Sue Doesn't Notice - But Reed Does

The first night had been magical. Like their honeymoon all over again. The day after, Reed Richards had been pleased when Sue sought him out again, not satisfied until she had rung him dry, and then he had found his cheeks pressed between her thighs, his tongue lapping at her hot sex until she moaned and quivered in satisfaction. When she had crawled under his desk at the lab and pulled down his pants on the third day after his return, Mister Fantastic had realized how terribly Sue must have missed him, and redoubled his efforts to see to his wife's sexual needs.

Except...it hadn't ended.

If anything, it grew more ****.

Seven days after his return, Reed Richards awoke in his bed to find his wife sucking his cock. When he was asleep, his control over his stretching abilities was minimal, and she had kneaded his boner like clay until it was thirteen inches long. That had only been the first time that day; Sue had sought him out four more times during the next twelve hours, hips swaying, face flushed and eyes dilated. Murmuring filthy needs, fantasies, ecstatic at his every erection, and every dollop of cum she could coax out of him.

Reed had not wanted to admit there was a problem. He began to increase the zinc and protein in his diet, stocked a supply of erectile dysfunction medications, redoubled his efforts to satisfy Sue in the bedroom, at night. Where it was appropriate.

Then, ten days after his return, Reed saw it. The little pink pill that Sue swallowed with breakfast. The strange smile that came to Sue's features. The color that rose to her cheeks, the way her eyes dilated.

Then the invisible hand that pulled on his cock, under the table. Reed had frozen, French toast halfway to his mouth. Johnny and Ben were at the table with them, the kids had finished their cereal and run off to get dressed for a trip to Stark Industries' tour for young scientists. Sue had met his glance, her elbows on the table, but an invisible hand stroked his cock with firm, familiar pressure.

Then he had felt it. Pressed against his asshole. A questing, testing, invisible ****, not unlike a finger.

Reed had done his best to smile and eat, to chat with Johnny and Reed. If they noticed Mister Fantastic's discomfort, they made no mention of it. When he began to ****, coughing and sputting on a gulp of coffee, it was Ben Grimm that reached out one craggy hand and gently tapped him on the back.

"Y'all right stretch?" The Thing asked.

"J-just fine, Ben," Reed sputtered between coughs. "Turns out hot caffeine shouldn't be applied directly to the lungs."

That gave smiles all around. And if anyone noticed that Sue's coffee cup dipped below the table and came back swirling with a load of fresh "milk"—no one said anything.

As he walked away from the table, asshole hurting, balls drained, Reed Richard experienced a moment of exceeding post-nut clarity. In his lab, he called up H.E.R.B.I.E.'s log, coordinated Sue's pill intake with their sexual encounters—and found a very disturbing pattern. Worse, it was increasing. The more pills Sue took, the more frequently she desired sex.

Reed frowned, not sure whether to confront Sue with this directly, or to gather more evidence.