Spider-Man: Symbiote Blues (Patreon)
Content
“Please, please!” Mary Jane begged, ardently struggling against the strong bonds that held her fast by the wrists and ankles, keeping her spread-eagled on the bed. “Don’t… don’t stop! Fuck me! Fuck me now, Spider-Man!”
And although the mask of Spider-Man was as blank and featureless as always, it seemed something in the stretch and hang of the fabric over his jawline formed a cruel grin. “Why?”
Mary Jane’s hips twisted as she squirmed even harder. “Because I want it! You know I want it! I love it!”
“What?” Spider-Man persisted, as cool and exacting as he had been with his previous word.
“Your cock!” Mary Jane moaned.
“Bull,” he snapped, and his hand lashed out with a narrow strap of webbing that left a red stripe on her flat, creamy stomach. Mary Jane screamed in excited pain, twisting frantically around.
“That’s what you like!” Spider-Man laughed. “Pain. Not cock. Pain.”
“Yes! Oh yes!” Mary Jane pleaded, her eyes teary and gleaming. “You know what it does to me! You know it makes my cunt wet and hot for your cock in me, fucking me!”
Peter Parker crouched in the dark shadows, peering into the bedroom, watching with his eyes huge. His cock strained inside his pants, balls sore with need. Mary Jane was tied helplessly to the bed and he couldn’t help but stare at her body. She was totally naked except for her nylons, a scarlet garter belt holding them up. Her breasts rose up sharply with each breath, the nipples standing in stiff peaks, as if trying to entice Spider-Man to touch them.
Peter ran his palm over his crotch, feeling his erection throb. Mary Jane was even more beautiful than usual, all tied up and naked, with Spider-Man able to do anything to her. It excited Peter to see his girlfriend so helpless, to see her begging to be fucked. The way she twisted against the webbing, her hips writhing with a desperate need, tightened Peter’s balls until it felt like there was no room in them for all his cum.
Peter could see up her very long legs, between her slender thighs. Her cunt was exposed, the pink lips glistening with need. He stared for a long time at her sex, finding the thin red hair exciting, the pink of her pussy and red of her visibly throbbing clit like that of candy. Peter wanted to stick his cock into her and fuck her the way she was begging Spider-Man to fuck her.
“You’d fuck any hard cock right now, you whore,” Spider-Man snarled at her. “Mine, or any other cock.”
“Oh, yes, baby!” Mary Jane whimpered.
His strap cracked loudly as it came down across her white stomach again. Now there were two red welts on her skin. Mary Jane didn’t scream, she just sort of sighed as she arched her cunt up to Spider-Man. He laughed again. His balls filled the crotch of his costume and his full, thick cock stood out against his stomach, outlined by the black fabric as it ran straight up his torso. Mary Jane stared at the bulge hungrily. Her cunt was clenching with readiness, but she knew she’d have to wait to get fucked. To get cock.
“Want to suck me, you little cunt?” Spider-Man asked, raising the top of his costume just enough to let her see the huge, swollen head of his prick protruding up from the waistband of his pants. “How would you like this in your mouth, huh?”
“Yes, please!” Mary Jane gasped, lifting her head, mouth open, neck craning as if she could reach him from there. “Put it in! I’ll suck it, suck it so good!”
“Fuck you!” Spider-Man cried, lowering his shirt back over his cockhead. The white spider on the front of his costume was pulled taut once more. “I’m not through teaching you your place, cocksucker.”
Peter was fumbling at his pants as he watched, feeling an overwhelming need to release the pressure on his cock and balls. He pulled them out of his pants, but then left them alone. He didn’t want to come, not yet. He just wanted to let them throb as he watched. It felt so good just to throb, just to watch…
“Yes, yes, darling,” Mary Jane panted. “Please, do something for me—I’m on fire! My pussy needs your cock! If you won’t fuck it, just lick it a little. You know you love the way it tastes.”
“What do you think I am, a fucking lezbo?” Spider-Man demanded, and he lashed the strap across Mary Jane’s shapely tits.
The redhead moaned in pain. Her breasts were very tender, especially her erect nipples. The pain seared into her, and though it was stronger than she was used to, she enjoyed it as part of the price she to pay for… him.
“Maybe I’ll turn you over and smack that sweet ass of yours, MJ,” Spider-Man said. “Would you like that?”
“Oooo! You know I would!” Mary Jane moaned. “But don’t hit my tits again—I couldn’t take you hitting my tits again.”
“Are you telling me what to do, whore?”
“No, of course now! But you know how tender my breasts are—you make them so tender when you play with them so much…”
“Why do you think I like to hit ‘em?” And now there was a cruel smile on Spider-Man’s face, a set of lips pulled back from a long row of endless teeth, stretching from ear to ear. “You have to learn who’s in control. From now on, you do anything I say.”
“I will,” Mary Jane whispered, her green eyes fixed upon the thick outline of his manhood. “I’ll obey you! I’ll do anything!”
“Yes, you will do anything,” Spider-Man said, lowering his pants and letting his cock hang out.
Peter was getting more and more excited. He saw Spider-Man’s huge cock and wondered how it could possibly fit into his girlfriend’s cunt. The idea sent an exciting tremor through his balls, and he almost went off.
Spider-Man crawled over Mary Jane on his hands and knees. He slapped at her breasts hard. Mary Jane cried out, twisting under him in instinctive attempts to avoid the almost unbearable pain he created. By the time Spider-Man stopped, her cleavage was a bright red, but her nipples spiked up even harder than before. Her cunt was dripping juice, her clit knotted hard.
Next, Spider-Man straddled Mary Jane’s body, kneeling on either side of her stomach. Gripping his cock, Spider-Man whipped it back and forth, hitting Mary Jane’s tits with his impressive length. The sound came to Peter Parker and he listened carefully.
Peter grabbed at his own cock as he watched, squeezing himself and breathing heavily. The wish to be in Spider-Man’s place, dominating Mary Jane was stronger than any feeling Peter had ever known before.
Spider-Man shuffled forward on his knees until his cock slid between Mary Jane’s tits. Peter’s eyes bulged as he saw the black-clad man manhandle her cleavage closed around his cock, fucking back and forth into the narrow passage he made for himself. Mary Jane stared at the head of his cock as it appeared between her tits, her tongue licking out to taste the tears that had trickled down her cheeks. The salty taste seemed to make her shudder with arousal.
“Let me suck it, lover,” Peter heard her say. “Let me suck the biggest cock I’ve ever seen.”
“Not yet,” Spider-Man grunted.
“But you know I love to suck it.”
“You’d love sucking any cock you could get your lips around,” Spider-Man taunted.
“I would,” Mary Jane replied, licking her lips hungrily as she watched his member drip hot precum onto her skin. “But yours most of all.”
“If you want it so much, then take it.”
Peter’s cock throbbed wildly as he watched Spider-Man slap Mary Jane’s face with his cock. He gripped his own so hard it was almost as painful as it was pleasurable. Mary Jane sobbed, but she was breathless with excitement as much as she was with pain.
“Okay,” Spider-Man said. “Now you can suck my cock.”
An eager trill went up from Mary Jane as she opened her mouth to accept his big prick. Peter’s breathing hastened, harshened. He hoped they couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t bear to be discovered before seeing if Mary Jane actually could take that enormous member down her throat.
And so he watched without believing. Mary Jane closed her lips around the thick, throbbing cockhead that Spider-Man offered her. He watched Spider-Man brace himself on the bed’s headboard and slowly fuck more of his long cock into Mary Jane’s mouth. He saw Mary Jane’s eyes roll back, lose focus, become dreamy as she gurgled in delight. Spider-Man fucked her mouth, her throat, his heavy balls swinging against her chin, and Peter watched in trembling excitement.
“You do like this cock best, don’t you?” Spider-Man asked. “Because it’s the best cock you’ll ever have.”
Mary Jane’s eyes rolled up to him, crinkling with pleasure as they met his. Her tongue was crowded in her mouth by his thick prick; she didn’t dare to even try to lick at him. His cockhead rested at the back of her throat. It started throbbing there, and the pulsation ran down his shaft to tingle at her widely stretched lips. The wiry hair at the base of his manhood tickled the end of her nose, a feeling she found surprisingly pleasant while so… open. In a wholly different way, she enjoyed the way her lips stretched around his masculinity and feeling the heft of his balls on her chin.
She didn’t know if she wanted him to just leave his cock in her mouth and let her suck away to her heart’s content, or if she wanted him to start moving again and fuck her mouth like it was just another hole.
Peter watched his girlfriend lift her head, trying to suck on Spider-Man’s cock. But the man in black wouldn’t let her. He leaned over her head and pumped into his mouth, taking his time as he slowly drove his cock into her hot lips. Peter’s eyes darted feverishly from Mary Jane’s utterly full mouth to her wet, twitching sex. He watched her ass squirm, her buttocks clench. But no matter how appealing that sight was, he always went back to her lips grinding up and down, fucking the cock in her mouth like she was getting off on it. He imagined it was his cock between her lips, that he was the one who had tied her down and could do whatever he wanted to her.
“You want the best cock you’ve ever had to come in your slutty mouth?” Spider-Man asked.
Mary Jane nodded her head as best she could with his rigid shaft in her mouth, practically staking her head down.
“Maybe I will,” Spider-Man said. “But then again, maybe I won’t.”
Mary Jane tightened her lips on his cock as if she could hold him in her mouth, not allow him to break free before he came. She wanted to taste his seed on her tongue, feel it warm her throat down to the very core of her. Her cunt was so hot already, and if he came in her mouth, Mary Jane knew she would share in his orgasm.
Peter was seeing the passion Mary Jane was capable of. She was so different now than he had ever seen her before. If only he had known before, he would have…
Suddenly, Spider-Man wrenched his cock from Mary Jane’s lips.
“No!” Mary Jane gasped, desperately licking up the strand of precum-ridden saliva that snapped to land on her chin. “Please, in my mouth! Come in my mouth!”
But Spider-Man moved down between her writhing legs. He caught her thighs, stilled them, opened them up for his own thick cock. Peter watched. He saw Spider-Man ram into her. He saw the man in black’s balls bounce as he fucked hard and fast into Mary Jane. She twisted her naked ass in a frenzy, trying to arch herself up into the cock that had claimed her.
“Yes, fuck me, darling!” Mary Jane wailed. “Ram it deep into my cunt! Ooooo, you’re so hard and you’re going to make me come so hard and I, I, I love it!”
Twisting and squirming, Mary Jane screamed with pleasure, meeting Spider-Man’s cock as best she could. Peter could actually see his girlfriend’s ginger cunt stretching around the engorged prick that plundered it. The sight sent perverse chills racing through him. He couldn’t stop himself from jerking on his cock now.
“Spider-Man, you’re going to make me come!” Mary Jane yelled. “Make me come! Make me, you big cocked bastard!”
“I certainly will.” Spider-Man jerked himself out of her cunt.
“No, no!” Mary Jane howled, thrashing on the bed like a woman possessed. “Give it back to me! I was just about to come!”
“Not before me, cunt.”
His cock gushed, sending hot geysers of cum along Mary Jane’s branded stomach, from her red pubes to her breasts. Mary Jane moaned, her hips twisting, almost coming but not quite.
When Spider-Man finished, he shoved his cock at Mary Jane’s mouth like it was a microphone. “Lick it clean, woman.”
Peter watched his girlfriend’s tongue licking at Spider-Man’s cock. The man wouldn’t let her have it in her mouth, so she lapped his seed up in a frenzy.
Then Spider-Man stood at the edge of the bed, his cock projecting before him, still long and thick.
“Ready?” he asked Mary Jane.
“No one could be ready for you. But I want it. I want it so much.”
Peter gasped with surprise.
Spider-Man was ejaculating on Mary Jane once more, but not white—black.
He swung his cock back and forth, turning her tits black, changing the color of her cum-covered stomach, blasting into her pubic hair until it was matted, drenched in black slime.
“Oh yes, I’m coming now, I’m coming too!” Peter heard Mary Jane wail, her hips thrashing wildly, her wrists and ankles fighting the weblines holding her own. “Do it to me! All over me! On my tits! On my hot cunt!”
And as the darkness covered her like wet shadow, the weblines holding her down snapped. The next thing Peter knew, Mary Jane was lunging at him, her body totally black.
***
Peter woke up in a warm sweat, a feeling of feverish dampness pervading him. For a moment, he didn’t know where he was. What’s the last thing you remember? He remembered the NASA shuttle landing going wrong, him saving the astronauts, and then… he didn’t recall. There was something black in his memories, something on the shuttle—like smoke only liquid—but he couldn’t remember anything other than that.
He must’ve gone home. He was in his own bed, still wearing his costume. It was black… must’ve been burnt or covered in soot in the crash landing. That would explain it. And…
Peter had the guilty, but relieved feeling of having had a wet dream. He could feel his groin, damp and overwarm, as if he were in someone’s… mouth.
Groaning, Peter got up, stripped his mattress, and tossed the dirty bedding at his laundry machine as he went to the bathroom. He tore off his suit as well, throwing it onto the pile too, and went to the shower. The water was warm and soothing. Peter let it run over him for what felt like hours before washing up and stepping out. As he dried himself with a towel, he caught a glimpse of his body in the mirror.
No scars. No bruises. In fact, he looked more muscular than before. The spider-bite had given him six-pack abs and firm definition all over, but now he was… big. His shoulders were broad, his pectoral muscles expansive, even his neck was thicker. The enhancement continued down the narrowing of his waist and hips, into well-muscled legs and… Peter took the towel away from his crotch. He’d been above average before, but now he was a fucking horse. His manhood dangled down to his knees, as thick and full around as a firehose with the water turned off. Peter gave his newly impressive length a tap and was surprised by the heft in it. Even limp, it was heavy and firm. He wondered just how it would get when he got hard.
So what the hell happened? Could it be the spider-bite is still affecting me? That I’m still changing? That seems unlikely, but didn’t the Hulk go from gray to green? The Thing go from some sort of mud monster to a rock monster? And the Beast used to have to only shave his face. Maybe that’s why I’m missing time. The shuttle crash had nothing to do with it, this is just when another metamorphosis kicked in. What would that be like—I’d feel tired, go home to rest, then just black out while my body changed. I’m probably lucky I still have only two arms and two eyes.
Tying the towel around his waist, Peter went to start the laundry. He was shocked when he picked the suit up and found it felt warm, like it’d just come out of the dryer. And clean. He felt all over it and found no trace of any… nocturnal activity. And the soot, if that’s what it was, didn’t seem to be coming off or coloring his hands. It was more like the whole suit was dyed.
Okay, so, what, I save the shuttle, I feel tired… I dye my suit, then I go home… oh, and also I forget running my suit through the washer and dryer and I don’t notice that my shower is cold because the washer is running, in fact I note how warm it is for once… what the hell is going on? Am I losing time again? Maybe I have a concussion. Seems unlikely, but it’d be just my luck to get concussed the same day I have my big Pokemon evolution.
At least he felt great. No nausea, no tiredness, no soreness. In fact, he felt better than ever. Usually he had at least some lingering pain from supervillains beating him up all the time, or drowsiness from never getting enough sleep, but he felt like a million bucks… or like Tony Stark’s bank account, in fact.
Wait a minute—how long did I sleep? What day is it? If I did go through some kind of transformation, then my sleep cycle could’ve been longer than eight hours. It could’ve been—
Peter let out a choked gasp as he checked his phone. He’d been asleep five days. The Bugle had probably fired him, or at least moved his name to the bottom of their list of freelancers. He struggled to remember if there were any college papers he’d neglected to turn in that’d been due when he remembered the most important thing of all: Mary Jane! His date with her was tonight! Christ, it was in seven minutes!
Figuring out just what was going on with him would have to wait. Peter threw on his inexplicably black suit, which thankfully felt as clean as it had looked, and webbed up a bundle of clothes to change into for an evening of romance. He’d be cutting it close, but if he started moving right now and Mole Man wasn’t attacking the city, he’d be there to pick his tigress up right on time.
***
At Lou’s Diner, Mary Jane Watson was busily at work serving the evening rush. Things slackened off eventually—if they didn’t always, maybe she could trouble Lou for a raise. In the lull, she paid more attention to the people that came in. She noticed one table of young businessmen paying a lot of attention to her. One of them, a handsome blond in his thirties, was a regular. Maybe he’d recommended the place to his friends. Mary Jane returned his smiles as she passed back and forth in front of their booth.
Then she noticed one Peter Parker had sat down in her section.
“Hey, MJ,” he said bashfully. “We still on for tonight?”
Mary Jane gestured to her waitress uniform. “Does it look like we’re on for tonight?”
“I kinda thought you might’ve asked to get off early.”
“Oh, tiger, I would love to get off early, but it looks like I can’t count on you for that. Five days! No calls, no texts, I haven’t seen one hair on your head, and don’t think I don’t know what it’s about!”
Mary Jane stomped off, making Peter wonder if she was coming back. She went across the restaurant to an elderly couple’s booth, asked to borrow their paper a moment, and went back to Peter to slap the news rag down on his table. The cover story was on the Black Cat.
“I guess now that you’re done shacking up in whatever love nest the two of you have, you’ve decided to try some variety. Think again, buddy!”
“MJ, please, there’s nothing going on between me and her. I mean, love nest? Me? Haven’t we met before?”
Mary Jane crossed her arms, conceding without giving away anything that her theory might have a little more to do with paranoia than Peter Parker’s luck with women. “So where have you been?” she snapped, giving up an inch only in her eyes.
“It was the shuttle crash,” Peter said, lowering his voice and grateful no one had noticed the altercation. Thankfully, this was New York, and as long as nothing broke, people would hopefully keep their noses down and mind their own business. “I must’ve taken a blow to the head, knocked myself for a loop, because I’ve been asleep ever since.”
“Asleep?” Mary Jane cried. “You expect me to believe that?”
“Well, did you check at my apartment?”
She sat down across from him to commiserate. “I phoned you there!”
“Phones can be turned off.”
“You looked fine last time I saw you,” Mary Jane argued. “You swung away from that landing without a scratch, just that weird black gunk on you…”
Black gunk? Peter thought, the phrase triggering some déjà vu with him… but it was just as quickly forgotten. In a state like this, Mary Jane would not appreciate being ignored. “I’m telling you, I was knocked out. Dead to the world. Hey, hey, you tell me—has Black Cat been seen in the past few days?”
“Yes,” Mary Jane snarled unhappily.
“Was Spider-Man with her?”
Mary Jane set her lips in a flat line.
“There you go. You know how she is—if we were shacked up, there’s no way she wouldn’t have us out heroing together.”
“Maybe she was nursing you back to health.”
“Oh, for the love of—“
Mary Jane burst out laughing at his consternation. “Sorry, sorry! You just looked so—flustered! Alright, okay, I give. You’re a decent guy, Peter Parker. If you were having five days of tantric sex with the Black Cat, you’d at least admit it.”
“Brag about it, you mean.”
“Oh, do not push it, tiger.” Mary Jane got back up, dusting off her apron. “You still have to wait for my shift to be over. Some of us didn’t think to ask for time off because their boyfriends gave every impression they were having marathon sex sessions without them.”
***
When Mary Jane finished work, she was full of energy, full of the need for something to happen to her. She gathered up her coat and her purse from the backroom and went out to meet Peter.
“One drink,” she said. “I deserve to punish you just a little—you might’ve thought about Felicia.”
Peter’s eyebrows arched meaningfully. “Why don’t we have a drink here? Your car’s right outside; you can drive straight home afterwards.”
They sat in a dark booth and talked. It was all courting ritual, pregnant with sexual tension. The more they talked to each other, the more drinks they knocked back, the more electric became the suppressed passion that they felt for one another.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, MJ.” His hand snaked under the table and he stroked her thigh along the edge of her uniform. “I’ve always had a weakness for redheads. I just hope you’re a natural one.”
“Looking to check?”
Mary Jane felt stupid, but she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was lost in his warm brown eyes, in the softness of his hand as it caressed her thighs. She was vaguely aware that he was working his hand gradually up under her dress, over her stockings. When his fingers finally touched her bare flesh, she closed her eyes and sighed. The intensity of her own desire astonished her. His simple touch on her thigh made her whole body pulse with need. Already she could feel her womanhood drawing open, becoming wet with passion, with hunger.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Right now, Peter, I feel red all over,” she said, her full red lips tilted up towards him, begging to be kissed, or at least touched. There were so many things she wanted Peter to do with her lips at the moment.
Peter obliged her hunger, moving his mouth eagerly over hers, giving her his tongue to feast on. And giving her his fingertip, grazing over her mound through the thin denial of her panties. Peter could feel his manhood growing large, engorged with blood, as her tongue urged him on, her moans urged him on.
She was begging for it.
Peter didn’t intend to disappoint her.
“Let’s go outside, MJ. We can talk more privately. It’s getting stuffy in here anyhow.”
Wordlessly, Mary Jane took his hand and was led by him out of the bar. She didn’t care where they were going. All that mattered for her was the aching emptiness down in her hungry little cunt. She wanted to be full. She wanted to be so full she could never possibly feel empty again.
They headed for the back park of the parking lot, where Mary Jane had parked her car when she arrived at work. Now the lot was full of cars. Her own was away from the streetlights, dark and intimately private. It took her a while to find it with Peter’s nearness buzzing in her senses.
“Nice and dark back here,” Peter said. “Don’t you like the dark?”
“Depends what we’re doing in it.”
Peter cupped her face in his hands and met her mouth with his. His tongue searched over hers hungrily, demanding she respond to him.
“Mmmm, nngh!” Far from fighting him, Mary Jane submitted easily. She lay her purse and coat on the hood and abandoned herself to Peter’s so-obvious need for her.
She wouldn’t go all the way—she was still a little mad at him, and at herself for overlooking the right answer if he really was telling the truth about having a concussion. So she’d only kiss him for a few minutes, she told herself. Just one more kiss. Two more. Three.
She might have even remembered how many times she’d let him kiss her if Peter hadn’t reached under her skirt and slipped a hand to her pussy.
“Oooohhhh… Peter, my God!” Her voice was a low, urgent whisper. It fired every need, every possessive feeling Peter had for her. He had to give this beautiful redhead what she wanted!
“Uuuhh!” she cried when his hand found her panties’ waistband and worked its way underneath. “Hnn! Fuck!” His fingertips on her clitoris were like being shocked. Her whole body trembled with the electrical charge that felt like it was passing through her.
“Do you want it, MJ? Do you want to be fucked?”
Without thinking of the consequences, or of where they were, Mary Jane answered with an urgent “Please!” Her lips worked hungrily against his as she felt him tear away her panties like they were made of tissue. She was vaguely aware of their dainty whiteness falling to the pavement, slightly more than invisible in their virginal pallor, no matter how torn and useless they now were.
Her more immediate impression was of a cold rush of air between her legs, up to her wet pussy. It was delicious! It was only a small fraction of what she was going to get when Peter really started touching her! Her cunt clenched hard in need.
While one hand held Mary Jane close to him, the other pulled down the fly of Peter’s trousers. His costume was already out of the way, letting his descending zipper release the hard shaft of his manhood. It pulsed with hungry anticipation, seemingly eager as Peter was for the wet clasp of warm pussy.
In the distance, they could hear the voices of people walking to or from their parked cars. But they ignored them. Fear of discovery was the least of their concerns at the moment. Peter shoved his cock at her needy hole, and with its enhanced size, Mary Jane’s sex resisted. She was pushed back against her car door instead of taking him in. But Peter would not be denied. He drove roughly forward and this time Mary Jane yielded—all of her.
“Ohhhhh! Oooooh, God!” Mary Jane bit her shoulder to keep from crying out any louder. The last thing she needed was one of Peter’s fellow superheroes flying to the rescue, thinking she was being murdered.
But the sensation was so intense, the throbbing girth of his cock so overwhelming, that it was impossible for her to keep quiet. She moaned loudly as her hands clutched at his shoulders, his back, his ass through his wet clothes. No, they didn’t feel wet, they felt—slimy…
Mary Jane had more pressing concerns. The angle of penetration was a little difficult—Peter seemed taller than before—so Mary Jane spread her legs wide to allow Peter to do whatever he wanted. She felt completely wanton, a total whore, to be fucking a man in a parking lot. But thinking about her own debauchery just made her even more aroused. She loved being kinky like this. She loved indulging herself to the point of getting exactly what she wanted. And she hated being frustrated and sex-starved like she had been for five long days.
Peter had known what he was getting into when he started dating a redhead.
Her bare ass ground against the cool metal of the car door, the painfully intense sensation increasing her arousal even more. The excitement of doing what she wasn’t supposed to, of doing what she made men want to do, what she wasn’t supposed to let a man do. She rubbed her ass purposefully harder against the searing chill, before grinding her pelvis forward to swallow Peter’s shaft.
“Shit, that’s the way! Move that cute little ass of yours!” Peter must’ve forgotten just what a whore Mary Jane could be. She was acting like she hadn’t been fucked ina year, but he suspected that she was this way every time she screwed—that she just loved to be fucked.
And from now on, she would be fucked by him.
He reached down and gripped Mary Jane’s ass. His fingers massaged the firm hills of her buttocks while his cock fucked rhythmically into her cunt. He loved the way she was working at it, needing it as much as he did, fucking him just as much as he was fucking her.
“Christ, that feels so good!” she grunted, her teeth clenched. “Shit, I wanted you so bad, Peter! I wanted your cock to feel oh so good in me, and it does, it does!”
Her obscene words goaded Peter on. He would have liked to have kept fucking her for hours, to try it every way he could think of until there was no room in her for any more cum. But he knew that if they kept going like this, eventually they’d be discovered. After all, they were out in the open, only a few yards away from a busy street.
Peter turned her around, bending her over the hood of the car, then reaming her hard and deep from behind. Mary Jane didn’t see the change that came over Peter—like a shadow passing over him, only it stayed there no matter the light, all but two enormous white eyes set in his faceless visage and the semblance of a spider on his broad, muscular chest. She didn’t see, but she did feel. He was fucking her harder, faster, giving her as much as she could take, and she knew she would come for it. For him.
“Oh, oh… oooooohhhhh! Shit, Peter, you’re… fuck, OHHHHH!”
She felt like she was going out of her mind. Her cunt was throbbing with passion, sending agonizing amounts of pleasure throughout her gyrating body. She knew Peter could give her the biggest orgasm she could ever ask for, and she fell into lockstep with his body, following his lead, doing anything she could to help him bring them both to climax. Planting her splayed feet firmly on the ground—and, incidentally, stepping on her own shredded panties—she slammed her pussy back to meet the eager thrusts of his cock.
With no idea of the hulking monster behind her that she was coupling with, Mary Jane closed her eyes and let the sensation become more and more intense, more and more unavoidable, until at last it carried her away. Beyond pleasure, beyond pain, beyond herself—until she was only the lust that Peter felt. And then, the satiation of that lust.
“Uuuuhhh! Oooohhh… yes…”
By the trancelike contentment in her faint voice, Peter knew she was coming. By the fact that her tense muscles hadn’t relaxed, he knew she wasn’t stopping. The thought made him laugh. This horny redheaded bitch was getting off in a city parking lot because she was so hot for him. She’d definitely earned a reward.
“I’m doing it!” Peter growled into Mary Jane’s ear. Not that he thought she had heard him. Her orgasmic pussy still hadn’t unclenched. “I’m filling your sweet cunt with my cum.”
Peter couldn’t remember ever coming so long or so hard. Mary Jane’s body seemed to demand every last drop from him. It took long minutes—Mary Jane still didn’t unclench—but finally he was empty. Pumped dry.
Content.
He’d not only had the fuck of a lifetime, he’d given one to Mary Jane as well.
When Mary Jane finally opened her eyes, her face resting against the hood of her own car, her lips were locked in a lazy, sensual grin. She looked smug, pleased with herself.
“Feel good?” Peter asked her.
“So good.”
Mary Jane turned to kiss him a long, languorous goodbye and saw, suddenly, a black, toothsome beast where Peter had been. She didn’t panic. She didn’t scream. She didn’t feel at all used or abused.
Her cunt was tingling happily as a tentacle erected itself from the blackness that pooled over Peter, swaying over Mary Jane’s face like a scorpion’s tail before going completely still. Aimed at her mouth.
Mary Jane made no attempt to turn her face away, even though on some level she knew what was coming. It felt like… she deserved it.
Black ejaculate—like viscous oil—spurted from the tentacle, glistening darkly on a straight line to its target. It covered her face, her hair, her breasts, and flowed downward like a shower spray washing clean her sweaty body. Mary Jane gasped as the shadowy stream splashed against her. She did not feel anything was amiss at all. She felt strong, independent, and sensual. She had gone with Peter to enjoy herself, to feel pleasure, and now the same thing was happening. She was living for herself, enjoying life, being Mary Jane Watson the Amazing Spider-Girlfriend.
And it felt so… sexy.
***
Peter woke up in bed the next morning again not knowing how he had gotten there. Okay, Petey, maybe it’s time we start discussing mandatory retirement. Let the New Warriors bust their skulls against people’s fists. Leave it to X-Factor. See if any of Avengers West Coast want to take over the Goblin-fighting business.
A moment later, it came to him, a little fuzzy, but there. He’d went to meet with Mary Jane and after a little friction, a good time had been had by all. And in a parking lot, at that. Well, that’s what you got for dating MJ. The lady was the party, no matter where she went or what she was doing.
Funny, though. He could recall doing something she had really liked just before the finish, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what the move had been. This is why you don’t usually drink, remember Parker?
And he did remember—remember how good it had been to ditch the Tenchi Muyo act and just get his dick wet with a girl. He seemed to recall coming a lot the other night, but now that he thought about how Mary Jane had felt—tighter than she usually was, tighter than she’d ever been before, like he was taking her virginity all over again—he was really in the mood to do it all over again.