Bedtime Fantasies

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On occasion, Jean Grey, resident redhead telepath of the Xavier Home for Gifted Youngsters, would pick up an errant string of thoughts and emotions from someone in the mansion; like a lone radio signal she'd happen to come across. There really was no controlling this, not effectively anyway, but through her training under Xavier's tutelage, she'd learn to convert much of it into simple white noise. This, combined with the rigorous danger room combat training with another instructor, Wolverine, had helped her to easily achieve restful sleep. She had even begun to make progress on blocking out the more carefree thoughts, those without much emotion or concern put behind them. However, no student had thoughts louder or more persistent than the Southern belle goth named Rogue.

For the third night in a row, Rogue was reading one of her trashy romance novels, and wishing desperately to live out even a fraction of the sexual embraces detailed in them. Unfortunately, due to her power, she feared she'd never get so much as someone to hold her hand out on the veranda, to watch the sun slowly dip behind the rose garden, let alone get plowed from behind so hard that her heaving bosom shook free of her tight corset. All teenagers go through a time of sexual frustration, when their hormones become unbearable and all they want to do is rub up against the nearest attractive mate. In Rogue's case, she felt that she'd always feel this way, constantly seeking out release but never being fulfilled by her touch alone. She was already 18 and hadn't had a kiss that didn't end with the other person in a coma, and she certainly hadn't experienced the sensation of being filled up with a throbbing, warm, member as it pounded against her cervix like a battering ram against a castle gate.

Jean thought to herself about how lurid and lewd Rogue's thoughts were; even for a teenager with her level of sexual frustration they were downright pornographic. Given that her main outlet for sex was literally porn, and romance was only experienced through romance novels that bordered on porn, Rogue's nasty mind didn't surprise Jean. She was more concerned with how Scott Summers, Jean's boyfriend, often found his way into Rogue's fantasies. Sooner or later, the long-haired pirate, with a chest too wide for his white shirt to stay buttoned over, would transform into Scott. Aside from being annoyed at someone else fantasizing about her boyfriend, Rogue's sexual theater of the mind just ended up getting Jean horny, too. The only solution, then, was to sneak into Scott's room, wake him up, and ride him until they both passed out. As good in bed as he was, he couldn't compare to the wild fantasies Rogue was transmitting to Jean, so the redhead always ended up a little disappointed.

She knew what would happen soon, as Rogue read her well worn romance novel. Rogue's hand would wander over her supple curves, gingerly pressing pale flesh to pale flesh, gradually working herself up into a frenzy that took 45 minutes, at least, to reach. Then the hour would be rounded out by Rogue's handling of her pussy, which Jean had to admit had become somewhat expert. In fact, she even stole a few of Rogue's moves for her own pleasure. Payment received for the service Jean was going to provide her.

Jean couldn't go through another night of listening to Rogue beg for a well muscled sex god to wear her like a cock-sleeve, spreading her out while his body rained beads of sweat onto Rogue's admittedly gorgeous body (even Jean had to admit that a body like Rogue's being forbidden to feel touch was a great injustice to the world). Moreover, she didn't want to deal with the hour of depressing thoughts that came post-orgasm. Rogue would always gently cry herself to sleep over the fact she would never feel even the slightest of kisses without ending the sex before it began. Though she knew it was an invasion of privacy, and a gross misuse of her powers, Jean was sleep deprived, concerned for Rogue's increasingly depressed thoughts, and also a little angry at her for often using Scott for her own, sexual, ends. So, from her room down the hall, Jean started to fiddle with Rogue's mind, pressing on the perception of her senses to make her feel what she wanted her to feel.

Meanwhile, in her room, Rogue was just barely tracing the area around her belly button with her fingers, imagining it was the tip of Scott's tongue teasing her flesh. Suddenly, the sensation became very real. She could feel the dampness of his muscle against her skin, and the humidity coming off his breath as he dragged himself up her torso. Unsurprisingly surprised, Rogue pulled away the covers and examined her bed for anyone in it beside herself. As had been the case for all nights before, Rogue was alone on her mattress, dressed online in her yellow and green pajamas. Yet the feeling she was experiencing was unmistakable, even for someone who had never experienced it. There was a tongue dragging slowly up her stomach. She could even feel the tip of the phantom's nose graze against her skin every so often during the trip.

The goth teen pulled up her shirt, stopping just below her breasts, and surveyed the blank canvas of her stomach. Once more, she confirmed no one was there, yet her skin was visibly reacting to a touch she was certain was real. Her toned abdominal muscles, barely hidden under her last vestige of fat, clenched as her body tensed. When she felt the tongue near her chest, she immediately threw off her top, letting her heavy breasts bounce free and lay unobstructed. There was of course no reason to bother, this was all in her head, but Rogue wanted to fully fall into this weird and wonderful dream.

Years later, Jean would be able to accomplish this mental feat without so much as blinking, giving the target whatever sensation she desired within a moment, or dragging it out for what felt like years. In her current, novice, state, however, Jean required far more interaction in order to both maintain the link between her and Rogue. Furthermore, simulating the actions of another, onto a real person, without them thinking it was just bugs crawling all over them, was difficult to do. Her only solution was to become as involved in the process as Rogue was. So, as Rogue felt a tongue twist and glide against her belly, Jean's tongue was flicking in the open air, her eyes shut in concentration and, as much as she hated to admit it, pleasure.

Rogue let out an audible gasp that nearly woke her roommate, Kitty, from her deep sleep, when the phantom lips enclosed around her nipple. The mouth started wide, taking in as much of Rogue's breast as it could. A second after contact, the lips started to move toward each other, until they closed around her nipple and the mouth suckled gently. The motion continued again and again, while Rogue gripped the sheets. She wanted to press her hand against the back of the head that was pleasuring her, but with nothing there, all she accomplished was pressing down on her own breast. A hand, not her own, closed around her other tit and squeezed with more aggressive arousal than she had done to herself, earlier.

Jean, meanwhile, moved her lips as if she were making out with someone, feeling the sensation of a breast in her mouth, while her hand groped at the air and felt the heft of the other tit down the hall, in another room. She wanted to caress her own body, squeeze her curves and massage the firmness of her toned stomach and thighs. However, she was there for Rogue, not herself. Besides, she had become so engrossed in the fantasy she was giving Rogue, she could barely remember her own, real body. In order for Rogue to know the sensation of a man's body, his weight, pressing down on her while he groped and kissed her body, Jean had to put her own mind in that state. An impossible task, had she not dabbled in the field before. One night with Scott, she experimented with the idea of switching the sensations the two of them were feeling, with each other. In retrospect, she knew it would have been better to warn him, as suddenly going from fucking a vagina, to feeling yourself get fucked in a vagina you didn't have was a startling experience. After calming down, the two continued the experiment, until Jean knew full well what it was like to have a woman's body pressed up against her own, and her own being that of a man. She also knew what it was like to have a throbbing erection, begging for shelter.

For a moment, Rogue was frightened she had lost it all when the lips and hand seemed to vanish, only to have the former close around her ear lobe and the latter push against her inner thigh. Though her vision told her she didn't have to, her body reacted regardless, and her legs spread for the phantom lover, and felt the sensation of a set of man's hips being hugged by her creamy thighs. Quickly, not wanting to confuse the experience, she pushed down and kicked off her pants, leaving her completely bare and writhing on her disheveled bed. She had to bite down on her finger to keep from screaming out with joy when her pussy began to be manipulated, telling her, despite what her eyes saw (or didn't see) that the head of an engorged cock was making its way through her tight and private tunnel.

Rogue's nighttime sexual benefactor could have made the cock seem bigger, to make it feel like the imposing force she had dreamed of having fill her up. However, Jean kept to a more realistic length and girth, basing it on Scott's very own. She wanted Rogue to know at least some realism in her fantasies, so that when the big day finally did come, as she hoped it would, and soon, Rogue wouldn't be disappointed with reality. Plus, it was much easier to base it on something she knew, quite intimately, than try to add details she could get wrong. As the feeling of warmth began to hug an appendage she didn't have but could feel, Jean quivered and moaned, her hips swiveling and grinding her high and firm butt into her mattress, pulling the fitted sheet from the corners. As soon as she told Rogue's body that the unseen lover of hers was beginning to move his hips, so too did Jean, thrusting up against the air.

The pale, curvy, body moved of its own accord, trying to make sense of the thrusting sensation by rocking itself on her bed. Those plump, purple, lips felt embraced by another set, and her tongue bucked at the sensation of another tongue gliding against it before trying to entangle itself with the invisible muscle. The mixing of saliva felt so real, she could have sworn she felt some of her lover's slide down her throat, causing her to gulp and, for a brief moment, cough with surprise. Once she got used to the new feeling, her lips moved in the air as Jean's were, unbeknownst to her. Thin strands of spit connected her tongue to the roof of her mouth, breaking almost instantly as her lips parted further to let more of her lover in. Her back arched, throwing her big, perky, breasts up into the air to bounce, even though she couldn't feel that familiar movement.

Jean was telling her mind that her tits were being pressed against a broad and well defined chest. She was able to, at the very least, make the dream Scott a bit more well defined, for Rogue's sake. As the set of huge breasts that Jean was so envious of flattened against the manly chest she had constructed, her hands moved through the air, and directed the phantom Scott to grope Rogue's alluring ass, another asset Jean had wished she had been born with. For a moment, she wanted to tell Rogue's mind she was flipping her over, and pull out her cock so she could stuff it into her asshole, but ultimately decided that might be a bit advanced for Rogue's "first" time.

Mouth open to the world, lips moving slowly in the air as a tongue darted and curled between them, her feet pushed down on the sheets and her ass ground into the mattress. She immediately closed her teeth down on her bottom lip to stifle her orgasmic moan, unsure now if the wet feeling between her legs was from her, or the finishing treat from her ghostly lover. As Jean would soon prove, the gushing feeling of a woman's orgasm felt quite different than being unloaded into by a man's.

However, Jean was actually not sure how to simulate cumming inside of Rogue. Her and Scott had practiced safe sex, to the point where, even with a condom, she had Scott pull out, just in case. Still, that didn't mean Jean would leave Rogue empty handed. Although Scott wasn't allowed to finish inside of Jean's pussy, he was allowed to fill her up elsewhere. It was an experience she was all too happy to share with her teammate.

As Rogue panted, coming down from the greatest orgasm she'd experienced in her life, her mind told her to open her mouth more to make room for an invading force. Though still inexperienced, it didn't take Rogue long to figure out that the same dick that had filled her up between the legs, moments ago, was now filling up her mouth. A pair of strong hands held her head steady as the cock began to move back and forth in her mouth, sawing itself against her twitching tongue. Rogue proved herself a natural, and within no time was moving her lips and swirling her tongue around the invisible shape, causing even Jean to surrender control and just give into the pleasure.

Based on the traded experience with Scott, Jean knew exactly how her own mouth felt on Scott's cock, and couldn't help but compare her technique to Rogue's. Perhaps it was because Rogue had such fuller, softer lips than hers, or maybe somehow her Southern accent transformed even her tongue to move differently from her own. Whatever the case, Rogue's mouth felt far better than her own. She wanted to kiss those lips again, this time with her own. Feel those plump tiers overtake her thin red lips, and massage them with her tongue. A new kiss like that would mean ending the current oral experience, and she certainly couldn't have that. When she finally came, her legs closed together as her pussy spasmed, prompting her to tell Rogue's brain that Scott's cock was now letting out load after load into her mouth and throat. The climax was so intense for Jean, she nearly lost the concentration needed to telegraph the memory of having a fresh load of cum fill her mouth. She also needed to be ready to tell Rogue just what sensation to feel when Rogue decided whether her reaction would be to spit or swallow. Jean was delighted she chose the latter.

Rogue's eye lids lowered in a dreamy state while she drank down every drop of the delicious liquid, letting it land in her belly and warm her up from the inside, like a delicious midnight snack. She even got to feel a few droplets land on her chest when her ghostly lover pulled out. Seconds later, the sensations of having a man straddle her chest was gone. When she touched her fingers to her breast, she no longer felt the warm dampness of his seed; she only felt the dampness of her own sweat.

Finally, Jean thought, I can get some sleep.

Finally, Rogue thought, she got my message.