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Spider-Man: Tess Black
🕑 Added 2017-06-03 20:54:07 +0000 UTCPeter woke up with the kink in his neck gone and Mary Jane against his chest, under his arm. His spider-sense let him distangle from her without raising an alarm, and he circled his arms and shoulders a few times to confirm that the lingering aches and pains of his last fight had healed. It always amazed him how a good night’s sleep could help with that. He should use it more often.
He went to the bathroom, relieved himself, washed the sleep off his face, and brushed his teeth before filling a small glass with tap water and drinking it down. Not a bad start to the day, he thought, letting out a satisfied ‘ah!’ as the swallow washed down the dryness in his throat.
He tossed the rest of the water down the drain and walked back into the bedroom to find that it hadn’t taken long for his absence to wake Mary Jane. She was lying there in bed, the sheet drawn down so that it was only between her legs, and her hand down there as well, completing the outrageous pose as her fingers stirred and circled under the blanket.
“Do you know what day it is today?” she asked him, her voice thick with arousal.
Peter blinked. “Whatever it is, I really hope it come around more often.”
“It’s your birthday,” MJ said. “Get back into bed.”
“But we just… last night…” Peter said, a bit bewildered, a little out of practice. It hadn’t been long since he and Mary Jane had gotten back together, after all, and them splitting up hadn’t been long since she’d been dead.
Not that he was complaining. Last night had been great. Mary Jane going to sleep naked had been great. MJ waking up naked was even better. And Mary Jane touching herself while trying to tag him in to take over…
Well, he didn’t know what that was. His brain wasn’t built to compute that sort of thing. A hundred years of MJ and he wouldn’t be able to compute that. Making sense of it after being back in her life for two weeks was sheer impossibility.
Mary Jane’s masturbation only grew louder and more frantic as he watched, because he watched. “Oh yeah, Peter, come here. Get over here!" she cried, her little pussy beginning to throb and moisten the way it never had for anyone else.
Peter might’ve been neurotic, sometimes even a little tone-deaf, but he wasn’t stupid. "Okay, get your cute ass in the air," he said.
MJ yelped with joy and rolled onto her hands and knees, the sheet falling away from her perfect ass, the fine white skin begging for a groping hand or a stinging slap to give it a little color. Peter moved behind her.
"Didn't get enough last night, eh?" he said to MJ as he spread her silky pink slit and positioned himself against her.
"Tiger, I'll never get enough of your prick!" Mary Jane breathed, squirming in anticipation.
Peter leaned into her. The tight ring of her pussy resisted for a moment. Then yielded; four inches of his member squeezed into her tightly clasping channel.
"Oh, it's going in!" Mary Jane whined in delicious discomfort, pushing back eagerly. "Ohhhh, that's so damn good!"
"Ughhhhh," Peter said, stroking in hard, burying his rigid shaft to the balls. "Don't worry, red, I've been just as horny for your little cunt... I'll give you just the kind of hard fucking you like the best!"
Mary Jane gasped with excitement at her husband's words. She hadn't heard such dirty talk in far too long, and now she realized just how much she had missed it. “Peter, I've been needing this fuck for so long now! You're the dearest husband in the whole world. I love you so much, Peter!”
Peter shook his head at his wife's beauty as she contorted herself in an even more pornographic position, squeezing herself down against the mattress as her ass was hoisted into the air. Here she was, young and beautiful and famous, turning to him of all people for the sexual pleasure she so richly enjoyed. He couldn’t quite believe that he was the only one who could give her what he needed, but still, he allowed himself a surge of pride that he was who she had chosen to satisfy her.
Actually, his rutting thrusts were not so different from others Mary Jane had known—big athletes who would be shocked that Peter was more than their equal in strength and… size. But there were other vast differences in their styles. For one thing, unlike most jocks, Peter had seduced her instead of just shoving his cock into her with no foreplay.
Last night, at least, he had kissed her, petted her, fingered her, and then eaten her out, all before beginning to fuck her. And for another thing, while he fucked her, he talked to her and kissed her and played with her tits. Far too many men felt as if it were an act they were doing completely alone, and that all they needed from Mary Jane was her pussy. But it was not that way with her Peter, who needed her kisses and her loving, naughty words.
She let loose a string of them now. She’d been too exhausted to keep going last night—starting their fuck at midnight, she would’ve sang Happy Birthday if her mouth hadn’t been busy with one thing or another. Moans, sucking, things came up. By 2, she’d been too weak to continue, and Peter had taken that to mean they were finished.
Oh no. Mary Jane might’ve been contented, but she was far from satisfied, and a good night’s rest had revived her. Now she would finish what she started. As impossible as it was, the goal she’d set was for Peter’s balls to be empty for a month. In coming weeks, she wouldn’t mind failing there, but for now, she would be giving it the college try.
For Peter--he knew that his wife had been sexually frustrated for so long that it was as though there were a long series of pent-up orgasms which had just been awaiting release. And now those orgasms were shooting through her, making her body writhe and shudder. Even as his own ears burned, he tried to make it a little better: ”Unnnnhhh, Jesus!” he groaned. “You’re gonna make me come!”
“Yes, go for it, tiger!” MJ screamed. “Fuck me as hard as you can!”
Mary Jane put the lie to any edgelord bull about love just being pheromones, chemicals in the brain, sex just a meaningless assembly of opposing body parts. He got thirsty, he drank, he was quenched. He got hungry, he ate, he was full. But when he needed Mary Jane, he could never get enough of her. The more he got, the more he wanted. It was a delicious torment, a wonderful contradiction that concluding their sex would only lead to washing up together and eating breakfast together and talking together and wishing each other goodbye and thinking about her and reuniting after glorious, excruciating apartness. He needed more of her and he got more and more and more of her, whatever they were doing, wherever she was, just by having her in his life and knowing she loved him.
He came, filling her, warming her, feeling the flush of heat go through her body as if he’d woken her to the true passion he held for her. She moaned happily and kissed him, unable to say with words that she felt the same way, and he slopped his emptied prick from the saturated folds of her sex. A great, creamy flow of jizz flooded out of her and soiled the mattress. Cum ran off the edges and dribbled to the floor noisily.
“God, Peter!” Mary Jane breathed. “I could’ve sworn I swallowed a pint the other night, but then all this!” She couldn’t hide her happiness, even when she’d worked so hard to swallow instead of spit the other night, to prevent exactly this from happening. Looked like one of Peter’s birthday presents would have to be a new set of sheets. “Where do you keep it all?”
“Well, according to reliable sources,” Peter said, lying down next to her, “your purse.”
“Why is it you’re so much funnier with the mask on?”
“Stage fright?”
“Uh-huh.” Shuddering a little, Mary Jane lifted herself up off the bed. That would’ve been hard a minute ago, when it was so damn comfortable, but her own sweat on the topsheet was very motivating. “And now I need coffee.”
“If it’s my birthday, then I’m sleeping in,” Peter said, cradling his hands behind his head.
“You’ve earned it,” Mary Jane told him, slinking out to the kitchen to put on a pot.
“Join me?”
“Okay, but it’ll count as a combination b-day/Christmas gift.”
“Sounds about right.” He heard the coffeemaker starting up, grinding and dribbling almost obscenely after the soundtrack of the past few minutes. “So if we’re spending the day in bed, why do you need coffee?”
“Because we will not be sleeping,” Mary Jane said, coming back with two mugs. When Tony Stark told them he’d invented instant coffee, he meant it.
Peter took his cup and drank, enjoying Mary Jane lying in his lap, huddled around her cup of coffee for warmth instead of pulling the sheets over a single inch of her wonderful flesh. She watched Peter drink and ran a finger down his gulping throat.
“Peter,” she said. “It is your birthday.”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “But, you know, feel free to do this whenever.”
Mary Jane had a soft smile that she hid with her coffee mug. “Peter… it’s funny… all while I was gone, I was worried about you cheating on me. As if I couldn’t just come back to you…”
“MJ, I would never—“
“I know you wouldn’t ever. But you always have this effect on women, you’re totally oblivious to it, that almost makes it worse… and now you’re on the Avengers, and all those women are so—“
“Not you,” Peter interrupted. “That’s all that matters.”
“But it’s almost like I want you to. Just so it’s over with. Just so I know you’d choose me.”
“Mary Jane, where is this coming from? You’re back. I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just want you to try it with someone else. Just because it’s your birthday and you deserve to and I want you to come back to me. Because I know you’ll come back to me, no matter who you’re with. I just want it… set in stone or whatever.”
“Mary Jane, really, it’s not like I work at the Playboy Mansion. Even if I wanted to, there aren’t… most of the Avengers would probably knock my block off for even asking. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Like that’s ever what worrying is about,” Mary Jane said.
“Heck, I hear even Black Cat’s found someone new. There’s no one but you, MJ. And I don’t want there to be.”
“Okay, but promise me something. If it does come up… before the week is out… I want you to try it with someone else, without feeling guilty, knowing that you have my blessing. I know it’s a lot to ask, that it’s a strange, strange as fuck thing to ask… but I really think it would make me feel better, knowing that you’re not just faithful, but you actually really prefer me.”
“I do prefer—“
“So prove it,” Mary Jane challenged. “Like you could’ve with that private stewardess you told me about, or anyone else like that who just offers themselves to you. Please? Prove to me that I’m not making you miss out on anything? And if you do like it, maybe we can talk about some swingers thing, I don’t know…”
“Do you want some swingers thing?”
Mary Jane took his mug away, and set it with hers on the nightstand. “You’re right. What’re the odds that someone is going to open their legs to you on your birthday weekend? I just want that out there. Okay? That you can do whatever you want?”
Peter took her head in his hands. “Whatever I want?”
“Choose me,” Mary Jane said. “Choose me and let it mean something.”
Peter shook his head. “Babe, I love you, but you’re crazy. And I promise I’ll have sex with the next total slut I see.” He blinked slowly. “Well, hey…”
Mary Jane smiled. “I give you a hall pass and you’re still all over me. You don’t know how good that feels.” She bit her lip. “Fuck me like a stranger?”
“You go to L.A. for five minutes and you come back all kinky. Really makes me feel down about my hometown…”
***
Through her peep hole Felicia saw a tall, buxom woman standing on her front steps. She was quite a good-looking woman, wearing an emerald green business suit, carrying an attaché case, and looking as if she had something to sell. She had long, wavy dark hair, a straight nose, wide, thin lips, and a very strong set to her jaw. She looked to be four or five years older than Felicia. Felicia was just about to ask her how she had gotten up to the penthouse without being buzzed in, but then on impulse she opened the door and asked if she could help her.
The tall woman coolly looked Felicia over. Felicia was already sorry she'd opened the door, for all she had on was a robe, and panties and bra, and the disdainful gaze from her feminine caller made her feel quite uncomfortable. "May I help you?" she asked.
"Felicia Hardy?" said the statuesque brunette, pronouncing the name in a less than courteous manner.
Felicia squared her shoulders, drew her robe more tightly around her, and glared at the woman as she said, "That's right, and I'm very busy. Tell me what you want or take a hike."
"I'll leave soon enough, once I know I’ll be obeyed," the woman said, and suddenly there was such a… sheen of power to her that Felicia knew she had to be Gifted. Her skin was paler than Felicia had first registered, her hair dark, too dark, and her height a head taller than Felicia, who was tall to begin with.
Felicia backed away on instinct and the woman came in after her. It was her who closed Felicia's door, and then she looked about Felicia's living room, again with great disdain, and said, "Would you like more?"
"Who are you?" said Felicia, trying to hold her ground, but still backing up. "No… get out of here or I'll call the police."
The woman craned her head and the carpet under Felicia’s feet burst into flame. She had to throw herself clear. Without a change of expression, the woman said, "You may not disrespect me. I am Hela.”
"What do you want?" said Felicia, almost wetting her panties in her shock and fright.
The woman sneered and looked Felicia up and down, disrobing her with her gaze, and though Felicia stood proudly and tall before her, hot shame suffused her body. Shame and something else. "I want you to do something for me. Something that will restore me to my rightful place of power. If you do, I will reward you with sensation and substance and your life. I will show you the joys of servitude before we begin. Enjoy…”
Felicia felt a pulse go through, and that was her only warning. Then it was like she’d been teleported to the top of a roller coaster. She was filled to bursting with potential energy, throbbing with it, and she gasped as she crested, the unbearable warmth pounding throughout her body, making her come and come and come.
The woman laughed. Then she held out her hand, and Felicia meekly took it and was helped to her feet, for her knees felt so weak she could not have stood up by herself.
The woman peeled Felicia's robe down over her shoulders, nodded at what she saw, and gave Felicia's left tit a warm squeeze that made Felicia gasp.
"Very nice," said the woman, and peeled Felicia's bra strap down over her shoulder, pulled down the bra cup, and bared Felicia's tit. “Let me see if you can kiss as well as those lips promise."
Felicia's chin was tilted up by the grinning woman. The wide mouth that had kissed a thousand cunts was brought down on hers, and Felicia allowed the long, snakelike tongue of the woman to penetrate through her lips and tangle with hers.
"You have possibilities. Yes, I might stay here with you for a few days. Let's see what kind of a body you've got," the woman said. She proceeded to strip Felicia naked.
Felicia stood there and took it. She let the woman take off her robe and unhook her bra and when the woman knelt to strip off Felicia's panties, Felicia just stood there sobbing and quaking while the woman explored her body with her hands and commented on what she found.
"Good cunt," said the woman, running her hand between Felicia's legs, making her gasp through her panting. "Yes, you have possibilities. Now give me another kiss, and make it a good one, and then you can enjoy yourself some more."
Desperate by then, Felicia slung her arms about the neck of the taller woman and kissed her flush on the mouth. It was an open-mouthed kiss and quite an ardent one. Felicia was dizzy enough to stagger backward when the kiss ended, but Hela stopped her and held her in place.
“Good girl,” the woman said, and Felicia gasped with relief as at last her hot juices gushed and flowed.
The relief was a very real form of ecstasy, and then that was sharply altered when Felicia felt Hela's hand reach up between her legs and squeeze her hotly gushing cunt.
"I can’t take it—!" Felicia cried. The woman laughed and rubbed Felicia's juices up against her cunt, sloshing and splashing it all between her legs, and Felicia was so sensitive that she felt herself come again.
"Please! Please!" Felicia wailed, twisting about, quite unable to stop her squirting and unable to stop her totally unexpected orgasm.
"Feel good?" said the kneeling woman, slapping and rubbing the juices up between Felicia's widely parted legs.
"Please! Please! Please!" Felicia loudly sobbed, as her orgasm rose from her cunt to the roots of her hair, frightening in its intensity, frightening from its source.
The peak of it lasted till Felicia was empty. It still tingled strongly through her, weak and exhausted as she was, when the beautiful brunette who had brought it on stood up to face her.
"Answer me. Did that feel good?"
"Too much! It was too much!" Felicia sobbed, but she was crushed in the powerful velvety arms of the woman and very forcefully kissed on the mouth, electrifying her orgasm back into life.
It surged and roared through Felicia's body with such pervading intensity that she had to hold onto the beautiful woman. She clung to her and kissed her with utmost ardor, and now she was clinging to the orgasm, too, for there was no way in the world to fight it. It swept almost audibly through her, while the woman thrust her broad thigh against Felicia's flaring cunt, and while she held Felicia's chin with a hand that was wet with her juices.
She backed off, looked blazingly deep in Felicia's eyes and said, "Now tell me! Did that feel good?"
Still tingling hot with orgasm, panting and slack-jawed, Felicia nodded her head.
"There's the hand that did it," said Hela, and brushed her wet fingers over Felicia's trembling lips. "Kiss it and thank it, and maybe there'll be more."
"Thank you. Thank you," Felicia whispered, kissing those wet fingers, weeping silently now, and shamefully yearning for one more touch of that hand right now.
***
Peter loved Mary Jane, and if he hadn’t before, he certainly would’ve by midday. Mary Jane had planned a dream staycation for him. There was sex, breakfast, sex, lunch, sex, a nap that she took while he watched an episode of The Expanse off the DVR… sex…
The thing was, Mary Jane was an actress, a model, and there were certain things endemic to those professions, even in a woman who was overall as mature and responsible as MJ. So though she had admirably planned out various activities to keep the 2:00 sex from blending into the 3:00 sex, she had also failed to bake or otherwise acquire a birthday cake for him.
Another hallmark of her occupation was that MJ insisted, to a superstitious degree, that one be gotten. Not that Peter minded. Especially when MJ had several… appetizing ideas about how to eat a birthday cake. One with lots of frosting.
So while Mary Jane had another Expanse-nap, Peter put on the spandex and swung his way to grab a cake from the nearest bakery.
He didn’t quite think it was an accident. Mary Jane had been very adamant about him having a free pass to pork whoever he wanted, as if a guy like him hadn’t gotten massively lucky with her and would ever have sexpot after sexpot hanging off him to take advantage of. Yeah, and then he would hop into his private jet and race Tony Stark to Macao.
But, she was superstitious—or spiritual, if you preferred, which MJ did—so Peter swung out to get his birthday cake and give the universe a fair shot at dropping a horny hottie in his lap, as if she wouldn’t just bounce off him and land with Johnny or even Matt. He was not a chick magnet.
Then his spider-sense went off, almost painfully intense, but unspecific and almost inaudible, like a hum instead of a blaring klaxon. He looked around for the source and saw an open window on a nearby apartment building, which his spider-sense was pulling him toward like he was an iron filing and it was a junkyard magnet.
He landed on the windowsill, crouching to see inside.
The woman was tanned like an athlete, wearing brief white tennis shorts under a cool organdy paisley print blouse. The swirls in it were like ivory horns on a pale purple background and the see-through material gave a strawberry sundae effect to her eager young breasts. She wore her dark hair in a pixie cut while light blue eyes sparkled innocently in a face of classic Alpine beauty.
“Tess Black?” Peter asked.
It’d been a while. Weeks, at least, which was a lifetime in his world. She was an illegitimate child of Loki. When a fight with Dormammu cracked open the bottle on an ancient evil, Morwen, Tess’s demi-god body had been seized as a host. Peter had been part of that fight, so Morwen was on him. He and Loki had teamed up to exorcise the thing, and since then he’d been looking in on her from time to time, making sure her Asgardian genes weren’t getting her into trouble.
That blast of spider-sense hadn’t felt like the five percent of his life that wasn’t trouble.
“I remember everything,” Tess said, her voice slightly high-pitched and breathy, not the sonorous husk that Morwen’d had when she possessed her. “I’ve been traveling. Learning about my heritage, and the Nine Worlds, and my power.”
“Okay… just for the record, you didn’t happen to just raise the dead or anything just now?”
“I had to get your attention,” she said. “Now that I know the truth about who I am, I must preserve Asgard’s honor. I must thank you for your role in rescuing me.”
“Money would be fine,” Peter said, in no hurry to have another supernatural being owing him a favor. Loki was enough.
Tess smiled at him. Then suddenly she was in front of Peter, opening his fly, drawing the zipper down slowly and teasingly.
“Whoa, hey now!” Peter said.
“I get it from my father’s side of the family,” Tess said. She unbuckled Peter’s belt and the front of his pants spread open.
Peter was wearing white cotton shorts and they were molded to the outline of Peter’s stiff prick, stretched around the huge, mushroom-shaped knob and drawn away from Peter’s belly by Peter’s jutting erection.
“I really don’t want to think about your father right now,” Peter said. Maybe MJ was right. Maybe he did have women slobbering after him everywhere he went. Not that he cared or anything, but still. Nice.
Tess began to caress Peter’s cock through his shorts. A dark, damp patch spread out on the white cotton where Peter’s cockhead flared.
"Oooooh..." she murmured, seeing the moisture. She rubbed her thumb against the slippery patch, then traced up and down Peter’s shaft with her fingers. Peter groaned and twitched and the fat vein that seamed the underside of Peter’s cock pulsated against her hand.
She rubbed Peter’s cock and fondled Peter’s balls. Peter’s shorts were drawn out so far now that the elastic band was threatening to break. Tess slipped her fingers inside and slowly drew Peter’s shorts out over his throbbing prick, then drew them down. She tucked the elastic under Peter’s swollen balls, so that all of Peter’s formidable manhood was exposed.
“We can use my bed," Tess said with a big bright smile.
Tess grabbed Peter's hand and taking him down the hall to her bedroom. When they got there, Peter started fumbling out of his clothes as fast as he could, but Tess maddeningly took her time, sitting down to remove her shoes and stockings.
Peter, already naked except for his mask, flopped onto the bed and watched her with hot hungry eyes. She grinned naughtily at him as she reached around and unhooked her pink lacy bra. She drew it away slowly, and her pert tits wobbled out. She dropped the bra on the floor and hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her matching lacy panties. She began inching them down.
"Ah, not to rush," Peter panted, "but there’s this party I’m going to..."
"We've got plenty of time, darling," Tess said calmly. "it's no fun when you hurry."
Her panties were halfway down, the first light curls of her pussy popping into view. She turned a little and Peter next saw the firm little globes of her ass. Around she came, now showing her whole bush. It seemed to take forever, but finally the panties slithered down her legs and she stepped out of them.
She walked over to the bed, and Peter grabbed her and pulled her down beside him, pawing her hungrily. After a brief moment of kissing and caressing, he wiled her onto her back and started to push her legs apart.
Then to his annoyance she clamped her legs shut. "Okay, I’m picking up some mixed messages…”
"I want you," she purred, "but getting you is more than just fucking. There are so many nice things we can do to each other first. For instance, I could suck your cock."
That suggestion made his frustration go away, replaced by hot wicked lust. Peter rolled over on his back and motioned for Tess to take his cock. "If you insist," he told her as he drove forward to her mouth.
Tess gripped his prick at its base. Then he felt him slipping his slick cock in her mouth. He jabbed his thick rod into her throat mercilessly. She felt him driving deeper and she wondered how much of this she could take. The force of his thrust hurt her as he shoved against her throat. Yet it got him so excited that he seemed to be going out of his mind. Reaching down he gripped her head as he began pumping in earnest.
"You've got to suck my prick," he told her excitedly. "Suck it off. Come on, suck it."
Tess found it difficult to satisfy him, but she built up a rhythm as she went up and down on his slippery, long shaft.
"Now you're doing it," he exclaimed excitedly. "Suck, suck!"
She kept her mouth moving up and down his slick, hard shaft as he reached out to grip her head and guide her. It was painful as he rammed it down her throat and she could hardly breathe. Reaching out he gripped her tits. He pinched the nipples obscenely, enjoying the sight of her bobbing breasts as she sucked harder on his prick. The obscene words of "suck" and "eat my prick" got her excited as she closed her eyes and let him frantically fuck into her willing mouth.
"I'm real close to the edge," he said. "Damn close. Oooooh, that suckin' mouth of yours is driving me crazy!"
His hips shot forward, stuffing his prick into her face. He was out of control now. He couldn't stop himself from face-fucking her.
She didn't care. She loved it. The feel of his prick sailing into her mouth, past her soft lips, across her tongue, all of it was super for her. She kept up a steady, intense suction on the tip of his prick so that he would not slip free from her mouth.
Her tongue was pressed into the end of his cock when she felt the pin-prick hole expanding. His climax wasn't far behind. He jerked his cock from her mouth before the first tide of fiery jism erupted, but Tess didn’t even notice.
Morwen had been tricky before she left Tess’s body. She’d had no idea to be imprisoned beyond the reaches of time again. So she’d cast a spell on her host body. One that would surely go undetected by Loki and his paternal concern. The spell was tied to Tess’s sexual desire, something no father would want to learn of his daughter. As soon as it was triggered by the mystical energy of an orgasm, the spell summoned Morwen back from wherever she had been exiled.
Tess had spent a long time learning of her new powers. She hadn’t had much time for dating. Spider-Man was the first man she’d been with since she was possessed.
And just like that, Morwen, First Sorcerer of Chaos, once more had a body.
Peter came in her face. The white cum began dribbling across her forehead and down her cheeks.
"God, MJ had a point. She’s my girl, but I’m not cheating, she wanted me to… she’s great, but there’s something to be said for novelty. I bet if you ate caviar all the time, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich… not that you’re a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, you’re great, it’s just you’re also so… brunette.”
“This is… your seed,” Morwen breathed. “I have not had a physical body in centuries… not known the taste of love in eons untold…”
“Hey, you think that’s bad, I’m married.”
