Galatea

GALATEA CHAPTER FIVE (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/Ndessdess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE (tm), Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta... You are soap! You know, no matter how many times I say it, I still giggle... InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, and Dracena are chocolate covered goodness for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile is a happy shiny smutmuse and gets a cookie for it. Readers/Reviewers: I don't know if this chapter will be as long as I planned, but it does have smut! Or erotica, if're're going to be nice about it, LOL. And snarfles from the platypi.

"He did what?" Storm had to set her tea down to make sure she did not spill it or worse, snort into it.
"He apologized."
"That's...not right."
Emma jabbed her croissant savagely with the end of a carrot stick. Brunch had been Storm's idea, some sort of bonding ritual to bring the older women in the Institute closer together. Betsy had begged off, however, since Warren had invited her to his apartment for the weekend and she did not want to waste a good bikini wax, as she put it. Emma decided that she disliked brunch intensely as she attacked the bread with another vegetable stick. "He apologized and said it was wrong of us to have done that. Why the Hell did he do it if he thought it was wrong?"
"Survivor's guilt1?\orm orm murmured, sipping her tea again. Before Emma could catch what she said, the weather goddess said a little more loudly, "Maybe he feelst het he took advantage of the situation. There was brandy involved."
"Oh, for God's sake... We weren't drunk. A snifter of brandy is not a raging kegger. And I didn't even finish mine." She amused herself by sending several cherry tomatoes rolling towards the egg salad with her telepathy before continuing, "I think he is a twit."
"Perhaps," Storm smiled faintly. "Or maybe he's scared."
"He's a twit." One of the tomatoes took a sharp left turn and headed towards Storm's plate.
Flicking the tomato across the table and onto the lanai floor, Storm pressed on. "You still did not need to throw a lamp over it."
"But the candy dish was okay?"
"It was an ugly dish." A companionable silence fell as the surviving tomatoes seemed to form ranks and advance on the croissants. "Your right flank is weak."
"Thanks." Emma added a regiment of carrot sticks to the vegetable army and sighed. "It's not like we even had actual sex."
"No, Mister President..."2
"I feel," Emma said, ignoring the smirk on Storm's face, "like a fool. I was subjugate to his desires and ignored my own..."
"Emma," Storm said thoughtfully, "have you ever thought that maybe that's a good thing?"
"Excuse me?" Her concentration broke and the attempted vegetable revolution fell to the tabletop and rolled away under plates and napkins.
Storm had an odd look on her face. "I am the last person to say that a woman is subservient to man or any of that misogynistic drivel. However, a slight...tempering of your, um, personality might be in order."
Emma leaned back and contemplated her bloody Mary. "I was called an ice queen for the longest time and did not mind a bit. I reveled in it. In fact, only Charles knew the truth..." She smiled in memory, oblivious to Storm's stunned expression. "The first time in years I express open sexual restrest in a man and he goes idiot on me."
Storm sipped the last of her tea and tried very hard not to think of Emma and the Professor in any stage of nudity or intimacy. She had a feeling she would not be able to survive the next staff meeting. "I'm not saying you need to change, per se but maybe...showing Sean your interested in a less predatory fashion would help."
"Who says I'm still interested?" Emma growled, resuming her attack on the hapless croissant, this time with a fork. Her eyes belied her uncaring words, however. They crinkled at the corners, bespeaking pain while her lips smiled in cold humor.
"Stop picturing him under that fork and listen," Storm ordered coolly. "Because I'm feeling nice today, I'll help you."
"Help me?" Emma choked. "I don't need help."
"Emma," she said sternly, "stop killing your bread and listen to me. It is not every day that I think a woman needs to change for anyone, much less a man. However, if you truly want to be with Sean, you need to hold back on your..."
"Snarkiness?" Emma suggested lightly. "Damn. I have to call my man of business in Boston in ten minutes. Look," she pushed away from the table and grabbed her bloody Mary in one movement. "We'll talk at lunch. I'll take you to town and we can go somewhere not institutional."
Storm saluted her with the bone china cup. "Find me at noon." She felt guilty, sutingting that Emma should change, but she meant to balance the scales as soon as possible. _* Logan will talk to Sean with the proper motivation... _ * She smirked to herself as she plotted the motivation.

"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Kitty responded quickly, twitching a little as Kurt looked up from the computer screen. "Emailing your folks?"
"Ja," he sighed, momentarily diverted. Gesturing to the screen with his three-fingered hand, he said petulantly, "It's taken me an hour to get this far!\KittKitty peered at the few lines on the screen and smiled crookedly. "Want me to type? I take dictation."
Kurt snickered. "That reminds me of a joke St John told me..."
"Don't even," she warned. "Scoot over and I'll type."
Kurt edged off the seat and held it out for her chivalrously, noting her wince as she sat. "Is your appendix scar bothering you?"
"Huh? Oh...um...yeah. Scar hurts." Not a total lie, she reasoned. It would be a little scar, once it he. .
Kurt cocked his head and looked at her curiously. "Is that it?"
"Yeah. Scar." She cleared her throat and poised her fingers over the keys. "So what do you want to say?"
His expression became distinctly more interested as he glanced down and got an eyeful of her cleavage. "How about we wait on the letter until later?"
Kitty blushed. "Kurt! When are you going et oet out of this hormonal phase?"
"Two days after my funeral."
"Fresh."
"Not then I won't be..."
She smacked his wandering hand lightly but smiled. "It's not even one o'clock yet..." In truth, she did not want him finding out about her little addition until later. _Unless, _ she mused, _I can convince him it's an interesting mole. Or that I never want to be naked again... _
"So?" he purred, pulling her to her feet. "Mamma's not going to check her email until tomorrow. It can wait..." He started tugging her towards the bed, but she dug her heels in literally and figuratively. "Was?"
"Kurt, we have chores to get to!"
"Since when has that stopped us?" He tugged again and frowned as she tugged back. "Katzc"
"
"I'm worried about Amara and Lance," she blurted. She really was but she had not planned on mentioning it to Kurt. Something Amara had said during their trip to town, after the disastrous discovery in the piercing parlor, had niggled the back of her mind until it worked itself to the surface. She had meant to corner Lance and grill him about it later, but needs musts wants. "She said Lance doesn't think she's pretty."
"Huh?" Kurt dropped her hand and frankly stared at her. "Kitty, I'm sure you misunderstood. And that's not your problem, if he's going to be an idiot and tell her that, mucss tss think it."
Kitty shook her head, stalling for time. It was not that she did not want to go to bed with Kurt but she just could not, not before she told him. "She did something really rash... She got her tongue pierced because he mentioned some girl with a tongue stud was hot."
Kurt shuddered. "Ears are one thing, but her tongue? That's muscle!"
"I know," Kitty responded, shuddering in kind. Witnessing the act had not been pleasant. To her credit, Amara managed not to show pain in front of her audience of awed teammates. She did, however, teach them several inventive invectives in her own native tongue.
"And besides, girls with piercings are...trashy is too harsh..." he mused.
"Excuse me?"
"Tabby had a belly button ring and no matter what about her and Wanda and Lucas, I'll always think of the old her when I see a pierced belly button."
Kitty frowned. "Well, not all pierced girls are like that."
"Nein," he agreed. "But I'm glad you're not pierced except for your adorable ears..."
She sighed and let him pull her to him, nibbling her ears and neck. She sighed again as his hands skimmed her back, grasping her rear and pulling her closer still, his arousal evident against her stomach. As his tail wrapped around her waist and the tip started working under the edge of her shirt, Kitty gasped and pulled away. "Not...yet," she improvised.
"Is something wrong?"
"Not at all," she smiled, only lying a little. She kissed him, darting her tongue out to tease his lower lip before dropping to her knees before him. Kurt started to protest as she unzipped his jeans but quickly changed his mind as she wrapped her fingers around his length. The stark contrast of pale against dark, her own flesh against his, was startling and titillating to them both as she licked her lips and glanced up at him quickly only to find him staring down at her with wide, hungry eyes. She almost hated it when he looked at her like that because it made her want to promise him anything, so long as he alwdid did it. Her tongue moved along his length, tracing a swirling pattern along the underside of his arousal. He swayed on his feet and tangled his fingers in her hair as she closed her lips over the head of his need, tasting and laving ae cue cupped him with her free hand, her fingers kneading gently as her lips and tongue drew on Ki Kitty closed her eyes and took him slowly into her waiting mouth, her pace increasing as she accommodated him. His murmurs of appreciative pleasure grew louder as she laved and nipped and drew on him, tasting the first seeping spurts of release, a precursor to the end.
Kurt tried to hold back, he really did, but when Kitty did this for him and to him, it was difficult. Making love to her, he could last forever it seemed because she was responding, she was beneath him and around him and above him, sweat-flushed and needy as he was, moaning and offering and giving as she received. But this, when she was on her knees in front of him, was still sending signals of forbidden to his Catholic backbrain and that just made things worse, so to speak. He tried and could not stop himself from releasing into her mouth so soon after the beginning. She swwed wed him as he grasped her, his teeth clenched against moans. She continued her ministrations until he started to soften out of her grasp. "Katzchen," he panted softly, trying to catch his breath as he helped her up. "I'm going to come visit you tonight..."
"Um...okay," she squeaked, counting the hours she had to tell him. "I'll leave my door open."





1 When someone survives a tragedy when someone else died, they sometimes feel depressnd gnd guilty that they did not die as well or instead. In this case, Storm is jibing at Emma about her reputation for being a man-eater.
2 Probably dated Clinton reference. He didn't have actual sex with Monica Lewinsky so to him, that wasn't cheating. Just a blowjob and something involving cigars. And it depends on what the meaning of the word is is.