Logan’s Leisure: Fishing, Beer, and Bitches—A Day in Markanda

As the video flickered onto the screen, Sarah’s brows furrowed slightly, her breath catching despite herself. The footage was striking in its raw depiction of life in the transformed streets of Birnan Zana. This was Wolverine—Logan—but not the feral X-Man who fought for mutantkind's survival alongside the Avengers or against Magneto’s extremists. This Logan was something else entirely. He strode confidently through the city, fully nude, his muscular body on display, exuding an effortless dominance that came from being one of the top mutants in this strange new world.

Even through the screen, Sarah couldn’t help but be struck by Wolverine’s presence. His body was a masterpiece—thick pecs, shredded abs, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, every inch of him corded muscle, hardened by years of battle. And there, between his legs, his large cock swung with casual weight, unbothered even in its flaccid state, a constant reminder of the primal power he wielded.

He walked through the bustling streets holding a fishing rod in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other, as if he were out for a leisurely afternoon. It was absurd—this once-deadly fighter, now moving through the city like he owned it. And in Markanda, in many ways, he did.

Sarah glanced at her colleagues, who watched the video with a mix of fascination and disgust. The SHIELD agents weren’t prepared for this—a former hero like Wolverine, now part of the unrelenting sexual carnival that was life in Markanda.

“Is he… fishing?” Jack muttered under his breath, incredulous.

Sarah gave a tight nod, keeping her eyes on the screen. Wolverine was headed to a riverbank in one of the capital’s parks, where maybe the natural beauty of Wakanda had remained untouched by the sexual decadence overtaking the city (though if so, not for long). His movements were calm, self-assured, a man entirely at ease with the world around him.

As Logan cracked open a beer and cast his line into the river, Sarah couldn’t help but notice the women beginning to gather around him. They moved with a kind of predatory grace, most already naked or quickly stripping down to match his nudity. Their dark skin gleamed in the sunlight, bodies diverse and striking, toned and curvaceous in ways that made it clear they knew how to present themselves.

“They’re like… vultures,” Lisa whispered from beside Sarah, her tone filled with a mix of unease and curiosity.

In Markanda, modesty had long since vanished, especially in the presence of mutant studs like Wolverine. The women angled their bodies, making themselves seen but not encroaching on his space—yet. It was clear they were waiting for something, hoping for his attention. The way they socialized and laughed was almost normal, but there was an undeniable tension, an unspoken competition for who might catch Logan’s eye first.

Wolverine, for his part, didn’t seem to care. His focus remained on the water, taking long sips from his beer as if the gathering of naked women around him were a daily occurrence. And in Markanda, it was.

The camera zoomed out to capture the full scene: Wolverine fishing, relaxed, while the beautiful women circled him like birds waiting to pounce. There was something choreographed about it, a ritual they all knew by heart. It wasn’t just about sex—it was about the new hierarchy. Mutants were the apex predators, and the humans, even in their desire, understood their place.

Suddenly, one of the women broke from the group. She moved with confidence, each step deliberate as she approached Logan from behind. Her body was curvaceous and toned, her skin dark and smooth, her long legs carrying her across the grass with purpose. She didn’t hesitate—she got down on all fours directly ahead of Wolverine, her big, round ass raised high in the air as she arched her back, offering herself to him.

There was nothing subtle about it. She spread her asscheeks wide with both hands, revealing her glistening pussy lips and puckered asshole, already dripping with arousal. Her body trembled with anticipation, her desire evident as a line of slick wetness dripped from her swollen pussy to the ground.

Sarah’s eyes flicked across the room, gauging her colleagues' reactions. Jack’s face twisted in disbelief, while Lisa’s eyes remained fixed on the screen, mouth slightly open.

“Wow…” Lisa whispered, voice breathy.

The camera zoomed in closer, lingering on the explicit display. You could see the way her inner walls clenched in anticipation, her body eager to take whatever Logan would give her. It was raw, primal, and completely unrestrained.

Wolverine, without hesitation or even a second glance, shifted his weight, squatting down. His beer stayed in one hand while his other guided his cock to her entrance. The camera caught the moment in perfect detail: his thick shaft pushing against her swollen lips before sliding inside her with ease. The woman moaned loudly as he filled her, her body arching in response to his size.

But Logan, true to form, barely reacted. He didn’t stop fishing—his other hand stayed on his rod, and he rested his beer casually on her back, using her like a convenient table. It was an absurd sight, the juxtaposition of one of the world’s deadliest mutants casually fucking a woman while leisurely fishing in broad daylight.

“This is… fucked up,” Jack muttered, though his eyes never left the screen.

The scene became more surreal as the camera panned out. Around them, the women continued to gather. Some had started touching themselves, their fingers moving between their legs as they watched Wolverine thrust into the woman beneath him. Soft moans and gasps filled the air, a public display of pleasure that was as common in Markanda as walking down the street.

The other women weren’t just watching, either. They began to touch one another, hands roaming over slick skin, fingers dipping into wetness, lips meeting in hungry kisses. It was a community activity now, their pleasure enhanced by Wolverine’s dominance over the woman in front of them.

Around them, life in Birnan Zana continued as usual. Boats drifted along the river, pedestrians strolled through the park, and more onlookers gathered to watch the spectacle unfold. Some were there to simply spectate, their eyes glued to the sight of a famous mutant stud fucking in broad daylight.

And then there were the men.

Before the mutant takeover of Wakanda, Sarah knew this scene might have sparked outrage—fury at seeing a foreign man, a mutant, fucking one of their women in such a public, brazen way. But now, in Markanda, things were different. The men didn’t react with jealousy or anger. Instead, they grinned and pointed, some even laughing as they watched Logan take his pleasure. A few of them openly stroked their small, dark cocks, jerking off to the sight without shame, fully embracing this new world where mutants like Wolverine were the alpha males.

Sarah swallowed hard, her throat tight as she took it all in. The men’s reactions were a mix of admiration and arousal—no longer rivals, but spectators, content to let the mutants take what they wanted while they observed from the sidelines. It was as if they had accepted that their genetic legacy would end here, sacrificed to help raise mutant spawn in a future they were no longer truly part of.

Logan’s thrusts grew more intense, his focus shifting from the fishing rod to the woman beneath him. His muscles tensed with each movement, his thick cock plunging deeper into her as she writhed in response, moaning louder, her body quaking as he fucked her harder.

The camera zoomed in on every detail—the rhythmic bounce of her ass, the way Logan’s cock disappeared into her, the soft slap of his balls against her slick thighs. Around them, the women’s moans and cries of pleasure became more urgent, their hands moving faster between their legs or over each other’s bodies, openly masturbating and touching with no hesitation.

Sarah’s heart pounded in her chest, a knot of heat coiling low in her abdomen. It was impossible to deny the raw eroticism of it all. Wolverine’s dominance, the way the entire scene revolved around him, the submission of the woman beneath him—it was overwhelming.

As the intensity of the scene built, Logan’s movements grew rougher, his thrusts more powerful, each one drawing gasps and moans from the woman beneath him. Her body shook with each impact, her ass bouncing back against his hips, her hands gripping the grass for stability. But Logan wasn’t done yet.

Without missing a beat, he gripped her waist with both hands, easily lifting her up off the ground as if she weighed nothing. Her legs kicked slightly in surprise, but she quickly adjusted as Wolverine repositioned her. In one fluid motion, he hooked his arms under her legs, pulling them up and pressing her knees back toward her shoulders. Her body was completely at his mercy, bent in a deep, exposed arch as he held her in a standing full-nelson.

Her tits swung wildly with each movement, bouncing and jiggling as Logan began to fuck her with renewed vigor. The sheer strength of his thrusts lifted her higher with each plunge, her body moving in sync with his as she moaned loudly, the sounds of their skin slapping together filling the park. Her pussy clung tightly to him, stretched wide around his thick cock as he drove into her again and again, her breasts heaving with each forceful thrust.

Around them, the gathered women continued to watch, their eyes glued to the scene as they touched themselves, their fingers working frantically between their legs. The men, too, stroked their cocks, openly jerking off as they watched the legendary Wolverine take what was his. There was no jealousy, no resentment—just awe, as they witnessed the raw display of mutant dominance.

Logan’s breathing grew heavier, his muscles tensing and flexing as he neared his climax. His cock throbbed inside the woman, her pussy tightening around him as she cried out, her body writhing in pleasure. The roughness of his thrusts sent shockwaves through her, each one pushing her closer to the edge as he hammered into her with unrelenting ****.

And then, with a deep, guttural growl, Logan reached his peak. He slammed into her one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he released a thick, powerful load deep inside her. The camera zoomed in on the point of their connection, capturing every detail as his cock pulsed and shot thick ropes of cum into her womb, filling her completely.

The woman’s body trembled as she came with him, her moans mixing with his growls as her orgasm overtook her. Logan held her in place, his cock buried deep inside her, as thick streams of cum began to flow out from her overstretched pussy. The camera lingered on the sight, capturing the way his cum dripped down the base of his shaft, coating his balls in a slick, creamy glaze as it spilled out of her.

The juxtaposition of the rough, animalistic fucking and what came next was almost jarring. Logan, having spent himself, slowly lowered the woman from his arms, his grip surprisingly gentle after the intensity of their coupling. He set her down carefully, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm as she collapsed onto her knees in front of him.

Wolverine’s softened cock, still dripping with cum, hung heavily between his legs. Almost immediately, three women from the gathered crowd moved in, their eyes filled with reverence and desire. Without a word, they knelt at Logan’s feet and began to clean him with their mouths and tongues.

One woman took the head of his cock into her mouth, her lips wrapping around it as she sucked off the last remnants of his cum and the woman’s juices. Another licked along the length of his shaft, her tongue tracing the thick veins as she cleaned every inch of him. The third focused on his balls, her tongue darting out to lap up the creamy mess that had coated them, her soft hands gently cupping and massaging him as she worked.

Logan barely reacted, his body relaxed as he let the women tend to him, his eyes half-closed in satisfaction. The scene had shifted from rough, primal sex to something almost tender, as the women devoted themselves to cleaning him, their tongues working diligently to make sure no trace of the recent fuck remained. One of the men had scrambled forward to snatch one of the beers off the ground, snapped it open and offered it to him.

Wolverine chuckled and took it with a nod of thanks, taking a long chug. The Markandan male returning to his fellows with a grin, receiving congratulatory back slaps and looks of envy.

Around them, the park had returned to its usual hum of activity. The boats continued to glide by on the river, and the onlookers, satisfied with what they had witnessed, began to disperse. But the women cleaning Logan remained, their focus entirely on the task at hand, as the soft sounds of their sucking and licking filled the air.

Sarah’s eyes remained glued to the screen, her mind reeling from the intensity of what she had just witnessed. The mixture of **** and tenderness, the sheer power dynamics at play—it was overwhelming. Part of her hated it, hated the way this proud country had warped into something so raw, so sexualized. And yet, despite herself, she couldn’t deny the visceral pull of the scene, the way it stirred something deep within her.

It was Markanda, after all—a world where mutants ruled, and everything else was secondary.