As Brandon was holding on for dear life—his cum-drenched jeans a sticky mess, meaning he'd have to change and shower again (not that he minded when the blue enchantress herself was coming like crazy after grinding on him for minutes now)—"Ahhhhh" were the only sounds that were just magical to hear. "I'm coming again, Brandon—ahhhhh," as Raven said, cumming for the last couple of orgasms she had already had.
How he knew that was because he was not the only one with drenched jeans—as his hands went toward her crotch area (because he just loved the feeling of having his hands there, the warmth and slickness seeping through the fabric). Though grinding like this felt good, he really—like really, really, really—wanted to fuck her right now. So he did by telling Raven, "Rav," Brandon said as Raven turned after her orgasm calmed down. "Yeah?" she said. "Put both your hands on the ground and stick your gorgeous blue jean ass toward me, please," said Brandon—because right now he was having a hard time breathing from trying to control himself.
Raven, who looked at Brandon with a knowing smile, turned and said, "Seems we are going to have to shower again—but for what's coming after this, I really don't think it's going to be needed, huh hon?"
When Brandon heard that, he understood—he was still waiting for his time with Emma, so yeah, showering would be a stupid thing to do. "Yeah, I know, but right now I only want you right now—so let's make sure these hips here don't lie, right Rav?" Brandon said.
Raven giggled at Brandon for using the song's title as his question for ramming her from behind, but she did what he asked—as she bent to place her hands on the carpet floor and stuck her ass out for him to claim, the jeans stretching taut like a second skin, the curve of her cheeks lifting defiantly.
As Brandon saw that Raven was bending down for him, he started taking off his belt to lower his pants down—but as he looked up at this sexy ass waiting for his pounding, he saw that there was a cutout where her pussy was, the edges seamless and inviting, blue lips peeking through like a forbidden flower. Brandon raised his eyebrow, confused—when did she cut that out? Then he widened his eyes, realizing he forgot that Raven could use clothing and texture simulation—basically, she was able to create her own clothing. *How the hell did I forget this? Maybe it's all that sex and grinding eroding my intelligence... nah, I would still take the erosion for more sex and ass spanking.* As Brandon nodded and thought internally, anyway, he grabbed Raven's hips—the denim rough under his palms—and through her cutout on her pussy (lips puffy and glistening, blue folds parting with a wet sheen), he penetrated her slowly.
Raven who felt Brandon's length penetrate her—inch by inch, the thick shaft stretching her with a burning fullness, her walls clenching greedily around him like hot silk—started moaning and shaking a little from the anticipation of his full length, the heat of him filling her like liquid fire. As Brandon was almost fully in, he smiled evilly at a thought—so he did just that: he stopped, and when Raven turned to ask him why, she saw his evil smile plastered on his face. Raven's eyes widened when she realized what he wanted to do—she said, "Bran—" but was cut off from saying Brandon's name as he took his dick out then slammed back in so roughly that Raven flew up by a couple inches from the ground, her body jolting with the impact.
Raven gasped and screamed as Brandon's dick reached all the way into her pussy—a deep, guttural "Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh fuuuuuccckkkk!"—her walls spasming around him like a vice, juices squirting in hot bursts. Brandon laughed. "How does it feel, Rav? As my dick spears you? Mmmm," Brandon said. "Remember yesterday? I didn't—but now you're mine. Welcome to pound town, population... you, babe."
As Brandon said that out loud, he started pounding her—he started going in and out, in and out, over and over again, the sound of her screaming and gasping (*ahh-ahh-ahh*) filling the room like a symphony of ecstasy. The sound of her pussy making squelching or slurping sounds from so much lubrication—*schlick-schlick* with each thrust, her juices foaming white at the base of his shaft—made Brandon's dick feel good, the slick heat enveloping him like molten silk.
As his hands started roaming her ass even when she was wearing jeans, Raven's ass was still a masterpiece—the denim taut and unyielding, but he wanted to feel flesh so he asked—no, ordered—Raven to remove her jeans. "Rav, remove your jeans for me, babe—I want to feel your blue ass cheeks against my crotch. I want to hear it clapping."
When Raven heard him say that—when she was in the middle of her orgasm, her mouth open trying to breathe from this rough pounding—she just let go of her body matter (biomass that she has to create her own clothing) from her jeans. Brandon noticed the jeans dissolving away like melting ice, revealing her bare blue cheeks—plump and flawless, the skin warm and supple under his touch. As her blue cheeks were there for the clapping, he stood there, moving his hands from her hips and shifting them to her upper arms (where her biceps are) for better grip—the muscles firm yet yielding under his fingers.
And when he did, he moved his hips back and forcibly shoved his dick all the way into her pussy—to the point his balls wanted to follow along too, *slap* against her clit. When he did, Raven howled from the sudden penetration—a raw "Aaaaahhhh fuuuuuccck fuck fuck, Brandon fuuuucckkk keep going, I'm coming again!" as Raven lost strength from her legs that started shaking like crazy, it almost looked like she was having a convulsion—that's how much pleasure she was in, her body trembling with electric spasms, juices gushing in hot floods.
But to Brandon, it was not enough—he wanted to see Raven, no, he wanted to see THE MYSTIQUE herself quiver from his pounding. So he didn't hold back at all—he pushed and pushed his dick into her pussy like he was looking for something at the end of the tunnel, *thud-thud-thud* of flesh meeting flesh, her walls rippling around him in desperate clutches. Squelching sounds were sounding louder and louder—*squish-squish* like wet boots in mud—as well as her screams, a crescendo of "Yes... deeper... fuck me!"
As Raven who didn't have her jeans but had her boots and her sleeveless mock-neck plain top and its arm sleeves still on—the fabric damp and clinging, outlining her heaving breasts—the sounds that Raven was giving were harsh breathing with saliva coming out as Raven gasped for air but was pushed out every time Brandon rammed her from behind, her breaths ragged and wet. And as Brandon kept going faster in his pounding—that Raven's eyes started to move inwards, how does he know? Well, he grabbed her throat from behind her from under her arms—fingers wrapping around the elegant blue column, feeling her pulse throb wildly—and made sure to be staring at her face as she went through such a heavy orgasm. Even though her eyes are yellow, you could still make a distinction up close—that's when Brandon noticed that after her eyes went inward and had a goofy smile plastered on her face, her eyes started going back toward her head.
When he told her that he was coming for the last time, Raven answered with garbled sounds as her body started shaking heavily from such an intense orgasm—that Brandon had to hold her better, his arms straining with the effort, her blue skin slick and hot under his grip. Then he came, and she lost it as incoherent words started spilling out like "Shu goaaad" and "Flack." When he finished inside her—but for Brandon that felt incredible, as he was carrying or holding Raven up and kept cumming into her, the warmth flooding her depths in thick pulses—he stayed like that for a while to calm his beating heart from bursting out of his chest. He could even feel Raven's heart beating intensely, a rapid *thump-thump* against his palm.
After minutes passed, Raven was the first to speak. "Bran," she said. Brandon looked up. Raven continued, "I think I might actually need to shower."
Brandon was confused, then felt something wet—or getting wetter—as he looked down to see liquid coming out her pussy, a warm gush mixing with his cum. He realized that Raven peed, the scent sharp and intimate in the air. He looked up to see Raven blushing heavily, contrasting against her blue skin like crimson on azure. He told Raven, "Don't worry—I'm not mad or making fun of you, Raven. That's a normal reaction, okay?" he said as she was still blushing.
So he carried her to the restroom to shower together—15 minutes later of thoroughly scrubbing each other, fingers gliding over slick blue skin with soapy lather, the steam carrying a clean, invigorating citrus aroma—they got out. Raven was still blushing, but Brandon kept telling her it was fine. Then Brandon went to the spot that she peed on to see if he could clean it, and it seemed he could—as he got dressed to do so, Raven told him to wear something that could easily be taken off and easy to grind herself on.
Brandon didn't understand, then widened his eyes as it clicked to him that Raven wanted to do her Emma Frost for him. He smiled and kissed her head. "We could do that later, you know."
Raven stopped him. "Nope," emphasizing the 'p' in nope. "I'm going to pay you back for giving me the best—well, my first best orgasm. After all, you already took my virginity; now you also took my first intense orgasm. So," as she got closer while still wearing her towel around her body—the fabric teasingly loose—"I'm going to give you the best fucking stripper dance you've ever had, especially when I have knowledge of Emma's dance moves." She smiled wickedly.
When Brandon heard that, he knew from where it was: *New X-Men #139 (July 2003) is the first comic issue where Emma Frost's backstory as a stripper/exotic dancer for the Hellfire Club is mentioned and depicted.* As he looked up to stare at his collection of comics, he could literally see where that issue was with the other ones that also depicted Emma Frost's stripper past—like her debut in *Uncanny X-Men #129 (1980)*, portraying her solely as the White Queen without this detail. Later issues like *X-Men: Deadly Genesis #5 (2006)* and *X-Men Origins: Emma Frost #1 (2010)* expand on it with more visual flashbacks. He looked back to Raven and shyly said, "Okay, Rav—I will do that."
As he started walking to his drawer for boxers but then stopped, he thought, *No underwear this time—I already killed two of them. Thank you for your sacrifice; you will be remembered.* So he walked to his closet, looking for his running sweats that could come off by pulling them—soft gray fabric, loose yet clinging in the right places—then grabbed a cotton shirt, and started putting them on.
And when he was done, he turned around to get the cleaning utilities—as he passed by Raven who was opening the Amazon packages 📦, she was still wearing a towel. Brandon said to her, "Rav, you should wear something—you'll get sick."
Raven turned and smiled lovingly. "Darling, I can't get sick," as she pointed at herself. "Remember—mutant," as she said that, Brandon remembered their powerful enhanced biology, and only things like the Legacy Virus or the M-Pox could kill them or incapacitate them.
"Oh," Brandon said, "I forgot—but still."
Raven stopped ✋ him. "It's okay, hon—right now, I'm getting the speaker ready to pair with your phone for the song I found that represents Emma well. And we still need to get the stripper pole up—so shoo shoo and clean that part that I... huh." Brandon stopped her as well, as Raven stared at him with an amused smile.
Brandon said, "Don't worry—I will take care of it. You pair the speaker to the phone; maybe get the picture taken care of as well so your public image is set. I will clean that and get the sofa and pole ready."
So they both got to work with their assigned jobs—as it was already 1:00 p.m., Brandon finished cleaning and placing the pole underneath and 1 foot away from the light bulb, to which the light was adjustable for high and low light. He went straight to the box with the sofa and got that set up—as he was sitting on it, it was very comfortable. He heard Rav call him: "Brandon."
The way his name came out reminded him—as he turned around, he saw the real-life Honey Lemon, who was taller than him at 6'2"—then remembered that Honey Lemon from Disney's Big Hero 6 is described as distinctly tall and thin, with a height of 5'10" (177 cm) without her platform heels, and 6'2" (187 cm) when wearing them. In the original Marvel Comics version, she is listed as 5'7" (1.7 m) tall. So he looked down at her feet and saw the heels—platform soles adding that extra height, her long legs accentuated by the lift. Then he looked up to see her Sunny Sunshine Smile—so he smiled and did the thing he'd wanted to do ever since he saw Star Wars: "Well, Hello there."
And Raven—now Honey Lemon—giggled when she understood the reference, her laugh bright and bubbly like effervescent citrus, her tall frame leaning slightly with mirth.