Red Riding Hood

Disclaimer: The X-Men and all things Marvel are not owned in any way by me. I do not receive any financial benefits from this bit of fiction. I'm here only for amusement. Hope you are as well.

Red hair billowed in the breeze. Whipping about, light playing with the long tresses, making her hair seem alive, like fire. All the fire resided within. Love, Passion, a spirit so strong that not even death could hold her.

Jean Grey closed her eyes and lifted her face toward the sky, the sun warming her. The breeze blowing off the lake cooled her. Contradictions. Young, old. Hot, cold. Life, death. She knew them all. Lived them all. Died. Lived again. Clones, possessed spirits, cosmic entities, and now, a husband. Life as it should be. There was always something. Could a spirit so strong, so bright ever be content? Safe? Jean sighed, running her hand through her fiery mane. Life was never easy.

He watched, waited. Sizing her up. Spying. Stalking. Nostrils flared as her scent wafted to him. Peaches. Honey. Food. It always came down to food. Food for the body, the emotions, for survival. Would she prove the rule or the exception? Would she be able to sustain him? Fill him?

The forest surrounding the mansion was a favourite place for Jean. You could get lost with your thoughts under the blanket of leaves. The smell of the plant and animal life could make you forget your cares and worries for awhile. The canopy of trees protecting you from the hot summer sun or whatever else you might need protection from.

Jean came to a clearing by a beach area and smiled. It was the favourite picnic spot for the X-men. Her eyes sparkled at the memories of visiting this spot with her friends on a number of occasions, first with the original team, and then with its many variations. This was the spot where she and Scott first made love.

The moon was full that night. A light breeze danced through the trees. An owl hooted. Crickets chirped. Jean only saw Scott, only heard Scott. His touch was so light, barely touching her skin. So uncertain of what to do, Jean took the initiative. Grasping his hand, she kissed his fingers. Wide eyes stared behind ruby quartz glasses. His glasses, like funky sunglasses, sparkled in the moonlight. Jean brought Scott=s hand to her chest, filling his hand with softness. Scott closed his eyes savouring the sensation. Jean savoured the touch also as she leaned forward and kissed him, her tongue running across his lips. Jean was the first to remove her top. She was the first to remove her skirt. Scott watched, so eager he could barely move. In only a bra and panties Jean had to unbuckle his belt before Scott moved. Quickly, he tore off his shirt and pushed his jeans down around his ankles. He lost his balance as his underwear joined his pants around his ankles causing him to topple over. Jean used her telekinesis to halt his fall.

Jean almost laughed at his antics, but his emotions were so clear. So raw. He was so excited and so scared. It was going to be great. What if I don't do it right? Jean felt the same way. With her telepathy she reached out and touched Scott's mind. He jumped, not expecting another voice in his head. When he realized it was Jean he panicked. Jean realized that Scott was anxious and nervous and was afraid Jean would sense his emotions and think him a fool. Psylinking with Scott, Jean showed her boyfriend that he had nothing to worry about.

The soothing voice in his head calmed the young man down. Knowing the girl he loved most in the world felt the same way as he did helped ease his nerves. He was able to focus on the beautiful woman in his arms. Leaning over, Scott pulled Jean to him and with a kiss they fell back onto the blanket.

Trembling hands fumbled with the clasp on the lace brassiere. With a little help from a telekinetic pull, the garment was stripped off. The team leader held his hand out, reaching for the soft swell not daring to move lest the woman before him vanish into the night. He was uncertain on what to do. What will make her happy? Will she like my touch? What if she doesn't? The answer to his questions came when Jean pushed herself into Scott's hand. Deep in her chest a groan rumbled. Another, louder moan escaped her lips as the young man squeezed her tit. When Scott lowered his mouth to the pink nipple, Jean gasped, not expecting this assertiveness. Her hands grabbed a handful of hair and drove her lover deeper into her bosom. A rough tongue encircled her tiny bud and sucked tenderly. Closing her eyes, Jean sighed again. He swiftly shifted to her other breast, laying on it what the other had received.

As the brown haired X-man played with, kneaded, and suckled her tits, Jean managed to strip her panties off with a little help with her powers. She felt Scott tense when he felt satiny pubic hair caress his thigh. He broke away from her chest and looked down to where their bodies touched . The red triangle of downy fur was a few shades dr thr than the locks that fell to her back but still had the same fiery sheen about it. The red head leaned forwand and buried her face into the young man=s neck, laying licks and kisses along his collar bone. Her hands on his back tickled his spine as she ran her fingernails up and down the strong contours. Scott hardly noticed. He was mesmerized by the promise of treasure below the dark curls between her shapely legs.

Jean fell back onto the yellow and blue blanket and pulled Scott along with her in frustration. "Scott, please..." she begged. "Make love to me."

A startled look crossed his face as his eyes shot up to look at the woman he loved. The sparkle in her eyes reflected his own desire to unite with her. Their kiss was gentle, their lips barely touching. Instinctively, Scott positioned his body and with the help of Jean=s hand moved into her delicate body.

Scott groaned as Jean's hot lips swallowed him. He lost control and with a needy cry, drove himself into her. The cry of pain chilled Scott's blood and he froze in place. Slowly he raised his head to look at the woman beneath him. "Jean?" he asked anxiously.

A tear escaped her blue eye as she opened them to look at her lover. She tried to smile but she only managed a slight grimace. "It's okay Scott," she replied in a strained whisper. "I'm fine."

"You're lying Jean," Scott exclaimed. "Did I hurt you? Oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. Jean, please. Forgive me."

Scott began to disengage from the girl, but she wrapped her lerounround his torso to keep in place. "Don't you go anywhere, mister," she breathed. The pain was subsiding, leaving in its place a fullness that was utterly divine. It felt as if her whole life had been missing a piece of herself, and finally, today, right now she had found what was missing. It filled her whole being with peace. Better still, it felt absolutely wonderful.

Jean smiled at the memory. It was a tender moment between two people very much in love. What that moment lacked in technical skill more than made up for it with raw passion.

She slipped her sandles off and waded into the cool water. Her skirt, the colour of the afternoon sky, clung to her legs as a gust of warm wind blew by. Reaching up to her neck, Jean unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. The water trickled down her chest as she splashed some water over her neck. pinkpink nipples came to attention as the cold water washed over the soft flesh and Jean smiled. Feelinging,ing, Jean glanced around with her eyes and her mind. No one was around. blushing slightly in spite of herself, the red head unbuttoned her blouse all the way. The water felt so nice against her skin as she splashed more over her body. Soaking herself, Jean took a large breath as the cold water washed over her and down her chest, sliding over her breasts, down her flat b and and cascading between her slightly spread legs. Her bra and panties, soaked, became almost translucent, barely more than light gauze over her body. The telepath caressed her body, smoothing the water droplets off her creamy form. She regarded her body. It had matured so much since that night in the woods with Scott. For one thing her breasts had developed into two gorgeous peaks, with soft pink areolas and nipples that stood out like wild berries that cried out to be devoured. She squeezed the mounds and sighed at the touch.

An image of Scott formed in her mind, him standing before her. The ghost reached out and with the touch of the wind stroked her breasts. He leaned forward and unfastened her brassiere and pulled it off. His lips on her body sent a shiver racing down her spine and she arched her back. His soft lips covered a taut nipple and encircled the hard nub with a warm tongue. Sucking gently, the phantom grazed his teeth over her and Jean groaned.
Her long fingers slid downwards and slipped into her soaked panties. She teased herself, playing and pulling on the folds of her sex. Overcome with the need for release, Jean eased a finger into her cunt. Jean closed her eyes as she moved her finger in and out, stoking herself. Her breathing quickened and she gasped for breath. A second finger joined the first in its sexual exploration. With practiced experience, Jean found her center and, with deliberate , ca, came.

She splashed some more water over her body, washing away the last lingering arousal, leaving herself with a satisfied and relaxed body. On still wobbly legs she stepped onto dry land and buttoned her blouse again. She ran her hands through her auburn curls and let a sly smile escape her lips.

Several metres away, another figure smiled a toothy grin. Sharp teeth glinted in the sun. A small growl rumbled in a thick chest. It seemed like Jean was trying to wash away her scent. She might as well have been trying to wash away her skin. It was impossible. Looking at the woman wading in the water, so content, so relaxed, the shadowy voyeur stared hungrily as Jean played in the cool water. An itch began in the loins of the watcher and he instinctively rubbed himself. So beautiful. A dollop of saliva slowly slid down his chin. He lost himself in the sight and smell of Jean, and with his hand stroking his manhood his concentration waned. A loud crack! of a twig jerked him out of his reverie. He quickly ducked down into the bushes.

Jean swung around when she heard a snap of a twig. Someone was out there in the woods. When a psyscan revealed nothing, Jean lifted herself out of the water with a telekinetic pull and floated to the shore. Her telepathy was still telling her that no one was there, but years as an X-man told her not to believe what her powers were telling her. Sometimes powers were not enough. Years of experience screamed for caution.

Reaching out, Jean felt for the minds of her teammates. Most were in the mansion, relaxing as soldiers did when they could. Ororo tended her garden in the attic, her elemental powers quenching the thirst of the greenery. Remy, Bobby, and Piotr were in the parlour engaged in a heated game of poker. Jean saw the look of satisfaction on the face of the one time thief as he played his hand and took in the chips. Hank was in his lab, again. Kurt and Kitty played in the Danger Room, the scene of one of Errol Flynn=s movies running in the background. Jean quickly left the two alone as they fell into an embrace. Jean couldn=t help but smile at her two friends. They tried to hide their feelings for one another, but it was so obvious. Rogue was away. She had gone into Manhattan for the day. Marrow was also gone. To where, Jean couldn=t say. The young girl seemed to disappear quite a bit, still not feeling totally comfortable as an X-man yet. Scott was in the boathouse trying to be Mister Fix-it. A leaky roof had developed and he was doing his best. It was a losing battle.

That left...

"Wolverine?" Jean called out. There was no answer. The stocky Canadian had always been good at keeping his presence secret when he wanted to. Still, he had never spied on her before. At least not that Jean was aware of. Which could mean...

"Please Logan," she exclaimed. "If you're out there, come out and talk to me."

A rustling in the trees caught the telepath=s attention. Her eyes went wide as she heard a feral growl. Birds flew from the trees as a hungry howl rumbled the forest. Before she knew what she was doing, Jean was dashing away. Heartbeats racing in her ears made detecting any pursuit impossible. Uncontrollable fear blocked out any reason. The fact that she had faced the likes of Magneto, or Apocalypse, or Krakoa , the Living Island didn=t register as she headed for the boathouse with all her strength. Branches andves ves smacked against her face and arms bringing stinging welts to her creamy skin. A twig caught her foot and she stumbled, rolling in the green grass. Experience kicked in and she was on her feet instantly.

Running. Screaming. The hunt begins.

He jumped to his feet and took off after the fleeing mutant. His howl filled the air chasing smaller animals away. The animal he wanted was already a hundred metres ahead, but that was only a hop, skip and a jump for the predator. A small drop of saliva fell from his mouth. He snarled. She was fast. She might make it. Dredging up another burst of speed, the ravenous hunter closed on his quarry.

Almost to the boathouse, Jean let a smile of victory, with a healthy dose of relief, catch her lips. Her hero would be there. Comfort from whatever troubled her. Strong shoulders to lean on when her strength ebbed. A warm embrace for those moments when nothing else mattered.

As she neared the pier, a shadow lunged from a cluster of bushes. Jean fell back. Her momentum carried her towards the monster. She flopped on the ground her feet sliding out from under her, her hands scrapping the wood. Finally gaining purchase on the wet wood, Jean scrambled to her feet and out of blind terror, bolted along the jetty. Her way was finally blocked by the water of the lake as the pier came to an end. There was no boat tied to the and and no escape.

Jean whirled around to face her opponent. No one was there. The sun shone down and glinted off the windows of the boathouse. A hot breeze blew across the water and Jean trembled as her sweat evaporated. Scott was nowhere to be seen. Her hero was gone.

Behind her, the water began to churn, to bubble over. Jean slowly turned to look. Her eyes went wide as a shadow began to surface and before the flame haired woman could react, broke through the water and emerged to claim his quarry.

"Wolverine!" Jean cried as the stocky mutant grabbed her around the waist and stole a rough kiss from her shaking lips.

"Darlin'," Logan replied. "How's it goin'?"

Shocked speechless, Jean stared at one of her oldest friends in surprise. Never had she been so relieved to see the hairy mutant, nor never so angry.

"You bastard!" Jean yelled. "You've been following me all day. Watching me. Spying on me!"

"Yup," he replied in a voice full of pride. "Wasn't easy either. Had ta keep my thoughts to their most primal. Never easy doin' that and not losin' control."

"You fucking scared me! I thought I was being attacked by Mr. Sinister or somebody. Jesus Christ, Logan. What were you thinking?"

"Gittin' up real close to a skittish doe, so I can reach out and touch her," the Canadian answered with a grin. He stepped towards her and lightly touched her cheek. The touch was feather light. So soft Jean almost didn't realize he had done it.

The look in the man=s eyes caught the woman by surprise. The need was so powerful. "Sometimes I forget..." she started. Her words trailed off into the wind.

Wolverine looked at her and smiled sheepishly. His gaze wandered into the forest. Neither moved lost in their thoughts. The sun began to set, the sky a haze of blue, orange and gold. A breeze lifted off the water and Jean shivered. Wolverine moved closer, his body warming hers by its proximity. Crickets could be heard in the grass. A frog croaked from its lily pad in the water. Jean raised her face into the sky letting the wind blow through her tussled, fiery hair.

Wolverine inhaled the sweet fragrance of Jean's perfume. Not bottled, this perfume was hers alone. Apple pie. Warm, out of the oven, apple pie. The tastiest dessert in the world. It was the kind of treat that you could never get enough of. You could eat a thousand and never get sick of it. Jean was Logan's pie. Every time he looked at her, the need for her to smile was overpowering. He needed her approval. He longed for her embrace. Summers was a lucky man. The leader of the X-man was there first. Jean was in love with Cyclops, not Wolverine. The attraction she had for the ex-secret agent was the fantasy of a school girl. The bad boys always appealed to the good girls. They may experiment with the ruffians, but the ladies always ended up with the nice guys. Wolverine was definitely not a nice guy. That didn't make the fantasy any less true for the occasional short, hairy berserker nutball, though.

With a firm hand, Wolverine reached out and pulled Jean's mouth down to his own. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and raped her mouth. Instinctively, Jean tried to pull away, but the hold was too strong. Slowly, Wolverine snaked a hand around her waist and gently held her to him. She could feel his muscled chest against hers. His tongue probed deeper and lost in the warm sensations, Jean let go her inhibitions and surrendered to the older man. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as her teammate took her on a tour that she had not been on in a long time. It was a forbidden tour, one that jeopardized everything she held dear, but she was loathed to let go. She needed this as much as Logan, maybe more so. The thrill of doing something wrong lifted her spirits and let her fly free, soaring into the sky reborn. Another phoenix lived.

Wolverine pushed her back against a pillar and slapped her ass. She gasped into his mouth at the unexpected assault but didn't resist. His hand slapped her again, this time staying on the soft flesh. He squeezed and pinched her cheeks and slowly pulled her skirt up around her waist. He wormed his hand into her panties and stroked her tender flesh. Jean growled, and nipped at his tongue.

He drew back surprised at her reaction. The desire in her eyes made his blood boil. "Damn, Red," he drawled. "You're one sexy dame."

Jean couldn't help but smile at the sexist compliment. It was just like Logan to take a simple statement and mix up so many different meanings into it. She pulled him back into her embrace and their tongues met again. His fingers stroked her pussy and became wet with Jean's lubrication. She gasped as a thick finger found her hole and thrust inside. She pushed her hips into his hand and his finger plunged deeper. As his thumb rubbed her clit she fucked his finger, grinding against the strong digit. When he inserted another finger into her body, Jean cried with pleasure. She bucked wildly.
Wolverine ran his lips over her jaw and moved to her throat. He could hear the blood pumping in her veins. Her heartbeat thumped wildly against his chest. An owl hooted in the distance and the night was still except for the sounds of Jean as she fucked the Canadian's hand.

Moving down her throat, Wolverine used his teeth to tear open her blouse and sucked an erect nipple into his mouth. His hot tongue swirled around the taut bud and gently bit the sensitive flesh. Jean cried out, her scream of pleasure echoing through the woods scattering birds from their nests. She rocked against Wolverine's hand as she held him to her chest, her orgasm sending her juices dripping down his fingers. Her pent up sexual frustration she had been feeling of late finally exploded into the ecstasy she felt at that moment. With a sudden movement, the red haired woman yanked the intense man into a heated embrace.

"Jean?"

Frozen by the call, the two mutants clung to each other. Their arms the only protection from the world around them, if they let go they might fall victim to the colossal tide of humanity.

Realizing the call came from her husband, Jean pushed Wolverine away frantically. A telekinetic nudge sent him reeling off the pier and into the water. Jean quickly straightened her clothes and looked around. Her link with Scott always kept them together in mind if not in body, but thankfully, Jean was able to mask her thoughts from the man she was married to. She definitely didn't want the leader of the outlaw team to know what she had been up to today.

Scott appeared at the end of the pier and Jean quickly walked to him. She hugged him desperately. He didn't know and she wanted to keep it that way. It wasn't his fault that her mind was somewhere else these days. He tried his best.

"I'm glad to see you Jean," he said, his eyes twinkling behind his ruby tinted glasses. "Being so busy with the roof, we haven't seen each other all day."

Jean looked towards the pier with her mind and saw Wolverine climb onto dry land several metres away. He rose to his feet and glanced her way. She was about to tell him she was sorry when she caught a stray thought from the burly man. "That was close. Good thing Jeannie has quick reflexes." Wolverine closed his eyes and smiled at the memory of Jean's touch. "Can't wait for round two."

Scott was speaking. "...do today?"

"Pardon?"

"I said, 'what did you do today?'"

She looked back at the spot where her teammate had been standing but found only emptiness. Shifting her gaze back to her husband she replied, "getting lost in the woods."

"Visiting Grandma, eh Red Riding Hood?"

A sad little smile crept over her face. She looked out to the forest again and with a far away echo to her words, replied "more like meeting the Big Bad Wolf."