Ororo makes a call

Ororo Munroe pressed the state-of-the-art X-Phone to her ear as she made a call she would not have ever considered making without the insistence of Mark, her one and only King.

The dial tone was muted over the relative silence of Mark’s bedroom. She wasn't alone.

Her King smiled at her as he placed himself between Jean's creamy, flawless legs. Jean could barely contain her whimper at the sensation of the massive pole of pure alpha manmeat poised at the entrance of her slick love tunnel.

Ororo blushed when she felt the phantom sensation of Mark's cock in her own pussy, stretching her and claiming her as his woman. Her skin flared a delightful shade of red and she bit her lip, wishing that her King had decided to fuck her while she called T'Challa, damn the consequences it might have if the Black Panther figured out what was going on through the telephone call.

"He's so fucking big," Ororo whispered to herself. Her toned thighs rubbed together unconsciously.

"Ororo?" A deep, heavily accented voice came through over the phone. It was a voice that had once made her heart skip a beat. Now... she furrowed her brow in surprise. Now she felt nothing.

"T'Challa," she made her voice small, meek. Men were genetically predisposed to be protective of women, especially those who seemed hurt or ****. "I need help."

"What is wrong? Has someone harmed you? I swear if I find..." she tuned him out at that point. His concern was almost insulting considering how abruptly he'd rejected her and ripped her heart out so callously. She directed her attention to Mark as he slowly fucked Jean, maintaining a gentle rhythm. There was a loving tenderness to their movements. A deep caring that manifested itself when Jean leaned upward to capture her young lover's lips in a searing kiss. Mark responded readily, drinking greedily of the endless ocean of love and devotion and sex and obedience that Jean offered him.

Ororo's heart quickened its pace within her chest, as if recognizing its place as Mark's possession. It was as if it knew that Mark was the reason it beat its lifegiving rhythm in the first place. She smiled as tears streamed down her cheeks. She wanted to kiss and fuck and love Mark for the rest of her life.

"...Ororo, are you well? Is everything alright?"

"N-no," the hiccup in her voice wasn't fake. Neither were the tears.

“Ororo. Is there anything I can do?” the Black Panther’s voice softened.

Ororo met Mark’s eyes and smiled. Mark smirked back and removed his cock from Jean’s tight pussy before inserting it again up to the hilt, causing the married redhead to gasp.

“Y-yes. Something awful happened and I just need to get away from the Institute for a while,” Ororo said softly. “Would you help me, T’Challa, or has our past made that impossible?”

“No!” The man’s denial was immediate. Ororo couldn’t help the malicious grin that spread across her face. “I’ll send a craft for you piloted by someone I trust with my life. They should be in the States by tomorrow. Since they will not be able to land at a traditional airfield, you will have to send me coordinates for a landing site. Any open area larger than one of your baseball fields will do. You can come stay in Wakanda as long as you need. Please, Ororo. Let me help you.”

Ororo wasn’t sure if it was guilt over how their relationship ended or lingering romantic feelings that influenced T’Challa’s decision to help her. The man was also highly chivalrous in his own right, which likely played a significant role.

All those beautiful women close to him and he never slept around, even when he had the authority to tell them to spread their legs for him at any moment.

She used to think T’Challa had been an upstanding and decent man for not using his power to make the women closest to him his in every way that mattered. After submitting to Mark, however, she knew better.

The Dora Milaje warrior-women would make excellent servants and personal guards for Mark. T’Challa was weak for not using their bodies that they displayed so openly for his viewing pleasure.

She could barely contain her excitement at the thought of the deadly African martial arts mistresses submitting body, mind, and soul to a young white man from the West, throwing away centuries of Wakandan tradition for his sake. The idea was so decadent and wrong that it caused her sex to tingle and twitch.

“Thank you!” Ororo said. “I didn’t know if you would actually help. I’m glad I can count on you, T’Challa. It means more to me than you know.”

“I am glad to help. Send me your location and I will make arrangements to have one of my pilots meet you,” the Black Panther paused for a moment. “It is… agreeable to speak with you again, Ororo.”

“And you as well. Goodbye T’Challa and… thanks, for everything.”

T’Challa said his farewells and she ended the call. She approached Mark and Jean who had shifted from missionary to doggystyle. Mark alternated between slapping either of Jean’s asscheeks, grinning perversely as the omega-level mutant moaned submissively with each impact.

“Ahn! Ah! Yes, Mark! FILL me up like Scott never could!” Jean screamed when Mark hilted his member in her spasming cunt and came, plugging her fertile womb with his potent seed. “Oh my god…” she whimpered.

Ororo licked her lips. “My King, the ruse worked. T’Challa has agreed to fly me over to Wakanda.”

Mark glanced at her nude form and she felt the sudden need to bow deferentially to him.

“My, my. I’m not even King yet and you’re treating me like royalty,” Mark said. Ororo smiled. She loved hearing the sound of his voice.

She looked up at him. “If you’re going to be king, you should get used to people bowing to you. It is, as they say, part of the job.”

Mark extricated his still-hard cock from Jean’s well-fucked pussy. Rivulets of thick baby batter poured openly from her folds.

“Oh Jesus…” Jean muttered from her position face-down on the bed as the aftershocks of her orgasm hit her.

Mark nodded at her. “I guess. So you said the call went well?”

“I believe so,” Ororo replied. It took every ounce of her willpower to look her King in the eye instead of staring at his cock. “The Black Panther has entrusted the task of bringing me to Wakanda to one of his most loyal servants. If we are lucky, you could turn a member of his inner circle before we even reach the country.”

“Awesome! I hope he sent a woman. When did he say he'd pick you up?”

"Sometime tomorrow. I imagine he'll call again with more specifics on the timeframe," Ororo said.

Mark grinned at her, causing her heart to do somersaults in her chest. He said, "Outstanding. Great work, Ororo! You've made me very happy."

“It was nothing, my King,” the white-haired mutant lowered her head, face flushed.

“Nah, you definitely deserve a reward. Get on the bed next to Jean and with your ass in the air,” he said. Ororo hurried to obey, the idea of refusing him completely absent from her mind. The bed was soft as she rested her chest on the comforter and jutted her ass in the air. Her black pussy was moist with arousal, drooling the fluid of her sex onto the already-stained sheets.

She felt the bed shift around her until hands palmed her rear.

“Damn, I fucking love your big black ass,” Mark muttered. His hands squeezed and pinched and slapped Ororo’s assflesh. “I could play with it all day. T’Challa was a fucking moron for rejecting this.”

“T’Challa doesn’t matter to me anymore, my King. My ass belongs to you,” Ororo could barely contain how pleased she was to have Mark's attention and praise. “You can do whatever you want with it; play with it, spank it… fuck it.”

She let out a breathy moan as she imagined a full day of Mark just playing with her ass and using it however he wanted. She’d have to try to convince him to go through with it one day. She pushed her ample rump into the teenager’s hands and was rewarded with a sharp slap on the tush for her efforts.

"Oh!" She moaned.

The bed shifted again as Jean placed herself in front of Ororo. The woman’s green eyes gleamed mischievously as she raised herself so her cum-filled pussy was positioned in front of Ororo’s lips.

The unmistakable scent of Mark’s ejaculate hit her nostrils and she let out a long sigh. Jean smirked and reached a hand to her pussy, covering her fingers with a sheen of semen before reaching them to her lips.

“Slurp. Smack. Slorp.”

“Mmmmm…” Jean moaned as she cleaned her fingers of Mark’s delicious cum. A powder keg of need ignited within Ororo.

“Jean,” she whimpered shamelessly. “Jean, please.”

“Yes? What is it, Ororo? Oh god, this cum is so delicious,” the woman who was perhaps her closest friend teased her remorselessly. She felt a flash of irritation before ruthlessly crushing it.

Her King would be displeased if she grew resentful of his other most favored servant. He deserved to be happy, unburdened by petty squabbles between his servants who were supposed to put his needs and wishes first.

When Jean gave her a warm smile Ororo knew that she had perceived that last line of thought with her telepathy.

“Here, Ororo,” Jean spread her pussy lips with her hand, allowing a trickle of white cum to spill from the confines of her folds. “Taste your reward for pleasing our Master."

She dove in, lips latching onto Jean's used cunt. The sweet taste of Mark's cum reached her tongue. Just where it belonged. She swallowed greedily, welcoming the baby batter into her throat and stomach. She tingled all over as a rush of warmth spread over her body like a thick blanket.

She felt something warm and big nudge the puckered rosebud of her asshole and though dazed, she bit her lip, fully aware of what was about to happen.

Mark's cockhead nudged its way past her sphincter slowly.

"Tch..." Jean hissed above her and she realized that she'd clamped down on her friend's clit. She opened her mouth and lowered herself further, noisily slurping Mark's cum. She moaned delightedly at the taste and the knowledge of its presence inside her. It made her feel full and entirely at ease, as if a second appetite had been appeased.

"Ugh," she moaned guttorally as her King's cock pressed into her rectum, sending white-hot flashes of pain dancing across her awareness until they finally subsided into a dull ache of pleasure. She drew a shuddering breath. She'd never done anything like this with T'Challa, but she doubted it would have felt even nearly this good.

She felt Mark spread her thick asscheeks with his hands and imagined him watching his fat, hard cock disappear into her asshole. She squeezed her ass muscles around the two inches of cockmeat in rear to let him know that she was ready for more.

"Oh my! Ororo, you look hot with our Master's cock up your ass," Jean said. She laced hand through Ororo's long hair. "How does it feel to be stretched by that huge cock?"

"Ah!" Ororo whimpered when Mark thrust his cock further into her rectum. She dislodged herself from Jean's pussy, spilling precious white seed on the bed. "I-it hurts, but it feels soooo good, Jean! O-oh god!"

"Fuck!" Mark moved and suddenly Ororo felt his entire length inside her. Her hazel eyes bulged and she almost choked at the foreign sensation in her rear.

Ororo wanted to encourage her lover to show no mercy to her, to use her asshole as he pleased. The idea of her - THE Storm of the legendary X-Men - being so utterly conquered by a boy her junior was so hot and decadent. She wanted to surrender to her own surrender, to debase herself utterly for Mark's amusement and pleasure.

It was enough to trigger her orgasm. She screamed and whined and shuddered as Mark railed in and out of her ass, showering her with a sensation of delicious agony she knew no word for.