X-Men: The Summers Drive Pt. 06

Betsy came awake as Scott and Jean swept into the room. The feeling of Emma's bound desperation—as the blonde both repressed and irresistibly fed her lust, trying the bonds and gag that held her without success—had already put Betsy in a good mood, giving her some extremely pleasant dreams. But Scott and Jean's need for each other was impossible to sleep through.

Betsy stood up, noting she was as naked as Scott had left her, enjoying the freedom, the inclusion by proxy as Scott and Jean stripped themselves. They had to be nude for the sex to be fully enjoyed. For two such cerebral persons as them, there was nothing as erotic as going to the extreme opposite, letting the world dwindle down to naked skin gleaming in the light, sweat shining brightly on thrashing bodies, the sight of firm muscles and luscious curves. Betsy was the same way.

As was Emma. Betsy could tell, seeing how the ice queen went from coolly smoldering and pulling at her bonds to twitching her hips, her thighs rubbing together as she regarded the two perfect bodies now joining her in nudity. Jean smiled at her, picking up the submissive lust Emma simply couldn't deny.

"Hello Emma. I'd say this is a side of you I'd never seen before, but let's be honest, you have hinted at it very openly..."

Scott gave her a swift, not unpleasant strike on her ass. "Don't be rude, Jean. You two are in the same boat."

His gaze swept over Betsy through the slatted closet door, seeming to include her silently with a meeting of their eyes. You three are in the same boat.

Jean looked to be considering Scott's admonishment, but she didn't appear too in favor of it. With the same panache Emma might've used in displaying her body, she slunk her arms around Scott, hanging off his muscular frame.

"You know what Scott's thinking, Emma? No, of course you don't—the only thing you're wearing is an inhibitor collar." Jean laughed sunnily. "He's thinking about how you don't suck him off. Imagine—a sweet cock like this and you don't want it in your mouth..."

Scott put his hand on the small of her back, pushing her along, easing her to the foot of the bed. "I don't want it in your mouth either," he said, and drove her with gentle firmness onto the bed, between Emma's spread-eagled legs. "Not right now..."

Jean playfully scooted down the length of Emma's body, running her lips along Emma's long alabaster legs as though it were impossible to deny their suppleness. Which, for the watching Betsy, it was. The only thing keeping her in the closet, watching instead of participating, was knowing that soon, she'd be an integral part of all their games. She wouldn't be able to not get fucked by all of them. Watching the play, seeing it as a neutral observer, was soon going to be a rare experience for her.

Jean came to Emma's groin, her red hair trickling across Emma's thigh as she came away from Emma's leg to regard her cunt instead. "I can tell what Scott sees in you," she purred sweetly, flicking her eyes back to Scott to reassure him she was on her best behavior. "And smells. I'm sure a woman as refined as you wouldn't taste of anything but the best. You'd eat yourself out, if you could. Maybe... hitch a ride on someone else's brain while they lick you?" She ran her tongue along the trembling lips of Emma's womanhood. "Bet you wish you knew what I was thinking right now. Bet you wish you knew how I liked your taste..."

"Jean," Scott chided, kneeling on the bed. "Be nice."

"Does Emma not think I'm being nice?" Jean asked rhetorically, dipping her tongue slightly inside of Emma's sex. Emma cringed, back arching—clearly enjoying it despite herself. "There. That was nice. And Emma, I'll give you a hint—you don't taste as good as Scott."

At the sight of pleasure being given and received, Betsy started touching herself. As good as it felt, it couldn't compare to the lustful cauldron inside of Emma. She was most turned on of all of them.

Scott reached over Jean to remove Emma's gag, finally allowing her blue-lipsticked mouth to contort to match her blazing eyes. "That's funny: the number of times he's been inside me, you'd think I'd taste exactly as good as Scott—"

Scott sighed. "Do I even have to say it?"

Emma looked at him lovingly. "You don't have to worry about me, Scott. You know no one could ever accuse me of being the least bit uncivil. Genteel, perhaps. Elegant. Refined, certainly. But never rude. Or inaccurate. So when I say that perhaps Jean's affection for your victual is just an unambiguous love of cock's flavor..."

Jean smirked as she rolled over onto her back, resting her head directly on Emma's crotch. "She's just begging to be punished, isn't she? But it's my turn for that..."

Scott joined Jean between Emma's legs, crawling over her, kissing her so hard that it drove her head against Emma's groin, melding his body to Jean's sumptuous physique. She moaned, feeling his hard cock nestle against her groin, her aroused juices coating it as they rubbed against one another. Scott embraced Jean, sensitive hands stroking and caressing her smooth back, tracing out the ridges of her vertebra and sending delights through her flesh as he worked his hands down to her tightly rounded buttocks. He took her ass in both hands and strongly pulled Jean to himself as he thrust into her.

They gasped together as his manhood disappeared into her pussy—then Scott gritted his teeth as the waves of pleasure from being inside her began to pound at him. Jean's eyes twitched a little and her head drifted back to lay on Emma's cunt again—already cock-drunk and ready to do whatever Scott wanted with her.

"Pathetic," Emma breathed, trying to hide how impressed she was by the way Scott had hilted Jean on the first thrust. Even she was hard-pressed to do that. "Jean, you must have really been starving for it after all this time. What's the matter? No necrophiliacs about to keep your itch scratched?"

Jean only grinned up at her. She had her long legs wrapped around Scott's waist, holding him in a vise-like grip that demanded the hard thrusts he gave her and tried to make him stay inside her cunt, but even her toned thighs couldn't hold him in.

He wrenched himself out of her, leaving her red bush dripping with her own flowing juices and his growing precum, before he fucked back inside her. Then he slid back out, dragging with him more of her cream. It matted her curly pubic hair and glistened on her mound, as if her screams and moans weren't evidence enough of Jean's pleasure.

Jean wound her arms around Emma's thighs, holding herself steady with them as her body otherwise completely surrendered to Scott's needful lust. She sucked in breath, raising her tits up high to display their creamy pallor, the nipples thick and dark with arousal, erect like they were reaching out for Scott's touch.

"Yes, Scott," Jean moaned, feeling him pinch her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pull torturously on her flesh until she could feel the pain even through a;; her pleasure. "I've never been fucked like this before... I've never had it like this in all my life!"

Over and over, Scott drove himself into Jean's wet cunt. Each thrust he made slammed through Jean and reverberated through Emma as well, jiggling her overripe breasts and sending contortions through her finely angled face. Crimson appeared in both Emma's drawn cheeks. She was growing ever more aroused—turned on by being ignored even as Scott and Jean fucked on top of her!

"I'm—I'm coming—I keep coming—Oh Christ!" Jean gasped. "I don't think it's ever going to—stop!"

Scott kissed her hard, the passion of it pushing her head to the side as he sucked at her neck. She had to bite down on Emma's inner thigh to keep from screaming her lungs out. Then she felt Scott's lips against her ear and heard him whisper "Can you smell how wet Emma is?"

She could—she hadn't realized what the acrid scent was, but now it registered—Emma Frost, the White Queen, Bitch Goddess of the X-Men was getting off on being dominated by the two of them.

Jean released her biting grip on Emma's flesh and shrieked "Scott!" as her lust overpowered her, making her convulse on a new plateau of orgasmic bliss, thrashing like a madwoman as her climax utterly consumed her. Her long red hair flew against Emma's naked thighs, sticking to Emma's sweat to resemble the scarlet lines a flail would leave as rapture glazed her intelligent eyes into a limpid astonishment. She had both forgotten what it was to be Scott Summers' cockslut and been totally unprepared for all he had learned about pleasing women with Emma as his partner.

It seemed to take an eternity, but finally Jean's endless orgasms died away and her rigid body went slack, collapsing back down to Emma's soft body. Jean was amused to find Emma's groin burning hot against her cheek. Her breath came in gasps, almost synchronizing with the panting lust making a desperate woman out of Emma, and her body trembled with faint memories of how intense her orgasm had felt around Scott's thrusting pick. Emma's body shook too—not with contentment, but with need.

Scott's lecherous smile covered both women. Jean could tell he was as pleased with Emma's state of deprivation as he was with her own quivering afterglow. "Would it be safe to say this is what you came for?" he asked with flawless irony as he dragged his still-hard cock from her sex, neatly reawakening Jean with as much arousal as Emma had ever felt, all of it dancing through her freckled body once more.

"Mmm... almost." Jean had to pause as Scott's engorged cockhead finally slipped out of her, making her go cross-eyed with a sudden flood of sexual energy. "I didn't just come here to be fucked. I came here to be bred."

Scott kissed down the line of her jaw, finishing at Emma's pussy underneath her, lips sampling the frothing taste of Emma's arousal. The White Queen whimpered piteously—Jean knew it was all she could do not to beg. "To be a good leader, the team always has to come first."

"I'm not sure I can be that patient. You have so many of us to come first and I don't like to be kept waiting." Jean moaned deep in her chest as Scott kissed her lips, the passion almost overwhelming, and the taste of Emma's cunt delivering the finishing blow. Jean felt her pussy clench; wasted when his prick was outside of her. "Goddamn, Scott, I can see why Emma doesn't want to share..."

"Then you got enough of what you came for," Scott said. "Now it's my turn."

Jean's hooded eyes widened. She had to work to repress her telepathy, keep from instantly plucking from his mind what Scott wanted, but the delicious suspense was worth it. At that moment, she would've given him anything, and she smiled up at him, breathless to see what he chose. "You know nothing's too good for my wonderful husband. Just ask, darling." Then, just to spite Emma a little more, she teeped to Scott with a devilish naughtiness to her thinking. I'll show you why every X-Man wanted to fuck this pussy if you show me why I let you.

Scott smiled teasingly, circling his forefinger around one ruddy nipple. His touch was easily enough to torment its sensitive hardness—a torture Jean would love to be broken by. You're the telepath, Jean. Remember what I always dreamed of doing after I reamed out your pussy?

Jean sighed. Taking Scott's other hand, which he was using to prop himself up over her, she pulled it out from under him and dropped it down to her womanhood, where he obligingly massaged her. Remember? How could I forget? You thought you were so in control, but every time you saw me smile, you thought of shoving that big stiff dick in my mouth. It was the only thing that could get you to stop thinking of fucking my pussy... was that everything you dreamed of, by the way?

Always. And I am in control, in case you hadn't noticed.

I don't think you're in control so much as I'm out of it, Slim, my love.

"Are you two going to teep simpering sweet nothings to each other all night?" Emma demanded, flustered even more by their telepathic silence than she had been by their lovemaking. Scott and Jean shared a smile—it was obvious to both of them that the voyeur in Emma had been looking forward to enjoying their dirty talk every bit as much as they did. "It's rude," she continued. "Just so rude..."

Jean felt Scott's member brush against her thigh, seeming to pulse harder than ever with its nearness to her cunt. He came closer and the weight of his swollen balls smacked against her ass—Jean could only imagine how full they were with hot cum. Her mouth watered at the thought.

He came up over her body, his cockhead trailing over her skin, slick with her cream, until he was straddling her head—most of his body arranged over Emma, who he was face to face with. They looked into each other's eyes, Emma not needing her power to feel Scott's magnetic will working at her.

Jean was already a willing victim of it, sucking and lapping at Scott's cock with a gluttonous appreciation of her own taste. Looking down, Emma saw Scott rolling his hips, pumping himself against Jean's face until it glistened with the same sheen as her cunt, his cockhead smearing over her cheeks and mouth.

"She's hungry, Emma," Scott said, cupping Emma's face in both his hands, running his left thumb over her lips. She puckered them for it automatically, wishing the touch she felt on her mouth was that of a pulsing cockhead like Jean had. "Should I give her a nice hot load of cum to swallow?"

"Mmm-hmm," Jean mumbled happily as she opened her mouth wide and caught Scott's knob.

It went into her mouth and down, down, down her throat, contorting Jean's beautiful young face until the whole thing was lodged in her gullet, the coarse hairs of Scott's pubis grinding against Jean's impaled face. She felt the heated heft of Scott's balls as they hung against her chin.

"It must drive you crazy," Scott said, his lowered voice nearly purring, burning Emma up with its soft insolence. It was not an unpleasant feeling for her—not when it was Scott. "She's not the White Queen. She's not even a whore. She's a mouth. A set of lips. A cum dumpster. But I'm fucking her and not you. I'm fucking her mouth. You can feel it, can't you? I'm fucking her throat like I could be fucking yours."

Emma moaned, wishing it were her as Jean streaked her tongue around Scott's cockhead, while she could only lick her lips. Scott was right. With every pump Scott made into Jean's mouth, Emma could feel the pressure of Jean's red head against her sex. The roiling power. The sheer weight that impacted Jean's face so heavily.

"Please, Scott... please... she's already gotten to come, she's already your bitch. It's my turn. Take my mouth, Scott, take my throat. It's yours. You can come in it as much as you want—I'll swallow. I'll take every last drop like a good little girl... your good cum dumpster..."

Jean sucked, enticing Scott's cock deep into the tight ring of her full lips. Her tongue danced over his shaft as she sucked and slurped at his erection—when he pulled out, it was almost to flee the overwhelming pleasure. But then he was drawn right back in, fucking her sensual face once more, reigniting the urge to come. He had to fight it down harder each time.

Jean wrapped one hand around the base of Scott's prick and the other around his scrotum, massaging the weight of his balls in her palm.

You just got me back, Scott, she teeped, though the tenor of her thoughts, the salivating lust, demanded his cum more than her words ever could. Aren't you going to mark your territory?

Betsy licked her lips. She had Scott, Jean, Emma. All of them were horny as hell and she had the body to take them all on. Maybe that was a bit greedy, but her cunt had been hot and wet for what felt like hours. She was ready to fuck any of them, to switch places with any of them, whether it meant topping Emma or taking her place tied up to the bed.

But what she wanted most of all was Scott's cum, either flowing all over her face or filling her mouth or even pumping between her legs, making her the first of Scott's harem to bear his seed. After how the other two had staked their claims on him—the wife, the mistress—wouldn't it only be natural for her to be the mother of his child?

A. Let Emma have your cum

B. Give it to Jean

C. Fill Betsy up