Heatwave

Heatwave Chapter Seven (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Last one for this round! Smutted out yet? ;) InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are sparkley goodness for archiving/hosting! ProPhile will be back eventually so until then… *this space intentionally left blank * Morgan: *shimmy * Readers/Reviewers: Last chap To Tomorrow or the day after, new long fic!!! *glomp *


He knew it was a dream and he did not care. He would never admit it to Kitty, but it was one of his favorites sometimes. He had had it long before they began their relationship and he had had it since. Not often, but just enough to feel deliciously illicit. The players had changed somewhat, but it was essentially the same dream since day one. He was not foolish enough to think that sexual fantasy equated to cheating, but he would still never tell Kitty about it. He would just enjoy it when it came and trust that her own secret dreams and fantasies of a similar nature were just as exciting.

It was a Gordian knot of limbs, a complex equation of human bodies and a tail, soft gasps and heavy breathing. Kurt stretched and arched his back, moaning in pleasure as Jean took him even more deeply into her mouth. Paige writhed and cried out behind him, his tail twisting within her sex. Theresa was the only one not engaged in the touching and kissing. She knelt next to Kurt, her fingers busily delving into the folds of her own arousal. Kurt shivered as Paige cried his name softly, her body tightening around his, her release immanent. He slowly eased away from her, much to her obvious disappointment if the whimper that arose from her throat was any indication. Theresa scooted forward and held up her two wet fingers to his lips, offering him the nectar of her arousal. Kurt latched on to her fingers eagerly, his tongue lapping up every trace of moisture she had gathered.
It was his turn to feel bereft as Jean pulled away from him and rose to her knees between his thighs. Now, Kurt thought, this was really his favorite part… Sometimes it was Kitty instead of Jean, but tonight it was the older girl. She Moved to straddle him, her sex bare inches from his. He could feel the heat from her arousal so close to him that it made him ache. Paige giggled next to him, leaning across him to kiss Theresa as Jean lowered herself onto his waiting length, guiding him in steadily. Kurt groaned and shuddered as Jean took him in, her own moaning sigh loud in the Danger Room. Theresa pulled away from kissing Paige and smiled. Kurt licked his lips in anticipation—he knew well what was next. Theresa grinned and carefully positioned herself so that her sex was before Kurt’s face. She leaned forward and met Jean’s mouth hungrily, both of the girls reaching for each other’s breasts. Kurt set to work laving the pink folds of flesh, Theresa squirming against his tongue as Jean pinched and tugged her nipples. He nearly shouted in surprise when Paige’s mouth closed over the spaded tip of his tail, licking delicately at the traces of her own arousal still sticky damp there. Jean rode him harder, grinding her hips against him with each downward thrust, crying out in counterpoint to her own motions, muffled by Theresa’s kisses. Kurt gripped the Irish girl’s thighs as he licked and nibbled with increasing fervor, squeezing the freckled flesh enthsticstically. Paige was licking a little further up his tail, trailing long, slow licks down the length before nibbling a path back up, further each time. Kurt groaned, nibbling at tpot pot at the apex of Theresa’s sex. Jean gasped sharply, breaking away from her friend’s embrace to buck almost wildly against Kurt. He gasped and moaned as he felt her completion shudder through her and reverberate through his body. He redoubled his efforts on Theresa, almost too distracted by Paige’s ministrations on his tail. It was with great effort that he drew on Theresa’s clitoris, licking and nibbling and sucking for all he was worth.
Kurt gasped for breath as Theresa moved away from him. “Was?” he breathed. “Why’d you stop?”
She cocked her head and smiled. “Your turn,” she lilted.
Kurt shivered and closed his eyes. He lost track of who’s lips were on him where, of who’s hands touched what. He honestly did not care. He felt the trilling sensations course through him, silvery gold and burning hot, spiraling through his blood. His release was near, he knew, and he wanted it so badly it was almost painful to wait. All it took was the subtle brush of a silken fall of hair against his hip, the barest touch of feminine lips against the engorged head of his length. He groaned and arched, pushing into Paige’s mouth as Jean and Theresa licked what of him was not taken by the blonde.

Kurt woke gasping and aching, but smiling to himself. He glanced at the clock and slid out of bed. It was late enough that Logan was done with his patrols. Kitty’s room was just right there, he thought. He was there in a moment, his eyes adjusting to the dark in a fraction of a seconKittKitty’s bed was empty, though, and he frowned. Where else could she be, he wondered. On a whim, he teleported to the kitchen, still mostly erect from his dream, and drew up short. Amara, Jubilee, Kitty, Jean, Emma, Paige and Theresa. They all looked up at him sharply, a conversation dying as soon as he appeared, the very traces of it still hanging in the air had he eyes to see. “Um…allo…”
Jean narrowed her eyes. “Pervert.”
“Was?” He made sure he was standing behind Kitty’s chair, hiding all evidence. “I have no idea…”
Jean snorted. “Right. Pervert.”