Jean looped the apron around her neck and tied it behind her waist. She wore nothing else. It covered her full breasts and her sex, naturally enough, but let her wide ass spread out below the apron strings. She couldn't wait for Scott to walk into the kitchen and see it. She knew that she was a voluptuous woman, not like tall, slender Emma, with her svelte hips, her tight ass, and then those oversized fake tits as big as her head. But men liked a fat ass. PAWG, that's what some of the newer students called her. Jean just imagined Scott walking in on her and giving her well-rounded booty the affectionate smack that a husband should give his wife. She turned on the stove, set a pan full of cooking oil on the open flame, and let it heat up as she got the eggs.
The refrigerator door was already open. Jean was startled when it suddenly shut, revealing Emma there. All Emma wore was a set of dark stockings, the rest of her bare body on full display. Jean couldn't remember if Emma had worn those to bed or if she'd decided they would be the only thing she wore that morning—some sleazy echo of what Jean was trying to do with the apron. At any rate, Emma held a popsicle, the plastic-wrapped length of frozen dessert between her bare, admittedly fantastic breasts.
"Oh, hi Jean," she said, as if somehow she hadn't managed to notice Jean hustling around the kitchen, wearing next to nothing. She closed the refrigerator door.
"Good morning." Jean rolled her eyes as she opened the refrigerator again, Emma opening up the popsicle and dropping its plastic in the waste bin.
Horrible for the environment,
Jean thought uncharitably, not bothering to shield her surface thoughts. She grabbed up a handful of eggs and a bag of shredded cheese.
"Breakfast for the sheik and the rest of the harem?" Emma asked. "It's amazing how domestic you can make the aftermath of a foursome. Not even any codeine, just a balanced breakfast..."
"I don't think Scott will be too bored," Jean said as she walked to the stove, swaying her hips, showing off the firm yet girthy ass that would be tempting Scott just as well as the White Queen and any of her skanky outfits.
Let's see you get that implanted into your cheap slut body.
"Oh, I'd never go for butt implants. I enjoy being spanked too much."
"I suppose if you'd wanted to avoid punishment, you wouldn't have been a supervillain."
"You never can tell, Jean darling. You apparently want to have an active sex life, yet you dress up in costumes with no femininity whatsoever. Teenagers normally don't have very much of a fashion sense, but that green dress you used to wear at least let people know you have all the right parts. Now you have that red and blue thing that makes you look like you're going into space..."
Jean turned to look at Emma, who was tapping the unwrapped popsicle against her full lips, nonchalantly showing off all of her perfect body. Creamy skin, enormous breasts, surgically precise features. With Jean watching, she ran the popsicle along her mouth, dragging her tongue over it, then doing another pass with her lips pressed in nipping kisses along its length, staining her mouth with its fruity meltwater. The blue tinge it gave her lips reminded Jean of her frosty White Queen look.
"I thought you didn't like giving blowjobs," Jean said, turning back to crack the eggs into the skillet. "Could've fooled me."
Emma's lips smacked as she suckled at the popsicle, slurping up its taste with autoerotic pleasure. "I was a stripper, Jean. Of course I don't mind giving blowjobs." She gulped the popsicle into her hot little mouth, pulling her lips down its length, letting them pop off the rounded tip. "But I don't want to offer. I want Scott to take. I want him to desire my throat so bad that he'll shove himself into my mouth to get it. Dominate me. Ravish me.
Need me.
That's real love, blood boiling, balls on fire—not your puppy dog nonsense."
The last of the eggs hissed into the hot skillet. Jean tossed the cracked shell into the trash and wiped off a little yolk on her apron. "I think Scott will appreciate a warm breakfast more than he will watching you eat a popsicle, but that's just me. His wife."
She took hold of the skillet's padded handle, dumping a handful of shredded cheese onto the frying yolk, and slanting the skillet around to mix everything together for an even burn.
Emma hummed consideringly, pushing the popsicle all the way into the mouth, holding onto the stick with two pinched fingers as the dessert slid into her throat, before she pulled it out—bringing her mouth off the popsicle with a sultry smirk directed at Jean. "Maybe so, dear. But Scott was with me. He's only with you now because I want him fucking his way through the X-Men, sharing in all those hot bitches with me. If he were still the boring, faithful boy scout you prefer—the only one he'd be with is me."
"
That's it,"
Jean hissed, dropping the skillet back onto the burner with a clang. "If you like punishment so much, maybe it's time you
really
learn your place."
Emma patted the popsicle against her cheek, giving herself a facial with its melting cream. "Do please try it,
Jean.
