BY : Blu
Category: X-men Comics > Threesomes/Moresomes
Dragon prints: 3353
Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men comics, or any of the characters from it. I make no money from from the writing of this story.


980 words

Characters copyright and property of Marvel Comics Group. Story and plot copyright 2002 Blu Fiction and property of Atomic Fantasy – all rights reserved. Please contact the author for archive permission and feedback.


Scraping fingernails over his back, digging in, getting skin under them, tasting salt mixed with a little metallic oxidization on her tongue tip. It felt good to be doing this again. She arched upwards, pushing her spine into the bed and let out another moan. He was quiet but determined, his breathing the only indication of his pleasure – but it was enough. It had been so long, so very long. In and out, in and out – his breath on her neck like a puff of warm steam off a hot iron, and the scent of his cotton oxford, unbuttoned and hanging loose near her nose. Occasionally a jingle of his belt as it hung around his ankles off the bed would remind her of the silence they worked in, but each of his movements brought her back to bliss.

And then HIS fingers touched her head – cooled her hot forehead and wiped the sheen from her temples, pulling back strands of damp hair. She pushed her head back on the pillow and looked up at him. A blue devil with tightly pointed ears and a forked tail. Even in this light looking distinctly German, if not a little nazi-esque. She smiled passively to herself. This would be something different. Fun, though. She had always wondered what the lithe elfin man would be like as a lover – albeit secretly. Other women had told her that his acrobatics extended well beyond practical ends. She was catching scents of him, too, now that he was standing over her. A smooth, dark smell, distinctly masculine and laced with spice and menthol. Her tongue went up to touch him.

She stiffened as her red-eyed lover in rough and brazen undressed fashion pushed in further so he could lean up. Even as she put her arms around Kurt and embraced him from beneath, she felt Remy strain forward and heard the noises of light kissing.


He parted from Gambit’s insistence and pulled the girl up by her shoulders, carefully and firmly. He ran each of his hands down her back, over her smooth shoulders and tracing her spine, whispering into her ear in his native language. His teeth pressed to her neck and pulled around, tousling her hair around his chin and face. On the other side he could see from over her shoulder Gambit leaning back, pushing two fingers up inside her, his eyes closed.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he said to her when she slumped back hard against him with a tearful noise. He put one hand to her belly and the other on her left breast, kneading and squeezing, while his own torso pressed tight to her back.

He saw Gambit lean forward, then, and put his mouth on her right breast. He felt the man’s tongue brush against his own fingers in its frenzy to wet her skin.

He leaned in and pressed harder against her, pushing her towards the red eyes, pushing himself towards the red eyes. His hand left her breast and he stroked down her back once more, leaning down slightly, kissing her between the shoulder blades, feeling up inside her now, wetting his fingers and twining them with the sure hands of the thief.


It’s in the stars he thought. Astrologers had it right. Nicolodeans in New Orleans had never shown him this brand of love when he was a boy. He dropped off his pants, doing away with the belt after thinking about its possible uses and deciding that wasn’t the right type of thing for this night. He pulled off his shirt, feeling her lips reach his neck with vampiric speed, then feeling hot traces of them all the way down his chest, to his stomach, and there. Right there. Sweet and subtle and skilled – he’d met his match in a woman.

He could see now, over her bent form, the shadowy figure of his devil-friend. His heart raced at the apparition, and as if from behind a screen, the serpent’s tongue came out, and the night crawler bent, almost seeming to devour her. It was like that cheap imitation of the nameless Renaissance painting that had hung on the wall of the old movie house – right above the toilet – with the word ‘TRIUMPH’ written under it in faded gold letters. The image was swept away as quick as it came, though, and he put his head back, groaning out his feelings for both of them to hear.

Sex was surreal. The pheromones in the air were enough to suffocate him. He quickly rushed in and up, pulling her from his center, feeling the other man’s fingers and seeing surprise jolt through her for only a second, until she threw her head back in pleasure and pushed down her hips. He put one hand frantically around her and grabbed for the firm muscle of a furred arm.


Sweet Jesus God, she thought. Looking up out the sky lit window of the ceiling, she could see one bright silvery purple star shining up there. Shining down over them. The spot on the bed where they lay was just so, enraptured by light – or so it seemed to her. Red eyes in front of her, forked tail circling around her. Up and in, up and in – the bed was shaking and Kurt was talking in a harsh guttural German that came out sounding like something supernatural.

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