X Men The Housepainter

Disclaimer: Characters portrayed in the following are not mine and I did not create them.

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Warren landed on the balcony, storm clouds gathering over the Rockies skyline. The doors opened and the curtains danced in the wind and coming rain. Shaking the desert dust off his Duncan Quinn jacket he stepped in and laid the bunch of Liliaceae on the table making for the drinks cabinet in the next room. It was dark now, the days getting shorter. He had been on business in New York, but managed to secure the afternoon and a few days more for downtime, so he had headed out for San Juan National Forest and called Betsy to meet him at the Penthouse in a couple of hours. Her flight would get there soon, but while he waited for his driver to pick her up he thought a drink in order. Aching muscles, tense and tired. P and L the subject of hot debate. Not able to forget the office. He tried to visualise his anxieties pouring from the decanter into the dark rich maroon of Baron de Sigognac. All the stacked paper frustration of telemarketing swirling in his belly acid, burned away by brandy fire. His shoulders lowered as he exercised his neck. His wings flexed a little and he put down the glass and went back to pick up the delicate flowers.

Betsy pounced at his back, toppling them both head over heels and spraying the bunch in a half-assed firework. His yell was muffled as her hand cupped over his mouth and they came to rest against the leather sofa. Her dark hair shrouded his face and Warren caught the light off her white grin before she kissed him intensely. Stunned and a little aroused, he clutched her arms trapping his face in their embrace and pulled her away from him.

'I sent Roger out to pick you up from Colorado Springs!' He said.

'Oh,' she said 'you'd better call him back then. I teleported through.'

Her shadow walking still made him uncomfortable, but for the sake of so many other problems they had overcome of late he wasn't about to say anything. After all, it saved on aviation fuel and a giant ticket price.

'You know,' she continued 'I was so horny after the weekend, I've been masturbating every day...'

His eyebrow went up.

'I even spoilt those nice panties you gave me.'

She leaned back on his shins and tossed the purple hair out her of eyes. She got up and sauntered over to the glass, giving it a sniff and a sip.

Discarding his jacket Warren undid the cuffs on his blue shirt and went to get a lighter. By the time he got back she had concocted a Brandy Alexander and lit the fire. She lay in his large chair with the cocktail in hand looking good. The cream was still out.

He carried on into the bedroom and put the shirt over the back of a chair while she called out from the other room.

'Good day at the office?'

He popped his head out.

'S'alright.'

His thumb flicked over the nub of the lighter and ignited a flame. He held the flicker to a wick and heard a small crackle. The fairy light expanded and melted the wax a little.

'How were the investors?' She asked.

'You know.' He replied mindlessly. 'Mannequins. Dull.'

She perched at the lip of doorway watching his slow movements. His wings flexed idly, and the muscles at the nape of his back contorted with each flap. She felt a shiver of excitement as he arranged a ring of candles; some on the drawers, some on the nightstand and always a ghostly dance of shadows coming through from the fireplace. He finished and turned to face her. The darkness was cast across her belly but the light reached her chest and neck and a corona of orange warmth outlined the sheen of her beautiful hair. He stepped to her, tangling his hands in that hair, as hers held his hips and her lips held his lips in a thick foggy kiss. She murmured something and as they parted he licked the taste of cold white vanilla off his top lip. He said 'Did you use the mixer?'

'Yes.' She said.

'Show me how you shook it.' He said.

One warm hand left his back and did an open fist in mid-air. She waved it up and down lazily, looking back to meet his gaze and feeling the butterflies in her belly. She grinned again, laughing, and kissed him open-mouthed and wetly, her tongue passing over his. He become rough then and pawed her breast. She tingled and changed her silky laugh to a low moan encouraging him. 'Mmn-hmn.' She mouthed, pressing her weight into his palms and unconsciously opening her legs. Warren pulled back and helped remove her woollen top, messing her hair. She pushed further and they fell back onto the bed, her hands working at the buttons on his fly. He didn't want to be totally bare while she was still dressed and despite her animal determination, he yanked at her faded white t-shirt -- her sign of comfort underneath expensive outer dress -- and she relented with a frown, kowtowing as it slithered over her shoulders and then off, further ruffling her hair.

Betsy had had enough and thrust him back down, wings folded beneath, as she deftly flicked each button undone and pulled his trousers to his ankles.

'I see you didn't spoil the bra too,' he said, and she paused, glancing down at her cleavage which wavered over his knees. His eyes went back to hers and she grinned again. 'Just because I came in them doesn't mean I won't be wearing them, love.' Subtle fingers wound round the outline of his erection. 'Just like you won't be binning these after tonight.'

He puffed out a stream of air as the cascade of silken hair surrounded his crotch and he felt her sweating palm cup his testicles. Betsy peeled open the boxers and palmed his straining cock, drawing the skin down while her lips pursed and her anticipation rose. Above the crackle of the fireplace, Warren heard the thin layer of saliva split as she began to blow him. She worked her head up and down, hands resting in his lap while his eyes watched the bickering shadows duel on the ceiling. He curled his toes. She lifted her right hand -- her dominant hand -- and stroked at the shaft slowly, letting her spit dribble down to soften the flesh. He groaned her name 'Betsy' and made to rest his hand on the back of her head. She gave an acknowledging sigh and started to palm his balls in a tight circle. 'Fuck' he said.

She raised herself sucking up her spit and went in to kiss him hungrily, straddling and trapping his cock painfully at the apex of her of blue jeans. 'How d'you like that?' She asked, stroking his bare hairless chest and surrounding the nipples with short fingernails. He nodded and tossed her body over onto her back with a squeal and quickly unzipped the rest of her. Dragging the jeans over her ankles, she slinked her legs around his waist egging him over to her crotch whilst reaching for his shoulder. She yanked him down on top of her and gave him another mind-bending kiss, hands caressing each other like fur coats. He massaged her breast again and she groaned through her lips and tongue, eyes closed, coming instinctually. It raised to her neck, clutching at her jawbone and up through her hair. She grabbed his cock roughly, intertwining her tongue with his and he grabbed her tit again. She growled impatiently. 'Go down on me,' she nodded commandingly 'go down on me Warren.'

And he left her face and breasts and neck and hair and slipped down to kneel on the floor overcome with the thick scent of her pussy. She spread her thighs a little, flesh damp from tension, beckoning him in like a giant glowing sun. His fingers stuck to her skin and grated just above the line of satin, pressing on her belly in a coaxing motion. Betsy's breathing was getting more audible by the minute. Her legs vibrated and Warren peeled down the layer of panties sensing the earthen smell of woman and sex evaporating off her hungry body. He dropped the panties to the floor and shot to her cunt lathing her lips with his rough tongue. She became very still then, blissful as he went to work on her. A keening noise echoed from her mouth. Fingers from a hot hot hand stroked delicately around her bottom upwards to the rumpled skin and then slightly pressing into her opening. He flicked his tongue around that little angry red button never quite bullseyeing it just skirting in an ever increasing raging wind-up spring. Betsy's legs buckled at the knee but he pushed down with weight keeping her relatively still whilst his lips closed on her clitoris. She fought against him, tangling herself in his short blonde hair and scratching his scalp. He put the middle finger in her then. 'Ungh...!' And sawed it in slowly, carefully, fully. He'd always thought the alphabet was useful. Not every man used it. He did, and Betsy was appreciating it. By the time he hit Q she was hitting the big O. His nostrils inhaled the vapour of her leaking and he used it to coat his ringfinger, elbow keeping her right leg out of action while he angled it into her anus. 'Warren honey, I'm coming, Warren -- I'm coming baby...' Her head tossed and he pushed it into her ass letting her hit another tummy-curling come right after the first. He took his right hand away and stroked forcefully the top of her mound bringing her spasms down gently. His eyes caught the extreme rising and falling of her chest, and he longed to get that bra off and suckle her tits, spray her neck with his come, wings outstretched her dark hair and light being engulfing him totally.

Her panting subsided, and her arousal fired fully, rising from the sheets into a heady embrace of fucking lust. She cradled his cheeks and kissed his lips, wet from the juice of her tingling cunt. 'That was beautiful honey.' She expressed. He saw her eyes clouding over; raw and primal that mesmerising hair all over her face. She jumped on him. 'I'm gonna fuck your brains out.'

And she felt for his erection, still covered in saliva from her mouth, having been sucking on his dick, and jerked on it a few times -- as if she needed to -- and fed it into her with urgency throwing back her head and going slack jawed. He groaned loudly and felt her thick glove blanket his cock, sinking in, a wonderful finality to their ministrations. No slowness, no care, just harsh and full-on, Betsy's return for an intrusive orgasm. He moaned and his neck strained as her hands supported her upright because his bucking legs infringed on her perched ass. She bit her lip as she felt his cock digging up inside her, hollowing out her being everything in life all built up just for this one intense screwing. Her hips shifted constantly, desperately trying to get him off, grating over his hips while he thrust up into her dripping cunt. Her head tipped forward raining purple onto his pecs. 'Show me your tits.' He hissed, fingering her belly. She nodded, grinding herself on him. A gust of a dislodged log on the fire blew in hot air and she felt it caress her back, fingers working to undo the clasp that covered her generous breasts. He mouthed something filthy as her bra came off, and in primal need grabbed both tits in a tight grip whilst driving into her. 'Warren baby... yes...'

'Uh-huh.'

'Pinch my nipples. Pinch them.'

And she hadn't bargained on this. She usually took a little longer to come a second time after his head, but the familiar feelings were stirring just below the stomach. A kind of string that gets stretched and never feels like it will break but then does and overtakes her body in such sweet simple tangible ecstasy from this man's tongue, his fingers his excellent wrist and such a beautiful big pink cock. 'God!' She yelled, his hold on her tits bruising them. She had to get him off. She wanted to feel his cock in her mouth again, spraying her throat with thick copious jets of his slippery white come. She wanted to finger herself, to orgasm on his thrusting erection, his hips vibrating like a jackhammer, to plunge her two main fingers into her pussy and drill in and out until all she could do was dribble a scream out as she exploded.

He read her mind, and she caught herself crying out success!

Her throat going red from such thick panting, she rode him like an animal, pleasure overcoming sense and composure. Jesus she had to get him off she was going to dissolve. Her left hand fingers found his ballsack as he tickled her clit in a tiny tiny circle. She had to concentrate. Unbelievable.

'Holy shit' he gasped as she palmed his testicles. That just made things worse for her. Warren bent upward holding his chest against hers the sweat running off her neck and trickling in-between her breasts and then down her belly to her salty cunt where his fingers were turning her into a whore. He held her at the underarms and lifted her up and down, letting gravity force his cock further up her cervix until she was crying out to come. Eyes closed, the only focal point her groin when warm sweaty man hands were making everything excruciating she began to writhe again, her insides twisting like a giant slinky spring. 'I'm coming' she cried 'I'm coming Warren...' And she went supersonic franticly riding him at a difficult angle which made everything white for her but kept him from tipping over the edge into her warm pussy as much as he wanted to. Her breasts grated against his slippery chest and her eyes clenched close watching revolving lava lamp shapes fuck each other as she fucked her boyfriend.

Still on edge she knocked him back and clambered off his crotch leaking fluid over his belly as she about-faced and kneeled back down, her cunt and anus at his face and his straining erection within swallowing distance from her thirsty mouth. Betsy lost no rhythm sucking his cock into her throat as Warren stuck both fingers back into her pleasure points. Her groaning became constant. It was all too much for the poor boy. She worked her head up and down again, her man's thick cock on her tongue again where it belonged. She grabbed his balls, harsh, twisting them. His feet shook, his toes curled again. He was going to shoot any minute. And she loved that, she could ride him cowgirl all night and come as many times as she wanted and then get his hot load in her throat. 'Betts... baby.... unghh.'

Secret weapon time; she bobbed her head, and spat a globule of saliva onto the shaft, coating her index finger enough to stick it in his ass. 'I'm gonna come Betsy, I'm gonna come.' His chest was ballooning, and his fingers and tongue were way off rhythm in her pussy. She had him. She fired her psychic knife into his anus, lighting the room with the energy of his come. He howled exhaustively seeing a single sky and she sucked down a salty splash, drinking his orgasm like the thick cream from her Brandy Alexander. Her right hand jerked his shaft heavily, raising her head having enough of his come and letting the rest shoot under pressure over her fine neck and sweaty breasts. Appropriately enough, he blacked out for several seconds.

When he came to, she was propped up on her elbow his side up licking the sloppy white trails of his come off her tits in rivulets. She offered one to him, and he grinned widely, accepting it. 'Jesus,' he said, marvelling at her appetite. He rolled on top of her, trapping her mouth with his come still on the bottom lip in a vivid misty kiss.