In less than a minute, they were both under the warm shower spray, Logan with his injured hands braced high against the wall, and Rogue standing behind him, soaping up a washcloth. Lathering over his broad shoulders, she gently and methodically washed his torso, cleaning away the remains of the dried blood. She worked carefully around the three stitches near his shoulder, then down to his sides.
“I feel like I ought to be wearing a badge and frisking you for weapons.”
“Now you’re just trying to provoke me.”
Tossing the washcloth over the shower rod, she drizzled shampoo over her hands and snaked them through his thick hair, then scrubbed in all directions. “I thought all men had a fantasy thing for women in uniform, patting them down.”
“I always tried to avoid cops, so I didn’t have that fantasy until I saw you in the black X-leathers,” Logan leaned his head into the spray and Marie slithered her fingers through to rinse away the shampoo. Every inch of him felt so amazingly male. She thought she just might become a touching addict. She picked up the washcloth again and worked more soap into it, then started working over his arms and down the outside of his thighs.
“Are you serious? You noticed that? I always thought I looked silly in the uniform, like I was playing dress-up or something.”
“Yep - I’m deadly serious.” He spat out some water before continuing, “You’re hotter than hell in black. Or in leather, or that towel,” he suddenly turned toward her, still keeping both hands braced high - one against the shower rod and the other against the opposite wall. Planting one foot on the rim of the tub, he challenged her, “Just how clean are we gonna get me?”
She stood there momentarily stunned, the soapy washcloth in one hand, the other hand holding up the front of the now-sodden towel which had grown increasingly heavy, threatening to slip off her at any moment. There was no escape: she simply had to do it.
She looked down.
He was erect; and gloriously so, based on the pictures of naked men she’d seen in Jubilee’s Playgirl magazines. Everything men had was right there in front of her: one penis, two testicles; all those decidedly male parts just hanging there and sticking out at her, and it was real, warm, living flesh, and attached to Logan.
Oh my god.
He was looking straight down into her eyes, “If you can’t handle this, step out and I’ll finish up myself.”
“You’re supposed to keep your hands dry, aren’t you?”
“Not the point, Marie. This is a lot of skin and a lot of touching and it’s all new stuff for you. I don’t want you getting in over your head, that’s all. You gotta be comfortable with it, with me.”
“I’m not sure this will make sense to you, but I think I already know everything from you being in my head. Like, this....” she slid the soapy washcloth around his hip and circled back to the front, stroking it down his erect shaft. Logan let out a deep groan and his head rocked back as his eyes closed. Marie spoke softly to him, “Turn back around, like you were before.”
Logan did as she asked, and with a little jolt of surprise, he heard the washrag and then her waterlogged towel hit the floor of the shower with a heavy splat. He knew she was now standing nude behind him and he fought every screaming instinct to turn around and see everything that was Marie naked; hair, skin, breasts, cleft, hips, everything. But again her soapy hands started exploring him, her body slipping closer against him and half embracing him from beneath his right arm where she’d inserted herself at his side. She eased down the water pressure, then wrapped herself tight against his ribs again, letting her soapy hand grip him gently at first and stroking the wet skin slowly until she grew accustomed to the sensation. Her other hand circled around his waist as she attached herself to him. Logan dared a look downward to see her right breast pressed up against his ribs. He knew she was exploring a man for the first time, and he wouldn’t interrupt her for anything. He stood silently, thankful for the gratification.
Her soap-slicked hand slid down the length of him, then wrapped firmly over the glans, a move he knew she’d pulled out of his head because it was a carbon copy of his own habitual strokes. She was pressed tight to him, eyes half-closed, and he knew she was still accessing his own memories in her head to do everything right, the way he liked it.
“Tell me if I do anything wrong, okay, sugar?” Logan only grunted his assent and rested is head against the top of hers, soaking himself in the moment. Her hands wandered farther, one cupping a hip, the other cupping his balls, then back to stroking again. He felt the unmistakable beginning of orgasm start to creep through his tightening pelvis. His hips began rocking slightly in rhythm to her hand on his flesh.
“Oooooh god, baby, yeah,” he groaned the words softly, barely aware that he’d even spoken. When she ran a few fingernails lightly up the back of his thighs, she heard him suck in a sharp breath and she increased the grip and speed until suddenly she felt his whole body tense. The tightening increased, then the sensation of muscles going into spasm hit where she gripped him and he was gasping aloud. Hot fluid pumped from him and was swirled away in the water as she gentled her stroking and eventually stilled her hands on him while he caught his breath and came down from the experience. Reaching for the cloth once again, she finished washing his legs down while he gathered his wits. With the water back at full force again, they twisted and turned in the spray, rinsing and openly looking at each other’s nakedness. Marie was amazed that Logan managed to keep his hands off of her, but he was being the gentleman she never thought he could be. He allowed her to take the lead in everything, and she appreciated his trust as well as his efforts.
With the water shut off, Logan grinned at her as his eyes rose from the floor of the shower where her discarded towel still lay in the water. “Grab more towels from the cabinet. We’re not done yet, unless you tell me we are.”
Giving him a curious look, Marie brazenly stepped naked from the shower and pulled out more towels, first wrapping her dripping hair into a quick turban, then toweling him off lightly. She let her fingers stray through the hair on his chest and belly, amazed at the texture of it.
“Come on,” Logan reached gingerly for her hand and she dodged that contact, but rested her hand on his forearm instead. He led her naked to the bed and settled her on the edge, then knelt before her. “Lay back, if you want to.”
Trusting him, she laid back on the bed and immediately felt him gently push her knees apart and move in closer to her. His lips started working lightly up the inside of her right thigh. His hands started to reach for her breasts, but then he instead placed them carefully on the bed beside her.
“I’d love to put my hands all over you, baby, but these stitches would scratch your soft skin. I guess we’ll have to wait for those to come out before we get into the groping, huh?” She felt his tongue slither higher up her leg, toward her groin, nibbling here and there as she half-rose on the bed just in time to see his head descend over her pubic mound.
“Logan, you don’t have to retu... ooooohhh,” the moan slid out of her mouth as his tongue parted her cleft to wiggle over her clitoris. Delicious fire seemed to shoot through her entire body, rooted between her legs where he stroked her lightly, lapping at her and then pressing firmly, then the wiggling again, then making her think she could either go insane, or explode, or both.
“You want me to stop?” She barely realized that he’d spoken to her as her hips were starting to tighten and grind against the bed.
“Ohhhh... no, no, no need for stopping,” she babbled, trying hard to be calm, even though she felt like every nerve in her body was twitching into overload. He snaked his tongue on her a few more times before asking her again.
“You sure? I don’t want you feelin’ like you’re under any pressure here at all.”
“Noooo pressure here. Nope, none at all...” her voice faded away in a gasp as he started a rhythmic stroking with the tip of his tongue. Rogue felt something rise in her, the likes of which she’d never caused herself to feel. It was as if her body lost control and surrendered to the feral male who worked his way knowingly between her legs. The heat of his mouth on her sent the fire snaking through her pelvis again, and the muscles responded: her hips half rose, then pushed back down against the bed as he moved harder on her and she felt herself explode.
Waves of aching pleasure throbbed through her body and she felt like something was pounding in circles between her legs, inside, her flesh twitching and pulsing as he gently worked her through the orgasm. She seemed to hear her own voice as if from a distance: she was groaning, making guttural sounds, incoherent with the wild pleasure he was causing her. When at last she lay quietly, he worked kisses back down the inside of her left thigh, then rose to his feet, allowing her to look at him as he stood over her. He was half erect again, but paid no attention to it as he drank in her languid smile and long limbs strewn across his bed.
“Move over, baby.” Rogue threw aside the towel around her head and wiggled herself straight onto the bed as Logan laid down beside her. Tucking her against his chest, they both snuggled down to rest. She lay boneless against him, cupped within his arm, her head resting on his shoulder.
“Tell me the truth, Logan. Do people always make each other feel like that?”
“Not always. Sometimes it’s better, or not so strong, sometimes it’s just awkward. Everyone’s different. You hit peaks and valleys, and some people just aren’t compatible.”
“Do you trust me to do things to you?”
“Like what?” He frowned playfully at her, one eyebrow raised.
“Like, do that to you? Go down on you, suck on you, since I’ve never done that before. Aren’t you afraid I’ll bite you or something? I might suck at sucking, ya know,” she gave him a sheepish grin that made him chuckle.
“Okay, one: I’m not afraid you’ll bite me. Two: you’ve already taken care of my ‘needs’ for tonight, trust me. Three: everybody’s gotta learn sometime, and you can practice on me any time you like, but not tonight.”
“Tuckered out, huh?”
“Yeah. You did a number on me in that shower, but in a very good way. And...” he held up one hand to regard the multiple stitches spanning his knuckles, “these are hurtin’ pretty bad. Guess I’m not on the mend yet.” She noted his expression: obviously the realization of his mutations being gone was hitting him again after their distraction in the shower and then again on the bed. She felt him draw a deep breath and let it out in a near-silent sigh.
“Did Hank give you pain pills?”
“Yeah, but they make me feel weird. I’m not used to medicine making me feel much of anything at all. I took some this afternoon and slept for a while. I’m thinking I’m gonna pop a couple more of them and get some serious sleep.”
Half rising from her comfortable position, Rogue commented, “I have class in the morning, so I suppose I ought to be getting off to my bed, too.” Logan pulled her back against him.
“You don’t have to leave, especially since you already ‘got off’ here. You can sleep here with me, if you’re comfortable with it.”
“If I was any more comfortable, I’d be unconscious. But I’m afraid I’ll thrash around in my sleep and hurt you.”
“That’d be a switch for us. No, you won’t hurt me. You turn down the bed, and I’ll meet you back here.”
“Deal!”
Logan rose from the bed and went to the bathroom where Rogue saw him pull a bottle of pills out of the medicine chest. Fumbling with the snap-cap for a while, he turned to ask her help but she was already reaching for the bottle. Taking two, he swallowed them down with some water. When he returned to the bed, she was already tucked in the sheets and once again toweling her hair nearly dry. “Oh!” She threw back the sheets and strode across the room, giving him an audacious back view of herself, “We made a deal.”
She returned with the bandages. “One more night. You promised.”
Acquiescing with minimal profanity, Logan allowed her to lightly wrap his hands again before they settled into the bed, once again tucking themselves closely together as naturally as if they’d slept together for a long time.
Rogue knew Logan was tired - she’d seen it in his posture and heard it in his words, but now the pills were kicking in and his deep voice was dreamy and soft as he spoke to her in the darkness.
“I realize how drastically things are changing for both of us. And I know you’ve been wrestling with the decision about dumping Drake. Remember this, though: everything we did here tonight, both of us, didn’t seriously change anything. You’re still a virgin, or at least I think you are....”
“I am,” she confirmed softly with a light kiss against his throat. Logan realized he hadn’t kissed her through the whole experience, and he attended to that immediately with a slow, deep kiss that left them both warm and smiling.
“That said, you are your own woman. You do what you want, make your own decisions, sleep with who you want, answer to no one.”
“That’s pretty much the way I see it,” she was beginning to wonder if he was working his way around to a gentle brush-off, but she let him talk it through as the pain medication lowered his awareness.
“Don’t know when or even ‘if’ you’ll be ready to take the next step, but if I’m conscious and able, and you want me, I’ll be good to you; ya know, careful, gentle with you. I know how to make it easier the first time, for a woman.”
“I’ll bet you do,” she cuddled against him, starting to feel the lassitude of sleep overcome her as well.
He yawned deeply, stretching himself against her nude body, “Minimal fumbling, I promise. Don’ know any better way to... show ya how much...” He drifted off before finishing the sentence, his body totally relaxing within seconds. Rogue yawned halfway through her response.
“Love you too, sugar.”
The sound of footsteps and voices in the hall roused Rogue from her deep slumber. Pushing her hair from her sleepy eyes, she sat up and realized she was not in her own room. Turning to the spot beside her, she smiled at a sleeping Logan sprawled across most of the bed. Thoughts of the night’s activities brought a bigger grin to her face which was instantly erased by thoughts of Bobby. She had to break up with him immediately. It was the only fair thing for them all.
The bedside clock flashed 8:37 am, and she nearly leaped out of the bed. Her classes started at nine! Not wanting to jar Logan too sharply awake, she slithered against him and wrapped an arm around his waist, nudging him gently and kissing his shoulder.
“Logan, I’m late for class. I’ll check back here before lunch hour. Just go back to sleep, okay?”
“Muh-huh.”
“See ya later, sugar.”
He was asleep again before she left the bed. She grabbed clothes from the floor, chair, bathroom towel bar, and was just tugging on her second shoe as she hopped into the hallway. Everyone was already downstairs. Racing to her room, she swapped clothes at the speed of a quick-change artist, grabbed an armload of books, and fled the room at a dead run.
Jubilee was waiting beside Rogue’s seat, and she slid into place moments before the morning bell rang.
“Good morning, Miss Bed Head,” Jubes sang at her in a mocking voice. “I was wondering if you’d show, since you did NOT spend the night in your room. I knocked, like five times?” Jubilee threw her a conspiratorial wink. Rogue blushed furiously, then shoved her fingers through her scrambled hair. Jubilee whispered toward her, “Dude, you are such a mess! Was it a good night?”
“Sssh! Class! Education in progress.”
Storm spoke to her directly, “Rogue? See me after class, please.”
After a rousing chorus of ‘uh-ohs’ and ‘woahs’, they got down to the business of history.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Rogue gets an education in the shower. VERY ADULT CHAPTER!!! Consider yourself warned.