Bob is an ordinary, average guy, with an ordinary average life. He's single, has a okay-paying job that isn't particularly awful, lives in a slightly cramped but fairly comfy apartment, etc.
Then one Tuesday night, as he turns out the lights, Psylocke slides into his bed and starts kissing him... He wakes up the next morning to find no trace of her, and assumes he was dreaming. The next night, he hangs out with some buddies after work, has
a few beers, and comes home to find Starfire laying on his bed, naked. She invites him to join her...Thursday morning, he assumes he must have had a few more than he thought, ignoring the lingering scent and the long orange hairs on his pillow.
Then he comes home from work to find the Scarlet Witch cooking him dinner. He's so completely in shock that he simply goes along with her as they eat, clean up, and then go to his bedroom. He wakes up to find her gone, but there's leftovers in the fridge.
He spends the rest of the day in a fugue, going about his routine like a zombie as he tries to process it...until, while headed for the couch to watch TV after dinner, Cheetah suddenly pounces on him and tears his clothes off. He wakes up Saturday morning
covered in scratches, alone again. He decides to focus on little details (so as not to have to think about what's happening) and decides to get some salve from the pharmacy for said scratches. He gets into his car, and Emma Frost opens the passenger door,
slides in and, in that inimitable, un-disobeyable, Emma way instructs him to drive to a fancy hotel, where she pays for a suite and spends the rest of the weekend fucking Bob's brains out. Monday morning, Bob is woken by room service, who arrive with breakfast
and his laundered clothes, compliments of the lady, who has already checked out.. He goes to work, comes home, and is not particularly surprised to find Mary Marvel on his couch, adorably nervous as she asks him to make her a woman...
And so it goes. Every day, a random superbabe or two appears out of the blue and has sex with Bob. The kind of sex varies; down-and-dirty quickies and languorous lovemaking, purely vanilla and kinky almost to the point of squick. Usually it's initiated at
Bob's apartment at night, but sometimes it's not. Sometimes the woman (or women) gets right down to it, sometimes there's some form of preamble. Regardless, they're never there the next morning. When Bob is able to ask, they admit to not knowing how or why
either, merely that they don't feel at all confused or bothered by it, that it feels right. Even the ones who are married, or aren't attracted to human men, or live on other planets, or are dead...