Sue Storm's Gooning Makes Her Neglectful

"Mommy, can we—"

"Not now, honey," Sue Storm said as her phone buzzed, turning away and walking into her bedroom. "I need to take this."

The Invisible Woman had her pants and panties down scarcely a moment after the door was shut. She stared at her phone, smiling as ME TIME flashed on the screen. By the time her fingers found her slit, she was already wet. On the screen, three fingers dove into the clean-shaven muff, stretching that hot, dripping snatch.

When Sue moaned, it was in unison with the sounds the phone was making.

"Hey sweetie," Ben Grimm grumbled. "Where's Susie? It's lunchtime."

The answer came soft and petulant.

"Mommy's in her bedroom. Mommy's always in her bedroom lately."

The Thing stared at the closed door and frowned. He had noticed Sue looked tired lately. Dark bags under her eyes, a languor to her movements, despite the smile that seemed to come easily. Not that he saw much of her these days. She had ceased setting out breakfast for the family or even the kids, letting H.E.R.B.I.E. pour the cereal and milk. Dinners were delivered more often than cooked.

Ben Grimm handled making lunch. Then he stood outside the door to Sue and Reed's bedroom, one big hand raised to rap. Just to check on her. Just to express concern.

Then he heard it. Faint, very faint, some flaw in the soundproofing. His ear pressed near the door.

"...lick my gash honeypot pussy slit twat quim cunt fuck my gash honey..."

It was a constant, dull refrain, unmistakably Sue's voice. Ben Grimm recoiled from the door and lowered his hand.

"Somethin' wrong here," he grumbled. The Thing made a decision then, one that would have critical repercussions. "Need to talk to somebody."