mobofair
patreon
Ending At Beginnings Chapter 6
🕑 Added 2020-01-18 20:07:55 +0000 UTC
Gwen Stacy was a golden-haired blonde, so it surprised Mary Jane a little that her pubic hair was darker in color. She was certainly a natural blonde, but her muff was pale and light, not quite as luscious as the mane on her head.
The hairs were compressed tightly around her slit—she had a narrow, tender-looking pussy, with pink-petal labia lips, slender and delicate. Something about its gentility drove Mary Jane almost to punish it. She gave Gwen finger after finger, wanting to see how many she could take, with Gwen both welcoming and protesting. It made sense: Mary Jane knew she was good, but Gwen was a virgin, and there had to be some pain to go with the pleasure Mary Jane was giving her.
Though she wasn’t trying to damage her—they were friends even more than rivals—Gwen’s hymen finally broke under Mary Jane’s testing. Gwen nearly fainted when she saw the blood, but Mary Jane soothed her, the irrational fit of pettiness forgotten, and she wiped away the blood and let it be something primal, natural, smeared on their thighs and fingers and lips as she licked Gwen, kissed her, licked her until Gwen felt something happening to her, something almost as frightening as the sight of blood.
“Oh my goodness!” Gwen gasped, wanting more of it, scared by how she wanted so much more of it, but wanting it all the same… determined to get it. Then, as her eyes locked with Mary Jane’s, it was hers—overwhelming and yet all hers. “It feels so nice…”
“Of course it does,” Mary Jane grinned. “Why do you think your mom told you not to do it?”
Gwen smiled understandingly; the grin shook as she caught her breath. Her parents never seemed to like her enjoying herself. It was like they thought only bad people did things for pleasure. But that made no sense to her. Gwen knew she was a good girl—good grades, good morals, good looks even—so didn’t all that goodness merit feeling good too?
Letting Mary Jane… do that was the best feeling she’d ever felt in her life. It felt so good that it had hurt a little. Maybe that was what her parents were scared of. But it was worth the pain to feel that way.
Gwen was surprised to find tears at the corners of her bright eyes. She wiped them away. “I didn’t know it would be like this,” she said softly. “I thought it would just be… fun.”
“It was fun, wasn’t it?” Mary Jane teased, stroking Gwen’s soft breasts.
“Fun? It was the most fun I’ve ever had in my life!”
“Better than Peter?” MJ asked casually.
Gwen couldn’t seem to untangle how Mary Jane felt about him. At some times, she seemed to resent Gwen, like she had stolen Peter from her—other times, it was like she was pushing them together and Mary Jane was happy to have Peter off her hands.
“We haven’t…” Gwen began. “Oh, MJ, I don’t know what to say. You must think I’m awful—doing this when Peter and I… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Relax, Gwendolyn, gorgeous. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in college. We’re supposed to make mistakes.”
“Was this a mistake?” Gwen asked seriously.
Mary Jane’s lips twitched, like she wanted to laugh at Gwen’s solemnity, but then she forced herself into a more neutral expression. “No. It was more like… an experiment. And if anyone wouldn’t mind that, it’s Peter.”
“I suppose,” Gwen said. “It’s not like we’re all that official. Sometimes, it’s like he can’t get enough of me, but then he’s off somewhere, not giving me the time of day…” Gwen squirmed, feeling another of Mary Jane’s caresses. She looked at the redhead—so beautiful, so sexual, and so cute on top of all of that.
Sometimes, Mary Jane and Peter seemed to fit together as Peter and Gwen never could. And why not? Both of them were equally unpredictable. Maybe those jagged edges of theirs clicked together.
“Was it good?” Mary Jane asked her. “Did you enjoy it? That’s all that matters.”
“You know I liked it,” Gwen said, almost accusingly. “You made me want it more than… more than I’ve even wanted Peter.”
“Oh,” Mary Jane said quietly. “Then you don’t want Peter… that bad?”
“I haven’t exactly been in this situation with him. Daddy would never let me have a sleepover with him the way—“
“The way we’re having a sleepover?” Mary Jane teased. “So if he started having his way with you the way I just did, you’d… respond?”
Gwen pouted—not the sardonic taunt Mary Jane employed, but genuine hurt. Her emotions always so close to the surface; the big-eyed, wobble-lipped surface. “Now you’re making fun of me.”
“I don’t mean anything by it.” Mary Jane petted Gwen’s tawny arm. “I know I’m a party girl, but I still don’t go to bed with people unless I like them.”
“I know you like me, MJ, but sometimes I feel like you resent me too.”
“Maybe. But I am an actress. We’re complicated.”
“I thought you were a model. Models are simple.”
“Mmm. Maybe that’s why I’m having trouble finding work.”
Gwen seized on what seemed like a Freudian slip, her eyes lighting up. “Is that what you’re mad about? That I don’t have to work?”
Mary Jane sighed. “No. Nothing like that. You’re great, Gwen. You deserve everything you’ve got.”
“So what is it?”
Mary Jane leaned close to her, close enough to whisper in her ear. “Maybe it’s that I just made you come like a burst water main and you haven’t done anything to return the favor.”
Gwen smiled wickedly—a smile that weirdly seemed to fit on her angelic face. “Would you like me to?”
Mary Jane nodded. “Show me how your lips feel. Why should your boyfriend get to have all the fun?”
Gwen traveled down Mary Jane’s body, intent on reciprocating all the lessons MJ had just taught her. But, faced with Mary Jane’s scandalously shaven cunt, she paused. What had Mary Jane said about Peter? Why was he on her mind? It certainly couldn’t be that Mary Jane was jealous. She could have any man she wanted and she frequently did. Why would such a liberated woman be hung up on Peter Parker?
Gwen felt Mary Jane’s hand on her head, pressing downward. “Hey, I’m not Big Poppa Parker. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”
And Gwen went with the pressure of Mary Jane’s hand, prepared to lose herself in the simple, easy pleasure that was so different from her complicated relationship with Peter…
***
Mary Jane awoke soaking wet inside and out, sweat and other things—throbbing and clenching like her pussy had no business to be doing now that she and Peter were back in the swing of things.
Gwen Stacy. What in the hell had made her dream of Gwen Stacy? They’d been friends, of course, and rivals and—lots of things. It’d still been years and her life was far too precarious for her unquiet mind to have to dig up old ghosts for her to brood about.
There was no telling how Peter was taking not being Spider-Man anymore, him as bottled up as ever, their relationship still on thin ice with its newness and its strangeness. Sometimes she didn’t know whether she was dating half of Peter or Peter with some life-threatening illness finally cured. Peter wasn’t a superhero now, but she was still a superhero’s girlfriend.
There had to be someone she could talk to, someone who could share her perspective on what Peter was going through. Sue Richards? Maybe. Johnny Storm had dated enough women that Mary Jane could probably man a whole support group with them, but she doubted many of them had gotten to know him that well.
Sharon Carter? Pepper Potts? God, what was she, a military wife to an army of one?
Jarvis, maybe. He’d been with the Avengers so long that if he couldn’t help her, he certainly knew someone who could.
Thinking of Jarvis reminded Mary Jane that she was still… clenched, her sexuality shying away from the older man, thoughts flowing back to Gwen and just how beautiful she’d been. No. No way. Mary Jane considered herself as sex-positive as a cast reunion of Temptation Island and she still wouldn’t do anything horny with her dead frenemy on the mind. A cold shower was called for, pronto.
She’d gotten as far as opening the shower stall when there was a knock at the door. Heaving a sigh, Mary Jane turned the water off and threw on her terrycloth robe. If this wasn’t Steven Spielberg with a box of chocolate and a bouquet of flowers, begging her on bended knee to be in his next movie…
When Mary Jane opened the door, she could’ve fainted. Black top. Pink miniskirt. Green trenchcoat. Even that fucking hairband.
“Gwen…”
***
Peter couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone into the Baxter Building through Roberta the Robot Receptionist like a normal person—or as normal as anyone could be who had business with the Fantastic Four. He found that, according to Johnny’s summary, Reed and Sue had taken the kids out for McDonald’s—new Happy Meal toy—while Ben was off to knock the block off the Yancy Street Gang. Which left Johnny alone to have a spa day. Cucumber slices and chemical peels. Peter tended to shy away from both chemicals and things peeling, but then, he was pretty sure Johnny’d had a tumble with She-Hulk, so hate the game, not the player.
In a way, it was a relief to deal with Johnny—he didn’t think he could take Reed’s paternal wisdom or Sue’s mom friending at the moment—but on the other hand, Johnny was a good enough friend to see through his bullshit.
And Ben would probably just clock him for thinking about it.
“Look, I get it,” Johnny said. “Anyone does this long enough, they have their powers go a little screwy on them. It happens to a lot of guys.”
“They’re not ‘screwy,’” Peter insisted, “they’re gone. Off in this new twin of mine.”
“Long-lost relatives.” Johnny nodded sagely. “Also happens to a lot of vets. You heard what happened with Reed’s dad?”
HERBIE brought them a pair of mimosas, cutting Johnny off before Peter had to do it.
“When was the last time you lost your powers?” Peter asked.
Johnny screwed up his face. “Eugh… lemme think. Four years ago? Yeah, brought down to normal. Real paradigm shift. I have a lot of pick-up lines that only work if you can light your finger on fire. Really takes a lot out of my game when I’m just a himbo with eight-pack abs, not a himbo who can set himself on fire and fly.”
“So you get it,” Peter pressed.
“Not really. Somebody took my place on the FF, I found a nice girl who loved me for my eight-pack abs and not being on fire—it was a pretty chill vacation, all things considered…”
“You didn’t miss it at all? Going on adventures with Reed and Sue and Ben?”
“Of course I missed it—“
“So you understand. Some guy is off fighting crime, spinning webs—“
“While you’re at home with your supermodel redhead bae. Awful. Terrible.”
Peter scrubbed his hands through his hair. “But it’s not like I’m completely useless.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I have skills. Experience. Who’s the new Iron Man, some six-year-old girl, makes the Young Avengers look like Baby Boomers? If she’s out there, how can I not be?”
“Because you don’t have any powers.” Johnny slurped on his straw. “And there’s someone else doing your job exactly the way you would do it. I mean, c’mon, dude, when are you gonna stop, when there’s no crime in the entire city?”
“That’d be a good stopping point, yeah.”
Johnny sighed. “See, this is when you go into therapy, not when you add a mind-altering alien goo to the equation.”
“I’m not saying I’d just throw it on,” Peter protested. “It’s in case of emergencies. Spider-Man… the other Spider-Man… he still has my face under that mask. And I have enemies who already know who I am. What am I supposed to do if Norman Osborn shows up at my house for a fight? Swing a baseball bat at him?”
Johnny opened his mouth, finger raised, but nothing came out. He rubbed his chin instead. “That’s actually a good point.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m so used to Reed being smart-guy stupid that someone being smart-guy smart is sending me.”
“I’ll try not to take advantage,” Peter quipped.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to take a laser gun or vibranium gauntlet instead?”
“Not my style.”
“Okay.” Johnny took a deep gulp from his mimosa. “What about Iron Spider?”
“Iron Spider?” Peter’s brow wrinkled. That was ancient history—so long ago Peter had to think hard to be sure Johnny wasn’t referring to some obscure supervillain. “Do you mean the Spider-Slayers?”
“No, that suit Tony Stark gave you right around when Mommy and Daddy started fighting.” (Peter didn’t ask if he meant Reed and Sue or Tony and Cap.) “Irontech suit made Tony into a Thor-punching superman. C’mon, it has to make you a superhero again, without getting goo in your… places.”
Peter was brought up short. He hadn’t thought of that. Venom seemed a much more permanent fixture in his life than the Iron Spider suit, but, with some modification, he supposed the Iron Spider could replace his natural abilities instead of supplementing them. He wouldn’t be as fast or as strong as he’d been with both—no punching out Galactus for him—but it’d let him wipe nine out of ten leers off Norman Osborn’s face. Maybe Johnny was onto something about smart-guy stupid.
Then Peter shook his head. “No, no, wouldn’t work. You said it yourself, the SHRA. I know we all buried the hatchet, but—you really want me to go to Tony, hat in hand…”
“Well, it’s more like a holographic, AI Tony with brain patterns…” Johnny waved his hands. “I don’t know, man, he’s still in a coma, no brain activity—“
“That explains the six-year-old successor.”
“But the hologram is nice,” Johnny stressed. “Nice Tony, not Tony-talking-about-the-future Tony.”
“I start wearing Tony’s tech, I’ve got to worry about all Tony’s problems. Being hacked, being sabotaged—“
“Didn’t the symbiote run away from a lighter once?”
“It was molting,” Peter said. “They only do that once every fifty years.”
“How often do they eat people?” Johnny asked. “Because if it’s more than never…”
“Iron Spider suit has an AI in it,” Peter pointed out. “AIs go crazy, try to kill humanity. Happens all the time. They made six Terminator movies.”
“Only two of them count,” Johnny retorted. “Look, the hologram’s beamed in to do some experiments with Reed, he’s set up in Lab B, why don’t you just talk to him? If you can’t come to an understanding, then I’ll give you the symbiote. He’s in this vial thing, so you can literally break glass in case of emergency.”
A. Talk to Tony.
B. Go for the symbiote.
Comments
Shendude
I love this. Everything in it is great.
