Shades of Gray, I
by Anusia

Arms crossed above her head against the glass panes, she stared through the sheer coverings, out the window to the grounds beneath. Though the day had been a bright one, late afternoon shadows spread slowly now, encompassing everything in their path with shades of gray as the sun crept ever lower in the sky. Sunset was Jean's favorite time of day. It was the way the world looked; the sun a flaming ball of red, the heavens deeply colored with shades unimaginable, and shadows emerging timidly from their daytime hideouts. A good sunset was breathtaking in its beauty.

She closed her eyes and smiled as she leaned her head back, her long red hair tickling her lower back just above her full, heart-shaped ass. There was something arousing about enjoying the last bit of warmth radiating from the sun, her body absorbing the heat captured by the glass. The thin material of her deep blue camisole would do little to protect against the coming chill of night, but for now, she was comfortable and content.

Jean opened her eyes and lazily stretched before pressing her forehead to window. She loved to watch from inside as the colors bled away from the world outside. It was almost like magic. Being a mutant, she felt inclined to believe in magic a little. Sure, science had much – well, everything, truth be told – to do with the genes they carried, but Jean was a child at heart. It made her feel a little less clinical, and a little more special, to believe that something of what she was could be attributed to the unknown. The true unknown. The thought of something otherworldly inside of her made her shiver with longing.

And speaking of longing, she'd not seen Logan in several days. She usually managed to break away from covert mutant business long enough to visit the teen center, where she helped troubled youths, at least twice a week. But lately, Professor Xavier had been keeping her so busy she'd barely had time to get out of the house. She may not have traveled down the alley physically, but every time she closed her eyes she was back there. She imagined Logan waiting for her every night. She longed for his touch and dreamed of their bodies pressed together. The memory was thick. As thick as the man who'd ravaged her in the alley's brick cubbyhole. She let out a shaky breath and watched the nearby trees sway in the evening breeze. Jean swayed with them, her body silken and graceful, her mind filled with undulations of a more erotic nature with a primitive man whose very essence screamed sex.

She froze, inhaling sharply as she caught a glimpse of movement at the edge of the woods. She narrowed her eyes and clutched at the gauzy drapes. Someone was out there, hidden in the dark. Jean could feel eyes watching her. And she knew, with certainty, whose mind she would encounter should she cast her thoughts in that direction. Wolverine. In the time it took her to blink, he was gone.

Jean pressed her body against the now chilly glass. Her nipples rose to hardened points as she rubbed them back and forth across the cold, slick surface, and she moaned softly, running her hands lightly through her hair before slowly moving them over her toned figure. Where had he gone? How long had he been watching? Had he seen her earlier when she'd come dripping wet and naked from the shower? Had he seen her in front of the window, touching herself? Did he still want her? Would she ever feel his hardness inside of her again, pumping her, filling her, savaging her?

As if in answer, she turned, and there he was, standing in the open doorway. The pent up energy he exuded sent shivers through her body. She couldn't move. She pressed back against the sheer curtains and tried to remember to breathe.

"Hi, Jeanie. Miss me?" he smirked.