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Spider + Cat + Redhead update
🕑 Added 2017-03-06 07:24:17 +0000 UTC The sun beginning to stream in through an opening in the curtains had awakened her, but Peter remained asleep. The room was heavy with the smell of sex, and Mary Jane could still feel her pussy tingling from all the excitement of the long night of lovemaking. It was sore, too, but that didn't really matter.Not now, anyway.
Right now it was enough to lie still and concentrate on Peter's sleeping form. He was naked, with only the sheet that was covering them both—covering all three of them—pulled lightly over him.
Felicia was still there, hogging the covers so they twisted around her, her body turned on its side and facing away from them, Peter’s left arm rolled under her body. Her own arms were cradled protectively around her pregnant belly, the sheet hanging off that, and it occurred to Mary Jane what a good mother she would be. As irresponsible as she made herself out to be, there was so much thoughtfulness cooked into her bones. A cat burglar’s caution, careful and precise. Already she was feeling for the baby, as much as she did for Peter and Mary Jane.
Ana was gone, though, as she’d left before, quietly in the night. A note was set in the usual place, and MJ took it that another hunt was on and she would be back in her own time.
Peter stirred in his sleep, automatically reaching for the warmth that had left him when Mary Jane sat up. She took his hand and brought it to her face, letting him feel her clear skin and soft flesh. Assured she was still there, Peter lolled back against his pillow.
Cautiously Mary Jane pulled the sheet back so she could see him. Last night she had been far more interested in feeling than looking, but now that he was asleep she found herself wanting to let her gaze run hungrily over every inch of his athletic frame.
Or at least that was what she started to do.
But as it turned out, she never made it past his cock. There was something about it that riveted her attention. It was limp now, lying softly between his legs, the flaccid shaft buried in his bristly brown hair. Even in sleep, it was large. So large as to be tempting.
Gently, being careful not to awaken Peter, Mary Jane began to move across the bed until she was poised just a few inches away from his crotch. Her lips were parted slightly, and without realizing what she was doing she licked them until they glistened wetly in the soft light.
A thought was on her mind.
She wanted to make that cock grow hard.
She wanted to watch it and feel it as it started out limp, then slowly came to life solely because of what she was doing to it. Vaguely aware of all this, but almost in a trance, she bent down until her lips were almost touching his manhood.
For a moment she didn't touch it, instead blowing lightly on the sensitive organ. Felicia, Ana, her, they had all taken their turns on it, guiding one another’s mouth to his cock when Peter wasn’t insistent enough to just jam himself down their throats—Felicia enjoyed that so much she even got off on MJ making her suck a strap-on. They’d gone after it together, sucking and licking and gargling his balls like a trio of nymphomaniacs, making him come so hard there was almost enough for all of them.
But now it was only hers.
Spreading her lips, Mary Jane allowed her tongue to dart out and lightly lick the sleeping cock. Nothing happened at first, but as she continued, running her hot tongue wetly up and down the length of the shaft, she began to sense a vague tightening. In his sleep Peter shifted slightly, causing Mary Jane to pull her tongue back and wait until he had drifted back off once again.
Satisfied that he was asleep, she once again began her ministrations, running her tongue up and down as she felt him grow harder and harder. There was something strangely mystical in the way the organ responded to what she was doing, stiffening while Peter was still asleep.
It was half erect now, and Mary Jane opened her mouth to take it between her lips. The skin was smooth, and as she began to slide her hungry mouth up and down the shaft Mary Jane could tell that Peter would have to wake up before long.
But it didn't matter.
Nothing mattered now except her mouth and his cock. Vaguely she could feel him stirring, but her concentration was devoted completely to the stiff rod that was filling up the inside of her mouth and forcing its way into her throat. It grew even larger with each downward thrust her mouth made.
The saliva was pouring out of her mouth now, and at times she had to fight to keep from gagging, but still she continued, licking and sucking with each stroke, driving herself down on the spear that impaled her. She could sense that his cock was glistening, and each time she drove all the way down she could feel her lips driving into the hot wetness of his wiry hair, spurring her on like a hot whip.
With a growing frenzy she shot up and down, and as she did, Peter began to drive his pelvis up to meet her. She could tell he was going to come soon, and with a sudden certainty she knew more than anything else that she wanted to take all of his cum inside her, not letting a single drop escape.
"Aaaaahhh..." he groaned, but she paid no attention. She had both hands working on his shaft as well as her mouth.
Peter began to pulse and tremble in her mouth. Frantically she continued to drive up and down until finally it happened.
His cock exploded.
The first wad of his jism slammed into the back of her throat, hot and sticky, followed by spurt after spurt of it.
Mary Jane stopped her strokes, concentrating now on swallowing his seed, tasting his cum as it flowed out of his cock and into her eager, sucking mouth and throat. It tasted salty, musky, heated.
She liked it.
Leaning over to Felicia, she gently brushed the girl’s white hair from her face, then tickled her lips until Felicia’s mouth opened. Then she kissed her, sharing the taste of Peter’s cum. Felicia liked it too, eagerly sucking it off Mary Jane’s tongue. The slurp she made was louder than Mary Jane had ever been on Peter’s cock. It was enough to make Peter turn his head.
He groaned. “I can’t believe I almost slept through seeing that.”
“Shh,” Mary Jane told him. “Don’t wake Felicia.”
Peter lowered his voice appropriately. “You’re lucky I’m not a screamer, then.”
“You’re a screamer when I want you to be a screamer.” Mary Jane crawled up the bed and back onto Peter’s chest, relishing having it all to herself, even if he had only one arm to hold her with—the other still trapped under Felicia’s weight as the cat burglar happily smacked her unconscious lips.
“Where’s Ana?” Peter asked, still yawning sleepily.
“Off. Another hunt, remember?”
“Oh yeah.” Peter rubbed his hair, patting down his wild bedhead. “Thought she’d want to say goodbye.”
“You don’t know her that well, do you?” Mary Jane kissed Peter’s forehead, hugging him tightly for a moment, then, moaning, she wrenched herself up.
“Nooooo,” Peter booed quietly. “Don’t go.”
“I’m hungry,” Mary Jane said in the same poutingly whiny voice.
“You just ate,” Peter told her.
She bopped his head. “Pervert.” She slipped out of bed, rotating her arms, then her waist. “You’re still my cuddle bitch, I’m just letting you off easy so I can make breakfast. Give me ten minutes, then wake Felicia. She’s pretty serious about keeping a regular diet. The baby, you know.”
“Uh-huh,” Peter said, watching her. “Can you please do that forty more times?”
Mary Jane cracked her neck. “I’m putting on a robe,” she said. “Honeymoons are one thing, but there are places I don’t want bacon grease.”
“Say, how many times did you blow me while I was sleeping? Because I had the weirdest dream last night.”
“Weirder than putting on skintight spandex and fighting a guy calling himself Doctor Doom?” Mary Jane reasoned.
“I was having sex with… Boom Boom, I think it was?”
“Oh, well, with a name like that, how could you not dream about her?” Mary Jane started for her bedroom. “Cuddle my other cuddle bitch, would you? She needs comfort to get over sleeping through the first blowjob of her married life.”
“Hey, it’s the first finished blowjob of my last month. If she wanted sex, she should’ve have talked you all into this weird Lent thing.”
“It all worked out in the end.”
***
Inside her room, Mary Jane was shocked to find that someone was sleeping in her bed. For a moment, she thought Ana hadn’t left after all, just relocated to a different bed for one of her own Lindelofesque reasons, but then she saw that the hair spooling out from under the covers was brown with a white streak.
“Fibe mor’ minutes…” the shape huddled under her sheets said, starting from her lumpen mass into a vaguely embryonic set of movements. With Rogue’s head poking out from under the blanket, Mary Jane let out a light “eek!” and covered herself with either arm, though that still left much to be desired in the censorship department.
“Wha…? Mi… Mary Joan…?” Rogue asked. The woman was not a morning person. While she was still out of it, Mary Jane hurried to her closet and picked up her robe off the door hook. It was only as she tightened the belt that she thought of how silly she was being.
All the depraved, delicious things she had done last night and she was worried about being seen nude? Not even by some stranger off the street, who’d probably’ve seen her plenty of times anyway thanks to some unfortunate streaking pranks and some risqué photoshoots that pretty much gave them all the information about her naked body that they would ever need. No, by Rogue, a good friend, a noble and heroic woman who had saved Peter’s life.
The irrationality of her embarrassed reaction reminded her of her excitement over the plan with Felicia to go into this marriage without clothes. It pushed the idea away from just being some naughty talk at night and into something that felt right, important even. She was going to have to share Peter with Felicia. And for that to work, a lot of the propriety, the shame, the hypocrisy of day-to-day life, it would just have to go.
But… what to do about their house guest? She certainly didn’t want to throw Rogue out on the street. The woman was adorable, a fabulous guest, eager to help out with all the chores. She voraciously devoured the books on the shelves, then eagerly discussed them with piercing insights. And when they watched a movie with her, she was nearly as much fun to watch as the screen—laughing uproariously at the comedies, hiding behind a hugged cushion during horror movies, virtually spooning Mary Jane when anything cute or cuddly was on. She was coming out of her shell with a vengeance, and Mary Jane saw no way she could be so selfish as to lock Rogue out of this odd little team they’d put together, just because she wanted her lovers all to herself.
Then again, Rogue was a mutant. MJ hated to stereotype, but everyone knew those X-Men were just a little more… something than other superhero teams. Maybe it was that they lived at a college. But the rumors flew about free love, group marriages, wife-swapping. Hell, Emma Frost lived there, and who knew what she had with Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Madelyne Pryor… Psylocke, for God’s sake! That woman dressed like an anime character, and not one of the animes without tentacles either.
So… maybe Rogue would be up for a little bit of something outside the norm.
Carefully holding her robe extra shut, just to avoid scaring the mutant off, Mary Jane sat down on the foot of her bed.
“Geez, is this y’r room?” Rogue asked. “Aww, heck, ah’m all kinds of embarrassed. Ah wasn’t thinkin’, ah just wanted a warm bed so bad… and ah shouldn’t have even been here when your nuptials was on, but one thing led to anuthur and ev’rything got so crazy! Ah gues’ ah just kinda… made myself at home!”
“It’s alright, Rogue. This is your home.” Mary Jane couldn’t think of why Rogue would’ve come back instead of crashing on a friend’s couch for the length of the honeymoon, as she’d thought the plan had been, but like so many things in her life, she chalked it up to superhero weirdness. Probably Rogue had gotten into a dust-up with Magneto, then been too worn down to sort out her sleeping arrangements. So she’d just gone to the first place she could think of. Perfectly natural and alright.
Besides, she was in no mood to sort out the particulars. Not on her honeymoon. Not when her body was burning to be naked. God, she was falling in love with the idea of showing off her beautiful body to her lovers every minute of every day. She hadn’t thought she could still feel so young, so wild!
“Sugah, that’s a mighty nice smile to wake up to!” Rogue observed, seeing Mary Jane grinning. “Wish it was for me.”
“It’s a little for you,” Mary Jane promised her. “After all, it wouldn’t be much of a honeymoon if you hadn’t gotten my husband to the church on time. Death tends to make him run late.”
“Aww, shoot, they don’t let you in the X-Men if ya let a little thing like that stop ya.” Rogue nodded her head, cheeks flushing as she got a little uncomfortable, just being in the presence of a newlywed. Even with her new control over her powers, it still felt like an unbridgeable divide, being able to let someone touch you enough to have a smile like that. “Jus’ lemme get dressed. Ah’ll be out the window quicker ‘n’ a coon with the dog barking.”
“Do you have to go? I was just about to make breakfast, and with Ana gone, there’s a seat at the table.”
“Ah wouldn’t want to intrude none.”
“You wouldn’t be. This is a family breakfast. You’re part of the family.” Mary Jane reached out and patted her knee reassuringly. One long leg of Rogue’s extended from out of the covers, and it was only by touching it that Mary Jane realized just how smooth it really was. “There was one thing I wanted to talk about with you first, though.”
“Yeah?” Rogue asked, sitting up, clutching the covers to her naked chest. Her hair fell around her face in a disheveled haze. “Ah’m all ears.”
“Well, it’s… it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but…” Mary Jane brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Here I am, blushing.”
“Jus’ put it out there, girl. Ya ain’t gonna shock me. Ah’m a virgin, not dead!”
Mary Jane smiled to herself. Felt a little like she was chatting up a gal pal back in college. Weird to have a sorority sister who could juggle cars, but nice too. “Well, Felicia and Peter and I… well…”
“Well?” Rogue prompted, reaching out to slug Mary Jane’s shoulder. Letting go of the covers made them slip down her ample bosom a little, something Mary Jane couldn’t help but notice. And a woman as beautiful and curvaceous as Rogue couldn’t help but make any other woman a little nervous.
You’re a supermodel, Red. Get a hold of yourself! “You know how I really wanted to start a family with Peter, but he wasn’t sure, so we made this sort of… deal about what he’d have to do if…”
“If he wanted to make those barnyard noises I dreamt about half the night?”
Mary Jane’s color deepened. Much more of this and they won’t be able to tell where my hair stops and my face kicks in. “Obviously, Peter came around to my way of thinking. But, ahh, Felicia and I realized that it wasn’t much of a reward for him if we enjoyed it so much. We, uh, realized that a lot…”
“Ah noticed.” Rogue kicked her bare foot at MJ. “You ol’ alley-cat. Let that tom get away with everythin’, didn’t ya?”
Mary Jane couldn’t help but grin. “I think I was the one who got away with… things. But anyway, in the interests of fairness and a healthy marriage and all that, Felicia and I decided that we were going to do something really nice just for Peter.”
“Ah think ah might’ve overheard,” Rogue teased, remembering some of the gurgling.
Mary Jane breathed a sigh of relief. Liberation or not, she thought it’d be a while before she was comfortable talking about having a six-bedroom nudist colony in the middle of New York, at least with one of the people she wasn’t married to. Knowing that Rogue already knew was a godsend.
“Well, since you know what we have planned, I’m sure you can guess that it’s going to involve the whole apartment.”
“Uh-huh.”
“The apartment you’re staying in.”
Rogue bit her lip. Here it was. The polite, but firm ask for her to be on her way. “Yeah.”
“And I would never want you to be uncomfortable or embarrassed because we’re walking around—“
“Why don’t you skip to the end, huh?” Rogue snapped. “Don’t pussyfoot around it, not when you’ve been doing it all night long!”
Mary Jane’s lips pressed inward. “I suppose I am being silly. My question to you is, how would you like to handle this? Would you like us to try to… schedule it around you? Because that would be no problem, we could do it at certain times of night when you’re not here. Or we could just not do it, at least, not until you’ve moved on, found a place to stay. Or…”
“Or?” Rogue prompted. “C’mon now, girlie, there ain’t no way ah’m gonna stick around stopping you from doin’ what ya wanna be doin’ in your own house!”
“Or,” Mary Jane forced out, “you could join in!”
Rogue made exactly the face Mary Jane had thought she would make. “Jah… join in? Y’all want me… joining?”
“I don’t want you to… I mean, I do, but if it’s what you want, not ever if it were something that made you feel uncomfortable or unsafe or anything like that.”
“But if ah didn’t feel uncomfortable. Or unsafe. Or anything like that.”
“Then… yeah. I mean, all three of us will be doing it. So you can watch. Participate as much as you want. You can wear, you know, a raincoat or underwear or nothing at all, even. Whatever works for you.”
Rogue’s throat felt incredibly dry. “So… ah’d be… ah’d be with y’husband…”
“And my wife. And me, for that matter. You could tell us if we put on a good show!” Mary Jane joked, trying to put a little laugh on it and feeling as if she’d failed incredibly.
“Ya wouldn’t be… jealous? Or anythin’?”
Despite herself, Mary Jane felt a flash of irritation. She knew Rogue was a looker, but Mary Jane was no slouch herself. She certainly wouldn’t have anything to feel embarrassed about if they both stripped down. “Absolutely not! I’m very self-confident.”
“Ya would haff ta be!”
Mary Jane scowled. “If you don’t want to do it—“
“No, no, that’s not it! S’ very… very interesting proposition. And ah been… thinking along similar lines myself.”
“I’m not surprised, some of the costumes you’ve worn.”
Rogue’s face darkened. “What’s that supposed ta… never mind. Probably oughta take it as a compliment. Might be even better if we all wore costumes.”
Mary Jane didn’t think even Felicia’s costume was that exposing. “We’d have to unzip ‘em pretty far.”
Rogue giggled. She kinda liked the sound of that. Wearing her whole kit, gloves and all, except with her parts out. Having these three working on them. On her mouth too. Like how she ate a banana sometimes, real slow like, thinking what else it could be…
“Ah wouldn’t want to step on y’r wedded bliss none. This is a special time, even for a trio of ya. But maybe after y’all have found a rhythm, ah could join in with my instrument?” Rogue ducked her head, remembering what was back in her own room… under the mattress. “Ah spent a lot of time tuning mah instrument.”
Mary Jane had never heard someone who wasn’t an actress or a model refer to their body as an instrument, but she supposed it was for someone who could fly around and punch giant robots’ heads off. “Well, we’d love to see you play with it.”
***
As Peter watched Felicia sleep, it occurred to him what she had in common with MJ—what had drawn him to both women. People liked to say you couldn’t make a housewife out of a ho, and it was true, but not the way they thought. You couldn’t make someone into anything. Felicia, Mary Jane, they wanted to be his wives. And that meant more to him than simply doing what society dictated.
All three of them were bad prospects: a vigilante who ran into danger at a moment’s notice, an actress whose career was either feast or famine, pulling her away for long hours or leaving her despondent for months on end. And Felicia, a cat burglar, very nearly a supervillain. Yet here she was. Married. Pregnant. Because she wanted to be.
That meant so much more to him than someone being his wife simply because it was expected of her.
God, Felicia looked so peaceful sleeping there, curled on her side with her thumb in her mouth, just like a baby. Peter's cock throbbed and strained against the tent of his sheets. As he looked at Felicia's pink, pouting lips wrapped around her thumb, he began to imagine it was his cock she was sucking. He almost stopped to consider whether it was right or wrong to jerk off to the sight, before remembering that he was married. Married to Felicia Hardy.
After a few strokes his lust boiled over and, damning the consequences, he got up out of bed. Felicia was already facing the edge. He leaned over the sleeping girl and gently removed her thumb. Then he pushed his cock down and nudged her soft, warm lips with the swollen cockhead. Felicia's mouth opened and she made sucking sounds, unconsciously looking for the pacifier she needed. Peter eased a bit of his purplish, mushroom-shaped cockhead inside, holding his breath as his wife's lips locked behind the rim.
"Good kitty," he breathed, staring at her exquisite face with his cock jutting hugely and obscenely between her lips. Not daring to thrust for fear of waking her, Peter jerked on his prick while Felicia nursed on his cockhead. The sight drove him wild. His wife, the mother of his child, was sucking his fat cock harder and harder, drawing deeply on it. From time to time he felt her soft, warm tongue swab over his tip as she swallowed the build-up of saliva and pre-cum.
"God!" he groaned, whispering, "suck it, Cat, suck it!" He pumped his straining cock faster. His free hand grabbed her silvery hair and held it like a rein directing Felicia’s ministrations. The way she was sucking, she seemed to want to take more of his prick into her mouth. Slowly, watching her face intensely, he allowed first one inch, and then another to slide between her pursed lips. Finally, although her mouth was ovalled wide, she seemed content with about six inches of his hot, throbbing cock.
"Ahhhhh," Peter sighed, feeling the heavy load of cum in his balls churning. He carefully pulled the covers from her sleeping body. "Oh, God!" he breathed reverently. "Pretty fucking kitty…”
Felicia's pussy was high and plump, shaved bare. The tight pink slit in the center was, to her horny husband, as irresistible as an oasis to a man dying of thirst. He had to view it at eye-level, to sniff it and, yes, to taste it!
He quickly bent, lowering his hips to the bedspread and then spreading out alongside her. Using his thumbs, he pried apart the soft, warm lips of her pussy. Felicia's cunt was delicate with fluted petals narrowing toward a bright, whitish-pink opening. It looked like some ambiguous, unknowable work of art to Peter.
With great tenderness he kissed her pubis, and then lovingly laved her feathery cunt lips. Felicia moaned softly, and her mouth nursed faithfully, chewing and tugging on his cock. Peter was mad with lust. He wanted to suck Felicia's budding clit and shove his tongue all the way up her tight hole, but he knew the sensations would be too much for her to sleep through.
In any case, he was about to come. There was no way he could bring himself to pull his cock from his sleeping wife's mouth. Such an action would cause him real physical pain. Yet blowing his wad in Felicia's mouth might jolt her awake. He decided to hold back each spurt, shooting just a glob or two of cum at a time, and timing it as close as possible with her swallowing.
He could feel his wife’s warm saliva swishing around the buried half of his prick as her tongue moved. He figured Felicia would be swallowing it, soon. His balls were really aching now, and the tip of his prick felt like it was a pincushion for red-hot needles.
He released the first few jets of cum. "Ahhh, uhhh, huhh!" He spurted the white jism into his woman's hot mouth, moaning his pleasure, and felt her instinctively swallow.
He had overestimated his own self-control. His jerking, throbbing cock and quivering, aching balls didn't care that Felicia might wake up. They just had a load of boiling cum that needed to be dumped, and dumped now!
Peter realized that he was coming too fast and too hard, so he gently pulled free of his Felicia's locked lips, trailing a sticky string of cum behind him. Then his cock pulsed and the knob puffed up and spit creamy jism all over Felicia's lips and chin. He watched it puddle and run down her neck.
Felicia's lips were still working, searching for something to suck, and Peter scooped up his cum and dripped it into her slack mouth. When he'd gathered most of it, he lowered his limp, oozing prick to her lips. The sleeping woman took it eagerly, and cleaned him more enthusiastically than some women had while wide awake.
"Mmmmmm... I like to wake up that way," Felicia murmured, instantly recognizing the feel of warm jism on her face, its texture as it ran down her gullet. “Breakfast in bed.”
“Seconds?” Peter asked, stroking his cock back to burgeoning fullness.
She stared at it. Christ, she wanted to jump on it so BAD, but he put his hand down on her shoulder, made her stay still and just look at it.
“Then again,” he said, “I seem to recall you having this idea about tempting me, teasing me, trying to get me so frustrated I just had to go along with you. Maybe I should give you a taste of your own medicine. Or no taste at all, actually.”
Felicia’s tongue lapped out, trying to swipe some of his cum off her chin, but he put his free hand on her cheek and kept holding her down, his thumb holding her mouth closed as well.
And the hell of it was, he knew how badly she wanted it, could practically taste it in her mouth, but he made her lie where she was. God, if she could just touch him, hold IT, fuck him...
"You want my cock, don't you?" he asked, withdrawing his thumb just enough for her to speak and still jerking himself off the way she would’ve loved to.
She nodded as best she could. "Yes, yes! Please, just let me have it for a while. A few minutes, and I could make you so happy!"
"No, Cat." He shook his head. "I would be making you happy. But you can't have it now… you've got to wait."
Damn it, he was just some nerd! She was the Black Cat! If she wanted his cock, it should be hers the moment she looked at it! But here he was making her beg for it. She hated to beg for it, and he loved when she did.
But it beat having a cock that wasn’t worth begging for…
Peter made her watch while he jacked off, and she got more and more agitated as he got closer to coming, knowing she’d only be able to watch, but she would watch, she would see all the juicy jism drip out of his prick and trickle down to his balls, where he would rinse it off and wash it down the drain, goddamn him!
That was like wasting a good meal. Fuck, but she wanted to get on top of him, push his prick into her and fuck him silly until her cunt came and came and came, and she could feel his spunk shoot, all gooey and hot and delicious into her cunt. WHY COULDN'T SHE HAVE IT WHEN SHE NEEDED IT SO FUCKING BAD?
“I can make it up to you!” she said plaintively.
“Walking around naked?” Peter asked sarcastically. “You pretty much do that anyway…”
“No, no! Something better! How would you like me to bring some nice, fresh pussy?”
His prick tensed, his bicep bulged as he stroked on his member. “I’m listening.”
Felicia giggled. Her cunt clenched and her clit stiffened. He loved that idea, alright. Men always did. “Another kitten to help me bat you around,” she purred. “Give me some time to set it up. You deserve it.”
“Aw, Cat, you, MJ, I don’t want anything else—“
“I want it. To make things right. With my body like this, I can’t give you the honeymoon fuck you deserve. She can. And that’s just what I want you to do, Peter. Don’t make love to her. Fuck her. Use her. You can be romantic as you want with me and Red, but with her…” Felicia purred again, louder. “If anyone deserves a hot little cock-sleeve, it’s you.”
“Jesus Christ, Felicia, don’t you ever stop?”
“Uh-uh, baby. Now how about we stop pretending you’re going to waste a perfectly good cumshot on your hand and fuck my mouth with that pretty hard-on of yours? We’ll both enjoy it.”
Peter’s thumb dragged her lower lip down, holding her mouth open. “You’re lucky Mary Jane already had some. I just don’t want to play favorites.”
“Mary Jane got a tonsil-wash before I did?” Felicia gasped in disbelief. “Don’t tell me I’m going to have to actually start getting up early if I want a shot at you.”
“Don’t worry,” Peter told her. “Your shot comes to you.”
All she could think about was Peter's cock pumping into her snatch, him pressing her against him to make sure she was getting it all, and wouldn't pull out.
It seemed crazy to Peter, after so many years of woman wanting nothing to do with him, here he had someone hotter than all the high school cheerleaders put together, and she couldn’t get enough of him. She had as much as said so: after she was fucked by his cock, she didn’t want another ever again. It had to be his prick, or nothing! And she got it, oh Christ, did she get it.
"Tell me, baby," he asked, stroking his long member so close to her that his hand almost touched her lips. "If I got into bed with you, what would you do? What would you like to do? Anything you want."
Her eyes dropped to his crotch. "First..." Her hand reached out to hold his cock, but she quickly pulled it back. He played her games often enough that, now that he’d started one, she wanted to obey the rules. "First, I'd start to lick your chest. Very, very lightly. Then I'd work myself down to your navel and lap all around it."
She watched as his prick started to drip precum.
"Go on," he told her.
"Then, I would stroke your pubes... wouldn't touch your cock yet, completely away from it... but I would feel all that bristly hair in my hands. And I would run them through the hair on your legs, on the inside, near your cock, but still, I wouldn't get at it."
He was really getting it up, slowly, but surely.
"And I would kiss all the way down your legs, maybe lick some of the hairs. Ohh, that would really turn me on. I love your legs. They're so hairy and hard and muscular and sexy... and I would work my way down to your toes. Oh, I love toes, too. Especially when I can suck on them. It's a great high when I do that."
Yep, he was really liking what she had to say. That hand of his was jerking faster... up, up, and away.
"And I would bite a little bit on the nail, but would leave the toe alone. In fact, it would feel so good that you'd want to cum like that. And I would lick in between, where it's soft and sensitive. I would suck on your toe harder and harder until your prick would be begging for some pussy. But it wouldn't get it yet. No, because after sucking your toes, I would take it out and I would make you lay down on your back and I would lay on top of you, but we wouldn't do anything with your meat. We’re saving that for last. No, I would be laying over you and sucking on your neck and rubbing my pussy over your legs and chest and stomach, but wouldn't have you touch me! You would be mine to please, and I would keep going and going and going, only thinking about how fantastic I would make you cum later on. So I would keep sucking on your neck—not real hard so you'd have hickies, but enough to get you all warmed up for the main event. And my cunt, it would be dripping all over your chest, stomach, face, arms, hands."
He was as stiff as a baseball bat. She wanted to play ball.
"Keep talking!" he told her.
"Oh yes, baby, yes..." She smiled, leaning over him. "And then I would take your right hand and one by one, I would be sucking on your thumb, pinkie, forefinger... in between, just like your toes. Only I wouldn't fuck your hand. At least, not like usual. Instead, I would take your thick, long middle finger and I would kneel over it and sit on it. And I would groan as it'd go up my ass, and your finger would feel the moistness and juices, all that succulent juice, dripping down your hand. Ohh... I would hump that finger so hard, and jerk it up and down and..."
It was all he could take. He grabbed her roughly and turned her around. “My plan’s a little simpler. But I think it works!”
He squeezed her cunt and pushed his stiff manhood against her ass. At first, she thought he was going to fuck her in the ass, but his prick slid quickly into her cunt. Doggy-style… why did they always want doggy-style with the Black Cat?
He pumped his cock into her, in and out, faster and faster.
"Oh, Spider! Married life agrees with you! Oh God... oh Christ, it feels so good, baby... shit... no way could I shake you off... you've got a tight hold on me… would take the goddamn Hulk to pry you... off... oh, baby!"
He held her snatch tightly in his hand and pushed it toward him, and in doing so, made his cock shove into her cunt farther and farther.
"Good... nice and wet..."
"And you're so big and hard and so much!"
His cock rammed in and out, feeling all those great juices soaking up on his cock, and hammering it in some more. Good Lord, she was a great fuck... his hand pushed her harder and her ass came slamming into his prick and scooping up some more of the fuck he was giving her. She loved that cock between his legs and now it was between her legs and fucking her like she was the only one. She knew no matter how many there were, it would always feel like she was the only one.
"More! Push it in more!" she told him.
"I'll ram it up to your throat!" he threatened. “Fuck your mouth that way!”
"Yes! Yes! I would love that!"
"You like the way I fuck you, Cat?"
She cried, "Oh, I love your fucking. It's the FUCKING BEST I ever had... OH JESUS... yeah, yeah, it's the best... I love when you fuck me... fuck me... come inside me! Get me pregnant again!"
Her cunt was all squishy and wet and soppy. The more he played with it, the more juice came spilling out and squirting all over the bed.
His balls were filling up with jism. In a few minutes, they would be empty, but it was worth getting rid of every drop, because her snatch would siphon it all up. It was as if her cunt were a vacuum and it sucked out all his jism.
"OH BABY, I'M GONNA PUMP IT UP YOUR ASS!" he yelled. "HERE... IT IS..." The first shot of cum slid up into her moist box. "HERE’S THE FIRST COURSE!"
"OH JESUS, I'M COMING... GODDAMN IT!"
"YEAH, CAT... SECOND COURSE..." More followed, as if surging to answer Felicia’s greed.
"OHH! YOU'RE FLOODING ME! I'LL BE AS FULL AS A SWAMP, YOU BASTARD! YOU'VE GOT SO MUCH GODDAMN SPUNK, I DON'T KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE IT ALL..."
"TOO BAD! HERE’S DESSERT!
She shivered, kicking her ass against his crotch, then screaming out again and falling down on her face to the bed. He finished emptying himself into her and rolled off, letting her slide off the side. Cum was pouring out of her cunt like a gushing oil well, but she couldn't be bothered. She was all fucked out.
Peter got up and put his pants on. Felicia was still lying on the bed. He didn’t smell breakfast yet, so he thought he’d let her sleep while he made it himself. Why should she be up early after the late night she’d had? Certainly not another round, because she’d milked him dry.
For now, at least.
***
In Rogue’s room, Tabitha pulled a pillow angrily over her head. It was 11 in the morning… didn’t they know people were trying to sleep?
