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Disclaimer: don’t own, don’t sue. This is all for fun.


Thanks once again for the great feedback and sorry it took so long to update, I’ve been trying to get my other stories finished, which with the exception of one I haven’t quite managed! To answer a question for a wonderful reviewer: Not English but Welsh. (British at the end of the day I suppose!) And to the reviewer who asked me to e-mail them when I updated, unfortunately your address didn’t come up on the review page, so if you send it to me at: Marikosan_7@hotmail.com, I’ll be more than happy to let you know when chapter five is up. Loads-a-luv, M’ikosan, xx


Chapter.4.


Dock 19, a rowdy crowd in a disused warehouse...


Ororo had gotten into the fight quite easily; Logan had, as promised, told the door security (Calvin turned out to be an impossibly large, bald Costa Rican man in a black bomber jacket, who was sweating profusely despite the time of year ) to expect her and she’d been let in with no fuss. And at this moment she was being chaperoned by a much slimmer man, through the crowds to the ‘dressing room’, which was nothing more than a broom cupboard in truth, at her request to see her lover before the fight began.


As Ororo entered the tiny room; that contained a backless bench no longer than five foot, a few over used coat hooks on the south wall and one truly horrid looking sink, whose taps never stopped dripping, Logan took his attention from wrapping his hands in off-white, gauze bandages for only a second, flashed her a none to convincing smile and then kept his attention on wrapping his hands.


“How’s it going?” She asked distractedly as she removed her coat and let her eyes rake longingly over his exposed upper body; the angle at which his back was leant against the breeze-block wall emphasizing his toned stomach to stunning effect.


“Fine.” He finished wrapping the last piece of gauze, bringing the small length of excess material up to his mouth and ripping it off with his sharp teeth. “You O.K bein’ here?” It didn’t sound too genuine but he really was concerned about her being here, these weren’t nice people that came to these events and there where other things he’d really rather she never see. But Ororo simply smiled down at him as she stepped closer, placing her bag down carefully on a short piece of ply wood that served as some kind of sideboard next to the brown-stained sink.


“Yes.” She laughed, still amused at his almost-but-not-quite chivalrous concern for her. Stood right in front of him with her legs quite far part, calves fantastically defined by the four inch heels she was sporting; Logan couldn’t help but admire the way the entirely inappropriate light cotton knee-length dress clung to her delicate hips but flared out as it ran down to caress her just above the knee and its sky blue colour was fantastically almost see-through. He just wanted to grab the hem and slip his hands up those long, silky legs, pushing the dress up in the process to expose her to him, because he could see that she was sans underwear due to the lack of a visible pantie line.


Ororo didn’t need to be a genius to tell what was running through his mind, the way those wonderfully dangerous eyes where undressing her, making her feel an excitement between her thighs that were still parted in a stance that screamed; I’m open and ready. “Careful Logan,” she began with mock warning, “You’re dangerously close to showing me some genuine affection.” Those words snapped his attention back up to her face, looking at her with his habitual scowl and it made her laugh as she stepped ever closer, hitching her dress up so that she could straddle his jean clad thighs with her bare ones. Enveloping her arms around his neck, Ororo thought a change in the topic might be in order. “So who’s this Fowalski guy you’re fighting?”


“Kowalski.” Logan corrected as his hands settled over the smooth curve of her rear, his eyes dropping down to her bosom, which was generously exposed by her plunging v-neckline.


“Kowalski, right. This man, I heard them saying he was tough.” She shifted forwards, placing herself on his growing erection; a gruff rumble, like distant, angry thunder catching in his throat. “The guy who brought me to you said he’s never lost a fight.”


“No, he hasn’t.” He gripped at her arse as she moved on his by now fully standing penis, but soon released his grasp when he remembered that he had to cool it, doing this just before a fight was never a good idea. Ororo got the message as she moved back a bit but she continued with her questions.


“So, what are your chances?”


“Depends what you mean.” He answered cryptically, “Do’ya mean my chances o’ winnin’, losin’ or endin’ up in a body bag?” He smiled wickedly at the horrified look that came across her face.


“Don’t say things like that.” She warned half seriously as she gave him a playful slap on the chest.


He laughed, “Hey, it’s a possibility ya know---this isn’t a game of musical fuckin’ bumps where playin’ here!”


“I know---just don’t say things like that O.K?” Now it was her turn to scowl, but with concern more than anything else.


“Hey, look! Now whose showin’ genuine affection!” His teasing earned him another good natured slap. Then she gripped his neck with a force that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else but passion, taking her hot space back to his erection, moving her moist lips close to his.

“Do you enjoy it?” She asked out of the blue as she brushed her full, smooth mouth against his, but refrained from kissing him.


“Enjoy what?” His words breathy and full with want and desire, not concentrating on her question one jot.


“Fighting.” She moved her hips against him. The question and the action causing nothing more than a growl from him as his mind focused on the physical sensations that flooded his body. “Do you enjoy fighting?” she repeated, just as breathy as him; her sex throbbing against his upright penis.


Logan didn’t really think about his reply before he rasped the word, “Yes.” Bringing his hot mouth down onto her nipple that was straining through her cotton dress, rising to her sexual taunts without a second thought. Her head lulled back as he ravished her pert nub and then took a good part of her breast into his hungry mouth as she plunged her hands deep into his wiry hair, gripping at it fiercely. But she had to pull back.


“‘Ro?” he groaned disappointedly as he took his head back from her retreating body, only to be greeted with a mischievously smiling face looking up at him. She never took her sultry gaze from him as she slipped from his strong thighs, dropping between his parted legs, and immediately Logan knew what she wanted to do. Her slim, nimble fingers unbuttoned his flies, carefully pulling his already erect and rather large cock from his pants. He let his head lull back as he felt Ororo placing his hard dick into her warm, wet mouth. “Oh fuck...” He gasped with a shaky voice as he felt her mouth closing tightly around him; the tip touching at the back of her throat and then her head began to move in an up and down motion, sucking him with a thoughtful rhythm, as if she perfectly and cruelly aware of the ‘painful’ pleasure that she was dishing out. “Oh baby...oh fuck...’Ro...” Logan crooned as his hand gripped at the back of her hair, messing it up without a thought as he used his grasp to join her rhythm with increasingly forceful movements, making her suck him quicker and harder; almost pushing her onto him. Before long he was close, painfully fucking close to coming and that’s when Ororo pushed herself free, making him release his tight grasp on her thick, loose hair. Sitting back on her haunches, looking up at him, she was none too surprised at the expression of disappointment she saw on his face; disappointment and aborted ecstasy, small streams of sweat ran down his glistening forehead.


“You’ll get the rest when you’ve won the fight.” She promised him, staring directly and intently into his eyes; she was adamantly serious. It was a buzz to feel that she was the one in power now, a sexual buzz that she could definitely get used to.


A slanted grin crept onto his face, creating a cute dimple in his right cheek. This girl was evil, pure fucking evil, but he was more than willing to play along for now, fully aware that the torture played both ways and he couldn’t wait to administer his ‘revenge’.


*DING! DING! DING!* that was the bell to tell them that the fight was almost upon them. He stood up, without even a glance in Ororo’s direction, striding over to the door, placing his quickly fading erection back into his boxers and zipping himself up. She followed him with her eyes, calling out once he’d gotten to the door way, “Good luck!”


“I don’t need it.” Came his cocky reply from somewhere down the echoing hallway. Then the sound of the large, swinging double-doors that sat at the end far the corridor being pushed open reached her, letting the noise of a crowd in rapture, that had always been there in the distance, like a train trundling up rusty tracks burst into full bloom and then it was gone again as the doors slammed back shut.



* * *


“Woo-Hoo! Look at the hottie fellas!” The grotesque trucker-looking bloke hollered as Ororo tried to push her way past him and his gaggle of equally detestable drunk friends. A chorus of whooping and cat-calls went up as she forged ahead to get as close as she could to the ‘ring’ side, trying her best not to make eye contact with any of them, but it was no use.


“Hey honey,” piped up another one of the creatures, with a slurred Texan accent, “Why don’t you jus’ sit your tasty ass right down here with us, huh?” He made a grab for her arm, she managed to dodge the first attempt but that left her open to fall into the clutches of the scum that was stood behind her.


“Pretty little thing like you don’t wanna be in a place like this all alone sweetheart.” He pulled her close to his chest so that her back was pressed against him, his mouth close to the side of her face, making her nose wrinkle with the stench of rotten food caught between teeth and cheap liquor as his breath bore down on her.


“Get off me, you shit!” She wrenched herself free for a moment, only to be grabbed again, harder this time, his fingers pinching into her skin. Glancing around quickly; people were seeing what was going on, they were smack-bang in the middle of a thousand-strong crowd, but nobody seemed to give a flying fuck, much to her annoyance. So Ororo did the only thing a ‘vulnerable’ girl could do in these circumstances; she swung her stilettoed foot backwards, its spike catching the man straight in the left side of his ball-bag.


“FUCK!” He cupped his damaged manhood in his hands as he fell backwards into the group of men behind them; his sozzled companions falling about in fits of laughter at their friend’s misfortune. But the laughter didn’t last for long as the burly looking men he’d fallen upon didn’t take to kindly to it and began to lay into him, kicking him whilst he was still on the ground. A mini scuffle began between the two testosterone-high groups, but thankfully Ororo was already on her way by the time it all kicked off. So Logan hadn’t been exaggerating after all...unfortunately. By the time she had got close to the front, about three rows back, the fighters where just getting into the ring. She felt a bit better now as she took her seat; she didn’t like crowds at the best of times, especially not touchy-feely ones that eyed her with lascivious looks but she had been the one to ask to come here, so she couldn’t very well complain. Placing her coat across her lap, Ororo tried to get comfortable as butterflies churned up her stomach with excited anticipation; she’d never been to anything like this before and wasn’t sure of what to expect, she hadn’t really thought about it in any depth until now. With Logan’s teasing about ‘ending up in a body bag’ still running through her mind, she was rapidly beginning to wish she wasn’t here...and then Logan came across to her side of the ring; all thoughts of leaving fell from her head.


It was clear to Ororo that he hadn’t noticed her, but that was a good thing, the last thing she wanted was for him to be distracted. No, she was content to get the chance to admire him from afar, without reciprocation. Admire the sleek strength of his well defined form; he really was quite stunning, but she had more reason to appreciate that body than most. The things it did to her were almost...beyond measure.


*


The referee called the two men over for a quiet word before the match began; apparently there were no big announcements like with a traditional boxing match. The fighters banged fists, the referee stepped away, a bell rang and they were off. For the longest time they circled one another, waiting for the prime moment to make the first move, draw first blood. Roman Kowalski was at least half a foot taller than Logan and much broader, (with a face that looked like it had seen the wrong end of a good kicking a few too many times), what he lacked in pace and movement he was sure to make up for in power. Kowalski made a swift, short jab but Logan dogged it expertly, replying with the first punch of the fight to reach its target. With a dull, hard thud, Logan’s knuckles on his right hand smashed into his opponent’s cheek bone to the rapturous delight of the suddenly deafening, cheering crowd. But the larger, older man was quick to counter, with a smart upper cut, throwing Logan’s head backwards as a spray of red spurted from between quickly clenched teeth.


Ororo winced at the blow to her lover, feeling she may have seriously underestimated how much it would affect her to see him doing this but at the same time she couldn’t deny the peculiar feeling of...excitement? Especially when Logan bounced back from the shot, looking more determined and bloody-minded than ever. With at least four swift blows in succession, he had Kowalski rocking back on his leather-booted heals and for a spilt second it almost seemed he would fall, but he did not. The stocky man, with a thick layering of dark, dark hair on his chest stood fast before lunging back at Logan opponent. But he dodged the rather clumsy, lumbering attempt with a natural yet humble deftness, adding another blow to the side of Kowalski’s head for good measure.


It all fit somehow; the bloodlust, the supply of blood, cascading like so many tumultuous rivers; the fierce roar of a male crowd, stunted and impotent with their own repressed rage, the sweat slicked thuds of every punch pulled, the small sounds being carried on the backs of the shouting men, amplified into the cathedralesque lofty ceiling of the dock hanger. It was monstrous in all truth, truly monstrous. But Ororo couldn’t help feeling under her most certain disgust at what was transpiring, the flow of something that incited a guilty pleasure somewhere inside, burning through her very blood...


Another hit and another; the forceful punches were exchanged freely between the men, each one causing yet another welt, another instantaneous bruise, another hideous gash that bled eagerly. Logan was suffering from several by now, a gaping cut above his left eye that let the blood stem freely downwards, filling that eye, forcing him to keep it closed for now and staining his cheek, as well as several smaller ones about his torso. The bruises too, mapped across his glistening skin like tiny purple and red veined islands. But he was certainly giving as good as he got, more so in fact as Roman Kowalski’s body was similarly marked but the patterns of damaged where much more dense. After only four minutes of fighting, it was obvious that at the level at which they were inflicting the injuries that this was not going to be a long one...


The referee called a brief stop to the proceedings, he didn’t have to if didn’t want to, it wasn’t as if this was legitimate boxing, the normal rules did not apply, save for eye gouging, which was an unspoken no-no. The small man struggled to pull the pair apart as they fell into a half tussle, half supportive hug and Ororo felt the relief flood to every part of her when he eventually managed to; she hadn’t realised how rigidly she’d been holding her back straight until it curved forwards slightly and relaxed. She hoped this would all end quickly, she really did...but there was something about it...


No sooner had each man sat in their respective corners than they were called back again, to start the fray once more, in what would surely be the ultimate round, despite it only being the second.


“O.K boys, LETS GET IT ON!” The ref released their hands again and four quick punches followed. They may have been swift but all packed a power that the people who were voyeuristically watching could only imagine in their worst nightmares. A right hook, a left hook, and not one but two viciously hard upper cuts; one of them would have been enough to make anyone fall to the canvas, so that Logan managed to take all four before he succumbed was nothing short of a minor miracle.


Ororo had to stop herself from calling out to him by roughly biting her lower lip as she watched him fall, hitting the rough calico surface of the ring like a ton of bricks, making the sound of a wet smack. He didn’t move for a moment and the crowd jeered with the ungrateful glee of witnessing someone else’s downfall. Kowalski also seemed certain in his victory, peering down at the back of his fallen opponent, with a look of triumph. But it wasn’t as smug as one would expect it to be, he was still cautious; he’d been in to many of these fights to take anything for granted. And his caution turned out to be correctly judged.


Logan moved, the slight shift not being missed by the crowds concentrating eye, whose need for more violence clearly outweighed their lust to see defeat...for the time being. Pushing himself up by his balled fists, Logan shook the cloudiness from his head, the sudden movement unleashing a river of blood from the newly reopened cut above his eye, creating a sizable pool on the canvas in a matter of seconds. He spat onto the ground and that was filled with more blood than saliva. Ororo couldn’t get a good view at first; the berk in front of her, who had all the fashion sense of an office clerk on his day off, having jumped up in his frenzy, blocking Logan from her sight. But moving to the left a little, she could see perfectly now---but what she saw frightened her. The Logan that was raising slowly back to his feet was not the one she recognised; she felt a kind of fear when she looked at him now; a fear of what he could do, of what this man was capable of....


Logan may have been slow to come back up off the floor, but he was certainly not once he was up there. Punch after wild punch was swung at Kowalski, brutal and unrelenting. Even over the bustling crowd’s renewed vocal rigour, Logan’s animalistic snarls were apparent as he pummelled Roman like a man possessed; not letting up until he’d backed him all the way into the far left-hand corner. Once Kowalski had reached the point so far back that he could go no further, all he could do was desperately hold his forearms up, bent at the elbow, to try and cover his body and face as best he could. But too little avail as Logan’s unstoppable punches found their way in, connecting so hard the whole room could almost hear every bone crack as the fractures were inflicted. Ororo watched as Roman Kowalski slump, a bloodied mess to the floor, hanging haphazardly on the ropes like a side of beef strung up in a butcher’s window. But still Logan didn’t stop...it was like he couldn’t...


*


*DING, DING, DING, DING, DING...* The usually piercing sound of the frantically ringing bell was muffled to Logan’s ears, fighting for prominence over the raging sound of rushing blood. The rage that had gripped him like wildfire began to melt away and it was only then that he became conscious of being restrained by at least two men, pulling him off Roman Kowalski, trying to pin his arms behind him. He became aware of one of them, he wasn’t sure which, repeating the word; “...easy, easy, easy now, easy...” in some kind of attempt to placate him.


Finally he did calm down, breaking free of the hold that the referee and some random fight organiser, who’d stepped in to help, had on him. They hovered near Logan for a moment, wary of a renewed attack, but when he simply walked away from the half-conscious, blood-gurgling Kowalski, they stepped back too. Then, two men climbed into the ring, grabbed him underneath his huge arms and hoisted the large man over their shoulders, taking him back through the parted ropes quickly.


Logan didn’t watch the half dead man being taken away, he still felt a little dazed---it was not often that he went crazy like that and now he was berating himself for having done it tonight of all nights, when she was here. This was the thing he’d dreaded the most about her being here, he knew when he fought tough opponents, he was apt to give in to the fury that bubble beneath the surface almost constantly. The last thing he wanted was for Ororo to see that, she was beginning to mean far too much to him. Trying to block out the shrill sound of the referee enthusiastically announcing his victory and the sanguinary cheers of the crowds, Logan lent on the ropes and quickly scanned for Ororo, he couldn’t see her anywhere and it wasn’t as if she was going to be too difficult to spot in a crowd like this. Then he spied the empty chair near the front.


* * *


Ororo stood in the tiny room, wondering if she were doing the right thing. Maybe she should have headed for the nearest exit. But she stayed and she couldn’t for the life of her work out why. What had happened back there? She wasn’t naive, she’d known what to expect, she’d seen her fair share of street fights, hell, she’d even been involved in few back in Cairo but what she saw in that ring had been different. Ororo may not have known Logan for very long, but for all his surly bravado, she would never have suspected that he could be...like that...The doors at the far end of the corridor clattered open and heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway outside and Ororo felt something spring up in her stomach, a strange tingling mingled with a fearful anticipation. Soft lips parted just a little and her eyes were wide and shone like polished precious stone. Her hand absently stole up to her chest, her thumb and index finger clasping lightly at the base of her neck as she stared at the door, the speeding beat of her pulse hammering her palm. The feeling in her stomach leapt up into her chest, crawling up her throat; an uneasy exhilaration filling her mouth with an odd taste. The door began to open and she swallowed down hard, trying to extinguish it.


Logan came in, still dressed in blood stained jeans, with a once-white towel, now nearly all blotchy red and pink, slunk over his bear shoulders. His hair was slicked back as much as it could be, still the two unruly points won out at the back, mirroring the wolf’s ears of his tattoo. He looked over at Ororo; his cut and bruised face a mask, locking with her glittering eyes until she averted them, turning from him altogether. Logan suppressed a sigh; he’d tried to warn her but she wouldn’t listen. He watched as she fiddled idly with something, pretending to gather her things together, though in truth she only really had her bag with her. Walking over, he stood at her back, but didn’t touch---not a sound passing between them, the only noise in the room was the synthetic buzz of the fluorescent strip light above and the dripping tap in the corner.


After an age, in the still, artificial silence, Logan asked in a quiet and strangely neutral voice, “‘You alright, darlin’?” He could have kicked himself; he hadn’t meant to sound so cold.


Ororo took her teeth from her bottom lip, an awful habit she was developing of late, placing the tip of her tongue on it lightly and briefly instead. She slowly turned her head in order to look over her shoulder at him, a large bang of white falling down to block her face. A sharp breath whistled into her mouth as Logan brought his hand up moved the thick lock out of the way, tucking behind her ear. As he did so, running his hand down behind her ear, he let his finger trail down her jaw line until it came to her chin. Once there, he clasped its small curve, turning her head upwards and with it drawing her round to face him.


“Darlin’?” he questioned, when after mere seconds she averted her eyes once more, looking anywhere but at him.


Ororo didn’t answer him; she simply closed her eyes, her beautiful mouth still semi open, letting out light but increasing breaths. She couldn’t believe this, but the closeness of him, his body heat, even after all she’d seen him do, caused the familiar pounding heat between her legs. All the mock feelings of danger she had been turned on by previously had, in fact, come true on this night but still, she wanted him more than anything, much against her better judgement. But she couldn’t stop herself, her body just wouldn’t let her and worst of all, by now, Logan could see it too. Their natural chemistry was unlike anything either of them had experienced before. His touch, that had been supremely hesitant at first, suddenly became more confidant and firm. The hand that had held Ororo’s chin lightly moved round, over her silky jaw once more to grasp at her hair and curve round the base of her skull, tenderly though, not at all as aggressively as it would have done in the past. His other hand clutched at her hip, pulling her towards his groin, so that she instantly pressed up against his quickly found erection. Her head jerked back compulsively as if in the exaggerated throws of ecstasy, pulling in that harsh breath of pleasure. All this was in response to his hand fumbling up her body from her hip to grip possessively at her breast until she parted her legs to let him come further into her space. Linking her hands in a tight grasp at the back of his neck, Ororo pushed her body into his as Logan bore down on her neck, pulling it to him with the hand at the back of her head. Dry, cut lips grazed over her skin, his breath lustful and hot as his erection pressed ever harder to her through her thin cotton dress. He didn’t kiss the chocolate skin; merely let his lips glide over her neck, up its elegant length, over the graceful curve of her chin and up to her mouth as her head came forwards again.


Letting out a shuddering sigh, the wistful sound was stifled as Logan kissed her, softly at first and then harder as he lost himself in her, until he found himself not only kissing but biting at her lips passionately. Ororo did reciprocate, enjoying the ferocity of it all but she quickly remembered herself, bringing her hands down to push against his shoulders and breaking from their clinch. But Logan wouldn’t allow her completely; holding her to him at the waste. Forcing her to hold his hazel gaze he asked, “What’s the matter?”


Ororo couldn’t bring herself to break the firm hold his eyes had on her but nor could she say anything because she didn’t know what to say, because she didn’t know how she felt. The fear was still there to an extent but her lust for him was overriding it, taking over any reasonable facility, but why should she be surprised by that? It was, after all, the pattern of their relationship so far.


“‘Ro, I warned you.” He looked at her darkly, his brow creased. “I told ya, you probably wouldn’t like what ya saw.” Studying her face for a reaction, he was met with uncertainty.


Placing her hand’s that had previously pushed, gently over his shoulders, so that the bloody towel that had nestled there fell to the ground, Ororo bore a look of consideration, her eyes down until the dark orbs flipped up suddenly to meet his steadily at last. “I know what you told me Logan, and at first it did not bother me---well, I admit, it did a little, but---.” She looked down again and she’d taken to biting her lip almost coyly, but as soon as she realised what she was doing she stopped. Only he could make her this nervous and that fact bothered her too.


“But what?” He reached up to under her chin and tipped her head, moving his face closer to hers.


“I didn’t recognise you Logan.” She told him earnestly, with a certain amount of bewilderment. Letting out a short, incredulous laugh, she added, “What was going on with you out there, I’ve never seen you like---.”


“Like what?” He countered quickly before she even had chance to finish the sentence.


“Like---.”


He cut in again. “You don’t even know me all that well darlin’, who are you to judge?” The moment he’d said the words, he regretted them. Defensiveness was just his way.


Ororo was about to make an indignant retort until she considered the truth of his words. Logan was right; she didn’t know him well at all really and to ever think she did had been folly. “No, I don’t, you’re right---so why don’t you tell me?”


“What?”


“Why you do it?”


“What? Fighting?---The same reason your a street thief I suppose.” He snapped. “Because it’s the one thing I’m good at.” As soon as he finished, Ororo got free of him, prying his arms from off of her body and heading for the door, but he caught her left arm and spun her back round. “What’s the matter darlin’, don’t like to hear the truth?”


Resisting the suddenly overwhelming urge to slap him, she spat back, “It’s got nothing to do with that, I don’t care that you’re a fighter---what bothers me is that you don’t seem too able to control yourself when you do it for goddess sake!”


Logan would have questioned her use of the word ‘goddess’, a term he’d never heard her use before, but that was the furthest concern from his mind right now. He didn’t know how to answer her because he couldn’t explain to her what had happened in the fight; he couldn’t even rationalise it to himself. “I told you,” he repeated, bereft of an alternative answer, “...you wouldn’t like what you saw.” His paused as his jaw tightened “So don’t pretend you expected to see anything else.” Nothing happened for a while then, each lost for words, too proud to give way. So naturally, there was only one thing for it; he yanked her to him and they picked up where they had left off.


Logan’s hands stole up to grab at her hair as they kissed in fervour as Ororo grasped at his shoulders once again, lost in the passion of it. His hard-on was still very much present as he backed her towards the door, and once she was pressed to it he lifted up the hem of her dress until it was rested about her hips. Hoisting her long thighs over his hips so that she instinctively clutched her lower legs around his waste, he used her self leverage to free his hands so that he could unzip his fly and quickly release his penis. Her weight pressed firmly against the door, balanced between him and it, he held one hand at her waste as the other held his cock steady as he guided it in.


Ororo gasped as his dick penetrated her, no matter how many times he’d entered her; it was still as source of pleasant surprise. He began to rut roughly, her already slick opening allowing him thorough access; there was no need to tease or cajole. She let out a series of uniform moans as he fucked her, the general sound of any woman in mildly arousing sex. Logan didn’t miss it; she was feeling pleasure that was certain, but it was circumspect. They’d slept together enough times for him to realise when she was truly enjoying herself or not, he had the funny feeling that she was holding back right now. So, catching a firm grip around her pert buttocks as her legs remained tightly wrapped about him, he took her from the door, carrying her over to the bench that was fixed to the breeze block wall. Withdrawing from her as she relinquished her grip with her legs, Logan quickly flipped her over, forcing her to hold tightly onto the slats of the bench as he positioned himself behind her.


Ororo gasped when she felt Logan’s finger teasing her clitoris, working her open again for him. Thus far, this seemed to be his favourite position with her. Inserting two more fingers, he continued to manipulate her sex ever roughly, until she gave a ragged gasp that sounded more like a cry of agony than gratification.


“You O.K darlin’?” he was courteous enough to ask as he removed his fingers and instead pushed his cock in and entered her ruthlessly. When she only made a slight noise in response he took it in lieu of an actual answer and began to pump rhythmically in and out of her, holding fast to her smooth hips. Ororo enjoyed this position as much Logan now, the sensation not only exciting her physically but the feeling of power he had over her making it an even more potent aphrodisiac. She tried to put the memory of his earlier brutishness out of her mind as he fucked her from behind, losing herself in it, giving herself to the orgasm that was building in her...



“Argh, argh, argh...” Ororo let out with the same rhythmic precession that he was pumping his sizable dick into her. The sounds of her rising peek of pleasure being matched only by Logan’s grunts, his fingers digging into her hip as he hit her harder and harder and harder...


She seized the length of thin wood, gripping it fervently as he rammed himself into her with more and more pace. “Argh, Logan.....ah, ah, ah, harder! Har---har--- Harder!” It was as if he had to hit the point when the satisfying pain was no longer digestible before she could climax. But without warning, Logan withdrew again, turning her around as he placed her on the floor, its tiles cold and hard against her back. Reaching up, he pulled her dress down from her breasts, ripping the straps without a care. As he took one breast in his eager mouth he plunged his cock into her, fucking her with a bestial, rolling stroke. Ororo pulled at his hair as he screwed her vigorously, the clammy wetness of the sweat bleeding into her fingers.


“Ah-huh, ah....yes Logan......please, ah, ah......harder, yes, yes, yes, yes arghhhhhhh!” As she came she clenched her legs tight, keeping him deep inside her; Logan’s own climax being born from a snarling sound emitted through clenched teeth; the final few thrusts hitting home hard as he grasped at her thighs.


Ororo made the sound of a final orgasm as he finished; spending himself inside her with pants of exhaustion, panting harshly into her ear. They held onto each other, the heat between them like a furnace, moisture melding the hot bodies together. As their breathing slowed, eventually Logan took his head from her shoulder, moving his face above her; the pair stared into each others eyes. An unspoken communication passed from rich brown orbs to hazel dashed with green ones. But, just as he went to take his mouth down to her soft, moist lips, she turned her head to the side.


A solitary tear slipped down Ororo’s face, spilling onto the cold, tiled floor, her white hair splayed underneath and above her like a sea nymph as she focused on the banal sight of the light coming through the gap at the bottom of the door and listened to the cloaked sound of men screaming with bloodlust at the next fight that was transpiring just up the hall.


-TBC-





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