John took to wandering our small island with much interest. I cannot help
but suspect that, despite the evidence that the students could protect
themselves, they were restricted in their explorations.
Of course, they were free to go all over the campus, but they were to awaken at a certain time, take classes for most of the day, and then there was 'lights out' at strictly 10:00 p.m. In addition, they had to get advance permission to leave the school.
John is a free spirit, and revels in the lax schedule we keep here. No strict rules, no power limitations and no actual policies other than those of common sense, with which he was gifted. For example, when my bedroom door is closed, he has sense enough to stay away.
Although, whether that is out of common sense or embarrassment, I cannot tell.
I politely refused Mystique's advance in the back of the limousine for fear of awkwardness the next morning and for the degradation to the act itself. I'm sure that it has to do with my age; I am from another generation than she, I do not wish to sully her in the backseat of a car. Even if it is a limousine and we had just drank imported champagne, it was still less than what she deserved.
That was then, this was now. With Pyro out and about, we were finally alone. She had kept everything the same as when I had left it for the most part. My room, she had not entered since the last time...
My room is relatively large, yet it contains only a few items of furniture. A dresser, a small desk with a chair and computer, two nightstands, and a bed.
My bed. The one in prison was like comparing a rowboat to the Titanic. My sheets were pure white satin, my pillows stuffed with goose down, my royal blue comforter warm and inviting. The one in prison was simple, almost Spartan. I respect the idea of having few possessions leading to a clearer mind, but I have never tried it myself, I prefer the finer things in life.
Haven't I earned them?
I laid back on the mattress, enjoying the softness. I closed my eyes in relaxation, and when I opened them, a face both beautiful and haunting was above me.
I smiled at her.
She smiled back.
I felt the bed shift slightly with the new weight as she sat down beside me. I rolled onto my side and propped myself up on an elbow.
"How long was I gone?" I asked. The guards had never been helpful in allowing me to gain such knowledge: the time of day, day of the week, or the month for that matter.
She looked down to me, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "About six months."
I nodded. "Thank you, Mystique. I know that you certainly had to go through some trouble to help me. If you let me, I'll spend the rest of the night repaying that debt."
A laughing twinkle flicked across her eyes. Without a word, for she was never big on talking, she leaned over.
The sensation of her lips pressed to mine is forever welcome. She leaned down and only brushed them against my own, then she pulled away, sitting up.
I followed her, sitting up on the bed so that I could face her. I slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me.
I am but a man, and my desire was quickly overcoming me. Six months was far too long a time to be in near constant isolation, the only company allowed to you being a smug telepath and a violent cell guard. I claimed her mouth in a near desperate kiss, one she eagerly returned. Her hands wrapped around my neck, holding me in place so that she could more easily pleasure my lips. I gently laid her down beneath me as we continued the lip lock.
*****
Eric likes to please me; as a lover, he is giving, gentle and ardent but he can also be strong and amazingly passionate. If any of his enemies bother to think of he and I in any sexual context, I'm sure they assume the very worst: I being a submissive love slave and little else, my only reason for continued existence being his lechery.
He probably has it worse than I; he is assumed a demanding man, rough, and no doubt a rapist. Nothing could be farther from the truth. He is the exact opposite.
As we kissed, he laid me down beneath him on the bed. He hovered over me, kissing a trail down to my neck and collarbone. He caressed me with his hands.
My face, my neck, my breasts, my stomach, my backside, my thighs. I sighed against him with every touch and it only encouraged him.
He was kissing his way back up my body, but I felt him stop.
He had paused on my abdomen, right below my breasts. I could feel his mouth running over the three scars left over from my fight with the Wolverine. He was inspecting them with his lips.
He stopped again, and looked up at me. His eyes were disbelieving and wide. He looked down at them, running his fingertips over the thin lines of raised skin. He looked back at me, he was understanding where I had received them.
"It's nothing." I said hoarsely as I pulled his lips to mine. *********^^^^^^^*********
Mystique's quiet moans of pleasure are music to my ears, does she know of the power her voice holds over me? Had we been normal humans, our relationship would have been controversial and most likely non-existent. However, the cosmic scales had tipped in my favor, delivering her to me.
There is an angel under the outer demon.
Warm and supple, comforting my longing heart and pleasuring my lonely flesh.
I love her, and I have to tell her that soon, before we are separated again.
In the night, we joined together, body and spirit.
Some time later, when our passions were sated, I held her in my arms. Running my fingers over her scars, I thought about all that has happened over the years, our failures and triumphs. The allies we had lost, and the newest we had gained.
I can see so much of myself in John, and I am glad that we set him free.
I saw it on the X-men's jet, the way he looked at me when I told him what he was.
"You are a god among insects..."
He pretended to be bored, disinterested in that way teenagers have, but I saw it. A tiny flicker of pride that someone like me saw his potential danger and power. He made the right choice.
I kissed the top of Mystique's forehead and slipped from her embrace. She was tired, so I let her sleep.
After a quick shower and change of clothes, I sought after Pyro.
Of course, they were free to go all over the campus, but they were to awaken at a certain time, take classes for most of the day, and then there was 'lights out' at strictly 10:00 p.m. In addition, they had to get advance permission to leave the school.
John is a free spirit, and revels in the lax schedule we keep here. No strict rules, no power limitations and no actual policies other than those of common sense, with which he was gifted. For example, when my bedroom door is closed, he has sense enough to stay away.
Although, whether that is out of common sense or embarrassment, I cannot tell.
I politely refused Mystique's advance in the back of the limousine for fear of awkwardness the next morning and for the degradation to the act itself. I'm sure that it has to do with my age; I am from another generation than she, I do not wish to sully her in the backseat of a car. Even if it is a limousine and we had just drank imported champagne, it was still less than what she deserved.
That was then, this was now. With Pyro out and about, we were finally alone. She had kept everything the same as when I had left it for the most part. My room, she had not entered since the last time...
My room is relatively large, yet it contains only a few items of furniture. A dresser, a small desk with a chair and computer, two nightstands, and a bed.
My bed. The one in prison was like comparing a rowboat to the Titanic. My sheets were pure white satin, my pillows stuffed with goose down, my royal blue comforter warm and inviting. The one in prison was simple, almost Spartan. I respect the idea of having few possessions leading to a clearer mind, but I have never tried it myself, I prefer the finer things in life.
Haven't I earned them?
I laid back on the mattress, enjoying the softness. I closed my eyes in relaxation, and when I opened them, a face both beautiful and haunting was above me.
I smiled at her.
She smiled back.
I felt the bed shift slightly with the new weight as she sat down beside me. I rolled onto my side and propped myself up on an elbow.
"How long was I gone?" I asked. The guards had never been helpful in allowing me to gain such knowledge: the time of day, day of the week, or the month for that matter.
She looked down to me, her eyes narrowing in concentration. "About six months."
I nodded. "Thank you, Mystique. I know that you certainly had to go through some trouble to help me. If you let me, I'll spend the rest of the night repaying that debt."
A laughing twinkle flicked across her eyes. Without a word, for she was never big on talking, she leaned over.
The sensation of her lips pressed to mine is forever welcome. She leaned down and only brushed them against my own, then she pulled away, sitting up.
I followed her, sitting up on the bed so that I could face her. I slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer to me.
I am but a man, and my desire was quickly overcoming me. Six months was far too long a time to be in near constant isolation, the only company allowed to you being a smug telepath and a violent cell guard. I claimed her mouth in a near desperate kiss, one she eagerly returned. Her hands wrapped around my neck, holding me in place so that she could more easily pleasure my lips. I gently laid her down beneath me as we continued the lip lock.
*****
Eric likes to please me; as a lover, he is giving, gentle and ardent but he can also be strong and amazingly passionate. If any of his enemies bother to think of he and I in any sexual context, I'm sure they assume the very worst: I being a submissive love slave and little else, my only reason for continued existence being his lechery.
He probably has it worse than I; he is assumed a demanding man, rough, and no doubt a rapist. Nothing could be farther from the truth. He is the exact opposite.
As we kissed, he laid me down beneath him on the bed. He hovered over me, kissing a trail down to my neck and collarbone. He caressed me with his hands.
My face, my neck, my breasts, my stomach, my backside, my thighs. I sighed against him with every touch and it only encouraged him.
He was kissing his way back up my body, but I felt him stop.
He had paused on my abdomen, right below my breasts. I could feel his mouth running over the three scars left over from my fight with the Wolverine. He was inspecting them with his lips.
He stopped again, and looked up at me. His eyes were disbelieving and wide. He looked down at them, running his fingertips over the thin lines of raised skin. He looked back at me, he was understanding where I had received them.
"It's nothing." I said hoarsely as I pulled his lips to mine. *********^^^^^^^*********
Mystique's quiet moans of pleasure are music to my ears, does she know of the power her voice holds over me? Had we been normal humans, our relationship would have been controversial and most likely non-existent. However, the cosmic scales had tipped in my favor, delivering her to me.
There is an angel under the outer demon.
Warm and supple, comforting my longing heart and pleasuring my lonely flesh.
I love her, and I have to tell her that soon, before we are separated again.
In the night, we joined together, body and spirit.
Some time later, when our passions were sated, I held her in my arms. Running my fingers over her scars, I thought about all that has happened over the years, our failures and triumphs. The allies we had lost, and the newest we had gained.
I can see so much of myself in John, and I am glad that we set him free.
I saw it on the X-men's jet, the way he looked at me when I told him what he was.
"You are a god among insects..."
He pretended to be bored, disinterested in that way teenagers have, but I saw it. A tiny flicker of pride that someone like me saw his potential danger and power. He made the right choice.
I kissed the top of Mystique's forehead and slipped from her embrace. She was tired, so I let her sleep.
After a quick shower and change of clothes, I sought after Pyro.