Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: Soft R
Summary: Logan loves Ororo's leather costume.
Warnings: Het, Established Pairing
Word Count: 1,354
Date Written: 8 September, 2011
Challenge: For the DiteysBlessings LJ comm's RoLo Fashionista game
Disclaimer: Logan/Wolverine, Ororo "Storm" Munroe, all other characters mentioned within, and the X-Men are & TM Marvel comics and Disney, neither of which are the author, and are used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Logan was every bit as much of a guy as the next guy for soft silks and satins, but though he enjoyed the feel of his women clothed in such garb, he had always preferred leather. He missed his beloved Ororo's leather costume, but he had never told her so for fear that she'd cut her hair again if she donned those old clothes. At the time, after all, she'd felt that her hair style fit her as much as the uniform.
Logan had never been much of one to pay attention to hair. He could have taken it or left it before Ororo, but until he'd held her in his arms for the first time and gotten his first taste of her natural silk, hair had not mattered to him in the least. Ororo was the one who had taught him what a delight it could be, and now he loved nothing better than to bury himself in his true love's gloriously long and purely white hair.
He had never felt anything more enthralling than her silken strands, nor had anything ever smelled sweeter to even his heightened senses. Her wondrous hair always smelled like the earth after a fresh Spring rain and newly budding roses. It felt as soft and satiny as the petals of those roses and tasted . . . Oh, Gods, it tasted wonderful! Just the mere thought of it alone was enough to make him hard as he rode back toward the mansion and the woman he knew would be waiting for him.
Yet, then again, the thought of her in leather also did the same task to him. The hard, black leather of her previous costume had molded perfectly to her voluptuous curves, and though he had been unable to actually touch her flesh through most of her costume at the time, he had felt its outline so strongly that he might as well have been touching her bared skin. He had loved watching her fight in that costume, the rise and falls of the vest around her heaving, full breasts playing delightful tricks upon his mind. During that time, it had taken almost every bit of his self control not to risk her away to the nearest bedroom after every fight.
He'd often toyed with the idea of asking her to reconsider her choice in uniforms after she'd laid the leather to the side, but she had only allowed her hair to really start growing back out after she'd changed outfits. He had mentioned it once to her and had never said another word about it after she'd looked thoughtful and asked him how he'd liked her moehawk. If it was leather or hair, Logan would take his Goddess' hair over any leather costume every time for there was nothing better in all the world that he liked than to be able to bury himself in her long waves of seductive grace and passionate silk.
To this day, he still thought often of her leather uniform, but now he had a secret that helped him with his desire to see her dress in leather again. He'd accidentally found a piece of her old leather uniform during one of her previous bouts of Spring cleaning and had whisked it immediately away to his room. He normally kept it underneath his bed until he felt the need to ride, and then, especially when he didn't know how long away from her he'd be, he swept the vest out from underneath his bed and buried it into one of his saddle bags. He'd sat with it not long ago this very night, feeling its leather caressing his most sensitive of areas and dreaming of the woman he loved.
He'd been riding ever since yesterday with no exact destination in mind. It was that time of the year again, the time he pretended not to know though he knew it all too well. It was his birthday, and with his birthday, every year, came the ghosts of his past. He preferred not to sit still lest they catch up to him and demand his attention, and he'd managed to chase them away almost entirely this year between his wild bike rides, the brawls he'd purposefully picked, and the beer.
He must be growing soft, however, Logan thought, for now he was tired of being away from home. He only wanted to get back to where he belonged with the woman with whom he belonged and hold her again in his arms. Her vest was comforting and the memories of the times he'd shared with her in that uniform truly intoxicating, but still they dimmed in comparison to the marvelous woman herself. The clouds rolled away from the stars as Logan turned into the mansion's drive, and he looked up as he parked the bike in front of the school, the first smile he'd worn in days drifting over his rough lips.
"Logan." Even the sound of her voice calling his name did wonders to him. Even after all these years, she still maintained a slight accent from her native homeland, and her natural tone was smooth, elegant, and undeniably sultry. He looked up with a grin as he took his helmet off.
"'Ro," he commented, seeming surprised though they both knew he had expected nothing less, "ya waited up fer me."
She started forward from the shadows, but the stars did not yet shine upon her body. He had the strangest feeling that she was purposefully hiding from him as the moonlight glowed only upon her mouth and her softly curving lips. "Of course." Her baby blue eyes came out from hiding next, and they sparkled in the moonbeams. "It is your birthday, after all."
"How'd ya know?"
"Logan," Ororo chided softly, her look telling him that she knew he knew better than to think she did not know when his important dates were. "Besides," she added, her lips twisting into a wry grin, "I chased Creed away with a cake earlier this evening."
"Heh. Some cake, I bet."
"Indeed," Ororo agreed lightly, "but he is long gone now, and I still wait for you."
His breath caught in his throat and his heart shot through the stars, pounding a mad, hammering rhythm of sensual, heated, and passionate demand, as she stepped fully into his vision and at last allowed the starlight to sparkle upon her body. She was dressed in his favorite uniform for her, the aged, black leather still curving her body perfectly. He moaned inside the back of his throat as he immediately shot to full and burning attention. Starlight glittered on her long, white hair as Ororo walked to him, her hips swaying in her natural, beguiling rhythm.
Her eyes continued to gaze into his as she closed the distance between him and took him in her arms. "Happy birthday, Logan," she whispered against his mouth, and then she kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, letting his bike's engine die and his motorcycle stand forgotten, and she raised them both into the night sky. Her long, white hair wrapped around them, brushing over Logan's body, with the seductive fingers he loved most, and her tongue dove deep into his own silken heat, coiling around his tongue and sparking an enticing, heated duel of passion within his hot mouth.
They could feel every inch of each other through their leather clothes as their bodies pressed tightly together, and right there, in the moonlit night, amongst the stars, Ororo gave Logan his favorite birthday present ever with her long, deep, and passionate kisses, her heated licks, and her body making wild and sizzling love to his through the leather. She had known exactly what he had wanted, and as she always had and would, took great pleasure in giving her soul mate his fondest wish. When he howled to the heavens this night, her voice joined his in perfect unison, and as they had been for years and would always remain, their souls were perfectly and eternally entwined in the gloriest, most wondrous power ever, that of true love.
The End