Spider + Cat + Redhead update (Patreon)

It was amazing that by now, Peter hadn’t developed more of a way with women. He remembered the Playboys and Penthouses of his youth, getting passed around the class, sometimes making their way to him out of a sort of pity. By now, surely he had slept with as many women as had been in any one of those issues, and his partners were no doubt better-looking than the best efforts of LA surgeons and enthusiastic airbrushing.

But, even knowing Carol intended to seduce him, he had no idea how to seal the deal. All he could do was be Zen about it. Be himself, take things as they came, and trust that would be enough to get her into bed. It wasn’t like it had ever stopped Felicia or MJ…

Carol sat down beside him on the couch. She brought two glasses for them, filled up with orange juice in an incongruous touch. Peter took his glass from her hand. “Well, I mean, Felicia was always beautiful. And back then, it was a bit taboo—I mean, she was something of a supervillain. I never saw her outside that outfit. Not one of the newer ones with a tail or whatever, but just the black leather thing that zipped down in the front so you could see her—“

“Big tits?” Carol asked.

Peter drank his orange juice.

“Were they bigger than mine?” Carol asked, leaning down the couch toward him, one hand braced against her head, elbow on the back of the couch, sidling toward his head with an excess of muscle. With her leaning over, he could see down—“I mean, she has gotten pregnant since then. I don’t mean to imply they’re fake. But at the time, were they?”

“I don’t know. Yours look pretty big.”

Carol took his free hand and placed it on her breast. “What do you think?”

“Yours are bigger,” he answered quietly.

“You really can’t be sure though, now, can you? My costume is pretty bulky.” She slid closer to him, taking his hand and slipping it through her undone zipper. He felt the disconcerting slickness of her bra, the suffocating warmth of her thick, almost leather armor around his hand, and beneath his fingers, the softness and heat of a firm breast. Her nipple was already standing up. “Now what do you think?”

“Good. Play with my nipple. Keep it hard. And tell me all about how you fucked that slut.”

Peter let his fingers play her nipple to the hardness of a ball bearing before he continued. He didn’t know that he could even think of anything else while he was massaging Carol’s breast. She moaned low in her throat, a delicious feeling crawling down her spine to her clenching thighs, her boots thudding on the floor as she shifted her legs about.

“Well, there was this… drive-in we went to. We sat on the rooftops outside the theater and I’d built a radio that could pick up the soundtrack… she had this flask that we nipped from. I wasn’t drunk exactly, but it felt like—as long as I was drinking, I could do this too. We started necking. She pulled her costume down so her boobs just… popped out. And then she put her hand on my… on my prick.”

“Like this?” Carol asked, laying her hand on the bulge in his pants.

“Exactly like that,” Peter breathed. “Only I think I might be harder now.”

“I hope so.”

“She pulled my pants low… pulled me out. Her hand felt so good.”

Carol tugged Peter’s pants down over his erection before it could form an immovable tent. His cock jutted up, a beauty, well over eight inches, sleek and smooth and very hard, even the veins rigid. The head was shiny with clear precum, spreading like a clear lacquer down his crown and shaft. Carol started jerking on him.

“Oh God, Carol, that’s good!” Peter gasped.

“Tell me more,” she urged him.

“I slid my hand down the vee, into her costume. She tensed a little, but she didn’t stop me. I felt her belly, her pelvis, her cunt. Hair was… so soft and fuzzy. She was all wet down there. I couldn’t control myself. Suddenly I was on top of her and she wasn’t jerking me off anymore, she was pulling me in—“

“What are you two doing?”

In an instant, Carol rolled off him and Peter saw Jessica standing in the doorway, an expression of sheer shock on her face. Then her eyes slid downwards and he saw her struggle to control herself, keep from exclaiming, though her mouth still dropped in awe at the sight of his prick, tall and proud and virile.

Then Jessica literally shook it off. “Carol, what the hell is going on!? I leave for fifteen minutes and you’re giving Parker a handy!?”

“You said you wanted an open relationship!”

“Yeah, but with Peter?”

“Hey!” Peter cried out.

Jessica made a mollifying gesture. “You know what I mean! Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but you know what Felicia and Mary Jane are doing! You’re going to sabotage that just so you can…” Her eyes slipped down again. “So you can… Jesus, is it getting bigger?”

She was wearing her costume. The old costume. Some of the flak she’d been taking about her jacket must’ve gotten to her.

“It’s not like that!” Carol protested, snapping Jessica out of it once more. “I wasn’t going to—I mean, I was, but only if Peter promised to—you know, with Mary Jane, the thing?”

Peter groaned. Now it wasn’t enough that he had MJ and Felicia tempting him, but Carol as well? That was just dirty pool. “Did Mary Jane put you up to this?”

“No—not exactly.”

Peter glanced at Jessica. “Felicia,” they both said.

Jessica signed, her head bending back to stare at the ceiling. “That is so gross, Carol! You’re not doing it with Spider-Woman, so you do it with Spider-Man? That’s just sick!”

“You’re one to talk! You fucked Black Cat!”

“That was different!”

“How?”

“She doesn’t have a… a Marvel family theme!”

“It wasn’t like I would’ve fucked Scarlet Spider or Arana or just anyone. Peter’s really nice and I’m doing this to help out MJ, really, just sweetening the pot a little bit—“

“Oh, I’m so sure! And you just had no idea he was packing a pussy pleaser the size of Rhode Island!”

Peter began pulling his pants up. “I suppose I should put this thing away—“

“Don’t be so hasty!” Carol said quickly. “Jess, it’s not like that. Felicia said that if I just got Peter in the mood a little bit, she’d watch the baby for the week while we go to Cancun just like we’ve been planning to forever. You know, work on our relationship? And c’mon, we’ve both always been curious about it… how a total nerd like Peter Parker keeps a supermodel and the fucking Black Cat around… no offense.”

“None taken,” Peter said. “I’m still pulling my pants up.”

“Wait, you’re trusting the baby to Felicia Hardy?” Jessica insisted.

“Well, Felicia, Mary Jane—Peter too, I’m sure. A little bit of training for when their baby comes.”

“The whole week?”

“Whole week.”

“And all we have to do is make Peter Parker too hot to not fuck his wife?”

“Yup.”

“I should probably go,” Peter said.

“Just one second,” Carol said, holding him in place with a hand on his thigh.

“Well, geez, if you want him desperate to get off, what’s with all the conversation?” Jessica demanded. She walked forward. “He is a guy, after all… no offense.”

“None taken,” Peter squeaked.

Jessica smiled at him sweetly as she knelt between his knees. “Of course, we could always stop. Since we’re not going to let you come.”

“Uh-uh,” Carol agreed.

“Not unless you promise to fuck MJ first chance you get. So is it really worth it? Knowing you’ll just be setting yourself up to go through the agony of needing to come but not being able to? Do you really think you can be Spider-Woman’s plaything and not end up doing everything she wants?”

Peter’s cock, partially overlaid by his waistband, had finally grown too hard to be held down. It snapped upward, his pants almost pathetically deflating to around his ankles, while his cock stood up from his groin, erect and doused in precum like a melting candle.

“Men,” Carol said.

“You’ve gotta love ‘em,” Jessica said. “Remember, Peter, you wanted this. Because that is a nice, hard cock. You just haven’t been too nice about using it on MJ’s hot little pussy lately. So we’re going to show you just how it feels to get all excited and end up disappointed.”

“You little tease,” Carol sneered.

“Why is this turning me on!?” Peter cried.

Jessica swooped down and engulfed his swelling cock in her hot mouth. She licked and sucked in a mad frenzy, nearly driving Peter to an immediate climax with her supremely sloppy blowjob, before she stopped abruptly, her lipstick smeared all across his cock, her eyes starting to shimmer with tears from her attempt to take him in her throat. His cock stood even taller.

“Come and play with his balls, Carol. And tell me if it looks like he’s going to blow his load.”

Carol grabbed Peter’s engorged balls and began to rub them seductively, kneading them a little roughly, but always backing off so that the feeling of Jessica throating him could take precedence. Peter’s face turned a bright red, with Carol working his balls and Jessica subjecting his stiffness to her hungry mouth.

“Feel good, Peter?” Carol teased, looking down lovingly at her girlfriend as Jessica ran her tongue lightly up his shaft. “Feel really, really good?”

Peter groaned in need. He could feel the hot cum boiling away in his cock. Carol’s tits were rubbing against his legs as she stroked his balls, and Jessica’s mouth was sucking and nipping at his aching manhood with no sign of stopping.

“Jesus!” he groaned suddenly, almost at the breaking point. He tried to keep quiet, knowing Jessica would stop just when she thought he was ready to come.

“Almost there!” Carol cried out.

Jessica pulled herself off his member abruptly. Carol stopped playing with his balls. Peter let out a gasp of pure frustration. He’d been close. He had no idea he could get that close and not come.

Jessica laughed at the expression on Peter’s face. “Poor Peter. So close, yet so far away.”

“Can I suck on it now?” Carol asked.

“No. He’s still too ready. We’d just have to touch him to set him off.” Jessica smiled wickedly. “Maybe we can play together a little. You know… a little pregame for Cancun?”

“And Peter has to watch,” Carol smirked. “We’re such bullies.”

“We are.”

“I mean, we’d totally double-team him if he just agreed to help MJ baby up.”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m a little disappointed we can’t.”

“Yeah, Peter, c’mon.”

“Let us fuck you.”

“Help us help you!”

Peter clenched his eyes tightly shut. “I… don’t even know what preshool placement is like in New York. What if MJ and I have a kid and he can’t even get into a good school?”

“Carol, get his webshooters. Let’s gag him.”

Peter’s cock twitched.

“Seriously?” he asked it.

***

As Jessica gasped and rolled her belly, Carol exulted. She was doing it, pleasing Jessica, satisfying her, feeling around the velvet sheath of her sex with tongue and gently raking teeth. Using her tongue the way she remembered, the way Jessica had done for her. Carol stroked deeply, withdrawing with quick little curls of her tongue. It was amazing how much Jessica could squirm for her.

Amazing too how quickly all the little problems fell away, all the lack of communication, the deadly stray thoughts and suspicions and worries. This was what mattered. How she could pleasure Jessica, and how she could keep her safe, make her happy, have her emotionally and romantically and physically…

Jessica hunched tempestuously to Carol’s mouth and Carol kissed desperately, every little suck another taste of the honeyed sweetness that Jess seemed to be made out of. Her cunt was slick, wondrous, liquid, and it bathed her chin and her cheeks, making her think of a ripe, seedless pomegranate.

“I love you so much, Carol, so much—missed you so much—need you so much—“

Carol almost ignored her, except to reach up and take Jessica’s hand, feel her squeeze with her enhanced strength and squeeze back with her own superhuman might—perhaps they were the only two people on Earth who could hold each other’s hands this tightly.

Then there was the clitoris, Jessica’s quivering, succulent little joy-source, hidden away but found quickly by Carol’s tongue. She was relearning and remembering Jessica’s body with every passing moment, and thought perhaps even that she didn’t have to remember. That they were so alike that Carol just had to know her own body and she would also know Jessica’s.

Drawing upon the clit, she manipulated its ardor with her tongue, circling it, pressing down, releasing just before she’d expended the maximum pressure. Jessica was squirming fervently, rocking her sleek hips from side to side, grinding and smearing herself against Carol’s mouth in an attempt to capture Carol’s tongue forever. Carol would not be caught, but she ate Jessica as if trying to devour her, to swallow her down and taste her sugared cunt forever.

“Oh darling!” Jessica cried out. “Let’s not—let’s not ever fight again! Carol, you’re driving my little clit crazy! You’re making me come!” She sniffled, so happy she was crying. “You’re making me… making me…!”

Carol felt the churning of Jessica’s fiery sex, the shudders that wracked that sleek and twisting body. She could almost come herself, enjoying the rapture she was giving Jessica so much, enjoying the feel and the taste of her pussy so damn much. Lifting her face from that delightfully wanton playground, she licked greedily at the overflowing juices that had moistened Jessica’s taint, denying Jessica all but a fraction of pleasure before returning to the keenly anticipating clit…

***

The thing was, Peter’d gotten pretty good at webbing in recent years. What with the symbiotes, the clones, the alternate universes, and yeah, occasionally people tying him up so he couldn’t participate in kinky bondage fun. One trick was to puff his chest out, flex his arms, so that when he was cocooned, it was looser than it would normally be. Not enough to slip free of, but he could move his arm, slide it around under the webbing, get to his cock and, as he watched Carol and Jessica sixty-nine—holy shit—give himself a helping hand…

A big glowing blue-green laser shot into the sky. That was never a good sign. Seeming as frustrated as he was—if not more so—Jess and Carol scrambled to the window, looking up at what just had to be a portal.

“What is it?” Peter asked. “Skrulls? Kree?”

“Shi’ar, looks like,” Carol said, and she spoke with certainty.

“Well, at least it’s novel.”

Carol rushed over to free Peter, ripping his webbing away in swathes. “Offer still stands. The moment we see MJ walking funny, you get us.”

“Both of us,” Jessica added, somewhat unnecessarily, as she struggled into her bodysuit. It seemed much too small to fit her heaving body, but then, Peter was one to talk.

“Ladies, I’m trying as much as I can not to think about exactly that,” Peter insisted, trying to put his cock away.

They both looked at him, and paused a moment, doing exactly that.

“You sure your pants are long enough for that?” Jessica asked.

“Maybe he should wear stilts or… something.”

“Don’t objectify me,” Peter insisted. “I’m not a piece of meat.”

***

Peter ended up fighting another the damn Shi’ar half the night. He barely woke up to hear that there was a family outing planned to South Beach, and he insisted on coming along. This was a practice run for Felicia’s baby, after all, and he wouldn’t be able to skip out on that.

He held baby Jonathan a lot, slept through the ferry ride, and finally ended up on the sand. He didn’t really wake up until he was in the changing station, putting on board shorts and a tropical shirt; both gag gifts that he couldn’t really see the gag in.

He came out and there were MJ and Felicia, setting up beach chairs, pinning down a towel with their bags and picnic basket. Mary Jane wore a long, gauzy swim wrap, slit to leave one long leg impressively bare, while her white top cupped her breasts in their jiggling like a pair of gently exploring hands.

Felicia wore black. The triangles of her bra cups just barely constrained her cleavage, while bulged a little ways around the fabric with each breath. Her bottoms were a neat thong, with just enough of a triangle in front to cover her pubis, in contrast to the hip-hugging boy-shorts MJ wore under her skirt.

Remembering the similar lingerie they’d worn the other night, Peter wondered if he’d be short of breath…

Mary Jane walked toward him, Jonathan cradled in her arms, her hips swaying, long legs drawing the eyes of men and women alike. She was used to it, and the soft whistles of admiration from the bolder men—although the one from Felicia, back on the beach towel, prompted a look over her shoulder. Finally, she reached Peter.

The wind blew her long skirt out of the way, exposing her satiny inner thighs and the tight little crotch of her bikini, however conservative it was in comparison to Felicia’s. “I saw a little ice cream stand on the way in. Think I’ll go get us some cones as a reward for surviving the bus ride.”

“Sounds good,” Peter said, surprised at how husky his voice sounded.

“You have your wallet?”

“No, I put it in the bag, with our clothes.”

“Right,” Mary Jane said, thrusting Jonathan into Peter’s arms—about the only thing that could distract him from MJ marching back to Felicia. As the old saying went, hate to see you go, love to watch you leave.

For now, though, Peter held Jonathan up to his face, quickly having discerned that the baby loved pawing at Peter’s unfamiliar face, the hint of stubble, the crooked smile and quirked jaw, as if he thought he would grow up to have some of that face. Peter smiled amicably as Jonathan roundly explored his nose, pulling a nostril open with tiny fingers.

And as cute as Felicia found Peter gaggling over the boy, her dark sunglasses were trained on Mary Jane as she rummaged through the beach bag for money. MJ’s back was to her and she was on her knees. It was a nice pose. Felicia had no idea how Peter could resist that, but given all the years he had resisted her, she simply had to conclude that the man was inexplicable.

She stretched her long, voluptuous body on the huge towel they’d brought, the sand hot beneath her, its heat seeping through the towel like warm oil. She rested her head on crossed arms, sunglasses sheltering her eyes from the pleasant tingle of a summer sun, the rest of her protected from the heat by the slight breeze coming off the tide, moving her rich argent hair about lazily. She smiled at how indolent it felt, flickering across her back. She’d used to come to this beach to make out. Now she brought her family here. Now she had a family.

Peter Indian-sat beside her, picking up a bottle of tanning oil he’d intuited she’d left out for him to apply. After unbuttoning his shirt to let in the cool breeze, he squirted out some lotion and rubbed it between his hands. “It’s not that I don’t get it. Wanting to start a family and all that. I get it. I just don’t get why you want it to happen right now.”

Felicia untied her top, not wanting the tell-tale strip of a tanline marking her flesh. It was bad enough she had to wear bottoms. She needed to buy her own beach. “We don’t want it to happen now, we just don’t want it to become one of those ‘maybe, someday’ things.”

“If you don’t want it now, why the ultimatum?”

“It’s not an ultimatum, it’s so you’ll take us seriously. You’re not exactly big into commitment, and that’s coming from me. It took you how long to join the Avengers?”

“They have very high standards,” Peter sniffed.

He poured more tanning oil onto her bare back, started rubbing it into her silky skin. His hands felt good on her flesh, especially with the slow way they moved up and down from her shoulders to her skimpy thong.

“They let Justice in,” Felicia replied.

“He’s a great guy!”

“I’m just saying. There are like a hundred super teams out there, but how long did it take for you to join one? You had a clone and he joined a team before you. You could’ve at least signed up for X-Factor…”

“I’m not a mutant!”

“Neither is Namor. Or Juggernaut. Or Mimic—“

“Okay, how much of a nerd are you? Be honest. Should you be wearing Star Wars T-shirts?”

Felicia murmured softly as Peter’s hands kept up their movements, massaging her flesh gently, almost too lightly. She shifted her shoulder, finding a more comfortable pressure on her chest. Seeing her, you’d think she’d been lulled to sleep by Peter’s rubdown, but Felicia was wide awake, her eyes open behind the dark sunglasses. She was watching the people, taking in the varieties of bodies, of skin, of intimacy in the couples and families.

None of them were as attractive to her as Peter, even with his slender musculature so easily hidden by a few layers of clothing.

With a sigh, Felicia shifted her position again, parting her long legs, digging her toes into the hot sand.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” she heard Peter say softly.

“You’re not,” she replied lazily.

“It’s just that it’s like you’re pressuring me…”

“By not having sex with you?”

Peter worked his hands up and down her back. “By not doing what you want so you can prove a point.”

“Mad we stole your game?”

Something about Felicia’s bold-faced confrontation, her provocateur act, heated Peter up. It wasn’t quite anger, wasn’t quite lust. It was knowing that she could press his buttons and he couldn’t even bring himself to mind. His hands now shook slightly as he continued to rub oil into her flesh. He kept looking at her ass, the backs of her thighs, not realizing his breathing was getting louder.

“It’s not about what I want, it’s about what’s best for us, all of us. Suddenly being a family—a family with two kids—“

“Peter, we’ve always been a family, we just haven’t admitted it. And if it’s not about what you want, how come you’re trying to talk me into giving you what you want?” Felicia smiled frostily at him. “Or is it what you need?”

She’d heard Peter’s breathing, knew the sound well. She didn’t feel embarrassed. On the contrary, she bunched and squeezed her ass, knowing Peter was watching, wondering if he was getting a hard-on, wanting to take a peek at him. She flexed her cheeks, spread her long thighs, purred softly as Peter’s touch grew firm on her.

“I don’t care whether you have sex with me—“

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t care that much whether you have sex with me—“

“Uh-huh.”

“Damnit, I just want you to be happy! And if you’re going through some crazy scheme to get me to agree to this, then clearly you’re invested in it!”

“Of course I’m invested in it, Peter, it’s a baby, not a time-share. Rub harder, please. Really get in there.”

She wasn’t really so high-minded. She wanted Mary Jane to have her baby, believed it would be best for Peter to be a father from the beginning instead of stewing in his mistakes—but part of Felicia just wanted to see Peter break down and fuck MJ like he only did when he’d been pushed to the limit.

Her body writhed with the mental image, her cunt vibrant. She felt Peter’s hands running over the backs of her thighs now. Her breath caught. His hands really did feel good, so very good—she could feel the power in them that had him climbing walls all day. And he was moving them slowly, up and down, from her knees to her buttocks, never quite touching the swell of her ass. Or seeming to, but roaming over the insides of her thighs instead, making her cunt respond with torrid heat.

Forgetting about the crowded beach, Felicia raised herself on her elbow and glanced at Peter. He did. He did have a hard-on. It pressed at the front of his shorts and made a substantial movement with its throbbing. And, knowing she was watching him, Peter slid his hands up and down Felicia’s satiny thighs, almost panting with excitement. Now the edge of his hand moved a little too high along the innermost curve of her thigh. Felicia gasped as she felt his fingers press at the crotch of her bikini, then jerk away quickly.

Felicia’s breath was hot as she slipped a hand from under her head and moved it onto Peter’s thigh. She held her breath as she slowly stroked the firm muscle there. Peter was staring at her hand, his own resting on Felicia’s thighs, as if waiting for her to start so that he could reciprocate.

Felicia didn’t even try to resist. She had to touch it. The tips of her fingers pressed in, found his shaft, and Peter’s mouth opened in a silent gasp. His hands tightened on her thighs. Felicia reached up the leg of his shorts and—there he was. There he was.

She felt the heat on her body, felt it between her legs, listened to Peter’s heavy breathing. She made herself a promise that when Peter finally broke down and fucked Mary Jane, she would be there, letting him hold onto her no matter how much it hurt, feeling the pressure as it mounted and released…

God, she could just picture it, see it in a wet kind of fire between her legs. She imagined Peter’s cock hard, his fist pumping, Mary Jane leaning back to catch his load in her mouth, her slim leg spread open, her pink cunt already full of cum…

Felicia moaned, her body pressing in on itself, pressing in on the small, but very nice orgasm that opened like a fist inside her sex. She felt Peter’s hands pause on her thighs. He’d seen the sudden clutching of her ass, her thong drawn up even further into the split of her ass to expose essentially all of her creamy buttocks, the fabric itself lost between the voluptuous cheeks. She might as well have been naked now, the rippling and contracting of her ass fully exposed.

Leaning over, Peter glanced quickly at Felicia’s crotch. He saw a few white hairs curling from the tight band—a trace of moisture.

“Hungry?” he heard Mary Jane say.

Peter turned around to see MJ returning, Jonathan in his carrier, three ice cream cones deftly held in her hands. He watched as Mary Jane’s little pink tongue moved about the twist of cream atop her waffle cone, neatly ladling away a helping of homemade vanilla.

Felicia got up, holding her top over her heaving breasts, and took the cone MJ offered with her other hand. She took a bite out of it.

“I have to go pee,” Peter said bluntly. He started across the hot sand, toward the vending stands and the parking lot.

Mary Jane nonchalantly sat down beside Felicia, brushing sand from her legs. “This ice cream tastes soooo good,” she told Felicia, just loud enough for Peter to overhear.

Peter didn’t go to one of the toilets. He kept going.

A moment later, something exploded and there were robots.