Eight Legs For Three Ladies update (Patreon)

Literally leading him by the cock, she swept him around so that he was facing away from Gwen, Mary Jane the only thing he could see. She reached under his massive prick with her other hand, opening her fingers to cup his scrotum in her palm. Peter felt rising, ecstatic shudders course up from her grip on him. He leaned back, lost in the voluptuous reverie of being held and attended to by MJ.

Her hand felt incredible on his balls, her fingers amazing while they stroked and kneaded his length. It’d been a while since he’d felt such a warm, sure grip on his member… too long, in fact… all through his date with Gwen, he’d wished she would attend to his aching arousal down—GWEN!

The thought of her jarred Peter back to reality. Gwen was right there, watching this, seeing him being intimately caressed by her rival. It already seemed like it had to be the end of their relationship, of everything, all they’d worked for. How could she possibly forgive him for this?

With a tortured groan, Peter wrenched himself away from MJ. His face burning, he stuffed his long-suffering maleness back behind his fly and zipped it up.

“You’re just going to stop? Now? Now?” Gwen asked, and she sounded more confused than happy or even relieved by his decision.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he muttered. “I must be crazy… Gwen, Gwen, that wasn’t me!” Unable to meet Gwen’s gaze, Peter still went to put his hands on her shoulders, his fingers shaking.

“No, it was me.” Mary Jane’s sultry voice was directly behind him. Still holding onto Gwen like a lifeline, Peter looked over his shoulder and saw Mary Jane there, stark naked.

“GOD!” he gasped, his hands falling limply from Gwen’s body.

She stood with her legs slightly apart, only barely displaying the pink sheen of her pussy under the soft thatch of crimson curls at her groin—making Peter squint to discern it. Not just tempting him with the implied feel of her sex, but the very sight of it.

Peter’s throat felt barren. His voice failed him. He could only stare, only turn around fully, his back to Gwen, and face MJ once more.

Mary Jane looked like a beauty from another universe, exotic and powerful, offering ecstasy he’d never know in the ordinary world, only in the fantasy he shared with her. She held the power to enslave him with her omnipotent sexuality.

“Mary Jane…” he croaked frailly.

And then she was against him, pushing Peter gently back to where Gwen stood. He went without resisting, borne along between his desire to give into her and his inability to say no to her. He was in her power, even as she pressed him against Gwen’s body, so that he was sandwiched between the two women, watching Mary Jane as she knelt before his burgeoning groin.

She freed his bulging erection even easier than the last time, Peter sighing when his cock sprang free again, now with even more relief as his turgid swelling lost the pressure of being confined inside his too-small pants. Mary Jane’s fingers encircled him once more and pulled on his shaft gently.

Her other hand eased down his pants—Peter thought he felt fingers playing teasingly along his bare thighs, sending pleasurable chills zinging around outside the aroused ache of Mary Jane’s rippling play at his groin. But both Mary Jane’s hands were already occupied, so that would have to be Gwen’s hands on his body, kindling a bonfire deep inside him.

“This is what you want then,” Gwen breathed in his ear, sounding quite unlike herself, not exactly mystified and not exactly certain, but like she was working through a thorny problem in class, thinking out loud. “You want a dirty fucking whore. A hot little bitch who takes your cock as hard as she can get it, because that’s how she wants it. She’s a slut who wants it more than anything in the world…”

Like there was no thought in him at all, just a mechanical yielding to pressure, Peter reached out to Mary Jane as she thrust her chest out and grabbed her full, soft breasts, clawing desperately at the tender flesh, making MJ wince from the sudden shock of feeling, the little red scorch marks on her creamy white skin.

His fingers caught her hard little nipples, plucking them mercilessly, tugging on them until they were blooming with rigid feeling. Behind him, Gwen twitched nervously, her body entangled with his and Mary Jane’s, and Peter felt a paralyzing fear that she would extricate herself from this knot.

Despite the fact that MJ was doing all the work of satisfying him, he didn’t want Gwen to go—she still had a hold on his mind even as his attention went to Mary Jane, focusing on her while she settled her loins against his. Her long smooth thighs wrapped around his naked hips, Peter’s hands instinctively sliding down her body to grasp her narrow waist and hitch her up. He felt her softly curling pubic thatch graze against his lower belly, her hand tighten on his fully formed erection.

She guided it between their bodies, towards her warm little slit, and Peter groaned in abject pleasure, feeling his knob touch the soft, delicate passage waiting for it, already wet with anticipation and trembling with her own ready satisfaction. His head spun at the thought that he was getting her off already, just with his willingness to enter and please her. In her own way, MJ was as turned on as he was.

“What a slut,” Gwen whispered, with growing certainty. “What a dirty, cock-hungry, cum-hungry slut. She just wants to be fucked—goddamn slut—all she cares about is prick. All she cares about is being a whore!”

Mary Jane swept his burgeoning cockhead along the length of her trembling sex, his precum rubbing into her moist labia, her juices smearing onto his glans, until they were both lubricated with the other, both shaking with a precursor to the deliciousness they were already half-feeling.

Peter’s thoughts were swirling, a wave of anticipation washing over him, taking away any doubts or reservations that still clung to him. Gone was all worry of Gwen—surely she’d see how beautiful this all was, feel a spark of the pleasure he had to give Mary Jane and feel himself, and be gratified by it, happy for them. Her misgivings, like his, had to pale next to the ecstasy they could know. He already felt an indiscernible thrill and knew it would only intensify, climbing to a hedonistic crescendo of sheer delight.

“Mmmm,” Mary Jane moaned, her voice as sultry as ever, but now she wasn’t even trying to seduce him. Her voice was saturated with sex and she came about it naturally, heavily laden with pleasure because that was what she was feeling, just as he was. “Your prick almost feels as good against my cunt as it’ll feel inside me.”

Her lewd words—especially coming from such a perfect, alluring face—excited Peter even further. He felt lust raging inside him, threatening to turn him into a ravenous beast. His hands flew up and down Mary Jane’s slimly tapering hips; holding her in a vise-like grip even as he groped and grasped her supple flesh.

Hungrily he pulled her pelvis against his body, pressing her tightly against his groin, then relieving the pressure only to draw them together again. Mary Jane cooed happily to be worked against his jutting erection, virtually masturbated with it. She licked her lips and tossed her hair, throwing off a gleaming layer of sweat before she worked to position his cock against her swollen folds, so that his next pull of their bodies together would bury him deep inside her cunt.

“I’m gonna fucking come the moment you’re inside me,” Mary Jane purred, sounding a little like she was orgasming already.

Gwen pressed against Peter’s back, so close he could feel her breasts flatten on his lats, the feverish warmth of her mound wetly kissing the back of his left thigh. Her palms set against Mary Jane’s chest, holding her in place, keeping her from getting any closer to Peter than she already was. And Peter felt Gwen’s lips run over the side of his neck, teeth and tongue working at the sensitive flesh there in a series of things like kisses, but not any kiss Gwen had given him before.

“You can’t fuck her… just because she’s a cock-hungry slut… wants to be your cum dumpster so bad.” Gwen didn’t sound like herself either, her voice deeper, not as poised, not as sweet. Definitely not as innocent. “I want it too. And you’re my boyfriend too—have to fuck me too. You think I won’t enjoy your cock, just because I’m not a slut like she is? You think you don’t have to fuck me… don’t have to make me your cock holster too?”

Still feeling Mary Jane’s body pushed up to him as well as Gwen’s, her tits up against his chest just like Gwen’s were pressed to his back, Peter looked at the redhead. She was smiling like a poker player on the last game of a champion tournament.

“Go ahead, Peter. Fuck her. I’m not stopping you—either of you. I’m sure she can take it… isn’t scared at all of that big cock and all that cum.”