Gesture of Goodwill update (Patreon)

Jean had never ridden Emma quite like this before. As per Ororo’s instructions, Emma was on her hands and knees, something that was for all intents and purposes a human bridle wound around her head, stuffing a combination gag and bit into her mouth to prevent the complaints that would otherwise be ceaseless from flowing.

Jean was on top of her, straddling her naked back as she walked on all fours, carrying her. And the weirdest part of all was that Jean’s pussy was simmering. No, smoldering. Her slender thighs were wrapped around Emma’s sweat-soaked body and Jean couldn’t help but squirm her groin up and down the ridge of Emma’s spine until she felt too much pleasure to do it anymore.

If she kept doing it, she’d come.

That didn’t stop her for long. She knew it was increasing Emma’s disgruntlement, but Jean couldn’t bring herself to care. If Emma kept making a big show of how kinky and slutty she was, then she could put up with being treated as a kinky slut. So Jean moved slowly and sensuously, working herself back into the pleasurable build-up she knew would lead inexorably to climax.

Her thighs tensed and her hips churned. She clung to Emma’s hair, eyes narrowed, lips parted, her face frozen in a look of abject passion. In the dreamy continuity of the psychic plane, she was wearing tiny denim shorts and a tight white T-shirt. There were no panties under the shorts and no bra under the shirt. The crotch of the jean shorts was getting sodden, the material hugging tightly her pubic mound.

Emma sizzled with the situation she’d been forced to endure, her nostrils flaring, her eyes staring straight ahead. She could smell Jean’s arousal and, what’s worse, it was turning her on. She padded more slowly across the ground, not able to concentrate on maintaining the pace when Jean was rubbing her pussy up and down her spine.

A ribbon of Jean’s cream slid from her snatch, running down Emma’s back. Her juices had drenched her shorts, darkening and seeping through the denim, making Emma’s back slippery. Jean took full advantage, sliding up and down on that wetness, moaning softly while pleasure rose out of the kinky contact between the two women. Shudders of joy ran up her taut belly, shot like electrical currents down her thighs.

“Oh!” Jean gasped as she convulsed.

Her engorged clit sparked, setting off a luscious burst of sensation at the core of her body. The redhead jerked spasmodically, rubbing her pussy furiously against Emma’s back. Jean bowed over the blonde, mirroring her bent over pose, then threw her head back, her long crimson hair tumbling behind her like outstretched wings.

The peaks of her orgasm hit her harder and faster, rushing together until they blurred into one delicious plateau. All of Jean’s lavish body shook, her pert breasts jiggling up and down, her toned ass grinding as she forced her sexual delight out of Emma’s body.

Her cream gushed over Emma’s back, dripped down her sides. Emma stopped, but there was no pausing what was happened on top of her. Jean kept humping Emma’s back, working her orgasm off to the last jolt of feeling.

Emma stood rigid, excited and hating it and yet thrilled by the kinkiness of what she was being subjected to. A part of her wished Scott were doing this to her, but she had to admit, her yoga muscles were far better able to cope with Jean’s nubile body than Scott’s large frame.

Jean jerked again, coming so hard it splashed onto the back of Emma’s neck, ran down her shoulder. Emma twisted her head around to lick up some of the dripping liquid.

Jean gasped at the sight of it. The spectacle hit her so hard that another convulsion gripped her body, letting out another spurt of her orgasm onto Emma’s back. Emma mewled—there was only so much of Jean’s cream she could lick up with the bit barring the way to her mouth.

“I hope you liked that,” Jean murmured. “I sure did.”

Emma suddenly bucked, trying to toss Jean off. Jean tightened the grip of her clenched thighs; whimpering as the last wave of her orgasm moistened her pussy. She leaned forward over the back of Emma’s head, a dreamy smile on her lips.

“I guess that was your subtle way of asking for some punishment. But remember that Scott’s the one that’s too nice to do anything but fuck you so, so hard. I’m the one that carries a riding crop.”

She lashed it into Emma’s ass with tremendous satisfaction, the leather slapping into the blonde’s naked flesh with a crisply snapping sound. Emma screamed into her gag, jerked, but she was helpless. There was nothing she could do but take each stroke Jean gave her.

And that realization landed for Jean as well as Emma, the redhead’s eyes widening with delight as she rubbed her sex. Emma pounded her fists on the ground, but already the beat of the riding crop was arousing her. She hated it, but there was nothing she could do to prevent her surrender.

Jean laughed. “Tell me how much you want it, Emma. Say how much you like being my little horsie!”

Emma stared at the ground, horrible lust burning in her, her ass jerking to the rhythm of the riding crop, the skin it hit growing redder and redder, aching with pain and depraved lust. The pleasure that went with the pain rose and surged; Emma knew she was going to come because of it.

Jean knew too. “That’s enough,” she said, working her hand back through the loop on the handle of the riding crop and letting it dangle from her wrist. “We’ve got some ground to cover, don’t we, Emma?”

“We do, Jean,” Ororo said, walking up to the pair of them.

She was responding to their efforts—looking more herself, wearing her X-men costume, her expressions animated with her usual emotion. She swung nimbly onto Emma’s back, behind Jean.

Jean nudged her heels into Emma and the blonde begrudgingly got under way. Telepathy was usually more metaphor than literalism; Ororo ‘riding’ with them was a good sign that she was coming out of her defensive stasis.

Emma felt their two wet pussies rubbing against her back, Jean’s already hot, Ororo feeling the pleasure of having Emma’s athletic body clamped between her legs, putting pressure on her groin. Ororo held onto Jean’s curvy hips for support. Her belly, chiseled with muscle, pressed tight against the slope of Jean’s heart-shaped ass—her full breasts pushed into Jean’s slender back. It was turning Ororo on as much as being on top of Emma.

Grinning innocently, she redoubled her closeness to Jean, rubbing her nipples against the other woman’s back and shoulders, stroking her womanhood on that bouncy little ass of Jean’s. Jean found the contact as exciting as Ororo did. They both squirmed more than they needed to, staying aloft on Emma.

Jean ground her ass back against Ororo’s belly, against her groin. She stroked herself on Emma’s back, heating up her sex. Jean knew she was going to come on Emma all over again and wondered if Ororo would notice. What ideas would it give her as her body shifted on Emma’s back and felt the motion of Jean’s bobbing hips?

Emma trotted along obediently. The trail turned and as she changed direction, Ororo’s hands slid up Jean’s hips, taking her soft, pillowy breasts. Jean’s nipples stood out like bullets, grating against Ororo’s palms. Ororo cupped and kneaded the firm, thrusting flesh.

Emma missed a step, jolting her riders. Ororo’s head tripped forward, placing her chin on Jean’s shoulder. She looked down Jean’s svelte body and blinked in disbelief. The crotch of Jean’s cut-off shorts had plunged into the vee of her lap, her labia spreading to either side of the band of denim meant to hide it. Arousal spilled down the insides of her thighs like twin strings of pearls being lowered down.

“Are you enjoying riding bareback?” Ororo grinned in Jean’s ear. She knew she was. Her own pussy was wet and hot, feeling the pressure of both Emma’s back and Jean’s ass. She caressed Jean’s breasts more ardently, wondering which Jean was getting more pleasure from: Emma’s body or hers.

Jean, though, was too far gone to decide which. She loved feeling Emma beneath her and loved having Ororo play with her tits too. Jean wondered if Ororo wanted more—she wasn’t sure how to suggest it. Emma was the one aggressive enough to usually broach these subjects.

Then the trail turned alongside a small lake, giving Jean an idea. She pulled on Emma’s hair, forcing the blonde to stop.

“How about a swim, ‘Ro?” Jean suggested. “Riding Emma got me so hot and bothered, I just have to cool off.”

“But I like how hot you feel,” Ororo said, her voice husky, reaching down to pet a river of pearly cream running down Jean’s leg. Her own groin was drenched as well; when she smeared the juice into Jean’s skin, her own arousal was being rubbed into her by how she ground her pussy into Jean’s ass.

Jean swung down to the ground, then reached up to offer Ororo a hand getting down. The motion put her face level with Ororo’s crotch and she saw for herself how damp the bottom of Ororo’s costume was. She tilted her head and looked knowingly into Ororo’s eyes.

“I think we need to wash off as much as cool off.”

Ororo ducked her head, hiding her eyes, then smiled and nodded. She slid down beside her friend while Emma regarded them with darting eyes, smelling the fragrance of both their aroused cunts—feeling more than amorous herself.

“I’ll have to remember how good it feels to ride Emma when we get back,” Jean said. “You have a gifted imagination, ‘Ro. Wanna show me what else you’ve been pondering down here in your subconscious?”

Her eyes roamed over Ororo, taking in her voluptuous figure, then sliding down to her wet panties. She was going to cool Ororo off, alright, but the process was going to have nothing to do with the water…

***

Emma only watched for a few minutes before dividing her attention, withdrawing most of her consciousness back to reality while leaving behind a token presence. She could admit that Jean and Ororo were quite lovely, but found voyeurism a tawdry kink. She much preferred being an exhibitionist to someone else being the center of attention.

The infirmary was darkened with the night; they must’ve spent hours inside Ororo’s head, working away at her condition. The X-Men had left them to their business for the night, all but Scott. Either the man had finished any work that could divert him away from them or he wasn’t able to focus at all when both his girls were at risk. He sat in a chair against the wall, resting, his ruby quartz glasses ready to focus on the three beds where Jean, Emma, and Ororo lay incommunicado—waiting for the slightest change.

Emma gave him one, opening the psychic link between them and feeding him all the sexual frustration that Jean and Ororo’s little tryst had filled her with; was still filling her with, as her mind’s eye watched them at play in the lake.

Scott jolted to full awareness, hard-cocked and wide awake, to see Emma naked, on all fours over Ororo’s comatose body, her ass presented to him with a handy bottle of medicinal lubricant waiting between her knees.

“Honey,” she whispered, swaying her ass back and forth in the air to make it a tempting target, “will you do something for me?”

“What?” Scott asked.

Emma pouted, softening her voice to a babyish coo. “Will you fuck me in the ass? Please?” she pleaded.

Scott was unable to believe his good fortune. He tugged his zipper down to release his sudden, throbbing erection in answer.

Emma turned away from him, looking at the moony smile Ororo had on her sleeping face while she and Jean mentally frolicked. Let them think about sex all they wanted. Emma was going to get the real thing.