Spider + Cat + Redhead update (Patreon)

“You had a baby!” Peter said, staring at the child. Then he looked down to Felicia’s pregnant belly, distending her shirt even more than her swollen breasts. “You have a baby! You’re having a baby!”

“Not at the moment.”

“Is he mine? She mine? Either of those mine?”

“He’s mine,” Jessica Drew said, stepping out of the bathroom. She took the baby from Felicia, who wiped her hands off once she’d released him. “Peter, you’re back…?”

“But is he mine? You know?” Peter tilted his head to the side. “Mine?”

“Which one?”

“Either!”

“Peter, you’ve been gone eight months,” Felicia explained patiently. “Do you really think you could impregnate me so hard that I’d give birth to a child and still be pregnant?”

“Well, if anyone could do it—“ Mary Jane was still crying, tears of happiness, but Peter didn’t think that made much difference. It was a purge of emotions and, still somewhat cradling her, he took her toward the couch to sit down.

The place had lost that ‘just moved in’ feel, all the boxes lying around like homeless people, Will Give You Stuff for The Time It Takes To Unpack. They were gone. And Felicia and MJ had redecorated, bringing Felicia’s space in line slightly with the more homey, cozy aesthetic Peter and Mary Jane had once lived in.

He sat down, pulling Mary Jane into his lap, and she buried her face in his chest and just cried.

“Give the hormones five minutes and I’ll be doing that too,” Felicia said. “Just, you know, show me a puppy or something…”

“So okay, wait, Jess is pregnant?” Peter asked, still heartily confused.

“Was pregnant.”

“Who’s the father?”

Carol burst through the door then. “Parker!”

“No, I was—I mean, I could’ve, but I didn’t—I mean, not here—“

Carol came in for a landing beside him, punching him in the shoulder hard enough to slide him a cushion down the couch. This seemed to provoke a fresh volley of tears from Mary Jane. She seemed to be laughing now as well. Hysterics, Peter expected. Well, he wasn’t feeling too calm himself.

“You’re back!” Carol cried. “All the Avengers are thrilled—they’re helping with the clean-up, but you’re back! You’re here!” She quirked an eyebrow. “It is you, isn’t it?”

“Yes!”

“Not from the future?”

“No.”

“Not a clone?”

“Nope.”

“Not Doctor Octopus?”

“Now you’re just being gross.”

“Just have to be sure—“ And Carol drew a notecard from her costume. “Tony told me to read you this. Separates the good nerds from the evil nerds. If you can listen to it without correcting me once, we’re cool. Ready?”

“Wait, Jess was pregnant and that’s her baby and… she got pregnant?”

“Yeah, people want to have sex with me,” Jess snarked. “Go figure.”

“But who’s the… you know… helpmate?”

“You can say baby daddy, you’re not that white.”

“She won’t tell us,” Felicia explained. “But I think it’s Carol.”

“Carol!”

Carol ignored them—funny how quickly she picked up her relationship with Peter, right where it had left off—and read. “The Two Towers begins with the Halflings Merry and Pippin escaping from a band of Trolls who have captured them.”

Peter winced slightly. “Actually it’s—right, no, keep going, how could you be Jess’s baby daddy?”

“I take it back,” Jess said, “he is that white.”

Mary Jane emerged from the little hidey-hole she’d made of Peter’s sternum and, pointing her red eyes and running mascara at Felicia, frantically gestured her closer. Felicia rolled her eyes and stepped forward. “She’s going to make me cry with all this neediness, but it is just sympathy pains. I’m still a bad bitch.”

“They meet up with the Treebeards,” Carol continued, “a race of sentient, walking trees…”

Peter pinched his lips together. “Is this testing whether I’m a particularly pedantic supervillain or whether I’ve actually read The Lord of the Rings?”

The baby went ‘goo’ and also ‘gaa.’ “Hold on a second,” Jess said, and pulled down one side of her shirt to expose a breast—

“Gah!” Peter said.

“Oh, calm down, your life partner over there based her costume on what would happen if a teenage boy read nothing but Maxim for a year.” Jessica brought her nipple to the baby’s mouth, letting him suckle, and Peter was uncomfortably reminded of the last time he’d seen Jess—well, a Jess.

Her head still rammed into Peter’s pecs, Mary Jane raised a finger shakily. “I dress slutty too.”

“There,” Carol went on, “in the Old Forest…”

“That’s actually by Buckland, near the Shire,” Peter whispered to Mary Jane. She stared up at him. The mascara she’d left on the front of his costume did not diminish the war paint that still remained. “Just thought it needed to be said.”

Not crying, but her back shuffling up and down with little sobs, Mary Jane vined herself around Peter again. And Felicia sniffled.

“It’s just her,” Felicia protested, eyes growing misty as she snuggled up to Peter, gently petting his arm. “It’s like a yawn, they’re contagious. This is why I watch sad movies alone!”

“Can I finish?” Carol asked. “In the Old Forest, they debate whether to move against the wizard Sauron.”

“Saruman!” Peter shot out. “Sorry, don’t count that, I was distracted by why Carol is going to have to show up on Maury Povich.”

Felicia wiped her eyes. “Well, c’mon, these women can shoot energy blasts, pick up cars, fly—why can’t they get each other pregnant? And Carol is full of Kree DNA.”

“I’m standing right here.”

“Not a criticism, it makes you look great. I can barely tell how old you are.”

“How old do you think I am?”

“Carol did not impregnate me!” Jess insisted.

“Well, she’s the only one I see you with,” Felicia countered. “What, do you have a secret lover? Please tell me you have a secret lover.”

“Like she can keep a secret,” Carol scoffed. “Or a man, sorry, that was mean…”

“I was a spy!” Jessica insisted. “And no hard feelings, that was just lying there, I couldn’t expect you not to think it.”

“Thanks babe.”

Felicia grabbed Peter’s skull and forced him to watch. “The chemistry!”

“And you’re pregnant,” Peter said. Oh, this was what being in shock felt like. It’d been a while. Since that time Norman Osborn took over SHIELD despite everyone knowing he had murdered multiple people.

Thanks Obama.

“And that was a good call on not making a fat joke,” Felicia said. “You have no idea how much I miss black leather. Well, not so much since Mary Jane—that’s not a conversation for mixed company.”

“Thank you,” Jess said.

“You have your boob right out of your shirt,” Peter pointed out.

“It’s a nipple, Peter, it’s not going to kill you. It’s about the only thing that hasn’t tried to kill you.”

Peter paused, mentally counting. “Typeface, the Squid… yeah, that’s true.”

Carol cleared her throat. “Meanwhile, Samwise and Bilbo—“

“FRODO!” Peter insisted loudly. “Samwise and Frodo! Who came up with this?”

“Banner. Says it comes in handy to read it when he needs to turn green.” Carol put the card away. “And don’t worry, the test was that you couldn’t pass it. If you could, then you definitely would’ve been a Skrull.”

Peter wiped some sweat from his brow. “Wait… am I a father?”

Felicia and Mary Jane both nodded against his chest.

The baby finished his meal. Jess hoisted him onto her shoulder and ended the peepshow. “Just not this one’s father. Trust me… I would’ve remembered the line.”

“Should I, ummm…” No, this is what being in shock feels like, some little voice said in Peter’s head, tingling like spider-sense. “Should I… should I go pick up some diapers?”

“Just stay here and let us hold you,” Mary Jane said.

“It was like an afternoon. I was just gone an afternoon. They said time moved differently, but—we’re having a baby?”

“I think we should leave,” Carol said.

“Can I get a ride?” Jess asked. “I shared a cab on the way over.”

“Yeah, no need to ask.”

They left. Mary Jane tightened her grip on Peter’s arm. Felicia laid her head down on his leg, with his other hand pulled down to be nestled by her fingers. Peter resigned himself to staying there for a while. He couldn’t be happier about it.

“Maybe Jess got knocked up in a threesome with Carol,” Mary Jane suggested, her voice a little hoarse. “Who’s Carol dating?”

“Sam Wilson?” Felicia asked.

“I thought it was War Machine.”

“Wait,” Peter said, “Carol and Wonder Man broke up?”

***

“Peter?” Felicia said softly.

“Yeah?” Peter replied, equally softly. He thought Mary Jane had fallen asleep.

“I know I’m a heartless bitch and all, but I really am glad you’re back.”

“I know you are.”

“A lot of that is for Mary Jane, because she missed you like a little bitch.”

“I expect so.”

“But I really am happy I don’t have to do this without you.”

Peter put his hand on the back of his neck, rubbed his thumb against the uppermost nodule on her spine. Felicia purred.

“And, you know, if I weren’t feeling about as sexy as the Hindenburg at the moment, I’d be sucking your soul out through your dick.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Peter replied, nonplussed.

“And I am all for the hugging and cuddling and making eye contact, all that shit, but right now? It’s been fifteen minutes since the last time I peed, so I need to pee.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Could you help me up? The Earth’s gravity increased twofold since you left.”

“What, really?” Peter asked, using one arm to help Felicia to her feet.

“No. Not really. I’m just so fucking pregnant.” Felicia waddled to the bathroom. “And I can’t even hate you for never having to experience this, because you got pregnant once! And gave birth to yourself!”

“I don’t remember that at all,” Peter said innocently.

She shut the door behind her.

Mary Jane stirred.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Got you all to myself?”

“Looks that way.”

“Okay. I want the advanced cuddling. None of that beginners’ course stuff.”

Peter went along with Mary Jane as she stretched out on the couch, pulling him down on top of her, vining her legs with his and wrapping her arms across his back. Eight months hadn’t done anything to Mary Jane except make her more beautiful. Her green eyes stared into his hazel ones, still sweet and innocent after all these years.

She couldn’t help herself. She kissed him, and for a moment he was surprised, then he returned the kiss, passionately, lovingly. Their lips parted and Peter’s tongue darted skillfully into MJ’s mouth, twining with hers, before they broke the kiss, Peter gently trapping Mary Jane’s lower lip between his teeth, pulling at it slightly before releasing it, swollen and aching, to kiss her fully once more.

Then, like a switch had been thrown, it was over. Mary Jane was overwhelmed with emotion once more, tightening her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder to avoid letting him see her eyes. Peter gently rubbed her back, ignoring the pressure her toned arms put on him, enough force to maybe crack the rib of a normal man.

“So how’s it been? Honestly?” he asked her, hoping the sound of his voice would make it all a bit more… palatable.

“It’s been good. Really. Ana was surprisingly helpful, even if she mostly knows pregnancy from animal husbandry—she left a few weeks back to go on some hunt with X-Force, be back soon. Yeah… I remember when I was pregnant, my friends—well, I guess none of them liked the thought of me being ‘officially’ a housewife. Not that I exactly belonged at a rave, but I didn’t have anyone to… anyway, it feels good to be that person for Felicia. She has a lot of friends, I mean, but I’m sort of… I don’t know. Her bestie. And we have sex, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“And I’m sorta in love with her. I mean, she really is amazing, Peter. Not just as some orgasm buddy who helps keep you safe when you’re spidering, but she’s actually kinda lovely. I don’t know if I could’ve held it together without her.”

“Game recognizes game. Am I too white to say that?”

“Definitely. But also I am just about out of caring.”

“Out of…?”

“Honestly, there is a reason women can’t get each other pregnant, Kree notwithstanding. I have to exercise and yoga and do my own stunts—“

“You’ve been doing stunts?”

“Not hard stunts, just stuff. Tom Cruise, Jackie Chan, they’re here—“ MJ held her hand flat, as high as it would go. “And I’m down here.” She put her other hand out flat a foot below. “But I’m doing all this stuff, and she’s just ‘running her detective agency,’ which she does on Skype, she’s not Kojak or anything, some days she doesn’t even wear pants…”

“Go on,” Peter said seriously.

“I get it, she’s making a person, been there, done that, but I get home from having a job and it’s ‘oh, Red, look how big my ankles are’. Yeah, aren’t you used to it by now? Haven’t you been to a Wal-Mart? It happens. I love her and everything, I want to give her all this attention she needs, but it has been eight months. And now you’re here, you’re fresh, you’ll full of spunk—“

“Phrasing.”

“She’s going to be an attention whore, so you be her attention john. I’ll be the attention pimp. I’m just setting up the transaction. I’m the middleman.”

“Yeah, got it. Lavish Felicia with attention. It’s a hard job, but someone’s got to do it—“

“And me,” Mary Jane reminded him. “I can still go reverse cowgirl, so you should pay a lot of attention to me. Know which side your bread is buttered on and all.”

“I can barely tell you’ve been Felicia’s roommate for eight months.”

Playfully, Mary Jane gave Peter’s a face a long lick from chin to hairline, then nuzzled her forehead against his. “We always knew you’d come back. You’ve been dead and you came back.”

“Once I was only mostly dead. Are you counting that time?”

“We actually saved you some work to do. We knew you’d want to help out and… probably make it up to us for being gone so long.”

“Yes,” Peter said. “Absolutely. However much pampering you need, I’m your man.”

“Good. Because we haven’t done the nursery. Like at all. We wanted to share that with you.”

“She did,” Felicia said, trudging back to the couch. “I’m just lazy.”

She sat down on Peter’s legs, which he lifted up and braced against the armrest to keep Mary Jane’s stems from being squashed.

“This is actually comfortable,” Felicia said. “Peter, can you get me some ice cream next time you’re up? Just… whenever the next supervillain attacks the city, go to the fridge, bring some Rocky Road to the couch, then save the world.”

“I don’t like this situation. Too far away to cuddle. Peter, did you know Felicia’s a total cuddler? Tries to hide it, but it came out.”

“Is that why you were always on me to get under my mask?” Peter asked. “Cuz once you see my face, then we can sleep together, then we can cuddle all you want… geez, that’s diabolical.”

“I just wanted to sit on your face. Loads easier with the mask out of the way. And wouldn’t be an issue if you got a nice domino mask, Mr. Body Condom.”

MJ couldn’t stop herself. She kissed and nipped along the line of Peter’s jaw to the hollow under his ear, where her tongue shot into the tiny channel. She felt Peter stiffen and groan with desire, and laughed as she playfully rubbed his chest.

“Sorry! It turns me on, seeing you and kitty bantering again.”

“If you’re going to bang, I wanna watch,” Felicia said. “For some reason, a pregnant voyeur really puts guys off. You two are my last hope.”

“I want to get some pampering done first. I’m so broody, I could be on the bridge right now. And you guys are right, I can’t do that when I have a life to live—a family to be part of—so let’s go, fuck the past, let’s ace this nursery!”

“Energy!” Mary Jane cheered, kissing his chin. “I have a game plan just waiting for you to go down the checklist.”

“Knew you would, babe. Felicia, c’mon, we’re doing this as the world’s second best threesome.”

“I still don’t see how they can count as the best when Neve Campbell wouldn’t even show her tits,” Felicia groused. “And I don’t wanna move, I already came all the way from the bathroom to here.”

Peter picked her up. “I can carry eleven tons. So unless you’re pulling a Nineteen Kids And Counting…”

Felicia wrapped her arms around Peter’s neck. “So good to have you back, Spider. Mary Jane can’t lift me at all.”

“That says more about you than me,” Mary Jane insisted.

***

Ten minutes later, they were all lying on the bed of the guest room that would become the nursery, Peter in the middle, the laptop on his stomach. Mary Jane laid on his left, on her side, spooning him, while Felicia laid on her back, his right, his arm curled around her. His left hand worked the laptop, going over the options MJ had added to their wishlist.

“Okay, so, color scheme. Blue or pink?”

“I know it’s regressive, but I don’t want to do pink if it’s a boy. It’s just trying too hard. Makes me think we’re in the seventies.”

“No paint, let’s spring for wallpaper,” Felicia said.

Peter checked the options.

“Robots?” Mary Jane asked.

“Robots try to kill me.”

“Dinosaurs?”

“Dinosaurs also try to kill me.”

“Anything here you’re not traumatized by?”

“Redheads?”

“Guys,” Felicia interrupted. “Cats? My theme? For God’s sake, I was probably impregnated while wearing a catsuit, can we have some adorable little kittens playing with yarn on the walls?”

“By that logic, shouldn’t spiders be at least—“

“No.”

“No.”

Peter nodded solemnly. “Okay. Baby monitor?”

“I already picked one out,” Mary Jane said.

“Honey, that’s the company that makes Spider Slayers.”

“Well, the Spider Slayers have good craftsmanship, don’t they?”

***

“Okay, so what all have we got?”

Peter read briskly: “Diapers, wipes, ointment, burp cloths, receiving blankets, outfit, backup outfit, rattle, teddy bear, mobile, diaper disposal system, crib, crib mattress, waterproof mattress pad, sheets, crib skirt, bumper pad, sleep sack, changing table, diaper pail, nursing pillow, CD player, nature sounds CD, toy chest, wall shelves, wallpaper, wall paint, window treatments, clothes hamper, night light, lamp light, humidifier… you know, I put together my Spider-Man costume for less than this. Webbing and all. I’ve saved the world on a smaller budget.”

“The people of New York have slightly more survival instinct than a baby, Peter.”

“I’ve seen them throw bricks at the Hulk.”

“I said slightly.”

“And put it all on Tony’s card,” Felicia said. “He offered to pay for everything.”

“Do we have to give him the baby’s middle name?”

“No, I just showed him my boobs. Ten second look.”

Peter turned to Mary Jane. “See, this is why she’s never broke. Good accounting.”

“As long as Tony’s paying, same-day delivery. And gift-wrap them too, I love opening presents.”

Peter checked out with the credit card information Tony had, very trustingly for a man dealing with the Black Cat, left on the laptop.

His heartbeat was finally lowering, the panic of having been gone for so long, and during such a critical period, giving way to the normalcy of life with Felicia and Mary Jane. He could pick up where he’d left off. He could catch up to this life they’d all been building together.

“Peter,” Felicia said, “he kicked.”

Peter reached down to Felicia’s belly and felt his son.

Or daughter. Didn’t matter which.

***

“A spa?” Peter asked the next day.

“We’ve been getting ready for this baby for eight months—kept the home fires burning, fended off every well-wisher who wanted to be a godparent—I think Wolverine already had his sights set on a new Kitty Pryde.” Mary Jane made a ‘blech’ face.

“Point is,” Felicia said, “we’re so sick of this apartment we could scream. Whip it all into shape. Baby-proof the whole shebang. Do some vacuuming. We’ll be back by tonight.”

“I just got back, though.”

“Yes,” Felicia said. “And I kinda want to die. Not like from being murdered, just—“

“The Skrulls blow up the city,” Mary Jane suggested.

“Yes. The Skrulls blow up the city. We all go to heaven. In heaven, I’m not pregnant.”

“Oh,” Peter said.

“Don’t be that way,” Mary Jane said. “The baby will be in heaven too.”

“Plus,” Felicia said, “everyone wants to run tests on you to make sure you’re not a clone.”

“Or Doctor Octopus.”

“And they’re really insistent that us fragile civilians aren’t around a potential supervillain while they test whether he’s a supervillain.”

“It’s like if you thought a dog-walker might be the Chameleon. You wouldn’t let him walk your dog while you were checking on him being the Chameleon, would you?”

“Wait, you think I’m the Chameleon and you both kissed me?” Peter asked.

“It’s been eight months. We’re hard-up.”

“So there haven’t been any other guys?”

“It’s cute you think I have time to date while pregnant.”

“I’ve had a press tour. Face it, tiger, one of the great things about you is how convenient you are.”

“Yeah, you’re already well-versed in tying people up and dousing them with white stuff, so that’s half the work done right there.”

“Thank… you?”

“We also never unpacked your stuff, so you can get that done.”

***

Sue Storm was the first to administer a not-a-Skrull test to Peter, and help him get the apartment’s baby-rearing capacities up to spec. He submitted to wearing what looked like a colander in extensive safety gear upon his head while he went around covering electric outlets.

“Tell me,” Sue said, “how do you define the role of parent?”

Peter thought about it like it was an SAT question. “Well, I’m going to be a role model, a nurturer, a teacher—“

“No, okay, no, you’re looking at this wrong,” Sue said certainly. “Before any of that, you’re a warden. A newborn child is like a death row inmate determined to go out on their own terms. If you leave the slightest opening, they will escape, kill themselves, and smear as much poo on things as they can in the process. If a baby had a bomb vest full of human feces, they would detonate it without a second thought. Your job is to keep that little suicide bomber alive until they’re old enough to be yelled at. Then you start letting TV parent them, and you remember your name, that the sky was blue…”

“Are you alright?” Peter asked.

“Sorry. ‘Nam flashbacks. Let’s see about putting together the crib.”

“I built an anti-magnetic inverter when I was fifteen. I think I can handle IKEA furniture.”

Sue blinked. “You’ve jinxed us.”

***

Felicia and Mary Jane and Jess laid on the massage beds, gently unspooling as they let the lotions sink in. Felicia somewhat amusedly looked to her right and left, noticing the quite attractive women on either side of her wearing nothing but towels.

“Okay, I’m just gonna ask,” Mary Jane said. “Jess, where’s the baby?”

“I left him with Carol, it’s fine.”

“Oh. This is why people think you have a secret marriage, by the way.”

“I don’t,” Felicia said. “I think Carol and Jessica Jones are doing it.”

“That skank doesn’t love her the way I love her,” Jess deadpanned. “And hey, I’m just gonna ask, but your man comes back from another dimension and your first response is to ditch him?”

“We’re working through some things,” Mary Jane said.

“Working through some things,” Felicia agreed, reaching for her wine, trying her best to drink it while face down on a massage table.

She should’ve asked for a straw with her Pinot Noir, that’s what she should’ve done.

“We shouldn’t be mad at him, right?” Mary Jane asked. “But he’s been gone for eight months. Just fwip, out of the picture!”

“It wasn’t his fault, though,” Jessica reasoned. “For him, he’s only been gone a day.”

“That makes it worse!” Felicia cried. “Because say he spent five minutes in the can. If he’d just held it, does that mean he could’ve gotten back here six weeks early? He could’ve been for the ultrasound or… I don’t know… he could’ve been here.”

“Well, have you confronted him…?”

“You want us to try and make him feel bad?” Mary Jane asked. “Are you kidding? If we try to guilt trip him on this, it’ll probably drive him to suicide.”

“Yeah, he feels bad enough as it is. I mean, that’s what my head is saying. The rest of me kinda wants to make him cry. It’s a little arousing.”

“So you’re getting rid of all your negativity by getting covered in mud?”

“Whatever works,” Felicia replied. “Peter’s like a monk. He’s only really happy if he gets to suffer a little. So we crack the whip some, make him fuss over us—really, he loves it.”

“I’m gonna ask him to help shave my pussy when we get back,” Mary Jane said. “Who do you think that’s for, him or me?”

“So you’re telling me you have some weird bondage arrangement going on?” Jess asked.

“Oh my God, she’s right!” MJ gasped. “We’re so hip!”

***

Between the two of them, they kept at it for a few hours until everything was assembled, unboxed, sorted. Then Peter pulled the old wallpaper down, painted the ceiling, pulled the carpeting up, laid down some rugs, found some studs (Sue’s invisibility came in handy here), put down nylon straps and L brackets, secured the furniture, and on and on it went. Sue was a litany of ways for a baby to kill themselves; by the end, Peter felt like he was constructing a Saw death-trap in reverse. A room where even a redshirt couldn’t die.

Exhausted, his shirt wet with either paint or sweat, Peter accepted Sue’s offer of a couple of beers afterward. Social drinking, he thought they called it. He still didn’t know Felicia or MJ could prefer this bitter stuff to a nice cola, but he could admit the buzz was nice.

“So,” Peter said. “Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

“Another of your clones showed up. Spidercide? Had to take him in. That was weird, seeing a you that was all evil…”

“I can think of weirder things,” Peter said, although he was trying not to think of the time he’d come down Sue’s (a Sue’s) throat.

***

By the time Peter finished putting the crib together, he was in no mood to get up from the floor. The rug was way too comfortable. He laid back and looked up at the little Jackson Pollack he had done on the ceiling. Yeah. If he were a baby, that’d be an okay thing to look at while he was on his back, avoiding Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, which was fucking named Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

He closed his eyes, driving that thought out of his head with every other thought he could muster, and his mind slowed and cooled until Felicia was nudging him gently with her foot, waking him.

“I know, you looked all cute with your shirt up a little and your belly showing, but Captain America wants you to call him on the phone. Apparently you have some code phrases, just so he knows you’re not Doctor Octopus?”

“Yeah. They’re all quotes from the Founding Fathers.” Kinks snapping out of his joints, Peter clambered to his feet and cracked his neck for good measure. No aching. Plan Nap had worked out beautifully. “So what do you think?”

“It’s nice,” Felicia said.

“Nice? Cat, look, we got a chair. You can sit by the window and give the little basket a rock and breast-feed or whatever. You think the royal baby gets a rocking chair by the window?”

Felicia smiled. “It’s just a little bit weird, suddenly having you back and talking about babies and I remember coming in this room. Like, specific orgasms I remember.”

“To be fair, what rooms haven’t you had sex in?”

“There’s a spear closet I used to hide loot in. Very cramped in there. Probably not room for you and your hard-on.”

“Hence the lesbian lifestyle.”

“Yeah, that’s the chief reason.” Felicia looked around wistfully. “There really was something erotic about this room…”

Peter’s brow furrowed. “How many times have you had sex in my baby’s nursery?”

Felicia pursed her lips. “Wanna make it one more? This place is about to be off-limits. I think we can christen it just once…”

“Jesus, Felicia… of course.”

He kissed her like he’d been waiting to, not out of obligation or habit, but because she desperately needed to be kissed and by him. He couldn’t force that, couldn’t ask for it. He could only wait until Felicia felt the same way as he; even if it only had been a day by his reckoning, coming back after so long had put a gulf between them, and he’d been letting the awkwardness die away and the connection rebuild. Now suddenly they were as passionate as ever, and Peter truly felt at home. It wasn’t everything, just another puzzle piece, but it felt like everything.

The kiss was intense, leaving her lips swollen, almost bloodied, and Peter moved on from them quickly, kissing her ear, making Felicia laugh as he delicately worked his tongue inside it. The lightest wisp of his breath on her earlobe aroused the already sensitive flesh even more, then his teeth nibbled at the helix, the little space where Felicia had once considered getting a punkish piercing, and she was convinced that she was at the point of no return. There was no more point in denying herself; she needed him.

Peter felt like he was rediscovering Felicia, relearning her like she was a dead language he once more had someone to speak with. The way the tip of his tongue fit into her ear fascinated him; had it always? Had she always liked it so much? But then, anything he did seemed to cause a bucking and writhing of her body. His hands worked as feverishly as his tongue, unbuttoning the front of her blouse, revealing the elaborate bra that almost made him laugh with its finely-worked embroidery, all just to contain the masses of her breasts. He gripped one tit firmly and began to squeeze rhythmically, alternating pressure with release, release with pressure, coordinating the pattern with the thrust of his tongue into Felicia’s ear, down her neck to the pulse of her throat.

Felicia was completely dazed; lost in fairyland. Nothing focused in her eyes, so she closed them. All that mattered to her anyway was feeding the lustful demon that seemed to have taken over her body.

Then they heard the door opening.

Felicia gasped in sudden interruption, sudden addition to her pleasure. Mary Jane. “Said she was getting cocktails with Jessica… lightweight.”

“Hey, I don’t drink at all, mostly.” Peter gave Felicia one last kiss, on the forehead. “Later. Let’s show her the nursery.”

Felicia gave him one last kiss, not on the forehead. “Wait here. I’ll go get her.”

Peter looked around the nursery. It was a work-in-progress… drying paint, unassembled furniture, supplies still in plastic bags instead of drawers. But it was his. He felt a bit better about that. Having something his contributing to this life Felicia and Mary Jane had built while he’d been gone, just gone. He wasn’t leaving again. He’d turn in his Avengers card if he had to. Join the Defenders, Blue Shield—anyone who never left the Big Apple. Maybe he could get a job as Wong’s understudy over at the Sanctum Sanctorum. Sure, Dr. Strange went to the astral plane and stuff, but he did all that while he was meditating, right? Peter would still be in cell-phone range…

Then he saw Mary Jane in her lingerie—white bra, white panties, white lace trim on the bra, white lace bow on the panties.

“Look,” MJ said. “I found some of the old lingerie they let me keep. I can’t believe it still fits…”

Arms circled around Peter from behind. Felicia. Black bra. Black panties. Not that he could feel them, even with her body pressed against his, so thin they are, so scant they are.

“And I finally found a set of bra and panties that match!”

A need as desperate Peter had ever known filled him. It was inexplicable, he could do so little to explain. It wasn’t that he loved them, it wasn’t that they were beautiful—they had become these new people and he was determined to meet that newness, to be a part of it. He wanted to barge back into their lives, mark them with his presence, give them sign after sign that never again would he leave them.

And already they were letting him.

***

Peter and Felicia sat together on the four-poster bed, leaning against a stack of pillows. Both of them were speechless, taking in the sight of Mary Jane Watson semi-nude, watching breathlessly as she fiddled with the iPod dock.

“Should’ve brought some popcorn,” Felicia said.

“Think we can pass a zoning bylaw about her wearing anything over her tummy?” Peter asked.

“I can hear you!” Mary Jane said.

“You’d be allowed to wear clothes outside, ya big baby,” Felicia said. “And if it helps, I would be willing to treat this apartment as an underwear-only zone.”

“You don’t already?”

“I was assuring you I didn’t have any concealed weapons!”

“It’s been eight months. I think I can trust you.”

“Not when you’re dressed like that…” Felicia glanced aside. “MJ, we haven’t even touched Peter and already…”

“Please hold your applause!” Mary Jane stressed.

“I could always hold it for him…”

Mary Jane got her iPod successfully interfaced with the stereo. ‘My Pony’ flowed out of the speakers like champagne into a glass. Stockings covered Mary Jane’s legs, covered her ass, looking smoother than glass, softer than flesh. Peter saw them stretch and burgeon, as if about to tear, keeping up with a twitch in Mary Jane’s thighs. With a rush of music, MJ began a slow, sexy, hip-grinding dance: her breasts swaying, her ass jiggling, her pelvis seducing the air. She moved with unbelievable grace, a refined, uncut version of the energy she’d brought to her parties and her dancing—now entirely focused on Peter and Felicia.

She watched as Felicia’s long fingers, the fingers that had brought her such joy, now moved up and down Peter’s thigh, caressing him, preparing him for the same pleasure Mary Jane had felt. She gazed hungrily from Felicia’s fingers to the groin they lit over, finding herself becoming aroused. Her eyes were heated as she stared at Peter’s hardening cock, Felicia’s hand stroking lightly from his groin to his belly, shifting his erection around inside his pants to better display its heft—showing Mary Jane what awaited her.

“Remember when I got cast as that stripper, tiger?” Mary Jane ran her hands up her legs, feeling the heat between her legs with her palms before she squeezed her thighs tightly. “I did research for it. Just went to a club and bought a lapdance from every girl in the place. It made me so wet, having them grind on me, one after the other. When I got back home, I just had to suck your cock for hours. Remember?”

Peter was speechless. “This remembers,” Felicia said, gripping Peter’s cock through his pants. It jerked visibly, Mary Jane leaning forward to watch it, displaying the top of her cleavage. Then Felicia lowered her head to Peter’s lap, and the two women stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. The atmosphere was wet with heat, a sweaty, sweltering swamp of lust and voyeurism, all of them performing for each other, watching each other, able to enjoy not only their own desire but the sight of others’.

Slowly, enjoying every ounce of the arousal she saw in her lovers’ wolfish eyes, Mary Jane unhooked her bra and slid its lacy contours down her arms inch by inch, showing more of her breasts one second at a time, giving constant doubt that they were really any larger, any more well-shaped, any firmer. Then she revealed the strawberry nipples that topped them, hard as stone, and felt the charge in the air as Peter and Felicia both decided they would have her. She could see it in their eyes, feel it like a physical thing.

Still swaying, dancing, Mary Jane pinched and pulled at her nipples, parting her lips to show her pleasure, gasping with it, sending it against Peter and Felicia like lashes from a whip. Her green eyes were on fire, watching Peter stiffen even more, Felicia openly rubbing him through his trousers. Her look openly challenging them to do more, she raised one sweet nipple to her mouth, licking it with a slow drag of her tongue as if to show the others what she would expect—and soon.

Peter felt Felicia draw him out, felt her pump him lewdly, but all he could think of was Mary Jane. She’d known how to jack him off just perfectly. Despite MJ’s reputation, that’s all they’d done for a long time while they were dating, but they’d gotten to it fast, Mary Jane grabbing his cock on their first date and clearly liking what she’d felt. The next evening, the handjobs started, and pretty soon after that, they’d both found out just how compatible they were. From then on, Mary Jane had been insatiable. She certainly hadn’t turned out to be frigid or all talk, like so many of his acquaintances complained about, usually in the same breath that they implied Mary Jane was too ‘popular’ to settle down with. Peter didn’t care. It was just one more amazing things about MJ, one more bit of luck in his finding her.

Of course, then there was Felicia—Peter couldn’t stop his lusty groan, feeling her grip him tighter and tighter. Her fingers were smooth as a safe-cracker’s, forming a warm, velvet vise around his throbbing cock. He groaned again as his manhood gave an impatient surge. Yes, he knew exactly how lucky he was. And he’d spend the rest of his life being worthy of that luck, cherishing both these incredible women… and letting them cherish him.

“Especially at the same time,” Peter muttered. “Jesus Christ…”

By now, Mary Jane had both nipples fully erect, glistening wetly. Next, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, after a little pause to tantalizingly pull at the tiny ribbon on the front of her hem. Then she peeled her bottoms off slowly, working them down her well-toned thighs with little wiggling motions, bending girlishly down to hide the red shimmer of her groin from their devilish eyes. She came up kicking her panties across the room.

The white—front plied into a sumptuous gray by Mary Jane’s growing arousal—landed on Felicia’s leg. With the hand that wasn’t servicing Peter, Felicia picked them up and dragged from them as greedily as an opium addict would breathe in a pipe.

Mary Jane continued to dance, her hands over her crotch, red hairs between her fingers—the scant light making a map of her bare body, letting Peter and Felicia chart the delicate scatterings of freckles, the well-toned muscle obscured by clear, creamy skin and voluptuous curves, the neat triangle her hands would leave to run up her sides, squeeze her proudly displayed breasts, before straying downward, lovingly stroking perfect skin, perfect belly, perfect ass.

Felicia tore her gaze from the naked woman—the sight of her now a familiar comfort—to Peter, now exciting and new, but also with a nostalgically fond presence, a ready-made intimacy she’d never felt before. It wasn’t just Peter and it wasn’t just Mary Jane. It was both of them. It was even, in some fucked up way, Peter watching the redhead dance with lust-filled eyes, while right next to them, Felicia rubbed moist panties over her face. Shit, she knew this wasn’t white picket fences or a well-manicured lawn, but fuck everyone, it was her home. She couldn’t feel more loved than knowing the three of them were about to fuck.

Well… if Peter said yes, that is.

Mary Jane strutted forward, into the light, now leaving nothing to the imagination except which outrageous pose, which paroxysm of motion her body would take next. She took hold of the bedpost at the foot of the bed, grinding on it, her hands seductively plying at the post one moment, then clawing at her stockinged flanks the next, masochistically rending through the thin material with her nails and scoring the flesh underneath. She seemed to delight in every crimson mark she left on her own long legs, moaning and thrusting herself against the bedpost all the harder.

She let go of the bedpost with a final, coital thrust of the pelvis, strutting, no, flouncing down Felicia’s side of the bed, playfully drawing close to the two lovers as if merely curiously captivated by how Felicia was pumping her fist up and down on Peter’s cock vigorously, squeezing his balls in her other hand. And Felicia stared right back as Mary Jane jiggled and sashayed and showed off her breasts like she’d invented them. The cat burglar’s cunt was molten, her panties soaked. She held her knees wide, her legs open, letting Mary Jane look all she wanted. And when MJ came close, Felicia reached for her, wanting to feel man and wife at the same time.

Mary Jane slapped her hand away. Turned on her heel and flounced off, as playful and carefree as ever, shaking her ass for the two of them, for herself. Peter was torn between watching Felicia jack him off and staring at Mary Jane. He noticed a smile spread over MJ’s lovely face as she rounded the bed, moving down Peter’s bedside like it was a catwalk.

Peter reached for her leg like a dog in heat, but she passed over him, teasing him, tormenting him, rolling over the bed and climbing to her feet in the middle of it, standing over them now, the view domineering, more explicit than ever and more powerful than ever too.

“She’s a goddess,” Felicia whispered, and Peter had already agreed before she’d even thought it.

He arched his hips up, ramming his cock into Felicia’s pumping fist, bring a mewl of pleasure from Mary Jane—hands raised to her face with a coy modeling expression of ‘is that for me?’ Felicia held her fist down hard, letting Peter fuck it, holding his balls and peering up and up and up Mary Jane’s mile-long legs, seeing that her cunt was as wet and as ready and as needing as Felicia’s own.

“Same color,” Felicia laughed. “Different shade.” With all her will, she forced herself to stop looking at what seemed to her the source of all the passion in her life, instead focusing on Peter’s cock as her fist raced up and down, fingers tight around it. She stared at the flaring slit, her lips parted as she heaved with excitement, knowing Mary Jane was staring too. She wanted Peter just about to come, right on the verge of it, needing this and needing them and needing her like they’d needed him for so long, all their months of waiting filling his body at once.

Mary Jane spun in place, her head lolling from side to side, fingers passing through her waving hair as she swayed gently, as she displayed herself without fear of any imperfection, as she closed her eyes and moaned softly.

“Mary Jane!” Peter finally managed to say, a groan of need from the pit of his soul.

Mary Jane worked her way back around, facing them once more—threw her head back and used her long, slim fingers to part her red pubic hair, exposing the dewy lips of her cunt.

“Show him, red,” Felicia ordered.

Mary Jane twisted about, throwing her hands to the southern posts of the bed, holding herself up that way as she threw her hips into a frenzy of thrusting, circling, winding her ass in and out while holding tight to the bedposts, as if chained there like some sacrificial virgin, hoisted up to await King Kong. Then she bent over, one hand going between her legs, spreading her buttocks, probing her juicy sex, smearing the wetness up at her puckered anus.

“Christ, I’ve been a bad influence,” Felicia groaned.

“Yes—you’ve been very, very bad,” Mary Jane told her as she continued to finger her pussy, still bent over so they could see every bead of moisture that clung to her finger as she worked it in and out of herself. “But tonight, I need Peter. I need him to fuck me so bad…”

Felicia was almost angrily pumping Peter’s cock now. “Her pussy’s so damn hungry—just look at it. It needs your big cock!”

And slowly, Mary Jane straightened. Her hands gliding up her thighs, her buttocks, her back as the muscles tensed and released gloriously. Her hips cocked, displaying her pert ass as if to emphasize its tightness, the sheer intensity of the pleasure and pressure Peter would feel if he dared to fuck it as MJ had so openly requested. And then Mary Jane turned around and her pussy was just as wet, just as tight, dripping like a hole in a dam—needing to be plugged.

Then her leg lashed out, the tears in her shredded stocking flashing flesh, and kicked Felicia’s hand away from Peter. Both of them looked at Mary Jane, shocked speechless, as she planted her hands on her hips. Licked her wet finger. “Felicia… it’s your turn.”

Felicia broke out in a smile, a stunned laugh showing that she’d really had no idea she would find two people who could match her. “This kitty wants you in her lap, Red…”

And, her stockings now hopelessly losing to her swelling flesh, Mary Jane strutted over to Felicia and dropped down into her lap. Peter turned bright red as Mary Jane rode the thief, getting off on Felicia’s blatant appreciation of her, shamelessness feeding on shamelessness, Peter wanting to grab his own cock and finish himself off but he couldn’t move, not when Mary Jane was rubbing her breasts in Felicia’s face, sucking her finger into her mouth… he felt like he was going to explode. That this was just too much lust for one man to feel.

“And now it’s my turn,” Mary Jane said. And she reached over and grabbed Peter’s dick.

Still grinding against Felicia, she pumped her hand on his huge cock, Felicia watching, listening.

“I bet you’re tired of getting jerked around,” Mary Jane tittered. “It must be so hard—“ Now Felicia laughed, her face resting in MJ’s cleavage. “Two women you love, who love you, knowing we’ve been waiting for you, that we want you, that we’ll do anything for you, and all we’re doing is jacking you off.”

“Shit, you could’ve done that!” Felicia added, her voice muffled by the motorboating she was getting.

“Because we’re both horny as hell,” Mary Jane continued. Her hand never stopped moving on Peter’s shaft, not as hard or as frenetic as Felicia’s had, but soft, playful, rubbing and massaging like she was working at a vase on a pottery wheel. “Aren’t we, Cat?”

“Her pussy’s great,” Felicia agreed, “but it just isn’t the same without your cum in it.”

Peter let out a whine like a sick dog. He seemed unable to speak, a stroke victim with mouth hanging slack, eyes glazed. Mary Jane was sure that he had never experienced as much sexual pleasure in his life as he had in that very moment.

Mary Jane smiled as she felt a dollop of precum dot her palm. She rubbed it soothingly into Peter’s cockhead. “And we don’t even want you all to ourselves. We’re fine with you having all the pussy you want. But we want you so bad, we’d be so fucking grateful for your cock, that we’d probably blow you any time you snapped your fingers.”

“So, business as usual for me,” Felicia said around Mary Jane’s nipple.

Peter was grunting now. His hips were dancing to the tune of MJ’s ministrations.

“You like that?” Mary Jane asked innocently. “Because it feels good, pleasing you, having your cock in my hand. It feels so good, you wonder how having it in your pussy can be any better. But it just is.”

Suddenly, her hand stopped moving. Pouting, Mary Jane pulled away from Peter, sagging beside Felicia like a doll on a shelf.

“What…” Peter stammered, when he’d finally regained the power of speech. “What’s the matter?”

Mary Jane rested her head on Felicia’s shoulder. “It’s just… you do want a handie, right?”

“Yeah, of course—“

“And then you probably want me to suck you off?” Felicia asked.

“Oh God, yes—“

“Then he’ll probably want to fuck both of us,” Mary Jane said flatly, checking her nails.

Felicia brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Eat me out while he dicks you—“

“Or fucks my ass.”

“Or my tits.”

“Or both our tits. Have we ever just surrounded that cock with boob? It’s big enough for it.”

“Don’t think so. But it’s been a while.”

“And don’t forget that you can eat me out while we’re doing that. Jerking him off got me all wet…”

“Me too! And you’ve gotten so good at eating me out over the last year—“

“Please, please!” Peter begged.

Mary Jane met his eyes. “We’ve cleared our schedules, Pete. Both of us are prepared to stay in this bed for the next week.”

“Until Ana gets back,” Felicia added sadistically.

“But first, we’d like to go over a few things.”

“Anything,” Peter gasped.

Together, the two women grasped his throbbing member. Neither moved their fists. “Anything?” they echoed as one.

Peter shut his eyes. “Oh… please don’t be evil. Please don’t want me to kill the President or anything…”

Felicia assumed an offended look. “Is that to say you wouldn’t assassinate the President for us? Look at my boobs, Spider! They’re all… maternal!”

“Business, kitty, business,” Mary Jane said. “First off, Peter, no condoms.”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“No condoms, fuck, none!”

Very slowly, Mary Jane began to move her hand up and then down the length of Peter’s shaft, her light touch contrasting deliciously with the growing firmness of Felicia’s stolid grip. “Second,” she said, “I want you to know that Felicia plans to start birth control as soon as she’s had the baby. She’s in no rush to get pregnant again. And trust me, she knows her stuff. Might as well have her tubes tied.”

“Okay!” Peter croaked. “Don’t have to worry about Felicia getting pregnant. Great. Wonderful. Important safety tip. Can we do that two-woman titjob now?”

“In a second!” Mary Jane promised. Her hand began to move more rapidly now—up and down, up and down—like a piston picking up speed in a machine that was headed for full throttle. “Because third… I’m not on birth control. And I want a baby. So I want you to come inside me whenever you can. I’ll still swallow and take it up the ass and you can finish wherever, but I want you to come inside me at least once a day.”

“Wait, you… you want a baby?”

Mary Jane’s hand was moving faster and faster, its movements a blur. “We’ve discussed it, Felicia and I. We’re in total agreement. We knew you were coming back, and when you did, it was only a matter of time until there was some new craziness. We’re not waiting until our life gets to some non-crazy point. We know it’s always going to be something crazy.”

“It’s what we signed up for,” Felicia added.

“So we’re not letting life happen while we make other plans. I want Felicia’s baby to have a brother, or a sister. I want you to be able to go through everything Felicia and I went through having a baby. I don’t want your fatherhood having any bitterness, any regret because you weren’t here for some of that pregnancy. I just want you to share in what comes next. And that’s this. My child. Our child. Our life together, as a family.”

Mary Jane stopped masturbating Peter. All at once, she was climbing over him, straddling him, bringing her pussy to the tip of his cock. It felt as hot and as ready as Peter did. Moreso. She didn’t just want his body, the pleasure he had to give her—she wanted to be his wife. She wanted a life together. She wanted to be the mother of his child, to be bonded to him the same as Felicia was, the same as raising Felix had bonded her to Felicia as well.

For once, Peter wasn’t the outsider, the odd man out. He was wanted. He was needed.

“May if she’s a girl,” Mary Jane said, lowering herself on him gently, almost reverently. “Benjamin if it’s a boy. You’re lucky. I don’t have any decent people to name him after on my side of the family…”

Peter closed his eyes tightly, several curses springing to mind, most of them directed at himself for pausing even one second, for laying even a single finger on Mary Jane’s waist and not pulling her down to be impaled on his yearning shaft. “Uhhh… I think we should talk about this.”

“We will,” Mary Jane agreed breathlessly, her eyes closed as well as she savored the feeling of Peter’s engorged cockhead returning to its rightful place, ready to part the outer folds of her labia and remind her just how much she loved being his wife. “Once we’re done with round one.”

“And don’t feel bad about being quick to finish,” Felicia said. “I’ll be happy to pick up any slack. But round two is with me, and I am not expecting a sprint…”

“It’d be nice if round two finished with me, though,” Mary Jane grinned. “We’ve, uh, we’ve thought about it a lot.”

“I-I can’t,” Peter said.

“Unless that’s one of Felicia’s toys I’m feeling, pretty sure you can.” Nonetheless, MJ opened her eyes. “Peter, c’mon. It’s not like I’m expecting to get knocked up this very night.”

“That would be so romantic though,” Felicia put in.

“I just don’t want to put it off. I want to get started, right this day, right this second.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighed. “I just can’t. What about… what about my biology? I’m radioactive. Sure, Felicia was fine with it, but she’s a mutate. What if my fluids—without a prophylactic…”

“You’re worried about radioactive sperm?” Mary Jane asked. “Pete, know you like to worry, but that’s just silly.”

“Okay, well what about… what if one of us made a deal with the Devil for our second-born child, and had it erased from our minds, don’t you think we should check with Dr. Strange just to be sure…”

Mary Jane rocked slightly, letting his flans glide along the smile of her sex, parting them again, relishing the first tingles of penetration. “Rosemary’s Baby… also a little silly…” Mary Jane bit her lip.

“Five bucks says she comes the moment you’re inside her,” Felicia said. “I’ve seen her like this before…”

“What if I… what if I get taken again?” Peter insisted. “Then it’d be just you and Felicia—“

“Two people raising two children?” Mary Jane asked. “How will we ever work that?”

“Three, if you count Ana,” Felicia said. “As a child, I mean…”

Peter gritted his teeth. The soft touch of Mary Jane’s flesh, the warmth her pussy offered up for penetration, it was unbelievable. “There’s just so many questions… I don’t even know… I don’t even know if I’d make a good father!”

“Well, you’re ending up one hell of a husband, and to two women at that,” Felicia said. “And if you’re worried about being daddy, we can practice that…”

“I’m sorry,” Peter reiterated, pushing Mary Jane away with a sigh. “I really, really am. I know you’re excited—“

“We’re excited?” Felicia asked with a glance downward.

“Excited about this… plan… but we need to talk about it, wait, think things through… let’s just get a condom, enjoy tonight, and first thing tomorrow… as soon as we’re done…”

“This is tonight,” Mary Jane calmly stated, settling on her knees between Peter and Felicia. “This is what we’re enjoying. This is t