The Wine Flows

Within minutes, both women were toweled off and dressed in large t-shirts that covered the essentials. Sue Storm's was a Thunderbolts jersey, while Karla was wearing an Avengers jersey with an Oscorp tag. The psychiatrist had a white leather living room set around a small coffee table, and Sue Storm sat on the loveseat as Dr. Stone poured the white wine.

"Are you sure we should be drinking?" Sue said with a frown.

"You need a drink. I would like a drink. And neither of us are going out tonight in this weather, barring some emergency. You have your communicator on, yes?" Dr. Stone asked.

"Yes," Sue confirmed.

"Good. You should call your husband. Say something came up and you're staying over. Otherwise he might worry," she suggested.

It was too eminently sensible a suggestion to ignore, so Sue called him. He picked up on the third ring, concern evident in his voice, but he accepted her explanation once Sue explained she was with her psychiatrist for some emergency counseling.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," Sue said with a sigh, and hung up.

She sipped the wine. It was yeasty, bubbly. Not at all what she would have picked for the occasion, but it seemed to cut straight through the thickness in her throat. Dr. Stone sipped hers and watched Sue.

"So," the doctor said. "Tell me."

Sue Storm did. About the kiss. The proposition in the bar. The inner conflict for her very sexual identity that seemed to be tearing her apart.

Dr. Stone listened. Then she poured the second glass. Or was it the third? The light seemed to catch Dr. Stone's glasses and for a moment the psychiatrist's eyes seemed to glow, her golden head haloed by light. Then the moment passed, and Sue realized her glass was empty again, and Dr. Stone was refilling it. Even as she sipped the wine, Sue realized Dr. Stone had been listening and Sue had only been half-listening.

"The thing about humans," the blonde in the Avengers shirt said. "Is that we're not naturally meant to be monogamous. You look at nature, and there are so many different paradigms for how apes get together. Lesbianism isn't uncommon. Hell, bonobos make oral sex the basis of their social interactions. You are stressing yourself out about all of this when it could be so, so simple."

"How?" Sue said, and realized with alarm that her glass was empty. She wasn't sure how she had drained it that fast.

"By realizing your desires," Karla said, and she pulled the empty glass from Sue Storm's unresisting fingers. The heroine felt the room spin around her. She watched, slightly dizzy, as Karla pulled the shirt aside to reveal her lap, the shaven pussy. The psychiatrist put her thighs together, making a little cup. The last of the bottle was poured into the little space between thigh and pussy. "When you're thirsty, you drink."

Sue Storm stared at the pool of wine. Karla's glowing eyes danced in the reflection.

"You're thirsty, aren't you Susan?" Karla said.

The Invisible Woman sank onto her knees. Her lips delved between those legs, touched the warm ****. It was a long, messy slurp, and Sue chased it to the bottom, where her tongue found something else. Warm. Wet. Inviting. The legs parted, and the Invisible Woman's tongue slipped into Karla's cunny.

She did not see the blood that oozed down from Moonstone's nostril.

"From now on," Dr. Stone said. "When you're thirsty, you drink. When you're horny, you fuck. Whomever it is. Whenever it is. This is who you are. Who you've always been. You just haven't realized it until now."

Sue Storm didn't respond with a word. Her tongue was swirling around inside the wine-soaked cunt. Her body and mind accepted the lesson.

And Sue Storm's marriage would never be the same.