Betsy

Ben sat down next to the purple-haired woman. What could he say, he liked girls with odd hair colors. Ben nodded his greeting to her, and Betsy did the same. "So, how're you doing?" Ben asked.

"Oh, just fine." she said. She looked him up and down appraisingly. "You know what you do yet?"

Ben looked at her, nonplussed. She shook her head, muttered "New mutants." and elaborated. "What's your power? I can make these." For a brief second, there was a flash of purple and her hand was enveloped in a purple knife of energy. "They've got no substance, but they're pretty good at messing with people's minds."

"Oh." Ben said. "I don't know exactly what causes it, but when I touch girls, it seems to make them need to fuck me."

"Any girl?"

"So far."

Betsy quirked an eyebrow and reached over. Her index finger lightly scraped his shoulder. "I don't need to fuck you."

"It looks like it's gotta be my skin."

Slowly, sensually, she dragged her finger down his arm. Teasingly, she stopped just before his skin. Taking pleasure out of his blushing and rapid breathing, she tapped his skin. Just once.

Ben looked at her eyes, and it seemed like a light just went off behind them. Quickly, all traces of taking it slow vanished and she jerked down his zipper. She fished around in his pants for a moment before her hand emerged with his nine inch cock.

With speed borne of desperation, she began jerking him off. Ben hissed in pleasure and looked around for anything to distract him.