I, Mutant | By : Nemain Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 6966 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men Evolution, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story. |
A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… I’ve decided that the weather is schizophrenic. Definitely. InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. J ProPhile: How’s the trip? Morgan: *glokey stalk * Readers/Reviewers: Thanks so much for reading/reviewing as you can!
She rose onto her knees, smiling slightly as she pressed her hands against her partner’s chest. He lay beneath her, face neutral but not displeased as she moved on him, taking him into her body with a slow downward thrust before starting a steady rhythm, her hips flexing in time with her rise and fall on his length.
He settled his hands on her hips carefully. He was not really certain about this—he had never done it before. He liked her well enough but he did not love her; this, he decided, was okay. He had never intended on doing this forever. Just to see what it was like. She was a sweet woman, kind and lovely, and she did not seem to mind inexperience. It did feel good, this act between them, but he was not sure how to describe it. It was warm, he thought, pleasant. It was not earthshaking but it was certainly not terrible. The tiny gasps and murmurs the woman made were certainly gratifying. Her body was nice, not too angular and thin but not overweight and soft. He decided he liked it very, very much, the primal connection that could happen between people even if they did not know each other very well at all. He liked the play of her muscles beneath her skin, how her body arched and shone in the light of the overhead fixture. She was dappled with sweat, her eyes half closed as she lost her rhythm, her movements become faster, harder but not as coordinated. He could feel her tighten around him, her body shuddering as the cry was torn from her throat. He dug his nails into her hips a little harder than necessary, judging by her sharp, pained gasp, but she did not stop her final thrusts, collapsing forward against his chest as she moaned and panted for breath. He reached up tentatively, his fingers tangling into her hair as he loosely held her. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to remember all of the things he had heard he was supposed to say at this point.
“I’d never have guessed,” she breathed against his ear, “that this was your first time.” She propped herself up just enough to see him clearly, her pink lips curving into a smile. He was still in her, still hard in her quivering body. She flexed her internal muscles just a bit, enough to make him widen his eyes. “Want to go again?” she teased, dropping her head to his shoulder.
“Okay,” he shrugged, sliding his arms around her back and moving quickly, turning so that he was atop her, her eyes wide now as she realized her facetious question was being taken seriously. He reached down and pulled her legs around him, first one and then the other, so that they were crossed behind his lower back. He liked how her thighs felt against him, he thought. Soft and smooth and firm all at once. She was bare between her legs, something which he usually found disturbing but oddly, did not mind at this given point in time. He felt her body shiver beneath him and a spike of lustful power blossomed low in his belly. He did not realize that it felt like this from this side of things, that he could finally feel as if he were in control, that he was bringing pleasure and desire and… Yes, he would admit it. He could bring utter and absolute helplessness to someone without drawing blood. Unless, he smiled, they wanted him to. He thrust into her without preamble, feeling her body tense before finally relaxing when she realized he was not going to hurt her irrevocably. He couldfeel the release tightening within him and he did not mind that it was coming on him so quickly. This was not an endurance trial, he heard his mentor intoning in the back of his mind. This was a test. To see if he could manage interaction like this, to see if he could survive the otherness of this sort of life. The woman clawed at his back, squirming wildly beneath him as he hit all the spots inside that made her scream and writhe in pleasure, her already tingling body overwhelmed by the new wave of sensations he was sending through her. After a bare few moments, he felt his release reach unbearable proportions, spilling out with a savage gasp, his own voice unfamiliar as he swore in surprised pleasure. He had never managed this even on his own. The sudden and sharp pleasure of climax making him ache. He panted for breath, moving off of her after a moment or two of shaking surprise, laying on his back beside her and staring at the ceiling as she regained her own breath.
“Wow,” she sighed. “You know, you seemed like such a stick in the mud when I met you last month,” she began, but fell silent as the man beside her rolled to his feet, slicking his hair back with the palms of his hands. “Hey! Where you going?”
“Bathroom,” he muttered, shuffling towards the small room in question, locking the door firmly behind him. The overhead light was harsh but he dismissed it with a glare, leaning forward to peer into the mirror. With barely any effort, he shifted, the maleness of him melting into something else entirely, the tan of his skin changing to an almost indigo shade, the brown hair becoming red. Power doesn’t have to be painful, Mystique smiled to herself. Now she could truly pass for anyone, anything. She could be someone other than herself. She could get used to this…
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