SOMETIMES I WONDER.... Author: vangiekitty Disclaimer: Not mine. I only wish. Yeah, all wishful thinking aside, we all know that Jean is with Scott forever and ever ,world without end, amen. But does she ever wonder what she's missing? I bet she does, I know I would! SOMETIMES I WONDER "C'mon, sweetheart, it's pretty late. Time for bed, don't you think?" He reaches around the arm of the chair I'm sitting in, reading a book to nuzzel my neck softly. Sighing, I close the book. I'm at a boring part anyway. I yawn and stretch, my arms raised over my head. Scott takes this as an invitation to run his hands down the length of my arms and cup my breasts. His smoothe cheek brushes mine and his mouth lingers over the sensitive, ticklish spot beneath my right ear. Smoothe, so smoothe. But what if it were rough, unshaven? What if the hands that cup my breasts so tenderly through the thin, green silk robe were insistant instead of gentle? He traces my hardened nipples delicately and it is irritating, like a buzzing fly. I mentally shake myself.. This is my husband, he's not irritating, he's....sweet. He continues to carress me and now the robe is open. I haven't rebuffed him so his confidence grows. He comes around to kneel in front of me. His mouth is soft and even after all these years, tenative as he licks delicately between my breasts. He would stop with no hesitation if I gave the word. He wouldn't even be mad, just a little hurt, maybe. But he wouldn't let it show, oh, no, not my sweet considerate husband. If I told him I had a headache, he'd even get me an asprin and my favorite spring water to wash it down with before trotting off to the bathroom to finish himself off manualy like a good little boy... The thought of all the guilt involved in such a lie just makes me tired. I may have unkind thoughts from time to time, but that doesn't make me an unkind person, does it? I sigh deeply and Scott takes it for passion. He is between my legs now with his wet, pink toungue: the dutiful, considerate lover. He even manages to pretend to enjoy it. So many men don't, you know. Like they think we like to swallow. I wonder briefly of Logan would enjoy this small, oral duty. But I know the answer to that; I *am* a telepath, after all. In my minds eye, I replay the images I've caught from him from time to time. I don't *try* to catch these *thoughts* from him,( more like porographic snapshots )but I can't help picking them up, he transmits them so strongly. I think of scratchy wiskers abrading my thighs, Logan reveling in my scent, my taste. His toungue invading me eagerly, ruthlessly, instead of the timid, darting little forays which Scott barely dares. I sigh again at Scott's halfhearted efforts. This is more boring than my book. At least with the book I was getting somewhere... I shift a little. Time to end it. I tap Scott on the shoulder, he looks up gratefully; he did his job, now he gets the reward. His eyes are questioning behind his visor. I nod. OK, might as well. How's he gonna want it this time? Gee, missionary position *again*? What a huge surprise, (unlike Scott's cock.) Now that *was* unkind, Jean. Shame, for shame! I just have to get over this little mean streak I'm having and accept the facts. Scot is sweet and considerate but he will never bend me over the bathroom sink and make me watch in the mirror while he takes me from behind, roughly, his hands squeezing my breasts, twisting my nipples, pounding into me with his huge, thick... I shake my head to clear the image away. Another one I got from Logan, of course. Scott is gasping above me, his face contorted in the familliar red, twisted effort that means he's almost done. Finally. He groanes, pumps twice more and is still. At last he rolls of me, a grin of contentment on his face. "That was great, honey! And right on the floor, too. We're gettin' pretty kinky here!" He is actually proud of himself. He has no clue. No idea of the thoughts, the images that have invaded my brain with that one word, *kinky*. Tying me up with silk scarves, blindfolding. Whips, begging, ravishing for hours on end. The delicious wettness between my legs, the intense desire relieved only when he says so. When his hands and mouth are on me. Teasing me endlessly, making me beg... God! I've got to stop! Scott helps me to my feet and we pad off to bed. "Night Hon." he yawns hugely. In the darkness, his deep breathing turns to anoying snores. I lay there and try to go to sleep. But I can't help it, sometimes I wonder...