Love The One You’re With
Title: Love The One You’re With
Pairing:: Logan/Logan/Jean. Ultimateverse.
Disclaimer: All characters are property of Marvel. No harm is intended and no profit is made.
Feedback: Yes. Whining and flames: no.
Archive:Teethmarks, Eiluned. All others please ask.
It’s a good dream. A really good dream. Jean. Wearing nothing but a garter belt and black silk stockings and a pair of bastardized patent leather Mary Janes that make him feel like a schoolboy, a dog in heat and a dirty old man all at once. Those sharp heels digging into his thighs as she rides him to orgasm, whimpering his name and pinching her own nipples.
But it’s only a dream and now he’s awake, his throbbing erection poking up at him under the sheet. Alone. No one in the mansion but Chuck when he returned late last night, which threw a big fat monkey wrench in his plans for the evening. Plans which had centered mainly around getting Jeannie into his bed and showing her exactly how much he missed her. Is still missing her.
His hand creeps down his hard stomach and pushes the sheet down around his thighs, bringing him face to face with the part of his anatomy that often seems to bring him as much trouble as pleasure. Right now it’s just making him uncomfortable. His hand skates past it for the time being as he pushes his fingers into the hair around it, thick and warm and damp. His actions stir the scent of his excitement into the air, a smell he is rapidly realizing seems odd to him now without Jean’s scent in the mix. Truth be told, it makes him feel a little lonely. He was gone only three days and he can still smell her faintly in the bed, but it isn’t the same.
His hand continues its downward journey to his balls, rolls them gently between his fingers, tugs lightly on the skin of his scrotum. His forearm rests along the side of his erection, brushing against it lightly as his hand moves. His eyes slip shut and various images of Jean flicker through his head like a slideshow as he reviews his options, tries to decide what it’s going to be this morning.
~His boxer shorts, her bra.~
~Short skirt, no panties.~
~Just a towel.~
Used that one yesterday. Twice.
~Tank top, thong panties.~
~Tight red dress.~
~Cutoff shorts, bikini top.~
Aw yeah. That’s the one.
~She’s in those tiny jean shorts and that deep green swimsuit top, her short hair damp and curling against her forehead. She smells like chlorine and sunscreen and lemonade and horny Marvel Girl.~
Heh. Horny Marvel Girl. Hands down, his favorite superhero of all.
He trails his fingers lightly up the velvety underside of his erection, pausing to rub the sensitive frenulum gently before gliding back down. His fingertips skim over satiny skin, kneading the heavy weight of his furred scrotum once more before roaming back up again, teasingly. Down again. He traces the bulging veins that fan out over the silky hardness, drags his short fingernails up the entire length.
~They’re outside, by the pool. Everyone else in the mansion is gone, because this is his fantasy and anything’s possible. He’s flat on his back atop the diving board, wearing his own pair of faded cutoffs and nothing else. He’s relaxed, ankles crossed, one arm behind his head as a makeshift pillow, the other wrapped around the beer bottle that sits on his chest. His battered cowboy hat is pulled down low over his eyes, shading his face from the late afternoon sun. He’s watching Jean climb out of the pool, the water beading on the smooth skin of her back, wet denim sucking up against her round little ass as she shimmies up the ladder. His groin begins to feel heavy and warm.~
He skates one finger over the tip of his erection, spreading the slick moisture there over the tight red skin. He’s been dripping steadily since even before he woke up, and a little puddle of clear fluid has formed beneath his navel. He runs two fingers through it and then spreads the wetness over the head of his cock, pausing to collect more before he trails his fingers along the shaft, coating it as well. His fingers play lightly over slippery skin, feathering over the head in small circles.
~She walks over to the overstuffed beach bag on the deck chair, the one that’s been slowly purging its contents throughout the day as she’s dug through it again and again. He won’t get sunburned no matter how long he stays out here, but she’s not so lucky. She pulls out a bottle of sunblock and begins to apply another layer, her third or fourth of the day. She knows he’s watching her. She rubs it leisurely into the damp skin of her arms and shoulders, puts one foot at a time on the seat of the chair to smooth it up over her legs. She turns toward him when she begins to work on her stomach, eyeing him intently as her manicured hands stroke her abdomen, lazy fingers creeping toward the low-slung waistband of those little shorts. His rapidly stiffening penis is swelling just to the left of his zipper, taking up what little extra space there was in his shorts to begin with. The fact that he hasn’t bothered to button them is of little relief.~
He makes a loose fist and slides it down over his cock, feeling the head slip through his fingers, bullet-smooth and slick. All the way down the thick shaft until his hand bottoms out against his body, then pausing for just a second before bringing it back up just as slowly. He tightens his hand slightly at the top, grunting softly at the firm pressure on the sensitive head. He lowers his hand again, pausing midway to squeeze his aching length as he runs his thumb in light circles over the weeping opening. His hand and his cock are both so wet now, so slippery, so warm. He begins to slide his clenched fist up and down in a steady, measured, insistent rhythm.
~He uncrosses his ankles and spreads his legs, letting his feet dangle in the air on either side of the diving board, swinging them lazily as Jean slips back into the water and begins to make her way toward him. He watches her fiery spiked head float closer and closer until it disappears from his view under the edge of the diving board. His makeshift lounging chair dips slightly as two hands grip the edge of the board and then he grins as a dripping wet Jean hauls herself up out of the water. She’s sleek and slender and firm and looks a little like she’s licking her chops as her eyes run over him, lingering on his blatantly bulging crotch. She kneels between his parted legs and leans down to nip lightly at his stomach as her hands run up the tops of his thighs and right into his shorts. She’s running her hands over him as much as she can, one on his hard cock and one on his balls, grinning as she noses the open button of his shorts.~
He moves his hand faster, working himself in smooth strokes. His erection is taut, glistening, hard as a rock, disappearing into his clenched fingers with a sure and satisfying rapidity. The sleek curved head slips effortlessly through his hand, turning a deep red as he pumps away, his hips beginning to rock in time with the grasp and tug of his firm grip.
~He hisses at the bite of his zipper on sensitive skin, but then his shorts are open and Jean’s got his erection in her hand, holding it upright, squeezing it firmly as she opens that pretty little mouth and twirls her tongue lightly around the shiny head. There’s a plop and a gurgle as he drops his beer into the pool, his now empty hand settling lightly on hers where it’s wrapped around the base of his erection. He watches her mouth the tip of his cock, tongue dancing and curling and flicking and sweeping. She shivers and he knows she’s picking up what he’s feeling. The silky lush heat of her mouth, and the…oh yeah…sharp scrape of her bottom teeth on the underside of the head. God. So good. He gets his other hand out from behind his head and pushes lightly on the back of her neck, and she lowers her head, taking more of him in. His fingers tighten in her hair and he groans, encourages her. She closes her teeth on him and brings her head back up, dragging sharply upward, rasping him. She knows what he likes. Her teeth catch the curve of the head and she stops, sucking strongly for a second before descending again. This time he bumps against the back of her throat and she backs off a bit, holding him there until her throat relaxes. He pulls on her fingers, moves the hand that is gripping him tightly. “Do it, baby, do it.” And she does. Takes him in as far as she can, which is just far enough to make him say her name and tighten his grip on her neck. She holds him there, swallows rapidly, letting him wallow in the feeling of being engulfed in her mouth.~
He grips the headboard with his free hand, wraps his fist around the topmost railing as he tips his head back and closes his eyes. His hand is slick and hot and fast, jacking up and down a little more roughly, and little more quickly now, becoming a slippery sheath that slides over his cock in a blur as he moans and mumbles words that mean nothing to anyone but the Jean in his head.
~She backs off again and begins to suck him off with serious intent, tongue pushing against him as her mouth slides up and down his cock. He’s watching her head bob up and down between his legs, watching his rigid flesh disappear into that delicate face over and over again. He presses against the back of her neck, lightly, thrusting up into her mouth on each downstroke, his eyes wanting to roll back in his head from the sheer ecstasy of it, but at the same time wanting to watch himself come in her mouth. He’s urging her to move a little faster now, take him a little deeper and she knows that he’s close, would know it even if she couldn’t hear him thinking it. Would know it by the way his thigh muscles are bunching and quivering, by the way his fingers are squeezing her head as he tries not to control her movements any more than he already is. And finally, would know it by the way he’s telling her that he’s going to come and she’s going to swallow it all.~
His clenched fingers slip up and down over his thick hardness in frenzied strokes as he arches his back and digs his shoulders into the mattress, his pulse pounding in his ears, breath ragged in his throat. He grinds his teeth together, limbs corded and stiff, fist white-knuckled and sweaty on the headboard, metal grinding against metal through the pads of his fingers as the movement of his other hand becomes more desperate, more urgent. He squirms and twists under his own grip, and then his hips stop moving and his hand begins to lose its rhythm as he works himself mindlessly, chasing his release.
~He grabs her head in both hands and brings it down one last time. She stops moving, letting him thrust up with his hips and push down with his hands until he’s buried himself in her mouth, until her teeth are locked around the base of his erection. She bites just hard enough and begins to work her throat as the first heated spurt leaves his pulsing cock. He grits his teeth and groans and tells her how good she is, how perfect it feels as she swallows and bites and tickles his stomach with tiny puffs of air through her nose.~
He almost bites through his lip when the first pulsing contraction rides up his cock, propelling hot sticky droplets out of his body and onto his heaving chest. He groans long and low as his flesh convulses in his own hand, swelling and jerking and leaking over his fingers. Sharp pleasure shoots through his groin, flares brightly in his lower stomach, races along his every nerve ending before dissolving into blissful contentment. He loosens his grip on his still engorged penis, catching his breath, feeling the hot mess on his chest and belly beginning to cool already.
He closes his eyes and waits for his heartbeat to return to normal, savors the momentary absence of tension in his body, the pleasant thrum of post-orgasmic contentment. He grins as he hears the distant whine of the approaching Blackbird, figures he’s got about 10 minutes before Jeannie’s in his bathroom, shedding her uniform and looking forward to a long, hot shower. He gets up and heads for the bathroom, his erection already returning to full-strength as he contemplates just how long and hot he can make it for her.