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Moira and Peggy	By : BillytheKidd Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 1321 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or any of the characters, and make no money from this. All characters are owned by our royal overlords at Disney.

Chapter List
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Peggy woke up the next morning, completely naked in the king-sized hotel room bed. The covers fell just shy of covering her navel, leaving her stomach and chest fully exposed to the cool morning air. Many cigarette butts burned out in the tray on the bedside table, and liquor bottles and glasses were strewn about the room. She tried to lean forward, but she sighed as realized that both of her hands were bound above her head in a pair of handcuffs that ran up through the balusters in the headboard. She glanced towards the floor, but didn’t see the key, or her clothes. She did, however, see Moira passed out on the floor, just as naked as Peggy. She was bent over a tall stack of pillows, exposing her twat to Peggy. Peggy let out a light girlish sigh, and called out to her girlfriend, “Moira…Honey?” Moira jolted awake, and rolled over. She blinked rapidly, trying to gain her composure.
“What happened?” Moira asked.
“You got fucked through the bed by a superior officer,” Peggy retorted.
“You’re the one handcuffed to the bed, dear,” Moira said, standing up and beginning to fiddle with the handcuffs, leaning over Peggy.
“You were the one naked, ass up on the hotel room floor,” Peggy said, her voice muffled by Moira’s modest breasts that covered her mouth.
“Oh hush, I’m trying to get you out of these.”
“There might be a key in the drawer,” Peggy suggested. Moira opened the desk drawer and, to her delight, found a handcuff key.
“Found it!” Moira said, her eyes lighting up with delight.
“Well then, let me out, whenever it’s convenient,” Peggy said, her English wit reminding Moira why she fell in love with her in the first place. Moira stepped back to the bed and unlocked the handcuffs. Peggy pulled her arms down and rubbed her wrists. She rotated her shoulders to alleviate the soreness caused by sleeping with her arms at such an awkward angle. She threw her legs out from under the sheets, stood up, and kissed her girlfriend.
The door slammed open, and Jack Thompson walked in. Moira grabbed the sheet off the bed, and pulled it up over her chest, trying to protect her modesty. Peggy, lacking even a sheet, used her left hand to cover her crotch, and her right arm to cover her tits.
“Relax ladies, I’ve already seen all of you.” He said. Surprisingly, this didn’t make the ladies any more comfortable, and they both stayed covered.
“What do you want, Thompson?” Peggy asked, obviously annoyed.
“I’m just here to tell the both of you to get dressed. We’ll be leaving for the target in an hour.” He replied.
“You haven’t told us the mission, or what to wear.” Moira inserted.
“Wear only what you find in each of those drawers,” He said, motioning to a dresser. “And exactly that, Moira. Your bra and panties need to match.”
“Why does the color of my knickers matter?” Moira inquired.
“You’ll see.” He said, shutting the door behind him as he walked out of the room.
“Why is that not remotely reassuring?” Moira asked. Peggy didn't answer. She opened her draw to find a white blouse, a short black skirt, and nothing else. A pair of black high heeled shoes sat on the floor next to the dresser.
“Fantastic!’’ Peggy said sarcastically. “I don’t have panties, again! What is this agency’s damn obsession with my twat being bared to the world. Would it kill any one of these men to let me wear knickers every once in a while?”
“If it makes you feel any better, this is what they gave me,” Moira said, holding up the tiniest of thongs. It was so small, it was hardly recognizable as a garment.
“It does, actually.” Peggy said with a smile, as she buttoned the last button of her blouse. She bent down to put on her shoes. Moira reached out and slapped her bare ass as she pulled up her short black skirt. Peggy yelped, and Moira lauged. Peggy leaned over and kissed her lover, who was now clad in the same outerwear as her lover, but with the addition of the tiny black thong and a revealing,black bra underneath.
An hour later, both of the women were in the employee room in the seedy club they were assigned to work at. They had to get close to the boss, and collect dirt on his affairs. But he wouldn’t hire male employees, so the ladies had to be sent in, Peggy as a waitress in the VIP area of the club, and Moira as a stripper.
Peggy, topless, as she had been instructed, walked towards and up the stairs to the VIP area of the club. She tried to avoid thinking about how many people below the stairs could see right up her skirt. She had men try to look up her skirt before, but she’d never not been wearing panties while they did so. But those were all the way back in her apartment room in New York City, far from the stairs to the VIP area, where she was now standing. She had entirely put the fact that she was also topless out of her mind.
She walked past the VIP guard, ignoring the looming glance the man made at her exposed breasts. She imagined he was staring at her ass as she passed him. She walked up to the bar, took a deep breath, and spoke to the bartender.
“Hi, I’m Peggy. The boss just had me transferred up here. I guess you’re in charge up here. What do you want me to do?” she asked.
“Well toots, you could start by giving me a spin. Slowly.” he said, a scheezy grin spreading across his face.
“Um..okay,” she said, grossed out by how sleasy the man was, but knowing that the mission came first. She slowly began to turn.
“Lift up your skirt.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself, before lifting her skirt. She thought about only lifting it halfway, but she knew he would just make her lift it back higher.
“I might as well just get it over with,” she thought, as she lifted her skirt, exposing her neatly trimmed bush and small, round ass to the patrons of the VIP area of the bar. Everyone got a good look at her privates as she spun around in a full three hundred and sixty degree arc. As she turned back to face the bartender, she dropped her skirt, as his eyes came to rest on her tits, her pink nipples hardening in the cool air of the climate controlled lounge.
“Here, take this tray to table 2,” he said, handing her a tray with a single glass of whiskey. She looked over at table 2, seeing a man, about 6’3”, well built, and wearing mutton chop side-burns that would have been more fashionable 80 years ago. He wore blue jeans, and a dark, button up shirt. He had notably not looked up a moment ago when Peggy had given her little performance a moment ago.
“I gotta warn you though, toots, I know he don’t look it, but he’s awful handsy with his...servicers,” the man said, smiling an amount that concerned Peggy. She gulped, taking the tray, and focusing her mind on getting into the back room, at any cost. The bartender watched her skirt swish back and forth as she walked away.
Peggy could have sworn that the walk to the table that had been labeled 2 took hours. In reality it took only seconds.
“Here is your w-whiskey, sir,” she said, lowering his glass and napkin onto the table. She paused, waiting for him to look up from his book. He didn’t. She turned, beginning to walk away, before feeling a pinch on her ass. She shrieked, her first instinct being to slap the man’s hand, but knowing that that would probably get her fired. She turned.
“Please don’t do that Mr.-”
“Howlett. James Logan Howlett,” he said, “And I’ll damn well do what I pay to do. So how about you go over there, and wait in suite 3, and I’ll be there when I finish my whiskey. I’ll let the bartender know that I’m borrowing you out for a little while. Got that?” he said, looking up, and removing the cigar from his mouth.
She started to protest, but was silenced by the glare from James.
“Yes sir,” she said, before turning and heading to the suites. She passed the bartender, who nodded approvingly as she walked into suite number 3. She found the door unlocked. Peggy had read about these so-called “Gentle-man’s Suites” in the reports. They were a place where the top-patrons could stay the night, and take back the waitresses for some private companionship. The report had ended there, but being in the real thing gave her a deeper insight. The room was about the size of a standard hotel room, with a king sized bed in the middle. There was a nightstand on either side of the bed, one with a lamp, the other, an alarm clock. There was a large dresser against the other wall. She opened the drawers to find all the right drawers filled with Men’s clothing, probably Mr. Howlett’s. The left were all filled with women’s clothing and lingerie, provided by the club to sex up the waitresses. She thought about dressing herself, but was afraid that would piss the angry man off. She noted the open bathroom door, and hoped she wouldn’t have to use the shower inside. So she sat down on the bed, to wait for Logan to show up.
Meanwhile, Logan was finishing his whiskey. He drained the glass, and walked up to the bar.
“Give me the biggest bottle of red wine you’ve got, a flagon of champagne, 4 glasses, a 12 pack of Heineken, two boxes of cigarettes, and two dozen cigars,” Logan said, with gruffness in his voice. The barkeep resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that that could be hazardous to his health. The barman quickly gathered the order, and handed it to Logan. He didn’t ask for money, as Logan’s annual dues for access to the more exclusive area of the club gave him inclusive access to the goods and services of the club. It was not inexpensive to belong to the VIP area, but it came with its benefits. Against all odds, Logan managed to carry all of his items in his arms back to his suite.
He opened up the suite, and locked the door, before setting all of his order on top of the dresser. He looked at the bed, to see Peggy sitting on his bed. She sat upright as he entered, and started to stand.
“Come over here.” he said, his voice as gruff as ever. She walked up to him, and stopped, standing in front of him. “Take off your shoes, please,” he said. Peggy did so, bending down and stepping out of her shoes, fully committed to keeping her cover, even if it meant fucking this guy. As her bare feet hit the carpet, she looked up, fully realising their 8 inch difference in height without her heels. “And your skirt,” he added. She looked down, and undid the button, her trembling fingers struggling to undo the zip, before dropping her skirt to the floor and stepping out of it.
Logan tossed her onto the bed, before undressing himself. He sauntered over onto the bed, setting the wine on the nightstand, and embraced Peggy. He climbed on top of her, pressing his lips against hers. She reciprocated, kissing back against him. She spread her legs, as Logan lined himself up with her sex. She tried to convince herself that it was all for the sake of the mission, but try as she might, she knew that she wanted to do this, and not just for the sake of the mission. She moaned loudly, as Logan filled her up. He pushed in and out, till she lost control, and orgasmic bliss overtook her.
Logan picked her up, pulling her against his sweaty body with one hand, and the bottle of wine with the other. He carried her into the bathroom, and into the shower, but did not turn on the faucette. He pulled her sopping wet cunt onto his still erect dick, and held her by the thoat as he began fucking her again. He opened the bottle of wine with his other hand, and took a long sip. The wine tasted sweet, just the way Logan liked it. He turned the bottle over, and poured a sizable amount over the naked brunette's head, and down onto her tits, coating her body in the sweet, sticky liquid. Some of it ran down into the neatly trimmed hair that covered her cunt, and some ran down her back and between her cheeks. She sprung awake, the cool liquid calming the heat of the sex. He bent down and began sucking on her tit, tasting the sweet wine. She moaned, her head pressing against the wall of the shower. She felt Logan finish inside of her, thankful that the SSR required it’s female agents to be temporarily sterilized during their missions with the agency. Her slick skin slipped against the shower wall as Logan pulled out and set her down on her feet. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed into Logan’s chest. He pulled her closer, feeling her soft, full breasts against his abdomen.
He turned around, the attractive brunette still in his arms, and turned on the cold tap. Logan always took freezing cold showers, but Peggy was used to warmer water. The cold nearly put her into shock. She was wide awake, and her nipples had hardened into diamond points. She felt Logan push her head under the tap, soaking her hair. She closed her eyes as he grabbed a bar of soap. He turned her around, and pulled her back into him. He spread the soap across her chest, lathering it on her tits, and down to her stomach, before dipping the bar down against her crotch, causing her to moan as the cool soap touched her pussy. He continued, soaping down the rest of her body, her legs, her ass, and her back, before pushing her under the tap again, rinsing the soap from her, it pooling it a bubbly swirl at her feet. He washed himself, and turned off the tap. They exited the bathroom, and Peggy walked to her discarded skirt and started to put it on.
“What the hell are you doing?” Logan asked, staring at the naked woman with a skirt halfway up her legs.
“I figured we were done...um, so I was getting dressed to go back to work,” She said, her voice shaking as she realized her error.
“Well were not, so fucking take them off,” he said, growling as Peggy dropped her skirt, once again naked. He beckoned her over to him.
Meanwhile, Moira was downstairs, being prepared for her first experience as a stripper
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Moira and Peggy