In Every World, In Every Story Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Emma Frost, Karla’s best friend in New York, was the person Karla decided to celebrate her good fortune with. They’d grown up together, Emma the daughter of a wealthy scion, Karla the daughter of the help. Vassar had educated both of them and they’d both started psychiatric practices, New York barely big enough for the both of them.

It’d been a while since Karla had seen Emma, and she was still the ice queen Karla remembered, but also still with a blue twinkle in her eye that made her more interesting than many of Karla’s other conquests.

Emma tried to conquer her too.

Emma entered Karla’s expensive apartment near Central Park and allowed herself to admire the elegant penthouse. She may have been human, but she’d splurged some of her potent income on modern conveniences like floor-recessed furniture that could change any space into a bedroom, a sitting room, or a dining room.

“Wait until you see the pool,” Karla said. “My latest little gadget. I love strutting about in a bikini, but can’t bear being gawked at by people like you are.”

Emma looked around with an expression that would’ve been disdainful if she didn’t greet nearly everything in her life with it. They were in the huge living room of the apartment, the place done up in white with yellow highlights—(awful how Karla tried to redo Emma’s own internal decorator on a slashed budget)—with electronic pictures on the wall that flickered from vacation photos to old masters. There didn’t seem to be any space for so much as a Jacuzzi.

Maybe Karla was finally losing it. Wouldn’t that be delicious?

Karla laughed at her. “Oh, I’m sorry. Of course, you’re not familiar with the latest advances… probably too busy…”

Going to the wall, Karla pressed a few buttons on a board. The floor opened up, two flat panels sliding away on rollers, revealing a box-like pit of some ten cubic feet. The carpets retracted into shiny, hard-surfaced floor as nozzles into the pit fired, water roaring out of them and expanding via Pym Particle once they’d splashed to the floor. The rising, expanding water seemed like it would end up geysering out of the pit, but the nozzles stopped firing inside of a minute, leaving the water to finish its expansion and settle into a complete swimming pool, right in the middle of the living room, the furniture not just avant-garde, but perfect for the poolside. Even the lights switched, shining down a mellow yellow glow on the gently sparkling water.

“Florida in Central Park,” Karla boasted. “Shall we have a swim? I told you to bring your bathing suit. Unless of course you’ve eaten before coming here…”

“Of course not!” Emma snapped. Then, cooler, she undressed herself, revealing the bikini underneath her clothing. Smiling as she did so. Her body was her trump card, exquisitely preserved from the halcyon days of her twenties, and enhanced, of course. She had creamy skin that almost shone, her face was as perfect as ever, her blonde hair a buttery gold. Her breasts were high and almost real, her stomach flat, and the slight bulge of her V daringly half-displayed between her two shapely thighs and their long legs.

“Such a lovely little place you’ve made for yourself,” Emma continued, calmer and more confident now that she had her body on display, its voluptuous curves dwarfing Karla’s sleek, slender frame. “I’m sure when you find someone to share it with, he’s just going to love it. It’s so crazy that you haven’t found the right man yet.”

Karla undressed as well. Unlike Emma, she went naked, showing off her body, everything tight, toned, taut, the dimple of her waist, the gap of her thighs, the slenderness of well-constructed muscle. Easy to be voluptuous, that was just fat, but Karla was tall and willowy and firm. “Oh, I’ve found the right man. Quite frequently, in fact.”

Emma walked down the stairs to the pool, displaying her extravagant wedding ring as she braced herself on the handrail. “As do I. Every time I come home.”

Karla raised a hand to her mouth. “Excuse me, I think something I ate has disagreed with me.”

“I hope that doesn’t put you off your new diet. I think it’s really about to pay off…” Emma began to paddle around the pool, displaying her long legs in breathtaking strokes, her high buttocks smoothly gliding through the water behind her, long supple back rippling with muscle.

Karla watched as she reclined on a lounge chair, facedown, her buttocks firm and round even in the unforgiving light of the sun lamps. “You’ve done quite well for yourself. Serving as psychologist to the House of Magnus itself. The only way you could be any better is if you were serving God Doom.”

“You’ve done great too! After all, you are my psychologist…”

“Speaking of, we should get down to business. After all, every psychologist needs to be psychoanalyzed. Make sure there’s no trouble in paradise…”

Emma dove down, completely inverting herself so her thonged buttocks showed under thrashing legs, driving her under the surface. Her velvety ass bounced and swayed as she kicked under the water, and Karla felt a wild urge go through her. Emma really was beautiful. The bitch.

She came back up, her wet hair darkened, falling in rain-black clouds over her shoulders. She gathered it up in lazy, glossy loops, redirecting it down her back. “What was that, Karla? I wasn’t listening.”

“Just thinking out loud—a few questions I’ve had since our last session…”

“Oh, Karla, you speak of our time together so poetically…” Emma lounged on her back, simply floating spread-eagle atop the slightly choppy waters, her legs apart, her breasts heaving as they met the rays of the sun lamp. The light glistened on the curvy flesh like a shifting, fondling hand.

“You said that you have a very happy marriage.”

“Oh yes. Still do.” Emma closed her eyes and lounged, her head surrounded by a halo of floating hair. “Scott’s a true partner. Loves me. Respects me. Not even any exes lingering about for me to worry about. No, I plucked him straight off the vine.”

“Yes, the perfect marriage, that’s you two.”

“And you thought it was so silly of me, dating the pencil neck in high school.”

“I don’t believe I called him a pencil neck… whose idea was it to get married, yours or Scott’s?”

“Scott’s, the dear. Wanted us wed right out of high school, before we even went to college.”

“That follows. I never thought of you as the marrying kind.”

“No. I’m more the being fucked kind.” Emma’s legs clasped together, the little wave she made propelling her to the shallow end of the pool. She made her way to the automatic dumbwaiter, eternally poised even as she walked wet on the slick floor, and ordered a gin. “Scott takes care of that. Quite amply.”

“You don’t crave… variety?”

“Scott’s all the variety I can handle.” Emma retreated to the pool with a shiver, bearing the gin above her head in exaggerated fear that it would be contaminated by the pool water. “I always knew he had something of the freak in him—oh, I’m sorry, is it insensitive of me to talk about my mutant powers around a low-gene? Should I check my privilege?”

“It’s fine. Good to admit that your psychology is dependent upon special powers and not clinical work.”

“Yes, that’s pretty boring,” Emma agreed. “But Scott, he… mmm…”

She almost wished Karla were gene-blessed, just so she could know what it was like with him. Maybe she’d teep it to her anyway, a subconscious thought to come back around in her dreams. She thought out loud, wondering if Karla had enough psychic sensitivity to pick up what was being laid down.

Emma loved being fucked. She’d always loved it, but so rarely had something to love. Not for lack of options. She’d always been gorgeous, came out of the womb with golden hair, perfect breasts just waiting to happen, and most importantly, a trust fund. But there’d been so many disappointments.

Sebastian, the big football stud, lusted after by every girl in school. Emma had discovered the truth. A paltry few inches that he knew nothing about how to use, and no stamina, no control. Human or mutant, Emma found most men unequal to the task of satisfying her. They barely even gave her time to warm up.

But then there’d been Scott. Sweet, unassuming Scott. Tirelessly repressed, that one. But she’d heard the thoughts coming from the locker room, the shock at how big he was, and once she’d gotten over her astonishment that he didn’t shower in his underwear, she’d decided, well… why the hell not?

“I’m so glad I gave him a chance,” Emma said, sipping her gin, resting her head and arms on the rim of the pool near to Karla. “He’s a stallion in the bed, Karla, with a cock to match. And polite.”

“Polite?” Karla sniffed. “Doesn’t seem your type at all.”

“Yes, he was almost too polite at first… said he respected me too much to violate me before we got married. Some of my most treasured memories are convincing him not to respect me in the morning…” Holding the gin by the lip of its glass, Emma moved the cold cocktail glass closer, looking at Karla through it. She ran her lips around the stem. “Fifteen years of marriage and he keeps finding new things to try, new roles to play. Even I have a hard time keeping up. And it’s as much as I can get. Every morning before work. He wakes me up with it.”

Not to mention, Emma thought, how lovely he’d become. His slender body filled out with obsessively worked muscles, his flesh now beautifully sculpted, marble-smooth, a fitting vessel for that wonderful cock she’d married.

“Excuse me,” Karla said. “I’ve forgotten my lotion.”

She went to a closet, mostly filled with towels, and got out a bottle of suntan lotion.

She also got out a dildo, strapping its harness around her waist, making sure that the switch at the base of the shaft was pointed up. When she pressed it, it would activate a circular motion in the dildo’s jutting head. Karla couldn’t wait to press it.

She returned to her seat. Emma was floating again, the empty glass resting comfortably on her cleavage. Emma took such pride in the things; Karla wondered if she’d gotten a good deal on them.

“Need any help?” Emma asked, noticing the flatulent sound of the lotion being squirted out into Karla’s palm.

“Not yet,” Karla replied, rubbing the lotion into her skin. It felt good. It would feel better. “Alright, Mrs. Summers, I’ll give you that Scott is a good cocksman. There’s certainly no way you’d’ve stayed married to him this long if he weren’t.”

“I know. Who would’ve thought I wouldn’t be on my fifth husband by now?”

“But let’s face it Emma. You were even less the monogamous type than the marriage type.” Karla rubbed the lotion into the dildo as well. Making it smooth and slippery. Making it glisten. “Even with Namor you weren’t satisfied, you little underage groupie tramp. You collected sex partners like merit badges. The way you told it, the bigger the number before the ‘some,’ the better you liked it.”

“Quality, not quantity, Dr. Sofen.”

“I don’t care how good his cock is, it can’t taste as good as a wet pussy.”

Emma laughed politely, as if Karla had dropped a witty bon mot. “I admit, it would be nice to have enough cocks in the room to go from anal to oral without a ten minute wash-up. But I love him. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Not anyone?” Karla asked, and now Emma finally noticed what was sticking up lazily from between her legs. The biggest cock she’d ever seen. Even in movies. Even on Spartacus.

She wondered if she could take it. Surely, in fifteen years of marriage, Scott has loosened her up enough to take it…

“I love my husband,” Emma said, aware of a wet warmness between her legs unlike any of the other water touching her.

“What else do you love?” Karla asked, stroking the strap-on with more lotion.

Emma felt as if she were someone else. Someone she hadn’t been in a long time. Someone who loved hard cocks and wet cunt.

Someone who wasn’t married to Scott Summers.

***

“Well, that sure was a chase scene,” Peter said. It’d taken him a while to catch up to the Goblin. Web-swinging was fun, but he barely had time for it outside of filming scenes for the movies. He was out of practice and whoever it was on the glider, they were good. But he knew the city better. Assuming that glider of theirs couldn’t get up to jumbo jet height, he’d figured where they were likely headed, how to maneuver there if the Goblin wasn’t intent on awkwardly leapfrogging skyscrapers instead of flying between them, and finally cut them off and hit ‘em where it hurt.

They landed on the shoulder of a Sentinel, thankfully recharging. It was as private a place as any; no one besides, well, him, would risk powering on one by getting too close. And if the Sentinel did finish powering up, he was pretty sure his status as Spider-Man would let him talk down its operator. So for now, he focused on the Goblin.

His Goblin.

He didn’t know why he’d taken Osborn’s tech. Well, he did know. Plausible deniability. Wanting a second skin, to go back to the days of anonymity like before he’d been a star. These days, he was more famous in the mask than out. And maybe as the Goblin, he’d feel like less of a liar. I could… I don’t know… help people maybe, instead of just myself. Stand against everything Spider-Man is, just like Crusher Hogan does in the ring.

He hadn’t meant for it to ever fall into someone else’s hands. He hadn’t meant for it anything. It was just a pet project, something that wasn’t owned and shared by everyone in his life. But if someone had gotten their hands on the power armor, the glider, they could also have the diary.

“Something gives me the feeling that all doesn’t belong to you,” he continued, fishing for the join in the mask. He found it easy enough. Should’ve; he’d made it. “Secret identities are so passé…”

He tugged, the mask gave. And he saw Lily Hollister staring up at him.

She looked as beautiful as ever. Mulatto, black father, white mother, the café au lait skin deliciously contrasting with her dusky blonde hair. Her features a seamless mix of her two ethnicities: wider lips than you’d expect, a perter nose than you’d expect, the overall effect a little startling, a little unpredictable. Now, with her crazed smile, she looked truly inexplicable.

“Peter,” she said, pulling her mouth to his suddenly, fingers quickly ripping his mask out of the way, pushing her tongue between his lips, sucking on his as her hands delved over his costumed body, the lustful kiss continuing, lust inspired by her sudden hunger for him…

He stopped her, nearly webbed her down. “Lily, what are you doing here? Does Harry know you’re doing this?”

Lily rolled her eyes. Licked her lips. “You don’t have to pretend. I know you don’t care about Harry, any more than I do—“

“Lil, he’s your fiancée—“

“You care about whether I found your book…”

Peter fixed her with a hard look, taking his mask off the rest of the way. He held it crinkled in his fist. “Obviously, that’s a yes.”

She giggled, reaching a hand out to rub his thigh. “It’s alright, Peter. I’m not going to tell anyone. I would never want anyone to hurt you, never let anyone hurt you. I’ll start at the beginning, yeah?”

Peter looked around, anxious about being seen. At this time of night, in a neighborhood like this, there was no one. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say.”

Lily grinned, clearly thinking… he didn’t know what she was thinking. But seeing things as going her way.

She crossed her legs, getting comfortable, like she was settling in for a chat with girlfriends. “You know my father’s running for mayor. And it could be historic, Peter, a human holding office for the first time since the House of M. And you’re friends with Harry—I know you stay out of politics, you’d hate to offend any of your fans, but I thought maybe if I found something, a little secret, then we could come to a little arrangement.”

“You wanted to blackmail me,” Peter said blankly.

“That was back then,” Lily assured him, giving his knee a shake. “I didn’t know then… I thought you were a mutant. I went looking around. Just little fishing expeditions when you had me and Harry over. I have to admit, you’re squeaky-clean, but I’m very good. Curiosity: my one vice. I found an invoice for a warehouse way out in the Bronx. So I checked it out. Recognized Oscorp gear instantly. But that wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was this.”

She reached into her bag, her little satchel, and took out the book.

Peter didn’t know why he’d written the dreams down. Didn’t know why he was having the dreams. Only that they seemed important and maybe there was a pattern to them, something they were trying to tell him. He doubted Lily would believe him, though, telling her those were just his brain on celebrity.

Mel Gibson had anti-Semitism, Dazzler had Oxycontin, he had dreams. He’d gotten off easy, probably.

Lily hugged the journal to her chest. “You’re human, Pete. Not a mutant. Not another one of those godforsaken, holier-than-thou freaks. You’re not special, you just got lucky, and you know it, you’re like Captain America! And this story… an ordinary human who gets powers like one of those muties,” Lily giggled, relishing the word. “And then he does even better than them!? A beautiful wife and joining the ‘Avengers’ and saving the world? It’s inspiring, Pete! It’s awe-inspiring! Imagine people reading your story, real people taking hope from it and knowing they’re just as good as mutants, with or without power.”

“Lily, give that here—“

Lily tightened her grip instead, like she wanted to take the book into her body. “And the suit! I know what you were planning to do with it, Peter!”

“You… do?”

“Of course! Be a superhero! Just like the Spider-Man in your book, but for real! Fighting for humanity, fighting against mutant oppression! But you’d never get away with it, Pete, you’re too high-profile. What you need is a second party, a catspaw, so you can be in two places at once. Imagine—the mind behind this masterpiece!” She pounded her fist against her book-covered heart. “And me as his right hand? We could do so much! I’ve already learned a lot about using the weapons, the armor, the glider—we could train together! You could pretend to fight me, maybe get into Magnus’s inner circle, while I join the Resistance! I know a guy, Luke, well, my father knows him…”

“Lily, calm down,” Peter said firmly. “Give me the book.”

“Of course.” Lily handed it to him. “I made copies. I like to read it at night. Especially the parts about you and Mary Jane. Hey, no judgment, I always thought your wife was a little high on her own supply, no offense… and don’t worry, I’m not going to try to take charge of your thing, your mission, I know you’re the hero, I’m the sidekick, as far as I’m concerned, you’re the Green Goblin and I just do what you tell me. I’ll do whatever you tell me. We can be like you and Black Cat. I mean, I think we should keep the armor the way it is, so we can both use it and be each other’s alibi, but I could wear the leather catsuit. In private, you know? And a wig, too. We can wear the masks, too.”

“Lily, I’m married.” It seemed jaw-dropping insignificant in response to all she had said, but after his inexplicable decision to have sex with Karla, he wanted it said.

Lily just laughed, laying back like a human sacrifice onto an altar. “Yeah. That’s why you write about fucking all these other women. Betty Brant, Felicia Hardy, Mary Jane Watson, Debra Whitman… whatever Gwen’s giving you, it isn’t enough. So how about putting me in your book, Peter?”

She reached into her cloak, drawing it apart, then opening up the tunic underneath. She was wearing a tied bra, and once she untied it, the pressure of her large breasts did the rest. Her tits spilled out, the bra slipping off to either side, Peter freezing in place as her large, perfectly shaped breasts burst forth. He almost moaned as he saw them in all their glory.

Lily laughed as she saw how her beautiful breasts affected him. She gyrated her hips, pursed her lips, her large, luscious breasts now swaying from side to side with each motion, the nipples standing at attention.

She was unhinged, Peter thought. Way off the reservation. This fantasy world she’d cooked up seemed like the only thing keeping her grounded. If he fought her on it, she might flip out, hurt someone, expose his secret. He had to keep her locked down. If he could just mollify her, give her some token of accommodation, then maybe later he could talk her down. Get her copies of the book, get her to back down from this rebellion idea, make her see reason. All he needed was an opening.

“All I want to do tonight,” Lily whispered feverishly, “is suck… and fuck. I want you to suck on my tits. And then I want to fuck your face.” Peter fell to his knees. She was removing her pants now. Kicking them away… That was definitely an opening. “Eat me out, you beautiful boy. Eat my cunt until I can’t take it.” He crawled forward on all fours, his shadow falling over her bare legs, her cunt, making its pink stand out in the darkness. “Then fuck me. Once I’ve earned your cock. Once I deserve having it inside me. Start now, baby, suck my tits…”

His lips were against her skin, kissing, sucking, he couldn’t resist her anymore. Well, that was that.

“Oooh, that’s it, easy with the teeth, yes, use your tongue, mmmm, yes, that, that!”

Lily crooned with sexual satisfaction as Peter eagerly sucked on a swollen nipple, cupping a burning tit in both hands, squeezing and massaging it as he traveled the silken flesh of it with his tongue. Already his cock was pounding urgently as he slid down her softly rounded belly, drawing close to her perfumed pussy.

Lily raised her knees high and cupped his head in her hands. A glazed smile flitted across her sultry lips, broadcasting lust. As Peter’s lips brushed against her, she undulated her body beneath his face, raising her lush ass up in invitation.

She’d never had her pussy eaten before, Harry never being even that kinky. But she’d dreamed of it often enough, craved the glistening sensations she’d read about. And now she’d put all those dirty books to use, loving how she was finally saying those vulgar phrases, arousing Peter with words meant to get him rock-hard in seconds, his beautiful young cock just as she’d imagined as she read the journal, just as she’d pictured going into Felicia and MJ and all those other willing women.

“Eat it,” Lily moaned, easing her throbbing cunt up to his mouth. “Eat me, you wonderful, gorgeous—aaaaaaaah! LOVE IT!”

His burning tongue had shot deep inside her, prompting a mad sucking sensation inside her cunt that Lily hadn’t known she could feel. The moaning woman raised her hips in a high arc, shocked at how good it felt. Damn, she could get hooked on this. His nose, his fucking nose was rubbing furiously against her swollen clit, adding to the pleasure of his tongue lashing her sex, it was true, she really did want to fuck his face, she wanted to look at that handsome face from now on and see that it wasn’t just pretty, it was a fucking sex toy.

Lily reached down, clawing at his back with her nails, wanting to rend the costume and get through to naked flesh, share the shattering sensations he was inflicting on her. “Oh, you lovely… you pussy eater! Suck faster, baby, eat my cunt, honey, darling, YESSS!”

His cheeks drenched with her juices, Peter licked and sucked at her, tasting pure honey in her sweetness. It was a luscious cunt, and she was a wild animal grinding passionately against his mouth. He clung to her voluptuous ass cheeks, hot and silken in his hands, as he devoured her pussy as fast as she could feed it to him.

“Gonna come!” Lily gasped, her back arched in a sharp bow, sounding as disbelieving as she was pleasured. Nonetheless, it was happening. He was about to make her come and not even a minute had passed. Her breasts rose and fell feverishly with her breaths as she jerked madly up against his mouth, feeling herself explode from her sex outwards, her words tumbling out of her like shockwaves between blasts.

“Oh Peter, PETER, suck it faster, harder, EAT MY CUNT! Eat it! Don’t stop! Can’t stop coming! Love it! SPIDER-MAN!”

Intent only on the obscene pleasure she felt in her bursting cunt, the sobbing Lily crushed her thighs to Peter’s face, fucking madly at his voracious mouth. She felt exactly as she was dressed. Like a demon. Like some succubus caring only about sex.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Lily groaned, rolling around on the Sentinel, almost falling off only Peter held her too tight. “Make me come with your mouth! Lick my pussy up and down, your tongue, put your tongue in my pussy, mmmmmm, UHHH! God, even my nipples are throbbing!”

Then it wasn’t enough, not for either of them. Peter was crawling up her body, tugging his pants down over his erect cock, the weapon bristling out threateningly. Lily felt like she was hyperventilating as he aimed it between her legs. “Oh, baby, yes! Watch my cunt swallow that hard cock!” she gritted out, and then he was, he was looking down at her cunt as he impaled it with his manhood. Lily moaned in sheer pleasure. She loved Harry, she did, but God, she loved this cock even more!

Peter gathered up her legs with rapid decisiveness, pushing them into her chest so that he could mount her upturned sex, bouncing atop it like he was some maddened rider and she was a beast of burden. Her head hinged wildly on her neck with every jack-hammer thrust, and it occurred to her that she was in a hopeless position to resist. Finally.

Finally there was nothing she could do but be fucked. Her arms were pinned down at her sides by her legs, and she could feel the gigantic head of his prick sliding up and down inside her like the end of a long, powerful sledgehammer. She felt the hot slap of his testicles against her ass as he jammed himself down into her. She felt his sweat dripping off him as he fucked her.

Trembling uncontrollably, Lily moaned, “Bring me off! I’m so close, so close to it! Just a few more thrusts with your hard cock, I’m right on the edge! Oh! Ohhh! That’s it, that’s right! Make me come! Faster! Faster! Oh, right there!”

Her mouth opened in a distended O and she kicked frantically, trying to straight her bare legs, but Peter held them in place. She dug her nails into his forearms, her body quaking from the sheer impact of her ferocious climax. She shivered violently, slippery womanhood clenching at his jabbing prick.

“I’m coming!” Lily wailed. “Fuck the hell out of me! Cram it in deep! Shove it all in! When I come like this, nothing else matters except you! Uhh, uhhhh! Give me your cum!”

As if on command, Peter’s thrusting cock jerked deep into her sex, then throbbed wet strands of cum into a puddle inside her body. The superhero shook all over, his member shooting errant sprays of pearly cum deep inside of Lily.

“Keep fucking me!” Lily urged him through her climax. “Fuck me flat! Fuck right through me, push your dick up me, again, again, again! Don’t stop!”

She clawed frantically beneath her squirming asscheeks with both hands, finding his balls pressed into the split of her ass, passionately milking them. Her legs shot out to their full length, quivering helplessly in the air on either side of him. His cock continued to fire to completion, its thick, hot jets streaming out in blissful rivers, overflowing her sex, gushing out the milking labia lips mouthing the base of her cock, saturating the silky pubic hair he had buried himself in. It was never ending and she never wanted it to end.

“Show me who’s the boss!” Lily cried. “Show me who’s the boss!”

And after what seemed like an endless orgasm had burnt Lily up, she dropped her head back and moaned quietly. “I can’t move…”

Peter grunted wearily, then slid himself out of her dripping cunt. As soon as he was out of the way, Lily stretched her legs out and dropped her feet to the floor. Peter moved over her, marshalling his inexhaustible energy to keep in motion, pulling her pants away, her tunic away, her cloak, all tucked under his arm. Lily moaned in delicious chill as she was fully exposed to the cold evening air.

“Ooooh! You gonna fuck me again, Peter? All naked, this time? It’d take a lot to be better than it is with the costume, but God… God… if anyone can do it… oh baby… just give me a minute.”

“No, uh, no thanks. Totally worn out.”

“I don’t know about that.” Lily looked downward. “He looks ready for more.”

Damn proportional sex drive of a spider—who knew arachnids got so horny? “That’s just… cuz I need to pee. Like in the morning. It happens sometimes.”

“Okay then. Give me back my gear. Then we can get out there and kick some mutant ass!” she grinned widely.

Peter resisted the urge to shush her, looking to the Sentinel to see if it had heard. “Uh… you’re not ready yet. You need training.”

“Training! Training, yes, good! Let’s go somewhere and strip down and spar! We can be oiled up, too…”

He had to get back. He’d been gone long enough; people would start to notice. It was his birthday, Gwen would want to be doing something with him… “This isn’t a good time.”

“It’s the perfect time! We need to start right now, start building the legend of the Green Goblin! Maybe if we blew up one of their crummy—“

Peter webbed her mouth shut before she could say anymore. Then her arms, then her legs. She struggled automatically, and he moved over her to make sure she could breathe. As his body jostled, the last dregs of his cum fell from his cock, hitting her forehead. “Shit, sorry—“ Peter said, backing away. “I have to go. Later!”

Pulling his pants back up, he jumped and swung away. ‘Later’? So lame…