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Knock Knock update
🕑 Added 2019-12-12 00:00:00 +0000 UTC
To say Peter was taken aback was putting it lightly. He’d been winding down from his evening patrol, expecting nothing more from the night than trying to get enough of a signal on his TV to watch some mindless sitcoms and maybe falling asleep without too much insomnia. Now two of the most gorgeous women he’d seen in his life—a life that included Mary Jane Watson and Felicia Hardy no less—had walked into his apartment and propositioned him.
He actually felt sorry that there were two of them. Why couldn’t it have only been one? He knew what to do with one girl and he’d take either of them, but two… He had no idea. It was more than he could comprehend.
He stared at them as he poured coffee for the three of them, like he could figure it out if he kept staring at their voluptuous asses, their full breasts, to say nothing of the breathtaking spectacle of their faces. Both of them had the bodies of swimsuit models and the faces of classical paintings. It was too much. He would’ve been lucky to exchange two words with either one, but now they had forced his way into his apartment, acting as horny as sailors on leave.
“This is a joke, right?” Peter asked as he slowly regained his composure—what little he could possibly have of it when two raven-haired beauties were in his personal bubble.
(Maybe that was it. After an overload of blondes and redheads, the universe was balancing the scales with brunettes.)
“I mean,” Peter continued as he served them. “You’re friends with MJ or… someone, and they sent you to have some fun with me—not like that, not that it’s your job to… have fun… but just because you look the way you do, and it’s… and someone thought it would be funny to make me think that you want to do something with me when you don’t… clearly you don’t… don’t you?”
Maybe it was the Green Goblin. He’d figured out he could kill Peter with embarrassment.
“Thanks for the drinks,” Diana said simply and graciously. In fact, with such grace that Peter couldn’t believe her capable of any subterfuge whatsoever. So what was she doing here?
“What are you trying to pull?” Peter insisted. “Really?”
“You,” Zatanna said, just as simply. “As soon as we finish these drinks, we’re going to pull on you, and rub you a little bit—just until you’re ready.” She winked. “Normally, just being here would have a man ready, but you seem to be in a bit of a mood.”
“Maybe we caught him at a bad time,” Diana suggested.
“How bad a time can it be? He’s about to have a threesome with two perfect tens. Which makes this, what, a twentysome?”
“Don’t underestimate Peter,” Diana cautioned her friend. “You never know just how ‘ready’ a man can get…”
“He must get really ready if he’s the best fuck in the city. I’m expecting him to make this a thirtysome—maybe a thirty-twosome, but only if he has lube.”
Peter’s erection was about to unload in his pants. Hearing them talk about him like a gigolo they’d hired for the evening was like ASMR for his dick.
“Hey, wait a minute!” Peter protested, his ears burning.
“Of course,” Diana said assuringly. “That’s about how long it’ll take to finish our drinks.”
“Maybe you should put a little Irish in yours,” Zatanna suggested. “You may need some liquid courage for tonight.”
“What happens tonight?” Peter asked.
Then he lost his voice altogether as Diana walked toward him, all of her swaying, all of her ripe, until she was close enough for the tips of her breasts to touch his chest. She preened slightly, rubbing her nipples brazenly across the front of his shirt, then she reached down and grabbed between his legs. He made it easy for her to hold onto him, his cock tenting out his pants until they were skintight against his ass.
“We see just how much pussy the best lover in the city can handle,” Diana breathed. “And it looks like you’re ready for mine right now.”
Bending down to his lesser height, she kissed him lightly, then stepped back to sip her drink, watching him over the tilted mug. A drip of mocha latte escaped her lips, running down her throat and into the fantastic cleavage revealed by her dress. Peter licked his lips as he watched it disappear into the shadows of her clothed body. If she was only teasing him about having sex, it had to be against the Geneva Convention.
Zatanna cleared her throat. Peter would’ve thought nothing could pull his eyes off of Diana, but something about Zatanna’s voice, the attitude of the sound, yanked his attention over to see that Zatanna was showing even more skin than Diana. Hell, Diana was quite a sight, but Peter was sure he couldn’t have overlooked the fact that Zatanna’s dress barely covered her nipples. It was like she had changed dresses while he wasn’t looking—like magic.
He looked back at Diana in time to watch as she ran a finger between her cleavage, wiping up the errant drop of coffee, then sucking it off her forefinger. Peter couldn’t imagine handling being that finger. How was he supposed to handle Zatanna too?
Maybe they wanted to take turns. That seemed like it would only leave him in a coma instead of dead of a heart attack.
“Who needs a refill?” Peter asked with a calmness he didn’t feel. He had to put on a brave face; couldn’t let them get the upper hand. Fuck, they’d come to him. That meant he had home field advantage.
Zatanna handed him her half-empty mug, then looking into his eyes with her own dark, fathomless irises and started pulling at the hem of his shirt.
“We both need to be filled,” Zatanna whispered. “And refilled, and filled again. No offense, but we wouldn’t be here if we weren’t desperate.”
“But as long as we need it,” Diana said, “we want the best. You’re going to give us the best. You’re going to fuck us and keep fucking us all night.”
At the last minute, like some Hail Mary pass in his subconscious, Peter thought of the Spider-Man costume under his clothes. He was about convinced they really were Wonder Woman and Zatanna—how many women could there be who were half a head taller than him and built like Red Sonja?—but that didn’t mean he could give out his secret identity to people he barely knew, even if they were superheroes. What if they were like those Ultimates from that parallel universe? Complete jackholes.
“I…” Then again, how could he turn down the equivalent of a Sports Illustrated cover model and the Playmate of the Year? Peter was literally speechless. He couldn’t go one way or the other.
“Let me make this easy for you,” Zatanna said. “Sehtolc og ni eht repmah!”
Just like that, Peter was naked, his erection standing out from his bare crotch at its full ten inches, while the hamper jostled like it’d suddenly received new cargo. What that cargo was, was safely hidden under the lid. Peter sighed in relief.
“I don’t know if you made it easy for him,” Diana goaded gently, looking down his body. “That certainly looks very, very hard.”
“I’d like to see you do any better,” Zatanna retorted.
Diana only smiled. Then she spun around with the grace and poise of a ballerina, barely seeming hindered by gravity or physics as she spun and spun… and slowed, now wearing only a pair of star-spangled panties. Peter felt his jaw drop and his cock throb harder than ever.
“Show off,” Zatanna muttered.
Comments
Shendude
This is ridiculously hot, I love it.
