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Heat of the Moment	By : DrunkenScotsman Category: X-Men: (All Movies) > Het - Male/Female Views: 4292 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I'm in no way affiliated with Marvel or 20th Century Fox, nor do I own the X-Men multiverse in which the characters move. I'm not getting paid for this piece.

Chapter List
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A/N: Good news is, this chapter is the fun stuff you've all been waiting for. Bad news is, it might be Christmas before another update. This fic is still WIP. However, the 'UST' rating does not apply after this chapter, for reasons that will soon be obvious.

Chapter 4: Heat of the Moment

That smile, Kitty later reflected, was what did her in. What began as a friendly, comforting hug changed tenor when Bobby pulled back to plant a firm kiss on her lips. His lips were so delicious, she couldn’t pull away.

The teenagers surprised one another after only a moment or two. Tentatively their tongues explored, darting along the other’s lips; when the teens’ tongues touched, the contact was brief, glancing, just enough for taste buds to rub and let them sample each other’s taste. To Kitty, Bobby tasted of butter, salt, and cherry-hinted cola; to Bobby, Kitty tasted as if they both preferred the same cinnamon-flavored toothpaste.

Gingerly Bobby reached up to cup Kitty’s cheek; he marveled at how warm it felt to his fingers, how smooth her skin was. The brief tremor that passed over her body did not pass unnoticed, nor did the hitch in her breathing when her skin touched his. When she moved her head to nuzzle his palm without breaking the kiss, he responded by flexing his fingers to provide more pressure, more contact just below her temple. His other hand rested on her knee.

A small sigh escaped through Kitty’s nose; she decided she wanted to touch him as well. Her petite hands bracketed Bobby’s neck before beginning an expedition across his broad, toned shoulders. Her hands left in their wake what felt like an army of crawling caterpillars – a sensation both pleasant and a little uncomfortable. The pounding of her heart drowned out all other sound.

Emboldened, Bobby let his hand glide toward the back of her head, his fingers burying themselves between Kitty’s brunette strands. Usually Kitty was rather skittish about people touching her hair, but at this moment she relished the feeling of fingers skimming through her locks. The pinky-edge of his palm brushed along the curve of her ear, triggering a shiver straight down her spine until his hand rested on her shoulder.

Dimly Kitty felt herself growing warmer all over and knew she was becoming aroused. The fabric of her tanktop now rubbed against her stiffened nipples in a most distracting fashion. Ignoring the part of her brain screaming for her stop – or at least slow down – Kitty instead raked her fingertips down Bobby’s chest. The way his pecs twitched in response was nothing short of thrilling.

Bobby deepened the kiss further; no longer was the contact between their tongues furtive or fleeting, but continuous. Both of his hands slipped under her arms, encircling her and roaming up and down her back. Their combined balance reached its tipping point, until they both fell – a controlled fall, but a fall nonetheless – back onto the couch.

The teenagers paused, lips still locked. Bobby was lying atop Kitty, but her hip was digging into his stomach. A bit of squirming resulted only in a moment of stark realization for the teens: Kitty wasn’t the only one currently aroused, for which she was relieved, maybe even elated. Bobby, on the other hand, felt momentarily chagrined, until he noticed that whatever he was pressed against was even warmer than the rest of Kitty.

Both of them trembled as they resumed kissing. Bobby pressed himself closer, and Kitty responded in kind. Her hands slid down his back, accompanied by a shiver down the young man’s spine. His hands moved to her sides, cautious of the young woman’s breasts; with the slightest curl of his fingers, the tips followed the contours of her ribs, eliciting a stifled moan.

Aggressively – thus an unusual mode for Kitty – the young woman reached down to grab with both hands Bobby’s rear. Even through two layers of fabric, she could feel the rock-hardness – or rather, the ice-hardness – that came from his favorite sport, basketball. Kitty kneaded the muscle in delight; she knew Bobby enjoyed the sensation when he ground his groin against hers.

Meanwhile, Bobby’s hands were just as active, sneaking beneath the hem of Kitty’s tanktop to caress the narrow stripe of exposed midriff. The tip of his thumb circled her navel while the other fingers again raked lightly over her ribs. The skidding-washboard sensation was increased tenfold – in the perceptions of both parties – because of the directness of the contact, not to mention the proximity of Kitty’s breasts.

Kitty decided that she wanted her hands against Bobby’s skin with no intermediary cloth. Thus her hands dove under the stretchy material of the ‘beater’ to revel in the young man’s defined – but certainly not ‘bulging’ – musculature, her left hand on the chest, her right on the back. She raked her fingers along his skin to give Bobby a taste of his own medicine, and she now noticed the young man’s heavy breathing, his chest cavity expanding and contracting beneath her palms.

Still kissing – though their activity at this point might better be labeled “tongue-wrestling” – both teenagers basked in the glow of firing one another’s tactile sensory neurons. The timbre of the situation shifted, however, when Bobby let his hands wander upward to cup Kitty’s breasts. Her back arched almost immediately, thrusting her chest into his palms, eagerly seeking more of this novel contact. In the process, the bottom edge of her tanktop rode up from Bobby’s wrists to his knuckles.

The young man marveled at the suppleness of the flesh he now held. The orbs he found firm yet yielding; if a bit on the small side, they seemed quite sensitive. Experimentally he skimmed his thumb along the exposed surfaces until he reached the stiffened tip. Kitty promptly rewarded him with a strangled yelp and a full-body twitch. Both teens dimly noted that their lips were now only loosely pressed together, allowing them to inhale greater quantities of much-needed oxygen.

Not wanting, not daring to lose momentum, Kitty tugged down both the athletic shorts and the underwear Bobby wore. From the feel of the waistband she guessed that Bobby was wearing boxers, probably the softer all-cotton variety instead of the coarser cotton-blend type. To her initial dismay, only the rear portion followed her pull; the forward section was hung up, sandwiched between her body and his, interposed, interdicting. Kitty contented herself with touching the surprisingly-soft skin of Bobby’s derriere.

Two sets of eyelids lifted like curtains raised to let in the sun. Blue eyes met brown, both shining with an unfamiliar but not-incomprehensible light. For a moment, their hands, their breath, their hearts – and perhaps the whole world besides – stopped.

“Bobby,” she whispered, her voice pleading, yearning.

“Kitty,” he whispered, his voice reflecting hers but adding just the barest hint of uncertainty.

Kitty licked her lips. Bobby swallowed. Something in their brains clicked into place, and they knew. Instinctively, they understood.

Once more, Bobby and Kitty locked lips. Bobby lifted his hips so Kitty could get the front of his shorts and boxers down, a feat she accomplished only after freeing the garments from the young man’s impromptu coat-hook. Kitty wrapped her petite hand around what felt like a huge, throbbing pole; it thrilled her when Bobby spasmed.

In fact, Kitty’s grasp nearly forced Bobby to jump right out of his skin. Her hand felt so incredibly soft, so wonderfully warm, that he was thankful she didn’t yet dare to stroke him. When he took his turn at tugging on Kitty’s pajama bottoms and panties, she eagerly arched her hips to free her clothing from the constraints of gravity and friction. Bobby’s arms were only long enough to pull the garments to Kitty’s knees, but she obligingly took over for him by wiggling her legs until the nightclothes gathered at her ankles.

Bobby’s hand snaked its way down Kitty’s bare stomach, exploring, drawing ever closer to the hub of her arousal. A patch of short, curly hair – surprisingly soft to the touch – arrested his hand’s descent. While he took a few moments to run his fingers through the hair, Kitty – glad that she’d performed her weekly maintenance earlier in the shower – grazed her fingertips around the shaft she was holding. She felt it twitch from her attentions and felt her nub throb in anticipation of a similar caress. Bobby didn’t disappoint: his deft fingers stroked her nether lips, which were coated in slick liquid. Seemingly of their own accord, those lips peeled apart, exposing Kitty’s nub to Bobby’s questing touch, a touch that launched a thunderbolt of sensation throughout her entire nervous system. Her whole body jerked.

The teenagers continued to stimulate one another’s most sensitive areas. Swiftly their arousal built until noises of pleasure arose from deep within. Through their still-locked lips, though, the noises were emitted as mere whimpers.

Neither of them would have clear memory of what happened next – or, more accurately, of how exactly “the event” (as they later called it) transpired. Kitty only remembered inhaling sharply, her eyes shooting open as something inside her was breached. A spike of pain lasted only momentarily, replaced by a glorious sensation of fullness. For his part, Bobby thought he remembered Kitty pulling his erection toward her, until the tip made contact with the slippery softness of her spread-open privates. On the other hand, he knew he would never forget the initial feeling of being enveloped within the tight, smoldering wetness that was Kitty.

The pair lay still, savoring the sensations of the moment. Both were shocked, awed, flabbergasted to feel the other’s heartbeat – Bobby swelled and contracted with Kitty, Kitty clenched and released Bobby. Their lips briefly separated again to permit a scant handful of deep breaths with which to fuel the concluding stretch of their activity.

Purely on instinct, the two young people began to move, to dance the oldest dance known to humanity – a small token of commonality that they, as mutants, could share. Kitty wrapped her arms around the young man and, in a surprising show of strength, pulled him closer to her. Bobby’s hands clung to Kitty’s hips as they established a rhythm together. Their lips rejoined.

The pleasure they felt, the pleasure they gave each other, thoroughly overwhelmed them. For a time, all too brief, their bodies moved together as one, consumed in the heat of passion. Far too soon for either of them, they felt their respective climaxes grow imminent.

Kitty peaked first. Her hips lifted off the couch, breaking the established rhythm. A number of muffled grunts emanated from the corners of her mouth. Her grip on Bobby tightened – both her arms and elsewhere.

Bobby soon followed suit, Kitty’s noises and movements driving him over the edge. He groaned into his partner’s mouth as his climax evicted the breath from his lungs. His whole body stiffened, paralyzed – with the exception of his member, the pulsations of which signaled his release inside Kitty.

Moments passed in silence. Once more the teens pulled themselves out of their kiss; this time, they pulled away further. Their eyes, however, remained locked as the reality of what just occurred began to settle.
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Heat of the Moment