From May to December
folder
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
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Category:
X-Men - Animated Series (all) › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,963
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own "X-Men" or any of the characters therein. I am not making any money off of this story.
Back in the Situation Room
"I don't even think you're trying," Charles tells Jean fondly after the fifth and sixth orgasms leave her panting weakly, still dangling in the air. He shuts off the simulation, and waits until the Situation Room deposits her on a long table before wheeling himself over to inspect the damage.
He rubs a hand affectionately over her forehead, and then brushes away errant tears at the corner of Jean's eyes. "Good, yes?" he queries, and she nods quickly, and then he hears her moan wantonly when he removes the ball gag, absently wiping her chin as it's pulled away, dripping with her saliva. "Professor," Jean groans, and Charles smiles down at her.
"Such a good girl, Jean." He continues south, removing the nipple clamps next, first one and then the other, and then cups the girl's sore breasts gently, thumbing over her bruised nipples in a way that is both gentle and arousing. "Please," Jean balks, and, unable to resist, Charles finds himself bending so he can tongue over her tits, laving them liberally for several moments, suckling and even nipping a bit until Jean is keening and arching off of the flat surface.
"Are you still aroused?" Charles asks her, and now he's undoing the bindings around her ankles, and then moving methodically back up, in order to part her legs. The device inside of Jean's cunt is still making a soft whirring noise, and Charles gingerly pulls it out, switching it off, and chuckling when the movement brings with it a string of curses and whines from Jean. "God, fuck, Professor, p-please, it won't take long," Jean cries, and Charles' fingers slip inside of her, rubbing around her soaking wet pussy, circulating around her clit with just the slightest bit of roughness, until Jean is shoving her crotch into the air and sobbing as Charles' hand brings her off yet again. "Thank you," she gasps, and Charles nods.
The buttplug is next. "I liked it," Jean comments as Charles removes it, placing it near Jean's legs on the table. "It made me feel ... filled," she observes. He helps her into a sitting position, and then unbinds her wrists, the last piece of bondage. He watches Jean flex her wrists and raises an eyebrow. "Decent simulation," Jean finally says, and Charles grins.
"Indeed."
Jean wobbles a little when she stands, but eventually steadies herself, and then accepts the bathrobe proffered by Charles. "So much for this uniform," she jokes, and then, impulsively, bends and kisses Charles on the cheek. "Thank you," she murmurs again, and then grins. "Too bad this isn't what was going on, all those days I missed school," she muses.
Charles rolls his eyes. "Convincing Principal Darkholme that your chronic migraines were a legitimate medical condition was difficult enough," he groans, and they exit the Situation Room together, the professor locking it carefully as he goes.
He rubs a hand affectionately over her forehead, and then brushes away errant tears at the corner of Jean's eyes. "Good, yes?" he queries, and she nods quickly, and then he hears her moan wantonly when he removes the ball gag, absently wiping her chin as it's pulled away, dripping with her saliva. "Professor," Jean groans, and Charles smiles down at her.
"Such a good girl, Jean." He continues south, removing the nipple clamps next, first one and then the other, and then cups the girl's sore breasts gently, thumbing over her bruised nipples in a way that is both gentle and arousing. "Please," Jean balks, and, unable to resist, Charles finds himself bending so he can tongue over her tits, laving them liberally for several moments, suckling and even nipping a bit until Jean is keening and arching off of the flat surface.
"Are you still aroused?" Charles asks her, and now he's undoing the bindings around her ankles, and then moving methodically back up, in order to part her legs. The device inside of Jean's cunt is still making a soft whirring noise, and Charles gingerly pulls it out, switching it off, and chuckling when the movement brings with it a string of curses and whines from Jean. "God, fuck, Professor, p-please, it won't take long," Jean cries, and Charles' fingers slip inside of her, rubbing around her soaking wet pussy, circulating around her clit with just the slightest bit of roughness, until Jean is shoving her crotch into the air and sobbing as Charles' hand brings her off yet again. "Thank you," she gasps, and Charles nods.
The buttplug is next. "I liked it," Jean comments as Charles removes it, placing it near Jean's legs on the table. "It made me feel ... filled," she observes. He helps her into a sitting position, and then unbinds her wrists, the last piece of bondage. He watches Jean flex her wrists and raises an eyebrow. "Decent simulation," Jean finally says, and Charles grins.
"Indeed."
Jean wobbles a little when she stands, but eventually steadies herself, and then accepts the bathrobe proffered by Charles. "So much for this uniform," she jokes, and then, impulsively, bends and kisses Charles on the cheek. "Thank you," she murmurs again, and then grins. "Too bad this isn't what was going on, all those days I missed school," she muses.
Charles rolls his eyes. "Convincing Principal Darkholme that your chronic migraines were a legitimate medical condition was difficult enough," he groans, and they exit the Situation Room together, the professor locking it carefully as he goes.