|
|||||||
1-Shiva
2-2
3-3
4-4
5-5
6-6
7-7
8-8
9-9
10-10
11-11
12-12
13-13
14-14
15-15
16-16 and 17
17-17
18-19
19-20
20-21
21-22
22-23
23-24
24-25
25-26
26-27
27-28 (edited)
28-29
29-30
30-31
31-32
32-33
33-34
34-35
35-36
36-37
37-38
38-39
39-40
40-41
41-42
42-43
43-44
44-45
45-46
46-47
47-48
48-49
49-50
50-51
51-52
52-53
53-54
54-55
55-56
56-57
57-58
58-59
59-60
60-61
61-62
62-epilogue
|
|||||||
SHIVA—CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE (NC-17) Disclaimers Apply A/N Okay. I am officially no longer in a snit so I can be all groovy now. Foxfeather is a goddess and Ted is inexhaustible (I suspect some mojo on her part, but so long as it’s okay for me to do the same with Joaquin and Billy…lol). InterNutter, Maxwell Pink and TC are lovely chocolate-coated goodness for archiving and putting up with flooded inboxes every time I send another chapter! And to everyone who read/reviewed: I have a shrine built to you in my backyard where I engage in wine-soaked orgies while the ducks play canasta with the goose in the kitchen. Just kidding about the orgies…or am I? ;) Jean felt the now-familiar melting start low in her groin, sending tendrils of almost painful desire through her abdomen and legs, making her eyes dilate in the half-light of late evening at the mansion. The smell of hydrangea[1] bathed her in on the night breeze and she gently bit the inside of her lower lip to keep from sighing luxuriously. It took her a moment to realize that this rising lust was not truly her own but a projection from someone nearby. Mildly disappointed but coming[2] to own this tide of heat for her own, feeding off this energy being inadvertently sent to her, Jean struggled to sit up and seek the source. Her rib sent a shock of pain through her body but a new wave of desire subsumed the searing red sensation with a purple, soft one. Geezum crow[3]… I have got to thank whoever this is…Wowza… The sensation increased and Jean had to settle back against the garden bench, her ribs long forgotten in the liquid heat pouring through her veins. Who the Hell is out here? Or are they just really projecting? And do I care either way? Jean sighed aloud then and felt her skin flush with ghost-touches, someone else’s hands caressing someone else’s flesh…If this is Bobby and St John, I may kick their asses after kissing them both soundly for this… Jean felt vaguely guilty, like she was a peeping Tom. Does this count as self-gratification or cheating on Scott? She dismissed both thoughts out of hand—It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose…Okay, I could block it, but…Oh. Jean tightened her hands on the armrest behind her head and curled her toes with a new crash of pleasure over her body. She could feel a faint sheen of sweat seep across her brow and start to trickle down the back of her neck, and it was like this that Scott found her. “Jean?” He sounded shocked to her buzzing ears. “What the Hell…” He had come out to the garden looking for her, knowing how she liked to read there to relax. If this is a dream, I am never, ever, ever going to wake up… “Scott!” she gasped, her eyes flying open and fixing to his even as she panted in excitement. He was less than a yard from her and could practically feel the heat coming from her body; in that moment, Scott desperately wished that he could see her without his glasses, to see exactly what her skin looked like flushed with passion, to see her eyes in their true color, boring into his as he brought her pleasure even greater than she was obviously feeling then and there. “Who is it?” “No…idea…Scott…” Jean looked away then, struggling for control. “Help?” His heart lurched to his mouth and he felt his already tightening arousal suddenly become rock-hard. Ouch. Switch to boxers tomorrow… “Jean…I want to but I can’t if you’re not…yourself…” Damned fearless leader mode… Fuck a duck. I am such a stick in the mud! Jean’s eyes fluttered shut and she took several deep, calming breaths. With great effort, she creakingly opened her fingers on the armrest and flexed them, bringing back circulation. Her skin was cooling but the desire was still throbbing between her thighs. I can do this…control is good. I can get through an entire pep rally sitting with the guy’s soccer team while the cheerleaders shake their asses in those ridiculous skirts. I can do this… “You…are…no…fun…” she panted. “For a change…” With a wince, she pushed herself upright. “Let me help…” Scott surged forward then, chivalry rising above lust. I want her so bad but I can’t have her if I’m not the one making her feel that way… “No!” she snapped, rising painfully to her feet. “I can take care of myself…” She let the double entendre hang as she turned on her heel and lurch-walked to the mansion. “Shit,” Scott said softly. “What did I do now?” Amara slept somewhat peacefully. Lance made sure of it. The day had been rather uneventful, all things considered. The assorted mutants, despite having a day off of school mid-week, were well behaved, some actually doing school work while others kept to themselves, playing computer games and the like. Amara had seen Kitty once, speaking only two words to her, “Welcome back,” before disappearing to her own room again. Lance had found her there, kneeling before her statue of Poena and whispering to herself. Creeping cl, La, Lance realized that she was speaking her native Latin variant, unintelligible to him. He did not dare interrupt her, not while she was so unguarded. She would kill me. Quietly, he shut the door behind him and sidled to the bed, carefully laying on his stomach, facing her, not daring to shift for fear of a random squeak of protest from the mattress. Amara raised her hands in supplication and Lance caught Tabby’s name, spat with vehemence by the Nova Roman. Quickly and quietly, Amara produced a small pouch from a string around her neck and emptied it into the offering dish before the statue. With her gold knife, she cut a lock of hair and added it to the bowl and then, before Lance’s startled eyes, split the skin on her forearm efficiently and soundlessly, letting the blood drip from the thin line into the dish. Lance tensed, ready to leap on her if Amara showed signs of doing more, cutting herself again, hurting herself in the name of personal strength. Lance was so involved in his own thoughts that he almost missed her rise to her feet and bow low before Poena, pausing for a moment before turning to her bed. “Oh.” “You don’t seem surprised to see me, Princess.” Don’t act like Freak Show, all drooly. Just be cool. Like you have every reason to be here aside from the fact you want to do something girly like cuddle. Ugh. Cuddle—need to find a manlier word. “I just expected you to be standing. I could smell you come in.” She tapped the side of her nose vaguely, not coming closer but peering at him as if peeling his outer layers to see his soul. “Smell me? I showered…” Lance surreptitiously checked his B.O. and found…Nothing. Wonder what she’s on about? “Your cologne. I know it.” Sheesh. I knew I shouldn’t wear cologne. Pietro always did say it was a girly trait. “I’ll never sneak up on people if they can smell me coming.” Amara raised an eyebrow and crossed to him, sinking into a half-lotus position near his head. Lance rolled to his side and propped his head on his palm, eyeing her assessingly. Finally, she said “What do you want?” “To finish what we started earlier…” Before Jean had her incident, Lance had managed to get Amara into a passionate kiss, his hands caressing her breasts and sides, eliciting moans of pleasure from his girlfriend. Before things could get more interesting, they had to break apart. Amara smiled faintly. “I think that can be arranged…I feel almost my old self.” Despite her words, she was still a little sore in places where her bones were knitting and she was prone to headaches if she moved too suddenly. “In fact…” she murmured, sliding one bare leg, exposed beneath the shorts she wore, “I feel quite like my old self…” she continued as her toes nudged Lance’s wrist, making his arm shift and his head fall. Hope glinted in his eyes. “How much like your old self?” Pain good…pain nice…Amara can punish me anytime she wants to. “Have you been a good boy, Lance?” she purred, shifting so that one leg rested across his ribs and the other trailed to the floor, her thighs parted a mere six inches from Lance’s face. “Mmmm,” was his incoherent response, his eyes fixed on one olive-toned thigh. With a bare minimum of movement, Lance pressed his lips to the inside of Amara’s knee and suckled softly, drawing a soft moan from the girl before she remembered their game. “I didn’t give you permission…” she growled, drawing her legs up and away from Lance’s questing mouth. “Please?” he murmured, the word coming easier with each time they played at this domination. “Please, Princess?” “Why should I? What have you done to deserve it?” She remained laying down but draped her legs over his side now, pinning him in place and putting the curve of her outer thigh temptingly close to his mouth. She smiled to herself, feeling his ragged breath on her skin and knowing that her affect on him had not diminished. “I took care of Tabby for you…” Lance closed his eyes and tried not to smell her very faint perfume and musk enveloping him. “Did you? How do I know for sure?” Amara made her voice petulant but she had trust in Lance, something she would never admit on pain of death for fear of exposing her weakness. Lance, however, snapped. Moving like a striking snake, he sat up and rolled Amara onto her stomach and straddling her across the hips. She gasped and slapped at his legs, trying to make him move, until he pinned her hands above her head with one of his. Close to her ear, he breathed, “You know for sure because I love you.” “Shut up!” she hissed and arched weakly against his restraint. Her healing ribs protested only faintly so she tried again, earning a sharp nip on her ear from Lance. “No, you shut up…” You said you liked it when I’m angry…suck it up, Princess! “You listen to me! I love you and you’d better get used to it, God damn it! You can take control in bed all you want—in fact,” it was his turn to purr now, his voice silky in her ear and making her shiver, “I really like it. I like how you take control of me, make me want you so badly that it’s all I can do not to throw you down and fuck you until you scream yourself hoarse. I can make you do that—you know it and I know it. And I know something else…” Lance pressed into her, his arousal obvious against the swell of her buttocks. “you love me.” Amara gnashed her teeth against a rising scream of frustration. “No, I don’t. I want to fuck you and that’s it.” “Liar,” he mocked, licking the curve of her neck. “When you tell the truth, you can have control again…Until then, I’m in charge, baby.” “Lance, let me up!” She wriggled quite enticingly against his arousal, making Lance suck the inside of his cheeks to suppress a moan. “Now! I order you…” ‘Nuh-uh, honey pot.[4] You’re staying right here…” Still holding her hands captive with one of his own, Lance swept her thick hair from her neck with his other hand and pressed a lingering kiss to her nape, where he knew it would make her nipples tighten and her skin dance with gooseflesh. “You love me and you’re scared. Big bad Amara is scared…” “Am not!” she growled childishly. “Are too!” he sing-songed back. “Just think of me as your personal boogey man until you admit it…Or the thing that goes bump in the night…” he added, grinding aginast her for emphasis. Amara could not help the soft moan that escaped her then and Lance nipped at her neck in approval. “Tell you what…I’ll let you up and willingly, happily, do whatever you want me to. Anything at all…just tell me you love me and mean it.” “I can’t!” “Can’t or won’t?” She sounds like she’s going to cry… “Damn it!” Amara writhed again, weaker than before, and pulled against his grip. “I won’t say it.” “Too bad…and I was a very naughty boy this week…in dire need of punishment…” Lance sighed theatrically. “Well, off to bed then. Have a nice night….Alone….allllllllll alone…” Moving fast, he moved off of her and was at the door before she could roll onto her back. “Asshole!” she spat. “Love you too, Angel!” He blew her a kiss mock-cheerfully and shut the door quickly between them. His false smile sliding from his face, Lance sank weakly to the floor. Damn it! If she could just prove it to me, I wouldn’t feo…gao…gah! Sad, depressed, lonely…I love her and she’s right—it makes you weak! But damn it, I want to be weak with her, not because of her… Lance forced himself to his feet and trudged sadly back to his little-used room to sleep alone, all traces of desire melting away the further from Amara he was. Rogue and Toad sat awkwardly in the wingback chair for over an hour, Todd’s arm carefully around her middle back, Rogue’s shirt protecting his bare arm. “So…” he finally said. “Don’t talk.” Rogue did not snap, just stated the words simply. “Okay.” Silence fell again and Todd sighed, sinking back against the soft chair. “Back hurts,” he explained when Rogue shot him a look. “Sorry.” I’m an ass—he’s hunchy and sitting up straight like that’s got to be murder…”Look, the thing is…I don’t know.” “How’s that, yo?” he said quietly, still tense enough to fall into his “street” speech pattern. Fuck it. He’s got to be the only one so far who’s not trying to feel bad for me because of my skin or trying to tell me to bugger off when I try to explain what I got from Tabby… “Okay. Here it is. I got a healthy dose of Tabby earlier when…um…” Her powers of speech failed her, hot shame and anger rendering her silent. “Yeah…earlier…” Todd prompted, studying his dirt shoes where they pressed into the cushion of the chair, pretending not to feel the heat from her sudden full-body blush. Hot Rogue…bad Todd! Think good thoughts…Not that kind of good! “Earlier…And Tabby had seen someone…something…Todd, I think there’s a dead body at the boardinghouse and I think it might be Kitty’s cousin, from some of the stuff I picked up.” Swallowing dryly, he managed to ask, “How?” “Pietro, she had a memory of her saying that Ruth was waiting for Magneto and she wasn’t going anywhere in the bag…That the…” Rogue hated herself then for feeling tears prick her eyes, “that the blowjobs were great and all, but, in his exact words, ‘How about a ride?’.” Todd sighed to himself and chanced tightening his arm around Rogue. He barely noticed her mild gasp of surprise—no one ever sought to touch her much more than that which was polite or mandatory. “Pietro,” he said finally, “is a jackass.” Rogue snorted. “Understatement.” “How do you know there was a body in the bag? Maybe Tabby was just…I dunno…wishful thinking?” Rogue mulled this over. “Maybe. But I told the Professor. Logan and Storm are out now, looking for Ruth. Professor says that they have a very good idea where Magneto was holding Kitty and where Mystique might be…” At the mention of his housemother’s name, Todd cringed. “What’s she got to do with anything?” “She was in on it. According to what I’ve heard, at any rate. She…” Rogue sighed again, suddenly very tired, “she was the woman in the van.” “Fuckin’ A!” Todd had never wanted to kill Mystique before that moment, but the feeling was sudden and certain. “She…she was so close? And no one noticed?” “No one noticed,” Rogue confirmed a tad embarrassedly. “She’s very good at hiding…she got out before Logan could sniff her out, but he was able to pick up her trail until she crossed into the woods across the way. That’s when the Professor sent him out.” Rogue leaned ast Tst Todd then, making his heart race impossibly fast. Licking her lips in sudden nervousness, Rogue whispered, “Thanks for comforting me, Todd.” Todd blushed beet red. “I, ah, didn’t do nothin’. Just sat here…” Rogue had a rather sickening realization then. Fuck me! I like Todd Tolensky! I like Todd Tolensky! Toad! ARRRRRRRRRGH!!!!! How? Why? Shit! I know how and why… Her next words were carefully chosen, her revelation rocketing from one corner of her mind to the other. Tabby, in her head, was crowing for Rogue to “jump him! You know you want to!” while her own voice was telling her to stop listening to her heart and be “Fucking logical.” “Todd, have you ever…you know…wanted to spend time with me?” Erk. Ribbit…If you only knew…I spend time with you all the time…ever since I met you…every night you’re in my room with me… “Um, yes…” Rogue bit the bullet then and decided to lay it on the line. “Here it is: I’m not nice. I never have been and never will me. I enjoy being a bitch, to tell the truth. I hurt peoples’ fegs….gs….a lot. I’m not proud of it, but it happens.” “Okay….” Where is she going with this? “And,” she was on a roll now, “I have been hurt by every guy I’ve liked since as far back as I can remember. Evene one of ‘em. They either try to change me or hate the idea that they can’t screw me or even cop a feel without dying.” “You’re dating the wrong guys, yo.” Todd’s voice was soft and his accent was heavy, evidence of his nervousness. Rogue sighed. “I’m going to tell you something and I don’t want you flipping out. I may be giving myself a lot of credit there, but I had to warn ya…Todd…” Rogue took a deep breath, then another. “Todd, I like you.” “Whaaaaa?” he said, his jaw dropping wide open. “Ilikeyou. A lot.” Rogue’s face burned and she struggled out of the squishy armchair, striding to the window while Todd stared into space. “So…yeah. You make fun of me, I kick your ass.” “Nghrkx.” “What?” “Okay…” Todd managed to choke out the second time. “You…you like me? Like me-like me?” At Rogue’s furtive nod, he asked, afraid to find out, “Why?” “Because…” she did not hear him rise from the chair and cross the room to stand behind her in one bound.” “Because why?” he whispered, scared she would take it back. Rogue, startled, turned to face Todd, his eyes just below hers and necessitating that she look down into their large green pools. “Because,” she finally answered, “you’re you…” Jamie cringed and felt like gagging. “What is it, Jamie?” “Todd and Rogue….He’s….ugh!” A shudder running the length of his body, Jamie darted back to the table from the doorway to the rec room. “They’re all…lovey dovey!” “Don’ be daft, lad!” Rahne snorted, shoving her bowl of ice cream aside and going to look for herself. “Ugh!” she groaned a moment later. “Are they putting crack in the water here?” “I don’t know…but ugh!” Jamie shoved another mouthful of cherry-vanilla swirl into his mouth and closed his eyes against the sudden headache that ensued. “Ugh just about sums it up.” Rahne swirled her spoon through her melting ice cream and shoved it aside roughly. “We’re not that gross, are we?” Jamie gave it considerable thought. “Well, we really haven’t done anything…” he allowed. “Kissed,” Rahne pointed out blushing. Jamie, equally red, nodded. “Yeah…” “That’s something, isn’t it?” Rahne shrugged, aiming for an uncaring gesture but ending up with one that was more insecure. “Yes! I mean…yes. Of course it is.” Jamie shoved his bowl to join Rahne’s. “But TODD and ROGUE!” Rahne sighed. “Take it where ya find it, big boy.”[5] “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jamie felt his brows creep upward, his mind screeching to a halt mid-kiss fantasy. “It means, Jamie me lad,” Rahne scooted around the table to slide up next to him, “that ye can’t really help who ye love or like. If you get tha chance an’ ye miss it,” she made a fluttering gesture with her fingers, “it’s gone…Wouldn’t you rather try somethin’ and know then that you didna’ like it rather than wonder?” Jamie, fascinated by the smattering of freckle’s on Rahne’s nose, could only nod. “I…I guess so!” Rahne bumped his shoulder with hers. “C’mon, Jamie! What if I told ye that I had a wonderful ice cream flavor, something fantastic, an’ I give ye a bowl…But it’s green and black an gray an lumpy wit weird bits on it…” “Rahne! Ew!” “Hear me out…I tell ye it’s Heaven on Earth, just ugly. You’d still not try it?” “Ummmm….” Jamie slanted his eyes towards Rahne and found himself nodding. Can’t refuse her…superpowers failing… “So ye try it,” she continued, warming to her theme, “an it’s all your favorite flavors rolled into one. It just looks nasty. Really, really nasty. Every time ye eat a bowl of it, people gag and run from the room. Would ye give it up? Would ye never eat it again?” “All my favorites?” Jamie sighed and leaned lightly against Rahne in an almost virginal flirtatious gesture. “I guess not…” “Would ye hide it?” “Eating it or the carton?” he asked seriously. “Either…both…” Rahne tentatively let her hand find his and rested her smaller one atop. Jamie shyly turned his hand palm-up, lacing his fingers loosely with hers. “Well, I might at first, then I’d get tired of having to be sneaky…” “So,” she asked, a little roughly, “ye’d just ignore people when they said it was disgustin’?” “I guess so.” Jamie sighed and rubbed his thumb across the back of Rahne’s hand. She smiled a little and squeezed his hand, drawing it to her mouth and kissing his knuckles, Jamie’s eyes widening exponentially. “That’s Rogue and Todd, I guess. He’s the ice cream and she’s got to decide.” Jamie swallowed twice, throat suddenly dry. “How, um…how can you tell?” Rahne opened her mouth to respond, Jamie’s hand still held tightly in hers, resting just beneath her chin, when the door between the kitchen and the mudroom slammed open, hitting the wall with a resounding thud. “Fucking hell, Remy! I just asked a simple question!” Jubilee’s voice trailed the Cajun through the door. “An’ I answer you, chere! Leave off!” Remy spun to face her, presenting his back to a rather surprised Rahne and Jamie. Bracing his hands against the door frame, Remy effectively blocked Jubilee from entering the kitchen. “No!” Jubilee stamped her foot, feeling childish. “You avoided answering me! You danced and dodged and damn it, Gumbo, I want to know what the fuck is wrong?” “Ah, want us to leave?” Jamie asked quietly. Remy turned and stared as if surprised that Jamie and Rahne were there. Jubilee’s face appeared below Remy’s arm where it was braced against the door frame. “No. I’m leaving.” She ducked and tried to pass but Remy was quick, scooping her up under one arm. “Cheese and crackers! Put me down!” “C’mon, Jamie…I think there’s something I need to show you in the…ah…” “The Danger Room?” he suggested brightly. “Show me stuff there!” “Right on, Jamie….” Rahne and Jamie sauntered from the room, their steps breaking into a fast cadence once they entered the Rec Room. Rogue’s surprised ‘Hey!’ echoed through the kitchen as the couple nearly bumped into Rogue and Todd, awkwardly embracing in the window seat. “Put me down, Remy!” Jubilee snarled, struggling agaithe the Cajun’s hold. “Non! You jus’ go harin’ off like you tail on fire if I let you down!” Remy looked around for somewhere to put her and only saw the counter and table tops. “Fuck.” “Ha!” Jubilee struggled again and nearly succeeded in making him drop her. Remy smiled suddenly. He swept Jubilee into a two-handed hold and shoved her against the counter, her feet a good six inches from the floor and his body holding her in place, reminding them both of the previous night’s activities. “If I let go, you not runnin’ eh?” Jubilee’s eyes were round. “Fine. I’ll stay.” True to his word, Remy let her down, but partly from caution and partly from desire, remained close enough to brush against her. “I not answer you,” he finally said,” because I not have an answer.” “It was s simple question—why’d you run off all day?” “An’ I not have an answer!” Remy’s eyes were narrowed in annoyance. His glower was softened, though, when Jubilee jutted her chin stubbornly and crossed her arms over her chest. “You cute like dat, chere…” “And you’re changing the subject!” Remy sighed. Come clean, homme… “D’accord, Jubilation. Remy be embarrassed. Las’ night…” “Was fantastic,” she murmured, coloring slightly. He felt his heart race a little and almost forgot his embarrassment. “But it was too fast, chere. I wanted to make our first time….special, oui?” “It was special…” Jubilee tipped her chin up to face him, “Anytime with you would be special.” “Mon chou…” Remy shook his head slightly, “Remy be a lil’ bit embarrassed dat I not be…a gentleman, eh?” “Remy,” Jubilee was whispering then, looping her arms around his neck, “that’s okay. I don’t mind.” “Non, ch it’ it’s not okay. Dis ol’ Cajun has more self control den dat. For cryin’ out loud, p’tite! We was in de hallway!” “Remy, you’re forgetting something important. I was there, too. I could have said no, I could have insisted we go to my room…but I didn’t. I wanted you then and I want you now. I’m not some blushing virgin who needs roses and wine and romance to have sex.” Remy sighed again, sounding sad. “Chere, Remy wants to give you that…I want you to feel romanced, I want you to feel…” he cast about for a brief moment, Jubilee’s proximity making his facility for words stick. “I want you to feel cherished.” “Oh.” Jubilee let her arms drop and felt red-hot with embarrassment. “Wow. I feel…Oh.” “Exactly… “ Remy chewed on his lower lip momentarily and gazed into Jubilee’s eyes. “Chere, I want to make love wit you, not jus’ have sex…” “Mmmm.” Jubilee leaned against him, pressing her forehead to his chest, inhaling deeply of his scent. “I want the same…but Remy, we don’t have to have a big seduction scene every time…” “I know, p’tite, mais I want to make it special every time…” Jubilee wound her arms around his waist and Remy reciprocated, letting his hands trace idly up and down her spine as they just stood, the sound of Todd and Rogue’s murmured conversation from the rec room drifting in over the sound of the crickets in the evening twilight outside. Finally, she said, “So…want to make it special right now?” “Remy be tinkin’ you never ask…” “That Remy boy looked terribly upset…”Astrid sipped her cooling tea in the solarium. Remy and Jubilee had stormed past, words and hands flying in heated discussion not five minutes before, startling the trio as they relaxed against the backdrop of purpling dusk. “Remy’s very…emotional,” Kitty offered. She shrugged at Kurt’s snort. “What? He is! He’s just good at hiding it. I mean,”: she shifted, wincing as her shoulder sent a pain signal to her brain, “just look at how he looks at her! Makes me all hot and bothered…” Astrid grinned as Kurt looked startled. “Katzchen! Remy?” “Please, Kurt! She’s only human!” “Et tu, Mama?”[6] Kurt sighed and slumped in his chair. “Kurti, we’re teasing you!” Astrid nudged his leg with her foot. “Kitty only has eyes for you!” It was Kitty’s turn to slump. She ducked down in her chair and suddenly found her teacup very interesting. Kurt’s eyes on her in hot regard made her flush as if they had not already been lovers. Don’t you dare feel guilty, Kitty Pryde! It’s natural, it’s good, and damn it, it’s Kurt! Loving him is never going to be wrong neither is wanting him! The Professor is on the trail of Magneto, he says Ruth is going to be fine, and I have no reason not to trust him… Chancing a look at her boyfriend, Kitty found his eyes luminous and fixed on her face. “Um…hi?” “Hello,” he murmured throatily, all the while aware of his mother’s presence. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Mama, Kitty, would you like to take a walk in the garden?” Kitty murmured ascent but Astrid demurred. “Nein, I think I’m going to go work on that sweater I’m knitting for your father. He goes through those like tissue paper!” “My father is hard on clothes,” Kurt explained. “He won’t change to practice for the shows.” “He just goes in whatever he had on that day,” Astrid took up the story. “He says it saves on costumes.” Kitty quirked a brow. “That’s a very Kurt-like statement.” Astrid laughed and Kurt mock-glowered. “You two go for the walk. I’m going to the study and knitting. Come tell me goodnight when you’re done?” Knoddnodded, the realization that he would be alone with Kitty making him slightly dizzy. “Ja, of course Mama! We won’t be long!” Kitty murmured, “What about the German lessons?” Kurt colored beneath his fur. “Ah, we might be a little longer than anticipated…” Astrid, already on her feet, narrowed her eyes assessingly. “Hmmm….Just be careful. Don’t take to the language too enthusiastically,” she said, leaving no doubt as to the fact she knew what they were about. “Mama!” “We’re not….Oh, hell!” Astrid waved her hand dismissingly. “I know nothing. I don’t want to know anything…I’m going to knit.” She hurried from the room with one fond glance at her son. “Well,” Kitty said after a moment. “That was awkward as balls.” Kurt snorted. “You’re telling me.” She’s just right there…scoot an inch or two forward and you can touch her… Kurt’s eyes devoured Kitty, making her feel exposed and cloaked at once, making her be the one to close the distance, to slide from the divan she sat on to the small loveseat Kurt sat on in one easy movement. “Schatz…” “Kurt,” she responded, her lips close to his ear. “I missed you.” Understatement… Kurt opened his mouth to say something but found himself being soundly kissed. For a few minutes, nothing existed other than Kitty, a feeling so wonderful that Kurt wanted to cry with it. “Kurt,” she finally murmured, “I want you.” Shaking badly, he pulled away. “Katzchen, not until your birthday!” “Please?” She moved closer and pressed her breasts against his arm. “I’m okay to do this…besides, it’s life affirming,” she offered brightly. Kurt chuckled shakily. “Please…think of how good it will be if we wait…” “Think of how good it would be now…” Her voice was throaty and sent spikes of need to Kurt’s groin. “Liebes…I want to. God, how I want to…But I think…” He gasped in surprise as she closed her teeth over the point of his ear. “Gott in Himmel!” Kitty laved the skin with the tip of her tongue, knowing how sensitive his ears were. “If you don’t want to make love, can I at least please you?” “W….was?” Kurt had no blood left in his brain. “I want to be with you every way possible. I was afraid I’d never see you again and now I can’t get enough of you…” Kitty shifted carefully and straddled his lap. “Kitty!” Kurt’s hands clamped over her hips but he found that he could not move her. He just plain did not want to. “We can’t….” “We won’t,” she assured him. “Just relax…you need to relax…” She kissed him then, her breasts brushing his chest temptingly. One of her hands found his tail and brought it up to her lips, transferring her kiss from his mouth to the spaded tip. “Erk,” he muttered, unable to form more than one syllable, even then not a syllable of any true meaning. “Shhhh…” she soothed. “Just let me…” Kitty nuzzled his neck, licking and biting the whole while she was fiddling with something out of Kurt’s line of sight. “Shit,” she whispered. “Hold on a sec.” With a small indrawn breath, Kitty passed in and out of phase quickly and fished inside her top. “Taa daa!” She waved her bra over her head briefly and smiled at Kurt’s startled expression. “It is a useful mutation after all…” “Mmmm.” More, please… Kitty seemed to hear his unvoiced request and leaned in for another kiss, taking his tail back into her hands, stroking it and caressing the sensitive tip, making him moan into her mouth. Unbidden, his hips pressed his arousal to her c mak making Kitty return the moan. His hands tried to work under her shirt but she pulled away, shaking her head. “No…let me…” Kurt’s hands dropped to his sides as Kitty bit her lower lip, suddenly shy. She brought his tail back to her lips and licked the end shyly. Kurt gasped aloud and closed his eyes, the sensation very nearly the as as other sensitive areas of his body. He felt cloth against his flesh and opened his eyes to be confronted with Kitty’s exposed breasts. She dragged the wet tip of his tail between her breasts and arched closer to him, pressing her damp core, hot even through her jeans and his pants, against his throbbing erection. Kurt growled as she circled one erect nipple with the point of his tail, clutching at her thighs to hold her in place, breasts close to his mouth. Kitty shivered, Kurt’s exhalations brushing her nipples and sending darts of lust to every nerve ending in her body. Kitty ground against him and he immediately decided to ignore her orders to “let her…” He clamped his mouth over her full breast and nipped at the flesh with small, firm bites, laving the skin between each nibble. She cried out softly and tightened her grip on his tail, rocking into his touch. Kurt sighed happily and switched to her other breast, leaving one nipple red and wet from his ministrations. Kitty repeated her earlier actions with his tail and he closed his eyes at the feeling. “Kurt, do you want me to…um…you know…down?” Kurt paused mid-suckle, opening one eye while never breaking contact with her breast. She looked askance at him, her free hand driftingn ton to the obvious bulge in his pants. “No,” he murmured around her breast, “If you did that, I don’t think I’d be able to stop there…” Kitty sighed. “I want to do something for you.” Kurt had a wicked idea then. He moved, pulling her to his chest before moving so that she was on her back beneath him. Quickly, he slid his tail beneath the waistband of her pants and whispered, “You want to do something for me? Moan…” [1] No idea if this grows in upstate New York. Smells fanfuckingtastic and is quite lovely…But I’m too lazy to go to my herbal and look up where it grows so lets pretend it’s supposed to be there…Maybe Storm grew it in her greenhouse or something… [2] no pun intended… [3] Some Yankees I know say this a lot---down here it’s Geezly Crow…Both a derivation on “Jesus Christ!” but more polite… [4] Actually, Honey pot is kind of…sexual. Sometimes it refers to a certain portion of a woman’s anatomy…ahem…ya know…Not exactly conversational use (“And if you turn to page 187, there is a diagram of the uterus and the honey pot”) but it’s used from time to time. Strip club near here is called that…Okay, enough rambling…back to the story! [5] Eddie Izzard moment. Talking about the President of Burundi and coffee…have to hear it. Funny as hell, really. Love it. [6] I’m stealing again—from Julius Ceasar: “Et tu, Brute?” (And you, Brutus?) Not correct Latin for speaking to one’s mother, but still… |
|||||||
|