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Stamina 4
🕑 Added 2025-04-28 23:00:01 +0000 UTCWhen his cockhead finally stopped feeding her, Betsy reluctantly let go of his prick. It was still hard. She stuck it lovingly back inside his sweatpants, wondering when it would go limp. Then she fell back against the stairs, breathing deep, all but overwhelmed by having so much of Scott down her throat and in her mouth. The musk of his balls even in her nostrils.
She squeezed her legs together and nearly came, enormously turned on. Groaning, she forced her legs open wide, exposing how prominent her engorged cuntlips were against the crotch of her uniform.
“Eat my pussy, Scott. I know how much you want to finish the job, now that you’ve gotten me so wet…”
“Fuck that, fuck me,” Emma said, taking full advantage of her closeness to kiss Scott’s broad shoulder. “I knew that little slut can’t drain you, not like I can. You’re still hard. Find something you can bend me over and use me—you know I’m the best cock holster there is.”
Scott did neither. He slung Emma over his shoulder, then reached down and picked Betsy up with the same ease, throwing her over his other shoulder. Grunting a little at the combined weight, he carried them the rest of the way up the stairs.
“Scott!” Emma keened.
“Scott, where are we going?” Betsy whined alongside her. “I don’t want to go anywhere! I’m fine fucking right here!”
“I’m not,” Scott retorted. “With how many X-Men there are these days, we’re lucky no one’s interrupted us already.”
But no one did interrupt them, on the way to his apartment or after he’d carried Emma and Betsy inside it. Setting them down on the bed, then stripping them. Betsy could only pout sultrily as she was undressed—a little irritated at how little time it took, since he only shucked off her one-piece, before moving onto Emma. Who got to enjoy plenty of his touches as he wrestled her out of everything she wore.
Betsy popped her lips at seeing Emma naked. Impressive, she had to admit. “Your turn now, Scott. Take it all off and have us both.”
“Both?” Emma cried. “You only get to watch, my little bint. Since you failed so utterly to properly tend his cock, Scott will graciously let me show you how it’s done, for future reference…”
Scott sat down on the bed. The only sign of the strain he’d been under, dominating and satisfying the two women, was how he leaned against the bedpost. “Shut up and listen. I have decided to fuck both of you, but this is no orgy. It’s a training program.
“Quelle surprise,” Emma muttered.
“I don’t understand, Scott,” Betsy protested.
“You don’t? Haven’t you known him more than five minutes?”
“Quiet, both of you,” Scott said firmly. “We’ve well-established how lax Emma has become in her training.”
Emma groaned. “What need have I for training? I’m the White Queen! No one is a better telepath!”
“You’re not taking this well. I’m going to get some jewelry.” And Scott got up to go to the jewelry box at Emma’s vanity. “I’ve tried punishing you, Emma, but you clearly enjoy that too much for it to be an effective incentive.”
“Tape her mouth shut,” Betsy suggested. “One hour without getting her little bon mots in and she’ll be dying to let everyone know how clever she is.”
“At least I have something to say rather than parading around—”
“As I was saying…” Scott came back to drape a pearl necklace around Emma’s neck. She did have to admit how fetching it was on her pale, bare skin. “You may be hard to discipline, but it’s easy to motivate you. Your sense of competition is second to none.”
He held out a pair of earrings to Betsy, who graciously put them in.
“Scott!” Emma cried. “Those are mine!”
“But they look so good on me,” Betsy simpered at her.
Emma started to turn to diamond. But Scott’s hand on her throat, whether able to harm her or not, brought her sense of submission reeling back. She looked excitedly into the red that passed for Scott’s eyes.
“From now on,” he informed her, “you’ll be competing with Betsy. Achieve your training metrics, as set by me, and you’ll be rewarded. Or punished. Whichever you prefer. But if you don’t, I’ll pay attention to Betsy instead. And I know how you do without attention.”
Emma scowled ferociously. “You just want to fuck her. Asking me to outperform a ninja…”
“You won’t have to beat her in a footrace. Just do as many push-ups and pull-ups and other exercises as I deem satisfactory.”
Now it was Betsy’s turn to do a little moue. “So she gets through spin class and you give her your cock, but I can climb the side of the bell tower and I get nothing?”
“I’m sure we can think up a few ways to include you, Betts. You know Emma. She’ll need constant motivation to keep from falling into bad habits.”
Betsy looked over Emma critically. “Yes. I can see she’ll fall short plenty. We can only hope one day she’ll be as limber as me. And in the meantime, someone will have to keep the leader of the X-Men destressed…”
“You tart!” Emma spat at her. “I was a dancer for the Hellfire Club itself! I can do things with my body that you couldn’t even dream of!”
“When you were in your twenties, perhaps—”
“I’m twenty-nine!”
Scott put his hands on both women’s heads and suddenly there was no arguing, not a thought in their heads except what he might use them for next. They looked expectantly at Scott, both unconsciously licking their lips.
“I’ve just had an idea for a little exercise. Emma, I want you to do a yoga position. Something very flexible. And as long as you can hold it, I’ll do something unpleasant to Betsy.”
Betsy only smiled. “And why would I agree to that?”
“Because the unpleasant thing is my cock in your ass.”
Betsy shuddered. “Not totally unpleasant.”
Emma laughed. “Oh, believe me, that you most certainly can’t handle. You barely managed sucking him off.”
“I did a superb job of blowing him! Did you see how much he came?”
“Barely anything. You swallowed it all, didn’t you?”
“Ladies,” Scott interrupted. “Can the two of you put your money where your mouths are?”
Emma’s lips quirked into half-a-smile. “Just to show Betsy what I’m capable of… and why this is the last time she’ll be availing herself of my Scott.”
Betsy smirked right back at her. But, like it or not, she found herself enthralled watching Emma’s naked body go through the fluid but strenuous motions of a yoga warm-up with little visible effort.
She rose on her tiptoes high into the air, then threw her arms and legs back, the smooth skin flashing in the golden morning sun. Dropping to her hands, she shot her legs back, alternately at first, then together. She managed to make every movement look easy, breathing deep but not hard from the strain.
Betsy had to admire the physical conditioning—Emma really was a specimen of womanhood, even if not up to Scott’s standards. She could even say she marveled at Emma: those legs were more softly feminine than her own, with the chiseled muscle at Betsy’s calves and thighs. But both of them were well-shaped. And Emma’s fine breasts remained plump and teardrop shaped through every exertion; they were phenomenal whether or not Emma had been born with them.
Then Betsy glanced up and saw a glimmer of fire in Emma’s cold eyes. Fire that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe Betsy had missed it, focusing on those long legs, that slender waist, the firm ass. And the perfect display of breasts, a beautiful bust as excessive as it was well-sculpted.
The fire hinted at Emma enjoying their rivalry perhaps a little more even than winning, holding Betsy transfixed as Emma knelt down, locked her arms behind her back, and then leaned back until her head was almost touching the ground. The pose arching her back and thrusting out her breasts. Emma held herself that way, displaying her body from her vivid pink cunt to her still fiery eyes.
“Your turn now, Betts,” Scott said gently, but gentle because he knew there’d be no disagreement from her. “Turn over. Lie on your stomach facing Emma.”
