Darcy and Logan’s date had been going perfectly. After Friday’s classes as Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters were over, they had gone out on the town. Logan somehow managed to convince Darcy to take a ride with him on his motorcycle. No old nemeses popped up to inconvenience them. There were no missions that night.
They had gone to this shady bar where no one recognized them for being mutants, X-Men, or super heroes; and if anyone did recognize them for any of those endeavors, they didn’t hound them about it. They smoked an entire pack of cigars, going back and forth between trying to drink each other under the table and then just leisurely enjoying their drinks. The bartender never cut them off because Darcy used her telepathy to convince him otherwise, so the bar ended up using five bottles of wine and many more bottles of whiskey trying to satisfy them.
Sometimes shooting pool and sometimes throwing darts, the couple mostly talked to each other. That is, they talked dirty to each other. The other patrons at the bar avoided where they were because of that, and also because both couples seemed rather intimidating. Maybe it was the way the man radiated an attitude that promised trouble, or maybe it was the way the woman’s smile was beautiful but her teeth looked particularly sharp like her nails. Perhaps it was the fact that they weren’t afraid to kiss in front of audience, that she would sit on his lap and he’d slip his hand under her blouse and her skirt, that he would be pulled into her lap and she’d nearly unbutton his shirt all the way before he could escape her grasp and button his shirt back up, but she would just start the game over again. No one dares to say anything to them, and those who thought about soon thought about something else for some reason (that reason being Darcy’s telepathy).
When they were finished teasing and flirting with each other at the bar, their foreplay over, they left after paying their tab and giving the bartender a hefty tip. They were only slightly buzzed despite how much they drank, but a healing factor will burn off the alcohol faster. Somehow they managed to get home safely, despite Darcy doing her best to distract Logan but wrapping her legs around his waist, cupping his erection, and sticking her tongue in his ear.
It was late when they got back home to the X-Mansion. All the children and students were asleep in their beds. The other professors were somewhere else, but not where Logan and Darcy were. They managed to stumble back to their rooms, drunk on each other rather than the whiskey and the wine. Every five steps they had to stop as one of them would push the other into the wall for a ravaging kiss. Slowly, they stripped each other naked. There was a trail of clothes leading from the garage to Logan’s bedroom to be found in the morning by some other unfortunate soul in the Mansion. The trail started with Logan’s old boots (hastily toed off, socks inside), and then Darcy’s strappy sandals (hastily kicked off), and then Logan’s black shirt (sans buttons), and then Darcy’s blue blouse (neatly slice down the front), and then Logan’s leather belt (undamaged), and then Darcy’s golden skirt (ripped with bite marks), and then Logan’s dark blue jeans (torn with claw-marks), and then ending with Darcy’s lacy white bra (neatly hung on the doorknob of Logan’s bedroom door, on the outside of course.)
Inside Logan’s bedroom, the rest of their clothes were quickly shed and tossed into the dirty clothes hamper. Now Logan was sprawled on the bed, completely relaxed after Darcy had massaged him, sucked him off, and rubbed him down in a maple scented, warm oil. He wasn’t suspicious considering how cloudy his mind was after a fantastic fellatio-induced orgasm. In fact, most of the blood in his head had rushed back down to his nether regions, his member valiantly trying to ready itself for a round two. Logan wasn’t even aware that his eyes had closed of their own accord until he heard a buckling sound followed by a rasping sound, like the hiss of a belt through belt-loops.
At that noise, Logan made a face, wrinkling his nose, and flopped his head to the side. With great effort, he opened his bleary eyes, blinking the sleep and whiskey and orgasm away, and was met with the startling sight of an outrageously yellow dildo, laying only a few inches away from his face. Instinctively, he closed his eyes to block out the ridiculous sight with the too bright color; and he groaned to her, “Oh, Darcy, you don’t have to use that. I’m already halfway hard again.”
Her laughter was rich and abundant in reply, and he looked for her in response. Darcy was standing at the end of the bed between his spread legs. Whereas the last time he saw her there she was kneeling with her mouth around his cock, lipstick smeared over her chin with kisses stained on his thighs, hands touching him here and there from balls to lower; now she was on her feet, leaning over him with her hands gently stroking up and down his legs in a soothing manner, that warm oil rubbed onto his skin. Her hair was mussed up from when he had yanked at it earlier, and her eyes were still lively from happiness, love, but now had traces of mischief there behind her glasses. Of course, his attention strayed to where her breasts were hanging above his spent member, but then something else caught his attention. When his eyes strayed lower, he saw a curious harness hooked over her pelvis area, a nude color but still he could clearly see where the straps of her harness crisscrossed over her flesh.
Before he could ask any questions, Darcy reached up and grasped his chin, gently forcing him to look her in the eyes. “How are you feeling, my love?” Slowly, she released his chin, her hand dropping to his chest to rest over his heart, feeling it beat strongly underneath her palm.
Still in a daze from the nights’ events, Logan’s voice was hoarse as he answered, “I’m fine. More than fine. Satisfied.” His eyes ran over her figure once again, lingering on the harness, and then he looked back up at her once more. “What the hell are you wearing?” The question was not asked in a harsh manner, but Logan’s normally rough voice may have rose an octave higher than normal at the end of the inquiry.
She was still smiling at him, too calm, as she started to climb on the bed between his legs. Spreading his thighs apart even further by using her knees, she didn’t break eye-contact as she ignored his question and asked questions of her own, “I’m glad you are satisfied, but are you sore? Do you think you need a break or are you too tired? Is the alcohol wearing off?” Her arms slowly wrapped around his shoulders, hands coming up to cradle his head as she lowered herself to rest on the bed beside him. Darcy still had his thighs spread over her own legs, but she chose to rest the upper half of her body on the bed, pillowing her head on the mattress as she stared up at him with concern.
“I can go again,” Logan found himself answering, “I don’t want to leave you unsatisfied. We don’t need to use the dildo either.” He twisted his body towards her as much as he could, craning his neck to try and connect his mouth to hers but he couldn’t.
There was laughter again from her, and she took mercy on him as she moved to catch his kiss. Between intoxicating kisses, she sighed to him, “The dildo is not…for me…my love…my love…the dildo…is for…you.”
At that last part, Logan pulled back, confused. “What?” He twisted his head to look back at the small yellow dildo, and he was inexplicably reminded of a banana. He nearly gave himself whiplash snapping his head back to look at her again. “No.” When he saw that small smirk on her mouth and the curious, adventurous, hungry gleam in her eye; he knew exactly what she wanted now. “No,” he repeated and emphatically continued, “I’m not doing this. I’m not doing that.” Seemingly against his own accord, he felt his balls draw up, excited but he couldn’t tell yet if that it was in a positive or a negative way.
As soon as he finished speaking, Darcy untangled her limbs from him, stretching out on her side on the bed with her hand propping her hand, fist to cheek. She didn’t look unhappy, just seemingly neutral. “I don’t understand, Logan, you’ve let me finger you.” Waggling the fingers of her free hand at him to prove her point she continued, “Logan, I just had three fingers inside of you not ten minutes ago while you came in my mouth.”
In response, Logan remained flat on his back and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes as he listened to her. “That’s different. You have slender fingers. They’re attached to you. They’re natural.”
“And attached to my fingers naturally are claws,” she added softly, watching his face. It was difficult for her to keep her attention there when he made quite the pretty picture in his naked glory, muscles rippling gloriously and skin shining from the oil lubricant she had lovingly pressed into his flesh in every divot and crease of skin. “I’ve kissed you there, you know. More than once has my tongue been buried there.”
His hands balled into fists and now he pressed his knuckles into his eyes. “The claws didn’t hurt me, they never have. And I know you’ve done that but that’s all different. That’s all you.”
“Then why is this little thing so different?” She reached across him and grabbed the dildo. It smallness was emphasized by how her hand nearly swallowed it except for the very tip and the slightly wider base which would connect to her harness. “I’m going to lube it up, of course, with a condom. This won’t hurt you. I’ll go easy on you. The point of this is to pleasure you more than to pleasure me.”
Logan adjusted his knuckles so that he could peek up at her from behind his hands. “Did you half to make it yellow just to humiliate me?”
Blushing, Darcy answered him, “Well, I actually made it yellow so that it would be less intimidating.”
“Yes, well why yellow? Why not blue? Since it’s yellow, all I can think about is bananas.” Logan’s voice was strained under embarrassment, and he was still avoiding looking at her.
She laughed again, just out of sheer hilarity. Darcy laughed so uproariously she collapsed back on the bed, drawing her fist clutching said yellow dildo up to her chest while she wiped her tears away with the other hand. “Honestly, Logan,” she finally spoke again after she regained her breath, “I didn’t think of it that way but I can’t be surprise that you did. I just thought it would look cute and not scary.”
Withdrawing his hands from his face, Logan looked at her with a small frown, petulant. Watching her laugh, though, he found the corners of his mouth turning upward as well. Wiggling towards her on the bed, he gently grabbed her hand that was holding the dread yellow dildo. “Yeah, yeah, I know I’m hilarious.” Pushing forward he pressed his pursed lips against her cheek and nestled his cheek in the crook where her neck and shoulder met. Eyelids fluttering, he rested there, slowly moving his face up and down, scrubbing his facial hair against her skin out of affection.
With her free arm Darcy pulled him closer and nosed against the crown of his head. She knew he got cuddly like this when he was really sleepy, so with that knowledge she knew he wouldn’t be up for their activity tonight. That knowledge in mind, she pulled her hand away from where he grasped her and set the yellow dildo on the bedside table. “Mm, you’re too tired, baby,” she softly hummed in his ear, “Don’t worry about it tonight.”
Logan pulled away slightly and threw his arm over his eyes again, blocking out the light. “Sorry I couldn’t satisfy you tonight,” Logan huffed, self-lambasting himself again.
Darcy slowly removed the harness and starting clearing everything away off the bed. “There will be another time, Logan.” She wasn’t bothered because she knew Logan would redouble his efforts to pleasure her the next time they were intimate. Climbing back in the bed and pulling the covers up over them both, she settled back into her pillow to sleep, exhausted from lovemaking.
It didn’t take long for Logan to migrate over to her side as he normally did, and Darcy was ready for him, opening her arms to him. He snuggled into her, his head underneath her chin and his ear pressed to her sternum, calmed by the steady thump-thump of her heartbeat. One of his hands cradled one of her breasts while the other was shoved underneath her body, comfortably crushed underneath her reassuring weight. His legs were wrapped around of her legs, knee precariously close to her pelvis and semi-hard erection grinding against her hip. Logan’s feet were cold from where he pressed them against her calf, and his breath tickled from where it ghosted over her skin, and his hair scratched at her skin where he pressed against her, and Darcy was afraid she was too heavy for him; but this was how they normally slept and Darcy knew that he loved her.
In return she ran her hands up and down his back, careful with her claws, and crooned small noises to him. She was happy like this, even if she didn’t get the chance to experiment and experience pegging with him. On the verge of sleep, Logan’s voice came to her, roughened by sleep itself. “You know, I would have done it, Darcy.”
Smiling in the dark, Darcy pressed kisses to his forehead, eyes closed from the heaviness that is sleep’s seduction. “I know you would’ve, Logan. And you would’ve enjoyed it, too.”
From where his erection was pressing into the meaty flesh of her hip, she felt it pulse at her words and he ever so slightly pushed it against her in arousal. Soon, though, he fell asleep, signally by his wheezy snores. Darcy followed him to the land of sleep, too, happy with holding him like this and being held by him if only for now.