JEAN GREY

BECOMING THE BLACK QUEEN

Wanton

by PJ

 

The night was clear and cold as Jean Grey walked the cobbled streets of the Scottish port town. Jean let her green sweater hang open, a flicker of her power kept the chill air from touching her flesh. Jean came to a lantern-lit intersection and examined the street signs, she was right where Jason had told her to go, the dance club should be very close.

This section of the port town had seen better days. Trash and loose paper swept across the cracked cobbles, propelled by the frigid wind. Windows in nearby tenements were broken or boarded over, plaster was cracked and peeling.

Jean glanced to her left, she could hear music faintly. Taking the left-hand road, Jean followed the faint, beating music until she came to the club front to her right. Stairs led down into the club, leather-clad wraiths loitered along the stairs and in alleys on either side of of the building, smoking, searching for prey. Jean passed by the leather boys, not even glancing at them as she descended the stained, chipped steps. Without really meaning to, Jean opened her mind to the thought impressions of the punks, images flashed, scenes of the street scum grabbing her, shoving her to the steps, ripping her clothes off to violate her in several graphic ways. Jean reached the club door and opened it, she stood a moment in the doorway, breathing hard, her cheeks burning, her crotch warm as she closed her mind to the punks' obscene urges with a great effort of will. Looking down, Jean quickly jerked her right hand out of her half-open dress, she hadn't even noticed when her hand had entered her dress to fondle her left breast.

Going through the open door, crossing through a short hallway sprayed with graffiti and strange wall stains, Jean emerged into the huge cellar that served as the dance club. Strobing lights seared overhead, deafening music roared all around Jean as shadowy bodies writhed and swayed everywhere. The smell was indescribable, the stench of so many unwashed, sweating bodies, the heat that made the cellar stuffy and rank. Jean looked around for Jason, but she didn't see him anywhere, not at the long bar to her left, not along the railing of the second floor gallery, no where. Jean frowned and considered scanning the crowd. The telepathic noise would be intense, but with no other way to find Jason in such a wild mob Jean decided to try.

Narrowing her bright, green eyes, Jean gradually lowered her mental walls, she gasped when the flood of thoughts and feelings flooded over her. Jean lowered her head and pressed the fingertips of her right hand to her forehead. She fought to shift through the dozens of impressions whispering inside her mind, she tried to ignore the lust, the anger, the fear that screamed at her. Minutes passed, Jean realized that the emotions bombarding her were overwhelming her, she couldn't block them out, she began to drown in them. Jean swayed on her feet, she couldn't breathe, her slender legs buckled.

"Jean?"

Jean straightened at the sound of a familiar voice. Jean turned, it was Jason.

"Jason!" gasped Jean, falling against the handsome man, her hands clutching his coat.

"What's wrong, Jean?" inquired Jason, his bearded face filled with concern.

"I'm just..a bit overwhelmed by this place," panted Jean, the thoughts of the dancers receding.

"Exciting, isn't it?" smiled Jason, running his hand through Jean's thick, red hair.

"A little," admitted Jean, meeting Jason's eyes, her distress fading as she clung to him.

"Let's dance!" said Jason, taking Jean's hand and leading her into the tightly packed throng.

Jason and Jean were shoved together in the mob of humping, grinding bodies. Off balance from the emotional torrent she had endured a few moments earlier, Jean could feel the incredible body heat surrounding her, the stench of sweat and musk filled her nostrils. The heat and smell made Jean dizzy, she hugged Jason's waist, resting her head on his chest.

"Don't fight it, let go, Jean," whispered Jason in Jean's ear, his breath caressing her.

Jean began swaying her hips. She dropped her hands from the small of Jason's back to his buttocks, Jason grinned widely at her when she squeezed his bottom. Jason slipped Jean's sweater from her shoulders, Jean tilted her head back, Jason kissed her hard, his tongue exploring her compliant mouth.

Jean let go of Jason's buttocks and wrapped her arms around his neck. Jean returned Jason's kiss with equal ferocity, massaging his tongue with hers, her lips sucking on her lover's mouth. Jason combed his right hand through Jean's warm hair while he kissed her, his left hand entered Jean's open dress, he cupped her right breast and fondled it with his strong fingers.

"No bra, Jean? What about your panties?" murmured Jason over Jean's pouting lips.

"I didn't wear them either," moaned Jean, her green eyes clouded with arousal, a sharp sigh escaping her mouth as Jason milked her right breast amidst the packed dance floor.

"Hmm, let's see," leered Jason, slipping his right hand out of Jean's cascading hair and using it to reach up underneath Jean's yellow dress, between her warm, luscious thighs.

Jean moaned sharply, hugging Jason's neck, pressing her flushed face into Jason's chest while hard fingers groped her pussy, prying the tender lips of her cunt apart.

"How did it feel to walk around town without any underwear? One strong breeze off the ocean and anyone passing by would have seen this hot, sweet pussy of yours," murmured Jason into Jean's forehead.

"It was exciting, I liked it," moaned Jean, nuzzling Jason's throat, rubbing her pert nose in his soft beard.

"Then how about this?"

Jason raised up Jean's dress with his left hand, baring her ass to the crowd.

"They can see my hand between your legs, they can all see me playing with your cunt."

"I don't care, keep touching me," panted Jean, gently bucking against Jason's hand, rubbing her aching pussy over his fingers.

Jason fondled Jean's exposed ass with his left hand while his right continued to finger Jean's hole, two digits shoving deep into her damp slit. Jean clung to Jason's neck, riding his upraised fingers, panting face pressed against the side of Jason's throat as she bobbed gently, aware of the dancers around her, aware of their stares, the lust she inflamed in them. The packed dancers' desire swelled Jean's, she threw back her head, scarlet hair flying, spine arching as she humped Jason's outstretched hand, her thighs clamping around his wrist, pussy shivering around the two stiff digits shoving into her sex.

When a spike-haired, nose-ringed stranger dancing close to Jean's right leaned over to lick Jean's bared right breast, Jean moaned with pleasure, her nipple throbbing as the leather boy gnawed on her rolling breast, drool soaking her skin. A coarse, ringed hand jerked open Jean's dress wider, groped her bouncing left tit. Someone pulled back on Jean's hair, cracked lips covered Jean's panting mouth, a clammy tongue fondled hers.

Jean kept riding Jason's probing fingers, her left arm draped over the shoulders of the stranger squeezing her left breast, her right hand buried in the dyed, spiked hair of the boy slurping on her aching right breast. She stroked the third dancer's tongue that was writhing inside her open mouth, moaning weakly while her molesters pressed in close to her, hands caressing her body, minds filling her vision with images of rape and wanton violation. Jean's mind began drowning in the overpowering torrent of dark emotions, Jason whispered soothing encouragement to her, Jean let the torrent drag her down.

*****