XCave.NET

Somewhere…remote,

“Mmph,” even with the fire blazing inside him, there hesitancy was clear in his movements. Still, with ‘primal nature’ rapidly overpowering the ‘learned culture’ a probing hand lifted up to rest on…

“Uhn…” the way her hand clamped onto his, his heart all but stopped. Maybe he had committed a mistake; maybe it was too much too soon. He should not have touched her like this…and especially not at this place.

Any moment now, offended by his actions she would break away. Any moment no… ‘Wha-!!’ …oowww.

Already heady and having been pushed even further by her grabbing his hand, now he just about lost it and had he not be this aroused, he surely would have passed out at what she did.
Not only did she tighten her grip on his wrist, she started to use her own hand to guide his, teach it how to move over her, over the soft fabric of her top, going down to its fringe then rising up again…only this time moving under it.

“W-Wuh…” they finally broke apart, the need for fresh air irritating them both. Invisible spikes seemed to be shooting through his entire being, all aimed towards a certain section of his physique.
“I’m sor-sorry,” he blurted out like a fool. “I shouldn’t have…”
“Sshh. Don’t.” A slender finger to his lips silenced the apology or any words from him, even as her other hand continued to guide him further onto…into her. One touch of the pebbled nub of a breast, and he all but came right there, right in the tight confines of his pants. “Don’t.”
“Bu…” Given their current state, although highly inappropriate, it was the Lord’s name that he called out, thankfully not aloud. “Uh-huh.”

“You want me to stop?” The vision straddling him asked softly.

“I-I…” he hesitated, his eyes clearly portraying his confusion. Not trusting himself with words, he just shook his head, lowered it to her shoulder…and almost fearfully, let his previously stilled fingers move and spread out.

When he finally did speak, it was just one word, an almost inaudible sigh…just one name, hers.

“Wanda.”


Smiling at the reverence in his voice, Wanda recalled that all this was new for him, that he had never done this…at least not to such an extent.

And now? Now she was going to be his first, and even though she wasn’t a virgin as him, in her own way it was all new for her too. Even with all her experiences, even with all her mistakes, both accidental and deliberate, she too was going to have a first, starting on a path that she had never been on before.

This was the first time that she was in love, real love, and not just physical…

‘No, don’t go there. Not now.’ She stopped herself, not wanting to think about it, not with him. With him, she could forget it all; forget that most of the things she had done, all her rebelling, had started with just one aim…just to get attention. ‘No, not just any attention. Not just any.’

It was the attention of a man who was always far too busy, always, especially when it came to his own progeny, his own children. It was almost as if they, she and her brother, were being punished…punished for something bad they did, for someone they had taken away from him.

But it wasn’t their fault, neither of them that their mother died giving birth to them.


“Wanda,” his soft whisper came across as a beacon of light to save her from the darkness that had seemed to have made home inside of her. “Liebchen?”

“I love you Kurt, I love you.” It was out before she could stop herself, not that she even wanted to. This wasn’t the first time that these words left her lips. That had been almost a month ago, and after the fear of the first time, each time she said these words it became easier to say them, especially when they, the words and her feelings were not only cherished but also returned.

“I-I love you too W-Wanda.”


Once again, they leaned in towards each other, neither of them noticing the car parked a short distance away, or the beady pair of eyes watching them…glaring at them.

---

Elsewhere,

“Ororo. Ororo?” For Ororo it was déjà vu as for the second time in as many months she found herself zoning out, causing those around her to hail her repeatedly. Only this time around, it wasn’t her friend and colleague Cecelia but the smooth cultured baritone of the school’s headmaster and her adopted father, Professor Charles Xavier that lanced into her daydreaming to bring her to the present.

“Uh-Yes Professor,” Ororo fumbled at the three concerned faces starring at her, lifting her hand for a quick and thankfully redundant drool-check.

“Ororo,” Scott leaned towards her. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yes Scott,” she gave him a small smile. “Why do you ask?”
“Maybe because you have been starring at that water glass for the last five minutes,” Jean piped up from the other side. “Something wrong? Are you feeling well?” Ever the doctor, the redhead’s second question was as clichéd as the ‘Do the carpet match the curtains?’ question that both the beauties had to face many a time, more than they’d wanted it, a lot more.

“Ororo,” Charles Xavier spoke from the other side of the table, his voice not of the Professor but of the father. “You seem…preoccupied. Is everything…”
“Its nothing Professor,” Ororo interjected, plastering on a bright-but-controlled smile for her father, before flashing the same to both her friends.

The three teachers had gathered for lunch and Jean had joined them in her own break time, something that both she and Moira were wont to do rather frequently.

“Nothing huh?” Jean conspiratorially smirked at her, correctly guessing the thoughts crowding her mind. ‘Something with the new friend of hers,’ she mused silently. “Is it…” she started.

“Its nothing,” Ororo snapped, causing her to shut up while confirming for her and both Charles and Scott that there was something major off with her. Though knowing her as they did, they knew better than to go around poking into her privacy.


As for Ororo herself, it wasn’t that she was feeling down. What it was that she did not want to tell anyone here about her dates with Logan, least of all to Scott, who had only recently stopped ranting about the ‘thug’ father of two of the school’s students.

It had been almost two months since she first met Mr. James Howlett nee Logan, six weeks since she first accepted his invitation to join him and his family at Marie’s Diner and four weeks from the first time they went out together, just the two of them.

Four weeks. Four weeks that had seen so much change for her. What had started with a semi-date in a ‘family’ restaurant of all places, had led to not one but two more outings. Even though she did not know about how Logan felt towards their dinners, Ororo herself had finally given in and with the last time accepted that it wasn’t just two people having dinner with each other in a public place, but rather two people on a date, her and Logan on a date…with each other.

Just as they were going to be tonight.

Moreover, the last time, they had even kissed. Well, okay, she was the one who kissed him, and granted it had been only a peck on the cheek, but still, it was something. It hadn’t taken Ororo very long to realize that maybe Logan was holding back, both due to his inexperience in formal dating as also her tensing up the first time around.

‘And whose fault is that?’ The Nubian beauty had cursed herself for her involuntary reaction after their second time out. It was that it was Logan who had leaned in towards her, his actions clearly foretelling a possible kissing situation…rather her ‘deer in headlights’ stance was at having a man; any man that close to her. Moreover, even though her silent reaction wasn’t all that ‘vocal’, it was loud enough for Logan to notice it and immediately back away.

It was two weeks before they went out the next time, and that was last week. Two weeks in which she had more than enough time to analyze and then re-analyze and then do it over again, her time with the ‘very different from her’, Logan. As expected, along with the good many bad things could and did come out of her mental musings, yet, even with the baggage of two daughters and an extended family (Marie and the others), difference in social backgrounds and circles, Ororo could not come with one concrete reason for why not to pursue this ‘development’ to its fullest. Not even ‘ghost’ of the man’s wife seemed to be a big enough of a wall. If anything, it only made the decision easier for her.

‘You two woulda gotten along great.’ She still recalled the ease with which Logan had said those words to her. It had been during second dinner that the conversation had taken a turn towards the ‘family’, the dead ones to be exact. While she had not gone in much detail about her parents, Logan did not hold anything back when talking about his beloved Mariko. Even though things should have gotten awkward and tense between them, Ororo, for her life could not help but smile at the naiveté of Logan’s comment, especially seeing that had Mariko still been alive, there would be no way that the two of them would be there at that time, in each other’s company, doing what they were doing.


“Ororo…” Charles started again, only to stop as Ororo started up from the table.

“Please excuse me.”

She needed to get away. She wanted to keep it a secret, at least for a while. ‘Just let it be just mine, just for a few days. Just me and him…just the two of us.’

Well, the two of them and just about everyone from the ‘Logan Posse’.

---

Elsewhere,

“WHAT!!”

Ever the brave, or rather ‘stupidly fearless’, Remy Lebeau, self titled ‘Casanova Supreme’ did not bat even an eye as he faced off against the other man. Not that he needed to, for if push came to shove, he was sure that he could out run the older and heavily built Logan…just as he had when ‘Da Wild Man’ had caught him with Marie for the first time. Thankfully, those days of chasing were a thing of a past.

“All Remy sayin’ is dat you should do sumt’ing.” He tried again.

“By groping her ass?” Logan tone was beyond incredulous.

“Remy not sayin’ dat you grope de ass,” well, in truth he was. “He just sayin’ dat when you put your hand on da woman’s waist just let it slides…”

“Yeah yeah,” Logan cut him, feeling all the more awkward at the way Remy was grop…caressing, ‘de imaginary woman’. “Let it slide lower and feel de curves. I got you the first time. Stop with the humpin’.”

“Well, den you-”

“Ain’t happenin’ Lebeau.” Turning away Logan shook his head, trying to get the visual that had formed at Remy’s words and actions. ‘Grope her ass.’ He mumbled to himself. ‘Who does he think she is? More’en that, who does he think I am?’ There was no way he was going to do such a thing to Ororo or for that matter to any other woman. At one time, he might have and did so such things…at one time when he was a half-animal half-man loner, all by his lonesome, with no one to call his own or someone who would call him theirs. Even if the baser part of him was still there, after all, one cannot just wipe away the past, even if he was still the Wolverine, he was also more, he was a father…of not one but two children, two girls. ‘Girls.’ That alone was enough for him to sit up straight and behave. After all, if he wanted his girls to be treated well and respected, he should set an example for them by his actions and not by his words…uh, most of the time.

‘Still, it is a nice ass…butt….behind. Yeah, behind.’

Besides, he wasn’t sure how Ororo felt towards…towards, ‘whatever this is we’ve got going on.’ The one time he made a move she had all tensed up. ‘Shouldn’t have listened to Mary and Butt-Brain here,’ he scowled at Remy.

“No Logan sugah,” he mimicked Marie, “Its done like this now.”

“De fillie needed to caressed,” even then frenchie was braying the same old ‘caressing’ tune.

‘Fuck it.’ Why did things have to be so difficult? So what if he wasn’t all sophisticated like her or have a highfalutin family. It hadn’t mattered before, neither to him and as far as he knew, neither to Ororo. ‘Heck, she’s seen what I am like and everyone here. It ain’t like I told her lies. She knows what I am? How I am?’

Barely had that thought sounded, another one rose to counter it.

‘But do you? Do you know her?’


Lost in his thoughts, it took Logan a few seconds to realize that he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Mr. Howlett. Mr. James Howlett?” Turning to the deep voice sounding from behind him, Logan found himself face to face, or face to nose with its owner.

“Yeah. Who wants ta’ know?” Logan studied the man before him. Blonde hair, blue eyes, height a couple or few inches taller than Logan, built like a linebacker. Even dressed in a plain white shirt and slightly worn jeans, a jacket draped over one arm, the stranger’s demeanor and physique literally shouted cop. ‘Nah. Not cop. More like…’

“Please allow me to introduce myself,” flashing a small but friendly smile, the man thrust his hand forward.

“My name is…”

Note: This update has been in the works for so long that even I have forgotten what I was trying to get out here. However, as with all my other WIP updates (and my recent slump), I decided to wrap it up…just to get things moving along.

So…any guesses on who the ‘New Guy’ is?