Psylocke stared into the full-length mirror at her reflection. Completely nude and shaven, her perfectly toned body demanded an unwavering discipline that bordered insanity. Sighing audibly, she picked up her midnight-blue leotard bodysuit off her bed.
Carefully and deliberately, she stepped into the suit one leg at a time, the fabric clinging to her lithe, athletic frame. After securing the high collar of the suit, she took her red sash and tied it deftly around her waist.
The straps came next. Though of little practical value to those who did not know her, they were an essential part of her identity as a ninja warrior. The compressive bindings around her limbs kept her laser-focused and her movements surgically precise. She was a kunoichi at heart, a deadly assassin who carried out her missions with utmost perfection. She did her arms first, sliding them up over her biceps. Next, she pulled a set of straps through each leg, letting the spandex snap tight around her thighs.
Continuing her methodic ritual, she picked up her left stockingand placed her foot into the snug opening. The high techspandex material conformed immediately to the arch of her foot and toes. She slowly unrolled the stocking upward, drawing it over the lean muscle of her calf and her toned thigh. She actually loved this part of the process, feeling the spandex accentuate every curve and contour of her powerful long legs.She repeated the process with her other leg, moving with the same deliberate precision. Taking her time, she made some final adjustments to ensure that both stockings are perfectly symmetrical.
Finally, she slid her fingers into her gloves, flexing them to ensure a perfect fit. Standing tall, she looked at herself in the mirror for a final time before walking out of her room.
At night, the moonlit hallways of the Xavier Institute were hushed and serene. Most of the X-Men went to bed early in preparation for an early rise the next day. But as Psylocke moved quietly through the hallways towards the gym, her lavender eyes sparkled with excitement. She knew who awaited her inside.
As she pushed open the door, the sight of Logan--Wolverine--greeted her. He was working out intensely, his powerful form a mesmerizing blur of muscle and strength. He finished his bench press set with a loud exhale and sat up, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
She watched him for a moment, a fond smile playing on her lips. Though new, their romance was electrifyingly intense. They shared a profound physical intimacy that left them both breathless and craving more with each encounter.
"Logan," she called out, her voice carrying a playful lilt.
He turned, a grin spreading across his rugged face. "Bets," he greeted, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. "Decided to join me for a late-night session?"
"Couldn't resist," she replied, stepping onto the mat. "How about a sparring match? Loser does a special favor for the winner."
Logan grinned, locking his eyes with hers. "What kind of favor?"
"Loser has to satisfy the winner," she stated confidently, arms crossed.
Logan's grin widened. "You're on."
They moved into their stances, circling each other with a familiarity born of countless hours of training together. Psylocke's heart pounded with anticipation. She knew Logan's moves intimately, just as he knew hers. Their connection was deep, both in combat and in love.
She made the first move, her long legs flashing out in a series of rapid, high kicks. Logan blocked and dodged, but she pressed her advantage, using her flexibility and speed to keep him on the defensive. Her kicks were precise and powerful, each one aimed to disrupt his balance.
Logan growled in frustration as he struggled to close the distance. Psylocke's legs seemed to be everywhere at once, fending off his attacks with a fluid grace that left him little room to maneuver. She smiled, feeling the thrill of having the upper hand.
"Come on, Logan," she teased, landing a particularly hard kick to his side. "Is that all you've got?"
Logan's eyes narrowed, a fierce determination settling in. He changed his strategy, lunging forward with a burst of speed and power. Psylocke tried to counter with a sweeping kick, but he anticipated her move, catching her leg and pulling her off balance.
Before she could recover, Logan moved in, his sheer strength overwhelming her. He twisted, sending her tumbling to the mat. She tried to scramble to her feet, but he was already there, pinning her down with his weight. She looked up at him, breathless and laughing, their faces inches apart. "Alright, you win," she conceded, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Logan leaned in, his voice a low growl filled with affection. "So, how are you going to satisfy me?"
Psylocke reached up, gently tracing his jawline with her fingertips. "You get to choose."
Without a word, he smiled as he helped Psylocke to her feet, his eyes softening. Before she could react, he leaned in and his lips met hers in a long, passionate kiss, filled with the sexual tension that they kept bottled up during their skirmish. Psylocke's eyes fluttered shut as she drew into him, her arms wrapping around his neck.
Their kiss deepened, their tongues exploring and intertwining with each other with carnal desire. Logan's hand moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer, while Psylocke's fingers threaded through his hair, anchoring them in this moment of pure intimacy.
When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other. Logan's eyes searched hers, a soft smile playing on his lips as he gently pushed down on her shoulder. Betsy, responding at once to what he wanted, kept her trusting gaze on her lover as she slowly dropped down to her knees. Now level with his bulging crotch, she quickly pulled off his gym shorts, revealing his already semi-rigid member. Untying her sleek purple hair, she let it cascade down her back.
Gripping the base of Logan's cock with one hand, she encircled his large sweaty balls with her lips and swirled her wet tongue over them, before drawing her cheeks in to suck them. It was predictably salty and slightly acrid in taste but she didn't mind, knowing that Logan was turned on by her indifference towards his dirty manhood. She would do this a few more times, thoroughly cleaning his balls before running her tongue down towards the bottom of his nutsack, darting the tip dangerously close to his anal sphincter, her nose buried in between his set of testes. She gazed her lavender eyes up into his and received a look of satisfaction and approval as he ran his fingers slowly through her hair.
Now that her lover was fully erect, Psylocke began working on his stiff member. She ran her tongue slowly along the underside of his shaft, pressing up against its bulging undervein. Her tongue expertly danced around his throbbing prick head, flicking at its slit. Purposefully, she continued to flirt at giving him head while just avoiding it, kissing the tip of his cock but never fully engulfing it, then repeating the cycle of her tongue dance. She wanted him to be tortured enough until he demanded it from her, which is exactly what he did.
Tired of her cocktease, Logan grasped a handful of Psylocke's purple hair to hold her steady and presented his cock to her lush, full lips. Opening her mouth wide to accommodate him, she accepted his manhood and wrapped her lips fully around his cock. This elicited a low sigh of pleasure from Logan, who now watched with content as the deadly kunoichi started to steadily fellate him on her knees.
Betsy loved the familiar taste of Logan's massive prick, which was as hard and unyielding as the adamantium that coursed through his veins. She used her tongue expertly, exploring every vein and ridge of his cock. Taking Logan deeper into her mouth, it wasn't long before she relaxed herself completely, deepthroating him. Encouraged by this, he palmed the back of her head with his large hand and pushed, shoving his manhood even deeper down her throat.
Psylocke struggled to breath as her face was buried in his crotch. Even with her expert training, a drool of saliva trickled out from her lips as he pulled out. Feeling like a total slut, she gasped for breath, her wet eyes opening to meet his. Logan, breathing heavily with exhilaration, looked at her lovingly. She proceeded to soundly suck him off like a whore, rocking her head forward and back while maintaining eye contact. Appreciating this, he ran his fingers through her silky purple hair as she worked.
Satisfied after being sucked off by the purple-haired female assassin, Logan decided it was now his turn. He gently tilted Psylocke's head back, allowing her a moment to catch her breath. With his hand placed firmly over the top of her head, he asserted his dominance over her and she understood what he wanted next.
About time, Psylocke thought to herself. When it came to making love, she was the polar opposite to her fiercely independent and strong-willed self. On the outside, she maintained total control of her mind and body. In the bedroom, she wanted no control whatsoever. She preferred giving herself up entirely to her lover, someone who knew what he wanted and didn't shy away from taking it. Resting both her hands on Logan's muscular hairy thighs, she prepared herself.
