Thorsome (Patreon)

A peaceful quiet filled the common room. Only small sounds intruded on it occasionally. Lips smacking; fingers brushing over warm, luscious flesh. A low moan fled from Emma’s open lips and Thor’s breath caught as Ororo alternated between kissing his feverish prick and licking the leathery scrotum that dangled beneath its base.

Two of Rogue’s fingers flew in and out of Emma’s hot, wet pussy. The blonde shivered in enjoyment as both Rogue and Ororo pleasured her breasts, Rogue sucking on one, Ororo fondling the other. Their combined efforts made Emma’s sex restless with lust, its folds boiling and convulsing as one violent spasm after another slammed into her receptive senses.

Thor stood before the seated Emma. More than once, Emma would lean forward, taking her hands off the bodies of her two female lovers to grasp Thor’s pounding erection instead. She drew it away from Ororo and up to her lips.

Unlike Storm, who swallowed all of its bulk that she could fit between her lips, Emma only teased the purple glans with her lips and tongue, before turning her attention to the pink lips and dark hand that were enjoying her diamond breasts. Her pussy heaved, her hips restlessly gyrating, her body quivering, and her cunt on fire.

It got her off enormously to have that massive cock on the tip of her tongue, all its power directed at her pretty face. She wondered what would happen if Thor gave into his urges and fucked her face like the barbarian he pretended not to be. Would Rogue and Ororo try to save her from having her airway blocked by that immense endowment? Or would they hold her down as she got what she deserved for taunting a man who could easily enslave her to his manhood?

Less than an hour ago, things had not been so silent…

***

“You think he’s trying to get her to join the Avengers?” Rogue asked.

“I don’t think that’s the staff he wants on her,” Emma replied, the look in her eyes providing the coarseness that her genteel voice didn’t.

Both women were sitting on the couch. Emma had kicked off her heels and it struck Rogue how pretty even her feet and toes were. Emma sat there, one knee raised, her hands holding a delicately sculpted calf in her lap—and it was hard for Rogue not to notice Emma’s groin either, her tight white shorts little more than a pair of panties—ones tight enough to show a bugle that had to be the slopes of her mons.

And the worst part of it was, with Emma’s psychic powers, she had to know how often Rogue’s eyes went to her naked thighs, how they sampled the material of her hot pants like it was a candy dish left out for guests.

I also notice you’re sighing much more than normal for a girl your age, Emma teeped, casually touching Rogue’s knee for emphasis and using only her fingernails so Rogue’s power didn’t affect her. And you squirm when I touch you… but when I stop…

Rogue desperately held in the sigh she wanted to let out then.

Emma tittered. “Don’t worry about it, Rogue. Anyone would be aroused around all that sexual chemistry our dear Storm is having with the Odinson.”

About the only reason either woman was giving the other the time of day was because they were both hungry for gossip and this room looked out over the marble bench where Thor and Ororo were discussing… whatever they were discussing. Neither woman could overhear from within the mansion, but the window in front of them gave them an excellent view of god and goddess’s body language.

“You think he’s here to…” Rogue began softly. “But she just broke up with T’Challa!”

“What better time than now, before she’s swept up in the maelstrom of mutant love lives?” Emma asked rhetorically. “I know I wouldn’t want Wolverine’s sloppy seconds.”

She had reason to be bitter. Scott had recently left her for Jean and the redhead was taking full advantage of all Emma had taught her beau about how sex could paradoxically get much better the less you could move.

It had Emma in a mood to pay Jean back in kind. She hated the nightly ripples of orgasmic ecstasy through the astral plane; there was no call whatsoever for Jean Grey to be sexually satisfied on a more regular basis than the White Queen.

Rogue peered through the window again. Thor was nearly seven feet tall, bristling with muscle. His bulky armor, voluminous cape, and winged helm increased his stature even more. He seemed superhuman—not to the freakish dimensions of the Hulk’s musclebound frame, but not that far away. Every muscle, every inch of him, seemed to have as much power or more than the human body could possibly contain. It reminded her of Captain America, but whereas his strength rested in coolness, Thor’s bristled, smoldered, seemed barely contained.

Storm was much the same way. At six feet of height, her exotic features combined with her poise and elegance to increase the impression of her. Her revealing attire—little more than a caped one-piece—bared her thighs above knee-length boots and her upper body above a low-cut bodice. Her bracers and headpiece further accentuated her statuesque height and long, tawny limbs… even her neck was lissome and graceful. She seemed every inch the icon of power and control that Thor was, even with them having come from very different worlds.

“If they did…” Rogue began thoughtlessly, then stilled her lips. But there was no use trying to hide her thoughts from Emma.

“It would be quite a sight,” Emma agreed, licking her lips at the thought of Thor and Ororo with even more bared than his muscular arms or her slender limbs.

As much as she prized her own vaunted beauty, she was hardly ignorant of how gorgeous her teammate was. A sensualist par excellence, she would happily associate with someone of Ororo’s regal good looks, even if they rivaled her own.

Realizing there was no point in trying to put up a classy front with Emma, Rogue said “And Ororo could use a good roll in the hay!”

Emma smiled widely. “That she could… not that any of us could do without… You know, I can think of a way to help her with that…”

Rogue grinned naughtily herself. “I don’t think Ro needs any help in that department.”

“Oh, but what kind of teammates would we be if we didn’t offer our assistance? Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it…”

Rogue nodded. “Ah… suppose… but how—”

Emma leaned closer to her. “We just have to get the ball rolling; break the ice, so to speak. I know what I’m talking about Rogue, I’m a woman of the world. Thor, of course, he’s used to certain amounts of excess. Feasting on mutton and drinking from tankards and dear lord… who knows what else. And Ororo… well, all that black leather, all those late nights with the Morlocks…”

Rogue blushed. “I’m sure she wouldn’t—”

“And you, Rogue… oh, if you only could… if what were in your skunk-striped head were to spill out of the privacy of your thoughts, why, you’d give Psylocke a run for her money!”

Now Rogue truly flushed, her entire face going red. “A girl can have a fantasy life… ain’t no crime…”

“None at all.” Emma smiled, a literally dazzling smile as her pale flesh shifted to glistening diamond. “We’re all on the same wavelength, we just need to come to an agreement. Walk through an open door, so to speak. And Rogue, you and I can open that door…”

She touched Rogue’s shoulder. Her diamond hand didn’t allow any of her power to escape. It was cool to the touch, but to Rogue—the Southerner had rarely felt anything so warm.

“I can’t tell what you’re thinking when I’m like this,” Emma cooed. “But I can see it in your eyes. Don’t be afraid. Just let Auntie Emma do all the work… after all, tis better to give than to receive…”

And I’ll be receiving plenty once Storm and Thor come back inside, Emma thought, bringing her diamond lips to Rogue’s. She had already reached out with her telepathy… it was only a matter of time…

Rogue didn’t resist. She scoured her mind, seeking out any hint of Emma’s influence, but all she found was a dizzying fog. It was her own body responding to Emma—when the White Queen’s hand caressed her tits, naked under her buttoned-up blouse, her flesh didn’t need any further provocation to quiver and throb.

Her breath came faster and faster. Emma’s fingers reached inside her blouse and caressed her soft, warm skin directly. Fingers tingling on the flesh of her breast—finally pinching her delicate nipple.

Then Rogue was returning Emma’s kiss, giving back her pink tongue in response to Emma’s own, feeling the White Queen suck on it. The two women, experienced and virginal, panted and whimpered together, caught in the same heat.

“What are we doing? Oh, what’s happening?” Rogue asked, her voice murmuring and stuttering to get past Emma’s kisses. Then Rogue was licking the icy contours of Emma’s diamond face, sliding her tongue up over that narrow nose, then down to the corners of lips like a gloriously contoured snowbank. “Why am I doing this? What’s happening to me?”

Emma comforted the trembling virgin, whispering in her ear as she stroked and relaxed her thrilling body—once so pristinely taboo, now far from inviolate as it blushed and sweated and smoldered.

“It’s alright, Rogue, it’s all going to feel good. Just relax. I’m going to take care of you and you’re going to take such good care of me. You’re so beautiful, you’re so ready. I can tell you’re already starting to get off and it’s just beginning…”

Both teasing and reassuring in her slowness, Emma unbuttoned Rogue’s blouse. Rogue found herself helping Emma slip it off her. Then she was naked to the waist.

Her breasts were delectable—firm and upthrust, ripe fruit growing from the slender tree that Rogue’s torso made. Her bosom had nothing of the volume Emma’s did, but the pert handfuls that proudly stood out between her toned belly and sloped shoulders drew the eye like a jubilant invitation.

The way they quaked and shuddered with Rogue’s every panting breath made Emma think irresistibly of how they’d jiggle as she made Rogue come; a fond smile covered her lips. It would’ve frightened Rogue further if the girl weren’t so nervy.

“They’re going to come in… we have to stop… they’ll see us… they’ll think I’m such a slut…”

“What’s wrong with being a slut?” Emma crooned to her, ducking her head to brush her chilled lips across Rogue’s goosepimpled breasts. Rogue purred, almost involuntarily, as Emma soothed and further thrilled her feverish body. “They’ll want you… like I want you… don’t you want them? I see it in your head, pretty Rogue… you’ve thought of both of them that way… but both at once… just trust Auntie Emma… don’t worry, honey… let me give you everything you want.”

Emma’s tongue entered the fray now—caressing and licking—then her full lips closed tightly on Rogue’s untouched nipple—plumbing the depths of how deep Rogue’s sensations could go.

Rogue’s eyes crossed, a fierce sweat breaking out on her brow. She was so unprepared for the heights Emma’s expert touch could bring her to, but she could almost hold in the obscene feelings that boiled in her cunt… so far from where Emma was touching her that she knew they were only hers.

And then Emma’s teeth nipped at the sensitive bud topping her breast. Rogue wailed, tears fluttering from her eyes as the sensation filled her swollen breast, stinging deep to her sex in its intensity.

The next thing Rogue knew, Emma was opening her denim jeans. The crystal-cold fingers went inside her waistband, touching her bare belly, then the sparse hair—itself bisected into white and russet—that protected her vulva.

Rogue chittered, the anticipation spiking in her groin, but already Emma touched lower… the sensitive hood of her clitoris… the delicate lips of her pussy… inside her… Rogue let out a sharp cry!

“Ooooooo, you’re fucking me! Yesssss! Oh Emma, your fingers… Emma, your fingers are fucking me! Agghhhh! OOOOHHHH!”

Emma smiled in satisfaction to herself, knowing that these overjoyed outcries would be the inevitable result of her skills being applied to Rogue’s inexpert body. In the back of her mind, there was only one idle fear: that Thor and Ororo would arrive before Rogue was fully aroused, pleasure rendering her the slut that her enforced virginity had never let her become.

But her intuition told her that it wouldn’t take Rogue long to lose her inhibitions. Certainly not as long as it would take for the gods of thunder to get here.

She couldn’t read Rogue’s mind, but there was no mistaking her own rush—intense, delighted feelings that were anything but blasé, no matter how many men and women she’d been with. Wild, beautiful thrills that intoxicated Emma and would no doubt enthrall Rogue… the girl twisting and writhing in her arms.

Rogue’s tits responded most strongly to her tongue, heaving up with each heavy breath like they were being pulled along by her stiffened, stretching nipples. They simply could not quake more than they already were, so when Emma twisted her fingers deeper into Rogue’s cunt, what became more intense were her vocalizations. She howled, an animal cry, stopped only by Emma clamping her free hand over Rogue’s mouth.

Against her crystalline palm, the yowl went on and on. Emma wished she could listen to it, but that delight she couldn’t allow herself. Unlike her and Scott’s bedroom, these walls were not soundproofed. She did look into Rogue’s eyes as she pushed her fingers in deep and then pulled them slowly from her hot, moist slot… beguiling Rogue into a languid satisfaction as the pleasure chilled to a perfect contentment… then burned hot when Emma pumped back into the depths of her womanhood.

She felt Rogue’s hips twitching, fucking herself on Emma’s fingers, she was so eager to be loved by her. When Emma stilled her fingers, leaving only Rogue’s masturbatory efforts to pleasure her, the girl’s eyes became truly wild. She was about ready to ravage Emma rather than let her enjoyment stop!

“Stand up, my pet. Those jeans have had enough of a say in our interplay. It’s time to remove them from our little tete-a-tete.”

Rogue’s lips were suddenly dry, her eyes darting about without the crackling pleasure of the sex to distract her. She covered her nubile breasts with her hands. “Oh, I… I couldn’t… I’m already… I’m topless! No, no, let’s just… can’t we keep…”

But while she complained, Emma took hold of her jeans and eased them down off her trim hips. Actions spoke louder than words; Rogue did nothing to stop her, even being strong enough to toss an eighteen-wheeler around. She simply lay there and let her pants come off!

“Good girl,” Emma praised, and saw the little hit of dopamine Rogue got at the compliment. “But I can’t do all the work.” She jutted her hips out. “Take my pants off… then my cunt is all yours.”

This was about a minute before Ororo and Thor came inside.