A Fortunate Evening
Mitchell Laurio sat alone at the bar, as was his typical practice. Just finished with his shift at the prison, he wasted no time driving to Lou's, the local watering hole. The alcohol was cheap, and sometimes he'd get to see an attractive woman. Though he knew it could never lead anywhere, he enjoyed these fleeting glimpses of female beauty.
These days, his job at the prison made his life especially miserable. With the arrival of that mutant, everything changed. The brutal creation required an all-plastic cell free of metal, even for the guards. This meant not only his work necessities but his personal items - watch, rings, necklaces - all had to be replaced with non-metal alternatives. Every day before work, he had to pass through a metal detector, much like a criminal.
"Why bother?" Mitchell would lament to his friends. "They're all monsters. Just kill them all!" But these liberal bastards wouldn't hear of it. So, like clockwork, he'd drown his sorrows each evening in cheap beer.
That night, as he sat alone nursing his drink, he heard the TV blathering on. The local news was all over mutants, a topic he'd had more than his fill of. An anchor was talking about some protest. He couldn't care less if it was pro or anti-mutant. Hoping for a break from the mutant talk, he shouted a demand, "Turn that crap off, Lou!"
So, the TV switched off, but his beer was almost finished. He contemplated leaving early. Then, to his surprise, he heard a soft voice behind him.
"Mind if I join you?" A woman's sultry voice called from behind. He turned, and what he saw left him speechless. Grace was dressed in a form-fitting leather jacket and tight blue dress. Her slender, perfect figure, tousled blonde hair, and that face - he could never describe it as anything less than divine. Her lips were ruby red, full and longed for a man's touch.
"Mitchell Laurio?" She inquired, trying to read the name tag on his uniform. "I'm Grace." A sweet, knowing smile played across her lips. He couldn't help but notice she was giving him the same filthy thoughts as he held in his mind.
Mitchell gulped back his drink, downing the dregs of his beer. Without another word, she stood, bringing two full mugs in her hand. With languid strides she approached, sliding into the seat across from him. As grace leaned over, her foot brushed against his leg.
"Fancy another brew?" She asked, suggesting he finish the other mug. He took it in his grasp, downing a large gulp.
Grace empathized,"You look lonely sitting by yourself." Her foot rubbed against his leg, a little forcefully for a woman's.
"Can't stand to see a man left alone," She smiled, seductively. He looked down, thinking of her offering.
"I came here searching for someone, but they stood me up," Grace said, feigning dismay. She playfully pouted, making him think she was truly distraught. Then she reached over, placing her hand over his.
"But it's right lovely to be rescued by a handsome man like you," She smiled, sliding her foot even closer.
Mitchell's confidence returned as he drank his beer, not able to help the boldness he felt. "If I must be the hero, I'll be your Prince charming of the evening," he quipped. But he quickly got distracted as he saw why she brought him here - never had he seen such a voluptuous figure in the flesh.
"Something you'd like to tell me, Grace?" He asked, feeling bolder. He placed his hand on her smooth, graceful leg, feeling it rub against his.
"I couldShare some secrets, Mr. Laurio," She teased, edging closer to him. She whispered with mischief, "The secrets of a woman's desires."
"I've always had a thing for men in uniforms," she whispered into his ear. Then she shifted back in her chair, allowing Mitchell to take a deep breath and once again consume his drink.
"McLovin'! My house isn't too far from here." He became excited and stood up to retrieve his coat from the back of his chair, but she stopped him.
"I can't hold out that long, honey," she said as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. "I need you right now." She slid his hand up her skirt, and Mitchell felt her warm, moist pussy through the fabric of her dress. It was still surprising to him when he discovered she wasn't wearing any underwear. "Is there a bathroom we can use?" She asked in a soft voice as she pressed her lips against his ear and brushed his growing cock against his pants.
Mitchell hesitated. "It's not the cleanest here," he cautiously expressed, worried that she might reconsider their tryst. To his delight, she simply smiled and said, "All the better. I plan to get dirty with you." He began to feel dry mouthed as he nodded, leading her by the hand to the bathroom. At the time, he was unsure whether to be relieved or anxious, but it had been so long since he last felt his member fully roused, he didn't want to pass up the opportunity.
"Here you go, babe," she said as she handed him his barely touched drink. "Enjoy it after I'm done with you."
"My mouth will be busy with other matters," Mitchell replied, waving her declaration off. And although he sensed a trace of apprehension in her eyes, it was rapidly overtaken by renewed passion when she met his gaze, leaving him slightly perplexed.
"Calm down, hunk," she cooed. "I'm going to have my fun first, and then your mouth will be everywhere." She winked playfully, then led the way into the bathroom. Mitchell had a sudden inspiration, and before they entered, snapped up his mug to take a few deep gulps.
Upon closing the door, he was swept into a flurry of her embraces, and found it difficult to set down his drink. She attacked his lips fiercely, her tongue dancing with his own, even as his hand wandered over her firm derriere. She stopped momentarily to commence kissing his neck, before guiding his hand to the third stall. The moment their lips parted, she gave his head a curious once-over, lightly pushing him towards the closed door.
"What a wild one!" Mitchell exclaimed, feeling his muscles relax as she pushed him against the partially open door. He glanced around at the grimy walls, the foul stench of urine permeating the stall as his lips met her own again. "Don't you think it's a bit unclean in here?"
"More my style," was all Grace replied as her hands delved inside his shirt. Thankfully, Mitchell consented as she unfastened his pants, ripping the material with surprising ease. He watched his manhood swell as it was finally released from its constricting embedment, and reached for the door handle to escape the unsanitary scene. But she restrained his hand, pushing him inside the stall.
"I've never met a lady like you," Mitchell exclaimed between gasps. He couldn't help but notice the stunning shape of her body, the hourglass figure accentuated by her tight dress.
"Oh yes I've heard that before." She teased his mouth only to deliver a passionate kiss, before forcing him down onto the toilet seat. He made no resistance as she enclosed him in her warmth. "This place is incredibly dirty," he said, yet in spite of this horror, he encountered no desire to leave his current location.
To his amazement, Grace simply knelt before him, opening his pants. He looked down as she took a long look at his ample cock, a small tear in the velcro costing him the pleasure of witnessing her amazement up close. "Velcro?" She queried. "Awesome!" Mitchell was delighted until she manipulated her lips against his throbbing member, smelling its scent with obvious delight.
"Man, I didn't think I'd come across such a fine cock in that bar..." Grace commented, nibbling at his length while coaxing it with her fingers. She drew it all in, from base to tip, generating ripples of pleasure through Mitchell's whole body as she suckled away. She cast a grin at him, relishing her teasing.
"They say it also tastes pretty damn good." Mitchell smirked back, pushing her shiny golden tresses away from her face. His eyes took in the delectable sight of her performing her oral skills, his heart throbbing rapidly. Noticing that his beer was empty, he downed it in one long gulp. Meanwhile, her hands pulled and twisted his dick ever so slightly.
"I suppose I need to test this theory too, huh?." Grace went on, taking a long swipe with her tongue. Her moist lips wrapped through to the tip as she continued to do her thing. The sensations were even more mind-blowing, and as she danced her head up and down, she made slurping noises that were a big turn-on for Mitchell.
"Holy fuck, oh my God," he exclaimed, gripping the back of her skull as she offered him her blow job. "You're the dirtiest bitch I've ever encountered."
He felt his cock dribbling wetness down onto his legs, and it only increased his desire. He gave her a look, she understood and lifted her head just enough to take a gulp of air. When she resumed, she was able to view the sight of her gigantic knockers jiggling in her dress — and the thought entranced him.
There was something odd about his hands when he tried reaching for the zipper on her back. It took a few extra attempts before he could finally get it. Grace must have caught on to his intentions, because she helped him out by taking charge and undoing it herself.
She tugged the dress down, allowing her supple breasts to bust free. It left Mitchell lost in awe; they were in perfect harmony and full of curves. Slightly firm yet not hard enough to detract from her sleek frame, they were topped with plump areolas and bobbing nipples. He grabbed one, rolling it between his fingers, and played with the pointy bits.
Grace snickered, "So you wanna fuck these tits, Mitchell, huh? You wanna know what it's like ramming your dick between real hooters?" He couldn't get a word out, but she didn't wait. She let his penis slide into its wet resting place between her large mammaries like two soft pillows. She lifted herself up and down like that, letting it glide over her bosom as her lapping tongue followed it.
"Jesus..." Mitchell murmured, feeling like he was in another world. Waves of intoxication and reality mixed together. Every sensation, sound, and feeling felt amplified, and he didn't want any of it to end.
Soon, she pulled away only slightly. The top half of her dress was now hung up on her neck, revealing her pussy below.
"You wanna fuck here?" Grace tested, lifting her lower body just enough for him to slip inside her. His vision was hazy with all the drunken adrenaline, but he couldn't think properly even with the spectacle. "[My cunt is] ready for some serious pounding," she demanded. Rounding up the situation, she mounted him and lowered herself until he plunged into her tight, wet vagina.
Mitchell struggled to keep quiet as his lips strained from the effort. Grace's pussy was incredibly snug and felt almost like her mouth. After about a minute, Grace started bouncing vigorously, causing her ass to slap against Mitchell's thighs each time she descended. The restroom became a blur to him, with the exception of Grace. Her breasts jiggled in his face every time she went up, and he desperately tried to kiss them, often failing.
"You like this, you horny security guard?" Grace demanded as she bounced on him. "Do you enjoy pounding this blonde's wet, pink pussy?"
Mitchell could barely utter words; all of his blood was pooling in his penis. "I think...I'm...going to cum!" he mustered. Grace picked up the pace, her cunt gliding up and down, causing her breasts to bounce, leaving Mitchell desperate to suck on them.
"Yes, cum, you bastard!" Grace screamed, giving Mitchell even more incentive. Mitchell finally erupted inside her, unleashing a wave of intense pleasure. It hit him like a tidal wave but receded almost instantly, leaving him momentarily paralyzed.
Grace dismounted, handing him the mug of beer. "Drink up, my beautiful," she said, winking at him. Eager to oblige, Mitchell raised the mug in a toast. "Cheers!" he said, finishing off the drink.
"Obviously," she said, sipping from her own mug. As the sedative Mystique had laced in his beer began to take effect, she observed Mitchell's eyes close and his body grow limp.
The transformation was quick and painless. Removing the beer from his limp hands, Mystique wiped her brow, changing back into her natural blue form. Finding a large syringe filled with a thick liquid in her purse, she smiled.
"Well," she said to herself, "There's one way to lower one's pants." Speedily, she drew Mitchell toward her, injecting the syringe into his glutes. She hadn't anticipated the situation would escalate so quickly, but she couldn't deny the joy it brought her. Once the syringe was empty, she tossed it in the trash, morphing into an ordinary-looking man to avoid raising suspicion when exiting the restroom.
The next hour or so would find Mitchell waking up with a throbbing headache but no other apparent damage. With Magneto taking care of the rest, Mystique planned to report back to her mentor about the carefully executed escape plan. However, she realized leaving out a few fine details might be prudent. She took one last look at the stall before exiting. "What a ride," she murmured.
