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Faithless
🕑 Added 2021-01-10 23:00:00 +0000 UTCMary Jane passed Tony Stark in the lobby of Stark Tower. She refused to look back, though she felt him give her the same once-over going that he had as she approached.
They were living in a penthouse apartment worthy of a luxury hotel, but Peter didn’t have a cent to his name. Her husband had all these opportunities as Spider-Man and not only did he not take advantage of them, but he turned so many of them down. It wasn’t like Tony was greedy, but no matter how many times he lost his fortune, he managed to end up with something to show for himself. Why couldn’t Peter have that same drive?
The thought ran around and around in Mary Jane’s mind as she walked out to her car in Stark Tower’s underground parking garage. She unlocked the trunk and put the cardboard box she was carrying inside. Another round of their possessions to be sold to make sure they weren’t sponging off of the Avengers. She slammed the trunk door shut in her frustration, slid into the driver’s seat, slammed that door too, then keyed the ignition.
The engine didn’t turn over.
“Motherfucker!” she cried as it stubbornly refused to yield. And now their car was busted. One more thing for them to pay for with money they didn’t have. Peter had probably saved a thousand car mechanics. Hell, there was probably a good dozen dealerships who’d eagerly give him a new car, no questions asked. But would Peter ever let that good karma come his way? No. He only allowed himself to suffer for the bad things he’d done. And Mary Jane had to suffer with Peter, even though all she’d done was marry him.
She’d have to get the damn thing towed, pay for the mechanic—what she needed was a whole new car, but it’d take longer than forever to get one now when she also had to have the old one repaired…
“Car trouble?” Tony asked, suddenly outside her window, leaning on the roof of the car.
Mary Jane flustered with embarrassment. He must’ve heard her curse and come to see what was wrong. She decided to power through it and act like she was totally shameless.
She rolled down her window: “I can’t get the engine going.”
“Let me try,” Tony said, opening the door.
Mary Jane slid over into the passenger seat. “I think it’s dead,” she said.
Tony leaned in, grasping the key firmly and giving it a turn. The engine sputtered, but wouldn’t do anything else. Tony tried several times, seeming to listen to its gargling like a man lost in soulful jazz, before he straightened up. He walked to the front bumper and popped the hood.
“I think you’re missing a starter,” he said within moments of examining the engine.
“What?” Mary Jane demanded, jumping out of her seat to run over to the raised hood. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of rancid gasoline and burnt oil, but she could see there was a gaping hole to the right of the engine block, with loose wires hanging haphazardly about it. She was no mechanic, but that could not be right. “Who the hell would do that?”
“Kids, probably,” Tony said with a shake of his head. “I try to keep the tower a nice place to live, so no Fort Knox security measures, but the trade-off is that you never know when something like this’ll happen.” He slammed the hood. “Still, our security should be better than this. I feel responsible. Let me give you a ride. It’s the least I can do.”
His words hit Mary Jane like they were shot from a cannon. She didn’t know a single woman who wouldn’t sell her soul to be this close to Tony Stark. And she couldn’t even enjoy it. Not when she was married to Peter Parker.
“I don’t want to put you out, Tony. You’ve already given us so much—”
“Can’t you take anymore?” Tony asked her, smiling broadly as he took her by the arm and led her to a nearby vantage point. He reached into his pocket and thumbed his key fob. She saw his Lamborghini light up. It would be so nice just to be inside it, not taking public transportation or a beater of an old car for once.
“Let me get my things,” she said, looking around to see if anyone was watching.
Now why did I do that? Mary Jane asked herself as she got her box out of the trunk and moved it to Tony’s Lamborghini. It wasn’t like she was doing anything wrong. But as she ducked under the gull-wing door into the passenger seat, Mary Jane couldn’t really say that she wasn’t imagining something happening between her and Tony.
All the frustration that had been building up in her marriage seemed to be breaking loose at Tony’s kindness and solicitude, like one precisely placed chisel breaking a glacier in half. She felt adventurous and aroused. And there was Tony, vital and masculine. Her husband would be gone for hours, playing Spider-Man.
As Tony got in on his side, Mary Jane dug her nails into her palms to keep silent. She didn’t dare betray herself. She feared what she would say to Tony if she let herself talk.
“Okay, where are we headed?” Tony asked as he started the car and backed out of his parking space.
Mary Jane gave him the address of the upscale pawn shop where she could expect to discreetly get her hands on some disposable income, forcing her voice to remain steady as she described the route there. It felt like she was admitting to some lucid sin.
Tony didn’t say a word, though, as they cruised out of the parking garage. In a way, Mary Jane was disappointed. It felt like she wasn’t worth making a pass at. Of course, she’d refuse him if he did. She wasn’t the kind of woman who cheated on her husband. But it’d be flattering to know she had gotten Tony Stark’s…
“This isn’t the way to the pawn… to where I’m going,” Mary Jane said, suddenly noticing their surroundings were all wrong. She’d been lost in thought, but now they were pulling to a stop at a curb and… oh God… where were they?
“I thought you could use a little break. You want some coffee? I’m getting coffee.”
Tony got out and sauntered up the sidewalk to a brownstone. Brooklyn. She’d really let him take her to Brooklyn. And now what? Should she just leave? Insist on him taking her where he’d promised her she’d go? Or should she let him seduce her? Because it was clear this was no accident. He’d started the game and the ball was in her court. She’d thought of cheating on Peter. Now did she really want to?
Tony walked to the kitchen and flickered on the light. “So, clearing out the closet? You could just ask for more space. One good thing about living in a skyscraper: you can always build another floor.”
“It’s not that,” Mary Jane said dully, closing the front door quietly behind her. She couldn’t seem to think the situation through.
There was Tony Stark with her, alone in this perfect little love nest. How long would it be now until he made his move? And should she give in? God knew it had been long enough since Peter had fucked her. She’d been a good wife to him all this time and what had it gotten her? A few pumps a month that left her totally unsatisfied. If Tony could both please her cunt and top off her bank account, Mary Jane had a hard time thinking of what Peter had to offer.
“I’d prefer tea,” Mary Jane said, taking over the kitchen on a sudden whim. She lit up a burner, found a teakettle in the cupboards, and filled it with water before setting it down to simmer. A further search found her the teabags. She thumbed through them as if it were a task requiring great concentration with Tony leaning against the refrigerator, watching her work.
Every inch of her skin seemed to be charged with sexual energy. Her knees wobbled as she stood there under Tony’s gaze. She wanted to stay here with Tony as badly as she wanted to get away from him. No, not him. His temptation.
Tony watched her for what seemed like hours, his eyes waiting for the slightest hint of movement, the slightest change in the way she held herself. The sound of the heating water filled the room. Finally, Tony started to move towards her, slowly and steadily. He had grown bored of waiting? Or had Mary Jane finally sent him some signal?
“I’m married,” Mary Jane protested—was she protesting?—feeling his right arm slip around her slender waist and draw her against his chest. She felt his muscles, firm and clenched, as he bent her backwards with his kiss.
Mary Jane struggled weakly in his embrace, but she was more fighting her own curiosity than she was fighting him. And even that sense of temptation she couldn’t overcome. She ended up feeling his hot tongue slipping into her mouth, his hands sliding down to her plump buttocks. His fingers sunk into her asscheeks, pulling them apart, managing to separate her pussy lips in the process.
Mary Jane moaned into Tony’s kiss and felt her hot cunt opening up as if in offering to him. His grip lightened on her buttocks—now he was holding her skirt, hiking it up higher and higher until she felt the room’s cool air on her exposed skin. Tony slid his fingers into her panties, grabbing hold of the bare flesh of her ass.
Mary Jane moaned, feeling the bloom of steamy juices gathering in her cunt. Tony’s skilled mouth sucked at hers and he rubbed his bulging erection into her lap, soaking the crotch of her panties in the wetness of her slit. Mary Jane fought the desire to reach down and feel Tony’s groin in the same way he was feeling hers. She knew he would be hard. But she didn’t know if she wanted to know how hard, how big, whether that would make her give in or not. Even now she clung to the possibility of backing out of this and keeping… what? What did she have that Peter had given her—that Tony couldn’t?
“The tea!” Mary Jane gasped, pulling herself from Tony’s lips, struggling against his arms. She didn’t know if she was trying to escape; it seemed more like she was just seeing if she was physically capable of resisting.
“Fuck the tea,” Tony said gruffly, his eyes burning into MJ. She felt herself melting, every inch of her becoming soft and warm and pliant. She wanted to stay in his hands and let him do things to her. She didn’t want to know if she could resist him—maybe if would be better later, less guilty, if she thought she couldn’t. Her body heaved with excitement, feeling him kneading and tantalizing the flesh of her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. His hands were so strong—so desirous of her…
Then, abruptly, he released her. Mary Jane found herself stumbling with her futile escape now successful, carrying her shakily away from him. The whistling kettle was deafening by the time she collected herself, turned off the flame and took it from the burner.
Potent throbs rocked her wet cunt. Mary Jane didn’t know how she was resisting the urge to run over to Tony and beg him to take her back. Her body was on fire. Her mind seethed with lust, while her sex clenched and sucked in readiness to be entered.
“Mary Jane,” Tony said hoarsely, as if summoning her.
Mary Jane balled her hands into two tight fists, then threw her head back to let out a shrill laugh. If Peter couldn’t take care of her, why not let Tony do it? He was certainly capable of it. In every aspect imaginable. It was time she got to be happy. She’d tried being a poor wife. Now she’d see how life was as a rich whore.
“You asked for me, Tony?” she simpered in a heated voice, turning and leaning against the stove as she fixed him with a burning gaze. This time she didn’t try to hold back her feelings. She was on fire. Every little bit of her cunt wanted to be wrapped around his big cock.
Tony could tell what she wanted. He smiled triumphantly as he walked up to her. Mary Jane reached out to him in complete surrender, putting her arms around his neck, clasping her fingers behind his neck, and pressing her full breasts against his chest.
“Do you want my cunt, Tony? Do you want to fuck me? Because you’d better make it worth my while,” she cooed, feeling his clever hands unzipping her skirt. It floated down to the floor and he moved onto her panties. Mary Jane undulated her hips as if belly-dancing and he rolled them off of her. She moaned as she was exposed, rolling her head from side to side with the lust she openly felt. Tony kept trying to draw her wet panties down her long legs.
“Goddamnit!” Tony barked, giving up at trying to get her tangled panties unstuck from her legs. He jumped up and moved to her blouse, ripping it open. “I’ll buy you a new blouse, for starters!”
Mary Jane moaned happily, her nipples so stiff they chaffed against her bra and begged to be free, to be fondled. Tony moved his hands to them, covering her deliciously round breasts and squeezing them for all they were worth. He kept hunching against her, raking his groin against her wet pussy. With each rub of his bulge against her bare cunt, Mary Jane felt herself pulse scrumptiously.
“Will you buy me a new bra, too?” Mary Jane teased, and Tony’s hands flew to her bra.
In a moment, he’d ripped it off her. It fell to the floor, shredded. Tony ran one hand worshipfully over her bare breasts while his other went down to unzip his fly. Instinctively, Mary Jane rolled her own hands down Tony’s belly, over his lap, until she found her way inside his open fly. Her trembling fingers were singed by the heat of the bulge in his boxers. There was nothing to stop her from taking his erection in her hands!
“I want you. Goddamn, there’s nothing I want more than to have this big fucker inside you!” Tony groaned, shaking with need as she slid one hand inside the crotch of his boxers.
She felt his fat cock straining against the confines of his underwear, throbbing potently, and when she squeezed it, Tony’s breath whooshed from him in sheer delight. Licking her lips, Mary Jane drew him out of his boxers and into the open air.
“Ready for bed?” Tony cooed to her, patting her hand where it was clasped on his prick.
