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Peter Parker: King of Wakanda update
🕑 Added 2019-04-01 21:00:02 +0000 UTC
Peter awoke suddenly, having a reflexive panic. In his dreams, he’d been with Aneka and Ayo again, the ecstatic tension of Ramonda in the next room, about to discover them—but no, he reminded himself of what had happened last night. Aneka and Ayo had melted into the shadows with all the skill he should’ve expected from the Dora Milaje, and he was left alone with Ramonda to sleep… pretty much normally. Now he was awake, the smell of pancakes and bacon and eggs fresh in the air, and Peter felt his stomach rumbling. Wakandan cooking was good, but it just didn’t agree with him the same way a Brooklyn pizza would, much less a home-cooked breakfast…
Getting up, he threw on a robe—when you were a king, people were big on robes—and walked into the kitchen of the royal apartment. To his surprise, Shuri was there, wearing the usual out-of-place garb, a concert tee stretched almost translucent over her pert breasts, and jeans that were going ragged at the knees, not to mention the thighs.
Peter considered the usual moves: asking her what she was doing there, thanking her for cooking for him, all of that… but a small voice inside him whispered otherwise. Hadn’t he just had a threesome with two supposed lesbians? Hadn’t he fucked Monica Lynne inside out? Didn’t Okoye lick her lips every time she looked at him, her eyes pointedly rolling over his groin?
Hadn’t he outright plowed Shuri to multiple orgasms, all while she talked international geopolitics over the phone?
Clearly, he was hot shit. Maybe it was time to start acting like it.
As the man said—it’s good to be the king.
***
As it so happened, Shuri was thinking of him as she stood at the kitchen stove. How could she not when plump sausages were bloating up on the skillet? Of course, she told herself, their fling never should’ve happened… she never should’ve compromised Wakanda’s interests by indulging herself that way. Even for her, it was just too much. She needed to keep a respectful distance, especially from this man who was technically an outsider, and she hoped that this kind gesture of fixing him a breakfast he was well-used to would help it go over easy when she explained that they were best as political allies, no matter how long and thick and…
As if on cue, she felt Peter’s hands circle around her, squeezing her breasts through her shirt. She was wearing no bra to dissuade his touch. “Breakfast looks good,” Peter said, massaging her throbbing tits in a way Shuri could never hope to replicate, rubbing the fabric against her sensitive nipples just right. “Think I might have seconds.”
Shuri giggled like a small child, her resolve to break things off with him immediately forgotten. Obviously he was in love with her, and how could she throw aside a man who could make her knees shake this way? Not to mention her pussy throb. Oh yes, Shuri had a very short fuse when it came to Peter, and all he had to do was touch her to light it.
“I thought you might be homesick, so I’m cooking a traditional American meal. I hope I got everything right.”
Peter smiled against her neck as he tweaked her hardening nipple through her shirt. “It looks delicious.”
“It will burn if you keep—“ Shuri broke off, feeling his burgeoning erection against her ass. Sweet Bast—and how could she be expected to give that up? Who knows, maybe this is one of my brother’s schemes and it was all about finding me a suitable match. Isn’t this boy Tony Stark’s son or something? That would make for a good prince. Although how T’Challa knew what a big cock he had, I don’t even want to know…
Peter sensed her amazement at his size as easily as if his spider-sense had gone off. “Then you’d better serve it up,” he said.
Struggling to gather herself, Shuri painstakingly shut off the burners and transferred the food to the plates she had ready—all the while Peter was caressing her breasts and maddeningly rubbing himself against her backside. Bast help her, a life of luxury in the royal palace had not prepared her to be tempted this way!
And the moment she’d set down the last crisp of bacon on its plate, Peter had spun her around and knelt down before her, working her pants down her legs. Shuri cringed and pressed her thighs together, though surely it would come as no surprise to him to find out how wet she was.
“I know you need to eat hearty to deal with the day’s business…” she began.
“I intend to,” Peter agreed, flexing his muscles only a little to force her thighs apart and skim her panties down to puddle in her jeans.
Shuri forced the remaining words out, “But you can’t have enough time for both me and breakfast.”
Letting out a small laugh, Peter picked her up in his strong arms, leaving her jeans and panties on the floor, and carried her toward the bedroom. “I’d rather have you.”
Shuri found herself wondering what T’Challa would say if, instead of his usual broken white boy, she had her pussy broken by this white boy. It could well serve him right, being too clever for his own good, setting her up like this instead of just telling her he’d met someone she might like.
Lord, what would T’Challa say if she got knocked up? She wasn’t even using protection—she’d never expected someone to come into her life and be so… Peter.
Peter dropped her on his bed, the sheets and covers having made themselves, erasing all the mussing of his tryst with the two Dora Milaje. Shuri felt herself moisten as he stood over her, ripping his robe away. It was the first time she’d seen him naked, and it lived up to the bare cock she’d experienced before—firm, compact muscle, coupled with his pale, exotic skin, his lithe and nimble physique…
“Your breakfast’s going to get cold,” she said, in one last pro forma appeal. She’d walked into his quarters convinced of the wrongness of all of this, and now she was giving into it all over again, unable even to muster up the conviction that this would be the last time. It was like she'd become an addict…
“You guys have lasers and hovercraft,” Peter said, bending over her. “You don’t have microwaves?”
Shuri twisted around, showing him her ass, wordlessly offering it to him as she nestled up on her hands and knees. She didn’t know what he would do with it, but she was creaming just from giving it to him. Just from being his.
And she’d thought she was smart. Her brother was clearly a mad genius for coming up with this.
Peter groped her ass, caressing her naked cheeks in sheer lust, marveling at how the flesh bounded up after he squeezed it. “Shuri, you know what I wanna do now?”
Shuri laughed. “I’m getting a few ideas.”
Peter spread her buttocks apart, peering at her anus, running his thumbs across it to even pry that tiny sphincter open. “I wanna fuck your ass!”
Shuri’s asshole clenched despite his opening of it, the strain making her tingle inside her rectum. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.”
Shuri gave the matter some thought, though she was already crawling forward on the bed, setting her upper body down so her breasts were almost squashed flat on the cool bedspread. She wiggled her hips in open invitation.
Peter got onto the bed on his knees, then buried his face between the rolling hills of Shuri’s ass. Shuri cried out as she felt him kiss her asshole, his tongue buzzing into her rectum. “Lord! That feels good!”
“How do you think my cock’s gonna feel?”
“Let me find out. Fuck me, baby!” Shuri begged. “I want your cock in my ass! I want you to fuck my ass!”
Peter was unmoved by her pleas, rubbing his cockhead up and down the vale of her ass, pressing her buttocks together to squeeze his knob inside her warm flesh. Shuri sobbed as she felt the still-greater warmth of his cockhead blazing between her asscheeks. It was a cry of joy, however. She’d rarely felt anything so good as the feel of Peter’s cock against her anus, threatening as it was.
“Please hurry!” she pleaded, now totally unembarrassed. “I’m so goddamn hot now! Fuck my asshole! Rip it open! Fill it up with that sweet cock! Fuck my ass right now!”
Peter’s thumbs and fingers dug into the perfectly shaped mounds of her ass, gripping them tightly as he spread them far apart. His hips eased forward—Shuri trembled as she felt his swollen cockhead against her tender asshole. One touch and she knew it was there to stay for the foreseeable future. Peter exerted himself, beginning to drill his knob inside her, and Shuri’s sex clenched as if it were the one getting filled. Shuri couldn’t help herself—she gave a squeal as Peter applied more pressure, but not enough, not nearly enough to invade her tight sphincter.
“More! Come on, white boy! I want a fuck, not a massage!”
She could hear Peter snicker lightly. “Okay, princess. You asked for it.”
He rocked his hips forward—Shuri felt her anus giving, opening for the tip of his prick. Her hips trembled and she couldn’t hold herself back anymore. Knowing it would hurt, she shoved back against him even as he pressed forward.
His swollen cockhead pushed into her anus, stretching it, so much pain that it felt like she was being split open. But as his smooth glans lodged inside her, the sensation became one of rapture. She was being opened, being filled, but it felt good—her cunt was throbbing, her clit was swelling like it would burst. The bedspread he was jamming her into no longer felt cool. She reached out to grasp the latticework headboard, tightening her fingers there until the knuckles were white.
Shuri closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, knowing the pain wasn’t over, that she had just survived the first pass. “Okay, boy, now you’re in my ass! So do something there! Don’t you see a tight round ass like mine and want to fuck it?”
Again, Peter grinned, staring down between the rounded cheeks of her ass to where her crinkled anus was gripping his length below the collar. It was one hell of a sight, and reassured him that Shuri could take his cock without the unbearable pain he had feared inflicting on her.
He snapped his hips forward, plunging into her hard.
“Ahhhhh!” Shuri yelled. Peter was filling her ass more than she’d thought possible, but she had more room than she’d thought possible too. He was stretching her so much further than she thought she could go. It was like he was taking her virginity, but worse—turning her into a slut—the kind of woman who was fucked up the ass. But she’d always been that, hadn’t she? She’d wanted this, after all… and she still did. No matter how it hurt, she wanted his cock in her ass. She wanted him deeper in her ass.
“Ohhh, Peter!” she cried out. “That’s perfect! Your cock is filling me up! It’s filling me! Fuck me, Peter! Yes, Bast, fuck my asshole!”
She felt Peter’s balls smash against her, the splayed cunt that his sodomy had made so hot and so tight. She was so wet with seeping juices that his balls were covered by them. Peter gripped her hips inescapably tight, watching his cock disappearing into her rectum.
“Oh, yes! Shit, yes!”
“You’re so tight, Shuri!” Peter groaned.
“Fuck me anyway! Fuck all the tight out of me! Fuck my hot fucking ass until it’s as loose as you made my cunt!”
Peter let out a shrill laugh, more out of disbelief of what she was saying than finding it humorous. Shuri could relate—she felt hysterical, like she could laugh a jackal’s laugh.
Peter began thrusting into her, fucking his cock in and out, using her ass just as he’d used her cunt after taking possession of it—and knowing just what to do. That was the real mastery, Shuri thought as her eyes rolled back into her head. Any man could push his cock into her hole… and probably a good deal easier, since few were as big as Peter was. But Bast, the way he lunged into her, each one making her tremble with more ecstasy.
The pleasure increased with the friction of Peter’s cock rushing through her tightened ring, burning her, setting her on fire with both pain and the wonderful feeling of fullness that grew and grew. It felt like he would wreck her asshole, but as long as she kept feeling his hard cock inside her, Shuri could not bring herself to care. She was wetter than ever now, his balls moistly slapping against the swelling lips of the cunt he had already conquered—that felt like it was on fire already, her clit tingling harder than ever. She writhed bodily, humping rhythmically to match the thrusts he was giving her.
“Deeper!” she cried. “All the way inside me! All the way to my throat!”
Peter grunted hard and forced his cock as far into Shuri’s bowels as he could make it go.
Shuri screamed, but not in pain. In encouragement. “Shove that cock up my ass! Pound the shit out of me! Peter! Peter! Fuck my ass! Fuck me and fuck my asshole—it’s wonderful—wonderful the way you… fuuuck…”
Peter thrust into her faster and faster, his cock throbbing harder every time it defied the tightness of Shuri’s gripping, flexing anus. His balls were dripping with the wetness of her cunt and swelling with cum, making him grit his teeth to keep it all in his tingling groin. He couldn’t come yet. He needed to feel more of Shuri’s fiery tightness. He needed her asshole around his cock for a long, long time.
Shuri was sweating hard with the pain and ferocity of the sex. Her white shirt, the only thing she still wore, was soaked through and her dark skin was coated with a fine sheen, making it glimmer. Peter approvingly noticed the contrast between the dark, dampened fabric and her glistening skin, reminding him that he had reduced the cool, poised princess to nothing more than animalistic pleasure.
“More! Give me more!” she howled, swelling his pride as she proved his point.
He grunted as he gave her his cock, hard and fast, Shuri lifting her ass, shaking wildly and wailing with the intensity of what she was feeling.
“My cunt! Peter—nn—you’ve got my cunt so fucking hot! I’m going to come!” She let out a scream: “Your fucking cock in my ass is going to make my cunt come!”
“I don’t care where you come,” Peter groaned. “Just come! Fucking come!”
“Rrr… rrhn… YES! I will! Fuck, I’m going to come soooo…”
The rest of Shuri’s words were lost in the squelch of Peter fucking into her anus with brutal force, unable to stop himself when pistoning into her ass felt so good. He was driving his prick deep into her bowels, widening her asshole to a size it had never been before, and as Shuri’s mind went blank, she nonetheless screamed. Her cunt felt like it was exploding. Her asshole was gripping Peter’s cock so tightly he couldn’t pull out. It was like, in Shuri’s rippling orgasm, her ass was sucking his cock.
“Shuri! Hhn! Shuri!”
Shuri was mindless now, concerned only with pleasure, her body shaking, her hair flying about her contorted face. “Come! Come in me! Drown me with it! Flood my fucking ass with your cum!”
Peter couldn’t resist even if he wanted to. Her asshole was tighter on his cock than her mouth or pussy could ever be. He grunted harshly and came, gushing against the trembling walls of Shuri’s rectum. She felt it, the thick, leaden flood splashing inside her, and her orgasm redoubled itself, bringing her back to consciousness only to smash her out of her mind again.
Peter’s spurting cum were filling Shuri’s nude body with mindless joy, just as he was filling her ass with his seed, and she burned and melted and exploded as Peter was doing inside her. She was one with him, part of his all-consuming orgasm, and as her toned arms strained with their handgrip on the headboard, she actually rent the metal in two.
Peter slumped against Shuri’s back and the soggy tee she still wore, gasping and heaving along with her, his warm breath still cooler than her burning flesh. Shuri could hardly breathe, but not because of Peter’s weight on her. Her asshole was still awash with the feeling of his cum entering it and being inside it. She quaked with the glow of pleasure, unable to stop trembling even as Peter’s cock deflated to give her nothing to clench around.
“Ohhh, Peter!” Shuri breathed, her kneeling legs slipping out from under her as she sank into the mattress until she nearly passed through it.
Peter took a deep breath, then lifted himself off of her, watching his cock slide out of her ass. He chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Shuri asked, relaxing even more without his prick in her, until she was a boneless heap on his bed, her asshole spread open and frothing with his seed.
“Nothing. I’ve just always been a breast man. Now I think I know what black guys see in big fat asses.”
“If my ass is fat, it’s because you pumped it full of your spunk, player. And if I am ever able to move my legs again…” Shuri turned her head to face him. “We will be doing that very often. But for now, I think you’d better attend to your other duties…”
***
Peter was most definitely not hot shit.
Shuri had told him this was to be a minor legal matter, hammering out a few details of a treaty with Everett K. Ross, the American ambassador—but Peter couldn’t make heads or tails of it. It was all legal jargon and percentages and court cases he couldn’t begin to remember. Not to mention he was negotiating against the US of A, which felt even wronger than the time he had fought Captain America. Shuri—who was pointedly standing—was reeling off legalese as fast as Ross could, when she wasn’t flashing him discreet smiles like she couldn’t wait to get him alone, but Ross was saying stuff like “if we can’t clear this up, the treaty cannot go forward” and Shuri was insisting “that is simply unacceptable.”
“Okay, are you sure we’re talking about the same subclause here?” Ross asked, digging into his briefcase. “Because either you’re taking its language wildly out of context or—“ He flipped through a few papers. “I don’t have it… must’ve left it in my quarters.”
“I’ll get it!” Peter said quickly.
“What?” Ross asked.
Shuri repeated the same question in Wakandese. Even if Peter couldn’t quite speak the language, he more than recognized the inflection.
Peter jumped up from his seat. “I know where Ross’s room is. I’ll go get his packet and bring it back here while you two continue discussing your… discussions.”
“My king,” Shuri said confusedly, “there’s no need for that. I can send a servant to—”
“No, no, I insist!” As he spoke, Peter made his way as stealthily as possible to the exit. “A king is a servant of the people, after all, and I would never ask one of my people to do something I wouldn’t do myself, and anyway I have complete faith in Shuri here to continue negotiations in my absence, which won’t be long, I will be right back!”
He nearly broke out into a run as he reached the door. He needed a breather. Maybe a few minutes to Google some of this crap on his phone. Oh man, oh God—why couldn’t he have been in the Model UN back in Midtown High?
There—there was the door to Ross’s room. Peter went up and knocked. There was no answer. He repeated the procedure, at first grateful for the breather, but then truly concerned that no one would answer. There was no way he could duck out on affairs of state to do a simple milk-run and then fail at the milk-run.
Finally, Nikki Adams answered the door. It was plain to see he’d interrupted her right in the middle of… something. She was disheveled, panting like crazy. Her eyes were glazed over. Her skin was flushed and sweaty. And then there were her hands. They were glistening, dripping with some clear, sticky fluid.
“What is it?” Nikki insisted, standing there in a housecoat and apparently nothing else.
Peter made himself polite, as polite as possible, overbearingly polite. “Mr. Ross forgot a diplomatic packet. I came over to fetch it.”
Nikki took a deep breath, pushing her breasts against her housecoat. Peter couldn’t help but notice her nipples were erect. “Yeah, okay. It’s probably at his work desk. This way.”
Peter followed Nikki to a study, where he found Ross’s desk piled high with papers. He guessed none of them were too sensitive, left out in the open like this—with his own cabinet, all the important stuff was securely locked away when not in use. So he began scouring the documents, looking for a folder with some of the buzzwords he’d heard passing between Shuri and Ross.
He felt Nikki standing there, making sure he didn’t misbehave, but her aura was still buzzing with unsettled lust. She’d definitely been masturbating, and now all that unfulfilled energy was focused on him. Every time he looked in her direction, she was looking right at him. But, as if intimidated, she quickly shifted her gaze away every time their eyes met. Finally, she groaned aloud.
“You woke me up from my beauty sleep,” she said laconically. “I need to get back to bed.”
“Oh, do you work nights?” Peter said pleasantly.
“I wish,” Nikki muttered.
***
Nikki’s legs shook beneath, nearly making her trip as she walked hurriedly back to her bedroom. Once safely inside, she closed the door, leaning against it as if to somehow invest the door with staying close. Then she’d relished as long as she could stand. She undid her belt and threw herself onto the bed, her housecoat falling open to let her hands slide down her belly. There was no patience left in her. She had to finish herself off, now, right now, even with Peter still in Ross’s study.
She rubbed hotly between her thighs, her fingers dancing and fluttering as they ran over her labia and delved into her cunt. She tried to keep her breathing quiet, but that was impossible. Her lungs would only take air in swift, forceful gasps, and as she touched herself tiny moans of satisfaction would escape her clenching teeth. She sank her index finger into her cunt, first to the middle knuckle, then all of it, stroking and sweeping along her walls with it until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Then she started rubbing her thumb around her engorged clit.
“Mmm,” she purred. “Oh, ohh… yesss…”
She heard the front door open and close with a certain slam, and she knew that Peter was gone. No more need to keep quiet and hope he wouldn’t hear her heated, ceaseless moans. She threw her lips open and let out her pleasure.
“Yes… yes… YES!” she cried as she felt her pussy clench tightly on her thrusting fingers. She knew she was overdoing it, trying to make herself believe this was as pleasurable as she was making it sound, and it was better than nothing, but…
Nikki heard the door creaking open and she yanked her fingers away with a soft, wet squish. Peter was there—looking right at her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, blushing ferociously. “Do you need… a hand?”
At first Nikki wanted to throw something at him, push him out of the room, slam the door shut. But then a strange feeling crept over her. She wasn’t ashamed. Her lust wasn’t diminished at her. No, it was only increasing as he stared at her. She could feel his eyes crawling over her body, drawn to it like a magnet. She opened her legs wider, splaying open her labia with a tiny gasp—she could feel his eyes on his cunt, and it was so good, her sex sucking and rumbling and jerking and twitching with need. His breathing grew heavily uneven as he stared.
“Come here,” Nikki whispered, her voice burning out from her throat as she reached down to spread her pussy. “Fuck me. Oh Jesus, I need you to fuck me!”
Comments
Shendude
Man, this is so much fun.
Zhilbar
Just binged this story, and it's great fun. Such an enjoyable PWP idea, and I can't tell what would be funnier; if T'challa didn't plan this, or if he did!
