SCARLET SONJA SPIRAL SILVER Chapter 16 (Patreon)

Emma sat down in Cerebro’s chair, barely able to still her restless thighs. She didn’t know what would be better, peeking in on Scott and Betsy tearing into each other like two animals, or catching Jean as she enacted her revenge. 

The interface of Cerebro—the feel of it amplifying her psychic powers—was unfamiliar and a bit heady. She forced herself to become used to it. If Xavier could use it, she certainly could. And subtly enough that Betsy wouldn’t even realize she was doing it. 

Pushing through the collective unconscious to Betsy’s particular mindset, Emma found herself in luck—or perhaps worldly acknowledgment of her superlative skill and daring. Betsy was actually sleeping in Scott’s arms, her hand at his crotch. All of her feeling his hard, lean body, while her fingers rested around the pulsating thickness of his fat, meaty cock.

“Oooh,” Emma moaned, squeezing her thighs together. The paradoxical input of Betsy’s well-sated lust and Emma’s own unfulfilled pussy made her hornier than ever. She reached down to rub at her sex. Her cunt was on fire, begging to be filled. Emma made a low groan and then gave Betsy and Scott a push…

***

Betsy dreamt. In the depths of it, she could hardly remember Scott, his infidelity, the fact that he wasn’t hers. She only knew the feel of him, deliciously warm and comforting, smooth and muscular, soft and firm—all depending on where she touched him.

Betsy felt the probing sensation between her legs, a searing touch that seemed to reach up inside her and fill her up as much on the inside as she was wrapped up on the outside. Then a wet mouth was against hers and her lips were open, letting it, him, in there too.

“Scott!” she gasped, opening her eyes.

He petted his hands over her lithe body, smiling as her warmth tingled in his fingers. “Morning,” he whispered, nuzzling his mouth into the hollow of her throat.

Betsy could hardly believe it. Last night had seemed like a dream—now he was lying next to her, his manhood throbbing against her hips.

“Morning,” Betsy replied uncertainly. After all the flirting, all the innuendo, somehow it seemed even more strange to be in bed with him. “Scott, are we okay?”

He kissed her neck tenderly. “Of course.”

“What about… everything else?”

“I don’t know. All I know is I feel relieved for the first time in a long while. Maybe that’s part of the problem, but whatever the solution is, I don’t have to think about it right now. I don’t want to think about it. I want to keep being with you, feeling this way.”

Betsy snuggled closer to him. “That’s fine, love. You don’t have to decide anything. Neither do I. This can just be our little escape.”

“And what if it’s more than that? What if this isn’t just some stolen moment?”

“Oh, Scott!” Betsy moaned.

Scott smiled ruefully. “I’m breaking my own rules—giving you heightened expectations. Maybe I should shut up and enjoy myself.”

He rolled on top of her, spreading her legs with his knees.

“Enjoy yourself all you want,” Betsy breathed.

“I’ll try to make things pleasant for you as well,” he said laconically, fitting his engorged cockhead to the lips of her cunt.

“Oh bloody hell!” Betsy keened as he went into her.

Where once Scott had seemed set on ignoring her, resisting all her advances, now he couldn’t get enough of her. His passion was beyond all control. He savagely gripped Betsy’s shoulders and pulled her to his naked body, his arms circling her back. He locked his lips fiercely to hers, pushing his tongue deep into her mouth while he ground his hips between her thighs, his cock deep inside her, claiming her, erasing all doubt from her flailing mind.

Underneath him, Betsy ran her hands down his muscular back until she was cupping his firm ass, squeezing his buttocks to get him deeper into her pussy. “You’re the best, Scott, oh baby—the best!”

He lowered his mouth to her neck, digging his teeth into her soft flesh. Betsy stiffened under him, cooing as he gently sucked at the flesh he’d captured. He released it—Betsy moaned even louder as relief from the gentle pain flooded into her. Then Scott’s kisses made a trail down to her swollen breasts. He molded his lips to her left areola, feeling the firm nipple throb against the roof of his mouth.

“Oh God! Oh Lord!” Betsy gasped with pleasure. “Fuck me, Scott!”

She reached down to clutch his hairy balls, squeezing them hard. They quivered against her grip, the boiling cum ready to fill her pussy.

“Betsy, you’re so damn tight!” Scott groaned.

“Anyone would be bloody well tight when you’re shagging them!” Betsy cried, feeling the thickness of his endowment pump inside her.

She writhed about ecstatically as his massive prick pistoned into her, a savagery she hadn’t thought possible. His lean body crashed against her, his flesh punishing hers as they wetly slapped together.

“Fill me full of spunk!” Betsy sighed, her pussy tightening on his pumping manhood with all the orgasmic force it could muster. “Fill this cunt up, it’s yours! This cunt is yours!”

Scott had no answer; he froze in sudden release. Every muscle, every nerve locked in the combination of agony and relief. He wasn’t aware of speaking. “Now! God, Betsy, now!”

She came again, her pleasure forced to a higher level by Scott flooding inside her, filling her with thundering gushes of his seed. They were in a duet of sensation, their voices crying out in tortured ecstasy.

Betsy rocked hungrily up against Scott’s thrusts, her fingers dug into his flesh. She almost threw him off her, off the bed with her wild gyrations. Her pussy seemed to suck harder at his spurting cock with each ejaculation it gave her. He gave into its hunger.

“Hhnn—Betts!” Scott croaked, lunging deep into her, almost to her womb, and emptying the last of his thick, heavy jism directly into her.

They lay there gasping, becoming aware of their bodies throbbing like jungle drums, their pounding heartbeats competing with each other. The experience had lost none of the savor they remembered from that first forbidden touch.

***

Jubilee peeked her head into the Cerebro chamber. Emma’s moans and sighs made it clear what she was experiencing, but an array of screens built into Cerebro proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt. As if Betsy and Scott were somehow filming themselves, Jubilee could see the lovely sight of his enormous cock vanishing into Betsy’s pink pussy lips, possibly fucking her British brains into yet another body. On another screen, Betsy went down on Scott, gulping him down so thrillingly that Jubilee’s pussy quivered. Was it what Betsy was planning to do? A memory? A fantasy?

That lucky bitch Emma. Was she living out Scott’s experience or Betsy’s? Or both of them at once? Jubilee had always thought she was a pervert, but maybe being a pervert wasn’t so bad. Betsy and Scott certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves, no matter what screen Jubilee looked at…

Barely able to restrain herself, Jubilee pressed a hand firmly against her sex. It didn’t help at all. Usually she’d get some relief from the raging desire inside her, but this time it was more like gasoline feeding a fire. All touching herself did was make it clear she needed much more than a few fingers to sate her lust.

“Would you move?” Paige demanded in a harsh whisper. “I want to see!”

“Yes,” Monet agreed in her chilly tones, soft and cutting as was her usual blend. “Haven’t you grasped what’s going on yet? If you haven’t, give us a chance to crack it.”

“I’ll crack you,” Jubilee snapped, but begrudgingly pulled herself away from the doorway. 

The last thing they needed to do at a time like this was squabble. If Emma figured out they were spying on her, it would ruin everything. Instead, they needed to take turns enjoying this unexpected bounty. That was the mature thing to do, and decisions like that were why Jubilee was team leader.

“You’re not team leader,” Monet said snidely as Paige went to look through the cracked door.

“Stay out of my head, M-word,” Jubilee spat, struggling to keep her voice down.

Paige peered inside Cerebro at how Emma was pleasuring herself and what she was pleasuring herself to. “Lord almighty. Ms. Frost is filthy.”

Monet crossed her arms smugly, letting Jubilee read her superior expression like they were teeping to each other. Monet didn’t mind going last. Monet lorded her patience over everyone else. Monet let them have their way because she was more mature and the two of them were babies.

Jubilee felt her arousal turning to ire, little multicolored sparks leaking from her yellow-gloved fingertips. “If you’re so mature,” she muttered, “why don’t you rot already?”

***

Betsy went to the bathroom. For a moment, she considered leaving the door open, thinking of how nice it would be to have Scott’s access to her be unfettered no matter what—that she could be his without reservations. But perhaps that was a little much, even for an interlude as shocking as this one. Scott was the reserved sort, after all, and she was British. 

She sat down on the toilet and swiped up some toilet paper to take care of the cum he’d deposited inside her. How earthy it was. How tiring. The fuck had returned whatever exhaustion she’d rid herself of in her sleep. She wanted to go back to sleep.

Betsy went back into the bedroom and found Scott out of bed, dressing himself. Either he was a morning person or just utterly unable to sleep in. She laid down on the mattress, still hot with his body warmth, and pulled the sheets over her naked body. But not quite all the way.

“Going for reinforcements?” she teased him.

“Firewood,” Scott replied.

“I thought we had firewood.”

“You can never have too much.”

Betsy nodded. She didn’t need to be psychic to know Scott needed to do something to clear his head. And of course, it would be something like chopping wood. And afterward, he’d be all sweaty and musky—she’d be fresh-faced and new from her little catnap. Oh yes, she wouldn’t be giving him back to Jean anytime soon.

He bent over the bed to kiss her like she was Sleeping Beauty. She kissed him back. Her body reverberated. It surprised Betsy how much she needed him already, how she swooned when he patted her cheek and smiled at her. 

“Get some rest. You never know when you’ll get a chance to sleep.”

“Not often, one hopes,” Betsy retorted, and he walked out.

Betsy heard the front door close and, for some reason, sighed and relaxed. Perhaps the fever pitch of the affair was taking some getting used to. 

There was a radio on the nightstand. She turned it on, the news, but she was too distracted to listen. She put on some music instead, classical. It didn’t lull her back to sleep. Instead, it cleared the cobwebs from her weary head. She felt the same impulse Scott must’ve. She had to move, as if the guilt from this unfaithfulness was a projectile and she had to get out of its way. Or maybe the bed just didn’t appeal to her too much without Scott in it.

She went back to the bathroom, yawning, rubbing her eyes. Betsy looked at herself in the mirror. Not her face, but not a bad one either. She looked beautiful and well-used. Her eyes were bleary. She smiled regardless. She’d wanted this. Life was good. And even if it didn’t work out, at least she’d assuaged her curiosity. If it did work out—

She imagined this cabin as her and Scott’s cozy little home out in the country. Far enough from the cities, and the X-Men, to hear the crickets at night. She’d like the isolation. She’d like being alone with Scott.

Dipping into her travel bag, Betsy retrieved her toothbrush and cleaned the night out of her teeth. After that, she went to the ‘kitchen’ and had some cold water—one luxury that was in ample supply. She washed herself at the sink and dried herself with a towel… quite a comedown for an aristocrat, but she was more used to roughing it than people might think. She brushed her hair, then finally put on a robe from her overnight bag. 

That was it, then. Whatever she was doing with Scott, the first phase of it was over. They’d finally stopped making love, at least for this round. It made her half wish that Scott would rush back into the cabin, hoist her up onto the cold stove, and take her right there.

Betsy heard a noise, jarring her from her imaginings. Or maybe it was her overactive imagination. Coming back to herself, she felt the sleekness of her vulva, telling her that her lust for Scott hadn’t dimmed, it had just been temporarily sated. And not for long, either.

She looked around for a coffeemaker and saw that Scott had set a fresh pot to simmering. She started opening the kitchen cabinets, looking for a mug, and then she heard another noise. This time she knew that it was inside the cabin. It had to be. It was the sound of a creaking floorboard.

“Scott?” Betsy asked hopefully, even desperately, willing away the knot of fear that was now in her chest. Then Jean Grey appeared in the doorway. Grinning.

“Wrong Summers,” she said. 

***

Elsewhere, sophisticated instrumentation picked up the thoughts of Scott, Betsy, and Jean, but they didn’t show them to Emma, or even to Monet, Jubilee, and Paige Guthrie. These voyeurs were of an entirely different breed…

“Magnificent, magnificent! This has it all! Drama! Sex appeal! Imminent violence! Film everything! Every angle! I want a commercial break every thirty seconds! For stuff this good, they’ll wait! And as soon as it’s over, we announce a spin-off. Yes, I want to redo this whole thing, bigger, better, more inclusive, more toyetic, maybe a talking animal! Didn’t that Kitty kid having a talking dragon?”

“It didn’t talk, sir. And she’s in Europe.”

“Oh bomb, bomb! Okay, we’ll do something else. A horse, maybe, or the Hulk. Something hulk-ish but that we can get insurance on. And with sex appeal!”

“She-Hulk, sir?”

“Maybe, maybe. For now, I want our spin-off squads ready to go. Everyone locked down for interviews and a reunion special! That’ll bring ‘em back for the reruns! If they even think of some dumb, dinky, friendly love conquers all ending… bleh! Send the troops right in. We can’t resolve this love triangle too quickly! It’d be suicide! In fact, we should add a few more angles to it. Make it a love double triangle!”

“A square, sir?”

“Whatever! Where’s that Wolverine guy—is he in Europe too?”

“Unclear, sir. We’ve had reports he’s in Japan, Canada, Madripoor, the Savage Land, the Land That Time Forgot, the Land of Plenty…”

“Bah! Okay, okay, okay, save that for sweeps week. And let’s do some market research, see if there’s any audience for getting some gay men in there. If there are, we’ll see what we can do, if not, we’ll have the straights do anal sex. Pretty much the same thing, right?”