New Mutant

A dozen or so students filed out of Jean Grey's classroom, passing Professor Charles Xavier who greeted them each as they proceeded to their next classes. The bald man waited patiently in his hover-chair for the last of them to go by before mentally urging the silent chair into her classroom. The lean, red-haired beauty, one of his first students and longest-tenured X-Men, was stacking papers while an eraser moved, seemingly of its own volition, over the chalkboard behind her. Jean was a powerful telepath and telekinetic, and was multitasking again. Charles smiled with pride; he had taught her well. She noticed his entry and beamed at him.

"Professor," she said, greeting him formally. "So nice to see you. How can I help you?"

"I've asked Storm to join us," he replied. "She should be here any second." As if on cue, Ororo Munroe, a mocha-skinned, gorgeous woman codenamed Storm, came into Jean's classroom. "Ah, here she is."

"I heard your summons, Charles," she said. "I got here as soon as I could."

"Now that you're both here," he said, maneuvering so he could face them both, "I'm sending you both on a mission." The women looked at each other and back to Charles as he continued. "Cerebro has picked up a very powerful mutant signature, but I'm having a bit of a problem identifying who it might be."

"Where is it coming from," asked Jean.

"JFK," he replied. "I'm deducing that this mutant has only recently arrived in the country. I've not felt this signature before, but I want you two to take a car down there and see if you can't make contact."

"Do you think they might be hostile," asked Storm. Jean nodded her approval of the question.

"I'm uncertain," said Charles, "however, there are no police reports or any other indications that would lead me to make that conclusion." The two X-Men glanced at each other. "I'm sending you both just to be safe. I can think of few threats the two of you would be unable to handle." The ladies smiled at the compliment. "See if you can't persuade this individual to return with you, and I can better evaluate him or her once they're here."

"You got it, Professor," said Jean. Turning to Storm, she smiled and, in unison, they said, "Road trip!"

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood patiently in the line for Customs at JFK. He was not in a hurry, like so many of the people whose minds he could sense around him. He was also not nervous, like so many of them were. Most of the faces he could see around him had been on the same flight from Cairo on which he had arrived, and most were Egyptian like him, or of some other middle-eastern descent. America had not been the most welcoming place to people who looked like he did, especially young men. His papers were all in order. He was not taking any unnecessary chances, having saved and planned so long to get to New York. Besides, he had chosen a line with a young woman working the booth, so he would have an advantage if he needed it.

"Next in line," she yelled in his direction. He approached her glass enclosure and set down his brief case.

"Hello," he said, handing her his passport. His voice was a smooth baritone and he spoke with a mild, British accent. The woman took his passport mechanically, opened it to check the photo, glanced up at the young man, and stopped everything. He smiled radiantly at her, his perfect white teeth standing out against his black, closely-trimmed moustache and goatee and his smooth, olive-skinned face. His bright, green eyes twinkled at her under strong brows. "How are you today?"

"F-Fine," she stammered. "No, good. I mean, not 'no good', but good, really good." Her cheeks were flushing as she continued to embarrass herself, wondering why she was all of a sudden smitten like she was still in middle-school. "What are you doing here? I mean, what is the purpose of your visit?" She couldn't break away from his intelligent, friendly eyes; and those lashes. She swallowed hard.

"Oh, pleasure, I assure you," he said in a conspiratorial purr, leaning in a little closer and propping his strong chin on one well-manicured hand. She tittered involuntarily, before catching herself and trying desperately to regain her composure. He diminished the mutant effect he was having on her so she could at least pretend to focus on his paperwork. She seemed to shake it off a little, breaking away from his gaze and returning to his paperwork.

"Ah, er, yes," she said, shuffling his paperwork around and steeling her nerves. She had been getting a little damp, and would have plenty to think about tonight when she fingered herself to orgasm. "Mister, um, Saíd. How long is it?" She looked up in embarrassment the second the words were out of her mouth. His eyebrows were arched, but the amused look was still there. "Your visit! How long is your visit?"

"Ah, yes," he said, thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. She was attractive enough for normal men, probably very pretty under their standards, but he was not a normal man. "At least a month, I should think. Perhaps more; I'm applying to a university upstate." She was stamping the various pages and documents by now, her hands shaky but falling into their usual rhythm. She didn't dare to look up again.

"Oh? Which one," she asked casually, handing him back his papers.

"Xavier Institute," he replied. He retrieved his brief case, gave her a wink with that wicked grin, and left, feeling her eyes on his retreating form.

Jean and Storm had parked the passenger van in short-term parking and were slowly walking the concourse toward the security area where international passengers emerged into the regular portion of the terminal. Jean was linked with Xavier's awareness of the mutant's location through the massive Cerebro device which amplified the Professor's mutant ability to detect other mutants. The person they were trying to find should only be a few hundred feet ahead, but in the crowded airport, they could be as close as five feet before they knew it.

Not being a known combat situation, the ladies had dressed in comfortable upscale clothes befitting the posh, suburban professionals they were supposed to be. Jean had a jade, button-up, silk blouse and a matching knee-length skirt that accentuated her hair color and showed off her shapely legs. Ororo wore off-white, sleeveless top and matching slacks, with a chocolate belt which hung loose around her slender waist. The luxuriant fabric glowed in contrast to her cocoa skin, her white mane completing a very striking image. The two beautiful women were drawing many appreciative looks from the men in view of them. Jean was vaguely aware of random, salacious thoughts that were forefront in many of their minds. She had to open her normally impenetrable defenses somewhat to facilitate the link with the Professor.

"Anything, Jean," Storm asked as she scanned faces coming toward them.

"We're close," she replied. "Any time now." They walked maybe ten more feet before the crowd parted just right and they saw him. Both women stopped and admired the sight. He was probably 6'3", maybe 200 pounds, in a charcoal gray business suit with his suit jacket slung casually over one shoulder and a nice leather briefcase in the other hand. He was gorgeous, with a lean, angular face, and one of those haircuts that looked like he didn't even try, but came off spectacularly. His broad shoulders and muscular arms filled the tailored shirt and his stylish ruby tie pointed right down to his crotch.

In her head, Jean 'heard' the Professor say,

"What's that, Jean? I'm having trouble sensing what's happening."

Jean had been staring at the bulge in the young man's pants as he strutted toward them, and she had nearly lost the delicate control required to maintain the link.

"We found him, Professor,"

she told him.

"We're fine. I'm closing down the link."

She didn't need the Professor, the man who had essentially raised her, to be monitoring her thoughts while she ogled a young stranger.

Storm turned to look at Jean, mouthing, "Wow," silently at Jean. Jean gave her a subtle glare and motioned her head to get Storm to focus on the mission. Storm gave her a guilty smile and turned back to face the tall, dark stranger.

"I presume you ladies are looking for me," he said as he stopped a respectable yard away from Storm. She found his smooth, resonant voice to be very pleasing, and extended her hand in greeting.

"I'm Professor Munroe," she said, "and this is Professor Grey," she said indicating Jean who had come up next to her. His soft hands were strong and warm, and she almost didn't let go when Jean reached out to shake his hand.

Even with her defenses back in place, Jean could feel this young man's presence with her telepathic awareness; this was a very powerful mutant, just as the Professor had predicted. She took his hand in a polite handshake and felt an almost electric tingle run up her arm. It was not telepathic, but something that was pleasurable and subtle. Her heart skipped a beat, in the same way it had when she had first met Logan. This man had an animal magnetism that was unmistakable.

"As-salāmu ʿalaykunna," he said, greeting them both. "My name is Omar Saíd. I'm very pleased to finally meet you both." The women glanced at each other in mild surprise. "I apologize if my familiarity has offended you. I know that for most of the world, you are not known to them as anything but educators, but for those like us," he said, indicating Jean Grey, "you and your colleagues are quite renowned. I have been looking forward to this since my gifts were bestowed upon me." He released Jean's hand finally, as it seemed she might not of her own volition.

"Then you're a telepath," she asked, "like me?"

"An empath," he replied. "I can feel what others are feeling. It's not as informative as telepathy, and communication is limited to expressions of feeling, rather than words. It is, however, less intrusive."

"Less intrusive," Storm asked. "I don't see how feeling their feelings could even be intrusive." Omar looked at Jean before choosing his words.

"Normally," he said, "those I am in empathic contact with, have no idea that I can feel them." Jean was nodding her agreement with the description. "But by focusing outward, I can also alter their emotions." He seemed almost embarrassed at the admission. Storm looked at Jean, realizing the implications.

"It would be much more difficult for the other person to detect the effect," Jean explained. "Most people don't possess the emotional awareness to understand how and why their feelings change."

The three had been strolling toward the exit and were passing a ticket counter where an irate mother of three small children was screaming at the gentleman behind the counter, all the while doing her best to keep the toddlers in her control, while the infant in the stroller was crying inconsolably.

"Ma'am," the agent was explaining patiently, "there's nothing I can do for you. This is an FAA rule. Your infant must have its own seat now. I know you were able to have a child in your lap in the recent past, but that is no longer the case, and you will have to purchase another ticket." The woman was beside herself in frustration, and was close to tears. Omar Saíd stopped and made certain Jean and Storm were watching.

"Observe," he said, and leveled his gaze at the young family. The infant stopped crying almost immediately, and the two restless toddlers became settled and clung to their mother's side. The woman noticed her suddenly contented and obedient children and couldn't help but smile. Her scowl vanished and she took a few calming breaths before wiping her eyes and getting out her pocketbook.

"I'm so sorry," she said, checking the young man's nametag, "Dennis. I know it's not your fault." She was still sniffling a bit, but chuckled at herself. "I don't know what came over me." She proceeded to explain herself and pay for another ticket home to her husband. Jean and Storm looked in open admiration at Omar, who was smiling in quiet confidence, seeming to have barely exerted any effort to defuse the situation.

"That was," Storm paused, still astonished, "amazing!" The three mutants renewed their slow walk through the crowd.

"I'm not certain I could have managed it," admitted Jean. "All four of them at once," she guessed, looking at Omar as they walked. He nodded at her assessment. "And, probably, four different sets of feelings?"

"As you say, Professor," he replied formally. They reached the baggage claim area and found a discrete place to wait.

"Any emotion," Storm asked, clearly pondering the possibilities.

"I have very little experience moving people from a positive state to a negative one," he replied, "but I'm certain I could manage almost any emotional state of mind." He looked pensive. "It is unethical to use my gift for harm, but occasionally I have found pushing someone into a more...intense state of mind can be what the situation requires."

"The Professor will be able to help you explore the limits of your power," Jean assured him. "And you seem to have a good start toward using it wisely." She considered other related abilities for a few seconds before a thought struck her. "What about pain mitigation?" Saíd looked at her in mild surprise.

"You are as brilliant and perceptive as you are lovely," he said politely. Jean blushed and looked at Storm, who was clearly envious of his attentions. "I am able to alter many nerve sensations as well."

"Can you only work with pain," Storm asked, suddenly very intrigued by the new development. "Or can you, well, heighten other sensations?"

"'Ro!" Jean looked around as if they had been caught smoking cigarettes behind the gym.

"What," Ororo balked. "We're supposed to explore the limits of what he can do, right?" Saíd looked at both women as he gently increased his effect on them. Saíd could have bedded the Customs Agent as easily as he had the Flight Attendant, but this would prove a much greater challenge than they had. He could feel their sexual attraction to him, and was inclined to see how effective he could be on these statuesque, mutant beauties. Finally, these were women truly worthy of his attentions.

"Please," he said to Storm, "with your permission, I can give you a very mild demonstration." She looked at Jean, who gave her a noncommittal shrug. She turned to face Omar, nodding for him to proceed. "Your abilities effectively prevent you from feeling cold due to external temperature, am I right?"

"It has to be extreme cold of an unnatural source," she replied. "But you're correct, yes." Saíd focused for a split second, and raised gooseflesh up Storm's back and down her arms. "Oh! By the Goddess!"

Storm shivered and held out her arms so they could all see her pores puckered up. Jean looked at Omar in admiration.

"I didn't feel it get cold," Jean exclaimed. "It's nerve induction, isn't it? They don't experience the condition, but they feel it." Omar smiled at her again.

"As you say, Professor." Omar noticed the carousel moving and excused himself to retrieve his bag. Storm had rubbed her arms back into a normal condition.

"I haven't felt that sensation in more time than I care to remember," she told Jean. "Can you imagine the possibilities?"

"I don't have to," she scolded, "your thoughts about him are kind of hard to block out. He's half our age, 'Ro." Storm looked at Jean with a skeptical glance.

"And how old is Logan," she asked Jean. "We have both been on the other end of May-December." Both women sighed as they watched Omar return with his bag. "I wonder what other sensations I haven't felt in a while he could help with."

"'Ro," Jean said to her friend, "Just make sure they're your feelings, okay?" Omar joined them, smiling with enthusiasm.

"Shall we," he asked. Ororo was fairly certain they would.

"I'll drive," Jean told them, a little jealous now that she knew her friend was going to seduce this lovely young man. "You two can get better acquainted." She keyed opened the sliding door for Omar and winked at Ororo as he slid into the spacious rear of the custom van. The vehicle hummed to life and moved smoothly out of the garage into traffic, heading north toward North Salem.

Jean closed the privacy screen between the front seats and the rear cabin, and tried to focus on the road. Ororo was her best friend, and it would be difficult to screen out her feelings, especially if they became intense. Jean, like Saíd, was also a powerful empath.

Storm sat in one of the captain chairs, swiveled to the rear and facing Omar who sat on the rear bench. The young man admired the interior, feeling the smooth leather upholstery and exuding his abilities toward the very attractive companion across from him.

"So you can feel my emotions," she said. Omar looked as if he belonged in the back of a limousine. She was becoming very aroused.

"Oh, yes," he said. "You were attracted to me before we even spoke." He stared into her beautiful face. "I'm getting the sense you want the feeling reciprocated."

"I think you're right," she said, playing coy. "Do you find me attractive?" She moved her hands lightly over her slacks, caressing her thighs, trying to decipher how much of her arousal was of her own doing.

"You are a goddess," he said. "How could I not?" He slipped out of his suit jacket and watched her enjoy his attention. He was feeling her arousal and was certain she intended to act upon it, but this was someone who would likely be in his life for some time; it would not be wise to push her. "I only wonder what a goddess might want from a mere mortal, such as myself." He smiled, sensing that the roleplaying pleased her.

"Hmmm," she purred. "Only what any goddess wants from her subjects; please me." She licked her lips and moved her hands up onto her stomach as she leaned back in her seat and felt the warmth spreading within her.

"As you say." Saíd amplified Storm's growing stimulation as he removed his tie and unbuttoned his collar and cuffs. Storm groaned and plunged her hands between her legs as a wave of intense pleasure crashed into her.

"Ooh, yes," she moaned. She had felt the sudden oncoming of intense sexual arousal before, but this man hadn't even touched her. His ability to predict what would stimulate her and get just the right degree and application of sensation into her nervous system was unparalleled. She couldn't keep her hands from wandering her body as she writhed in pleasure.

"You are truly a beautiful woman," he said as he felt her through his power. This was rare for her, he could sense; so much self-control in her everyday life. "You are a powerfully sexual creature, and have denied yourself for too long." He had removed his shirt now, exposing his well-built, smooth chest.

Omar sat on the edge of the bench, focused and intent on her, watching as she rubbed her hands across her hard nipples under her blouse, feeling her squeeze her breasts through his abilities and enhancing it for her. Sending the sensations into her loins, and swirling the feelings around, coaxing, teasing, raging at times. Always using her own feedback to guide his manipulations.

She opened her eyes to watch as he worked his mutant ability on her. He had stripped to the waist, and she could see his arousal as well, his small nipples hard, and his large cock visible in his trousers. Storm ripped off her blouse with abandon and flung herself at Saíd across the spacious compartment.

Omar brought her into a kiss as her hands flew over his body, greedily finding his cock through his pants. He undid her bra, releasing her modest tits. He could feel the fabric of his pants rubbing on her nipples through his bond. She was dripping with her wetness, and it took only a small impetus to push her to want out of the rest of her clothes.