Brandon woke up feeling refreshed—a rarity for him, as he usually stirred lazy and groggy. But now, he looked beneath him and realized he was literally on top of Raven like a sloth hugging a tree: her face turned to the side on the pillow for breath, his arms wrapped around her like a jacket, cocooning her blue form. For a second, he panicked, thinking he might have suffocated her, but then remembered she was a mutant with a resilient body—and honestly, he didn't want to get off her just yet. He glanced right toward the window; the sun wasn't up, the room still dim with pre-dawn gray. Turning left, he spotted his phone in its little pocket attached to the bed, charging quietly.
He slid out his left arm from underneath, where it had been hugging Raven's stomach—using it to push her ass toward his crotch for better "cushion" during the night. As he removed it successfully, he pushed up, making his dick slide deeper between her ass cheeks through the thin fabric. *I mean, I could have pushed myself up, but nah—that's stupid. I have a perfectly nice ass to grind on in the morning.* Actually, now that he thought about it, if this were a normal woman, she'd have told him to get off—too heavy, too hot, too uncomfortable. But Raven always knew what he wanted; he figured it came as part of her gift, her innate knowledge of him. *Mmm, future me can ponder that later.*
Anyway, he grabbed his phone, turned it on, and saw it was 6:00 a.m. *What the hell? Damn, I slept like a baby—I usually wake up at 10:00 a.m. on weekends. Sexual relief really does change everything, huh?* As Brandon checked his phone, absentmindedly rubbing his dick between Raven's butt cheeks while laying on top of her—the soft, warm give of her cheeks clenching slightly with each subtle shift—he opened the Amazon app. The delivery truck would arrive between 12:30 and 1:45 p.m. *Damn, that late? But whatever.*
He looked down at Raven's back; she was still in that sexy-ass slutty lingerie nightgown and thong set—the naughty floral lace babydoll sleepwear in white, sheer mesh hugging her curves like a second skin, floral patterns teasing over her blue breasts and hips, the thong a whisper-thin strip vanishing between her cheeks. *Damn,* Brandon thought, *and I get to fuck, grind, and do everything else fun whenever I want.* He looked up in a praying pose and thanked the cosmic lottery—and for not being one of the billion idiots who opened the box. *Though I do wonder how THE ENTITY let that voice borrow Ghosty...* Anyway, he checked his phone again: 6:15 a.m. Not much to do but wait for packages at home. And now that he thought about it, he was happy his house wasn't attached to others—it'd be awkward if neighbors heard moaning and fucking all night and day. Brandon giggled at the "day" part, because normal couples didn't have sex or foreplay in the morning, or whenever the man wanted. As they say, the woman holds the keys to the doors of pleasure.
Anyway, he had hours until the packages arrived—and hours later until he got to bend Emma Frost over. *Hahaha,* Brandon laughed at the thought. So, he sat up from laying on top of Raven, took out his dick from the opening in the front of his boxers—thick and veined, already semi-hard from the morning grind—and placed it between her ass cheeks. But before that, he wanted more skin contact, so he grabbed her white string thong, pulled it aside, and buried his dick while opening her cheeks wide. The blue flesh parted like silk, warm and plush, her butthole winking slightly as he nestled against it. Then he squeezed her butt cheeks like a sandwich, his dick throbbing in the middle, and started grinding on her—slow, deliberate thrusts that made her cheeks jiggle softly, the friction building heat like velvet fire.
He started hearing slight moaning from her—a low, sleepy "Mmm"—and looked down to see her face. She had a Cheshire smile, eyes half-lidded with mischief. In her lore-accurate Mystique voice—sultry, dangerous, with that edge of amusement—she said, "Oh, honey, you're already pumping, ain't you?" while giggling, a throaty sound that vibrated through her body.
Brandon looked like he'd been caught with his pants down—which, currently, he didn't have pants on. He stared at her while still grinding, his hips rolling smoothly. "You can't blame me, babe—look at this sexy blue ass of yours. It's big, juicy, and so bouncy when I grind on it. No man could resist. Also, we have hours before the packages get delivered by Amazon, so yeah."
Raven just rolled her eyes—to which Brandon was surprised he could even see, given they were completely yellow. "Yeah, I can see that, darling—you couldn't stop grinding on me the whole night. Though I'm to blame for that after wearing what I'm wearing."
When Brandon heard that, he blushed and apologized. But Raven stopped him. "You don't need to apologize, darling—I'm here for you. After all, you're my Destiny," she said with that Cheshire smile.
To Brandon, that felt more like a confession of love than anything he'd ever gotten from anyone. So, he turned her around—surprising her with the sudden flip—and claimed those luscious lips in a loving, tender kiss. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Raven. I need you to know that. I'm happy you'll be my first—and continue to be it until the end of time."
As Raven heard that, she looked at him with her yellow eyes, giving Brandon a beautiful smile, then kissed him passionately. "When you mean your first...?"
"Yeah," Brandon said. "I'm taking you here and now."
Raven looked at him, then pushed him onto his back as she straddled him. "Well then, darling, we have hours for some good rodeoing. I wonder if this bull can take me... mmm?"
Brandon stared, flabbergasted at what she'd just said—his hands gripping her thighs, firm and smooth like blue marble wrapped in silk, his exposed dick still nestled between her butt cheeks. Her slutty white lingerie nightgown came into full view, the sheer mesh clinging to her curves, floral lace framing her breasts like forbidden invitations, emphasizing her blue skin with ethereal contrast. Brandon couldn't get enough of her; he still couldn't believe how sexy the real-life Raven Darkhölme looked—sinful, slutty, her body screaming "fuck me until you drop." Then he remembered Anna Marie and her Mississippi dump truck, how her classic X-Men outfit emphasized it like there was no tomorrow—the green bodysuit stretching taut over plump cheeks. Then Teresia Karisik, her plump ass in full view in that X-Treme leather skintight outfit, the black material molding to every dimple and curve. Brandon thought to himself that if he ever met the creators of these Marvel women, he'd gladly bow down in thanks.
Raven looked at him. "Already thinking of my other forms, darling?"
Brandon snapped from his thoughts, seeing her amused smile—which looked like it said "you dare?" He instantly apologized. "Sorry, Rav—I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you."
Raven looked amused at her question being deflected, but she didn't care—because she loved him and was created for him, so it didn't matter. But that didn't mean she wouldn't teach him a very tight, hot, and juicy lesson. "Mmm, I see," she responded as she straddled him, then bent down close. "Now, darling, are you ready to get fucked by little old me?" she said in a very cute, sexy way—her voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down his spine.
Brandon was losing his mind with her straddling him, asking in such a sexy and cute way—it turned him on beyond belief. So, he smiled, raised both arms, and showed Raven his hands. She gave him a questioning look, only for Brandon to bring them down—slapping her ass cheeks so hard it sounded like someone twirled a towel and cracked it: a sharp *crack-crack* that echoed in the room, her blue flesh rippling from the impact, red handprints blooming on sapphire skin.
Raven screamed from the sting—a high, surprised "Ahh!"—arching her back backward as her hands landed on Brandon's legs. To Brandon, laying on his back, the view was gorgeous: her shapely breasts jiggling wildly from the scream, nipples straining against the sheer white lace, blue peaks begging for attention. He wore a triumphant smile, like he'd won something—which he had.
As Raven calmed, she flashed an amused smile that promised punishment, making Brandon's grin fade. *Oh shit.* Then she said, "Just so you know, darling—I'm a virgin."
When Brandon heard that, he was surprised, then understood: this wasn't the original Mystique; this was a husk with her abilities, able to imitate every person she shapeshifted into. Then he saw something that scared the shit out of him: Raven pinning his hands to the sides of his head, raising her ass up like she was about to drop on a rodeo bull. "Don't worry, darling—I can remove the pain of my hymen breaking. But you? Ah, you're going to feel tightness so tight you'll beg me to stop and give you moments to catch your breath." She laughed maniacally, an evil smile plastered on her face—yellow eyes gleaming with wicked delight, red hair framing her like a halo of fire.
"But boo-hoo, that's not going to happen, hon," she whispered, her head near his ear—hot breath tickling his sensitive skin, making him shake from the sensation and his weakness to her voice so close.
He looked at her with a questioning look on how she knew he was sensitive there—that's when he realized he was right: she knew everything about him. "Wait, Raven—" he started, cut off as Raven dropped down on his dick.
Her body was a masterpiece of sinful perfection: blue skin smooth as polished sapphire, glistening with a faint sheen of arousal; her breasts full and heaving under the white lace, nipples dark blue peaks tenting the fabric; hips flaring wide into thick, powerful thighs that clenched around him; and that ass—plump, heart-shaped cheeks quivering as she descended. The penetration was electric: her virgin pussy enveloping him like a vice of molten silk—impossibly tight, the walls rippling and contracting around his eight inches, every ridge and vein of his dick dragging against her slick, untouched heat. For a man's first fucking, it was overwhelming—a rush of raw ecstasy, the warmth and pressure building like fire in his core, nerves firing in waves that made his toes curl and breath hitch, the taboo thrill of claiming her mixing with the primal urge to thrust deeper.
Raven's face twisted into a maniacally evil smile as she dropped—yellow eyes rolling back slightly in bliss, lips parted in a feral grin that screamed dominance and delight, her tongue flicking out as if tasting victory. The full sex scene unfolded like a fever dream: her pussy stretching around him with a wet *schlick*, the initial resistance of her hymen giving way in a painless pop (thanks to her powers), but the tightness—oh god, the tightness—was unrelenting, like being squeezed by a velvet fist, her inner muscles pulsing greedily, milking him from base to tip.
Brandon couldn't believe he just came that fast—spurting ropes of hot cum deep inside her almost instantly, his balls tightening as pleasure exploded through him. *I mean, you can't blame him—it was his first time, and the way Raven just dropped like that was just crazy. The fucking tightness was out of this world.* As he mid-orgasmed, he forced himself to look at Raven—and what he saw turned him on again: she had an ahegao face, eyes crossed in ecstasy with her typical Mystique smile, tongue lolling out, saliva dripping in glistening strings down her chin.
He tried to surge up, grabbing her ass to start ramming into her—but he couldn't; Raven was using her full strength to lock him in place. "No, no, no, darling—this is my moment, remember?" Then he felt his dick get clenched, the tightness intensifying like her walls were coiling tighter. She moved his hands to her chest, palms down, arms crossed—then pulled her hips and ass into the air.
Brandon instantly started pleading: "No-no-no, wait—WAIT!" as Raven dropped again and again, over and over—her ass slamming down with punishing force, the bed creaking *groan-creak-groan* from the strength she poured through her body. But god damn, the pleasure assaulted him like crazy: each drop sending shockwaves up his spine, her pussy gripping him like a living vice, slick juices coating his shaft in messy squelches. Hearing Raven moaning like crazy—throaty "Ahh... yes... take it!"—turned him on more than he could believe, especially seeing the ripples through her flesh, her breasts bouncing side to side or forward and back with each furious fuck.
Then Brandon thought: *NO—he told her.* "Raven, make your ass bigger, babe—I want to hear that ass clapping."
As Raven heard him, she did just that: her ass swelled big—like, *big*—to the point that if he tried to hold them, they'd spill out of his hands, cheeks ballooning into plush, jiggling orbs of blue perfection, the thong snapping aside from the expansion. Then came the clapping sound: a rhythmic *clap-clap-clap* like thunderous applause, each bounce sending waves through her flesh, the blue skin quivering hypnotically.
He looked at her B-cup breasts, knowing what he wanted next. "Raven," he said slowly, "give me my double D's."
That's what Raven did: her breasts swelled, straining the lingerie nightgown—the lace stretching taut over burgeoning blue mounds, nipples poking like diamonds. Then he felt no pressure from Raven holding him; he looked at his chest, then at her—she had a sultry smile like she was saying "take me if you dare."
Which he did. He pushed himself up from laying on his back, placed both hands on her big, juicy, soft ass—squeezing the plush flesh that overflowed his grip like warm dough—and attacked her double D's like they owed him money. He started sucking them ravenously: latching onto a nipple with wet *sucks* and *pops*, tongue swirling the hardened peak while his teeth grazed, her blue skin tasting like salted silk. His hands kneaded her cheeks, raising his right to slam down—*smack!*—music from her moans and screams, a high "Oh fuck!" echoing as red welts bloomed on blue.
For 30 minutes, he rammed into her pussy: vividly, sensually, smutty as hell—his hips pistoning like a machine, dick plunging deep into her sopping heat with lewd *schlicks* and *squelches*, her walls fluttering around him in rhythmic squeezes. He groped her breasts from behind as she straddled reverse, thumbs circling nipples while pounding, her moans a symphony of "Harder... daddy... yes!" Sweat slicked their bodies, blue skin glistening under the morning light filtering in, his balls slapping her clit with wet *thwaps*. The air filled with the musky scent of sex, her juices dripping down his thighs in sticky trails.
After minutes of fucking, Brandon looked at Raven—who had a look of intoxicated pleasure, eyes glazed, mouth slack in bliss—so he kissed her sloppily, tongues tangling in messy *slurps*, then turned her around for his favorite position: doggystyle. And man, when he did, the biggest, juiciest, softest ass he'd ever touched—well, the only ass he'd touched—greeted him: twin blue globes, heart-shaped and massive, dimpled at the base where they met her thighs.
He grabbed them, molded them like clay—fingers sinking deep into the plush, yielding flesh that sprang back with a jiggle; squeezed until his knuckles whitened, the cheeks compressing like memory foam before bouncing free; spanked them to oblivion—*crack-smack-crack*—watching red handprints fade into blue, the sting drawing out her yelps, the flesh rippling like waves on an ocean. He spread them wide, exposing her winking butthole and dripping pussy, then buried his face for a taste—tongue delving into her folds with sloppy *laps*, sucking her clit until she quivered.
After minutes of playing Play-Doh with her behind—kneading, slapping, even biting the soft undersides until she whimpered—he started aiming his eight-inch dick back into her pussy. Raven looked back, shaking her ass—it clapped on its own: a hypnotic *clap-clap-clap* as the massive cheeks collided, blue flesh wobbling in rhythmic waves, the motion sending tremors up her thighs. "Daddy," she purred, "my pussy needs you—it's so lonely," as she kept shaking her booty, the cheeks smacking together like thunderous applause.
Seeing Mystique herself doing that, Brandon thought: *Yeah, definitely never going to see that in the comics.* He rammed his dick into her pussy—plunging deep with a wet *schlick*, her walls yielding in a rush of heat. Raven howled like crazy—a primal "Aaaah!"—shaking uncontrollably from orgasming, juices squirting in hot spurts around his shaft.
Brandon smiled victoriously and started pumping in and out: vividly, his hips slamming forward with forceful *thuds*, dick spearing her depths, the slick friction building to a burn of ecstasy—each thrust stretching her tight channel, her blue pussy lips gripping him like a glove, juices foaming at the base. He pulled her short red hair like reins, yanking her head back to expose her neck, biting down while dirty-talking: "Take this dick, you blue slut—feel me wrecking your tight little hole." Her blue skin flushed darker with arousal, sweat beading like diamonds on sapphire, references to her comic agility making her arch like a cat in heat.
They continued like this because doggystyle was his favorite: watching her ass ripple with each pound—waves cascading through plush blue flesh; spanking it to oblivion—*smack after smack*, cheeks reddening under his palm; holding her hips for leverage, fingers digging into soft blue curves; pulling her hair to arch her back; reaching around to maul her breasts, pinching nipples until she screamed. After maybe minutes or hours—he really didn't know—he told Raven he was about to cum for the last time, after cumming into her about fifteen times already, his seed spilling out in creamy rivulets down her thighs.
Raven didn't answer; she was so out of it, her mind shattered from pleasure—the only response loud moaning that sounded like she was losing her voice, raw and hoarse from the assault. Which you couldn't blame him for—after all, this was Mystique, the blue enchantress, sexy as hell, a fucking Marvel comic book heroine in real life. So yeah, anyone in his shoes would gladly pump her like crazy.
For the last surge, he placed his right hand around her neck—squeezing just enough for control—and his left on her chest, holding her right double-D breast, kneading the heavy orb. He picked her up slowly, balancing so he didn't fall from the mattress, standing tall. Then, with his last bit of strength, he continued ramming her from behind—harder and harder, her ass *clapping* against his hips, pussy clenching in spasms—until she howled like crazy, a guttural "Fuuuuck!"
For three whole minutes, he kept at it, then came with a grunt like a starving bear—ropes of thick cum flooding her depths. He rammed all the way in, to the point where only his balls couldn't follow, her walls milking him dry. Raven screamed "Ahhhhhhhhhhh!" curling her toes so loudly Brandon thought someone might call the cops. He covered her mouth with his right hand (from her neck) and grabbed her short red hair with his left, pulling for balance as he kept pumping cum into her.
Raven stopped screaming and lost consciousness—to which Brandon smiled victoriously again, because every man wants to fuck their wife or girlfriend to unconsciousness. Then he did something he'd always wanted from watching doggystyle porn: he let go of her while pushing his chest forward (after she leaned on him), making her upper body fly forward—but caught her hips, leaving her dangling like a ragdoll, hair hanging down, arms limp on the mattress covers.
Brandon breathed hard from all that ramming and pumping, leaning his head on his right shoulder to wipe sweat. He started doing circles with his hips—his dick still buried in her pussy—for a couple minutes, stirring his cum inside her with lazy *schlicks*. Then he humped her slowly to release any more from his balls—gentle *thuds* until spent. After that, he let Raven down completely on the bed—of course, with her ass pointing upwards so he could see his work.
And let's just say, Brandon thought it looked beautiful: her pussy a swollen, glistening blue flower, lips puffy and parted, cum leaking out like a river—thick, white streams oozing in slow, viscous trails down her inner thighs, pooling on the sheets in creamy puddles, the scent musky and heady, her hole twitching as more bubbled forth.
His dick went limp as he backed away, laying down with his back to the bed frame. He just sat there, staring at Raven's big blue ass of perfection 👌, and thought: *I can't fucking wait to take Emma for a ride, man.*