Storm

Jean Grey lay in her bed alone, barely dressed in some skimpy black satin underwear. It was a hot sticky night, but her mind was on anything but self-gratification. She was definitely no stranger to onanism, and with her telepathic powers she knew that it wouldn't be long before she'd have to reacquaint herself.

In the meantime, she was flicking through a book of Phil Sheldon's photographs, trying to catch up on history, her history. Well, not her history, she was just a young girl after all, and this Jean Grey she was seeing, the one who became Phoenix, was a bit older. It was all a bit complicated, and had involved Beast plucking her and the other teenage X-Men from the past.

And speaking of Beast, that was when she picked up his thoughts coming from a nearby room, thoughts about her, and then she realized what he was doing. Beast by name, beast by nature. At first she was horrified at the debauchery he was imagining, with both her and with all the other X-Women, separately and together, and then she started to get turned on by it all, as the thoughts centered in on her. She suddenly realized her hand had wandered beneath her thong, as she felt her moistness with her fingertips.

As her digits circled, she got more and more turned on by his getting turned on by her, as they headed towards mutual orgasms. Her eyes rolled back in her head, as she felt chills, she felt so wet. So caught up in the moment was Jean Grey that she didn't even realize Ororo Munroe had entered the room.