Betsy came awake as Scott and Jean swept into the room. The feeling of Emma's bound desperation—as the blonde both repressed and irresistibly fed her lust, trying the bonds and gag that held her without success—had already put Betsy in a good mood, giving her some extremely pleasant dreams. But Scott and Jean's need for each other was impossible to sleep through.
Betsy stood up, noting she was as naked as Scott had left her, enjoying the freedom, the inclusion by proxy as Scott and Jean stripped themselves. They had to be nude for the sex to be fully enjoyed. For two such cerebral persons as them, there was nothing as erotic as going to the extreme opposite, letting the world dwindle down to naked skin gleaming in the light, sweat shining brightly on thrashing bodies, the sight of firm muscles and luscious curves. Betsy was the same way.
As was Emma. Betsy could tell, seeing how the ice queen went from coolly smoldering and pulling at her bonds to twitching her hips, her thighs rubbing together as she regarded the two perfect bodies now joining her in nudity. Jean smiled at her, picking up the submissive lust Emma simply couldn't deny.
"Hello Emma. I'd say this is a side of you I'd never seen before, but let's be honest, you have hinted at it very openly..."
Scott gave her a swift, not unpleasant strike on her ass. "Don't be rude, Jean. You two are in the same boat."
His gaze swept over Betsy through the slatted closet door, seeming to include her silently with a meeting of their eyes.
You three are in the same boat.
Jean looked to be considering Scott's admonishment, but she didn't appear too in favor of it. With the same panache Emma might've used in displaying her body, she slunk her arms around Scott, hanging off his muscular frame.
"You know what Scott's thinking, Emma? No, of course you don't—the only thing
you're
wearing is an inhibitor collar." Jean laughed sunnily. "He's thinking about how you don't suck him off. Imagine—a sweet cock like this and you don't want it in your mouth..."
Scott put his hand on the small of her back, pushing her along, easing her to the foot of the bed. "I don't want it in your mouth either," he said, and drove her with gentle firmness onto the bed, between Emma's spread-eagled legs. "Not right now..."
Jean playfully scooted down the length of Emma's body, running her lips along Emma's long alabaster legs as though it were impossible to deny their suppleness. Which, for the watching Betsy, it was. The only thing keeping her in the closet, watching instead of participating, was knowing that soon, she'd be an integral part of all their games. She wouldn't be able to
not
get fucked by all of them. Watching the play, seeing it as a neutral observer, was soon going to be a rare experience for her.
Jean came to Emma's groin, her red hair trickling across Emma's thigh as she came away from Emma's leg to regard her cunt instead. "I can tell what Scott sees in you," she purred sweetly, flicking her eyes back to Scott to reassure him she was on her best behavior. "And smells. I'm sure a woman as refined as you wouldn't taste of anything but the best. You'd eat yourself out, if you could. Maybe... hitch a ride on someone else's brain while they lick you?" She ran her tongue along the trembling lips of Emma's womanhood. "Bet you wish you knew what I was thinking right now. Bet you wish you knew how I liked your taste..."
"Jean," Scott chided, kneeling on the bed. "Be nice."
"Does Emma not think I'm being nice?" Jean asked rhetorically, dipping her tongue slightly inside of Emma's sex. Emma cringed, back arching—clearly enjoying it despite herself. "There. That was nice. And Emma, I'll give you a hint—you don't taste as good as Scott."
At the sight of pleasure being given and received, Betsy started touching herself. As good as it felt, it couldn't compare to the lustful cauldron inside of Emma. She was most turned on of all of them.
Scott reached over Jean to remove Emma's gag, finally allowing her blue-lipsticked mouth to contort to match her blazing eyes. "That's funny: the number of times he's been inside me, you'd think I'd taste
exactly
as good as Scott—"
Scott sighed. "Do I even have to say it?"
Emma looked at him lovingly. "You don't have to worry about
me,
Scott. You know no one could ever accuse me of being the least bit uncivil. Genteel, perhaps. Elegant. Refined, certainly. But never
rude.
Or inaccurate. So when I say that perhaps Jean's affection for your
victual
is just an unambiguous love of cock's flavor..."
Jean smirked as she rolled over onto her back, resting her head directly on Emma's crotch. "She's just begging to be punished, isn't she? But it's my turn for that..."
Scott joined Jean between Emma's legs, crawling over her, kissing her so hard that it drove her head against Emma's groin, melding his body to Jean's sumptuous physique. She moaned, feeling his hard cock nestle against her groin, her aroused juices coating it as they rubbed against one another. Scott embraced Jean, sensitive hands stroking and caressing her smooth back, tracing out the ridges of her vertebra and sending delights through her flesh as he worked his hands down to her tightly rounded buttocks. He took her ass in both hands and strongly pulled Jean to himself as he thrust into her.
They gasped together as his manhood disappeared into her pussy—then Scott gritted his teeth as the waves of pleasure from being inside her began to pound at him. Jean's eyes twitched a little and her head drifted back to lay on Emma's cunt again—already cock-drunk and ready to do whatever Scott wanted with her.
"Pathetic," Emma breathed, trying to hide how impressed she was by the way Scott had hilted Jean on the first thrust. Even she was hard-pressed to do
that.
"Jean, you must have really been starving for it after all this time. What's the matter? No necrophiliacs about to keep your itch scratched?"
Jean only grinned up at her. She had her long legs wrapped around Scott's waist, holding him in a vise-like grip that demanded the hard thrusts he gave her and tried to make him stay inside her cunt, but even her toned thighs couldn't hold him in.
He wrenched himself out of her, leaving her red bush dripping with her own flowing juices and his growing precum, before he fucked back inside her. Then he slid back out, dragging with him more of her cream. It matted her curly pubic hair and glistened on her mound, as if her screams and moans weren't evidence enough of Jean's pleasure.
Jean wound her arms around Emma's thighs, holding herself steady with them as her body otherwise completely surrendered to Scott's needful lust. She sucked in breath, raising her tits up high to display their creamy pallor, the nipples thick and dark with arousal, erect like they were reaching out for Scott's touch.
"Yes, Scott," Jean moaned, feeling him pinch her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pull torturously on her flesh until she could feel the pain even through a;; her pleasure. "I've never been fucked like this before... I've never had it like this in all my life!"
Over and over, Scott drove himself into Jean's wet cunt. Each thrust he made slammed through Jean and reverberated through Emma as well, jiggling her overripe breasts and sending contortions through her finely angled face. Crimson appeared in both Emma's drawn cheeks. She was growing ever more aroused—turned on by being ignored even as Scott and Jean fucked on top of her!
"I'm—I'm coming—I keep coming—Oh Christ!" Jean gasped. "I don't think it's ever going to—stop!"
Scott kissed her hard, the passion of it pushing her head to the side as he sucked at her neck. She had to bite down on Emma's inner thigh to keep from screaming her lungs out. Then she felt Scott's lips against her ear and heard him whisper "Can you smell how wet Emma is?"
She could—she hadn't realized what the acrid scent was, but now it registered—Emma Frost, the White Queen, Bitch Goddess of the X-Men was getting off on being dominated by the two of them.
