Brotherhood Ascendant

Lorna hadn’t been too thrilled at essentially being told to hook up, but her mind was quickly changed when she felt Bobby’s hard-on rubbing against her groin through their clothing. She kissed him passionately, grinding against him as she started to remove the intervening material.

Bobby was a little surprised when she pulled his shirt over his head, but he recovered enough to get her top off. After just a bit of fumbling, her bra followed and her soft breasts pressed against his bare chest. His icicle, as he preferred to think of it, strained harder against his jeans and he let out a low groan.

The noise seemed to excite her further, for she slipped her hands between their bodies to unzip his fly, easing the pressure as she tugged his jeans down. He didn’t have time to be embarrassed when his dick slipped out the front of his boxers, as she was already stripping off her own pants and underwear.

He stared at the neatly trimmed patch of green hair atop her pussy. It was way better than any of the pictures he had seen. He didn’t get long to look, though, before she got rid of his boxers and mounted him right there on the couch, his full length sliding easily into her slick folds.

He gripped her hips tightly. His voice was hoarse when he managed an, “Ohhhh God…” He was in heaven and never wanted it to end, the feeling of her hot wet flesh surrounding him. Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, Lorna began to ride him. Bobby groaned, straining to hold himself back. “L-Lorna… I don’t wanna… cum too soon…”

His words jolted her back to reality and she stopped her movements. “Oh, Bobby, I’m sorry… I guess I got a little carried away; I haven’t had sex in almost a year.”

He nodded weakly as the sensations subsided somewhat. “Yeah… wow, this feels incredible. I just wanna make sure you can enjoy it too, and if I cum right now, I don’t know if I could get it up again.”

She smiled understandingly. “We’ll take it a little slower, then. Let’s make it a memorable first time for you.”

And it was. Bobby would never forget that afternoon on the mansion’s biggest couch, sunlight streaming in the windows highlighting Lorna’s beautiful body as she moved over him. He would never forget feeling her twitch around him at her climax, nor his own peak immediately after. He would also remember the lazy, playful shower they shared afterward.

The War Room

Professor Xavier nodded to the assembled Brotherhood members. “Thank you all for coming. It has come to my attention that we would benefit from having an additional stealth operative on the team. Are there any suggestions?”

Ororo smiled. “I know just the mutant, professor. He’s a thief, a good one. Practically anyone that travels in criminal circles has heard the rumors. He belongs to the Thieves’ Guild in New Orleans. They call him ‘Le Diable Blanc.’”

Rogue frowned. “The whahte devil? Ya sure we want someone lahk that around here, Stormy?”

Beast tapped a few keys on the computer and brought up a blurry security camera image. After fiddling with the controls, he sharpened it enough to show a young man with blood-red irises and night-black sclera clad in a trench coat, flinging something that glowed magenta at the camera. “Intriguing,” Beast muttered as he tapped a few more keys to bring up what little information he could on the Cajun.

Remy LeBeau. Alias, Le Diable Blanc. Alias, Gambit. Last known location, New Orleans, Louisiana. Allegiance, Thieves’ Guild. Mutation, controlling kinetic energy. Signature weapons, bo staff and playing cards.

“Well, he’s not hard on the eyes, at least,” Wanda commented, chuckling when she got several looks.

Rogue argued, “Good-lookin’ or not, he’s still a swamp rat. And if he does work for this Thieves’ Guild, how are we gonna convince him ta work for us?”

Professor Xavier held up his hands placatingly. “I will use Cerebro to locate him.”

“He may have left the Guild on his own by now, anyway,” Ororo said. “I’ve heard he’s never approved of the feud between them and the Assassins.”

New Orleans, Louisiana

The atmosphere was hot and stuffy inside the Catholic church where Remy LeBeau stood, horribly uncomfortable in his suit and tie. He didn’t want to be there, waiting for a woman he didn’t love to walk down the aisle and put a golden handcuff on his finger. Damn the prophecy that brought him here, the one that said the feuds would end when an assassin fell in love with a thief. Of course his feelings were never considered; everyone had just assumed he felt the same for her. In reality, the most he’d ever felt was mild affection. She was as cold-hearted as the gators in the bayou, was Bella Donna Boudreaux. But even his adopted father, Jean-Luc, wouldn’t listen to him when he protested the marriage. Hell, he’d never even actually proposed--Bella had just gotten her own ring and set the plans in motion before he ever knew about them. And now it was too late.

Now, wait a minute, Remy, he thought to himself. Ain’t no one can make Remy do nothin’ he don’t want to. He was jerked back to reality as the music changed from Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Minor” to the wedding march. He glanced around the church, plans for a grand escape swirling in his mind. As it came together, his eyes returned to his would-be bride, walking down the aisle toward him. Even at this distance, he could see the cruelty sparkling in her eyes. She’d never fooled him, no matter how well she thought she hid it. Her malevolent streak was as wide as the Mississippi. Bella smiled at him, and he carefully returned it with his own roguish smirk.

The blonde arrived in front of him and moved to hand her bouquet to her maid of honor. Remy snatched it out of her hand and charged it with kinetic energy. As the congregation was still taking a collective gasp, he scattered the flowers, making a run for it while they exploded. He leapt through the stained glass depiction of the Resurrection, shattering it into a million pieces. The limo driver was leaning against the building, smoking. Remy deftly swiped his keys and was gunning the engine before the driver could react more than a single shout of protest.

He parked on the side of the road a block from the bus station and hastily changed into more comfortable clothes. Grabbing his trench coat and the bag intended to be carry-on for the flight to the honeymoon destination, he walked the rest of the way to get a ticket out of New Orleans. He would miss the city, for sure, but he couldn’t risk staying, not when both Guilds would be gunning for him after leaving Bella at the altar like that. He didn’t know where he’d end up, but he’d have to figure that out later.