X-men: Bast
***
Legal issues: Kia Jaeger(codename Bast) is an original character and belongs to me. All other characters and core X-men concepts are copyright Marvel, Stan Lee, and other creators. I do not own any of them, nor do I profit from them in any way.
Author Note: This story is based upon the story and setup in the comics and takes place at no particular point in them, but is instead treated as it’s own events separate from many of the large happenings in the comics. Also, I am not fully aware of every significant event that has happened in the X-men’s long history, so the information presented in this story and the information in the comics may not always 100% add up. Some characters who might even be dead as of the current X-men issues may be alive in this story.
***
Chapter 3
Storm set two plates piled high with salad and heavily loaded with tomatoes. Kia sat down across from her and took her plate from Ororo. It was Wednesday, the day after Kia’s intense Danger Room session with Betsy and the others, and the two teachers were lunching together between classes. While their students were eating in the massive cafeteria on the ground floor, they shared their meal in this small break room adjacent to the main kitchen.
Kia lightly sprinkled Italian dressing on her salad and passed the bottle to her friend. “So,” she spoke up, “How was the date last night?”
Storm smiled, her eyes slightly distant as she recounted pleasant memories. “Very nice. Hank took me to the new Korean restaurant just outside the city limits. He even made sure they had vegetarian meals. We had a wonderful night.”
“Sounds like a good time,” Kia smiled. “Did you do anything else, or just dinner?”
“After we finished eating we walked to a nearby park,” Storm explained. “He tried to hire a carriage ride, but it didn’t happen.”
“No one would stop for you, huh?” Kia asked dryly.
“For the most part. One man finally did, but by then the idea was kind of ruined, and the horses were a bit nervous around Hank. So we gave up.”
“That’s too bad,” Kia sighed. “I’m sorry you guys had to deal with that on what was otherwise a nice date.”
“It’s okay,” Storm shrugged after she finished chewing her mouthful. “It happens, we’re both certainly used to such things. Besides, it’s the thought that counts.”
Kia grinned mischievously and leaned forward. “I don’t suppose Hank put any moves on you, huh?” she asked in a conspiring voice.
Both women giggled lightly. “Unfortunately not,” Ororo sighed. “Even after dating for than five months, I think he just doesn’t have the confidence to make the first move. Something like that is a bit too bold for him.”
Kia nodded and smiled wryly. “So nothing, huh?”
“He walked me to my room and kissed me on the cheek once we got home.”
“Oh, Hank’s a risqué one, isn’t he?” Kia laughed.
Storm shook her head and gave a rueful smile. “I think at this rate I may have to take matters into my own hands.”
“Hank is just trying to be a sincere gentleman, I’m sure,” Kia replied. “He’s just a bit too gentlemanly, in this case.”
“Yes, I know,” Ororo nodded. “And Hanks ability to be a gentleman and be considerate and kind is one of the things I find attractive about him in the first place. But even still…I think it is about time we move our relationship into a deeper level. And sometimes I can be rather impatient.”
Kia giggled softly and smiled at her friend. “Do you already have plans?”
“Not really,” Storm replied. “But I’ll figure something out. If he doesn’t do some moving soon, I’ll have to give him some gentle but obvious suggestions, I think.”
“Good luck,” Kia said. “Hank’s a great guy. I’m sure he’ll come around. Just as soon as he gets the idea through that thick blue skull of his.”
Storm smiled warmly and carried her empty bowl to the room’s mini sink. “I think it’s more a matter of his head being so jammed with scientific formulas and genetic structuring that it takes awhile for him to work anything else in.”
Kia laughed and brought her own bowl to the sink. She helped Storm quickly do the dishes.
“So how goes your training, my friend?” Storm asked when they finished.
“Good,” Kia smiled. “The Professor is working with me a lot on getting a better feel for my powers and finding out what I’m capable, and also teaching me how to apply my powers in a combat situation. Betsy and Rogue are helping me out a whole lot in learning different fighting techniques and martial skills, too.”
Storm nodded and smiled. “That’s good. I think Psylocke could help you learn a lot. She knows more about hand to hand combat than almost anyone else here. I’d venture to say the only person who knows more is Logan.”
“Logan?” Kia’s brows arched in surprise. “He knows martial arts?”
“Indeed,” Storm smiled. “He knows more forms of martial arts and fighting than any of us, probably more than even he realizes. You seem surprised.”
Kia shrugged. “I guess I am. I mean, he was at a Danger Room session I went to yesterday and…well, he didn’t really seem the martial-arts type. He was a great fighter, yeah, but he was more like…like a brute, I guess, than a martial artist. Well no, not a brute. An animal.”
“Ah,” Ororo nodded. “Yes, Logan is like that sometimes. It’s a bit strange. He tends to fight in different ways depending on his mood and what kind of situation he is faced with. Sometimes he fights with more precision and technical expertise than anyone I have ever seen…and sometimes he fights as if he were a possessed demon.
“Logan has often been called a berserker,” Ororo explained. “When he is calm and in control, he is very precise and calls on his extensive training in combat and martial arts…but when he becomes emotional or enraged, he fights purely on instinct and aggression.”
“Isn’t that kind of dangerous?” Kia asked. “He seemed…I don’t know…almost reckless.”
“He can afford to be on occasion,” Storm smiled. “Part of his mutant abilities is a vastly accelerated healing factor…his body mends itself of almost any damage, often almost instantaneously. Logan can and often does absorb an amount of punishment that would normally kill someone, and shrugs it off as if it were nothing.”
“Yeah, I noticed that,” Kia nodded. “See, now why can’t I have that ability? Then I wouldn’t ever have to worry about hurting myself with all the tripping and stumbling I always do.”
“You do have a healing power, to a degree,” Ororo pointed out.
“I guess,” Kia shrugged. “But it’s not the same. Sure, I can heal myself by altering my cells…but it takes time and an effort. Automatic healing seems a lot more useful.”
Storm smiled sagely and nodded. “We all have our gifts. The more you explore your gift, the more you’ll realize it’s the right one for you.”
After lunch ended Kia headed back to her classroom and sank into her desk with a sigh. She felt slightly tired from all the training she had been doing lately, but it was an invigorating change. Kia had often been physically active, and considered herself to be in good shape. Though it had been about two years since the last time she had been in a dojo of any kind, she had maintained a reasonable amount of activity and athleticism. She had never, however, been through such rigorous and extreme demands as the X-men training regiment demanded. The sharp increase of activity her body had been subjected to in the last several months had been difficult at first, still was. Still…where she had always had a relatively slim and flat stomach, now she had the hint of femininely defined abs and a tight, firm abdomen with lean but solid muscle beneath. Her calves were tight and roundly muscled, her thighs firm and sculpted more than they’d been even at the peak of her old athleticism. She was still not in the kind of tight and toned physical condition that Rogue or Betsy were, but her fitness was obvious at a glance, and Kia was proud of the kind of progress she had been making lately.
With almost a half-hour left to kill, Kia went through a short grading session and made a pretty good dent in the enormous stack of papers and assignments before students started to filter in for the next class. She lectured briefly on their assigned reading, then let the class break into groups to converse about the nature of what they had read and to answer several semi-advanced questions related to the reading. She went from group to group, helping them to examine the text on a deeper level if they had problems seeing what was there, and even engaging in a rather enjoyable conversation with one group who seemed to be picking up the important themes better than the others. All in all, the class went well, as did the next and final class of the day.
After putting the classroom in order and locking the room till tomorrow morning, Kia went to her room and changed out of her tidy teaching clothes and into one of her favorite jeans, a pair that hugged tightly to the roundness of her hips and lush buttocks. She pulled on a light purple short sleeved V-neck top that showed off a respectable but tantalizing portion of her generous cleavage.
Kia left her room and wandered into the rec room that was most often frequented by the team. It was a large, spacious room with wooden floors and light blue walls. Wall hangings were evenly spaced around the room, and several windows let the sunlight warm the room on clear and pleasant days. A number of entertainment pursuits set up around the room. A large flat-screen TV was hung on one wall with a wide couch set in front of it flanked on one side by a loveseat and the other by two deep cushioned recliners. On the other side of the room were games of various sorts, including a pool table, air hockey, a pinball machine, and two old-fashioned arcade machines. A mini fridge with snacks and beverages was settled in one corner. The room wasn’t as heavily packed with games and entertainment devices as the several game rooms around the Manor, but it also wasn’t frequented by the students and teenagers like the game rooms were.
Several of the X-men were gathered there already. Rogue and Kurt were standing in one of the corners at opposite ends of the air hockey table. Rogue had a dark scowl on her face as Kurt scored another goal in what the score monitor showed was a rather impressive total. Kurt grinned wider as Rogue fished the puck out and dropped it back on the table. Kurt was wielding his bumper with his tail.
Betsy and Jean were sitting on the couch, half watching a home makeover program but mostly making fun of the show and distractedly discussing current events.
Jean was one of Xavier’s first X-men, and his first actual pupil, taken on before the X-men had even been formed. She was a few inches shorter than Kia and slender, with long legs and striking flame red hair that tumbled down to her waist in a thick mane of curling locks. Her eyes were a luminous emerald green and her skin was smooth and clear. Her bustline, while not as generous as Kia or Betsy’s, was nonetheless impressive, especially on her otherwise small and slender frame.
Kia glanced away from the couch. She had avoided Jean almost the entire time she had been living at the Mansion. It sometimes created a tense atmosphere. It wasn’t really that she disliked Jean, but neither of them could really be comfortable around the other. Her open dislike and animosity toward Jean’s husband made things rather awkward.
Not wanting to step into a tense situation with Jean, Kia approached the air hockey table. “Wow. I never knew you were such an air hockey enthusiast, Kurt.”
“It ain’t fair!” Rogue protested in her thick southern drawl.
Rogue was another of Kia’s close friends. She liked Rogue’s spirit, the fiery and enthusiastic approach she took toward everything, though the Southern Belle could be calm and collected when the situation called for it. She was just under Kia’s height at 5’8”, but had broader shoulders and a more powerful build. While certainly still feminine and womanly, Rogue was the most muscular and toned of all the female X-men, probably owing to her superhuman strength and the frequency of which she got directly involved in the more rigorous and physically demanding aspects of being an X-woman. Her hair was one of her most defining features, a rich chestnut brown that tumbled down to her shoulder blades in thick, almost shaggy locks. However, at her forehead hairline were thick locks of bright white hair, twisting through her hair in two wild streaks that stood out starkly. Her breasts were quite generous and amazingly perky and round, sitting high on her chest. Her hips were rounded softly and her buttocks were juicy. Her legs were one of her most impressive aspects, long and lean with firm, succulent thighs rippling just under the surface with the muscles of a true female athlete.
“Kurt’s beatin the pants off me and Ah’m tryin’ my best,” Rogue complained. “He ain’t even usin’ his hands! He’s rubbin’ it in mah face on purpose!”
“My tail needed a stretch,” Kurt replied with a wide grin.
Rogue groaned and glanced up at Kia. “You comin’ to the trainin’ session tomorrow?”
“When is it?” Kia asked.
“ ‘Bout four,” Rogue replied. She gave a dramatic cry as she desperately tried to deflect Kurt’s next shot.
“I should,” Kia replied. “I missed my session this morning because I had to meet with some students. Scott left me a note telling me absences like that aren’t acceptable. I threw it in the fireplace.”
“Ve have all been receiving such notes, Kia,” Kurt offered. “I tink Scott…he is stressed, ja? It is not zat he is singling you out.”
“I guess,” Kia grumbled.
“Ororo’s leadin’ the exercises tomorrow. You’d pro’ly like them lots more than the ones Scott does,” Rogue added.
“Yeah, probably,” Kia agreed. “Ororo and Hank’s simulations are always interesting at least.”
“I vill be zere too, ja?” Kurt smiled. “You must come, I tink!”
“Well, now I’m obligated,” Kia laughed. “I’ll be there as long as it doesn’t take me too long to get changed and all after my last class. I’ve already missed enough this week. Having Scott lecture me is bad enough. I don’t want Charles to start too.”
Kurt grinned wildly and swung his bumper with his tail, hitting the puck. It ricocheted into the table wall once, twice, a third time, and then plopped into the goal, easily slipping past Rogue’s wide blocking attempt. Rogue cursed softly and fished the puck back out.
Bobby Drake entered the room. Bobby, codenamed Iceman, was fairly average in appearance, just slightly under average height and about as tall as Kia, with dusty brown hair and brown eyes. He was lean and well muscled, but not impressively built. Bobby was, however, quite powerful in his own right. He had the ability to vastly lower his external and internal body temperature, allowing him to change his body into an icy form that was nearly as hard as stone. He could also freeze the moisture and air molecules in the air, allowing him to form things from a jagged spike of ice for hurling at an enemy, to a sweeping ice-slide to ‘surf’ upon.
He plopped onto the couch beside Psylocke, grabbed up the remote, and changed the channel to a sleazy music video. Betsy glared at Bobby for a moment, then, with a glance at Jean, punched Bobby solidly in the side of the head. Bobby, however, was quite used to the brutal nature of Betsy’s roughhousing, and cooled his body into its icy shell just a moment before Betsy struck.
“Fuck! Bobby!” Betsy cursed, shaking the ache from her hand. Bobby snickered.
“Such language, Betsy. And I thought young Drake was our resident trouble maker,” Hank admonished as he walked into the room.
Henry ‘Hank’ P. McCoy was codenamed Beast for good reason. Though possessing tremendous intelligence, a PhD in biochemistry, and knowledge in the field of genetics and mutations equal to and in some ways surpassing Xavier’s own, Hank had quite a prominent physical mutation. He was animalistic in appearance, his enormous body wide and thick and slightly ape-like. He was covered in thick, bright blue fur, and his arms hung down nearly past his knees. He had claws at the tips of his thick fingers, though he had long ago adjusted to them and learned to use them for precise and delicate tasks such as lab work and typing. He was heavily muscled and, upon first glance, struck many as a fearsome monster. That, however, could not be further from the truth. Hank was a gentle and compassionate man, given far more to intellectual pursuits and moments of wit, cleverness, and poetry than acts of violence. Eloquent, playful, and intelligent, Hank was one of the pillars of the X-men and had served the role of friend, confidant, and problem solver more often than anyone on the team could remember. He was also a highly skilled acrobat second only to Nightcrawler, his agility and grace belying his size and strength.
Hank was accompanied by Ororo. Both were very nicely dressed, Ororo in a calf length, slinky dancing dress of pale cream that complimented her light hair and dark coloring and clung to her curves. Her volumous hair was piled up on her hair and pinned in place, trailing down here and there to call attention to her long neck. Hank was wearing what was likely the closest Storm was letting him get to a suit on this date; black dress trousers and a rich green button up shirt. Both had been obviously custom made for him, and fit him well, almost giving the illusion that his body was simply largely built and not inhuman. His long sleeves had been rolled up slightly, a rare touch of casualness in Hank’s otherwise professional and gentlemanly appearance. Storm stood close to him, her arms twined about his.
“Aren’t you two looking fancy,” Bobby grinned. “Let me guess, Hank. You’ve won yet another award for outstanding achievements in the field of genetics, and you’re going to the ceremony.”
“Close,” Hank chuckled. “I fear my tango and samba are getting rusty, and Ororo has graciously offered to help me amend them.”
“Huh?” Bobby muttered.
“We’re going dancing, Bobby,” Storm explained.
“Yes. We’ll be the talk of the town,” Hank grinned, showing pointed canines. “The graceful Nubian princess in all her dance-floor prowess…and the dancing blue monkey.”
Kia laughed and smiled at Hank. “Just be sure not to step on her feet, hank. You’re what, 400 pounds now?”
“Please Kia, you’ll give me a complex,” Hank laughed. “And I’ve been dieting. I’m down to 395 pounds, thank you.”
“We’d better get going Hank,” Ororo suggested. “I want to dance for a few hours at least before we go get dinner.”
“We shall depart then,” Hank smiled.
“Have a good time,” Jean called from the couch.
“We will,” Ororo said, tugging slightly at Hank’s thick arm. “All of you enjoy a pleasant evening.”
“Be careful,” Kia waved.
“Bye you two,” Betsy said, still gripping her sore hand and shooting a glare Bobby’s way.
As Ororo and Hank stepped out the room, Scott appeared in the doorway, glancing around the room till his gaze fell on Jean.
Scott ‘Slim’ Summers was the leader of the X-men by virtue of his being Xavier’s first X-man. He was one of the tallest people on the team at 6’3” and, as his nickname suggested, had a lean build, straight up and down with long but muscled limbs. His hair was short and a dark brown. His Mutant power, the ability to project powerful beams of concussive force from his eyes, forced him to wear either a visor or glasses made of ruby quartz crystals to control the fearsome blasts. His face was thin and currently pinched slightly at the mouth.
“Jean, can I see you for a minute? In private?”
Jean hesitated a moment then nodded, rising and bidding the rest of the team goodnight. Betsy watched her go for a long moment before returning to the TV and flipping through channels distractedly.
When Kia turned back to Rogue and Nightcrawler, Rogue was staring at the floor, jaw clenched visibly. After a moment she forcefully slammed her bumper onto the table, making it move almost a foot across the floor. Kurt teleported out of the way just in time.
“Rogue? Vat did I do?” Kurt asked in concerned confusion.
“Ah just don’t wanna play any more!” Rogue snapped.
“Are you okay?” Kia asked.
Rogue started out the room, calling over her shoulder, “Ah’m goin’ outside.”
“Walking or flying?” Kia asked.
“Uh…walkin Ah guess. You wanna come?”
“Sure,” Kia nodded. “You want a coat?”
Rogue gave Kia a funny look.
“I’ll get us some sweaters,” Kia shrugged. “I’ll meet you by the stairs.”
“Vat was zat all about?” Kurt asked Psylocke as the two women exited. Betsy shrugged, seeming distracted.
“Maybe scoring fifty three points against her five didn’t set well with her,” Bobby suggested.
***
Kia and Rogue strode down one of the Mansion’s beautiful garden paths. Though too early for the plants and flowers to be in bloom this far in upstate New York, evergreens were prominent in this part of the gardens, tall trees and wide shrubs still green and thriving among their hibernating cousins. The memories of a beautiful summer lingered with the promise of lush, colorful months soon to come.
Rogue wore one of Kia’s old college sweatshirts. It was gray and baggy about the bust. Kia wore a blue sweater that fell straight at her waist. Rogue was upset, the set of her face and the way her jaw worked and slight frown at the corner of her lips a clear indication of this.
“You aren’t this upset about losing that game, are you?” Kia stated more than asked.
Rogue shrugged slightly, looking out over the gardens. “Nah. Ah guess not.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Kia asked gently.
Rogue shrugged again, a hesitant, guarded motion. She pulled her shoulders up and put her arms about herself, though the evening was hardly more than chill.
“Ah feel kinda stupid.”
Kia patted her shoulder companionably. “I won’t think you’re stupid, Rogue. We’re friends. You would probably feel better if you talk about it.”
“It’s just…Ah keep seein’ couples…it was bad enough with just Jean an’ Scott. Now Hank and Ororo got together. An’ there’ve been plenty others over the years, too. An’ it’s the same way everywhere else, not just here in the Mansion. Ah guess Ah just feel like everyone’s got someone but me.”
Rogue sighed and hung her head. “Ah’m happy for Storm and Beast, Ah really am. Hank’s a great guy an’ they make a good pair. Ah just can’t help but feel jealous though. Ah feel so…so…left out. An’ so lonely.”
Kia turned Rogue to face her, stopping and looking her in the eye. A tear ran down Rogue’s cheek. Kia squeezed her shoulders firmly. “Your feelings are perfectly understandable, Rogue. Any girl that isn’t envious of a good relationship like Ororo’s is lying to herself. I wish I had something like that, too. So does Betsy, I bet.”
“But you or Betsy could have it,” Rogue sighed. “Even if Ah did find someone to be in a relationship with, Ah can’t even touch them. Ah’m never going to find someone who Ah can be close with. It’s just damn unfair.”
“Don’t worry,” Kia said gently. “I have faith we’ll figure something out for you one day. Hank is always testing new idea’s, and the Professor is working with him. With the two of them working together, surely they’ll find something, one day.”
“Ah know, Ah know,” Rogue nodded. “Ah have good friends, and Ah’m glad you’re one of them,” Rogue said slowly. She took a deep breath and gave a strained smile. “Ah’ll be okay. Ah just need to calm down. Ah…Ah’m gonna walk for a bit longer.”
“Okay,” Kia smiled. “I’m going to head back inside. I’ve got more papers to grade. But Rogue? I’m here for you. We all are.”
“Thanks, Kia,” Rogue smiled, sincerely this time. She hugged Kia and then walked farther into the gardens as Kia returned to the Mansion.
***
Just before 2 A.M., Hank and Ororo returned from their night out. The Mansion was quiet and still, with only a handful of people still awake at this late hour. They spoke in hushed voices and Ororo giggled softly at Hank’s usual wit.
Their night had been wonderful in Storm’s opinion. They had grabbed a quick meal at a nice restaurant and then gone walking through the city streets for a short while as the sun set. A few people had stared, yes, but everyone left the two of them alone and in peace. After chatting softly as they walked and let their stomachs settle, the two Mutants made their way to the dance-club they had in mind, a nice place that held a more traditional dance-floor than the rave and party-heavy clubs and bars that were so popular. Hank proved to be a wonderful dancer, the natural agility and sense of balance that seemed so odd for his large size allowing him to move with a grace and quickness that complemented her steps quite nicely. No one seemed too bothered by Hank’s unusual appearance, though people gave them a wide range to move during the especially upbeat dance numbers. Ororo matched Hank’s sweeping steps with enthusiasm, completely oblivious to the dancers around them. Ororo loved to dance, any kind of dance, and few men were able to keep pace with her as well as Hank did.
“Well, I shall be sore in the morning,” Hank said softly as they arrived at Storm’s room. “I’ve not danced like that since Prom. And I certainly didn’t have all this fur back then making me feel as if I were being incubated. I don’t see how dogs stand it.”
“Maybe if you try panting next time you’ll manage better,” Ororo said playfully.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hank chuckled. He smiled down at her and took her hand in his. His massive blue fist was enormous around hers and could have easily crushed her slender fingers, but his touch was gentle and light. “Though I fear that may distract me from performing a proper tango.”
“We can’t have that,” Ororo smiled softly.
The pair stood motionless, watching each other. The was a strange mix of feelings between them; nervousness, uncertainty, yes, but also a depth of friendship and familiarity that stretched beyond their few months of closeness to years of relying upon one another and trusting each other with their lives.
“Well,” Beast cleared his throat at last. He smiled at her warmly and faltered for a moment. “I should let you get your rest. I enjoyed tonight very much.”
“As did I,” Storm smiled. “Thank for the wonderful dancing. I was impressed.”
Hank puffed out his great chest and smiled wider. “I look forward to repeating the experience. Perhaps you can help me to keep in better shape. I wouldn’t want to get a gut. I’m pretty sure big blue guts are out this year. It’s bad enough I already have such atrocious belly hair.”
Ororo shook her head, brushing the thick white hair from her eyes as it swished forward. “You’re cute, Hank.”
“Cute?” Hank said, mock-wounded. “I was going for roguishly handsome. But I’m always ‘cute’. It’s the fur, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Ororo winked. “You’re a teddy-bear, as always.”
“I suppose it’s better than being revolting,” Hank chuckled. He straightened and bent to somewhat awkwardly kiss Ororo’s soft hand. “Listen to me ranting on. I should go.”
Ororo hesitated a brief moment before laying her hand on top of his. “Hank, can you wait here a moment? I have something in my room I think you should see. I think it would pique your scientific curiosity.”
“Oh Lord, you just had to say the ‘s’ word, didn’t you?” Hank grinned. “But yes, my dear, I would be happy to wait.”
Ororo smiled and kissed Hank’s cheek before stepping into her room.
Hank sighed softly and leaned against the wall outside of Storm’s room. He felt so foolish around her sometimes. His wit seemed to be silly and unneeded, but he couldn’t stop talking. He was sure his nervousness was more than a little apparent, and he worried that she would tire of it.
Hank smiled to himself. She was truly a wonder. While not as mentally developed as himself(which he was sure was a good thing. He didn’t relish the thought of spending time with someone with a similar thought process to his), Ororo possessed a keen and sharp intellect that he found tantalizing. She had an air of sophistication and womanliness he found equally appealing. And for all his neuroticism, Ororo seemed to understand him. They had a common love for art and culture and learning, and she had a wild freedom that helped him to forget himself and his lab and live more in the moment.
He wished he could approach her to take their relationship to a more intimate level, but he was far too old-fashioned in that regard. While no stranger to the world of love and romance, he was too much of a gentleman to make a bold move at this point. Which, frankly, he hated. But what was he to do? He was already naturally shy when it came to these things, painfully so, and it was a struggle to overcome that shy instinct in the first place. Perhaps Logan could give him some advice? As terrible an idea s that was, Logan did have a certain way with women…
“Hank,” Ororo called from her room. “Come in and shut the door behind you, please.”
Beast distractedly did as he was told, his eyes glancing around Ororo’s room as he entered, taking in the sight of the rich African wall hangings, one on each wall. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture, but all the pieces were carved of a thick, dark brown, almost black wood with patterns and figures etched in its finish matching the wall hangings.
His gaze fell upon Storm, sitting on the edge of her bed and watching him with amusement.
Hank’s jaw fell open. “Oh my gars and starters.”
Ororo laughed merrily. “I took off the garters, Hank. Hope you don’t mind. You can keep the stars.”
She sat upon the edge of her bed, her long chocolate legs crossed at the knee. She leaned backward slightly, propped up on her hands. She wore a thin, soft green baby doll that split down the middle just below the bustline, falling to either side of her slender belly. It was bright and soft and matched well with darkness of her skin. She wore a matching lime green thong. The baby-doll was ever-so slightly lacey around the edges and lightly embroidered with gentle sweeping swirls to draw the eye.
Hank’s eye, however, was too busy being drawn to the exposed goddess before him. Her breasts were full and large and the baby-doll plunged downward to reveal the full range of her cleavage and a generous portion of the upper slopes of her bosom. Her legs were long and silky, lean and lightly muscled under the surface from such a strenuous and active life. Her belly was slender and curved inward from a narrow waist, with gently pronounced abdominal muscles. Her hips were rounded and full, and the strings of her thong rode upward upon them.
“Your mouth is hanging open, Hank,” Ororo smiled. She tossed her thick white hair, causing it to cascade down in a thick ivory fall across her shoulders. Several locks fell forward to hide her eyes tantalizingly.
“My apologies,” Hank muttered absently.
“Come here, Hank,” Ororo suggested, beckoning with a slender finger.
“Yes Ma’am,” Hank swallowed.
He went to her. Ororo reached up to wrap her arms around his massive furred shoulders. She rose to him as his arms closed around her and their lips met. Hank suppressed the urge to shudder at her cool fingertips gliding through his soft fur.
Their hands roamed along each other, caressing, stroking, squeezing, exploring. Hank’s long fingers traveled slowly down Storm’s smooth dark sides, rubbing and feeling the softness of her as her slender hands traced their way along his wide furred back. He could taste the gentle flavor of her lips, cinnamon and clovers and all things wild and natural.
Ororo pulled at him lightly, tugging him to her bed. Hank followed willingly, trying not to rush with eagerness. How he wanted her. How he had always wanted her. He absently found himself thankful that all the beds and furniture in the Mansion were so well made as his heavy weight settled on the bed and the mattress only slightly sagged. Ororo laid back, settling on her back as she pulled him forward still, one hand rising to his thick blue hair and holding his face to hers.
She was forced to spread her legs quite wide so that his body could slid between her thighs, but she had the flexibility and limberness of a gymnast and was able to open herself wide for him. Hank leaned forward, his thick, broad arms settling on either side of Storm’s curving figure, supporting his heavy weight easily.
“You have far too much in the way of clothes on, Hank,” she murmured.
“It would seem so,” Hank smiled, unable to keep a touch of shyness from his face. “I suppose would should…rectify the situation?”
“Good idea,” Storm purred smoothly. She gazed into his eyes as she lifted one hand to cup one heavy chocolate breast through her lingerie. She gave it a soft squeeze, then drew her hand away, dragging the triangle of cloth covering her breast as she went. The bare orb of her right breast stared Hank in the face, her nipple quite thick and hard and a shade darker than the rest of her skin.
Hank fumbled frantically with the buttons of his shirt, his hands shaking in excitement. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down, shifted to a slightly more analytical frame of mind. It helped his fingers remember their normal scientific precision.
Hank tossed his shirt aside and reached out to cup Ororo’s bare tit with a large hand. He gave it a soft squeeze which the woman responded to with a soft sigh and an arching of her back. Hank drew in a breath at the soft fullness of her nubile flesh. He squeezed again, gently rolling the plump orb in his palm. He found her throbbing nipple, swollen and engorged and puckered, ready for pleasure and all the stimulation his nimble fingers could provide. He took it between his thumb and forefinger, his claws pressing to it with such lightness, it was a feather’s caress. Hank was suddenly glad his exact, almost surgical precision allowed him to prevent his claws from being harmful, and for once it had nothing to do with how it affected his lab or research.
“Hank,” Ororo murmured her approval, gazing at him steadily, her eyes deep eyes swimming with desire. She pulled the covering from her other breast and reached for his free hand, pulling it to her impressive chest and placing it upon her jiggling tit flesh.
Hank lowered his face to her tits and slowly kissed the upper slopes of the canyon between them. He was partly nervous he would seem ungentlemanly if he became too bold, but Ororo’s body language told him boldness was just what she wished, and though he was sometimes a bit dense in the ways of women, he was hardly foolish enough to deny her.
His tongue swept down the dark length of cleavage before him, his soft blue fur brushing against the swell of Ororo’s jiggling orbs. She moaned softly, the roughness of his tongue combining with the softness of his fur, two very different sensations that bordered on tickling her but instead sent shivers of delight through her slender, voluptuous form. Her fingers tangled in the thick blue hair on his head, cradling his head to her breasts. She almost jumped as her nipple disappeared between his lips. She felt the sharp points of his teeth, barely even contacting her nipples, making her quiver in excitement as his tongue slid along her sensitive flesh. She could feel her juices trickling from her over-moist pussy down the crack of her ass.
Hank’s weight over her was glorious, making her feel secure and warm. His touch, his feel, the taste of his lips…all was just as she had wanted them to be. Ororo was most pleased.
“Hank…Hank…” Ororo breathed, his name becoming her mantra as her hands slid down his muscled, furred body to fumble with his belt.
Hank took one last, lingering suckle upon the bosom of the African goddess -his goddess- and sat up. His hands were no less eager than hers as he undid his belt. Ororo sat up and, apparently deciding it had fulfilled its purpose, pealed the baby doll off and tossed it to form a pile with his shirt. He almost froze at the beauty of her, but he quickly undid his belt and ended up tearing the button off his trousers in his haste. He tossed the garment onto the growing pile.
Ororo grabbed him and aggressively shoved him down onto the bed as he removed his boxers. Hank stared at her, slightly surprised but thrilled by her energy and the desire he felt pouring from her. Storm stalked up the length of the bed, crouched down like a hunting tigress, her hips swaying back and forth behind her as her breasts hung alluringly below her, swishing with her movement.
She admired his manhood for several moments. His cock, like the rest of him, was blue. The fur, however, fell away at his groin, leaving his cock hairless and smooth like anyone else’s. It was above average in length, just over seven inches long but quite thick. Too thick for Ororo to wrap her slender fingers about fully when she tried. The head was large and fit well with the girth of his shaft, and several pulsing, upraised veins crisscrossed along the length of meat.
Ororo extended her tongue and slowly dragged the dainty pink appendage along Hanks throbbing dick. He shuddered and watched with wide-eyed amazement as she took a moment to trace each individual vein standing out along the blue member’s surface with her tongue, leaving his cock streamed with saliva. Finally, Storm wrapped her soft lips, her lipstick a soft plum color, around the pulsing blue meat pole and gave a firm, moist suck. Hank nearly jumped at the unbelievable pleasure she sent jolting through his system.
Eagerly Storm sucked him, taking his cock deeper into her mouth, her full soft lips sliding down the length of Hank’s meat as she took him in. Her tongue bathed along him within her mouth, flicking, teasing, caressing, poking, prodding, coating him with her wonderfully warm saliva. Ororo could only take a little over half his length into her mouth, but she made up for it when she began to bob her head up and down the portion trapped inside, drawing it in and out and sucking hungrily at it.
Hank gave an unconscious buck of his hips as Storm’s hand came up to wrap around the base of his cock, holding it steady and jacking the light blue manhood up and down while her mouth worked tirelessly on the rest. She swirled her tongue along his head and traced the broad crown of his corona before dipping back down to take more meat between her lips.
Things were getting almost unbearable for Hank. He didn’t have the most experience in the world, but Ororo was definitely the most talented woman to ever go down on him. After several more moments of heavenly agony he gently touched her shoulder. Storm drew back with a questioning look.
“I do believe you should stop that, my dear, unless you want this to end…prematurely. If it did I do believe I’d be so embarrassed I’d turn red…well, purple, maybe.”
Ororo giggled and rose slowly, gripping the waistband of her thong and shimmying it downward.
Hank’s mouth almost fell open again as he stared at the sight she unveiled. Her pussy was perfect, plump and juicy about the mound with thick, dark petals coming together to make a neat slit. Her cunt was hairless except for a small patch of stark white pubes at the very top of her mound, a bare brushing of faint and whispy white. He could see just a peak inside her folds, the flesh pink and shining with moisture. A trickle of juices already spattered her opening and dripped along her supple black thighs.
“I do believe I shall return the favor,” Hank smiled, sitting up and reaching for her.
Ororo placed her hand on his chest and made a pushing motion. Hank sat back, puzzled. She smiled coyly at him as she slinked into his lap, straddling him.
“More than enough time for that later, Hank. For now…I want something else…you wouldn’t keep me waiting, would you?”
Hank chuckled softly, a bit of his nervousness fading as he felt the heat of her womanhood descending to his cock. Ororo smiled and rubbed her soaked folds along the length of his throbbing fat dick.
“Of course I won’t keep you waiting,” he spoke. “That would be supremely rude of me.”
Storm hissed softly as her cunt sank down the length of his shaft, swallowing him and stretching to receive his girthy meat. She felt wonderfully full and snug around him. Hank steadied her, holding her hips and staring at her. The pleasure was painted plainly on his face.
“Yes Hank, that’s so good,” she breathed as the full length of his impressive fuck pole slid up her clinging passage.
They began a slow, sensual rhythm, Ororo riding his length and raising and lowering herself while Hank supported and followed her lead. The relaxed pace didn’t last long. Soon the slow sensuality turned into desperate, rapid passion, Hank’s throbbing dick plowing into Storm’s soaked, slippery passage at an eager pace. Ororo humped Hank with all the pent up desire and passion she had, slamming her pussy onto his cock over and over, delighting in the spikes of pleasure that raced through her body at his touch and the invasive pulsing of his throbbing length of meat. Her dark chocolate folds swallowed the swollen blue shaft of his pumping cock over and over, her syrupy juices dripping out of her spread pussy lips to coat his pole. Hank thrust into her powerfully, gripping her hips and filling her eagerly, his hands sliding back to cup the round fullness of her buttocks. They were perfect, round and pert and firm, as if sculpted for the most exquisite of carvings.
“Fuck me,” Ororo chanted. “Fuck me, fuck me,” she whispered, a whole new mantra.
Hanks blood coursed thickly as he eagerly complied, gripping the thick swell of her ass and burying himself endlessly into the velvety passage of Storm’s fuckhole, pumping the sucking tunnel open over and over. The sounds of passion and sex and desires finally uncovered filled the room.
The pace and the lust, the well of so many feelings and emotions proved to be too much. Ororo lowered her face to kiss Hank deeply as her cunt spasmed and squeezed in orgasmic frenzy around Hank’s blue meat. She screamed into his mouth and writhed atop him, pressing her gyrating, jiggling body to him. He could feel the smooth muscles of her abdomen scrunching against him, her thighs squeezing around his lap as her tits wobbled against his chest.
Hank let out a quiet roar of his own as his seed exploded into Ororo’s cunt, splattering her insides and coating them thickly in creamy hot cum. Ororo spasmed with a bit more intensity as her orgasm intensified and rode outward. Hank pumped himself into her, spurt after spurt of seed flooding into Ororo, filling her, spreading into her womb and leaking slowly out of her over stuffed, well fucked hole.
They collapsed together, panting, shivering, pleasure and satisfaction and affection washing over them in alternating bursts.
“My lord,” Ororo panted, smiling at Hank as she reached up to cup his furry cheek with one hand. “You are a Beast, aren’t you?”
Hank smiled, brushing the thick white hair from her face with one thick finger. He was slowly shrinking down, but his cock stubbornly remained lodge in her womanhood’s clutching embrace. “That was astounding. I…honestly, the words desert me…with all my wide and sweeping vocabulary, all I can think to say is ‘wow’. Well, ‘wow’ and ‘fan-fucking-tastic’. But that just seems somewhat crude, though entirely appropriate.”
Ororo smiled and shut her yes, curling her head against Hank’s soft neck and pressing her body to him. “So, Dr. McCoy, do you think you would be interested in repeating that experience on a regular basis?”
Hank chuckled and squeezed her gently. “How could I possibly say no to an offer like that? I may be a dense genius, my dear, but I’m not an idiot.”
End Ch. 3
Not a whole lot to say about this chapter. No action in this one, and there won’t be a terrible lot of action in the next one, but for those action fans out there, it’s coming, never fear ;)
And I’ve always thought that Hank was an awesome character who gets handed a raw deal a lot. So dammit, it’s about frickin’ time the man got laid!
Chapter 4 coming soon, so stay tuned one and all!
Please send all questions/comments/critiques to
[email protected]