Postcards From The Edge

“Hello, s” My” Mystique answered in her best husky voice.

Logan abandoned the rest of his beer, stood up and stalked out of the bar. He’d sniffed the air coulcouldn’t detect any sign of Sabretooth or even Toad, so apparently Mystique was alone. Logan wasn’t surprised when Mystique followed him out to the parking lot.

“Getting impaled at the Statue of Liberty didn’t give you the hint we ain’t friends?” he asked as he climbed onto his bike.

“I was hoping you’d impale me with a more interesting body part,” Mystique replied bluntly.

L let let out a ‘humpf’, “Guess subtlety ain’t your middle name.”

“You don’t exactly strike me as the type thotheothers with the whole ‘wining and dining’ routine, so cut the crap.”

“What do you want, Mystique?”

“I thought I made that obvious, but if you need it spelled out…I want to fuck your brains out. Is that clear enough for you?”

“What the hell makes you think I’d even consider slumming with you?”

“Because I can be anyone you want,” Mystique answered as she morphed into Jean.

Mystique was puzzled by Logan’s complete lack of interest at the sight of the redhead, she was sure that the good doctor was his type. She decided to try a different approach and changed into the form of the other woman from that night at the Statue - Storm.

Again, no indication of even the slightest interest.

{Surely he can’t want…}

Mystique transformed into the one she knew as Rogue and noted with great interest the immediate response from the Wolverine. His eyes sparkled and one corner of his mouth turned up in the faintest of smiles. Mystique had stumbled onto his preference and the information fascinated and delighted her.

“Get on,” Logan gestured with a nod of his head.

Mystique slid onto the bike behind Logan and wrapped her arms around his waist. One hand began caressing his stomach, while the other hand floated over the front of his jeans and discovered his very obvious erection. If she had to be the little brunette in order to experience this fine specimen of a man that worked for her, she had no pride. Years of fulfilling fantasies for both men and women had taken care of that particular issue.

They arrived at Logan’s motel and he hauled Mystique off the bike and practically dragged her into his room. He was clearly horny as hell and Mystique looked forward to a nice hard *ride*. They were barely in the room when Mystique dropped to her knees and reached for the zipper on his faded jeans.

“You wanna do me a favor and spit out your gum first,” Logan requested.
’ve ’ve always been a ‘swallower’,” Mystique replied as she swallowed the gum.

No sooner had he been released from the confines of the tight denim than she had him in her mouth sucking greedily. Logan tangled his fingers in the dark silky hair and thrust into the wet heat of her mouth. He looked down and it was like a fantasy come to life. Except it wasn’t, and even though she looked like Marie, the scent he managed to catch through the lust-induced fog reminded him that she was just a pale imitation. He didn’t want substitute Marie, he wanted the real thing – even if it meant waiting, but most of all for their first time together he wanted Marie under him as he made love to her, not on her knees in front of him like some bar whore. Logan pressed his fingers firmly into the side of Mystique’s head and gave her a firm push off of him.

“Get out,” he snarled as he zipped up his jeans.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“Get out. You can leave the easy way through the open door or the hard way through the closed window, don’t matter to me.”

“Come on, Wolvie, I know you want me,” Mystique said as she hiked the dress up far enough to reveal that, like he’d guessed, she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Logan’s jaw twitched as he tried to focus on the fact that this wasn’t really Marie offering herself to him. He was so tempted to throw rationality out of the window instead of the shapeshifter. The Wolverine didn’t want to resist the temptation and Logan found that he was bargaining with himself. {It’d only be once, and Marie would never know – where’s the harm?} The Wolverine rationalized. {I’d know.} Logan answered. The internal battle raged on for several moments before the victor was declared and Logan opened the door and roughly shoved Mystique out.

Logan sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his s ths through his hair. He hadn’t come when he’d shoved Mystique off of him and his hard-on was beginning to hurt. He’d made the right decision he reasoned with himself. He couldn’t be with Marie if he’d already *been* with her. He reached for the phone and decided to place a call despite the late hour.

A sleepy voice answered after just a couple of rings.

“Sorry to wake you. I just needed to hear your voice,” Logan said apologetically.

“Logan?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me,” he replied before realizing the endearment had slipped out.

{Baby. Did he just call me baby? I sure like that better than ‘kid’.}

“Are you okay?” Marie asked, tamping down the temptation to ask him about the ‘baby’ comment.

“I am now,” Logan told her – even though hearing her voice was actually making him harder, if that was possible.

“I wish you were here.”

“So do I. You have no idea how much.”

“Tell me how much,” Marie requested.

“I wanna be with you so bad, Marie. I ache for you,” Logan confessed.

“Sounds like you need a little ‘relief’.”

Marie caught on fast.

“What are you wearing?” he asked.

“I’m in bed, so nothing,” Marie informed him.

Logan knew that Marie had been given his room, which meant she was in his bed – naked. He let out a small growl at the thought of her scent marking his sheets and the small trace of blood still left in his brain immediately headed south to join the rest of his blood supply.

“Tell me a bedtime story,” Logan managed to get out.
rie rie obliged.

“You’ve just returned from a mission and you strip off your uniform to reveal how aroused you are. I lift the sheet and pat the space next to me and you stalk across the room, a wicked grin of anticipation on your face. You climb into the bed and I know you want to roll me under you and mate furiously, but I have other plans. I push you onto your back and straddle you. My mouth seeks yours and you part your lips so I can sink onguongue into your mouth. My tongueokesokes yours as we both moan. When we finally surface for air, I dust your face with feathery kisses as my fingers comb through your hair and your hands cup my breasts – your thumbs stroking my nipples to hardness. I trail a path of heated kisses down your throat and onto your collarbone, then further down onto the pectoral muscles of your gorgeous chest as your hands explore my body. I lavish open-mouthed kisses all over your chest before following the path of hair down onto your tummy to where it whirls in a circle around your navel. I continue moving down the ‘happy trail’ as you groan in contemplation of where I’m heading. But I go right past your cock and onto the top of your inner right thigh, which I pepper with delicate kisses. I then shift over to your other thigh, brushing my hair over your cock in the process.”

By this time Logan had unzipped his jeans and was stroking himself, he was noticeably panting on his end of the phone as he pleaded, “Marie, please.”

“I wrap my hand around the base of your cock and lick the dribble of pre-come on the head. I swirl my tongue around the head and then give it a light suck before trailing my mouth down the underside all the way to the base and then back up again.”

“In your mouth, Marie. Put it in your mouth,” Logan whispered hoarsely.

“I take you into my mouth,h byh by beautiful inch – alternating between licking and sucking. I feel you quivering and I know you’re close to coming.”

“So close, baby so close,” Logan moaned as he imagined the hand on his cock was her hot, wet mouth.

“I give your balls a light squeeze and you erupt down my throat,” Marie said as Logan let out a low guttural growl and spilled himself into his hand.

Regaining his composure, Logan said, “Oh God, thank you baby, I needed that so badly.”

“You’re welcome – anytime. I’m going back to sleep now. Goodnight, sugar,” Marie replied and then she was gone.

Logan headed for the shower to clean himself up, while Marie went back to sleep lulled by wonderful visions of Logan tenderly making love to her.


Their phone calls became a nightly ritual – an erotic variation on the bedtime story scenario.

“So what are you wearing?” Logan always asked to start things off.

“One of your flannel shirts that I stole out of the hamper,” Marie replied.

Usually she told him she was naked, so this was different.

“Why would you wanna do that?” Logan asked, puzzled why she’d chose to wear one of his unwashed shirts.

“Because it smells like you and helps me fantasize when I masturbate,” Marie confessed rather boldly.

Logan just about dropped the phone.

He couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around the admission that she liked to be enveloped in his scent and thought about him as she pleasured herself.

“Logan?”

“I’m here,” he finally responded.

“Who do you think about when you touch yourself?” she asked brazenly.

“Scooter,” Logan answered.

“Hey, whoever floats your boat,” Marie replied with a giggle.

“Damnit, Marie, you know who I think about.”

“Jean? ‘Ro? Oh, wait I’ve got it…Jubilee.”

“Dr. Feelmeup, the Ego Goddess or Big Bird’s motor mouth baby sister – right.”

“What about Kitty?” Marie inquired.

“Might be a little crowded, what with Scott’s hand up that particular skirt.”

“WHAT?”

“Just something I saw out in the garage as I was leaving.”

“Well, that does explain why he’d offered to be her driving instructor and Kitty always comes home reeking of Scott’s cologne. Close quarters in the car, my ass.”

“Marie, I don’t wanna discuss Scooter’s extra curricular activities, okay?”

“Sorry – where were we?”

“You – wearing one of my shirts. So does that mean you were about to…”

Marie tried to stifle an embarrassed laugh.

“Talk to me. Paint me a picture of what you’re doing,” Logan requested.

“You have to pretend you’re here in the room, sitting in a chair across from the bed watching me, okay?”

“Not gonna be a problem,” Logan informed her, already visualizing himself there.

Marie noticeably cleared her throat.

“You’re wearing a pairgraygray sweats, but your yummy chest is bare and I have on your red and black shirt, but it’s not buttoned up so a ribbon of skin is showing just wide enough to see the curve of my breasts. Are you with me so far, Logan?”

“Trust me, I’m so there.”

“I saunter over to you, step out of my panties and then straddle your lap. You go to reach for the shirt, but I swat your hands away and warn you that you can look, but you can’t touch.”

“That’s not fair,” Logan interrupted.

“My game. My rules,” Marie informed him.
ou tou take a deep breath that does all kinds of nice things to the muscles in that glorious chest of yours. I can’t resist the urge to start exploring it – first with my hands, my fingers combing through all that dark hair – and then with my mouth as I caress you with gentle kisses everywhere. {~Wow, she definitely has a thing for my chest. ~} I give a wiggle with my bottom and press down onto your erection, which causes you let to out a chest-vibrating growl that makes my lips tingle. As I kiss my way upward to take one of your earlobes into my mouth you cheat a little and ease my shirt open so that now my bare breasts are in direct contact with your chest, but I don’t mind because the sensation feels so damn good. I’m so turned on by this point, but I somehow manage to remember that you want to watch me, so I reluctantly break contact and slide off of you and head back to the bed.”
On the phone Logan was quiet except for the deep gulping breaths.

“I lay down on the bed and start to part the shirt – slowly – gradually exposing my body to your heated gaze. I run my hands over myself, beginning with my breasts – I cup them as my thumbs caress my nipples, making them peak. Then my right hand begins moving down over my stomach and I part my legs slightly as it reaches my …..”

Just then Logan let out a low, but audible growl, which caused Marie to stop.

“Keep going,” he pleaded huskily.

“I comb my fingers through the le ste strip of hair until I reach my clit. I spread my legs a little further apart to make sure you have a real good view as I begin to rub myself. It really turns me on to see that you’ve pushed your sweats down and you’re touching yourself as you watch me.”

Little did Marie know that by thiint int in their conversation, Logan had already taken things 'firmly in hand'.

“I’m rubbing myself harder as I move closer to the edge. I feel your eyes burning into me as your own hand moves faster on your cock. I’m watching you watching me and then you lick your lips and that does it for me - I scream your name as I come.”

Logan picked up the story.

“I can’t take it anymore. I strip off the sweats, stalk over to the bed, move your hand out of the way and replace it with my mouth. You taste like honey and I know I could spend hours running my tongue over you.”

“But you don’t. After you make me come again, you splay my legs apart even more and plunge into me in one hard thrust.”

“I bury my face in your neck and nip at it to mark you as mine.”

“I bring my legs up and wrap them around your hips to pull you deeper inside me.”

“I growl as you thrash beneath me, the animal in me so close to the surface.”

“I’m moaning your name as you thrust into me harder.”

By this time they were both breathing hard as they hurtled towards their mutual releases.

Marie cried out “Logan!” just as Logan practically howled “Marie!”

For the next few minutes the only sound was Logan attempting to catch his breath as he heard Marie on the other end of the phone trying to do the same.

Marie was the one able to speak first and in a husky whisper she asked, ”So when I can finally master it, will you come home and do that to me for real?”

“Absolutely,” Logan answered, his voice still ragged and his hard-on renewed.

“Wow, talk about a much better incentive than just getting a bunch of new clothes, ” Marie laughed.

“You probably shouldn’t bother buying any more new clothes until after I get home anyway, ‘cause I’ll probably just have to replace everything I rip offa you.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure the bedroom is a clothing-free zone then, won’t we?”

“Send me another picture of you in one of your new outfits,” Logan requested.

“I just got a bikini today, want me to send you a picture of me wearing that?”

“Du evu even have to ask?”

“Okay, check your e-mail in a little while,” Marie told him.

Logan reluctantly said goodbye because he wanted her to get the photo done. He found himself pacing the room and checking his e-mail every few minutes. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, but in reality had been less than thirty minutes he heard the dulcet tone of ‘You’ve got mail’ and with trembling fingers opened Marie’s message.

From: keeperofthetag@hotmail.com
To: ownerofthetag@hotmail.com
Subject: more photos

Logan,

They say a picture’s worth a thousand words – so here’s a couple of thousand. J

Love,
Marie


Logan opened the first attachment and his jus just about fell out of his head – Marie was wearing, correction – almost wearing – a tiny forest green bikini. It was hardly more than a few miniscule scraps of fabric held together with what appeared to be dental floss.

{Oh fuck me…slowly.}

He then opened the second attachment figuring it was just another pose of her wearing the same bikini and almost had a heart attack right there on the spot. This photo featured Marie completely naked except for his dog tag dang beg between her breasts. As so often with all things Marie-related, once again there wasn’t enough blood flow in his head to form a coherent thought.

When he finally regained his ability to think, he tried to calculate that if she had at least partial control how long he could touch her before ending up in the medlab. {~Touching Marie, then a brief coma – would be worth it. ~} As Logan slept that night, his nightmares of the lab and the torture he’d endured there were replaced by much more pleasant visions.

The next day Marie received a mysterious e-mail.

From: ownerofthetag@hotmail.com
To: keeperofthetag@hotmail.com
Subject: Delilah

Marie,

Tune in to the “Delilah” radio show tonight.

Love,
Logan


The “Delilah” show was a syndicated radio show featuring dedications from listeners, usually of the sentimental variety. Marie was surprised that Logan even knew about the show and couldn’t imagine why he’d tell her to listen to it. About thirty minutes into the program she had her answer.

“Tonight we have a first time caller,” Delilah’s soothing voice announced, “Go ahead, Logan.”

“Well, I wanna dedicate a song to someone who kinda snuck into my life,” Logan began.

“And into your heart, too?” Delilah interrupted.

“Yeah,” Logan replied, “My life was pretty much in the toilet when I met her, but she’s given me something I haven’t had in a long time – hope. It’s like someone up there decided to give me my very own angel. Anyway, I had to leave to go take care of some stuff and I never said anything to her before I took off, but I want her to know how much she means to me.”

“And what’s this angel’s name?” Delilah asked.

“It’s Marie,” Logan almost sighed her name.

“Okay Marie, this one’s for you from Logan.”

Then the smooth voice of Lionel Richie filled Marie’s room.


I just want to tell you all the things you are
And all the things you mean to me
When I find myself believing there’s no place to go
When I feel the loneliness inside my heart

You’re the answer to my prayer
And you’re with me everywhere
You’re my angel, miracle
You’re all I need tonight

Give me shelter from the rain
You breathe life in me again
You’re my angel, miracle
You’re all I need to know tot
t

Life is just a moment, we’re blowing in the wind
We’re tryin’ to find a friend
And only time can tell us if we win or if we lose
And who will stand beside us

When there’s darkness all around me you’re the light I see
When I need someone to ease my troubled mind

You’re the answer to my prayer
And you’re with me everywhere
You’re my angel, miracle
You’re all I need tonight

Give me shelter from the rain
You breathe life in me again
You’re my angel, miracle
You’re all I need to know, oh, tonight

Oh You’re my angel
Uh-huh
All I need tonight
You’re my angel

By the end of the song tears blurred Marie’s vision – this was big, this was very big.