Autumn Breath

by Ghost In a Closet

Jean's arms swam up through her shirt's sleeves. After a bit of whimsical struggle, her graceful head came out the top. Two or three scarlet strands of shower-wet hair invaded her eyes, but she drew them away with the flick of her wrist.

The young woman padded her away across the room. Her shadows blended into the soft carpet. The shades had been drawn. Red shades blocking an orange bright afternoon. An October afternoon. An Autumn sunset.

The air was changing. Jean could feel it, even on her side of the closed window. She lifted her hand and grazed it along the hanging red fabric; parting an amber arch for the weary day to peer in and blink at her. In through her nose went the scent of falling leaves, and out her parting lips went the memories of the present.

The Institute was finally seeing its day. Just two nights ago, Kurt Wagner had been inducted into the X-Men. Todd Tolensky came, saw, and fled. Explosions gave off heat and were extinguished just as quickly. Bayeville suddenly seemed like new grounds for adventure and discovery; as well as a crucible of unwanted pressure.

"We must be on the lookout from now on," Xavier tells us as we sit at the breakfast table.

Jean sighed and leaned her head forward against the window pane. The glass was cold...even colder to her shower-fresh skin.

He looks at Scott first, and then at me. "There is a force out there equal to ours, but it need not be stronger. It desires to seize the hearts of innocent mutants out there and turn them towards frustration and anger."

"What do you want us to do, Professor?" Scott asks. He's sitting so close to me. He knows as well as I do that we're a team....and that the Professor trusts us.

Kurt's a stranger still. He keeps his head bowed.

The Professor also glances down at the table and folds his hands together. "Be prepared to make friends.....and also be prepared to make enemies." He looked up, the father inside him glowed through his eyes. "But never lose hope, that those enemies may one day turn into friends."

Jean rose her face and looked straight through the window. Her eyes focused in, and she saw her reflection looking back. Fog against the glass in the shape of her forehead hovered above her temple like a halo.

Can this really be me?

Jean ran her free hand against the shape of her chin. Spotless.....the idol of school hallways.

A soldier? In disguise?

Her lips closed. Her breathing stopped for a second.

Among the X-Men?

"What's on your mind, Jean?" Scott asks.

We're sitting at the picnic table. In the background, students are yelling and laughing. It's lunchtime. The air is cold. I have a sweater across my lap.

"I can't believe that it's all beginning," I say. My eyes dance around the graveyard of a lunch tray. Opened milk cartons and potato chip bags have released the dead. "This is what I've prepared for...and yet I can't help but feel......"

"Feel what, Jean?" Scott leans forward. There's compassion behind his shades. Compassion that can't be seen or touched but can only be heard.

"......fear, Scott," I say with a breath. "I'm afraid. Are we ready for this yet? I mean, the Professor has taught us well and all......but..."

Scott knows me. He smiles at me. He places his hand on my shoulder and stops my world from spinning.

"Jean, don't worry," he says so softly he's practically singing. "As long as we're together, nothing can stand in our way. And when you have doubts, I'll be here for you."

I look at him. Something feels too tranquil to allow a smile.

"We've been together a long time, Jean," he says. There's a glint in his shades and teeth. I almost forget the sun exists. "You know I'll never let you down if worse comes to worse."

There's a cold breeze. Autumn is treading over our skin. The sleeves of the sweater swing and bat against my leg.

"Thank you, Scott," I smile, honestly. His hand leaves my shoulder and Autumn hides. "You're too good to me."

Jean's hand left her chin. It joined the other set of fingers to set the crimson drapes further aside. The angle of light truly surprised her. The young lady's entire reflection was there; howbeit translucent and eerie....in a familiar way.

It was a sleepy afternoon, and having stepped out of a warm shower, Jean felt even sleepier. So she had slipped on a drowsy white t-shirt, which drooped loosely around her thighs. She had also slipped on a pair of white cotton panties; nothing more. The narcoleptic in her glowed brightly in the reflection. Her damp hair hung, uncombed-unbrushed, like a veil of scarlet that hugged the left side of her neck. The unkemptness of it all strangely soothed the prim and proper Jean, so that she breathed evenly and without anxiety. And with each breath, her bare breasts raised the t-shirt so that the hem gave her panties a peak at the autumnal world outside.

Jean's sensitive form vanished, and the fluttering of shed leaves in the wind drew her focus to the other side of the glass. Everything was free-falling under the hands of the coming winter. Everything was fragile. Everything was sensitive.

I hear his thoughts before his footsteps. I hear his footsteps before his voice. I hear his voice before my heart.

"Hey Jean, I'm starving. How about you? Ready for lunch?"

I look over from where I'm shuffling possessions in and out of my locker. Students are filing in, around, and behind us. The hall is filled with bodies and voices.

"Just give me a second," I said. "I just came back from P.E. Gotta get my things together." I reach into my back and work to get my bracelet on.

He leans on the locker next to me. "Well, I hope you have better luck than me. I forgot my lunch today."

"Awww," I coo, smiling at him. "Why don't you spend time in the media center, then?"

"Nah, I'd rather take the time to talk to you."

Just then, I drop my bracelet. "Oops! Jeez! I'm such a klutz!" I need to pick it up, but everyone's here. Everyone's filing around. All the voices, all the bodies. And Scott......

"Don't worry," he smiles a golden smile. "I'll get it for you."

He bends and kneels down and searches the floor a bit with his hand. His ruby shades are hindering him, I just know it! Finally he finds it and smiles up at me before standing and dropping it into my hand.

"Found it."

"Thanks," I say.

And we go to lunch.

Something made Jean's throat swallow. Sooner than she could catch up with them, her hands reached through the red drapes and grasped two handles. Suddenly, the windows were open. Like raiders, the fingers of Autumn swam into the room. They danced around Jean's bare legs, only to bounce off and roll across the floor; muffled.

Jean hung off the handles by two weak arms. She wasn't trying to, but she shut herself inside a fragrant cage. Her eyes grew thin and her nose took in the dust of leaves and the sighing of the cold air. Needles and pine. Seeds and bark

I'm eight years old.

I'm skipping down the trail.

I'm giggling as my dress dances around my running knees. Mommy made this for me. It's so pretty. Blue blouse and blue skirt. White sleeves and white hem.

I'm running because I'm too fast for them. I'm running because it's their job to find me. They want to find me because they love me.

The path is littered with pine needles and a virgin carpet of leaves. It crinkles under my Mary Janes. The sun is warm, but is merely a knife through the ceiling of chilliness. I'm immune because I'm a princess. I laugh my royalty out in girl glory.

And the path widens. It's moist beneath the leaves. That's when I see the snake.

A small body with a large head with a blinking tongue.

I skid to a stop. Leather tears through earth. I am shrieking.

The snake flies away. My arms rise up inside my blouse and the leaves leap up in the black rope's exit.

I gasp, not because I'm scared. Because everything is suddenly cold and real.

The leaves are rising, but there is no wind.

My arms are in the air. They sting in the chilliness.

The leaves are rising, but there is no wind.

A smile crosses my face.

Jean exhaled. Her lips were warmed from her own breath. The memory died, but its residue remained.

I'm giggling and spinning around. The autumn mosaic spins around me. Wet with dew.

I can make the leaves rise.

Jean let go of the handles. She hugged herself amidst the new atmosphere of cold.

Autumn brought her memories. The memories sang with her present. Because then, like in her childhood, things were changing. Things were taking on a presence both innocent and unsettling. Things like....

"Jean? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," I step into the foyer and freeze upon what I see on the sofa. "Kurt? Are you crying?"

The blue-furred boy rubs his wrist across his eyes. "I'm...sorry....."

"Don't be sorry, Kurt," I sit down beside him, quietly leaning forward. "Kurt, what's wrong? You can tell me."

"I-I-I....," the young man hiccups, then looks up at me with glistening eyes of silver. "I've only been here for t-two days....I already miss home......"

"Awww," I smile reassuringly. "But Kurt, don't you see? This place can be home for you too! And us...we're more than happy to be your family..."

He heaves and sniffs. "Mein family...then that makes you my sister?"

I giggle and smile, "Yes...and a friend for when you're in need."

"Can I name one, f-fraulein?"

"Certainly."

"C-Can you h-hold me?" he looks at me helpless, deflated.

I smile, touched. "Why, yes, Kurt. I can do that."

He lets out a little whimper, lowers his eyes and simply leans into me. I wrap an arm around his shoulder and absorb his shakes and shudders.

"Shh....it's okay, Kurt," I say gently. And soon, the boy is silent.

Jean closed her eyes and tilted her head down. The wind is freezing her damp hair to her skin. She became aware of her breasts pressing out against the fabric of her t-shirt while goosebumps riveted across her tummy. The touch of cold turned to torment. And yet she braved it.

Because standing in the hallway is Scott. I look over Kurt's head and stare at him. He smiles at me. But the smile isn't pride. It isn't smugness. I can't tell exactly. What is it?

A gust of fall trickled in and took a swan dive. It swam under Jean's legs and surfaced with a splash against her thighs. A chill swam up her spine and vibrated her upper body so that it rose with a hushed gasp. The hem of her t-shirt flickered up and down. The sunlight momentarily danced across the border between her goosebumps and underwear.

Scott smiles at me. As Kurt sobs himself to silence, the boy in shades drifts away. His smile is the last to glow. What does it mean?

Another touch of autumn. The breezy waves rolled up her center and crashed against her navel before receding. Jean bit her lip, her eyes were tight.

I can't tell. What does it mean? What does it mean?

Jean had become a statue. A statue with a layering of flesh and thin clothing wrapped about her like a flag. She flapped in the breeze. And it felt so awkward that it was so right. It wasn't until ice formed in the center of her world that Jean was woken with a gasp. She brought a shaking hand down to her crotch and found...to little surprise...a touch of dampness.

It was then that a redness fit to match her porcelain hair spread across her cheeks. She realized the nudity of the world, and it drew her away from the curtains by invisible strings. And yet, she kept the windows open. She gave the breeze an endless passage. She turned the autumn-filled room to stone.

Jean slithered onto bed and rested her back against the headboard. Her arms hugged herself and she curled her knees up. It was hard to tell just what was icier, the window or the bed sheets beneath her.

But did it matter? Did it have meaning?

What does it mean? I can't tell....

Jean's eyes closed. She took a breath and an inexplicable moan erupted.

I am safe here. I am in control here. I'm raising the leaves. There is no wind. I'm raising the leaves on my own. I am in control. And I have nothing......nothing to be ashamed of.

The breeze was growing into distant strands. The mattress was slowly sinking around her. The afternoon amber squinted to look for her amidst the shadows.

I'm dancing all around the clearing. I'm giggling in my blue and white dress. I'm lifting my hands from beneath my blouse and the leaves fly upwards. There is no wind. I am raising the leaves.

Another moan. This time sore and rising in her throat.

Jean's eyes creaked open. They were moist along the lids, though not as icy as elsewhere.

The room looked so barren, so lonely. She only contributed to the shadows. If only it could all be filled.....if only it could all be filled....

"What's on your mind, Jean?" Scott asks.

I look over to Scott on the lunchtable outside. My hands are wringing over the sweater spread across my lap. People are smiling and chattering in the background.

"I c-can't believe that it's all b-beginning," I stutter. "This is what I've prepared for...and yet I-I can't help but f-feel......"

"Feel what, Jean?" Scott's shades become my eyesight. Impenetrable plastic. Ruby walls.

"......f-fear, Scott," I shake. My hands rest in my lap....hard in my lap. "I'm afraid. Are we ready for this yet? I mean, the Professor has taught us well and all......but..."

Scott wants me happy. Scott wants me at peace. Scott wants....Scott wants...

"Jean, don't worry," he smiles and rests a hand on my shoulder. The world stumbles as two of his fingers accidentally touch my bra-strap through the shirt. With a polite twitch, he retracts his fingers and focuses on my face. "As long as we're together, nothing can stand in our way. And when you have doubts, I'll be here for you."

I'm tempted to break out with a smile. But this scene is too innocent, too tranquil. I don't dare do anything but stare back at him.

He's so innocent. He touches me and yet doesn't touch me. I'm like melted gold to his fingers. He doesn't want to spoil me.

"We've been together a long time, Jean," he says. As Scott speaks I'm laying out the ice. The arms of the sweater start stroking my knees. The world is cold and trying to fluster me. "You know I'll never let you down if worse comes to worse."

"Thank you, Scott," I manage. I am shaking. My nervous hands plow into the sweater. So plush and warm. Calling to the core. "You're too good to me."

The sleeves of the sweater feel smoother now. Like pearls. Like skin.

Jean's hands stroked her bare knees, rising like twin peaks before her. She relaxed her eyes closed as her fingers danced minnow races up her thighs, to the top of her knees, a pause, and back down again...ever so slowly. There was a second lap to the races. Then a third. A fourth.

On the last stretch, her fingers trailed past the finishing line, leapt over the hem of her t-shirt, and hover just above herself for a breathless second. Jean swallows, and her palms gently touched down. They wrapped about one breast each, just resting there...serene...chasing out the cold with an ever, ever-so-loving warmth. A twist of a thumb, and she felt her two tips reaching out for touch from beneath the fabric. Answering her call.

A helpless breath squeaked out of her as she squeezed ever so gently.

You are so innocent Scott. Why does this scare you?

She gently released her fingers' pressure by a percent and rotated her hands. She uttered another gasp.

Why do little things make you nervous? Keep you back?

She gently released her hold, pivoted her palms, and cupped her breasts from beneath...all with constraints of her shirt.

Why do you smile, Scott? It's something I must unlock. What is it? What is it?

Gracefully, like a silent dancer, her hands moved as one. They stroked down her loose shirt and met bare thighs. They ran back up to the mountains of her knees and...slowly...moved the peaks down. Jean now lay with her lower half flat...a feminine valley surrendered into the bed sheets.

One hand dripped down and swam a zig zag into the seams of her panties.

"Hey Jean, I'm starving. How about you? Ready for lunch?"

I look over from where I'm stuck in my locker. My wings are clipped. Around and between me and Scott's smile is a current of students. They're blurs of a world I'm leaving behind.

"Just give me a second," I whisper. There's a tear flowing down my cheek. I'm stuck in this locker. A helpless animal. "I just came back from P.E. Gotta get my things together." I reach into my backpack and fumble for my bracelet. It's coated with wetness.

Scott leans next to me and hums. "Well, I hope you have better luck than me. I forgot my lunch today."

"Awww," I heave, staring at him. "Why don't you spend time in the media center, then?"

"Nah, I'd rather take the time to talk to you."

There is a jolt. My finger slips. The bracelet falls to the floor without as much as a pindrop.

"Oops! Jeez! I'm such a klutz!" I need to pick it up, but I'm without wings. My feathers are falling off my legs and I dare not bend over.

"Don't worry. I'll get it for you," Scott smiles a liquid smile. Another jolt. He's kneeling before me. He's bowing before me, his thick auburn hair hiding his face from my eyesight. He's blinding himself for me.

For he knows that there is no wind. He sees the leaves fly by themselves. He doesn't know that I'm raising them. I'm dancing around like there isn't a care in the world. In my blue dress and blue blouse. Raising leaves. Raising autumn. And I'm lowering him.

"Found it." He smiles.

Jean let out a soft cry and arched her waist up. With an exhale she drops herself to the bed. Her damp red hair is leaking ice over her forehead.

Her finger had kissed its way under her panties. It made love to her there in the shadow of her intimacy. The altar had risen, and she lovingly stroked the pearl upon it slowly yet firmly.

The seriousness of her own attention had surprised Jean. It was sudden, impulsive...and yet right somehow.

You know the right things to say and the right times to say it. And you smile...what is it, Scott?

Her second hand snaked down and clasped the crotch of her panties.

Are you too shy to tell me?

She gently pulled the cloth out of the way. Autumn light glistened off of her emotions.

Are you worried about your innocence?

She snaked her finger down till it poised itself at her folds.

Or your innocence?

A breath....a second...and she pounced. Her finger silently slid in. Her throat shook out a hum. The cold breeze struck an ever-expanding shield between her legs and failed to go further.

I am in control. I make the leaves rise.

She dipped her finger out. It was coated like silver. Like a wet bracelet.

I'm running through the clearing. I'm giggling because the day never ends. The Fall never ends.

She slid it back in. A moan. It came out, and quivered. She joined a second finger to it. A couple. Full.

Then why am I so flustered? What does it mean? The smile? What....

They slipped in together. Jean moaned and rose her hips. Her toes tightened and wrinkled the bed sheets just beneath her. They came out for breath, then dove once more. She forced herself down. A pant escaped her lips. Her hair tumbled over her left temple. The ice was creeping down to her chin.

Oh god....what does it mean......what does it mean?

The breeze swam around her, frustrated. Jean was in her own sphere. Her own globe. And it was spinning. Slowly, but spinning nevertheless. She finally relaxed herself and took a deep breath, panting. She found her other hand reaching up under her shirt and trailing finger kisses around a starved nipple. Her hand proceeded into the silence, a mind of its own. A mind of its own that Jean granted. Her eyes traced the ceiling. Between the storm, the calm brought forth pause and melancholy.

"Jean? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," I walk into the darkness. On the sofa is a sobbing soul. "Kurt? Are you crying?"

Kurt shakes. He too is clipped of wings. "I'm...sorry....."

"Don't be sorry, Kurt," I sit down beside him in a boat on a sea of tears. "Kurt, what's wrong? You can tell me."

"I-I-I....," the young man falls apart, piece by piece. All that's left is his eyes. "I've only been here for t-two days....I already miss home......"

"Awww," I embrace his soul. "But Kurt, don't you see? This place can be home for you too! And us...we're more than happy to be your family..."

His spirit comes and goes in flashes. "Mein family...then that makes you my sister?"

"Yes...and a friend for when you're in need."

"Can I name one, f-fraulein?"

"Certainly."

"C-Can you h-hold me?" he appears in a cloud, full of rain.

I'm burning inside out. "Why, yes, Kurt. I can do that."

I hold him, cradle him. He sobs as I lay him in bed and tuck him under the covers. I kneel beside the mattress and shed a tear.

Do you not understand me, Kurt? Do I look spoiled to children such as you? Do you want to know something? I can make the leaves rise. I can see the endless day, and touch it with girl hands.

But then I look over his slumbering form, and in the hallway is Scott. He's smiling at me. He's tearing at my soul. And I don't know why. Kurt and Scott fly through me. And I don't know why.

And Jean looked at the room. It was still dark. Still lonely. Bathing her in the corners of neglected light. So lonely. It needed to be filled.....it needed to be filled....

Scott's smile glowed one last glint as he faded down the hallway.

A sharp sigh ripped through Jean's lungs. Like a trigger, she reached her hands down and grabbed a hold of her panties' waistband. Slowly, lazily, she swept it down her thighs and off her feet. It tumbled to a damp stop on the edge of the mattress, where it blended with the bed sheets.

For a split second, the shield fell and the breeze harassed Jean. She braved the cold of Autumn long enough to grab the hem of her t-shirt and whisk it over her head. It dangled on a bedpost and remained there like a soft-spoken ghost.

The young lady was naked, complete in her intimacy. A key to open herself. Her breasts rose and fell as she lay flat, breathing. A swallow, and she knew it was time to complete it.

Jean raised her hand....her dry hand up to her temple and squinted her eyes. Her powers went to work, and the first to respond to her commands was her spectral sense. Invisible eyes got up on all fours, crawled over her bed's footboard, dropped to the carpet, and scampered over to the bottom drawer of her dresser. In the darkness she felt the handle to the drawer and opened it. Gracefully, she swam through the layers of folded socks, cotton panties, and silken delicates. In the darkest corner was her buried treasure; pale and still. With invisible fingers, she picked it up, and it floated up and across the room to greet her. Even with her eyes closed, she watched it hover slowly...slowly...and drop into her waiting palm.

Firm and plush. Her fingers closed around it. As expected, only her middle finger made contact with her thumb.

She opened her eyes and there it was. The color of the moon. Just as silent. Just as emotionless.

Just as familiar.

Autumn swept under her nose one last time before the shield of warmth came back. With a deep breath, having only the slightest hint of a whimper, Jean lowered her lengthy companion to her. There was a cricket-pace to her heart; fighting the restraints of her rib cage. Suddenly, this day too seemed endless.

"What's on your mind, Jean?" Scott looks at me, waiting.

I'm shivering, staring back. Lunching people in the background whisper and gasp. My hands wring their way to my lap, but the sweater's gone. I'm wearing a skirt. My legs are spread, and the Autumn breeze comes riding in with icicle footsteps.

"I.....I-I...c-can't believe th-that it's all b-beginning," I shiver. I look straight into his soul. My eyes are pools. "This...This is what I've p-prepared for...........and yet.......and y-yet.......I-I can't help but f-feel......"

"Feel what, Jean?" Scott scoots closer. His pant leg brushes against my skirt, sending my shivers up a scale. His hand hovers over my every temple. But he dares not touch. His breath is honey.

"......f-fear, Scott," I sh-shake. He's so pure he scares me. "I'm afraid. Are we ready for this yet? I mean..."

"Jean, don't worry," he smiles and his hand comes down. It's on my shoulder. It's burning the Autumn away. A flaming grin. Unreachable eyes. "As long as we're together..." he's drifting closer. He's drifting closer! The wind has found my underwear missing. It's resting at my gates, its tip hard and patient. The color of the moon. ".... nothing can stand in our way." Scott drifts into me. He becomes me. "And when you have doubts, I'll be here for you."

Jean shook on top the sheets. It looked like a sob.

"Thank you, Scott..."

Autumn was glistening with silver. Like a smooth bracelet. It twitched just at her folds.

"You're too good to me."

It plunged in.
Jean yelped.

She practically leapt straight up.

Back down, she swung her free hand up to her face and bit onto her finger. Her eyes clenched shut with the strain of ecstasy. She pulled it out, and swung it back in, only to repeat. Each time she did her voice moaned through teeth and finger.

It plunged in.

Her hip rose.

It swam out, recoiled, and shot back.

It arched upward, grazing its length against her pearl. An inch for every second. A repeat for every breath. A breath for every jolt of shameless joy. Every entrance an arch. Every recoil a shock. Her hip rose and fell. Her feet twitched and cringed. The bed sheets formed a crater around the silent cyclone of her figure. Until she released her teeth's hold on her finger and let out a long, satisfying verbal exhale.

She plunged it in sharply and a jolt shot straight up her center of gravity, making her gasp. Her eyes popped open and saw through a current of sweat that her free hand had met her breast and was tending to it like a fleshy garden. Yet the other one screamed in agony. The next step had come.

I am in control of myself.

Jean held her breath, released her grip on the glistening toy, and brought her free hand to her forehead. Closing her eyes, she became perfectly still.

I can raise the leaves...

The shameless joy was memorized. The joy was emulated. Jean's invisible hands flew forth from her mutant being and grasped a hold of her companion. Slowly but surely, it resumed its plunging motion. The lady moaned and flew her free hand to her screaming breast. Then all was warm. All was safe from the Autumn cold. The cold of memories. The cold of ecstasy.

It dipped in and out of her, keeping a perfect arch, keeping a perfect rhythm like it had a mind of its own. Jean's hands felt no different. They paid extra care to each curve and slope of her breasts. In simultaneously movement, her thumbs ran over the nipples, traced the outer rim, then pushed in...firmly...then softly...then firmly again; alternating with the rhythmic waves that were intoxicating her inner sanctum.

The world became a cloud. She let some of the cold in to stream strings of ice through her fingers as they pressed into her mounds. She let it kiss and cuddle her pearl while her companion floated back and forth on telekinetic waves merely a story beneath.

And then it hit her. The fear of change. It was a shroud. It was a curtain of red that followed her around wherever she went. Whenever she was smiling. Whenever she was sighing. Whenever she was looking at Scott.

A cry came out from Jean's throat. For finally she was giving into herself. She was giving into the shamelessness of her desires. For they were sacred, and they were hers. And she was in control over what she rightfully owned, whether or not it consisted of Scott. For it was her fantasy. Her tangible dream. Her Autumn breath.

The toy turned into a piston. Arcs turned into circles, and her hips had to move just to keep up. One by one, the firecrackers started to go off from inside her.

"Nghh!" Jean gasped. The lamp and alarm clock rattled on her bedside table.

Another jolt. Another inner blast.

"Aah!" she tilted her head back. Three books flew off a shelf across the room.

The piston only went faster. The color of the moon appearing and disappearing in blinks of an eye.

"Ughh!" Jean's eyes squinted as warm honey trickled down her legs. The dressing mirror on her wall started shaking. The sound was unnerving. It reached her through the shield of warmth. It penetrated her ears harder than her companion.

The redhead panicked. She'd blow the room apart! She clenched her eyes shut, took a squealing breath, and lifted herself off the bed. Levitating horizontally, Jean's naked body embraced the center of the room. The toy kept pounding her, even as she was in mid-air. Four feet above the bed sheets, she could concentrate. This was her domain. Her world.

I....am in.......control....

She moaned and tossed her head left and right. Her damp scarlet hair swished like a windsock. Her hands covered every inch of her breasts.

I....can raise...

The piston kept churning. A raw wet noise repetitively ran through the room in accompaniment to her kitten cries.

I......c-can raise....

The leaves are everywhere. I'm lifting my arms from under the blouse and they're flying to meet me. Leaves are swishing all around me, hugging me. The earth is moist, and the moisture trickles out into a river. The river flows down towards the never-setting amber of Autumn and the leaves are soaring with it. The river is warm. The river is loud.

Warm bodies and loud voices. They're rushing past me. A stream of sweat and secret smells. I'm in the middle, using Mommy's dress as a raft. It's still blue and it's still white on the edges. But it's soaking me to the bone. My wing is clipped, stuck in the locker. Scott is leaning next to me. He's smiling the color of the moon. His hair is auburn. His hair is on fire. Swaying flames and swaying and swaying and swaying and swaying....

Jean's whole body curved backwards in mid air. Her head tilted towards the floor. Her eyes were clamped shut and her jaws were gaping. Her legs spread out into a 'V' as the toy took her to the Stratosphere. She was practically mangling her breasts.

And the leaves and the bodies are one and they are flowing and they are swaying and they are on fire and they are in me, outside of me, dancing around and about me as I'm strung to the clipped wings on the ceiling.

And Autumn keeps laughing and Autumn keeps diving and Autumn keeps dancing up my skirt. The dress is soaked and slippery and could come off with one tug. Like a bracelet.

"Don't worry," Scott smiles his moon-glow smile. "I'll get it for you."

He kneels down and shows me the flames on his head. They're leaping onto my blouse and setting it afire. The warmth spreads through my breasts, down my tummy, and into my ecstasy. But the skirt remains. I stare down and gasp to see that the hem has lifted and the flame is between my thighs.

"Found it," Scott whispers.

The river dam breaks. The leaves float free. They get caught up in the cyclone and soar up my skirt to join the flame. I'm raising all the leaves. Everything is being raised. Everything is rising. In satin shaking ripples up the walls, everything is rising. They collect on the ceiling, larger and brighter than the sun, then drip down into...

...three or four pitter-patters of honey across the surface of the mattress beneath her.

"Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnghhhhh!!!" Jean squealed as the toy locked into place, sealing in the remaining ounces of her nectar. Her fingers froze against her breasts. Her teeth clenched.

And for one second in stone, the world was beautiful.

THWOMP!! Jean landed roughly in a crater of bed sheets. She immediately tilted her head up, curtained by damp scarlet, and panted as if breath was a brand new gift.

Books lay on the floor. Her alarm clock rested precariously on the edge of her bedside table. A table against the far side wall rested crooked, begging to be rearranged.

Jean swallowed. Gracefully, she let go of her numb breasts. Her back, heaving with breaths, slowly fell back against the pillow. She blinked a few times, and found her heart rate slowing down. Instinctively, she crossed her legs and reveled with one last sensation of the moon-colored companion inside her sanctum. One last jolt ran through her pulse, sighed, then died.

It was complete.

In having moved her legs, Jean realized...to her perplexity...that her toes had somehow become entangled with the openings of her discarded panties. She jerked her ankle to toss it off, but it merely rested against the length of her foot. A silly giggle came out of her, but soon was silenced at the strangely cold feel of the undergarment against her skin.

She was reminded of how chilly it was. She was reminded of the breath of Autumn and her day of making the leaves rise. A silly little girl in a pretty dress. Jean smiled weakly.

Did I know it all along?

A breeze flew in, and Jean felt exhausted. She reached down...with her non-telekinetic hands this time...and removed her companion from its firm niche. In doing so, a puddle formed at the base of her crotch and stained the sheets. She smiled. She couldn't care less. She reached down, grabbed the partially damp sheets, and wrapped it around her naked form. Cuddling in her fragrant cocoon, the warmth came back to embrace the girl inside the teenager. It felt like the perfect end to an endless day. She closed her eyes, and swam in the comfy warmth.

.................................................................Scott.

Jean's eyes flew open.

It was night outside.

She glanced at her clock. Three hours had passed since...since....

Slowly, Jean lifted the sheets. Signs of her ecstasy were there....both visual and aromatic. It felt strangely....good, to be surrounded in herself.

But night wasn't quite there yet. It took every ounce of strength, but Jean forced herself off. Hugging her naked arms, she hobbled over and shut the windows. The red curtains rested still; finished with their vigil.

Yawning, Jean headed towards her wardrobe and sought some house clothes.

A second shower, a special-hair brushing, and a change of bed sheets later...Jean wandered down the empty stairways of the Institute and into the Kitchen. She could hear Kurt playing his video games in the foyer. She smiled. He was getting used to the place.

Swiftly, the young lady opened the fridge and poured herself a tall glass of orange juice. She sat down at the kitchen table, holding the cold-to-touch glass in her hands and staring out at the evening sky through the kitchen windows.

The sound of the garage door opening and closing caught her attention. She looked over and almost blushed.

Scott walked in, whistling and spinning his car-keys around a single finger. "Heya, Jean."

"Hi, Scott," Jean said, calmly sipping from her glass. Staring at the table-top.

"I went out to find some new hubcaps. Did I miss anything?" he asked, going straight to the fridge.

She put down the glass. "Ahh...no, not really. Ororo ran a session in the Danger Room by herself, but that's about it."

"I see....I hope she improves.....er.....whatever she's trying to improve."

Jean blinked. "I didn't know you were going out this afternoon."

"Yeah.....well.....," Scott smirked and wandered over to the nearby counter with the makings for a sandwich. "It was a last second decision." After a while, he paused and looked back at her. "W-Was something planned that I forgot about?"

"Oh....no," she shook her head. "I just wasn't aware that you were gone."

"Awww....I'm sorry," he opened a cabinet and pulled out a butter knife. "I wish I was here to share the afternoon with you."

Behind his back, Jean leaned her chin against her hand and smiled dreamily.

"You were...," she whispered.