The sun baked the white concrete of the mansion's expansive patio, turning the air into a shimmering heat haze. Alex stood on the edge of the diving board, a custom-built monstrosity that jutted out over the pool like a dare.
It was…really high.
The water below looked like a small, inviting rectangle of blue, but the distance between it and the board was enough to make his stomach tighten, even though he wasn't afraid of heights. This was just… different. Natasha had insisted on it, saying it matched the "scale" of his new life. He took a breath. The Mississippi humidity lay thick in his lungs.
He jumped.
The fall was a rush of air and a sudden, gut-plummeting silence before the smack of impact. The water enveloped him, cool and shocking against his heated skin. He plunged deep, the world turning silent and blue, then kicked upward, bursting back into the noise of the world with a gasp.
He surfaced, blinking, pushing his wet hair back. He floated for a moment, letting the tension in his shoulders melt away into the buoyant warmth.
So yeah, his life was great. Partially because he has SO much sex. That was also partially the thought that had driven him out here, to this isolated county along the river. Natasha, Psylocke, Luna Snow… they were relentless in their affection and their desire to get fucked. Doing OnlyFans and stuff like that was fun as hell but his balls needed a break.
Also, there was a new Marvel Rivals update coming soon. Season 7.5—and all the sex that made him drop from Grandmaster back to Diamond.
He closed his eyes, floating, letting the sun beat down on his face.
When he finally paddled to the edge, he hauled himself out, water streaming from his body. He stood on the hot concrete, smiling at the simple pleasure of the sun on his skin. He reached for the towel on a nearby lounger.
It was then he felt the… lack. A breeze, a coolness on a part of him that should have been covered. He looked down.
His swimming trunks were gone. They must have slipped off during the plunge. He was completely nude, letting his big dick hang.
Big, perhaps, was an understatement. It was a monster. Even completely soft, relaxed from the swim, it was a nine-inch length of thick, heavy flesh. Balls as wide as his fists, contained in a sac that was rather loose from the temperature.
No fucking wonder Alex had a harem. No wonder the ladies of Marvel Rivals were profoundly addicted to him.
He was used to whipping it out and using it. But, well, seeing it out here, in the open air, with the sun glistening on the wet skin, he flushed. He was too much of a normal guy to be okay with being nude out in the open.
The young man grabbed the towel, but before he could wrap it around himself—
KREEEEK!
"Huh?"
It wasn't a sound from the earth. It came from the sky. A sharp, crackling tear, like fabric being ripped apart in the clouds above him.
Alex looked up, too late.
A tiny, shimmering portal, like a tear in reality itself, had opened directly above him. And from it, a figure tumbled out, falling in a chaotic spiral of green and gold and brown.
"Oh, shi—"
The woman—he could see it was a woman now—slammed into him with not-so-impressive force. He grunted, the impact knocking him backward onto the hot concrete. His hands flew out instinctively to catch himself, to catch her, and his palms slapped against something
Something jiggly and pretty soft but still firm. Like…like…
Oh.
His hands were full of ass. A fat ass. A really, really fat ass. The cheeks were so substantial they spilled over the sides of his palms. His fingers instinctively dug in, and he felt the incredible, lush roundness.
He lay on his back, stunned. The woman was sprawled atop him, her chest pressed to his, her face buried momentarily in his shoulder. She groaned.
"M-made from stronger stuff than that…"
Was that…a Southern accent?
A second groan followed and the woman shifted, pulling her head back. They were nose-to-nose. Her eyes, wide and green, locked onto his. He stared back, his hands still clutching her phenomenal backside. She blinked. Her gaze dropped to where her arms were braced against his chest.
"Y-you're…Rogue?" Alex said, blinking.
Rogue panicked. Her eyes widened further, a flash of terror shooting through them. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, her fingers digging into his skin. He felt her whole body tense atop him. Then, just as suddenly, the tension vanished. Her grip loosened. She waited, her breath held.
Nothing happened.
"Err…you okay?"
"Me okay? A-aren't you…o-okay…"
Every drawn out word was tinged with fear. It was like she thought she had killed him. But…he was still standing—or rather, lying on the floor. Alex didn't get it, until he remembered who this was.
Her hair was puffy and brown, with lushes of white painting the bangs. They weren't streaks like he thought they might be. Her eyes were green, blinking widely, and her hoop earrings seemed rather cheap. He remembered who this was now.
This was Rogue. This was a mutant woman who had struggled to control her powers all her life because her powers meant death. Literal, irreversible death.
But…Alex wasn't dying.
No scream. No convulsion. No transfer of power or life force. Nothing.
Rogue's powers didn't work. They just didn't. Her expression shifted from terror to confusion, then to disbelief, then to a dawning, incredible hope.
"Woah," Rogue breathed, the word drawn out into a long, trembling sigh. "Woaaah. Woah."
One of her hands left his shoulder and rose to his face. Her touch was tentative at first, just fingertips brushing his cheek. Then, more firmly, her palm cupped his jaw. She was feeling him. The texture of his skin, the warmth of his living flesh. Her eyes were locked on his, searching, unbelieving.
Alex didn't how to react to a sexy Southern woman checking him out like this. It was intimate to say the least. "U-um…? Rogue?"
"Sorry, sorry," Rogue said, but it wasn't really an answer. She was too busy experimenting. Her other hand joined, both now roaming his face, tracing his eyebrows, the line of his nose, and the curve of his lips.
Everything Alex was, was still there.
The penultimate moment arrived and Rogue suddenly leaned down to kiss him.
'W-wait, aren't you—?'
It didn't matter, it was a kiss. It wasn't a passionate, deep kiss. It was a firm, pressing of her lips to his, a seal of contact. Rogue held it for a few seconds, then pulled back, her eyes sparkling.
"You're not… you're not…!" Rogue laughed. The laugh bubbled up from her chest, a giggle of pure, unadulterated joy. She looked down at him, still not moving off of him, her weight a pleasant, crushing comfort. "Dying! At all! L-like I don't even gotta hold back! Like my powers are gone!"
A huge, radiant smile broke across her face. She laughed and he could see how beautifully sad it was.
"My control's better now," Rogue said, the words tumbling out in her rich Mississippi drawl, so familiar to him here in this Mississippi county. "Remmy—my husband, Gambit—his kinetic touch, I absorb a little of that, gives me a boost. A buffer. But… there's always a sadness. Always gotta hold back. Always gotta measure every hug, every handshake. Even with him, sometimes… it's…just…." Her voice softened, the joy in her eyes tinged with that old sorrow. "And now… here… with you…"
"Mwah!"
Rogue kissed him again, delighted. It was an instinctual act, a burst of unfiltered affection for the simple fact of contact. For humanity. For herself. It was also, he realized with a flicker of guilt, a bit… much.
She was married. To Gambit.
Yet she kissed this stranger twice, all because she could provide something nobody else had.
Rogue sprang to her feet then. She stood over him, boobs jiggling slightly. That yellow outfit of hers was tight and yet cheap. The brown jacket was curt and short and really served to curve around her boobs.
Her figure was shapely. E-cup breasts stained against the top of her yellow suit, and that ass, the one his hands had just been full of, was a masterpiece. Phew. Alex couldn't believe he was looking up at her.
She offered him a hand to help him up.
Which was also the moment her eyes, naturally trailing down to where his hand would meet hers, found something else.
They found his dick.
His huge, flaccid, ten-inch monster dick, still hanging there, uncovered, glistening with pool water.
She stared. Her hand faltered in the air. Her eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly in a silent oh. She was stunned. Her gaze traveled the entire length of it, from the base rooted in his pubic hair to the thick, prominent head.
Her inner thoughts were a hurricane of comparison. Gambit. Remy LeBeau. Her husband. Tall, muscular, handsome. His dick, when hard, was… respectable. A good size. It filled her well, made her happy.
But this… this thing on this naked man lying before her…
Alex's soft cock was far bigger than Gambit's hard cock. The thickness alone was staggering. The shaft was a dense column of flesh. And his balls… those heavy, full orbs resting low… Gambit's were normal. These were…
Rogue flushed.
"No fucking comparison…!"
It was a murmur she didn't mean to let out. Alex barely heard it too as he grabbed her hand. Rogue's grip was loose, far too deep in her thoughts. Who could blame her? Alex's balls looked like they could hold a reservoir of cum that would drench her. Gambit had more muscles, more height, more charming rogue flair… but in terms of what made a man a man, in the raw, physical, fucking equipment, Alex had him beat in spades. Seeing this nude young stud triggered a deep, primal flicker in her gut, a curiosity that was instantly, guiltily, aroused.
Alex tried to ignore the direction of her gaze, but it was locked on his groin. He got to his feet and quickly grabbed the towel from the lounger and wrapped it around his waist, covering the magnificent, distracting thing.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
Rogue blinked, shaking herself out of the stare. A slow, sly smile spread across her lips. The Southern teasing tone crept into her voice. "Sorry? For what? For havin' a goddamn anvil hangin' between your legs? Lord above, boy, that's a tool. I ain't seen anything like that… not even in the dangerous parts of my world." She laughed, a husky sound. "You're built like a stallion, ain'tcha?"
Alex's blush deepened. "It's… just genetics."
"Just genetics," Rogue repeated, huffing. "Right. Well, your genetics are friendly, let me tell you." She crossed her arms, her eyes still darting down to the towel, knowing what was hidden beneath. "But also… I have no idea how I got here. That portal… I was just flyin', then rip, and I'm fallin' onto a naked man with a cannon in his lap."
Alex chuckled, the awkwardness easing. "Don't worry. This happens all the time, Rogue. Or, err… should I call you Anna?"
Her playful expression froze. "You…know my name?"
"It's… complicated," he said, running a hand through his wet hair. "Multiverse shenanigans—"
"No need, I'll listen." Rogue chuckled. "I'm an X-Man, I know how it goes."
Phew, great. Alex gestured toward the grand mansion behind them. "I'll have lunch ready."
"Lunch, eh? Better not whip up a sardine," she joked.
"O-okay…"
Rogue looked from him to the house, then back to him, her gaze lingering on his towel-wrapped midsection. The friendship, the offer, was there. But something else simmered beneath.
"Right! Great!" she said, her smile returning, though it now held a new, knowing glint. "Friends call me Anna Marie. You can call me Rogue. For now."
For now.
***
The air-conditioned mansion kitchen earned sighs following the humid poolside. Alex padded across the polished marble floor, the towel around his waist the only thing between him and complete nudity. He could feel the damp fabric clinging to his hips, and worse, he could feel Rogue's eyes on him.
'I-isn't she married?' he thought, glancing quietly. He could barely hold it for long because she was looking deeply at him.
"Make yourself at home," Alex said, gesturing vaguely to the expansive kitchen island with its bar stools. "Anything in particular you want?"
"Surprise me, sugar," Rogue drawled, sliding onto a stool. She propped her elbows on the counter, her chin in her hands, and just… watched him. Her gaze was way too damn obvious. She was tracing the line of his shoulders, the taper of his back, and his butt beneath the thin white towel.
"Lord, that's a fine ass," Rogue murmured and Alex pretended he didn't hear the married woman saying that. Compact, muscular, with just enough give to make a woman want to grab it. Which she'd already done, technically. But she wanted to do it again, without the panic.
Alex moved to the massive stainless steel refrigerator, pulling out ingredients: sourdough bread, thick-cut honey ham, swiss cheese, crisp lettuce, and ripe tomatoes. He was intensely aware of every move he made, of the way the towel threatened to slip with each step. He could feel the outline of his soft cock pressed against the terrycloth.
He knew Rogue was staring too.
"So," Rogue began, her voice a lazy purr. "You were sayin' it's complicated. How you know me. Start talkin', chef."
Alex grabbed a knife and a cutting board. "Right. Okay. So, in this world… your world, the X-Men, all of it… it's a video game. A really popular one called Marvel Rivals."
Rogue's eyebrows shot up. "A video game."
"Yeah. I play it. A lot. Or, I used to, before…" He gestured around the kitchen, at the mansion itself.
"Before…?"
"Well, you're the first lady to come here. There's the Black Widow, Storm, Psylocke, Luna Snow—"
"Woah, woah, woah, that's one hell of a line-up! Are you collecting ladies or helping 'em?"
"It's, er…well…"
"Well?"
Alex didn't know how to answer. "A-anyway, it's, uh…they're here. In places. Like Psylocke is on an island. Um, Hela and the Scarlet Witch are in—"
"The Scarlet Witch!?" Rogue launched to her feet, flabbergasted. "Y-you mean…how!? How is she here!? Are her powers gone too!? Wait…are you responsible for this?"
Alex flushed and glanced at her. His shyness seemed to calm her down. "I-it's not like that. It's not me, at least I mean, I'm not doing it on purpose. There is a connection though."
Rogue eyed him. "Uh-huh."
"They just… started appearing. Natasha—Black Widow—came through my computer monitor a year ago. And the others, i-it's a long story. But the point is that you gals appear in my vicinity."
"So we don't always fall on top of ya while yer naked or what?"
"N-no, not always. It can be a couple houses away or in the same room."
Rogue cackled. "While naked."
"No, just…s-sometimes, not always." He sucked in a breath and risked a glance at her. Rogue wasn't offended. She looked fascinated.
"A video game," she repeated slowly. "So all the fights, the Sentinel attacks, my wedding to Remy… that's all just… code and pictures to y'all?"
"Well, Wanda's leading theory—"
"Oooh, you're on a first-name basis with her?"
He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Um, but she thinks that this world is just another Earth. Like all alternate universes, it has something special to it. She theorizes a special barrier made by the One Above All. Every universe technically has it. It's what subjugates people to the universe's law. In this universe, the law is no powers."
"No powers. None at all? Kapeesh? Zilch?"
"Not zilch. We think those connected to an outside force are more likely to use snippets of their powers. In Wanda's case, it was her Chaos magic and for Hela—" Rogue clicked her tongue, impressed. "She's a goddess of death itself and powered by it."
"And us mutants?" Rogue asked.
"Actually, because there are so many of you here, it's becoming easier and easier to use your powers. But…you actually will have to train for it. Like, you'll have to train super hard." He layered the ham and cheese on the bread. "Does that make sense?"
Rogue hummed, drumming her green-gloved fingers on the counter. "And how do I get back?"
Alex sighed, sliding the assembled sandwich onto a panini press. "That's the million-dollar question. Scarlet Witch and Hela, they're all working on it. But using that kind of reality-warping power in this world is hard. If they can barely manage a coherent spell, then… yeah. It's gonna take time."
"Hela, Goddess of Death…" Rogue whistled. "You're gettin' interestin' company, Alex."
"You have no idea," he muttered, the press hissing as it grilled the sandwich.
Silence fell for a moment, filled only by the sizzle of butter and the low hum of the fridge. Rogue's eyes never left him. They tracked the flex of his forearm as he squeezed a bottle of mustard, the shift of his back muscles as he reached for plates. They kept drifting lower, to where the towel was tented outward by the sheer mass of his soft cock.
Her mouth felt a little dry.
Gambit was all lean muscle and charming grace. His cock was nice. More than nice. It got the job done.
But…did it make her toes curl? No. No, it did not.
Seeing this… it was like comparing a thoroughbred to a draft horse. One was for racing, the other was for work. Deep, foundational, earth-moving work. Her pussy gave a soft, involuntary clench at the thought.
'Stop it, Anna Marie. You're a married woman,' she scolded herself. But the thought was weak, drowned out by the roaring novelty of touch. She could touch him. She could, if she wanted, walk right over and put her hand on that towel-covered bulge and feel the heat and the weight of it. And he wouldn't die. He wouldn't even pass out.
Freedom was truly intoxicating.
Alex brought the plates over, setting a perfectly grilled, golden-brown sandwich in front of her. He sat on the stool opposite, his own sandwich before him. The towel gapped slightly as he sat, and for a split second, she saw a flash of his inner thigh and a shadow of his heavy balls.
"So you're stuck with me for a while," Alex said, picking up his sandwich. "I hope you don't mind."
Rogue picked up her own sandwich, but her eyes were on his face. "Months in a Mississippi mansion with a man who has a dick bigger than my forearm. My, my. What would Remy say?"
Alex choked on his first bite. "I—I wouldn't… I mean, it's not like that."
"Isn't it?" she asked, taking a fast bite. She chewed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Mmm. This is good. You can cook, too. A man of many talents." She swallowed and took more bites until she was done. "Another sandwich, please?"
He got up. He turned.
"And I've been meanin' to do this since I got a good look at you walkin' in here…."
"Hm?" Before Alex could react, she leaned over the island and her hand connected with his ass cheek with a solid, playful smack. Alex jolted. The towel offered no protection.
"H-hey…"
"There," Rogue said, sitting back with a satisfied cackle. "Been wantin' to do that. You got a fine ass, Alex. Firm. Slappable."
Alex's face was on fire. "Y-you can't just…"
"What? You're the one paradin' around in a towel. You're practically askin' for it." She took a bite out of his sandwich next, grinning like a cat that got the cream. "So, my livin' arrangements? I assume you got a spare room in this palace for little ol' me?"
"I have a bunch of mansions," Alex said, still rubbing his stinging cheek. He got to making her a sandwich though. "This is just the one in Caldecott County, Mississippi. I've got places in—"
"Wait." Rogue froze. Alex's sandwich was halfway to her mouth. "Did you say Caldecott County? Mississippi?"
"Yeah, along the river. It's pretty rural, but Natasha thought the privacy was—"
Rogue slammed her—or rather, his sandwich down. "That's my home! Well, near enough! I'm from Caldecott County! Born and raised!" She sprang to her feet, her excitement palpable. "Oh, you gotta show me around! Right now! Get ready, sugar, we're goin' on a field trip! I wanna see if old Miss Clarissa's pie shop is still standin'!"
She was a whirlwind of sudden energy, rounding the island, grabbing his arm. "C'mon! Get some pants on! Let's go—mmmf!"
Alex, used to the impulsive, strong-willed women in his life, shoved the rest of his sandwich into the mutant lady's mouth in one huge, ungraceful bite.
Rogue stared at him, hands on her hips and chewing. Without words, she asked, "You serious right now?"
"You just fell out of the sky. You're in a different universe. You're wearing a skin-tight yellow spandex suit and a bomber jacket. You'll look like a freak out there. Cosplay isn't really a thing in the rural parts here. They'll stare. They'll talk. It'll be a whole thing."
Rogue gulped the sandwich down. She looked down at her outfit. "Oh. Right." She sighed, the excitement leaking out of her. "Damn. You're right. Been so long since I had to worry about lookin' normal. My world, it's…normal."
"Well, here, X-Men are just Halloween costumes."
"Wait, people like them? They like to dress up as them?"
"Yep."
"Wow. You know, sugar, I'm likin' this world the more I hear about it."
They finished their lunch in a more comfortable silence. Alex cleared the plates. The Rogue was here. Rogue from the X-Men. Rogue with the phenomenal ass and the hungry eyes. And she could touch him.
'She's so much more aggressive too. In a good way,' he thought, smiling a little.
"Alright," he said, rinsing his hands. "Let's get you some civvies. Follow me."
He led her out of the kitchen, through a vast living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pool, and up a sweeping staircase. His bare feet were silent on the plush carpet. Rogue followed, her boots making soft thuds. Her eyes were everywhere, taking in the opulent art, the high ceilings, but they always returned to him. To the way the towel rode up with each step, showing more of his thighs. To the undeniable, heavy sway of his cock and balls beneath the fabric.
"Mm." Rogue licked her lips. Straight men liked nude women. Straight women like nude men. Duh.
'He's not even hard,' Rogue thought, her own core heating up. 'That's just him soft. Just hangin' there. What does it look like when it's awake?'
This was a fuckin' specimen.
And, well, it had been some time since she last courted a man…
Alex stopped at a door on the second-floor landing. He pushed it open to reveal a guest room done in soothing blues and grays. A king-sized bed dominated the space, and a large walk-in closet stood open.
"Guest room," he said. "Closet's full of stuff. Natasha and the others… they buy clothes. A lot. I think there should be something in your size. Jeans, t-shirts, maybe a sundress. Help yourself."
Rogue stepped past him into the room, her shoulder brushing his bare arm. The contact was electric for her. Simple, skin-to-spandex contact, and nothing bad happened. She smiled up at him. "Thanks, sugar. I'll be quick as a bunny."
"Take your time," Alex said, turning to leave. "I'll be downstairs when you're—"
He didn't finish.
Because as he turned, Rogue snickered and her hand shot out, not to his arm, but to the knot of the towel at his hip.
The towel came loose in one smooth pull.
Alex had a moment of confusion as the fabric fell away. He was nude again, completely exposed to her in the doorway of the bedroom. The cool air of the hallway hit his skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of her gaze.
"Well, well, sugar…"
Her snickering became louder.
Wide-eyed, his hands flew down instinctively to cover himself. But it was futile. His hands were too small. His flaccid cock, a thick, ten-inch rope of flesh, hung down heavily, the head brushing mid-thigh. His balls, full and low, swung gently between his legs. Covering it was like trying to hide a fire hose with a postage stamp.
"There it is. The legendary monster cock in all its glory." She let her eyes roam, unashamed, from his flushed face down his chest, over his stomach, to the magnificent, dangling centerpiece. "Fuck, Alex. That is a beautiful dick. I mean, goddamn. That's a fuckin' dick."
Alex was paralyzed, his brain short-circuiting between embarrassment and a sudden, sharp arousal. Her words, so crude and appreciative, sent a jolt straight to his groin. He felt a twitch, a thickening at the root.
Rogue saw it. Her grin turned predatory. "Oh, it's wakin' up. Just from me lookin' at it. You like that, sugar? You like me starin' at your huge, soft cock? You like knowin' I'm comparin' it to every other dick I've ever seen and it's winnin' by a country mile?"
"R-Rogue, please," Alex managed, his voice tight.
"Please what?" she teased, taking a half-step closer. The scent of her—leather, ozone, and something uniquely female—washed over him. "Please stop lookin'? Or please keep goin'?" Her gaze locked with his.
Alex couldn't speak. The permission was on the tip of his tongue, warring with a lifetime of manners and the knowledge that she was married.
Rogue saw the conflict. She laughed and his dick twitched again. Casually, gently, slowly, she draped his towel back over Alex's shoulder, letting her fingers brush his collarbone.
"Thank you for the show. Now get outta here before I do somethin' this married girl might regret. Or not regret enough."
With that, Rogue gave him a gentle push backward into the hallway and closed the bedroom door in his stunned face. The towel hung uselessly from his shoulder. From behind the door, he heard Rogue's unmistakable, delighted cackle.
All Alex could think was, 'Wow. A-are all Southern women like this?'
***
The afternoon sun was a warm, buttery gold over the rolling fields of Caldecott County. Alex had driven them out to a spot he'd found when he first arrived: a secluded clearing on a gentle hill overlooking a bend in the Mississippi River. An oak tree provided shade for the checkered blanket he'd spread out, pinned down at the corners by a picnic basket and a small cooler.
Rogue stretched out on her side, propped up on an elbow, wearing a simple white sundress Alex had pulled from the guest closet. It was a little tight across her chest and hips, straining against her E-cup breasts. She was, uh, pretty well-endowed and owned up to it. No bra? No question about it, Rogue loved her tits.
She looked like a Southern pin-up dream, the breeze teasing strands of brown and white hair from her loose ponytail.
"This is nice, sugar," Rogue said, her voice a lazy drawl. "Real nice. Reminds me of home. The good parts, anyway."
"Glad you like it," Alex said, unpacking the basket. He'd gone for simple, hearty fare: fried chicken, potato salad, biscuits, and a container of fresh strawberries. He was dressed in dark jeans and a grey t-shirt. He'd been hyper-aware of her eyes on him all morning. This woman was thirsty.
Again, was this a Southern woman thing? Or just Rogue?
"Here," Alex said, handing her a plate.
Instead of taking it, Rogue opened her mouth. "Ahhh."
Alex blinked. "What?"
"Feed me," Rogue said, her green eyes sparkling with challenge. "I'm feelin' pampered, sugar. Come on~!"
Alex smiled and laughed a little. He picked up a piece of crispy chicken, holding it to her lips. She took a delicate bite, her lips brushing his fingers. She chewed slowly, watching him, then leaned forward and took the rest of the piece from his hand, her teeth grazing his skin.
"Mmm. Good chicken," Rogue murmured. "You a pro cook or somethin'?"
"Yep!"
"Hehe, I like that. Prideful men are my butter."
"I'm glad I'm your type," Alex joked, his pulse picking up.
"You better be." She reached over and plucked a strawberry from the container. "My turn." She held the berry to his lips. He took a bite, the sweet juice bursting on his tongue. She popped the remaining half into her own mouth, licking the red residue from her fingertips with a slow, deliberate swipe of her tongue. "Better watch out, Alex. I'm feelin' a little touchy today."
Alex laughed it off while feeling a familiar stirring in his jeans. He'd gotten used to the constant, low-grade arousal that seemed to hum between them since she'd arrived. It was in every glance, every accidental brush, every teasing comment.
"Needy how?" he asked anyway.
Rogue chuckled and rolled onto her stomach. The sundress rode up, revealing the backs of her thighs, the incredible, mouth-watering swell of her ass barely contained by simple cotton panties. She rested her chin on her folded arms, looking out at the river. "Just… feels good to be able to want to touch. Without consequences. It's makin' me greedy."
Alex's eyes were glued to the sight. The dress fabric was taut over the magnificent globe of each cheek. He could see the indent of her panty line. 'Fuck.' He adjusted his position, trying to relieve the sudden pressure in his pants.
"You're starin', sugar," Rogue said without turning around, a smile in her voice.
"Can't help it," he admitted. "You've got… you've got an amazing ass, Anna Marie."
Rogue liked that. She wiggled her hips and ass slightly, a slow, hypnotic roll. "I know. And you've got that big, beautiful cock I can't stop thinkin' about. We're a dangerous pair."
"Y-yeah…"
"And don't think I didn't notice you using my full name. You're ballsy, Alex~!" She then whispered with a cupped hand. "I really like that~!"
They finished the picnic in a haze of flirtation and loaded silence. Rogue fed him more strawberries, her fingers lingering in his mouth. He smoothed sunscreen on her shoulders when she complained of the heat, his hands kneading the strong muscles, sliding down to the small of her back. She shivered under his touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
"Okay," Rogue said finally, sitting up. "I'm gettin' antsy."
"So…?"
He massaged. He smiled. He neared her ear.
Rogue giggled and nudged her head. "Let's go be around people. I wanna see the town. My town."
"Ah…"
Damn. His hands loosened and Rogue giggled, shrugged him off, and got up. After packing up and stuffing everything in Alex's car, they got going.
The main street of the nearest hamlet was a sleepy collection of weathered brick buildings: a hardware store, a diner with a flickering neon 'OPEN' sign, a barber shop, and a few struggling boutiques.
Rogue walked with a new energy, her arm linked through Alex's. She was extroverted, intentional, greeting everyone they passed with a bright "Afternoon!" in her thickest Mississippi accent.
"There it is!" Rogue crowed, pointing to a small clothing store called 'Magnolia Threads.' "C'mon. I need somethin' that actually fits these hips."
The bell above the door jingled. The store was cool and smelled of lavender and old wood. An elderly woman with kind eyes named Mrs. Peabody greeted them. Rogue immediately began rifling through racks, holding up sundresses, blouses, and—to Alex's acute interest—several pairs of tight jeans.
"Oh, these are perfect," Rogue said, holding a pair of dark-wash denim against her hips. "And this." She held up a simple green tank top. "And this." This was a little black dress that looked like it might belong in a strip club, backless and showing way too much cleavage. .
But her focus quickly shifted. "Now you," Rogue said, turning her predatory grin on Alex. "I love makin' my man dress up."
"I'm not very—" he started, but she shushed him with a finger to his lips.
"Hush. For the sake of the game, you are." She began pulling shirts from the men's section. A deep blue button-down. A tight black henley. A burgundy polo. She held them against his chest, her hands lingering, feeling the muscle beneath. "Mmm. Yes. You're gonna look so good in these. And pants. You need better pants. These jeans are fine, but…" She found a pair of tailored charcoal grey trousers. "These. Try these on."
"Rogue, um, I'm not sure if I—"
"I said try them on," Rogue repeated, her voice dropping, a note of pure command in it that made his knees weak. It was the voice of a woman used to being obeyed. "I wanna see how they fit across you, sugar."
Swallowing hard, Alex took the armful of clothes into the small changing room. He could hear her chatting easily with Mrs. Peabody outside, discussing delivery. "Oh, just send it all to the big house on the river bluff. The Caldecott Manor. Yes, that one. He owns it."
"Lucky you, havin' a husband like 'im."
A pause. "Oh. Oh, I am lucky, aren't I?"
The ladies shared laughter.
Pretending he didn't hear that, Alex tried on the grey trousers first. They were indeed tailored, hugging his thighs and, as he turned to look in the mirror, showcasing the pronounced bulge at his crotch. Which, err…
"Um, Rogue?" he called out. "This is…"
"A tight fit? I know, cowboy!"
His soft cock was outlined clearly against the fine fabric. Like…that was too much, wasn't it?
"Not gonna come out?" Rogue asked from right outside the changeroom.
"Er…um…"
The curtain rustled, and before he could protest, Rogue slipped inside the changing room with him.
"R-Rogue…!"
It was cramped, filled with the scent of her honeysuckle-vanilla perfume. Her eyes went straight to his groin.
"Fuck." Rogue's gaze was hot. "Look at that. Just… look at it. Even soft, it's makin' a damn tent." She reached out, her fingers hovering just an inch from the clothed bulge. "Can I?"
He nodded, unable to speak.
Giggling, she touched him. Not skin-to-skin—his jeans and her gloves were in the way—but the pressure was unmistakable. She palmed him, her hand curving around the thick, long shape of his cock through the trousers. She squeezed gently, her thumb rubbing over the broad head.
"Jesus, Alex," she whispered, leaning in close. Her breath was warm on his neck. "It's so fuckin' big. I can feel every inch. It's like holdin' a damn rolling pin. A warm, heavy, perfect rolling pin." She squeezed again, a little harder, and he groaned, his hips pushing forward into her hand. "You like that? You like me feelin' up your monster cock in a changin' room like some horny teenager?"
"Y-yes," he heaved out.
"Good." Rogue gave him one last, firm stroke, then pulled her hand away, leaving him throbbing. "The trousers are perfect. Buy 'em. Now try the henley. I wanna see your arms."
The rest of the shopping trip was a delicious torture. She had him model each shirt right there in the changeroom. The shopkeeper didn't mind since there was no else around.
Rogue's comments filthy and appreciative:
"The blue makes your eyes pop, sugar, and I wanna pop somethin' else."
"Look at that fucking bulge. You look like you're about to fuck me right over that counter."
Going to the counter, Alex was a blushing, stammering mess while Rogue was tall and proud. Mrs. Peabody, thankfully, was ultimately amused and arranged for the delivery. "We'll bring it by tomorrow," she said with a wink. "Always wanted to see inside that big house."
By the time they left, the sun was dipping low, painting the sky in oranges and purples. "S-should we go home or…?"
Alex's question was easily answered. "Bar," Rogue declared. "I need a drink. And I wanna see you drink."
"I'm…not a big drinker."
"Heh, you will be, babe~!"
She grabbed him and off they went. Along the way, Alex made eye contact with a stranger. He flashed a grin that said: Southern women, am I right?
'The Rusty Anchor' was exactly what it sounded like: a wood-paneled bar with a long counter, a few pool tables, and the comforting smell of beer and fried food. A handful of locals glanced up as they entered, but a few nodded at Alex in recognition. The rich recluse from the bluff immediately became a known figure.
They took a booth in the back. Rogue ordered a bourbon, neat. Alex got a beer. She slid into the seat beside him, not opposite, her thigh pressing firmly against his.
"So," Rogue said, clinking her glass against his bottle. "To new friends."
"To new friends," Alex agreed.
They talked for hours. She asked about his life, about the other women. It was an awkward but necessary conversation. He told her about Natasha's fierce protectiveness and money hacks. She was the beginning and end of their operation since without her hacking and spy skills, it would have been impossible to get anything officiated.
"Luna was a huge help too. Me and her, uh, make videos. They get us a lot of money."
"How much money we talkin'?" Rogue asked with a smirk and raised brow.
"Umm…" Alex looked away, then back at her. His smile was shy. "Ten million?"
"Holy shit!? You kidding me!? This OnlyFans shit really that much of a business!? Are guys that lonely!?"
"...yeah?"
"Ha. Hahah!" Rogue drank her shot and asked for another. "So, you're rich. You got a big dick. And you just… take care of 'em all?" she asked, her fingers tracing circles on the tabletop, dangerously close to his thigh. "All of 'em?"
"I try," he said. It was a bit hard to answer with pride because everyone was glancing at them. The words "rich" and "big dick" were loaded. Of course people were going to be curious.
"Hela? A-and Wanda too? Those bitches are greedy, I'm surprised they can agree on anything."
"I make it work," was the only thing Alex could say.
"Guess them not havin' powers pipes 'em down." She laughed, a rich, full sound that turned heads. "I like that though. You tamin' hard-heads like them." She took a sip of her fourth bourbon, a flush on her cheeks. "And where do I fit in, Alex?"
He looked at her, at the hope and hunger in her green eyes. "Wherever you want to."
Her smile was soft, genuine. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment. "Mm."
"What's wrong?"
"I'm…bein' so bad. I'm a married woman."
"You've mentioned."
"He's a good man. Remy is… he's my heart. But he's not here. And you are. And you have this… this fuckin'… thing between your legs that's been drivin' me crazy for days." She lifted her head, her eyes slightly glassy from the drink. "And I can touch you. Do you have any idea what that means to me? It's not just the sex—though, fuck, I wanna ride that cock until I scream. It's the… the normalcy. I could hold your hand walkin' down the street. I could kiss you goodnight. I haven't been able to do that without concentratin' since I was a teenager."
Her vulnerability was a punch to his gut. He put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Rogue melted into him.
It was then that a couple of guys from the pool table ambled over. They were big, friendly-looking in a rough way. "Hey there. Ain't seen you 'round before," one said to Rogue, tipping his hat.
Rogue lifted her head from Alex's shoulder, her smile turning polite but distant. "Just visitin'."
"You sound like a local."
"Am one. Sort-of. It's nearby," Rogue replied.
"Well, welcome. Can we buy you a drink?"
"Heh. Sorry boys, I'm with him," Rogue said, patting Alex's chest.
The guy looked at Alex, then back at Rogue, a slow grin spreading. "Lucky man. Y'all married?"
Rogue's eyes flicked to Alex, a mischievous glint in them. She didn't correct them. She just took a sip of her drink and said, "I may be a married woman now, but I ain't the type to get all domesticated!" She laughed, and the guys laughed with her, assuming she meant Alex.
They chatted for a few more minutes before wandering off, leaving Alex with his heart pounding. 'She never corrected them.'
Midnight found them stumbling out of the bar, Rogue leaning heavily on him. She was tipsy, giggly. The woman was loose and pliant against his side.
Alex's car was parked a little far from here. Walking Rogue there was no issue, but still, better say than sorry. He was a little drunk and that was not worth driving drunk.
"Taxi!" Alex called, and an old cab pulled up. The ride back to the mansion was quiet, Rogue dozing with her head on his lap. His hand rested on her hair, stroking the soft strands. His balls were achingly full, had been for days, but the feeling of her trust, her warmth, was more intoxicating than any lust.
He paid the driver and lifted her into his arms. She murmured, nuzzling into his neck. "You're strong, sugar… carryin' me like a bride…"
He carried her into the silent, moonlit mansion, fishing out the keys with one hand to open it. They went up the stairs and to her guest room. He laid her gently on the bed. She blinked up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded.
"My dress," Rogue mumbled, fumbling at the straps.
"Let me," he said softly. He helped her sit up, sliding the sundress off over her head. She was left in just her white cotton bra and panties. He swallowed, his mouth dry. He laid her back down and pulled the covers over her.
Rogue reached up, her gloved hand cupping his cheek. "You're a good man, Alex. A real good man." Her thumb stroked his skin. "With a real, real good cock."
He chuckled without leaning into her touch. "Go to sleep, Anna Marie."
Her eyes were already closing. As he turned to leave, her voice, soft and slurred with sleep and bourbon, followed him to the door.
"Love ya… sugar…"
Did his heart skip a beat? Yes. Yes, it did.
***
The next morning, Alex woke up late. He was mildly hung over. Fortunately, Rogue wasn't awake so it wasn't that bad.
"I should make breakfast," he murmured. Rogue drank a lot and the thing with hungover women was that they liked to eat. Angela was the biggest example of that. She could eat a whole feast after a night out at a bar.
Alex was at the stove, clad in a pair of loose pajama pants and a thin t-shirt, focused on the simple task of making tea and eggs. The morning sun streamed through the windows, warming the marble floors.
He tried not to think about last night. He did anyway. Rogue had been here with him for a week now. They talked, they got closer, and there was no way around it. They were going to fuck. Now, when that was going to happen was difficult to say.
'Hopefully soon.'
A soft, padding sound entered his awareness. Bare feet on the cool tiles of his floor.
Alex turned.
Rogue stood in the doorway, completely naked and smirking.
His cock lurched. His brain corrected itself. 'Hopefully now.'
The morning light caressed her skin, highlighting every curve, every dip and swell. Her arms were stretched and holding onto the archway erotically. She smirked, then began walking again. Her E-cup breasts bounced with a gentle, hypnotic jiggle as she walked. Her nipples were dark pink and erect. Her stomach was soft, leading down to the glorious, wide flare of her hips. And her ass—that fuckin' ass—wobbled with each step.
Rogue did a little twirl and giggle. He saw the full scope of it: her booty cheeks swaying independently, a breathtaking display of thicc, ripe flesh. A nude mutant goddess coming to him.
Alex froze, the spatula hovering over the pan. His mouth went dry.
Rogue didn't speak, just kept giggling. She just walked toward him, her eyes locked on his.
"G-g-good morning," said Alex, gulping. He had to turn back over to focus on breakfast. He…just had to. His cock totally wasn't twitching and returning to life.
"Good morning, sugah~!"
Her thick greeting was marked with her tits pressing against his back. What a wonderful feeling it was. It was a perfect fit: her tits squished against his spine, her belly pressed into the curve of his lower back, and her hips nestled against his ass.
He could feel every inch of her.
"Mm, making food for me already? You're such a sweetie," she whispered into his ear in that erotic accent of hers. Her hands slid around his waist, fingers deftly finding the buckle of his pajama pants.
"R-Rogue…"
"Mhm?"
Ziiip!
"Anna Marie," he stammered, a protest forming in his throat. "I, um—"
"You're so cute, aren't you?"
She tugged at the drawstring, loosening the pants, and then she slid them down over his hips. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him standing there in just his t-shirt, completely exposed from the waist down.
"No boxers? Mmm, you really are bold."
More like he forgot to wear them…
Her hands didn't retreat. One slid around to his front, her palm settling on his lower abdomen. The other went lower. You know where it went. .
"You make a damn good breakfast," she murmured, her breath hot on his neck. "But I'm hungry for somethin' else."
Her hand moved and closed around his cock.
His spine straightened. When a man's cock was grabbed, it was like the inner soldier in them activated. Her glove-less fingers—skin-to-skin, a miracle she was still reveling in—wrapped around his flaccid cock. It was soft, but even soft it was a monster. Ten inches of thick, heavy flesh lay in her grasp. A sleeping giant of a penis.
Her palm went down to cup his balls. They were like two ripe peaches in a sac, full and heavy.
"I'm going to wake you up~!"
Grabbing a hold of his cock, she began to jerk him off.
It wasn't a quick, frantic jerk. It was a slow, deep, glove-free handjob. Her fingers stroked along his length, from the base all the way to the tip. She squeezed gently, then loosened, then squeezed again, a rhythmic, sensual massage. Her other hand stayed on his stomach, holding him still.
"Feel that?" Rogue whispered, her breasts pressing harder into his back. "Feel my hand on you? Skin on skin. No barriers. No fear. I can touch you anywhere. I can do anything."
His cock grew. Oh yes, it grew, already semi-hard. Already bigger than her husband could ever be. "Y-yeah?" he panted out.
"Oh yeah. I haven't given a handjob like this to anyone." The following whisper made his cock spew out pre-cum. "Not even my husband~!"
He was fully fucking hard now.
Drip, drip!
Alex groaned and his head tilted back, resting against her shoulder. His eyes closed. The handjob was slightly clumsy and full of love and passion. Her hand was warm, slightly rough from her years of fighting, but the motion was tender. She was exploring his big, fat cock, learning the texture of his skin, the pulse of blood flowing harder and harder.
His rockhard dick drove into the stove's oven. With his erection, it was like ramming into it. Rogue pulled him back further and jerked him off harder. He could barely focus, only groan. Rogue stopped three feet away from the kitchen island, still pressed behind him. The kettle of tea began to boil and Alex could see it in full view.
"Your cock is so fuckin' big, Alex," she continued, her voice a seductive purr in his ear. She squeezed again, and he felt the first real twitch, the first surge of pre-cum. This wasn't some pathetic drip, these were long oozing strings of cum. His twelve inch cock began to thicken in her hand. "It's gettin' even harder for me. Just from my hand. Just from my voice. You like that? You like a married woman rubbin' your huge dick while you cook her eggs?"
"Yes," he hissed, his hands opening and closing. As the eggs fried, his cock kept spewing out pre-cum. He was far away from it now. He could just watch and relax.
"Good boy," she praised, giggling. Rogue focused on the head now, rubbing the broad, smooth tip with her palm, circling the sensitive ridge. "This is just a handjob. A fuckin' amazing handjob. A handjob ain't cheating, right? It's just… helpin' a friend relax."
"Y-yeah. Yeah…oh fuck, Rogue…"
Her words were a justification for the lust pumping through both of them. Alex's cock was straining, every vein swelling under her ministrations. It was almost thirteen inches now, a true monster, thick as a fist, heavy as lead.
Here was the thing: he hadn't fucked anyone or jerked off in weeks.
"You're so sensitive~!"
Giggling again, Rogue's hand moved faster, her grip tightening. She pumped him, her wrist working in a smooth, expert motion. Her other hand slid down from his stomach to join the first, both hands now working his shaft, one near the base, the other near the tip, creating a devastating, double-handed rhythm.
"Mmm, you wanna fuck me, Alex? You wanna put this beast inside me?"
"God, yes," he gasped. The pleasure was building, a tight coil in his balls, a pressure in his nutsack. He was close. So close. The image of her naked behind him, her hands on him, her voice in his ear—it was too much. He was about to explode.
Rogue sensed it. She felt the tremors in his cock, the way his balls drew up tight. She gave a few more frantic, perfect strokes, then…
Rogue stopped.
Rogue released him completely.
Her hands pulled away.
Alex gasped, his dick jolting as if shocked. He almost keeled over. The climax that was seconds away retreated, leaving him painfully, agonizingly on the edge. His cock stood fully erect, a furious, twelve-inch column of angry flesh, pointing straight out, throbbing with unmet need. Pre-cum fell like a waterfall.
He turned around, his eyes wild.
Rogue had stepped back. She was leaning against the kitchen island, one hand braced on the cool marble. She did it on purpose. Her tits were heaving with her breath, her nipples hard and dark. Her hips were cocked, one leg slightly bent, putting her incredible ass on display. And between her thighs, her pussy was bare, shaven, a slick, pink slit glistening with her own wetness. She was soaked.
Rogue looked at his cock, her green eyes wide, her lips parted. She was staring at it like it was a work of art, a holy relic—
"A fuckin' miracle…"
Alex stared at her just as much she stared at him.
"Look at that…look at that fuckin' thing." Her gaze traveled from the thick, pulsing base, up the veined shaft, to the swollen, red-tinged head. "It's… it's angry. It's mad at me for stopping. It wants to fuck. It wants to punish me."
Alex inhaled sharply.
Rogue bit her bottom lip. "My husband… Remy… he's a handsome man. He's tall. He's strong. He's got muscles in places you don't. But his cock…" She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "When he's hard, he's maybe… seven inches? A good size. A nice size. But this…" Her eyes locked back on Alex's throbbing erection. "This is a dick that could split a woman in two. Your balls… they're like fuckin' apples. His are… little plums. You have him beat, Alex. In the one way that matters most to a woman like me right now. In spades."
Alex didn't speak. He just looked at her, at her nude body, at her hungry eyes, at the wetness between her legs. His cock twitched, a violent jerk of need.
The rational part of his brain—the part that knew she was married, the part that knew this was a line they couldn't cross—shrieked a final warning.
Then it shut down.
'Fuck it.'
He walked toward her.
Three steps. His cock bobbed with each movement, a heavy, intimidating pendulum.
He stopped right before her, dick poking her thigh. He cupped her face with both hands and kissed her.
His tongue plunged into her mouth. Rogue gasped, then moaned, her hands flying up to grip his shoulders. She kissed him back with equal ferocity, her teeth clashing against his, her tongue tangling with his.
They pressed into each other.
His raging cock became sandwiched between her thighs. It was wonderful to feel her dripping cunt and the valley of thicc thighs. He could feel her pussy lips brushing against the underside of his dick. Hot, soft, slick flesh cradling his hardest, most desperate part.
The stud broke the kiss, his eyes blazing. Without a word, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her. She was strong, but he was fueled by pure lust, and he hoisted her easily, turning her and depositing her on her back on the kitchen island.
"O-oh my~! You brute!" Rogue giggled out as he pushed her legs up, folding them, and then draping them over his shoulders. Her calves rested on his back, her thighs spread wide, opening her pussy completely to him.
From this angle, her pussy was right fucking there. The lips were swollen, parted, glistening with her juice. The clit was a hard, pink pearl begging for attention. And the entrance itself was a hole to be conquered.
To think she was married and this fucking needy…!
Rogue looked down her own body, from tits to cunt. Her eyes then locked on his cock as he positioned himself. He slapped his cock against her pussy, the thick head tapping against her wet lips. Thwap, thwap, thwap. Her whole body shuddered.
"Fuck," she moaned, her hands gripping the edge of the marble counter. "Do it. Please. Fuck me."
Alex didn't hesitate. He positioned the head of his cock at her entrance. It was so wide, so girthy, that it seemed impossible. Her pussy lips stretched around the tip, trying to accommodate the invasion.
He pushed.
The head slipped inside.
Rogue's eyes flew wide. A choked gasp escaped her lips.
"Oh my god~!"
She giggled, then gasped. Remy's cock slid in easy. This… this was a stretch. She felt her inner walls, so used to her husband's size, being forced apart. Her pussy clenched instinctively, trying to grip him, but he was too big. It was like trying to hold a boulder.
'Sorry, Remy—'
The first inch was inside, then the second. Rogue squirmed, and then moaned when the fourth inch arrived.
Her fleeting, meaningless apology vanished instantly under the tidal wave of pleasure.
'Sorry, husband, but this dick is gonna ruin me. This dick is gonna change me forever—!'
Alex pushed deeper.
Seven fucking inches. All of Gambit's cock—and Alex still had more to go.
He didn't go slow. He drove his cock into her with one long, steady, powerful thrust. He buried himself to the root and stayed.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK—!"
It wasn't a scream of pain. It was a scream of loving ecstasy. It was full of joy. Her body arched off the marble, her back bending, her tits jutting upward. Her hands scrabbled at the counter, finding no purchase. He was in. All of him. Every fucking inch of that twelve-inch monster was inside her, stretching her, filling her, possessing her.
"Fuck!" she shrieked, her voice echoing in the kitchen. "Oh fuck, Alex! It's so fuckin' big! It's so deep!"
"I'm going to move."
"Fucking—DO IT~!!"
He pulled back, almost all the way out, then slammed back in. The table shook. The plates and utensils on the counter rattled.
"Oh love—"
Thrust!
"Oh SUGAR—!"
Thrust!
His thrusts sent a shockwave through her cunt and her nervous system. Each one made her tits jounce. Each one made her ass cheeks ripple against the hard surface.
Rogue was loud. She moaned loud, she fucked loud, she screamed loud. Her voice was a continuous stream of filthy, appreciative, desperate praise.
"Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me with that fuckin' cock!" she yelled, her head thrashing side to side. "It's so fuckin' good! It's so much better! Better than anything!"
Compared to Gambit? This cock was superior. It wasn't just about size. It was about the force. The power. The way it reshaped her insides, claiming territory her husband's cock never touched. It was hitting spots she'd never felt before. A deep, internal spot that made her vision blur. A spot that made her toes curl and her legs tremble.
"O–okay! OKAY!! Maybe size DOES matter!!"
Rogue moaned, then grinned, then just lay there and let Alex fuck her.
Alex fucked her like a man on a mission. 'Those tits…!'
Jiggle, jiggle, jiggle.
The harder he fucked, the more they jiggled.
His hands gripped her thighs, holding her legs over his shoulders. His hips pistoned, driving his cock into her with a wet, slapping rhythm. The slick, meaty, repetitive thrust-thrust-thrust that filled the room was always accompanied by—
"CUMMIIING~!!"
Alex smiled. There it was.
The brown-white hair, the big tits, the ass…
"THIS COCCCK! DRILLING INTO MY POOR PUUUSY!!"
It was a dream come true—for both of them. For Alex, he got to fuck a woman that couldn't be fucked. While Rogue…
"CUMMIIING!!! I'VE NEVER CUM TWICE IN A ROOOW!!!"
Rogue's pussy was gushing. Her wetness coated his shaft, dripped down onto the marble, made the whole act slick and messy. She was squirting. With each deep drive, a small burst of clear fluid would erupt from her, adding to the mess, adding to the sensation. She was orgasming easily, almost constantly. Small, intense peaks that made her shriek, then larger, rolling waves that made her sob.
"I'm CUMMIING!" Rogue cried out with a stupider, messier grin. "AGAAIN~!!! Fuck, I'm CUMMIIING again! Your cock is makin' me cum so EASY!"
Her hands reached for him, grabbing his t-shirt, pulling him closer. She wanted him deeper. She wanted him harder. She wanted this fuckin' dick to ruin her, to break her, to make her forget every other cock she'd ever had.
Alex was lost in it. The feel of her tight, stretched pussy around his shaft was heaven. "So tight! Fuck!"
It was like Gambit never fucked her! Probably because after one or two orgasms, they had to stop.
But Alex? He didn't have to. A single orgasm could never help a woman feel true pleasure. It was but a pit stop—and Alex hated those. Her face contorted in pleasure, her tits bouncing, her ass shaking with each impact.
This was how Rogue deserved to be fucked.
Not from a husband that had to hold back, but by a lover that made her experience every range of emotions.
His cock was huge and throbbing inside her, a living, demanding entity. It swelled even more, the veins standing out like cords. He could feel his own climax building, a tidal wave of pleasure gathering in his balls, ready to erupt.
Rogue felt it. She felt the way his cock began to pulse inside her. Her eyes, hazy with pleasure, focused on his face.
"You're gonna cum," she moaned, her voice broken. "You're gonna fuckin' cum inside me. You can. Y-you can do it."
"Rogue—!"
"You can!" Rogue shrieked with a gasp. "R-Remy never could. He had to pull out. ALWAYS! But youuu! You and this COCK can fill me up. Y-you can pump your fuckin' seed right into my womb~!!"
The idea—the reality—of it sent a new spike of pleasure through her. A creampie. Something she'd never had. Something she'd never allowed. But with Alex, with this cock, she wanted it. She needed it.
"Do it!" she begged, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Cum inside me! Fill me up! I want it! I want your fuckin' cum!"
"You want it…!" He buried himself as deep as he could go, his balls pressed tight against her. He held there, gasping. "Here it is, Anna! Your first creampie!"
"M-my…!"
Her real name.
Spurt, spurt, spurt, spuuurt!
Her first creampie.
The stud pumped his seed into her, jet after jet, filling the stretched space he'd carved inside her. It was too much for a beginner. He could feel his cum spurting, coating her walls, pooling deep within her.
Rogue felt it. The hot, sudden gush inside her. The fullness beyond the fullness. Her eyes rolled back. A final, piercing scream tore from her lips as her own orgasm peaked, triggered by being filled for once. She clenched around him, her pussy muscles milking his cock, trying to pull every last drop from him.
Alex did not pull out. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He kept pumping, his hips making small thrusts as he emptied himself completely into her.
When the last shudder passed, he was still inside her, still connected. He was breathing like a racehorse, trembling weakly. Rogue was beneath him, panting, her body slick with sweat and their mixed fluids.
Slowly, Anna reached up. Her hands, shaky, pulled his face down to hers. She kissed him, a slow, deep, exhausted kiss. Her tongue tasted his lips, his breath.
"Don't pull out," she whispered against his mouth. "Just stay. Keep it in."
"Anna…"
"Y-yes…" She kissed him again. "C-call me…Anna…"
He obeyed. He stayed buried, his cock still semi-hard inside her, his cum still leaking out around the edges of their connection. He could feel it—a slow, warm trickle escaping her stretched pussy lips, dripping down onto the marble table.
Drip.
Drip.
Was this the end?
No. Not by a long shot. But right now, they just wanted to bask in each other. This was Anna Marie's first creampie, after all.
…
…
…
"I'm cumming! I'm fuckin' CUMMING! Oh fuck—!"
Of course, it wasn't done yet. Job wasn't done, fucking wasn't done, the orgasms weren't done. Rogue wasn't done. She promised him, didn't she?
"He's a good man. Remy is… he's my heart. But he's not here. And you are. And you have this… this fuckin'… thing between your legs that's been drivin' me crazy for day. And I can touch you. Do you have any idea what that means to me? It's not just the sex—though, fuck, I wanna ride that cock until I scream. It's the… the normalcy. I could hold your hand walkin' down the street. I could kiss you goodnight. I haven't been able to do that without concentratin' since I was a teenager."
Ride him until she screamed.
Count that promised fulfilled.
"CUMMIIING AGAIIIN!! THIS HORSE FUCKING COOOCCCK! MAKING ME CUM AGAIIINI~!!"
Sorry, Gambit.
Rogue screamed proudly and her back arching so severely, her shoulders lifted off the cool surface. Her hands, which had been gripping the edge, had found purchase in Alex's thighs. Oh yes, she was no longer bottoming. She was on top.
"Your cock! It's so much fuckin' BIGGER than my GAMBIT'S!"
The confession was the most explicit truth she'd ever uttered. It wasn't just an observation; it was a worshipful, ecstatic acknowledgment of superiority. His cock was that much bigger and that much better. It was reality. The squeezes of her cunt were desperate and trying to pull him deeper, to fuse him inside her in a way she never did with her husband.
Alex's reaction? A little smile. He didn't want to disrespect the hero. He was a funny, cool guy and he was somewhat of an underrated hero in Marvel Rivals.
"Sorry, Gambit but…" His hips drew back, the wet, sucking sound of his thick shaft sliding through her clenched passage. "I love fucking your wife!"
Wham, wham, wham!
The married woman bounced on his dick like he was the husband. He saw her eyes, hazy with pleasure, focus on the sight of his glistening, monstrous cock as it emerged, inch by thick inch, coated in their combined fluids. Upon the tenth thrust, Rogue went further out than ever before. But before the broad head could pop free, Rogue dropped back down.
"FUUUCK—!"
Rogue orgasmed instantly, head thrown back.
"T-THIS FUCKING MOOOONSTER COCCCK~!!"
But she didn't stop. Rogue was impossibly lewd and impossibly phenomenal at bouncing on dick.
Bounce after bounce earned groan after groan. Alex vaguely met his thrusts with an eager lift but frankly, it was all Rogue. Her ass, that magnificent, fat ass, slapped against his thighs with every downward plunge she made.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
The cheeks rippled on impact, a mesmerizing display of jiggling flesh. Alex's hands slid over to cup the full, heavy globes. His fingers sank into the soft pillowy flesh, squeezing hard, feeling the muscle and the fat. Controlling the rhythm of her bounce was impossible.
This ass was too fucking fat. This ass jiggled too much.
This ass slammed down too fucking good.
"Up and down, sugar," Rogue panted in a broken, Southern melody of bliss. "Make me ride it! Make me bounce on this fuckin' tree trunk you call a dick!"
Her tits were a wild, jiggling spectacle. With every downward drive, her E-cup breasts would flatten momentarily against her chest before rebounding, swinging up, then slapping together as she came down again. For Alex, everything was happening in slow motion.
His cock and his eyes were experiencing the might of a Southern woman.
"Ngggh…!"
Thrust, thrust, thrust!
"Ohhh! Ohhh fuuuck! Oh yes!! You fucking STUD!!" Rogue shrieked happily. So happily that even Gambit had never seen this side of his wife. This joy and orgasmic trembling, it was all new to Rogue herself. A married woman.
She herself couldn't believe it. Was this why women had affairs? Well, no fucking wonder!
Alex fucked up into her, his abs tightening with each powerful upward surge. The table groaned in protest. By the way her pussy accepted and celebrated the brutal, glorious punishment of his cock, he squeezed her ass harder, spreading the cheeks slightly.
"You love this cock! I can feel it!" Alex grunted. "Your pussy is just…ngggh!"
"I love it! I do~!!" she screamed, the words torn from her soul. "I fuckin' loooove it! I ain't never felt nothin' like it! Remy's is a fuckin' TOOTHPICK compared to this! A goddamn cocktail sausage! This… THIS ISSS!! THIS IS COCCCKKK! REAL DIIIICK~!!"
Her analogy was crude, perfect, and sincere. He apologized to Gambit for taking his wife this way. It was one to just fuck, it was another to be fuck her and be completely superior in the act. Anna Marie was feasting on him, and he was feasting on her reactions. Her pussy was a soaked, scorching-hot paradise, molded perfectly around his shape now, as if her hole was being permanently remade to fit him.
Alex fucked and pistoned into her, his balls slapping a wet rhythm against her ass. He demanded more without even asking.
"YOU'RE DEEPER!" Rogue cried, her head thrashing. "He never got this deep! You're hittin' a spot I didn't even know I had! It's like you're fuckin' my soul! And the thickness… sweet Jesus…sweet Jessuuuus~!! It's like you're splittin' me in two every time you shove it back in! I can feel every fuckin' vein on your dick! I can feel your heartbeat in the head!"
He shifted his grip, pulling her ass cheeks down onto him with even more force, ensuring she took every millimeter. The angle changed slightly, and the broad crown of his cock began to grind directly against a specific, swollen patch deep inside her.
Rogue's eyes flew open, her mouth forming a silent 'O' before another shattered scream emerged. "THERE! RIGHT THERE! DON'T YOU DARE STOP! FUCK THAT SPOT! RUIN IT! MAKE IT SO ONLY YOUR COCK CAN EVER TOUCH IT AGAIN!"
Southern women were said to have pride. Not only submit to a man worthy of them.
Well, Alex was worthy. More than worthy, actually. Rogue was begging for her own corruption, for the permanent branding of his superiority onto her married pussy. She made vows and completely fucking disregarded them. She was thicc bitch needing dick. Nothing more, nothing less.
Alex grinned and complied, focusing his thrusts, hammering that exquisite, deep zone with godly, punishing accuracy. It was hard to thrust while laying down on marble and not a bed, but Alex made it work.
Her next orgasm was practically a seizure. What number was it? Please, easily in the dozens. Already a fucking record. With Gambit, whenever sex got too intense, they had to pause.
But with Alex?
"I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING ALL OVER YOUR HUGE FUCKIN' DICK!"
Rogue could sob. Rogue could let the overwhelming pleasure take over and stream tears from the corners of her eyes. Her body convulsed, the ripples in her ass and tits becoming uncontrollable tremors. She was a mess of sweat, tears, squirt, and cum, and she was the most beautiful married woman he had ever seen.
"And I'm cumming too!"
"YESSSSHHH~!"
Drool rolled out as she shrieked and he crushed his pelvis bone against her fat ass. He held there, his body rigid, as his cock pulsed violently inside her. Rope after thick rope of hot cum jetted from him, filling the already-stuffed channel. He was claiming her, breeding her, marking her insides as his in a way her husband never could.
Rogue felt it all. The hot, liquid bursts deep within her, each one making her clench and spasm anew. "Yesss… fill me up… pump your fuckin' seed in me…" she slurred, her consciousness fraying at the edges from sensory overload. "More than he ever could… so much more…"
He kept pumping, even after the intense pulses subsided, giving shallow, grinding thrusts to work out the last few drops. Finally, spent, he fell back down on the kitchen island marble. His arms fell out, spread. He was still inside her, still connected.
Slowly, Rogue's hands came up. They were trembling. She cradled his face, her thumbs stroking his cheekbones. She pulled him down and kissed him.
"Mmmmhh…!" Her tongue plunged into his mouth, tasting him, sharing the breath he'd stolen from her lungs.
They kissed until their lungs burned, only breaking apart when the need for air became imperative. But they didn't move. Foreheads touched. His cock remained hard and nestled within her well-used, dripping pussy.
"Well," Rogue breathed, a hysterical giggle bubbling up. "Ain't that one hell of a 'good morning'."
Alex smiled back and also laughed.
***
An hour later, they walked out to the pool area, both completely nude. It was what? Twelve o'clock? Time hardly mattered when neither went to work. They just enjoyed life.
Rogue loved it.
Thwap, thwap, thwap!
Alex's flaccid cock swung between his thighs with each step. Rogue walked beside him until she decided to skip ahead, tits jiggling.
Alex's eyes Drifted to the spectacular sway of her ass. Each cheek moved independently, a glorious, fat wobble with every step, the skin still faintly reddened from his forceful grip. The sight alone was enough to make his soft cock give an interested twitch.
"See somethin' you like, sugar?" Rogue drawled, not even turning her head, a knowing smile on her lips.
"Just admiring the view," Alex said, clearing his throat with a smile. "It's a hell of a view."
At the cusp of the pool, she stopped and giggled. She did that a lot. He liked it.
"Compliments'll get you everywhere," Rogue chuckled. She stretched her arms over her head, making her tits lift and her back arch, putting every magnificent curve on jiggle-display. "God, I needed that. I needed to get fucked. Properly. Not just… love makin'. But fucked. Until I couldn't see straight."
"I think we accomplished that," Alex said, grinning as he joined her at the pool's edge. The water reflected them fully.
"You think?" Rogue teased, turning to face him. Her eyes deliberately trailed down his body, lingering on his soft monster. "I'd say you exceeded expectations. By a country mile." She stepped closer, her fingers lightly tracing the length of his flaccid shaft, from the base to the tip. It twitched again under her touch. "Even all tired out, it's still a handful. A fuckin' armful."
"What are you, a size queen?"
"A little bit. Or maybe you made me." She laughed, a bright, carefree sound, and then dove into the pool. She surfaced, slicking her hair back, water cascading over her shoulders and breasts. "C'mon in! Water's perfect!"
Alex followed, sliding into the cool, refreshing water. He swam to the shallower end where he could sit on a submerged bench, the water lapping at his chest.
"Mind if I join ya?"
A moment later, Rogue settled herself in his lap, her back against his chest. Her ass, that incredible ass, settled perfectly against his groin. Even through the water, he could feel the soft, pillowy warmth of her cheeks against his thighs and his now-stirring cock.
"You do whatever you want, don't you Anna?" Alex said, smiling.
"Mhm. It's my best feature~"
Anna Marie sighed, a long, contented sound, and leaned her head back on his shoulder. For a while, there was just pleasant silence, broken only by the gentle lap of water and the distant call of a bird. The sun was warm on their faces. Alex wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands resting on her soft stomach.
The young woman began to hum. It was a tune he didn't recognize, something slow and bluesy, born in the very soil of Mississippi. The humming turned into soft, wordless singing.
The song faded. She was quiet for another minute, her fingers tracing patterns on his forearms. The mutant woman known as Rogue didn't seem to be here anymore.
This was Anna Marie.
"Can't believe it," she said softly, her Southern accent more pronounced in the quiet. "All the fights. All the pain. The years of bein' so damn careful I could barely hug my own teammates. The fear… always the fear. That I'd hurt someone I loved. That I'd lose myself in someone else." She turned her head, her cheek resting against his. "And it all led here. To this. To sittin' naked in a pool, on the lap of a man with a fuckin' anaconda between his legs, feelin' more relaxed than I have in my entire life."
Anna shifted, turning her body to face him. Her green eyes were serious, searching his. Her wet fingers came up, tracing the line of his jaw, then crawling over his chin.
"It led to you, Alex," she whispered. "To this feelin'. This… peace. This fuckin' incredible, nasty, glorious sex. I love it. I love this. Just sittin' here. Bein' touched. Not havin' to hold back a single, solitary thing."
The brunette pulled his face to hers and kissed him. It was a sweet kiss, tender, full of a profound gratitude that went beyond the physical.
"Anna…"
"I love you," she said against his lips without fear. It stunned Alex. "Maybe it's too fast. Maybe it's the pheromones talkin' after that dickin' you just gave me. But I don't care. I love the man who gave me my touch back. I love the man who makes me feel like a woman, not a weapon. I love every fuckin' inch of that monster cock you just buried inside me."
She kissed him again, deeper, her tongue sliding against his. When she pulled back, her expression was one of serene, unshakable conviction. Alex…again, he couldn't believe it.
"Aren't you…?" He looked away. He didn't want to say it.
"As for my marriage? Remy… Gambit… he's my heart. I do love him. He's a part of me." She took a deep breath, her breasts pressing against his chest. "But this? This is an affair I have zero regrets over! Not one. I'd do it all again in a heartbeat."
"...really?"
"Really."
This wasn't a mistake to be mourned; it was a choice to be celebrated. She smiled, a radiant, happy smile, and it was here she convinced Alex. She adjusted herself to straddle him, her breasts pressing flat against his chest, her nose nuzzling his.
"Now," Anna murmured, her voice dropping to a seductive purr. "Grope this fat ass of mine while you kiss me. I wanna make out like teenagers who just discovered what their parts are for."
"Ha. With pleasure."
The young man's hands slid from her waist, around the glorious, sweeping curve of her hips, and cupped the full, round mounds of her ass. He squeezed, kneading the soft, buoyant flesh, feeling it spill between his fingers even underwater. He pulled her tighter against him, his cock, now fully re-awakened and thickening against her stomach.
But he wasn't going to fuck her. Not yet. Now was the time to kiss and love.
Anna moaned into his mouth as his hands took possession of her ass. She kissed him with a sensual affection, with hunger that wanted him for more than his big dick. Her tongue dancing with his because it wanted to know him. It was a kiss of uncomplicated happiness—the kiss of a woman who had found exactly what she needed, consequences be damned. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him close.
Rogue or Anna Marie—either name did not matter.
What mattered was that this poor, tortured woman had finally fallen in love with a man that she could truly, genuinely relax around.