so good you won’t even be able to take it. You might actually fight a little, trying to get it to stop feeling so nice, before my cock in your ass turns you into a total fuck-slut.”

“My ass? I—yeah, I’m going.”

Logan continued to pump his dick, even as it tried to slip through fingers. “Yeah, cum-slave, you’re gonna be afraid of how much you want this dick—show you a thing or two—show you how a man turns his woman into a total whore—ride that ass into the ground—fuck your little brown eye all night—“

A few rows in front of him, Flash conceded to Kong “Okay, maybe it’s a little gay.”

***

There was no way Peter could resist her for long, Jean knew, especially when it’d been God knew how long since he’s had a good fuck back in his own body. She doubted a guy who said ‘humina humina humina’ had much luck in the romance department.

She knew he’d come any minute, him and Logan’s body, and then his healing factor would kick in and he’d swell right back up again. And yet she took a perverted pleasure in keeping him from climaxing as long as possible.

She nibbled at him every so often, letting the pain drive back his orgasm, or just making him moan and groan. And all the while, she kept pouring knowledge through her psychic link, lecturing him on the merits of cunnilingus. As a telepath, she was a good position to know there were barely any women in the world who didn’t enjoy being eaten out. And so, as his unshaven jaw clamped on her cunt and his tongue flicked into her wet gash, she whispered into his mind.

Easy does it. Be gentle with the pussy. It’s just as sensitive as you are down there.

Just kiss it, kiss it like you would any other set of lips. Lightly at first; be polite.

Then French it—slide your tongue inside.

Explore what makes me different from every other girl.

That’s good—good—you’ve done enough for now. Suck on my clit.

Yes, that’s it there. Gently now—easy—yes—yes—and your tongue—yes!

YES! By Jove, I think he’s got it!

Peter had gotten the hang of it enough to let his concentration lapse, shoot back a reply: Wonderful time to quote musical theater, nerd.

Wonderful time to go over the formulas for an Einstein-Rosen Bridge to prevent premature ejaculation. You know how you’re supposed to eat my pussy, so eat it. EAT IT!

Thankfully, he did, observing her reactions with a scientist’s care for detail, exploring what felt good, what areas to touch, what rhythms, what patterns. His fingers dug into her ass, their callused pads in delicious contrast to the soft care with which he treated her body. Soon, her flowing juices might as well have been flammable, because she was ready to ignite. Her ass bounced around like a basketball, Jean pumping her hips, grinding her wet pussy into Peter’s face until she tensed—tensed harder, her body tying itself in knots, pulling together tighter and tighter to make her break.

She sent fireworks through her mental link to Peter as she cried out in a softly broken whimper, then collapsed on top of him, her cunt trying to cool itself on the cold metal of his inhibitor collar, her ass trembling before his wide eyes. When his hard cock popped out of her slack mouth, he began jerking himself off.

It took a moment for Jean to come back to reality, but when she did, she slapped his hand away. “No!” she practically snarled, not even bothering with telepathy. “Not yet! I want more of your cock, goddammit!”

Pulling herself up his body, she found herself crawling on all fours toward a robotic camera that had taken up position on the foot of the table. She gave it a smile as she straddled Peter, reverse cowgirl, spreading her thighs and her labia so the camera could see right into her.

Then she impaled herself on Peter’s cock. She knew the camera was recording every minute detail of the penetration. She didn’t care. She refused to be degraded by what the Genoshans had forced her into. If they were making her fuck on camera, she would show them how X-Men fucked.

***

“Yes! You like it, don’t you? Course you do, bitch! So take it! Take it!”

Sable sat in her chair bare-assed, pants still bunched around her calves. She’d only taken them off as far as her thighs, the rest had been gravity. She hadn’t wanted to miss a minute of the action on screen.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut up and fuck!”

She was staring, her eyes open almost as wide as her mouth. She knew she shouldn’t be gawking at this like it was just some nip-slip, but it was just so—they were so—

“Hell yeah! This is all you’re good for! Fucking me like the whore you are! And I’m gonna fuck you just like a whore should be!”

Maybe she should feel bad about watching this.

Later, though. When it was over.

Sable flinched. That had looked like it hurt.

***

Elektra had slightly more willpower than Sable. She’d managed the discipline to open up her top instead of simply rubbing her groin. She’d also taken off her pants. They were pooled around her ankles, completely forgotten in favor of her fully erect clit and well-lubricated sex. There was only so much willpower someone could have.

“You like the taste of my cum, bitch? Huh? Tell me! Tell me how much you loved my cum!”

Elektra was all ears as the reply came: “I love your cum—“

“That’s because you’re a little bitch! Now lick it up! Lick it like the bitch you are!”

She knew it was wrong to be touching herself like this, to be getting off on two people being forced in degradation. It was completely, unequivocally wrong.

Using the hilt of one of her sais would be no worse, though.

Nor the hilt of her katana.

***

Felicia loved playing with her breasts. They were incredibly sensitive; she could come just from a guy with the right moves getting to second base. As tempting as it was to attend to her needy cunt, she let the warm water there handle itself for the moment and squeezed her left breast with one hand as she tweaked her right nipple with the other.

Her laptop’s speakers pulsed like they were trying to play a rap song. “Drink it, yeah! Drink it up, drink it, bitch! Drink that cum, drink it all, yes, yeah!”

That was too much. Enough foreplay. The water was getting cold anyway. Felicia pulled out the stopper, then went to the tap, scooting her ass up the tub rather than leaning over. The water drained fast enough to let the cool breeze from the window lick at her skin—the perfect accompaniment to the fuck she was witnessing. She kept her eyes glued on it as she turned the faucet back on.

Hot water rushed down with the steady pressure of a waterfall. And she was bent double under it, her ass upturned, her legs over the cold and hot water taps. The water came down right on her cunt, heat blooming directly into her loins as she leaned down to rest her spine against the bottom of the tub. Fucking perfect.

She just had to arch her back a little and—yes—the water cascaded into and over just the right spot, through her lips, across her cunt, down over her body like a lover’s massage. All she had to do was rub her clit and she was soaking in pleasure. She could even pinch her nipple with her free hand. That pushed her over the edge. She came with her legs sticking straight up in the air.

It took Felicia a long time to get enough control over her legs to shut off the faucet with her toes, but after a while, even the indirect contact of hot water on her already overwarm cunt became too pleasurable to be withstood. The water off, she let the night air caress her body, ride her through the afterglow. Perfect evening. Perfect fucking evening.

At long last, she rose from the empty tub, her glistening body sporting soap suds like jewelry. She’d let the shower wash that off. For now, she closed her eyes, arched her back, and ran her hands through her hair, enjoying the thought that through the open window, she was putting on a show of her own.

Who needed Spider-Kid anyway?

***

For Jean, fucking Peter had been one massive blur of naked flesh, coitus, cum, and orgasms. For hours, she was used as relentlessly as she used Peter. It seemed every five minutes he was coming in her pussy, on her tits, in her mouth, even on her ass. Every orifice but her asshole was left overflowing with cum, and when he reentered her, even more oozed out onto her body.

She would’ve jerked him off, but her arms had grown tired. As did her legs. At the end, she just laid down as Peter fucked her. He at least tried to provide her holes a rest, switching from one to the other instead of just jackhammering one orifice as Logan would’ve done. And he never tried to fuck her in the ass. A true gentleman. No wonder Kitty liked him so much.

Finally, her throat muscles seemed too tired to swallow. She tried breathing through her nose, but when he took up fucking her face again, she grew lightheaded. Her world blurred, then became black.

She woke up a few minutes later, to a batch of strong-smelling cum impacting her cheek. Peter was jacking off on her face. She watched him come, then moaned weakly. As much as she’d enjoyed making ‘Wolverine’ her bitch, the reason she’d dated him in the first place was the animal dominance Peter brought to bear on her now, albeit far more tolerably. Maybe she should’ve stayed with Scott. Boy scout terrorist leader; that’d work for both her split personalities.

“I think I’ve had enough—“ she rasped out, “bitch.”

He helped her to her feet. He’d come on her so many times that, touching her, he was unable to avoid smearing the seed that was the only thing she wore. Think we bought enough time?

Jean felt too tired even to think. Unless I have a clone you can start fucking, we’ll have had too. If you come on me one more time, I’ll turn albino.

He helped her sit down on the table. Mojo’s voice came over the intercom, telling them to resume, but Jean felt safe giving one of the cameras the finger. Peter’s arms were around her, his touch so different from Logan’s. Comforting, not exciting. Sometimes she liked that.

So who’s coming to rescue us? The Ultimates? The Fantastic Four? …Hawk-Owl and Woody?

My ex-boyfriend.

“Cyclops!” Peter mouthed it, such was his surprise. The friggin’ terrorist?

Why do you think me and Logan volunteered for this? I just fucked his least favorite person in the world for four hours. What do you think he’s gonna do?

Kill me?

Relax, you’ve got a healing factor. At most, you’ll just feel excruciating pain.

Great. Peter’s claws popped out, smarting as they broke through the skin. He cursed, just not very well: “Fudge!” How do you turn these things off?

I don’t know. Say ‘bub’?

Peter sighed. You’ve made me miss having a symbiote.

To be continued in The Evils of Necessity.
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The Invisible Handjob