X-Men One-Shots and Preferences

Let's Talk About...Part 2

"What are you doing?" Peter looks at your strangely.
"What the hell, Peter?" you scold, quickly getting your jeans back on, "you didn't see the door was closed? Or were you in too much of a rush to even notice?" "Oh, uh, was this a bad time?" Peter asks, realizing he may have walked in on a rather intimate moment, "I thought you were just finished with a therapy, how was I supposed to know you decided to crank one out afterwards? These sex sessions making you that hot and bothered?"

"It's not like that!" you get defensive, "Look, just give me my share of the money and get out here. We have anymore sessions tomorrow by chance?" "Yeah, I managed to book a few," Peter confirms, "just make sure you're not doing any funny business in between."

Once the speedster left, you lay back on the bed, the mood basically ruined and your urge to masturbate evaporated.

----------the next day------------

You just put together a makeshift iced mocha this morning, with extra-extra whip creamed when you saw Kitty walk in, hair looking disheveled and a tired, yet pleasant look on her face.

"Uh, hey, Kitty," you greet, taking a sip of your coffee, "I'm guessing you had a fun time last night." "More then you can imagine," Kitty says all giddy, "I can still feel the vibrations reverberating, I went through three bags of bugles and a knish, and I'm pretty sure my clot is going to fall off." "I'm sorry, clot?" "Oh sorry, clit," Kitty corrects herself, "I think the orgasms made me forget how to spake temporarily. Anyway, (y/n), I just want to say thank you for the great advice you gave me, it's helped a lot. Here's a gift card, I know I already paid you, so just consider it a tip, or something."

You accept the gift card and take another sip of mocha. You were happy to help, but at this point you were just hoping some of that advice would rub off on yourself sooner or later.
On the bright side, an $80 gift card to the local steakhouse was nothing to sneeze at; they make the most amazing lava cake, and even though you've never had sex, you were pretty sure the cake would top that any day of the week.

-----------------------------------

During the day, you saw several more clients come to your room for various dysfunctions.
One client presented with symptoms of vaginismus, possibly the result of said client's natural mutation, and another with vaginal yeast infection which turned out to be the result of insecurities with natural vaginal scents.

And two clients came with hangups on oral sex (on receiving, not so much with the giving), and another who seemed to have trouble achieving and orgasm no matter what they tried to do.

Now you were on your last client for the day, "So, Kurt," you address the blue mutant, who sat crouched on the bed only in the way he could, "what brings you to my clinic today?"

"I wouldn't call this much of a clinic," Kurt says, "especially when it's established in your own room." "My parents have sessions in our house, and they call it a clinic," you tell him, "but I'm assuming you're not here to critique my choice of location. So what seems to be the problem?"
"Well, uh, I uh..." Kurt begins trying to form the words, "I've being seeing this girl, we've known each other before we actually started dating." "And?" "Well we've been kissing, and there's been some heavy petting," Kurt goes on, "And...I think she wants to take a step further." "You mean like intercourse?"
Kurt's face seemed to turn a shade of purple, like he was blushing, and he nods in response.

"Do you want to do that?" you ask, "have intercourse?" "Well yes, but uh, I'm not sure I'm ready for that," Kurt admits, "I think she expects me to make the first move, because I'm a guy and..I don't want to disappoint her but at the same time I don't think I should. I'm not even sure how to." "I thought you were German," you deadpan. "What does that have anything to do with this situation?" Kurt gets defensive, "if you're implying we're supposed to be sexually adventurous and/or promiscuous, that is an offensive stereotype! Some of us actually do prefer more...vanilla acts."

"It's not that," you correct, "I mean aren't German schools supposed to include comprehensive sex ed or something along those lines? Some type of ongoing program to prepare you for these types of situations?"

"I didn't go to German public school," Kurt deadpans, "in case you forgot, I am visibly a mutant and was therefore not allowed to participate in such a public life. Any education I did receive on sex and romance either came from my foster mother or fellow performers in the Munich Circus...which admittedly wasn't all that helpful."

"I don't suppose you received any advice from the Catholic Church?" you ask. "If by advice, you mean wait until marriage, then...no, nothing really beyond that," Kurt reluctantly admits, "nothing really specific."

"Well, that's probably something you'll to work over between yourself and God," you tell him, "but I can say if you're not ready, you don't have to. Just tell her no, you're allowed to say that word as much as she is. You don't owe her a reason other then you're simply not ready. If she tries to pressure, that's coercion, and if she leaves because of that...well then that's her loss. They'll be others, Kurt. I know dating as a mutant, especially those who are visibly so, but ask yourself, is it really worth compromising your convictions and self-esteem for someone who ends up not respecting you or your boundaries?"

Kurt goes silent, like he was actually thinking over what you told him. He stands up from the bed, "thank you for your advice," he tells you, "I need to go, have some homework to finish. I'll see you tomorrow in class."

After Kurt left, you hear a knock at the door,
"(y/n)? Your pants on this time?" you head Peter knocking on the door. "Yes, my pants are still on," you deadpan. Peter opens the door and gives you your share of the profits.

"Pete, how much are you charging the clients?" you ask, counting the money. "The same standard," the speedster tells you, "some of them have been leaving tips though as a way of saying thank you." "Is that even ethical?" you ask. "Who cares? It's not like we're a licensed clinic," Peter shrugs, "and why are you even complaining? Look at this dough, we're getting rich." "Yeah, off people's dysfunctions which seem to result from a lack of education on their pleasures and bodies," you deadpan, "Don't you think this feels a little like exploitation?"

"Well the lack of education may be a little oversimplified, it's probably a myriad of other things like trauma, politics, healthcare access, and one's own socioeconomic status too," Peter admits, "but, if you really feel this would be considered exploitation, then how do you propose we alleviate it?"

You think about it for a moment, then remembered the kind of things your mother would do every so often for both clients and non-clients alike, "what about a workshop?" you suggest, "one that involves learning about sexuality?" "Do you even know anything about running something like that?" Peter asks. "No, but my parents do," you say, "I sometimes listened in on them back home, maybe we can stop by the house and pick up some stuff we need to set up a workshop class here."

"What kind of things?" Peter asks. "Well," you begin, "there's vaginal model mom uses in her workshops to identify the parts to stimulate to achieve an orgasm," you explain, "there's also a book with pictures of different shaped labias, and there's a few videos too to correctly identify certain anatomical features of the gyno and phallic variety."

  "Pfft, phallic," Peter snickers. "Oh grow up, Pete, they're body parts, get over it," you scold, "Trust me, I've seen enough back home to know that once you see one, you've basically seen them all. Now all we need is a place to set up this workshop, the bedrooms are gonna be a little crowded, and I do anticipate a somewhat medium turnout."

Peter thinks on it, "what about a classroom?" he suggests, "any of them will work, and we can do it after school once the teachers are finished working."

"I guess that'll work," you nod, "it's a little on the nose, but this is for educational purposes. Okay, let's do that."

"Awesome," Peter gives two thumbs up, "I'll go print out some flyers."

He speeds out of the room.

You realize you have the place to yourself once again. It seemed like good a time as any. You take off your pants and resume what you tried to do the other day. 

 More to come (no pun intended).