X-Men: Changeling

She nods.

'Before I know what's happening, Kurt has ripped open my blouse, buttons scatter -- that scene in Godfather II with that guy getting shot -- and I can't even breathe his kisses are so hot and fast, but I feel through my other senses his firm hands, searching over me, caressing each bump and groove, inside my shirt, over my breasts, up my neck and through my hair, him taking off my red bandana and all I can do is hold his hands, use them as a guide back to my own sanity. Use them as a stencil while he finds and explores me and makes the shape of me into what he wants. There's darkness now in the cabin. I can barely see but for the shake of a hanging candle in the opposite corner. The waves buck him into me further, and I can feel him against my belly. So tall, much taller than we think when he stands up, and as I go to rake over his chest, his tail pins back one of my arms. And I gasp! And he's being so roguish, and then I feel him pressing into my breasts, pawing at them, lowering to nip and bite and I can't open my eyes if I could I'd see swirling fire or something, and when he finally gets into my pants I'm so wet I can't breathe.'

She swallows.

'I'm saying take me, make me yours, and he's relentless; got his long fingers in me, past my pants, I'm weak in the knees, caving inward like a virgin as he strokes me, licking at my neck, and I'm trying to kiss him back, but with every flick of his digits I go rigid, or strain the other way, and what could I do to rival this, I don't know. He makes me soak myself within minutes and I fall into him, a rag doll, plaintive moans of encouragement -- I want him so bad Kitty, I want him so bad -- I lay back on his bed, these luscious rugs of gold and purple dousing the place, our clothes scattering like leaves all over them, his gaze piercing, hypnotising. I hold on as best I can, and then when he's finishing with me down there, he enters me, and I'm gasping for air my squeals in his ear, my fingers entwined in his curls and both his hands clutching my breasts like handles on a bike or something, I can't maintain focus. With each thrust I feel this crazy vacuum down there, you know, like sucking the blood from your womb, and he's so big and pressing me down into the mattress of cushions or rugs or whatever, I feel him everywhere. His tail stroking my cheek, his tongue flickering at my lips, and then he stops --'

'Stops?!'

'He stops,' I breathe 'to suckle on me, down there, play with my clit, but it's so hard, like marble and he keeps nudging it, parting my cheeks and slipping in -- just like you said -- and I'm trying hard not to pee but it seems like it's threatening in the distance, as if it were a mirage on the desert horizon. He makes me come, and then enters me again while I shake and vibrate in the aftershocks, my bottom lip quivering, my eyes... fearful of what else he'll make happen to me, struggling to understand, you know what it is to have sex with a telepath? You think it's like a blur normally, try being psychic and seeing what the other person wants to do to you and have you do to them. Like a roundabout speeding up and you can't get off until it blows. Like chasing your tail. A circle that gets irradiated the more you fix it in your brain, and cauterises your perception until all you can feel is the burrowing down there, down in your cunt which makes you shake automatically and as his body works over mine, his limbs touching me in all the right places, and his tail -- whether he's conscious of it or not -- pitching in I finally glimpse the oblivion I've been searching for. He strains and motions up and down, the beat of his heart simpatico, the tactile feel of his fingers gripping my tits like they're his lifeline, and smothering me until all I can do is cry out and shake like a blender with the top off, spilling in all directions and letting him plug me until he empties himself in one long purge. And then afterward, I bend forward, still trembling, and clean him as he sits back, the taste of him everything I always wanted. Still with life in him, still with our energy as his gloss and my eyes glazed over in the perpetual darkness. Are you glad you asked?'

'Pirate ship huh?'

'Yup.' I grin.

'When Peter gets back. We're going in.'

'Until then?'

The glint in her eye.

'Til then Ray? Let's see if we can't quench some of that thirst you have.'