Dr. Stone Encourages Sue Storm To Fantasize About Namor

In the book store, Sue Storm carefully considered the available journals. She hadn't kept a journal since she was in college, but she was a firm believer in having the right journal for the task. What she selected was a tooled leather cover, with a golden clamshell fixed to the spine. The paper inside was a pale white, speckled with blue and grey, and the ribbon was a golden shimmer of sea silk.

The journal went under her pillow. Dinner with the kids was shrimp; which everyone loved, Ben Grimm able to eat pounds and pounds of steamed shrimp if you let him, the children laughing as they peeled the shells off, Johnny playing with his food by searing the shrimp on a slab of pink Himalayan salt with one flame-lit finger.

Later, Reed kissed Sue goodnight and went off to the lab. Something about a collaboration with Hank Pym to make sure the Micronauts couldn't escape containment. Which left the Invisible Woman all alone, in bed, dressed only in an over-sized Fantastic Four t-shirt, with her new journal and Doctor Stone's homework.

"Write out your fantasies," Sue repeated out loud. "Safely explore your sexual desires by expressing them in your journal."

Sue chewed on her lip, not sure where to start. So she turned to a memory.

It was raining. He always smelled like the sea. It just seemed to cling to him, that broad, muscled chest. The prince never liked to wear too many clothes. No shame in showing his body. The hard body that the rain rolled down.

I told him no. I always told him no. That I was married. I love my husband.

But sometimes, I wonder what it would be like. What if...I let myself go. Just once. How it would feel, if he didn't take "no" for an answer. If he had dragged me out into the rain with him, into his arms. That terrible strength forcing my warm body against his. His mouth on my mouth. His tongue, pushing past my last defense. The hardness of his manhood digging into my hip, ready to have his way with me right then and there.

A part of me would want to fight back. Another part of me would want to experience it, at least once. Reed had never been as passionate as him. As forceful. Dominant. Hands that could tear apart battleships ripping off my clothing. Even trying to be gentle, he could barely contain that massive strength, that terrible ardor.

Then, to be lifted off the ground. The tiny, delicate wings on his ankles flapping, his strange mutant power drawing us both into the sky, into the storm. Instantly soaked to the skin as his small green trunks fall onto the shredded remnants of my Fantastic Four costume. The penetration would come in the roll of a thunderclap, piercing me to the core, my cry of shame and pleasure lost in the rumble and roar of the storm.

Sue shuddered as the fantasy reached a point she had never dared consider, even in her deepest dreams. With an effort, she closed the journal and set it on the end table. Maybe there was something to what Dr. Stone said. Maybe writing these fantasies out would help exorcise the pent-up stress she felt.

All Sue knew was that hoped those fantasies would not haunt her dreams.