Heat of the Moment

A/N: Sorry for the long wait since the last update - academia interferes yet again. Hopefully I'll be able to have this story finished by the end of summer at the latest. Thanks for your patience, and please R&R!

Chapter 8: Things You Wanted for Yourself

After the harrowing battle of Alcatraz, all of the X-Men were given the following week off for both physical and emotional recuperation. Storm even granted leave, using her relatively-new authority as Headmistress, to those members of the team who were also students, giving Shadowcat, Iceman, and Colossus freedom from their studies for the same amount of time. The teens used their time off to reflect and ponder their first major mission; additionally, Bobby had sustained some minor burns that needed healing.

As the week turned into the weekend and Saturday’s dawn broke, Bobby awoke from a dream in which he relived his tryst with Kitty. His eyes snapped open during her climax but before his own, preventing an unintentional mess but leaving the young man quite aroused. He quickly concluded that he needed release, as he hadn’t had one since sustaining the burns. Thus his athletic shorts and boxers were soon pulled down around his knees, his hand wrapped around his shaft. Wasting no time on a slow warm-up, he immediately began stroking at a fair clip.

Bobby had rarely spent time in consideration of the physical manifestation of his manhood, but this morning he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly about it had given Kitty so much pleasure – whether it was the (estimated) seven-inch length that literally hit the spot or the average (though he had no frame of reference) thickness that gave her a feeling of fullness inside, or whether she’d been able to tell that he was circumcised. He figured the latter would probably matter very much to her, given her upbringing.

At that point his imagination took over and placed her on her knees in front of him, her soft hand in place of his. She looked up at him with a saucy smirk on her lips and a matching twinkle in her eyes. “I’m so glad it’s kosher,” she remarked just before placing him inside her mouth. Her imagined lips slid up and down in time with his real hand, eliciting a groan from the young man. His brain also supplied a memory of the sensation of Kitty’s vagina as a substitute for her mouth.

His hand sped up, as did the imaginary Kitty, whose name escaped his lips. He felt his shaft twitching and pulsing in his hand; he thought he remembered an identical incident during intercourse. Deep down, he knew it wouldn’t take much longer.

Moments later, it was all over but the cleanup. Bobby allowed himself a satisfied “Ohhhh yeahhhh…” and a good three minutes of languor before cleaning himself up and going about his day.

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Kitty padded down the hall, alert for any signs of life from the rooms nearby, ready to phase through the floor at the first indication of activity. Normally she wouldn’t have bothered with such subterfuge – there was no rule against the presence of girls in the boys’ wing of the Mansion, or vice versa – but she normally didn’t carry incriminating white devices in her sweaty hands. Besides, it was still early enough that she didn’t want to disturb anyone.

Kitty had risen earlier than usual that morning and headed straight for her bathroom, where she had stashed the home pregnancy test she’d bought earlier that week while running errands for Miss Munroe. The box had hidden in her hoodie once she left the convenience store en route to the copy shop for the latest batch of Xavier Institute brochures. The receipt for the cash transaction she’d surreptitiously placed inside the convenience store’s wall, wrapped around the steel reinforcement bar.

While she understood the basic biochemistry that made her high-end digital hormone detector function, Kitty couldn’t help but feel a bit absurd when supplying the sensor with the necessary chemical sample. At least I don’t have to prick my finger like a diabetic, she told herself with a wince. A brief skim of the directions informed her that the test needed three to five minutes before displaying a result.

Of all the methods Kitty utilized to make the time pass more quickly – chewing her lip, quieting her roiling stomach, counting the floor tiles in her bathroom, reciting the Twenty-third Psalm to herself in Hebrew – none worked. No matter how hard she willed the result to appear, the indicator remained stubbornly blank. She could swear that she felt her hair graying.

Finally, after what had to be the longest three to five minutes of her life – if not the longest three to five minutes in the whole of recorded history – the indicator displayed its clearly-worded result: NOT PREGNANT.

Placing the plastic cap over the chemical sensor, Kitty had sat slumped in relief against her cabinet for a good twenty minutes before deciding to surprise Bobby with the wonderful news. Approaching his door, she clutched the device to her chest, just as she had upon first seeing the result. Her brow furrowed slightly when she thought she heard her name muffled through the door.

Deciding against knocking, she called his name softly and asked for permission to enter. Only silence was the reply, until she heard him answer – sleepily, it seemed – with a “Yeahhh…” Kitty braced herself with a deep breath before walking through the door.

Her stride halted nearly instantly, almost as if she had run into the door without using her powers, so stunned was she by what she saw. Bobby Drake lay before her eyes on his bed, shirtless, panting, shorts down, eyes closed, hand wrapped around his still-pulsing member, stomach and chest spattered with a Pollockian pattern of semen. Kitty stood momentarily mesmerized by Bobby’s softening erection, until she realized that his oblivion to her presence wouldn’t last much longer. To avoid awkwardness, she stepped backward through the door, as insubstantially as she had walked through initially.

Never before had Kitty gone from zero to horny in under five seconds, but she could feel herself moistening rapidly, her breathing shallowing. She barely resisted the urge to slip her hand down into her panties and go at it right then and there. Instead, she dashed back to her room; once there, she hid the pregnancy test and took a cool shower.

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Kitty’s shower helped cool her desire somewhat, but Bobby’s erection stuck like a splinter in her mind’s eye, keeping her distracted and aroused all day. Any time she tried to catch up on her homework, she thought about it. During lunch and dinner, she thought about it. She most certainly thought about it when she saw Bobby outside shirtless while mowing the lawn.

In an attempt to get her mind off of Bobby Drake, she elected to join the other girls at their bi-weekly slumber party that evening. Kitty thought talking about frivolous girlie stuff for a while or nail-painting or cards or movies or whatever the girls wanted to do might keep her thoughts away from boys, one in particular. The plan worked, at first; but Kitty hadn’t accounted for the other girls’ obsession with boys.

“I just love Saturdays here!” crowed Jubilee. “Especially in warm weather, when the lawn needs mowing and the boys all pitch in… sans shirts, of course.” At this, Kitty studiously buried her nose in a Marie Claire.

Theresa laughed and shook her head. “Decided which one ye like best yet?”

“No way! It’s way too hard to choose. There’s Logan, of course; and Pete… mmmm.” Jubilee bit her lip, her eyes rolling back.

Danielle, normally quiet during Jubilee’s “drool-fests,” as she called them, chipped in: “How about that new kid, the one from Kentucky?”

“Sam Guthrie. Thank God for country boys like him,” Jubilee gushed, and Danielle nodded in agreement.

Kitty couldn’t help but snipe at her playfully. “Yeah, I bet you’d really enjoy it if he ‘plowed your field’.”

Unwilling to let that pass, Jubilee fired back, “Right, Kitty, like you weren’t staring out your window all day, panting for a nice, cold popsicle to put in your mouth.” A stunned silence descended on the girls.

“In retrospect,” Kitty replied calmly, though feeling the flush creep into her cheeks, “joining this conversation was a bad idea. I’ll just return to my regularly scheduled programming.” She resumed reading the magazine.

“Jubes, that did go a bit too far,” chided Danielle.

Jubilee snorted. “Excuse me for zinging her back. We all know she’s hot for Bobby.”

Theresa chimed in, “Aren’t we all?” The other two, Jubilee and Danielle, looked at each other for several moments before nodding concession.

Kitty chuckled. “Sorry, I guess my comment was outta line too.”

“No prob,” Jubilee shrugged. “Besides, with Rogue… gone… you’re next in line for him anyway.” Kitty flushed further.

Theresa cut Kitty off before she could refute Jubilee. “We, ah, heard a rumor – from Pete, mind ye – that ye saw Bobby naked.”

Kitty’s eyes widened, and she just knew she was incandescent by now. “Ummm… well… I mean… his uniform… the ice… ummmmm…”

Danielle’s jaw dropped. “You did see him naked!”

Jubilee scooted closer. “Spill!”

Kitty tried to laugh, but it sounded closer to a wimpy cough to her. “Alcatraz… it was kinda surreal, really. It looked like Jean, er, Phoenix was gonna rip the world a new one –“

“Ah, c’mon, quit stalling! How big was it?” When all the girls looked in surprise at Theresa, from whom the interruption came, she merely grinned sheepishly.

By this point Kitty had progressed beyond embarrassment. Recalling the incident on Alcatraz led her mind to a more recent event, one which she’d been trying to forget all day. The heat from her face had spread down to her loins, which now throbbed rather insistently. Aloud, she managed, “There really wasn’t much, um, time to take detailed notes, ladies. We were fleeing imminent dissolution, and fate decided to drop that moment of absurdity on our heads.”

Jubilee wasn’t going to let that pass, either. “But you still saw him. Like, the whole enchilada.”

Kitty nodded mock-wearily. If only you knew, she mused. “It’s mostly a blur,” she added as an afterthought.

Now satisfied, the girls’ conversation moved onward to the topic of Rogue’s mysterious disappearance, the likelihood that she took the Cure, and how long she waited to get laid after taking it. Kitty shifted where she sat, idly noting that she occupied more or less the same spot on the couch where “the event” had occurred. Her arousal spiked at the thought; her whole body quivered at the memory. With the other girls engrossed in gossip, Kitty phased through the couch and slipped away from the party.

Moments later, when she arrived in her room, Kitty locked her door – she didn’t want anyone to karmically walk in on her. Approaching her bed, she phased her pajamas right off her body into a neat pile on the floor and lay down. Clad only in her now-damp panties, the young woman let her hands roam over her exposed skin, all of which felt unbelievably warm. Finally they cupped her breasts and palmed the sensitive tips, drawing a soft whimper from the young woman’s throat.

The throbbing in her groin intensified as she kneaded, demanding attention. Kitty shimmied her panties to her knees rather than phasing them off, because she liked the feeling as they slid down her legs, especially once she raised her knees and gravity pulled the undergarments to her ankles. Furthermore, taking off her panties just like other girls made her feel more like other girls overall, which in turn made it easier for her to enjoy her ‘alone time’.

Kitty moaned aloud when her finger found the sensitive nub between her thighs. Legs parting for better access, she began stroking the nub, slowly at first but quickly accelerating. Her breathing grew more ragged as the pleasure built inside her.

Another moan, this one longer and louder, passed her lips. Kitty’s imagination supplied the image that had been haunting her all day: the naked body of Bobby Drake covered in his own cum. The imaginary Bobby ran his hands all over her body and kissed her neck and ears. Jolts of pure ecstasy climbed her spine.

Imaginary Bobby climbed atop her and entered her with one smooth thrust, and Kitty’s memory supplied the sensations. Unfortunately, her body wanted more than just a remembered feeling; it wanted – it needed – something real, something tangible, inside. Swallowing her embarrassment, Kitty slipped a finger inside herself, an action she’d never performed before while masturbating. A few thrusts synchronized with her phantom lover increased the amount of pleasure she felt, but still she felt empty. Adding a second finger seemed to alleviate the emptiness.

If the orgasm that rocked her body after less than a minute of thrusting was any indication, those two fingers were exactly what her body was craving that evening. To her surprise, though, Kitty could tell she wasn’t quite finished. My body wants more, she realized with a shock as her pussy gripped her finger. I want more. I think… I’ll indulge myself tonight. So she did.

Seven orgasms and ninety minutes later, Kitty finally exhausted herself. Sleeping naked would be added to that night’s list of firsts for her.