X-Men: Late For The Hellfire Gala (Patreon)

Emma knew she wasn’t strictly speaking the best girlfriend. She had an appetite for drama that was usually sated simply by being an X-Man, but that sometimes she indulged in with Scott. She liked, a little too much, to play games with him and get him to play games with her in turn and this was all maybe not the healthiest way to communicate.

But she was, as commonly agreed, a goddess, so Scott had to make certain sacrifices to be with her. She knew she was worth it. The man could have any woman he wanted. He was with her at least partially for the kinky thrills she gave him. She felt obliged to keep up her end of the deal. He had to know a girl like her would get her kicks somewhere.

“Hurry up and get those pants off, Scott,” Emma demanded of her lover. “I thought she’d never leave.”

Scott fumbled with his jeans. He’d just had a long talk with Rogue, Emma sitting in on it, and though Emma hadn’t used their psychic link to unduly influence him, she’d demonstrated that she didn’t need to.

Just by the way she sat, the way she looked at him, the little expressions on her face—she’d driven Scott almost completely wild. And now that Rogue was gone, he intended to do something about that.

“We’ve got fifty minutes,” he told Emma as he stepped out of his jeans. “After that, I have a Zoom interview scheduled with CNN.”

Emma’s abbreviated costume took very little time to disassemble. She simply unzipped and shrugged off her top, then slid her pants down her legs. They were tailored to come off her high-heeled boots without her needing to take those off. Emma liked to keep her boots on.

“How can you even think about journalism at a time like this?”

“It can’t be helped,” Scott said as he pulled off his shirt. “We don’t get many chances to plead our case in the media. This could really change things.”

“Yes, Scott, I’m sure the five millionth reiteration of Xavier’s spiel will win some hearts and minds,” Emma droned unenthusiastically. She laid down on the bed like a bored housewife about to think of England, though her pointed lack of enthusiasm couldn’t do much to diminish the lust that her naked body instilled in Scott. “Surely more important than taking care of my sexual needs. You really think fifty minutes is enough to satisfy me?”

“It’ll have to do, Em,” Scott shrugged, joining her on the bed.

“Well, start doing me then,” Emma said with a lewd grin, pulling his head down between her full breasts. “Suck my tits and I’ll do the same to your cock.”

Scott tried to compensate Emma for having so little time to devote to her pleasure. He’d known her appetites when he’d gotten involved with her; it didn’t seem fair to deny her urges when he’d so greatly enjoyed them on other occasions.

He rolled her nipples around between his lips and reached down to finger her hot pussy. And even as his fingers entered her, he sucked hard on her breast, just the way she liked him to.

“That’s it, lover. Enjoy my breasts. Pet my little pussy,” Emma moaned. She reached for his prick, gripping the thick shaft and marveling at his size for a moment before she started stroking it.

It only took a little of Scott reciprocating her affection to make her hot. She’d waited all day to be fucked and though she hated to admit it, her forced patience had left her burning with desire. The anticipation heightening how good the sex already was.

“Don’t forget about my mouth, darling. You know how good my mouth is…” she cooed, pulling on Scott’s cock, guiding him to where she wanted him. He came up above her face and she spread her lips hintingly before he plunged his stiff cock into her open mouth.

“GGHPPHHH!” Emma groaned with his prick filling her from her lips to the back of her throat.

She grabbed Scott’s firmly toned ass, digging her long fingernails in it, while her lips pressed down on his rutting member. She sorely wanted to have him fuck her mouth until there was nothing left to give her but his cum, except her cunt begged for the same treatment. Begged harder than her taste buds could.

Reticently, Emma pushed at Scott’s hips to stop the oral coitus. “Fuck my pussy now, Scott—fuck me just like you want to, nothing exotic, nothing kinky. Show me you can get me off just by mounting me and giving it to me hard and fast. I’m too horny to play around. Slam it into me. Get on top of me and make me come from the fucking missionary position,” Emma pleaded, her cultured tones more tremulous now than they could ever be outside the bedroom.

She was pulling Scott on top of her—her old-fashioned, conventional man. He liked to eschew anything fancy; prove that she’d come from something as simple as some curled fingers or a diligent tongue.

Or the fat cock he drove inside of her, stuffing her fuller than full in the first moment of penetration.

“Son of a bitch!” Emma squealed, either in simple obscenity or in reference to Scott.

He’d certainly shown she wasn’t kidding about being too horny to play. Her wet cunt took him all on his first pump, a deep penetration that shook her teeth and sent a tremor of pleasure through Emma that felt more like an orgasm than anything else.

“Let me have it! But pace yourself, darling. This isn’t a quickie… I fucking hate quickies… save it until we’re both done. One time won’t do it, my love, so don’t come until I tell you. I want to come a lot. I want you to make me come a lot…”

Scott didn’t appear to be listening to her, just hammering down into her hot, gripping sex. But his jaw was set, bespeaking the concentration he was bringing to bear. It wasn’t easy for him not to come in Emma’s tight little pussy. He thrust away at that needy target, thinking of anything but sex despite the fact that Emma’s wanton, gorgeous body under him was an all-out offensive of sensuality, begging to be noticed, every glimpse of her pure pornography.

He thought of mathematical equations. He thought of tactics. He thought of mowing the lawn. Then Emma shrieked in climax and it was just impossible to think of anything but her—which was just how she liked it.

“Fuck! You goddamn stud! Do you know what you’re doing to my cunt? You’ve set me on fire! It’s so hot! So fucking deep and I’m coming! No, don’t come, Scott! Fuck me through this big goddamn orgasm only you can give me, Summers, you bastard, don’t you dare come after giving me just one taste of that goddamn dick!”

Scott held back, shocking himself with his ability to rut Emma to the point of screaming climax and still hold back his ejaculation. It was nothing he hadn’t done before—part of the reason Emma grew so desperate to fuck him—but it always seemed to him that he shouldn’t be so controlled with a woman as lascivious as Emma. Yet he always was.

Perhaps it was on some subconscious level that he knew withholding his ultimate affection was what ironically pleased as big a libertine as Emma. She grew outright feverish for it and when she finally got it, it was like Christmas morning for her oversexed system.

Or perhaps it was simply that Scott’s stamina allowed him to give Emma multiple orgasms and she was exactly as much a fan of that prospect as anyone who laid eyes on her would suspect.

And still it wasn’t enough for the voluptuous blonde. No matter how much Scott gave her, she was determined to get more, to drive him to the extremes of whatever passion he could fill their last few minutes with. “Get off me,” she said, pushing him up off her and wiggling out from under him.

Scott groaned, his aching erection now trembling in the air. “We don’t have a lot of time, Em,” he reminded her.

Emma ignored him—or at least, his words. Shifting to her diamond form, the bed creaked under her newfound weight as she shoved him down onto her back. Then she was flesh and blood once more, just in time to seat herself on his upright cock—sliding up and down it of her own ecstatic volition.

“I’m coming!” she said again, after only a few trips to the base of his broad manhood. He proud breasts jiggled as she wildly lifted herself and brought herself back down, forcing another blast of pleasure from the meeting of her body and Scott’s. Her neck muscles stood out while she panted in breath and clawed her fingers into Scott’s broad chest. “More! Fuck me more! Don’t just lie there! Keep getting me off! You’re here to fuck me, remember!?”

Scott grabbed her by the hips, lifted her body up with ease, and then pulled her back down. Emma grunted, completely unladylike, as she was slammed onto his erect prick.

Scott watched her jubilant curves bounce on top of him, her face contort in orgasmic glee, too enraptured to care much about his own pleasure. It was satisfaction enough to have reduced Emma to the ecstatic wreck she currently was.

Emma was virtually addicted to the delight she felt bounding up and down in Scott’s lap, but her hunger for more was insatiable. She allowed herself one last trembling climax and then pulled herself off of Scott, dropping down to kiss him.

“This is the way I want to finish it, lover. Come in me like this,” she trilled, pressing her face down into the sheets and lifting her hot ass into the air.

Gape-mouthed, sucking in breath, Scott arranged himself behind Emma, grabbed her luscious hips once more, and pulled their bodies together—driving his aching prick into her womanhood. His bloated balls were demanding their contents be released and Scott didn’t have it in him to disagree.

Right now, he didn’t care if Emma got her next precious climax or not. If she wanted to come again, she could do it before his endurance reached its limit. Already, the storm of cum inside his scrotum was refusing, louder and louder, to be held inside him any longer…

“You—can’t have been this deep in my cunt before, Scott! Never, not ever!” Emma gasped, shaking her head in disbelief at how thoroughly impaled she was. She reached under her body to play with her clit, knowing that both Scott’s control and his tolerance for her antics was red-lining.

He was going to explode and she had to come with him. As many times as she’d orgasmed already, she was too ambitious to settle for just another bout of rapture when she could climax while feeling Scott’s final eruption inside her.

“Fuck it and come, Scott! I want to feel every drop of cum I can get out of you! I want it all inside me! Come inside me!”

It always turned Scott on to hear the refined, elegant Emma Frost talk so dirty. His hands covered her breasts and pressed them down taut against her chest, squeezing them deeply while a flood of his burning cum departed his scrotum. The ropes of his ejaculation seemed to enter his woman to the same beat as his balls slapped against her toned ass.

“Fuck your cum into me!” Emma cried as her pussy flooded once more. She bit into the bedsheets, content to have finally elicited the fuck she wanted from Scott—now only happily enduring its brutal pleasure.

Scott didn’t stay inside her for long after his cock was emptied. He pulled away from her, wetly withdrawing his cock from her clinging sex, and stumbled over to where he’d left his clothes. “Shit, if I’m not ready for the camera in three minutes, they’re probably going to bump me.”

“You’re such a romantic, my love,” Emma breathed. Irritation could be read into her words, but her voice was simply too satiated to read as discontented.

She’d gotten what she wanted from Scott; she couldn’t expect him to see how much more important that was than paltry micropolitics. And maybe it wouldn’t be as fun if he did.

Scott was at least enough of a gentleman to care that he’d skimped on the afterplay. “I’ll make it up to you later, Em,” he told her, rolling a caressing hand over her round hip before he hurried from the bedroom.

Emma sprawled out and stretched, relishing the sweaty nakedness she got to luxuriate in while Scott had to go to work. For now, she’d savor, but in a few minutes she’d pick up the remote and turn on Scott’s interview. It would be the cherry on top to see him speaking to millions of people after having been inside her so recently that she could still feel the warmth of their rutting friction.

Although the fuck had been hard and fast, and not the delicious unspooling she thought her supple body deserved, Emma still couldn’t remember ever coming so much in such a small amount of time. She wanted another hour of that brisk, furious sex. She didn’t think she’d ever get enough of it.

And though she didn’t know it, Scott was thinking much the same thing, but in hardly the same context. As good as it felt to indulge Emma’s desires, he was getting pretty tired of her deliberately taking advantage of him being at her sexual beck and call. It was never exactly a hardship to be called upon to give Emma an orgasm, but still: it was high time his queen got a taste of her own medicine.