Felicitations Part 1 (Patreon)

Felicia lay naked in bed, listening to the rain hit her building. He really wasn’t coming. Peter was not her boyfriend anymore. She’d gone out and robbed a joint, but even that hadn’t put a dint in her frustrations. Nor had spilling out her loot—all the cash money and one ornate scepter—onto her bed and lying upon it, momentarily using the scepter as a backscratcher. She was in for a long, lonely night.

And why? Why? Because Peter couldn’t take someone just as outside the law as he was? Because the same cops who couldn’t arrest the real criminals went after her for stealing from them? She’d gotten away with less than half the loot she should’ve. She was freshly bathed, all made up, with a dab of Spider’s favorite perfume behind each ear and under each breast—young, beautiful, and turned on, every man’s dream. And she was alone. It just wasn’t right.

Felicia bit her lip in frustration, remembering Peter’s cock in her starved cunt, how big it’d been, how satisfying. But he was too much a puritan to give it to her. If only she had gotten to him sooner—when he was young and naïve, willing to accept her lessons in life. She’d seen the news footage. He’d been cute… malleable…

Wiggling about on the actually somewhat uncomfortable bed of cash, Felicia ran her hands over her sleek body. She was somewhat embarrassed about it—not the act, but the fact that she couldn’t get someone to do it for her—but there was no choice. She touched herself. She cupped her tits, squeezing them, molding them, thumbs rubbing her nipples into stiffness. Pushing her vast mammaries upward, she was able to reach them with her mouth, and she lathered both nipples with her tongue as she sucked. All the while she pictured Peter making love to her, his hands soothing her tingling breasts, his tongue hot and wet on her nipples, his hand between her thighs…

“God, yes…” she moaned. “Peter…”

Not the judgmental, responsible man he’d become, but a younger man… a boy, really…

***

Felicia looked her house guest over as he rested on the chaise lounge. It was hard to tell when he was in constant, scurrying motion, but asleep, she could see how his slender frame was packed with muscles, his body hard and trim, but obviously young. From her experience, she guessed that he was only eighteen, perhaps even younger. She sipped her tea, waiting patiently as consciousness returned to him. His gloved fingers twitching, his head turning from side to side, lips parting under his mask. He jerked up suddenly, alert and surprised.

“Where am I? What’s going on here?”

“Relax, Spider,” Felicia said, not moving as he took her in. She knew how good she looked, and while the sight of her in an only modesty fastened robe might’ve been intimidating, it wasn’t threatening. Nor was their environment of her swanky penthouse. It wasn’t like she’d left any of her toys out, after all. “You’re safe. In my home.”

“Cat?” he said, belatedly recognizing her without her famous costume. They’d had one or two run-ins and Felicia knew he considered her something of an annoyance, but not a real danger. He checked to see if his mask was on or not, and Felicia guessed he had some way of knowing if it had been removed or not, because he calmed down after he’d checked it.

“You had a fight with Doctor Octopus, got knocked out. I brought you here. Figured you wouldn’t want to wake up in a police station. So what happened? From what little I saw of the battle royale, you looked a little sluggish. Weren’t even quipping that much.”

He sighed. “Serves me right for going into battle sick. But I don’t exactly get sick days with this gig.”

“Oh, poor baby. Let me get you a warm drink…”

His mask might’ve covered all his face, but Felicia could tell he stared as she uncrossed her legs and stood, revealing the hose and garter belt underneath her robe. They stretched seamlessly over her pale skin as her legs pumped, taking her to the kitchen, where she had a pot of chocolate on the stove. She mixed a spoonful into a mug of milk, nuked it in the microwave, and came back. Spider-Man had still not stopped staring at her, and Felicia couldn’t blame him. She knew hot she looked.

“I’m a big fan, Spider. Loved you on the Ed Sullivan Show. So glad you’ve decided to embrace the outlaw lifestyle instead of becoming a boring old Avenger. If only you were a little better at it. The Bugle seems to know all about your heists, but all my colleagues just know you from getting beaten up and taken to jail.”

Spider-Man looked up sharply as she set his hot cocoa down on the coffee table. “I’m not an outlaw. I just have a very, very bad PR guy.”

“Have you tried dressing up in skintight leather with partially exposed cleavage?” Felicia asked innocently. “It works wonders for me.”

“Got an editorial about skintight spandex and rock-hard abs corrupting the youth of America.” Spider-Man pulled up his mask to over his nose, taking the cocoa and drinking some. His jaw was crisply square, clean-shaven, with white teeth underneath his chapstick lips. It confirmed Felicia’s suspicions that he was quite handsome, though from the way he carried himself this was subconscious knowledge, and not something he actually knew. “Why are you doing this? Why help me?”

“Consider it my charitable donation. If I paid taxes, you’d be my write-off. I make an awful lot of money, you save an awful lot of lives… I should be taking care of you. Subsidizing you. Giving you the support you need to keep saving people and jailing crooks. Well… some crooks.”

“I can take care of myself,” Spider-Man protested.

“Oh? You look flushed. In fact, I think you’re running a temperature.” She came over to him, putting her hand on his forehead. It was hot even through the mask.

Spider-Man lurched away from her, deeper into the cushions he was lying on. “It’s just hot in here. And the costume’s a little stuffy. And I always run a little warm after I get my ass kicked.”

“Now, Spider, is that the truth?” Felicia asked, sweeping her white hair from her brow, leaning in on him so her breasts were thrust in his face.

She could see how he stiffened, confronted with ripe breasts only inches from his face. Felicia waited for him to lean forward, smother himself in them, but he was too young and inexperienced to meet her halfway. He lay there, squirming, as Felicia petted his hair through the mask. Her tits right in front of his face. His prick throbbing harder and harder.

“You’ve definitely got a temperature, little man. Why don’t you lie down in my bed? It’s much more comfortable. I’ll get a thermometer and take your temperature.”

Spider-Man shook his head. Probably wanted to go someplace private where he could jack off while thinking about her. Felicia wasn’t offended by the notion, but she would rather be nearby while he did it. Someplace where he could come all over her.

“I’ll be fine, I should go—“

Felicia put her hand under his chin, raising his face until her own gorgeous reflection was in his mask’s lenses. She knew how striking her blue eyes were, put full force against his. He could not be looking anywhere else. “I’m not letting you go until I’m sure you don’t have a fever. You’re a hero, Spider. I won’t have you biting the dust because you’re not at a hundred percent. Especially with that cute ass you’ve got.”

She smiled, canting her head at just the right angle so now he could see nothing but her luscious lips. And, as if hypnotized, Spider-Man nodded his head. Felicia never felt his eyes leave her gleaming lipstick. He wanted to kiss her. Almost as much as she wanted him to.

She grabbed his arm and helped him up. He was still weak, stumbling against her for support. Or maybe just to wrap his arm around her waist, feel some of her lovely flesh through the thin white robe. Felicia, for her part, glanced at his crotch and almost burst out laughing. Definitely a teenager. She was good, but not good enough to give someone that big a hard-on with just a little show and tell.

She couldn’t wait to have it out in the open.

Her robe fell even further open as she led him to the bedroom, a bare shoulder slipping out as it sagged down her body. She picked up a pillow and turned around as she fluffed it, holding it in front of her crotch. The open robe revealed a broad swath of skin right down the middle, broken only by the hanging, loosening belt, giving the impression that she was naked from the waist down, though behind the pillow, her panties still hid her.

She could see Spider-Man shaking. She turned again, setting the pillow down, then pulled Spider-Man to the bed, never turning his front to him. It was a neat little feather dance as she turned away just as he laid down, letting him see the robe further slip from her as she went to fetch the thermometer. It shimmied down over her bare back just as she closed the door behind her, then Spider-Man was alone with her bed and the smell of her and her bra discarded on the bedspread.

She reappeared, the belt of her robe retied, its material once more covering her. Now it was pulled so tight that her breasts could be seen through the thin cloth, her whole body outlined and silhouetted and almost on display for him.

Felicia shook the thermometer as she approached him. He thought she didn’t, behind the concealing mask, how his eyes were following her swaying hips, but that was of course the only reason they swayed. “Comfortable?”

He was tense, desperate to jump out of bed and run somewhere where he could deal with all his urges, but also needing more of the sight of her, the closeness of her. “I’m really alright,” he said unconvincingly. “I should go…”

“Not before I take your temperature.” His mask was still above his lips. “Open wide, now.”

Spider-Man opened his mouth, then his teeth closed around the thermometer. Felicia sat down next to him, her ass resting against his waist.

“You’re really sweating,” Felicia said, running her hand over his throat. “You must be really hot. Let’s get that shirt off. What’s the harm? I can’t very well know your secret from your stomach.”

If Spider-Man tried to protest, it was muffled by the thermometer he obediently kept clasped in his teeth. Felicia pulled the shirttails from the waist of his pants, out from under some kind of belt that cleverly concealed the join in the two halves of his costume. She pushed the shirt up his chest, running her hands over his wiry muscles as she did so.

“Oh! You’re burning up, Spider. Sit up, now. I need that shirt off.”

Spider-Man trembled, the thermometer bobbing in his mouth as he was helped up into a sitting position, his body pressing up against Felicia’s, her breasts brushing against his sweaty chest. She could hear him moan, torn between staying and going. Felicia leaned in just a little closer as she peeled his shirt up his limp arms, letting her warm breath play at the nape of his neck. When the shirt had cleared his head, he saw that Felicia’s face was right next to his. Her lips inches from his.

Then she let him lie back down, his sweaty back taken by the cool bedspread. Felicia hid her laughter behind a smile. “Oh, Spider—I think I know why you’re sweating! That would make me sweat too…”

Felicia’s eyes were down at his manhood, stingingly erect, and Spider-Man’s were drawing up in his head. Felicia could tell just from the angle of his head. He was wishing he was dead, thinking he’d ruined things.

“It can’t be comfortable,” Felicia said. “Having a big thing like that stuck in such tight pants. We’ll let it out. You’ll rest easier that way…”

The thermometer quivered like a broken metronome in Spider-Man’s mouth as Felicia reached for him, her fingers grazing the tented bulge in his pants. It lurched and throbbed, trying to get into her grip. Felicia ignored it for now, gripping the waistline of his pants. “Just pretend I’m your mother,” Felicia said. “I promise not to look.”

And she jerked his pants down.

Gasped.

He hadn’t been fully erect before. More like half-hard, and the costume had done a lot to hide just how aroused he’d been. Now she could see the precum dripping from his cockhead, smell it on the inside of his pants, see just how big he really was. It wasn’t hard for Felicia to pretend to be awed.

“Spider! Good God! Is that for me?” A blush turned Spider-Man’s exposed face crimson, matching the mercury rising in his thermometer. “I guess I should apologize. I didn’t know I was… affecting you like that. I mean, how could I know you like girls, running around in that outfit… was that really me?”

Spider-Man nodded his head.

“I’m so sorry,” Felicia said in a consoling voice, pulling the covers over Spider-Man’s namesake… at least, the second half of it. “But it looks like we have something in common. I’m not exactly… unaffected at the moment.”

“What?” Spider-Man demanded, packing into that one word how he couldn’t believe his ears, how he’d sooner believe he was going crazy, how he was just full of cum and couldn’t believe he wasn’t getting it out…

Felicia bit her lip. He really was cherry. She’d dropped enough hints to start a gangbang at a nunnery, and he hadn’t even tried to kiss her. She had him, she knew she did. It was time to reel him in.

Slowly, Felicia lifted the hem of her robe. Up, up, up her thighs. “See, Spider, women get excited, same as men. Look. C’mon, Spider. Just look…”

The thermometer fell from Spider-Man’s mouth, rolling gently down into his clavicle.

“This is my pussy, Spider. Ever seen one before?”

Spider-Man shook his head vigorously, the doll.

“Doesn’t matter. None of them look as good as mine. And it gets excited, just like you do. My clitoris gets nice and firm, just like your cock. See it?”

Spider-Man nodded, thank God. With Felicia sitting the way she was, he should be able to see to her womb…

“When I look at you… look at your body… that big cock, and it is big, Spider, really big… my pussy gets all wet. Can you see how wet I am, Spider?”

Another nod.

“Do you want to feel how wet I am?”

Spider-Man gulped so hard, the thermometer rolled off his throat and onto the bed, making a little ping against the sheets. He stared right into the core of Felicia’s wet, warm cunt. Finally, he managed to nod his head, one last time.

Felicia picked up his hand like it was a beloved pet, removing the glove, kissing and stroking the sweat-damp hairs in back of his hand, kissing the knuckles, even sucking on his forefinger.

“Oh… whoa…” Spider-Man groaned.

Then Felicia took his hand and brought his fingers against the lips of her pussy, rubbing them there, letting him feel just how ready she was to be entered.

“Oh, goddamn…” Felicia moaned.

“Did I hurt you?” Spider-Man asked, sounding hopelessly confused.

“Oh, no. It felt good. So goddamn good…” She drew the sheets away from his cock. It was just as hard as before. “Just like this…”

And she touched him. Squeezed him. Rubbed him. Felt a tug as Spider-Man pulled at her panties, and lifted her legs so he could work them off. She jerked on his cock. He fingered her pussy. She laid on his chest, watching her hand travel his shaft, his hand at work between her legs, breathing and moaning and feeling his body burn so very hot. She was amazed at how much was leaking from the tip of his cock. Where was all that precum stored?

Didn’t matter. Soon it would be all hers.

“We’re gonna fuck now, Spider.” Felicia rolled over onto her stomach, drawing the pillow from the other side of the bed to down under her hips, lifting her ass comfortably high. Making it a particularly appetizing target. “I’m all horny… and juicy… ready to be fucked hard.”

***

When she’d first started fucking herself, Felicia had felt ridiculous, but as her need grew, she got used to it. Peter was the only one who could satisfy her urges—without him, his stamina, his strength, what was there to do but this or give up sex completely? Sure, she could get a quick fuck anywhere, but not the hard, marathon sessions she got when she had Peter on the hook.

So she lay in bed alone, running a stiff finger along the folds of her sex, giving herself a weak buzz of pleasure. Soon, she would move onto the good stuff, even with the inevitable disappointment of it not truly measuring up. There was no hurry, though. No big rush like there was with Spider. At least this way, she knew how to get herself off. How to string out the pleasure and make it last as long as she wanted. Or until her wrist cramped. Sometimes it was the latter, sometimes the former.

Her kneading fingers brought her right to the edge of climax, then slowed. She rolled her clit gently under her other hand, hovering right at the brink of coming, not yet going over the edge. Sweet agony. She ached to climax, but didn’t want it to be as low-key as she knew it would be.

“God, Goooooood,” she moaned.

***

Spider-Man fucked her hard, crouched behind her like a dog, squeezing her tits underneath her as he raced his cock into her pussy. Felicia lay comfortably in her relaxing position, thinking that she could stay for hours like this. And it was possible her Spider-Man would last that long.

“Come on, Spider!” Felicia wiggled and humped her ass against him, biting her lip as her slippery pussy slid over the driving power of his cock. “That’s right, fuck me hard! Harder!”

The phone rang just as Spider-Man was finding his rhythm, groping Felicia’s breasts and hammering her cunt, his preternatural balance keeping him poised over her despite his inhuman stance. Felicia laughed happily—just perfect—and stretched her arm off the bed, picking up her mobile from the nightstand. Spider-Man paused and she slapped her ass, signaling him to keep going. She wasn’t going to let him stop fucking her for someone too stupid to text her.

“What is it?” Felicia demanded into the receiver, lazily humping her pussy onto Spider-Man’s cock. Despite her wishes, he’d slowed down.

“Everything’s set up for the Montgnerro Job. Eddie got the plans, Bill’s got the drill. You’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Oh yes.” Felicia smiled to herself. “I’ll be coming.”

Felicia hung up the phone and giggled as she threw her pussy back against Spider-Man’s cock, slamming her ass into his muscular loins, grinding her sex against his.

“What was that about?” Spider-Man asked, gliding his big cock easily into her, finally responding to her body’s rhythm, finding that special pleasing pattern once more.

“Just a job I’ll be pulling tomorrow,” Felicia sighed. “You know… breaking in somewhere… stealing some shit… you don’t mind, do you?”

“No,” Spider-Man said, and Felicia shivered like an animal as her well-stuffed sex throbbed with pleasure. With satisfaction. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Mmmmm… that sounds about right… but never mind that now, just fuck me, just fuck my pussy good, that’s it, that’s right, that’s—“

Spider-Man redoubled the intensity of his thrusting, hammering himself in and out of her cunt. Felicia could no longer speak, just groan as she whipped her ass up to meet his penetration, the bed shaking with their coupling.

“Your pussy,” Spider-Man gasped, like a man in a trance, “your wet pussy…”

Felicia’s mouth fell open as he stopped. Trying to figure out why her pussy was throbbing and clenching around his cock. Felicia didn’t seem to mind his pause. For nearly a minute she was eerily silent, and it was all Spider-Man could do to keep from coming as her pussy continued its pulsing.

“Coming,” Felicia said at last. “Unh… unh… yes!” She moaned and lay exhausted under him, yet still almost painfully aroused. “Oh… you could’ve fucked into me as hard you liked… I would’ve loved it…”

“I didn’t want to come,” Spider-Man said.

“You mean you haven’t?” Felicia said in genuine surprise. She thought he had, and she’d just missed it, lost in her own pleasure. “Oh, you man… you wonderful man… keeping that big fucker stiff for me…” She tightened her sex on his rod, feeling just how hard he was. Hard and still full of cum. “You know what would make me really happy?”

“What?”

“Two things. One, if you told me your name. And two, if you fucked my ass.”

***

There were many ways for Felicia to bring herself to orgasm, but only one that truly reminded her of Peter. She bunched three fingers together, gave them all at once to her famished little cunt. They were almost as thick as his cock, though not as long.

“Yess,” Felicia groaned. “Oh, shit, yes!”

She stuffed herself with her bunched fingers, pushing them as deep as she could go, almost believing that it was Peter thrusting into her, what she craved most, what she needed.

“Yes, Peter, yes!” she squealed.

It wouldn’t take her long to get off. She could come at any time. But she felt like prolonging it, denying herself like Peter might, trying to be mad at her but always giving in and satisfying her. The bittersweet sensation of having this delicious feeling as long as she could.

Felicia touched herself slowly and deeply, moaning with delight, only gradually approaching the orgasm she so desperately needed until finally, she hovered at the brink once more. Gorging herself on the throbs she got from every thrust of her fingers. It would be easy to make herself come—as easy as surrendering to Peter ever had been—but it was so nice to stretch out the fun, to make the pleasure last until it was almost pain. She stroked herself gently, deeply, and saturated her fingers with the cat’s own cream.

***

His mask joining Felicia’s robe and lingerie on the floor, Peter withdrew his wet cock from Felicia, the cat burglar gasping as he spread her ass cheeks with his hands. They might’ve been gleaming with lubricant, but he had no difficulty holding onto them. He aimed his cockhead at her rosy opening, and Felicia, naked but for her pantyhose, whimpered as she felt him boring into her ass.

“Fuck my asshole, Peter,” she sighed lovingly, rocking tirelessly against the penetration he offered. “Fuck my asshole and fuck it deep!”

Peter drove himself into her tight ass, eager to fuck his new girlfriend all night. She tingled all over with pleasure. Any fears about letting such a big dick into her ass were burnt away by the heat of her anticipation. Spider-Man, superhero, teenager, good guy, had just fucked her cunt. Now he was going to do the same to her asshole. The wickedness of it heightened Felicia’s pleasure like an opiate.

Peter moved his cock inside Felicia’s hole, holding the firm, rounded cheeks of her ass wide apart so he could see how every centimeter of her sphincter stretched to take him inside. Felicia wiggled her ass around his cock, turning her head to look back over her shoulder at him with a pleased, sexual smile. Every bulldozing stroke of his cock was met with a wanton little jerk of her hips, offering up her penetration to him as shamelessly as she’d presented the rest of her body. Feelings hot and wicked were mounting within her, things she knew she wouldn’t be able to control, and Felicia didn’t want to.

It was his heavy testicles slapping against her sex, the friction of a big cock in her ass, the sheer youth of the man fucking her, a thousand other things mingling together to take Felicia’s pleasure far beyond the simple sensation of being sodomized. She wanted more. Like a drug, she was addicted, and best of all, she knew her virile young lover could give it to her. She only wished it could go on forever, but it wasn’t so bad that eventually, Peter would come inside her. It just meant she could corrupt him even further. Show him how to fuck her tits, or use her throat as just another fuck-hole. Maybe even learn to be part of a team and help her commit a robbery—or help someone else to fuck her. As good as he was, he only had one prick, after all. Unless he could get very creative with that webbing of his…

Peter listened as Felicia’s guttural whispers grew loud, her pleasure obviously mounting. Her sex was dripping, juices simply running out of her emptiness, while her firm, succulent ass wagged and twisted against him, moving back and forth around his cock with her hips swaying from side to side.

“God, that’s tight,” he grunted, unaware he had spoken until Felicia responded to him.

“It’s because I don’t let anyone—but very special people fuck me there,” Felicia whimpered. “And you’re very special… and your cock feels so good… and I wish I could see it! Make me come just seeing you fuck my ass, Spider!”

“Next time!” Peter promised. “We’ll set up a camera—so we can both watch me fuck your tight little ass—“

“Just the two of us?” Felicia teased, shivering at the deliciously arousing thought.

Peter rammed his cock in and out of her asshole, holding firmly onto her voluptuous hips, watching her fleshy ass ripple from the pounding it was taking. He felt her sphincter tugging at the length of his turgid rod, up and down—milking and sucking him—squeezing his cock like a tightly clenched fist.

“Take it, Cat!” he growled, his voice sounding like nothing he had ever spoken before. “Take it just like that! Show me how much you like my cock up your ass!”

He didn’t need to order Felicia. His cock was giving her all the encouragement she needed. The Black Cat lurched, her ass thrusting back at Peter with shameless need, teeth grinding together as she took his fucking and demanding more. Feeling every inch of his hard young prick inside her, penetrating her like she had never thought possible.

“Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man! It’s never felt like this before! Oh, God, fuck my ass! Give me every inch!”

“I am, Cat!” Peter panted, his eyes locked to the sight of Felicia’s asshole clinging wetly to his cock. “Uhhh! I had no idea what I was missing out on!”

“I know, Spider!” Felicia mewled. “The only trouble is, I was missing out on it too!”

“You’re not gonna miss out on anything!” Peter promised her. “Not ever again!”

Felicia moaned as her new lover quickened the pace of his fucking, her receiving.

“How about two cocks fucking you at once?” Peter grinned. “One in that horny cunt of yours… the other fucking your tight ass! You’d like that, wouldn’t you Cat?”

“Yes! Yes, I would! Two cocks at once! I’d fucking love it!”

Felicia could feel his cock pulsating inside her, just as good in her asshole as it had been in her cunt. God, it would be just as good anywhere, between her tits, in her hand, just so long as it was hers. She’d liked to just be able to look at it in those damned, teasing tights, knowing that when he took them off, it was all for her.

Felicia twisted her hips, grinding backward onto his cock, squealing excitedly as more went into her ass, more, always more.

“Uhh! Uhh! Uhhh!” Peter grunted, stabbing deeply. “You’re still so fucking tight!”

Felicia reached for her cunt, sliding two fingers instantly inside herself. She jammed them in deep, rubbing her aching clit with the heel of her hand. She could feel her flesh jittering like an earthquake with Peter’s cock slamming into it, in and out of her quivering ass.

“Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass! Mmmmmm, make me feel your cock going in all the way! I love it! I love you fucking my brains out!”

Driven wild by her wanton need, Peter jammed his cock into her ass as hard as he could. Felicia simply whimpered with pleasure, trying to fuck her cunt just as deeply with fingers that were simply not up to the task. Erotic excitement raced through her heated flesh. She could feel her man’s cock in her ass from the fingers in her cunt. Every time he pulled back, she thrust her fingers deep inside herself. The drag of his cock in her ass while her own fingers speared her cunt burned her brain like electric fire.

Felicia’s clit bulged under her hand, a tight little knot of pleasure as her mind fled to even more lewd, exciting fantasies… images of two Spider-Men, ridiculous as that was, fucking her at the same time, one in her cunt, one in her ass, cocks as hard as steel, filling her body until it could take no more. Her mind touched ultimate rapture. She was coming again. Or had she ever stopped?

“I want you to come, Cat!” Peter demanded, fucking her ass with frantic thrusts, the wet sounds of her pussy and the slaps of flesh against flesh nearly drowning out her voice. “Come all over your fingers while I fuck! Your! Ass!”

For once in her life, Felicia obeyed, pushing her hips at Peter with wild abandon as he pounded her ass just as savagely, strong rapid thrusts that shook her whole body, breasts bounding, ass jiggling, hair flying about them like debris from an explosion.

“Ooooh, FUCK! I’M COMING!” She rubbed her clit frantically, feeling herself come once, twice, she lost count, her orgasms coming in such rapid succession that it was like a chain reaction, a series of bombs going off in her body all at once. “NOW, BABY, NOW! SHOOT IT UP MY FUCKING ASS!”

Peter grunted as he felt her ass squeeze his cock with a tightness that almost seemed like an attack.

“COME IN MY ASS! EMPTY THOSE BIG BALLS UP MY ASSHOLE, I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT SO MUCH! FILL ME UP, PETER! PUT ALL THAT HOT CUM INSIDE ME! IT’S SO GOOD!”

Within seconds, Peter climaxed into Felicia’s quivering ass, and as Felicia felt his hot young cum fill her, she came as well, screaming out in uncontrollable ecstasy. Peter roared as he gave what she wanted, what she needed, what they both did. His cum filled her ass, overflowed it, washing against his pubic hair and pushing it on his cock until he just had to pull out.

More cum flew from his, tracing the lines of Felicia’s back, her strong muscles, her bare shoulders, cum stringing up her spine and pooling in the small of her back, even landing as far as her hair, though it was hard to tell the difference with her pale blondeness. Finally, with Felicia filled and covered and still half-orgasming, Peter ran dry. His cum flowed down Felicia’s body like melting candle wax, a ribbon of it between the globes of Felicia’s ass like she’d won first prize in a contest.

A lock of hair fell from atop Felicia’s head. Clotted with cum, it slapped against Felicia’s cheek, and she returned from her daze as much as she was able. “This is where… all your cum has to go… the next time you’re full, come to me and we’ll take care of it…”

“Alright, but it usually takes an hour or two,” Peter said. “Not that I masturbate too much, though—have to buy a new sock every time…”

Felicia closed her eyes and slept. It might be the last chance she got for a while.

***

Once she had her fingers in, Felicia’s mind raced with the possibilities. Her orgasm had been wonderful—the fantasy superb—but one advantage fantasy had over reality was that there was nothing to pull Peter away from her, no emergency, no obligations. In her mind, Peter was her love slave. Nothing more, nothing less.

Her fingers stayed between her legs, increasing excitement as she thought. She’d always figured if stealing wasn’t so much fun, she could make her fortune thinking up sex toys. She had a fantastic collection of them: vibrators, dildos, a collection of rare and antique toys, whips, chains, even bottles. And there was always something new to try.

Felicia stood, her hand still rubbing idly at her cunt. She went to her dressing table, opening up the drawer with this month’s rotation, selecting a fat plastic dildo for her sex and a nylon string for her ass. She’d put it around the neck of the scepter she’d just stolen, so she could pull it out easily. When she was done with it...

***

The doorbell rang. Felicia managed to rouse herself. Thankfully, Peter wasn’t a cuddler—though perhaps her sleeping covered in cum had discouraged that. She slipped out of bed, drawing up her robe, pulling it tightly around herself—figuring she’d answered the door in worse states. However, when she opened it, all that was there was a simple box.

“What is it?” Peter asked. He was in the doorway to her bedroom, gathering up pieces of his costume, appearing none too shy about his nudity.

“Just something for you to wear after your shower.” She opened it up, revealing the neatly pressed suit inside. “I measured you while you were sleeping, ordered this online. My tailors are very motivated to keep me happy. Can’t wait to see you in it.”

Peter dropped his costume. “Yeah, sure. Where’s the shower, again?”

Felicia smiled. “Let me show you.”

***

Felicia lay spread-eagle on the bed, her dildo and her scepter—appropriate for a queen—between her wide-spread legs. First, though, she adjusted the mirror on the headboard, then piled pillows underneath herself. Soon, the reflection captured her sex and its doomed emptiness, gaping from the recent occupancy of her fingers. Waiting to be filled. She took the scepter and rolled it against her sex to lubricate it, her inner lips stretching over the cool glass as she dipped its head inside herself. Soon, the cylinder had picked up a slippery coating. She pulled it free.

***

All she had to help with was the tie, then he was admiring himself in the mirror. “This is nice,” he said, truthfully. “Be a shame to bundle it up in a web so I can take it home…”

“Oh, you don’t think I’m going to let you swing up and down Manhattan in your condition? Come on. Let me show you the car.”

***

Now that the scepter was greased, she pressed it into the dark spot central her ass, carefully pushing—boring down with her ass until she felt that wonderful, earned sliding. Once her asshole was wide enough, it went in easily, and the feeling of having her ass filled with the bulk of the scepter was heavenly. Before anything else, she wiggled her hips around, letting the delicious feeling fill her and elevate her.

***

The Koenigsegg Agera R was almost too much car for Peter to drive, but with his reflexes, he could handle it like a NASCAR man. They came to his house in Forest Hills, Peter smiling sheepishly as they pulled up to the quaint suburban home.

“I can help you find a penthouse, if you like,” Felicia said. “Don’t worry about the rent, either—so long as you don’t worry about me having a key.”

“That… sounds fine,” Peter said, surprised.

“And speaking of keys…” Felicia tapped the one in the ignition. “Keep it. You need some way to visit me that doesn’t involve shooting goo everywhere. At least, not initially.”

“Felicia, I don’t know what to say!”

“Say that we’ll do this again tomorrow night. I have a museum opening to attend and I’d love to have you on my arm. Perhaps in a nice tux? I’ll send you one. It’ll be boring, but I’m planning an afterparty for you, and that you’ll love.”

“I think I might love it right now,” Peter said, and pulled her into a kiss. Then a lower one, and one that was lower still…

“Oh, Peter! And here I thought I was the one spoiling you…”

His eyes flashed up at her, dancing brightly through the gauzy material of her dress as he swirled his tongue about her inflamed labia. She could see how the taste of her had him trembling, hardening. Felicia laughed and opened up the car’s console. Inside, an ice bucket and a bottle of wine. Just the thing to go with eating out…

***

“Oh, ohh, Peter, you’re making me shake so hard! Suck me, I don’t care if I fall, suck me dry!”

Felicia couldn’t believe it. The scepter fell wonderful in her ass, perfect, and her fantasy was so real, so vivid, it was like someone was actually eating her out. Then she opened her eyes.

Between her legs was a head of white hair, just like her own, her own brash and strong-jawed face looking up at her, mouthing “Yes… ysmphf!” into her cunt as she shook her head around vigorously, like a predator that had caught her prey and was now making the kill.

She drove Felicia to the brink of frenzy, then gently kissed the swollen cunt lips, a soft kiss directly on them, petite and lovely, becoming a dance of her tongue inside Felicia’s dripping sex, a motion of her lips on Felicia’s labia… then the suction of her lips drawing one of Felicia’s labia lips inside her mouth, running over it, letting it in and out of her mouth before releasing it and encircling Felicia’s clit, the cat burglar throwing her thighs wide open, lifting her legs into the air, surrendering to this sex before she even knew what it was. Felicia was coming hard against her doppelganger’s mouth, providing her a supply of cream that seemed barely enough to quench her obvious thirst.

“My name’s not Peter,” the mirror image said. “It’s Felicity. And yes, I like eating your pussy. And no, I don’t know what you’re doing in my bedroom.” Her mouth did not leave the wonderful taste she had discovered. “But you’re definitely staying.”