mobofair
patreon
Ending At Beginnings: Fuck Mary Jane
🕑 Added 2020-02-08 17:55:41 +0000 UTC
“I really shouldn’t,” Mary Jane moaned, though the reluctance was dying in her eyes as Peter continued stroking her, kissing her, all while his erection throbbed through his pains, letting MJ feel in her thighs how he wanted to fuck her.
“Shouldn’t what? Come?” Peter smiled. “That’s okay, you don’t have to…”
“Fuck, Peter—how can I not come when you do these things to me?”
“You tell me,” Peter teased her, gazing at her stiffening nipples. It was becoming clear he was getting to her. “You try not to come and I’ll test you.”
“God, God!” MJ rasped, frowning. “You make me feel so cheap sometimes—“
“You like feeling cheap,” Peter said softly in her ear. “It turns you on…”
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
Mary Jane opened her mouth to reply, but Peter beat her to it, speaking before she could.
“I mean it. I love you. You think I’m desperate now, you have no idea what it’s been like without you. You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hold you, just hold you… how much I need you when I’m scared or sad or I just need you… sometimes I think of how you got, all on your own, and I told myself you were happy now, but if you spent even one moment being alone, I wanted to be there to comfort you. Sure, I want you, but it’s nothing compared to how much I’ve needed you.”
As much as his body screamed in denial, his prick felt like it was coming to pull itself of him and go after Mary Jane itself, he forced himself up so that he was kneeling over Mary Jane while she laid there on the couch, looking like a billion dollars. And he knew what a billion dollars looked like. At that moment, he wouldn’t have traded MJ for ten Parker Industries.
“What do you have to tell me?” Peter asked.
After a deep breath, Mary Jane opened up her shirt all the way, undressing herself for Peter. She enjoyed the attention he lavished on each reveal as much as he enjoyed the sight of it.
“I have to tell you,” MJ said, pushing her panties down to clear the way for him, “that you only get a sprint. Not a marathon. I expect to come fast and if you’re not along for the ride—“
“I’m just about to go on the ride all by myself,” Peter told her. “But if you wanna time me…”
“Let’s not set a precedent. You’re wasting seconds, tiger.”
Peter didn’t waste anymore. Hauling his cock out, he fit its tip to Mary Jane’s slot, found it open and wet, and he thrust inside. Despite her protestations, MJ had gotten almost as aroused as he was. He managed to hilt himself in her with the first thrust.
“Oooooo!” Mary Jane shrieked in ecstasy. Her body shook and the folds of her cunt pulsed madly around Peter’s cock. He could see from the look on her face that this quickie was going better than she’d hoped.
Mary Jane looked up at the expression of relief on Peter’s face. Feeling how ecstatically his prick was throbbing inside her, she could tell he was enjoying himself and appreciating her. She laid back on the couch and let a million tiny flames burn around his impaling cock.
“Yeah. Fuck me. Fuck me, tiger! Don’t make me regret letting you get a piece!”
Mary Jane didn’t have to worry about that. Her closeness, her willingness, the obvious satisfaction she took in being fucked, it made Peter’s cock rage. He was desperate to unload into her. He thrust insanely into her pussy, not having to hold back for once—now that he was only human, he could give her all of his strength and she would only ask for more.
His cock surged with even greater delight; Peter loved his newfound freedom and Mary Jane looked to be enjoying herself just as much. He leaned down to suck one of her stiff nipples. Mary Jane moaned and kicked. As her legs came up, Peter pushed them further back, her feet up around her ears as he drove violently into her cunt. Mary Jane’s eyes widened, seeing her creamy thighs pressed against his chest, all of her folded up under him to take his prick.
“I’m not gonna let you have any regrets,” he panted above her. “I’m gonna make you come as hard as you deserve—show you everything that hot little ass does to a man…”
“Yeah?” Mary Jane goaded him, eyes flashing in evident relish. A wide grin was parting her freckled face, challenging even through her ecstasy. “Show me! Show me how fucking hot I’ve made you! You fucking begged for my cunt, now show me what the hell—gghh!”
MJ broke off, her eyes twitching, face going slack as she felt the first tremors of an exquisite climax. She was pinned down to the couch, not daring to move for fear of losing the slow, thudding beat inside herself that she knew would become rapture. Not that she could move, Peter fucking her harder and harder, and all she could do was burn in sheer desire, utterly overcome and loving her own surrender…
“I love you,” Peter keened in her ear, his eyes desperate, face red, almost there…
“Love me later,” Mary Jane shot back. “Fuck me now!”
Peter hilted himself in her, his cock throbbing, every part of him straining and thrusting to be inside her, be part of her, and she came as he did, she would’ve put it down to the millisecond, his cum rushing in to fill her as her cunt tightened like she was sucking it out of him, wanting it even faster. Mary Jane hugged him tightly, the only thing she could think to do as the rapture washed over her.
“Hnnnn!” she groaned. “Fuck, like that! Ohh, it’s happening, you’re doing it—to me—I can feel it! Come inside me, Peter! Fill me up! Nnn! I fucking love it!”
Peter gasped out his own pleasure as his cock spasmed and spasmed, firing an endless supply of cum into her. His hips rocked jaggedly, keeping the fuck going for a few more precious seconds as the orgasm grew in intensity for both of them. Her cunt shuddered around him, cajoling more out of Peter, and he fed more and more of himself into her insatiable sex.
“Fuck! Fuck!” Peter panted. “Have to fuck you! Have to let you feel… shit, I want you, I want all of you. Just like this, forever…”
Mary Jane glowed as Peter filled her to the point where it actually hurt a little, having so much cum inside her. But all she really felt was the thrill of his adoration. He loved her. She couldn’t keep up the tightness of her embrace, not when a satiated weakness was passing through her in the wake of her climax. But she held him as best she could, arms limp around his back, legs intertwined with his. She never wanted to let go. He was hers.
She loved him and if nothing else proved it, the fact was that sex with him was the way sex was supposed to feel, the kind of sex girls were supposed to wait for. Every other boy and every other girl just seemed like a time-waster until the universe had finally maneuvered them together. This was what her body was meant for—his cock, his love—and he was meant for her just as much. She could see how much he enjoyed himself in the look of utter contentment he wore.
Mary Jane forced her body to marshal a last little bit of strength, hugging him tighter as his twitching plunges slowed and he settled on top of her. She kissed him and nestled against him, running her hands over the security of his body—she could literally feel it in her hands. Every muscle that would protect her, work for her, endeavor to please her. She could touch his devotion to her in every inch of his skin.
“Forever,” Mary Jane sighed softly. “That was good… that was wonderful!”
“It’s always good with you,” Peter said just as gently, kissing her cheek and seeming to get as much satisfaction out of it as he had in making her his. Both were the same thing, she guessed.
“Damn straight,” Mary Jane smirked.
She closed her eyes, but remembered that there was a quilt laid over the back of the couch. A gift from Aunt May. This was probably a use she’d never have intended it for, but MJ thought she’d most likely approve. The redhead pulled it over their joined bodies, making this couch more comfortable than many beds she’d known.
Peter started to shift and MJ stopped him, laying her palm flat on the small of her back. “Don’t take it out. Not yet.”
“Why not?” Peter teased. She could hear the boyish grin in his voice. “Want a rematch?”
“Don’t press your luck,” Mary Jane told him.
“I can’t get enough of you. Who could?”
“Yeah,” Mary Jane yawned. “That’s true. But next time, send me a text first. Or at least ‘gram me.”
“You really are one of a kind, MJ. I think you just asked me for dick pics.”
She smiled a little. “You’re the one with the hobby of taking pictures of yourself. I’m just being supportive.”
He laid his head on her chest. Mary Jane kissed the top of his head.
“What’d you want to tell me, anyway?”
Mary Jane’s eyes flew open. She’d forgotten. In a sense, it was no surprise—Peter had given her an awful lot to think about it. But in another sense, Gwen Stacy was in the other room and there was no way she hadn’t heard them. Great, we have a guest over for one hour and already she must think we’ve sex maniacs.
“Promise me you won’t freak out?”
Peter looked at her sardonically. “MJ, I’ve been a giant spider. I think I have a pretty high threshold for whatever you’ve got. Wait, you’re not pregnant, are you?” He looked down fearfully at her body, as if he were suddenly worried about his male heir being born with one eye.
Mary Jane held him tight. “One, no. Two, and not for lack of apparent trying, I might add. I’m pretty sure we’re putting my birth control through hell right now.”
Peter sighed in relief. “So what’s the big deal?”
“Continue cuddling,” Mary Jane ordered him. “If I have to be your cock holster right this minute, no questions asked, you can give me some petting.”
Peter wrapped his arms around her again, this time rearranging them to a more traditional—and somewhat more comfortable—spooning.
“There. Happy?”
Mary Jane ignored the sarcasm. “You know how there are all these alternate dimensions? Ones where you’re evil, or you have a beard, or you’re Tony Stark’s cabana boy…”
“Hey, don’t bring that one up. You had it worse there, as I recall.”
Mary Jane shuddered. It seemed in some universes, she’d been switched at birth. As to how her parents hadn’t noticed they clearly hadn’t gotten the right Mary Jane, she could only blame grievous alcohol abuse.
“So,” she continued, “there’s alternate yous, there’s alternate mes—“
“And there’s alternate me,” Gwen said, sitting down in a nearby armchair.
Peter panicked, scrambling to pull the quilt more over himself, while Mary Jane struggled to calm him down until he realized that he was more liable to expose himself than cover his body any more thoroughly.
“Sorry,” Gwen said, “it seemed like you were finished afterglowing? Great sex, by the way. It seemed like MJ didn’t fake—anything. Oh, I’m from a universe that’s a little more open about sex, so don’t mind me, I’m not embarrassed.”
“You’re not embarrassed?” Peter asked. Thanks to Morlun and his cannibal clan, he was used to the prospect of Gwen being alive and well—not to mention nigh-identical relatives and a literal clone—but there was seeing her again and there was seeing her when he’d just creampied his girlfriend.
“Sorry again,” Gwen put in. “I just hate having people talk about me behind my back and also I hate eavesdropping on people, so it’s probably best if we just talk. Open and honest communication, right? You do that here?”
“There are rumors,” Mary Jane deadpanned.
“Okay, fine.” Peter settled against Mary Jane’s body, trying to hold the blanket over both of them. “So what are you doing here? And are you regular Gwen or… Spider-Gwen?”
“Spider-Woman, thanks,” Gwen said. “Yeah, my world isn’t too different than this one, it’s just that I got bit and you didn’t. We were all good friends—you and MJ seem to be meant to be, because this isn’t the first time I’ve walked in on you like this—Peter, you were like the mission control, telling me what to do, hacking into things and saying big words, and MJ, you were this fearless investigator, finding out all the bad guys’ schemes…”
“Investigative journalist,” MJ mused. She shook her head. “I can’t see it.”
“Well, you were great at it. Then… you probably don’t remember this, but all the universes, they kinda got smashed. A bunch of them got put back together, but it wasn’t always… clean. I got stuck here. I managed to contact Madame Web—“
Peter rolled his eyes. “Bet that went well.”
Gwen nodded guilelessly. “As well as could be expected, I suppose. My home universe got merged with another. It’s fine, but there’s another Gwen now. I’m… surplus to requirement.”
Gwen’s stoic face held stricken eyes. Peter recognized the expression. She wanted to cry but the tears had been trained not to come out.
“So,” she continued with forced cheer, “I decided that since there’s no Gwen Stacy here, I could make a go of it. And maybe you could put me up until… things work out.”
“Yeah,” Peter said quickly, looking at Mary Jane to see she wasn’t warning him off. “Of course.”
“Great!” Gwen smiled. “I don’t have many things, but they’re all in the guest room. I guess I’ll finish unpacking. And I don’t know if you guys have this meme in your universe, but—“ She put both thumbs up. “Way to orgasm!”
***
Jessica Drew didn’t know how she blundered into it. It was foggy, she supposed, but she still didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until it was too late. Two people running across the rooftops. One of them clearly the Black Cat, with that white hair and those huge curves, but Jess thought she had switched to a white costume instead of realizing she was all but naked. And the other—she wasn’t used to Spider-Man’s new costume, but whoever it was was lugging something that was clearly stolen, a giant Buddha statue. Jess hadn’t asked herself how he seemed to be carrying the heavy stone statue like it was nothing, like it was one of those chocolate Easter bunnies that are hollow instead of solid all the way through.
She intercepted them as they ran between two big industrial air conditioners, blocking the narrow passage with her body. “Back to your old tricks, Felicia? I thought you’d reformed, again, but now I guess—“ Then she realized it wasn’t a new costume. Felicia was naked—absolutely naked—from her boots to her gloves. The little domino mask sat on her eyes, crowning her nudity, and as she looked at Jess, there was a naughty thrill in them, like Felicia was sharing a broken taboo with Jess.
Naturally, Jess was distracted. And while she was distracted, Spider-Man shot out weblines, catching her wrists and binding them to the air conditioners on either side of her. More globs of webbing hit her feet, sticking them to the ground. Jess was suddenly bound, spread-eagled.
Being a superhero always tended to involve some bondage and captivity, but it never felt as—illicit as it did with Felicia standing there, showing off her body like she knew Jess couldn’t look away. Who could?
Jess forced herself to face Spider-Man. “What the hell are you doing? You stole that, didn’t you? And with her? What, are you Bonnie and Clyde now?”
Spider-Man looked at her and even through his mask, there was a sense of menace—a lack of humor—that Jess had never experienced with him before. She was used to him always being the jokester, like he had been on the Avengers… even a little pathetic, the way he capered about like a court jester, while she and Luke and Cap and Tony—the grown-ups—had been the real Avengers.
Maybe it was the new costume, maybe it was the way he held himself, but he didn’t seem so funny anymore.
“I don’t think I like your tone,” Spider-Man said. “It’s not very appreciative of a guy who’s saved the city ten times. More, if you count all the times I saved the planet.” He glanced at Felicia. “New York is on the planet, even if it doesn’t seem like it sometimes.”
Felicia made a face and nodded. She didn’t seem at all embarrassed at being naked. She seemed to enjoy it, biting her lips as Spider-Man’s eyes obviously racked up and down her beautiful, bare body.
“Not to mention that your whole thing is just a cheap rip-off of me,” Spider-Man continued. “I mean, ‘Spider-Woman’? At least being a little creative with it. We’ve got a lot of genders nowadays to spice things up with. You could be Spider-Two-Spirit.”
Jess made her eyes go to the statue Peter had dropped to web her up. “That’s stolen property.”
“Yup,” Spider-Man said. “Took it off the Kingpin. I think it’s a self-portrait.”
“He also had this big white painting that looked very avant-garde, sorta like someone painted a white floor tile,” Felicia put in, “so we might go back for that.”
“You can’t steal, Spider-Man. You’re a superhero, an Avenger.”
“A reserve Avenger,” he scoffed. “They let D-Man be a reserve Avenger…”
“It’s corrupt!” Jess insisted. “People won’t tolerate it!”
“The same way people didn’t tolerate Captain Marvel throwing people in Gitmo for no reason? Or Captain America killing people when he decides he kills people?” He crossed his arms. “Face it, we had this whole to-do about accountability. It put Norman Osborn in charge of the country. The new deal is that we save these people from all the aliens and demons that want to kill them, then we do whatever we want, because there’s no other reason to help them, really. I mean, we’ve got assholes lining up to guard the concentration camps they want to put the mutants in. Maybe if they love being normal so much, we should let them be normal all the way up until the Skrulls show up and make them nice, normal slaves.”
Jess was aghast—her mouth hanging open, unable to formulate a response when she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. When had Spider-Man gotten so cynical? She’d always known he’d had a dark sense of humor, but this was… It felt like she was talking to a completely different person.
“You don’t mean that. You need help, Spidey. Something’s wrong with you.”
“Me? Have you noticed how you’re dressed?” Spider-Man stepped closer to her, looking over her new costume. A black bodysuit with arms, chest, gloves, and feet showing miniscule traces of her trademark red and yellow color scheme. “I’m no fashion plate myself—well, actually I think I have a real pretty costume, but I had a clone who dressed worse than Daredevil, and we all know his deal. My point is, look at you. You used to have such an eye-catching costume. Now you look like Black Widow spilled some paint on herself. At least she shows some cleavage.”
“You’re sick—” Jess began, but Peter stopped her, digging his splayed fingertips into the cleavage of her costume. Jess felt an odd tingle and realized that whatever subatomic attraction held him to the walls he climbed on, it was now sticking to her chest.
“I loved that little yellow hourglass. Really popped, the way it went down between your breasts and glided down your stomach. Went right down to your cunt, as if anyone wouldn’t look there.”
“I know I would,” Felicia purred. “Looked superhot.”
“Let’s try it with this costume.”
Spider-Man ripped a huge swath out of the skintight fabric, baring her skin from her clavicle down to her lower belly. Jess squealed maddeningly, even as she clenched her teeth shut to try not to. With the enormous tear down the front of her costume, her nipples were barely covered by the frayed sides of the gap, while her black pubic hair was visible at the very bottom of the opening.
“Hey,” Spider-Man cooed, “maybe that boring-ass costume is maternity wear. Didn’t you get pregnant a little while back? Your tits do seem bigger. Maybe that’s why you’re being such a bitch. You’re under a bit of… pressure… so to speak?”
“I could help with that,” Felicia offered. “Cats love milk.”
“Maybe,” Spider-Man considered. “Then again, we are both Avengers. Maybe we should keep this in the family. How about it, Jess? Does teamwork make the dream work? Or would you rather trust to Cat’s expertise with big ol’ titties?”
A. Spider fucks Jessica himself.
B. Spider has Black Cat fuck Jessica.
Comments
Shendude
Oh. Yes.
Good stuff.
