Not Eddie Brock (Patreon)

Mary Jane turned on the shower and adjusted the spray from the setting Peter’d had it on to narrow jets of warm water. Leaning against the tiles, she hiked her hips up and opened her legs and got positioned just right so that the warm water came down on her sex.

Oh, how sweet it was.

She cupped her breasts in one hand, lifting them one at a time as she lowered her head to suck on her own nipples, grateful to the largeness of her bust for making it possible.

Then, her other hand slippery with soap suds, she fingered her asshole. Positioned against the back of the shower stall, reaming her ass, sucking her nipples, and hot water raining down on her pussy, she figured she had it as good as a single woman could get.

She began to tremble, the thrill coursing through her. The shower stall was two-fours tiled wall, two-fours glass, with the showerhead installed pretentiously above one of the glass walls. She could see her reflection in the droplet-speckled glass, and staring at it, the sight of her cunt became very erotic to her. She wondered what it would be like to eat out a woman’s pussy. Now that she and Peter had had their little conscious uncoupling, maybe she would give it a try.

Maybe I could sixty-nine with another woman, she thought. Get it as I give it. Almost like I’m eating myself out.

Yeah, and maybe Peter could be there, watching her go down on a woman just like he did. He could slam his cock to her when she was wringing and gasping for it—if he didn’t have to be a superhero, or a photographer, or a college student, or a million other things that seemed more important than being her boyfriend…

Suddenly, Mary Jane heard glass shatter. What the fuck? The only glass in her apartment, besides that in her bathroom and the mirror in her bedroom, were the windows. Don’t tell me Peter’s here for some medical attention AND he broke my window. Turning off the shower, Mary Jane got out and heard the bathroom door creak open.

Her naked, exposed body trembled as she turned her head.

It stood in the doorway, but seemed to dominate the whole room. It was some spidery, gangly assembly of black strands, like baling wire strung into a vaguely humanoid art project, with white eyes like two glowing ovals in an apparent head, its vicious mouth partially open to display gleaming white teeth. It was hard to gauge his—its—size, when it wasn’t one whole mass, but some Swiss Cheese blob of kinked-up shadows… but it seemed absolutely massive, like a small horse standing there before her.

Mary Jane tried to scream, nearly choking on her own saliva as the beast leapt agilely up onto the bathroom counter. It licked at its lips, almost like a dog, then raised its head high. It moved toward her until its powerful jaws were right next to her throat. Mary Jane couldn’t move. A monster was going to—going to—the face moved up against hers and sniffed gently at her ear.

Mary Jane tried to find her voice. Should she scream? If anyone heard, surely they’d come to help—wouldn’t they? And maybe… it wouldn’t attack…

The symbiote wagged its head back and forth, surveying the naked human female before it. From its mingled memories with its former host, it had many fond sensations associated with the woman. And with its limited, almost instinctual telepathy, it could sense in her the same mixture of bitterness and affection that it felt for the host Parker. It could use her to reacquire him. It could use her to get revenge on him.

The symbiote moved closer to Mary Jane, lowering itself on the web of tendrils that supported it to lash out with its wet, hot tongue against the smooth flesh of Mary Jane’s belly.

She wanted to scream now, scream at the top of her lungs. Instead she swallowed tightly, watching it move toward her, lower its head--even lick moistly over her tightly muscled belly. She’d done the math. If she called for help, the police might come, but this thing would almost certainly attack. It just didn’t at all seem the type to be scared off by one naked redhead making a racket.

The symbiote licked lower, but not quite low enough. Mary Jane whimpered as incredible sensations spiraled through her, immediately reawakening the unsatisfied desires she had forgotten in her terror. She strained her eyes at the gangly collection of slimy tendrils that encircled her now, seeming to imprison her--trying to read some meaning into those alien eyes. 

But all she saw was it running its long, warm tongue over her soft belly. The tormenting length of its tongue inched higher and higher, until it was lapping at the rounded undersides of her breasts, jiggling them in their buoyant lightness. Mary Jane bit her lip. Whatever this thing was, it knew how to touch her. She held herself very still, torn between hoping it would stop and acknowledging there was pleasure in its unwelcome touch. The head reared up and its tongue creep over her nipples, marble-hard and so, so vulnerable to a warm, wet touch. 

Mary Jane could no longer restrain the little moan that so badly wanted to escape her lips. The tongue wetly grazed first one sensitive nipple, then the other. It moved between them slowly. First, there was the unexpected, half-wanted contact on her left breast, then a long, leaden wait as it moved over to her right… the sudden lick, and a maddeningly aroused spasm whipping through her body.

Oh God… what’s happening to me? This is… this is how Peter used to touch me.

No, no--her terror had clearly frazzled her. Some stray, wild sensation did not mean she was enjoying this. This monster could tear her to pieces if it wanted to. Even if it was being kind now--more than kind--she had to find a way to get help before it was too late. Scream, scream, she thought, but couldn’t let herself. Somehow, she was more afraid of causing her own demise than just being killed.

Shit, she could hardly think with it right there against her, those sharp, gleaming fangs, even if they did contain the fiercely licking tongue that was creating such heat inside her. 

As if sensing her growing discomfort, the tongue withdrew between the teeth, the teeth disappeared inside the monster’s gelatinous exterior. All that was left in the blackness were its blazing eyes, raising to be level with her own. She held her breath as its face moved to meet hers, the warm liquid tongue emerging to tenderly lick over her lips.

Mary Jane reflexively rolled her head away from the almost-kiss it gave her. Was that what it was doing? Yes--somehow, there was no question in her mind that it was trying to reassure her. Tell her it, whatever it was, wouldn’t harm her. Even--in its own way--trying to please her, as she’d tried to please herself, first with Peter and then on her own.

The tongue lapsed out again, and Mary Jane also realized that she was no longer trying to avoid its heated attention, merely closing her eyes tightly and allowing the pleasure to wash over her. Her lips lapsed open, as they would with any kiss when it grew more heated, more intimate...

Abruptly, the tongue withdrew. Mary Jane snapped her eyes open again. God, had she really been--had she opened her mouth and allowed it--didn’t matter now. It was moving down, down between her loosely spread legs. She watched the jack-o’lantern head settle at her open thighs, all eyes and teeth, and slowly it brought out the distended length of its tongue once more. Its heated breath--she could feel it going like a bellows--taunted her damp pubic hair, chilly from the shower and her current bareness. 

The tip of its tongue--cool and wet with a viscous saliva--brushed against the soft, sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. She felt droplets of the slimy spittle roll down her leg. Then, it touched the still flushed lips of her sex. The winding length of that tongue reminded her of how snakes could sniff with their tongues, and she wondered if it was smelling her. What it was smelling. Could it tell that she was... susceptible? Perhaps even excited?

In the wake of that admission, the urge to scream filled Mary Jane again, as if in counterpoint. But even if she’d wanted to, all the breath left her body. She felt the tongue’s flicking tip pass between her legs, up to the rim of her tiny, cringing anus.

“Oh… oh God!” she gasped out, almost as if she were pleading to another person. “Please… please…” 

The tongue, warmer than ever, slicked out to lick up and down the smooth vale between her buttocks, the tip teasingly crossing her anus and its defensively tight rim.

Mary Jane didn’t know if it was fear, shame, or some extreme of pleasure she had felt, but she tried to squirm away, only to feel the glossy tendrils of the thing’s body against her back, locking her in place. She had nowhere to go as the seething tongue licked between her helplessly spread thighs, and she didn’t even know if she wanted to. She could only groan uncontrollably as the tongue’s warmth drew upwards over all of her well-spread pussy. 

“Oh… ooohhh!” The lewd sensations stabbed inward, seeming to reach deep into her sex.

The symbiote did it again, this time its tongue moving between her pussy lips, forcing them to part. It didn’t stop, but continued to relentlessly open the sensitive flesh as it traveled over her. It paused, mockingly, before reaching her clit, then lunged far into her damp sex. Mary Jane gasped and spasmed convulsively, writhing as she was entered. No matter what noise she made or how she contorted herself, it wouldn’t stop. She wasn’t sure she wanted it to.

At that breathless moment, she wasn’t sure of anything but the ardent thrill that was being sent through her obscenely exposed body. Her whimpers increased uncontrollably, while her mind slipped away from the embarrassment of the situation and into a pleasurable oblivion that she could not, did not want to struggle against.

Again and again, the symbiote’s tongue bathed her needful body from her tightly clenched anus to her long-unsatisfied pussy. At its peak, the symbiote hesitated, stopping to flick almost knowingly at the quivering bud of her clit.

Mary Jane could not know how long it went on, only that she was satisfied as long as it continued. The searing tongue licked wildly through and over her sex until she was gasping and squirming her naked body against the bindings that covered her. Unbeknownst to her, they had spread, and by now the cage of tendrils had almost mummified her.

“Yes… yes…” she moaned gutturally as the tongue moved inside her, deeper and deeper, actually stretching her like a well-hung cock. “Stop… you’ll make me come… don’t lick me anymore… won’t be able to stop myself!”

Mary Jane hardly knew what she was saying anymore; her erotic intoxication had made her nothing but id. Then, she sensed the stillness of the pleasure-bringing tongue inside her, the loss of the overpowering passion that’d been building inside herself. She raised her head to gape in confused disappointment. Then the symbiote entered her anus.

She came.

The symbiote came.

And, opening her eyes, Mary Jane saw in the mirror that they were one.