Moonstone Connection update (Patreon)

All hell had broken loose. 

Peter and Diana had followed the Tinkerer to Moonstone. Peter wished he could remember what had happened after that, but he’d taken a moonbeam in the last five seconds and everything was a little blank. Diana and Donna were fighting, more like wrestling around, talking to each other in hushed, bitter tones as the golden lasso tangled around them. Women.

Struggling to get his bearings, Spider-Man leapt through the large penthouse that Moonstone was apparently staying at. She was staying right on his heels, flying through the air and firing moonbeams whenever she had a semblance of a clean shot. It was turning the place into Swiss cheese. Luckily, it had an open floorplan. Unfortunately, Peter knew that if he kept this up, he was liable to get someone hurt in the crossfire.

Plan, plan, what are Moonstone’s powers? Luckily, his spider-sense gave him time to think, if he could just do it was a firehouse alarm going off in his ear. Intangibility, those laser beams, your standard strength, flight, and invulnerability… can’t hit her, and even if I could hit her, she could take it. So… how’s that intangibility work?

Peter threw himself out the window and, twisting in mid-air, wove a quick web over the hole. Moonstone plowed through, not thinking to go intangible, and the webbing snagged her. She growled and cursed, throbbing with energy as she went intangible. Some of the web-strands fell limply off her, sheared in two, but those that had been in contact with her body held on, turning intangible with her.

Well, how about that?

Moonstone kept after him, spewing profanities, or maybe composing her memoirs, his ears were ringing too hard still for him to know. He took to the weblines and she flew after him. As long as he kept it at the rooftops, most of her moonbeams would be harmless, but he hated the idea of going street level. Fortunately, he had a plan.

His weblines didn’t always have to be knotted spaghetti. He could close the aperture of his webshooters to a pinhole and shoot lines the size of threads. He did that, holding the button all the way down, the ample pressure forcing the webbing out like Cheez-Whiz.

Moonstone blundered right into the nearly invisible lines. In weaving them into a fuller rope, he took away a lot of the stickiness—there was a trick to it. But just as a simple strand, they were sticky as hell, catching on her hair, her face, her fingers, making everything stick to everything else. Moonstone went intangible, but just like her clothes, the webbing stayed on. She ripped at it, now resorting to name-calling.

Spider-Man landed on a cornice and directed his webbing up above Moonstone, firing it in an arc so it fluttered down like stray hairs. When Moonstone turned tangible again, it was in a storm of tangling webbing. Her fingers stuck together. Her forearm stuck to her bicep. The more she moved, the more of the invisible confetti she hit and was caught by. It was like having someone dump a barrel of fishing wire on you, and all of it was covered in glue. 

By the end, intangible or not, Moonstone wasn’t going anywhere. 

“You want to surrender now?” Peter asked. “Because you’ve got, like, the world’s worst case of gum in your hair.”

Moonstone could still fly, even cocooned up so she couldn’t even fire an energy blast without hitting herself, and she set an ungainly course for the nearest car-wash or wherever. Not that she made it. That was when Diana stepped in, snagging Moonstone with her lasso, giving her a quick jerk so she was swung into a building with a crunch of concrete, then reeling her in.

“Oh, sure, you do the easy part,” Peter said.

Dian wound up her lasso. “Donna is a Titan. I had to be very persuasive to make her see reason. If you had attempted it, no doubt she would’ve taken your life in battle.”

“So, you snapped her out of it?”

Diana gave a short nod. “We have much to discuss, but she is… clear of Moonstone’s lies. And there is another there who would have words with you.”

***

The moment he had her alone, back in something like neutral territory, Peter had his mask off and was embracing Mary Jane. She leaned into the hug, holding him just as tightly, sniffling as her hands roamed over the abrasions where his costume had been torn, where it was stiff with dried blood.

“It’s fine,” Peter assured her. “I’ve had worse.”

“Not because of me,” Mary Jane said. “You saved me.”

“Well, I had a little help…” 

He looked over to where Diana had been standing, but she’d taken her leave, giving them their privacy. He chuckled knowingly to himself. The perfect woman…

Mary Jane put her hand on his cheek, leading him back to face her, and then laid a soft, tentative kiss upon his lips. Peter let her, only responding when he could feel it was not gratitude, but something sweeter, more gentle. 

“Wow,” Peter said after, almost nonplussed by the current of arousal that ran through him the second that the romance of the moment had receded a bit. “I should save you more often.”

“Maybe it’s a full-time job,” Mary Jane said. “And I’d like to think I save you a little, if only from going to some really unsafe websites.”

“Oh, no, I have a stash—“

MJ gave him a squeeze and looked at him so fondly that Peter was honestly surprised she didn’t kiss him again. “We should get back together. Have we gotten back together? I thought we might’ve already, but if we haven’t, we definitely should.” Then she did kiss him, a little more passion than before, still enough to make Peter want to rip her clothes off and be all kinds of alpha male with her. “No one cares about me the way you do. And you were the only one I wanted to see when they had me. And it’s scary, it’s scary as hell, but I know you’re scared too, so if you can be brave about people trying to kidnap me, I can be brave about us… being for real. Actually being it.”

Mary Jane moved in to kiss him again, but Peter stopped her. He really hated to stop her. “Sorry—sorry, this can’t wait. While we were doing the break thing, or the break-up, or whatever it was… I wasn’t faithful to you.”

Mary Jane blinked. “Felicia Hardy?”

“I do know other women,” Peter said defensively. Then, realizing this really wasn’t a time to be defensive. “But no, not her. I’m sorry, it just—“

“No, no.” Mary Jane kissed him reassuringly, almost more passionately than before. “I don’t care. I nearly died, why should I care that you were with another woman? It was a woman, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, not as hot—“ Mary Jane teased. “Honestly, I was with someone else too.”

“Who?” Peter asked, though he sounded more surprised than angry. Curious. “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t ask.”

“No, I’m curious too. You tell me, I tell you?”

“Alright.”

“Donna Troy.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Not bad.”

“’Not bad’? Who were you with, Emma Frost?”

“Wonder Woman.”

“Get out! Damn, you know how to make a girl feel jealous. Was it a shapeshifter or a hallucination or—“

“No!” Peter said, offended. “The real Diana Prince.”

“Whoa.” Mary Jane thumped his arm. “Nice going.”

“You’re not… upset? Jealous?”

 

“Impressed, mostly. Is that weird?”

“I’m kinda impressed by you and Donna Troy. I mean, she’s a real class act.”

MJ crossed her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“I mean, I don’t know, she didn’t strike me as the party girl type.”

“Oh, I’m everyone’s type. But…” With his mask off, she could hook her fingers in Peter’s collar and pull him close again. “I’m all yours. Show me how you ate Wonder Woman’s pussy.”

“I actually didn’t go down on her.”

“Okay, now you’re bullshitting me.”

“Ahem,” Diana cleared her throat. She’d changed from her costume into a simple, flowing robe, loose but thin, occasionally pressing against her body to reveal the insubstantial lines of the lingerie that covered her flesh. “I see you’ve decided to reunite.”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Looks like.”

“I’m glad. And that you were both honest about your enjoyments. I would hate to think I contributed to keeping you apart.”

“Kinda what you’re doing right now,” Mary Jane whispered, and Peter stifled a laugh.

Diana drew closer to them. Her walk pulled the robe between her legs, her stride plastering it to her strong thighs with every step. It outlined her from her ankles, to her pubis, to the taut muscles of her belly.

“I can see you feel no jealousy towards each other, no possessiveness. So I offer you this: as you share your lives, share me as well.”

“Share you?” Peter asked.

“Share me,” Diana repeated. Then she leaned in to gently kiss Mary Jane. 

Peter watched in disbelief as the two women’s lips worked together soundlessly, seemingly in the vacuum of space for how intimate and potent and fantastical the soft, languid kiss was. It was only after—almost a full minute later—that Mary Jane let out a breathy sigh and lunged forward to kiss Diana again, but the tall Amazon was straightening up from her stoop, turning to Peter instead.

Peter froze as she kissed him, like a deer in the headlights, and whatever arousal he’d been concealing while he exchanged words with Mary Jane suddenly would not be denied. Mary Jane gasped—either at the sight of her boyfriend making out with an Amazon Princess or from noticing his erection pushing out the front of his costume like a battering ram. Peter heard her like he was underwater. He was absorbed in Diana, concentrating the fullness of his attention on the feel of her lips on his, the slight pulse of her breathing. He felt like he could feel the blood rushing through capillaries in her perfect face, the infinitesimal growth of her hair, the slight heat radiating off her bare skin. 

The moment Diana stopped kissing him, Peter looked to Mary Jane. He saw her nearly agog with lust, her lips gently parted, eyes hooded, fingers thoughtlessly playing with a loop of her crimson hair as she nearly entered a fugue state. He got the feeling she could watch him and Diana forever and a day. 

Then, snapping out of it, she sprouted a goofy grin and he realized how happy she was for him. It was a weird thought, being happy that someone else was sleeping with your partner, but—why not? Donna Troy was a beautiful woman, a giving lover—he was happy Mary Jane had had the experience of sleeping with her. Why shouldn’t she be happy for him? Or he for her?

There was no more need for words. He laid one finger on her chest, teasing that he was going to grope her heaving breasts, but instead sticking to her shirt and using it to pull her in for a kiss. It was as desirous, as all-consuming, as pleasurable as the one he’d shared with Diana, but there was something else—something he thought could only come with the fullness of time, something he felt from Mary Jane on an almost spiritual level. It was a kind of joy at being with him, a sheer glee in being together, and he thought he’d felt it for as long as he could remember, in every little kiss, in every small touch, in every single look. He’d just stopped being attuned to it, and now he was getting a full-blown crash course in it all over again.

Diana saw it pass between them. When Peter looked to her, as if to see whether she’d caught it, she smiled at both of them.

“Come,” she said. “I’ve prepared the master bedroom.”

***

Diana had three tall drinks waiting for them in the bedroom, and she’d lit candles on the dresser. The flickering light was reflected in the long mirror; the combination of light and dark made the room seem warm, secure, and slightly exotic. 

Peter lay down on the bed, his head spinning. “You know, there’s something I’ve always wanted to see,” he said as he propped himself up on two pillows.

Diana looked at Peter, then glanced at MJ. “And what might that be?”

“I’d like to see Mary Jane make love to you… like she did to Donna.”

Mary Jane smiled at Diana, who turned and insinuatingly displayed the clasp on her robe. Mary Jane reached for it, but decided to tease rather than please. She caressed the flesh around the clasp with gentle, fleeting touches, glancing at Peter to see him enjoying the show. She broke the clasp and the entire robe collapsed like a tent losing its pole. It fell down Diana’s body, the two women helping it along with wiggles and little tugs, Diana undressing Mary Jane as they did so. MJ couldn’t help but giggle as Diana stripped away her top, roughly seated her on the bed to pull off her jeans.

They were both so fashionable as to wear what amounted to lingerie. Diana wore white, the better to blend in with her robes, while Mary Jane had been kidnapped in mish-mashed blue and green, or at least put that on in captivity. It struck Peter as somewhat adorable, even if MJ were far too stylish to normally make such a faux pas.

And of course, they were beautiful. Mary Jane was leggy and slender, tall for a woman, with curvy hips and a generous bust, but Diana was taller, fuller, more vibrant and athletic. In many ways, she was the same body type as MJ, just idealized to an almost impossible degree, with her poreless skin, her super-dark hair, her breasts… which, though smaller than a Black Cat or Power Girl, were perfectly tailored to her supple body to give her a kind of elegance, a classicalism that Felicia, for all her sterling qualities, just couldn’t match.

But Mary Jane was no slouch. Her skin was well-tanned, but paler, scattered with freckles that gave an endearing quality to what would otherwise be intimidating perfection. Her choice of bra might’ve struck him as adorable, but it caressed breasts that didn’t need the support any more than Diana’s did, and while she didn’t ripple with muscle, her whole body was toned and firm with rigorous exercise and diet. She wasn’t a goddess, but she was wonderfully, lovably human.

Diana was worthy of worship, but Mary Jane was worthy of love.

With both of them down to their undergarments, Mary Jane took the liberty of turning Diana to face Peter, then pressing her own body into Diana’s from behind, reaching around to cup her breasts.

Peter watched in fascination as his girlfriend—he loved being able to call her that again—stroked her hands from Diana’s bra to her belly, then gently began to stroke the silvery moisture in the crotch of her panties. He could see the reflection of Mary Jane’s back in the mirror, muscles tensing and twitching with excitement, as MJ slipped her fingers into Diana’s panties. He glanced from Diana’s bare body to that of Mary Jane in the mirror and his excitement could no longer go without expression.

Diana looked at him as he began stroking his growing cock, and it was hard to tell if she moaned from that or from Mary Jane’s fingers parting the lips of her pussy and stroking her folds.

Mary Jane heard the low moan and kissed and licked along the nape of Diana’s neck, only slowly coming around to face her lover. She dipped her head to kiss one tit, then the other, as if inspecting their loveliness with her mouth. Diana gasped passionately as MJ’s sucking kisses pulling her breasts out of alignment with the cups of her bra, revealing the edges of her dark areolas to Peter’s hungry eyes.

Next, Mary Jane kneeled, and as she did, she kissed her way down to the moistening panties that covered Diana’s sex. How often she had dreamed about doing this very thing with Wonder Woman herself, because who else was exotic and beautiful enough for her to fantasize about? But the dream was nowhere near as exciting as reality, with her beloved Peter watching.

She glanced toward the bed; Peter lay playing with his gigantic hard-on and she could tell by his expression that he was more than excited. Keeping her eyes on him, Mary Jane dipped her head and licked the pouting lips of Diana’s pussy right through her panties. Diana moaned at a slightly higher pitch, and took hold of Mary Jane’s head as she spread her legs.

“Mmmmm, yes, girl… lick it… let me feel your tongue on my gates… eat my pussy… suck my clit… oh, great Hera! What a beautiful mouth you have!

Mary Jane burned with Diana’s praise and she ran her hands up the backs of Wonder Woman’s legs to cup her ass as she tongued the woman’s wet folds. Above her, Diana was swaying her hips, grinding her sex into the redhead’s mouth as Peter looked on in total fascination.

“Make her come, MJ… suck her till she comes!” Peter told his girlfriend as his throbbing prick jerked in his hand.

Mary Jane attacked Diana’s clit; hearing her cry out again, she returned to licking her slit furiously, Diana’s panties now seemingly tissue-thin. Mary Jane enjoyed the thought of getting Diana off right through them.

“Ughhhnnn… yes, yes! Now, lovely one, lick me… I’m coming… Aphrodite, don’t stop now…. Yesssss… now… now!” And Diana felt her knees go weak as the first wave of orgasm washed over her hunching body. She held Mary Jane’s head tightly as she shuddered and the breath was driven from her lungs. “Uhhhnnn…” she sobbed. “Ohhhh, oh, Mary Jane…”

Peter could not contain himself any longer. The sight of Diana, not just in lingerie, but disheveled to the point of total dishabille, was too much for him. One of her shoulder straps had slipped down her arm, leaving her already skimpy bra only half-covering her ample breasts, while her panties rode low on her hips, pulled high between her buttocks, ebon hair emerging over the crumpled crotch-band in its disarray. 

He leapt from the bed, his stiffness protruding before him, and grabbed Diana to kiss her as she shuddered violently. Then he released her to pull Mary Jane to him, crushing her breast in one hand, rubbing his body against hers as Diana fell to her knees in satisfaction. A moment later, he felt Diana’s callused hand close around his throbbing manhood.

When he looked down—barely able to tear himself away from ravishing MJ—he saw the princess’s mouth ovaled obscenely around his cock, and he shivered as she took nearly his full length into her throat.

“Ummm, wait, baby…” he told her, lifting her to her feet. “The bed… on the bed…”

Despite his words, he exchanged kisses with both of them standing up, savoring the little quirks of Mary Jane’s as well as Diana’s poised, almost submissive technique. As he kissed her, he suddenly felt the stony hardness of her nipples press into his chest, and realized Mary Jane was taking off Diana’s bra for her. Diana’s breasts settled into an only slightly less precarious position, riding high on her chest with dusky areolas and olive nipples hard and pointed. 

Diana returned the favor as Peter kissed Mary Jane, and he only barely pulled away to see her cleavage was even better than he remembered, her breasts pale and dotted with freckles like sea foam spurred by a perfectly curved wave. Then he was kissing her again, and it was only Diana’s stroking hands, her lips cajoling at Mary Jane’s neck until MJ returned her attentions, that could separate them.

Peter flopped down on the bed, allowing the two women a moment to savor each other. “Well, since the two of you left me out of the last game, I can only think of one way to make up for it.”

Mary Jane looked at Diana in confusion, but the princess was as baffled as her, if more intrigued in her showing.

“Diana, you come over here on my right. And Mary Jane, you’re on my left.”

Obligingly, the women crawled onto the bed on either side of him. He stopped them, putting hands on their shoulders when they were bracketing his hips

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here today,” he joked, looking down at the beautiful bodies crowded in beside him. “I should you should both suck me off. I’ve been blown by both of you—since we’re having a threesome, we might as well do both at once.”

They looked at him in surprise for a moment. Then the princess and the supermodel looked at each other.

“He did rescue me,” Mary Jane said.

“I have sucked him off,” Diana said. “I think later, I’ll have this cute couple lick me from front and behind.”

Mary Jane grinned and started to lower her head to Peter’s towering cock. She paused with it at her lips. “Do you have a strap-on? Because… double penetration. Because double penetration.”

“I’m an Amazon. I always have a strap-on.”

Then, amidst giggles, they both dove for Peter’s cock. Each of them grabbed a handful as they began kissing and licking at the swollen slab of his erection.

“Oh geez!” Peter gasped. “That’s fucking unbelievable…”

Diana smeared her saliva-damp lips up his slick shaft, nibbling gently at the collar as Mary Jane did the same on the other side. She started to take the throbbing head into her mound and found that MJ had had the same idea at the same time. Instead of sucking him, the two found themselves kissing around his knob.

It’s like making love to her at the same time as pleasing Peter, Diana thought. And she did love Mary Jane’s body, so sly, so feminine. She could see that the redhead could receive much affection before having her fill.

Instead of returning her attention to Peter, she abandoned herself to the sensation. Reaching across with her free hand, she gently entered Mary Jane’s moistening cunt.

“Mmmph, mmm,” the young woman grunted at Diana’s entry. Then she returned the favor by finding Diana’s pussy and frigging furiously into the wet passage.

They were so lost in their exploration of each other’s cunt and sliding kisses around Peter’s cockhead that neither of them much registered him sitting up, playing his hands down and across their prostrate bodies. He reached down and at the same time, ripped away each woman’s panties. While they were still noticing it, he fucked a hard middle finger into either woman’s ass.

“Ohhh God!” Mary Jane moaned into Diana’s open lips.

“Mmmm-hmmm,” the lovely Amazon agreed as both of them found their asses being fingered at the same time.

Diana liked games. She liked having her sex worked over. By man or woman, it made no difference. She liked playing master to a slave, and having a wet mouth kissing her from clit to asshole. She liked the idea of someone down there devoted to making her feel good. She liked wicked things being down to her.

“Keep going,” she whispered to Mary Jane, leaving Peter’s cock all hers, and shimmied up the bed to Peter. She threw a leg over his chest, turning her body with its motion, so that when she straddled him, it was in the so-called ‘reverse cowgirl’ pose. 

“Eat my ass,” she said, looking over her shoulder to see that Peter was already tempted by the sight of her luscious ass framed by her white garter belt and dark nylons. He caught his breath as she reached back with her hands and pulled her cheeks open to show him what she had. “Like the redhead said—it’s bullshit you haven’t gone down on me.”

“Those weren’t her exact words,” Peter pointed out, then groaned as Mary Jane blew a cool exhale over his wet cock.

“I’ll eat if you will,” she said, gazing past Diana’s body.

“Show me,” Peter retorted teasingly. “If anyone should go first, it’s the damsel in distress, thanking her brave heroes…”

Mary Jane looked at Diana questioningly, but the Amazon was grinning. “Peter enjoyed a show… I would like one as well.”

Mary Jane made a little noise of assent. Woman grew up on Lesbian Island—of course her idea of kinky porn would be blowjobs.

Diana watched Mary Jane bend over Peter’s supine body. She didn’t take him in her mouth, though, oddly enough, but ran her tongue up and down his sides, along his ribs and the curvature of his hips. Diana looked over her shoulder. Peter was lying there quietly, but Diana could see the twitch in his smile, the look of delight and contentment on his face.

Diana returned her gaze to MJ. The model’s long red hair hung down around her face as she licked, and it brushed over Peter’s body like a feather duster, arousing him even more. She licked across his belly and up the other side, over a sensitive scar just before where Diana’s kneeling legs formed a Great Wall across Peter’s body. So Mary Jane burrowed into Diana’s thighs, working quickly, flicking her tongue in butterfly strokes on Diana’s inner thighs, just tingling her enough to be arousing. Diana moaned gently, clenching her buttocks before Peter’s eyes and feeling their stare intensify. She wondered if there was anything else on Earth that he wouldn’t mind blocking this view…

Diana moaned louder as Peter put his hands on her hips and pulled her to his face with the ease of his strength, nuzzling and licking up and down the valley between her cheeks. She raised her hips to help him, gurgling with pleasure as he lapped between her legs, dragging her aroused juices up the damp grove to her winking asshole.

She pictured his quick tongue swabbing over her anus. Of all the men she’d known, Peter was the only one who seemed to put real gusto into it. But then, with a woman of Mary Jane’s assets, it was more than possible this wasn’t his first time… she wondered if MJ enjoyed the feeling of his warm saliva running over her asshole as much as she was.

Diana grinned through her moans, watching. Mary Jane was running her fingers over Peter now, working them in conjunction with her tongue between his abs, and he was beginning to squirm and moan himself, amused and tantalizing by her beguiling tongue.

Mary Jane was as infatuated with Peter’s flesh as she was with the rest of him. His intellect was singular, intense and driven and scattered and erratic—his body was much simpler. A symphony orchestra, but she was the conductor, and all those beautiful muscles came alive when she worked her magic, working together to deliver beautiful music to that big, overcooked brain… give him relief from all his bullshit.

That was her goal tonight. To make beautiful music with Peter. To make his body sing, to make it soar to the heights and end in a crashing finale, with Diana there as both audience and player. Mary Jane would allow her to sing a few songs. But she knew the applause would be only for her.

Her tongue roamed lower and lower, down in the sweet, soft flesh below his navel with its hard, gritty hair. The mixture was so much fun to play with. Diana moaned again—the closer Mary Jane got, the hotter Peter got, and all the energy that would’ve gone into moaning and pleading was now going into pleasing Wonder Woman. Mary Jane could’ve laughed at how decadent it was.

She kept playing with him, licking down over his thighs on the outside, then raising his leg and licking around the back of his thigh, almost down to his ass. Then she went up the inside of his thigh, still holding his leg in the air, as she got up on her knees and licked him behind his knee.

“Lick my asshole,” Diana moaned. “Let me feel your tongue!”

 

Mary Jane almost thought Diana was talking to her, before she remembered Peter. He had drawn back a moment, gazing drunkenly at the pinkish-brown rose of Diana’s asshole. He imagined fucking it after he lubed her up, and getting his cock sucked while he waited, and the endless possibilities brought him to a fever pitch of excitement. He teasingly kissed the inside curve of Diana’s ass and she realized that first, Mary Jane would have to do her job.

She put a domineering hand in Mary Jane’s hair, and with insouciant obedience, the redhead lowered Peter’s leg to the bed once more and licked down into his crotch, lathering the hair at the base of his cock. She let the saliva run freely from her tongue, his pubic hair becoming matted and kinky with her little cat-bath. 

Diana tugged her hair insistently and Mary Jane licked around the top of his cock, down into his crotch on the other side, and continued at a slower pace to his balls. Then MJ laid down on her belly, her head buried deep in Peter’s crotch, and picked up his balls and sucked them softly with tender caresses of her mouth. She slurped them both into her mouth, deep, sucking with a soft plunging motion inside her soft lips. In, then out, then back in, then out almost all the way…

Grunting, Diana took hold of Peter’s cock herself, and jacked it experimentally as Mary Jane sucked his balls. Peter couldn’t resist the offer; he closed his lips over the ring of her asshole and slithered his tongue inside her ass.

Diana groaned. Having a thick tongue stretching her asshole ever-so-slightly, preparing it for just about anything, was the most heavenly caress. There was something almost magical about just lying there with her cheeks pulled open and a man tonguing her anus.

Diana looked down at Peter’s purpling manhood as she jerked it off. “You’re going to bring him off before you even get it in your mouth,” she told Mary Jane, her voice creaky, almost choking. “Take him. He needs it. You both do.”

Mary Jane eyed Diana with a reassuring look. She wasn’t ready yet. Her tongue lapped in little circles around the base of his member and she handled it, the whole hefty, throbbing shaft, and held it pressed down to his belly, fingers at the tip. 

Her tongue started at his balls and, with one long, wide, decadent swipe, she ran her tongue right up the underside of his cock from top to bottom.

When she finished that first swipe, she went back and did it again, and again, and again. 

But Mary Jane knew she could not tease and play with Peter much longer. He was getting much too hot. It was time for the final chorus of her little concert. 

She laved her tongue up his shaft to the purple plum of his tip and opened her mouth, letting his cock up so that it could lever upward into her lips. As she eased her head back, his cock climbed higher and higher, the head moving into her mouth, until it was almost vertical and she started lowering her lips over it. Slowly and sensuously she worked, making Peter’s belly churn with anticipation that was slowly turning into exquisite pleasure.

She placed her lips firmly around his cockhead, sucking down hard on the soft, shiny flesh. Then she made his whole pounding shaft disappear in one delicious gulp.

Her head dropped as she devoured his prick, swallowing it and making it hers. Mary Jane twisted and turned as she sucked him, rubbing her lips firmly along the entire rigid length of his shaft, drawing it up into her throat with the strongest suction she could apply.

“Oh, that’s beautiful!” Diana moaned. “It’s just beautiful. Don’t stop!”

Mary Jane didn’t stop. She had no intention of even slowing down. She was going all the way with him, right to the bittersweet end. She’d share her man, but not his cum. That was all hers…

Diana was in high spirits as well, watching the show kick into high gear. “Tongue-fuck my ass!” she purred to Spider-Man. “Let me feel it coming and going!”

Peter obliged her. He whipped his tongue in and out of her asshole as she squired her cheeks against his face. Her muscular ass surrounded him, covering his nose and mouth and chin in a smothering of hot, creamy flesh. He could feel her shuddering—each stroke of his tongue brought a whimper out of her throat. Diana fucked her ass on his face, pumping her hips and clamping her asshole down on his tongue.

Diana came twice, rubbing her clit as if it were needed, but wanting to add to the feel of his wet slithering tongue until the pleasure was almost painful. She lowered herself down Peter’s body, as if bending in worship to the man worshipping her, until they were almost sixty-nining—her chin resting on his treasure trail, regarding Mary Jane sucking his cock right in front of her.

Under the goddess’s inspection, Mary Jane only went faster. Her lips went on a wild, careening ride up and down Peter’s manhood until her head was whirling with the desperate need that it spawned deep inside her. MJ felt his swollen cock throb with a new urgent as she brought him to the peak of his desire. 

He let her have it all, both barrels. Peter jerked suddenly and his prick shot into her throat with a savage, violent thrust that almost choked her. She felt a groundswell of all his potent lust looming up inside him.

Mary Jane braced herself… and then took his torrential outpour of cum straight into her gullet. It coursed down her throat and coated her with a film of warm, glossy sweetness all the way down to her stomach… a mixture of rich cream and heated honey melting in her mouth. She loved the feel of it trickling down her throat and becoming a part of her, but there was only so much she could take.

After several more gulping blasts of Peter’s seed, Mary Jane pulled herself free of his groin, taking another shot right in her face before Diana shoved her mouth down on Peter… hard, sucking him into her hot, clenching mouth… all the way up… into her throat. Mary Jane was shocked. She’d never known someone to throat Peter on the first try. Then again, this was the first time she’d ever had a threesome with the man. Maybe Felicia could take ten inches with ease. In fact, Felicia could almost certainly—

Diana pressed her fingers tightly around Peter’s pounding balls as Mary Jane thought and Peter moaned and thrashed on the bed, caught up in the tide of his overwhelming orgasm. She sucked and swallowed and sucked. Couldn’t get enough of his cock, and long after he had finished shooting his load, long after his erection had wilted, long after he had regained his breath, she still cradled its hefty sweetness in her mouth.

She just couldn’t bear to let it go.

It was a little ironic, given her unearned and unwanted reputation as some kind of man-hater, but Diana loved sucking cock. When she wanted to please a man, she worshipped his cock, deified it, revered it, memorized its taste and revisited it in her sleep.

She thought she loved Peter’s best of all. 

With nothing more to be said, and nothing to be done, she lowered her head down to the muscular vee of Peter’s midsection, while Mary Jane reclined her head on Peter’s thigh. In the overwhelming serenity that rushed in to fill the space left by their immense lust, they were all soothed into sleep. Even Diana could only remain awake long enough, and barely enough, to play with Mary Jane’s hair over Peter’s fallen cock before she gave in to the decadence of the afterglow.

They lay where they’d fallen, perfectly content, where they’d remain until Donna Troy found them the next morning.