Avengers vs. X-men XXX - Part 5

The velvet-draped balcony overlooks a city that seems too bright, almost gaudy, yet Stark Tower's reflected lights settle across her bare skin like warm lacquer. Storm traces her fingertip along Tony's jaw, the contact deliberate. He leans in to capture a nipple between his lips, drawing it slowly, tightening the muscle with a wet pull. She shivers, lifts one thigh across his hip, and lowers herself onto his cock with a small, deliberate snap of muscle. Her breath halts for one perfect second, then comes out on a husky laugh as she starts to rise and sink. Under her, on the low chaise, Jean keeps her open mouth around Rogue's wet folds, her tongue flicking with almost clinical precision. Skin touches skin without resistance—Storm does not siphon Jean, Rogue controls her absorption—and the room fills with the clean, wet sounds of three bodies using four hands. Sweat collects at the small of Storm's back; Tony traces it up to the nape of her neck, angling her forward to deepen the thrust. From below, laser light from a passing helicopter sweeps their silhouettes across the sheet, transforming brief patches of skin into moving maps of tension. Jean slips two fingers inside Rogue, palm grinding against the slick hood of her clit; Rogue arches, eyes half-closed. None of it is fantasy or parody; it is simply physics. When Storm's coming starts, it is sudden: a muffled oath, a sudden contraction around Tony, and two breaths later the two of them topple sideways, already reaching for the others. They are still hard; there is, after all, an entire city to fuck.