She's drifting in that lovely quiet place, between sleeping and waking.
But the warm tide of Logan's arousal rises up, insistent, insatiable. She'd really rather carry on dozing, but then the nudge of Kurt's sensual mind joins and it's just too distracting.
She could close down either link, but they are so close, physically, just in the next room and psychically, through her rapport with Logan. Kurt is always an open book.
Blocking people when they're aroused, giving them and herself privacy is one of the first things she ever learned to do. But they're so close, so comfortable together, it's an invasion of their privacy, but, oh, what the hell... They're just kissing, sweet, familiar, gentle and her curiosity is piqued.
They're picking up the pace, the kissing becomes mouths moving across each other, still easy and familiar, they know each other's body so well.
The sensation of Logan's fingers, inside him (inside her) seems sudden to her, but not to Kurt. It's also different to when he does that to her, Kurt is tighter, much tighter than a woman, it needs lube to make him comfortable and crushing the purple flowers is slightly distracting. There are just as many sensitive nerve endings though and he very much enjoys the feeling, arching into it, encouraging those strong fingers to go deeper.
Logan's cock is bigger than his fingers, thicker, longer. Kurt makes soft noises in the back of his throat, the sensation is intense, beyond her own experience. It's almost too much, almost but not quite, there is a euphoria building in Kurt's mind, an ecstasy which raises him beyond any discomfort, she can't believe how intimate it is and the absolute trust they have in each other.
Of course she trusts Logan too, but her intimacy with him is simpler than this, easier. Highly enjoyable, for both of them, mentally and physically rewarding but this, this is intoxicating. No wonder he didn't want to give it up.
The power Logan has, how easy it would be to hurt his partner, how much faith Kurt must have in him but the words, even the incoherent noises form a feedback loop between them, she's always wondered how none-telepaths did it, now she understands. Logan keeps telling him how beautiful he is, how sweet he looks, how dirty. Kurt, usually the talker, is mostly beyond words, but the noises are of pleasure and stimulation, not pain or discomfort, and he finds Logan's words arousing too, biting his lip lightly, distracting himself from the intensity with the slight pain; his fangs are not a prominent as Logan's, but just as sharp.
It's easier to ride on the surge of Kurt's arousal than Logan's. Logan is just so forthright, so powerful, so lustful, it's a tsunami, Kurt, as always, is softer, gentler, rising of a wave of stimulation but without the fire. No, that's not right, there is fire but it's slow growing heat, coals glowing, building slowly rather than an inferno. Her hand drifts between her own legs.
Logan is thrusting hard now, stoking the fire, the double stimulation, being penetrated and the friction of their joined bodies on his cock is very intense and Kurt is sensitised all over, nerves singing. He's becoming hyperaware, of the weight and muscular power of his partner, of the differing sensations of fur and hair and skin, of the smell of Logan's sweat, of the intensity of his gaze, Jean is barely needing to touch herself, her arousal is in synch with the intensity of his.
His climax rolls through him in a hot wave, the banked coals exploding in sudden flame and he cries out. She does too, then she lies there, seeing stars.
But they aren't through, god, Logan is still plowing into that soft, tight, intimate warmth, his senses enflamed by the smell of Kurt's semen between them, she's really not sure how Kurt can just lie there and continue to take it; there is so much of him, so intense.
Oh, she jumps and Logan lets out a stream if profanities as the tip of the spade of that wicked, sneaky tail penetrates him and he surges into his own orgasm, almost throwing Kurt off the bed, swearing with each thrust.
"YOU! FUCKING! FILTHY! FUCKING! SNEAKY! BASTARD!"
How the hell does Kurt have the concentration? She's still humming from her own climax but Logan just drilled into him with such intensity, how could he even think to control his tail at the same time? Years of practice, she realises, Kurt treats this as another art form to be mastered.
Kurt moans, softly, sweetly, at the wave of sensation which ripples through him as his partner withdraws and he adds a sigh of pleasure and disappointment at the loss, and lowers his legs. Logan is kissing his neck, his shoulder, murmuring gentle, soothing words and he basks in the adoration, as is his right.
Their afterglow is as calm as the sex was rough, this is special to both of them, lying entangled, sated, together. Logan just loves watching him, doing this to him, loves how responsive he is, loves that warm feeling of 'I did that, I made this lovely body respond like that, I made this precious person so wanton, so aroused. So beautiful.'
She should feel dirty, a voyeur into their privacy, a month ago, she would have. How things have changed. How she has changed.
Kurt is so relaxed about it all, it astonishes her, she's always been curious about his confidence, his openness about sex, about his sexuality, about his relationships.
Logan, Rachel, Amanda, even Ororo, they all have such... intense thoughts about Kurt, she hadn't understood, now she does, now she now understands why. Athlete. All those hours in the gym. Those perfect muscles. They really are wasting his talents in the field, aren't they?
As she's disengaging her mental link, she becomes aware, ever so peripherally, of other eavesdroppers, Rachel, Emma, Betsy, Quentin even Charles. Kurt does broadcast his healthy aerobic exercises so very loudly...