Stamina update

Scott slapped his cock across Betsy’s face. “That’s enough of that. Emma,” he said warningly. “I never said that shower would have warm water.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Emma protested innocently.

“If you have this much energy to feud after your exercise regiment, it means I’m not pushing you hard enough,” Scott told both of them. “Get washed up and get some rest. In the evening, it’s back to work.”

“Scott.” Emma pouted. “You fucked us all over the bed. It’s filthy.”

“I’ll change the sheets. Shower before I change my mind.”

“Yes, dear,” Emma said, and winked at Betsy as the two women picked their way to the bathroom, still limping a little from all their labor.

“Such a gentleman,” Betsy muttered, impressed despite herself by how Emma could top from the bottom even a little. Perhaps there was more to learn from the White Queen than how she could suck someone off without choking herself out.

Scott grabbed Betsy’s hand before she could leave, pulling her back to him. For a moment, she was all girl—simply standing there with him looming over her, knowing he could have his way with her. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do anything about it. It was that she wouldn’t. Betsy was entirely content to be ravished as much as he wanted.

Scott ran a hand through her hair. Stroked her cheek. Kissed her temple gently. And whispered “I love knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken all my cum” into her ear.

Betsy felt herself come a little.

“Play nice with Emma. Don’t worry about which of you is on top. Remember I’m in control and I’ll make sure you’re both taken care of.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be taken care of,” Betsy cooed. “Maybe I want a man to break me. Totally use me up… so long as it feels good.”

Scott patted her hip. “Don’t let Emma use up all the hot water.”

***

The hot spray from the showerhead felt great, crashing across Emma’s naked back and shoulders. She lazily soaped her full breasts, lingering pleasurably on her hardened nipples. Thick white lather spilled down her sleek belly and cut between her labia lips before drizzling to the floor.

The shower door opened and Betsy stepped in with her, offering her tongue to the showerhead to wash Scott’s lingering taste away, before spitting the water away. She didn’t do it on Emma’s body, but the thought of such a thing incensed Emma—turned her on a little too. It made for such a splendid little fantasy that she almost asked Betsy to do it for real.

She saw that Betsy had registered how speculatively Emma was looking at her and felt obliged to comment… nicely, like she knew Scott wanted. “I can tell Scott really loved that whore mouth of yours.”

“Thank you. And having you there turned him on a lot. He wouldn’t have been nearly as hot without you watching.”

Emma smiled smugly, but held back from her usual acidic comment. Imagine Scott breaking up a catfight in his shower; she’d already let him dominate her too much today. Any further excuse for him to top and it really would start going to his head.

“He was plenty hot just for you,” Emma admitted. “And you knew what to do with it. I can see why Scott picked you. He knows who can get the job done in bed just as well as he knows who to assign in the field.

“He does have an eye for quality, doesn’t he?”

And Emma found herself looked over as thoughtfully as she’d scanned Betsy.

Emma ostensibly ignored Betsy’s gaze while also playing to it. She rubbed the slick cake of soap between her thighs, teasing her pouting labia. Her clit throbbed as she stirred up the arousal that seemed more like an ever-present powerline hum these days, ever since Scott had mastered her, than something that laid dormant.

The hot water continued to beat against her muscles, massaging her soreness away as best it could. It left the bone-deep tiredness, the lack of energy that her multiple orgasms had taken out of her.

“It doesn’t bother you?” Betsy asked. “Him taking both of us?”

Not enjoying the show? Trying to throw me off my game? You’re not that good an actress, dear. A spreading heat touched Emma’s sex, maybe started there. It held a tightening grip on her loins. One she knew wouldn’t go away unless detonated by a climax.

“Why would it?” Emma asked, savoring the sensual warmth, throwing her head back with eyes closed and mouth gaping wide in the semblance of a moan, even if she didn’t let one out. Her tongue flickered around her plump lips.

“Yes, why? Emma Frost the libertine, the sybarite… from the stories I’ve heard, you should be taking a lover yourself to get back at him.”

The soap slipped out of Emma’s hand. She overbalanced trying to catch it and had to catch herself against the wall to keep from falling over. Emma took a deep breath, trying to recover from the sudden interruption in the flow of feelings from her needy womanhood—the unwelcome intrusion of a question. Who could she take that would make Scott jealous while delivering her better sex than she would get by simply giving into Scott’s new power over her?

It was as if her body were telling her that there was no one, nothing she would rather have than what Scott did to her. Sure, she was as decadent as they came and would endlessly proclaim her right to have another lover, even as she gave Scott free rein to fuck who he liked. But just because Emma wouldn’t be told no when it came to eating did not mean she was in a rush to consume lard or spam or anything else Logan ate. She wanted wine, champagne, caviar: Scott was all those things rolled into one.

“Betsy, my love, who has time for that kind of pettiness? I have to see to it no one massacres any of our dear mutant comrades. And besides, if Scott ends up with you, I’d say he’s gotten what he deserves.”

Betsy crossed her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“English is your language, Betsy-doll. You should be able to figure it out.”

“And you should be able to figure out why you’re content with Scott but he’s not content with you.”

“Scott is exquisitely content with me. He’s also quite charitable. The kind of man who would volunteer to be your boyfriend personally instead of seeing you go back to the Mandarin.”

Betsy’s face curdled. “You heinous—”

Scott came in before she could finish her sentence. He paid no attention to the two gorgeous bodies inside the steamy shower, instead making a beeline for the toilet. He wore only his running shorts.

Betsy’s eyes went to him as he lifted the toilet’s lid. Despite herself, Emma looked with her. And no matter her vast acquaintance with Scott’s member, she still gasped softly when he pulled his shorts down below his groin. Not only was his cock freed, but his balls were loosed as well.

Betsy’s eyes became glassy as she continued staring. Both women heard the soft exhale of Scott’s relief as he let out a long stream of urine, hissing into the choppy water of the toilet bowl.

Betsy was clearly fascinated. There was something intimate about a man pissing that she was suddenly privy too. The powerful stream seemed to keep going forever and the sound of it splashing into the bowl reminded her of what else could come out of his cock, especially once freed of any interruption from his bladder.

Emma considered herself too elegant for such an earthy thing—she was debauched, not depraved. Still, Betsy’s evident interest and the fact of Scott’s cock being bared did have their effect on her. She felt herself tingling hotly, her nipples rising. She trembled as she continued watching, feeling a strange urge to go out there and handle Scott’s cock for him.

Scott ran dry, then shook his cock and stuffed it back into his shorts. Emma heard Betsy groan in disappointment; she felt the same way. Then Scott was going up to the shower. He opened the door and rinsed his hands off in the water—scooping some suds off Emma’s jutting breasts before he rubbed his palms together and then let the shower spray clear his cleansed hands.

“Don’t waste water,” he told them, though neither listened. Their four eyes burned on his ass while he left the bathroom.

As soon as he was gone, Emma reached for the shampoo. “What were we talking about?”

Betsy picked up the conditioner. “I don’t recall. Wash my back?”

“Only if you wash mine.”

“Cor, I can’t believe I had all that in me!”

“’All that’? Betts, he wasn’t even half-hard just now.”

“Stop reminding me or we’ll never get out of this shower.”

Emma smiled to herself. “Yes. If we don’t let Scott have a turn, he’ll be sweaty and musky all day.”

“I said quit it! I’m going to have a hard enough time waiting for tonight—”

Emma bit her lip sadistically. “He made that all up just now because he had too much fucking for just me. Imagine what he’ll do to us after a few hours of thinking up how to dominate us…”

She thought she’d found the perfect way to turn the screws on Betsy, but her fellow telepath only smiled back at her with the same wickedness Emma was feeling. “A few hours? Oh no, Frost. I’m sure he’s been thinking of how to handle the two of us for years…”

***

As Betsy quickly washed, feeling her cunt burning with need that would have to go untended now, she realized just how much she needed Scott’s cock. And to get it, she’d have to stay in Emma’s good graces. Or at least restrain herself to only holding her own instead of decimating the White Queen.

It was ironic, in a way. Once, Emma had been an erstwhile ally, a manipulative villain only working with the X-Men out of the least amount of common ground imaginable: mutant rights and children’s safety. And they’d barely trusted her until, Betsy could admit, Emma had proven herself a changed soul.

Now they were fraught allies again. Betsy on the outside, this time, wanting to be part of the relationship, needing to prove herself. They had to pull together to sustain this orgy of a love affair that they all enjoyed. Even more than they irked each other.

Bitchy as Emma was, if Betsy didn’t have a bone-shattering climax from her beau soon, she was going to lose it. Getting fucked senseless was exactly what she needed. It was as if fucking Scott and Emma hadn’t simply made her come, it’d ignited an intense, slow-burning fuse inside her. She’d been nowhere near unsatisfied, yet the promise of more shone through her satiation.

Betsy had a choice: either let the fuse go out and leave herself bereft or get more of this gratification, no matter how complicated, and find out what further pleasures could satisfy her desperate craving. It was complete submission: not only to Scott, but to sharing him with his chosen harridan. And the only consolation to her sacrifice was that it would irritate Emma as much as Scott’s divided attention irritated her.

Betsy wondered if she would get off on all this so hard if it wasn’t fucked up. After a lifetime of being good, she was mainlining all the delights of badness. Trusting Scott to be sure she didn’t drown in this new, enthralling kink.

“You should probably start wearing actual pants.”

“What?” Betsy asked.

“That thong you call a suit? Scott’s already fucked your ass—I’m sure it won’t be long until he spanks it too. If you’re suddenly wearing pants and finding it hard to sit down, even the goodie two-shoes will know that something’s up and it’s up you. So I’d start wearing pants now. That way, after Scott turns your ass red, you’ll already have an excuse to hide it.” Emma stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. “Besides, now that you’ve got a man, there’s really no need to walk around like a stripper looking for someone to take to the Champagne Room.”

“You’d know.”

“Yes, I would. That’s why my new costume only shows my belly. So Scott will think of how he needs to breed me. Ta, Betsy. Enjoy the water pressure as long as you like. But if I find a bunch of purple hairs clogging the drain, you’ll only be allowed to give yourself a hobo bath next time you’re in my chambers.”