Eight Legs For Three Ladies update (Patreon)

But as much as Gwen was enjoying herself, Peter had the very best of it. While his demanding cock was taking all the pleasure it could get from Mary Jane’s sex, he was tasting the rich wetness of Gwen’s aroused cunt—tickling her clit to pleasure both women at once.

It was a moment of pure pride for him, feeling their lovely distress as they writhed and moaned, trying to withstand how he had them wracked with pleasure, helplessly relishing the assault of satiation on their lustful urges. He satisfied them until it ached and they still wanted more.

Peter soared and surged, pumping and pistoning and licking away, lost to the world, living in the decadent rapture of having two gorgeous ladies both owe their delight to him. He kept going and going, his only reservation the nagging thought that Felicia would never forgive him for letting her miss out on this delicious orgy.

It was Gwen who gave in to the pleasure first. The orgiastic lewdness was just too much for her inexperienced body. She felt her culmination rushing unstoppably into her and her eyes went big, her mouth falling open. She grabbed Peter’s head and her body was stricken. Frozen, she throbbed up into Peter’s licking mouth with delighted cries of “Oh, OH, OH, I’M YOURS!”

Legs wrapped around Peter’s waist, cunt stuffed with utter ecstasy, Mary Jane heard Gwen’s desperate expressions of release and succumbed to Peter’s ravaging cock herself.

“I have to—oh God—have to do it! Peter! It’s here! Peter!” she screamed, feeling like she was trying to get his attention, make him see what he was doing to her with that wonderful prick.

Her cunt pulsed and pulsed and pulsed, shuddering with how hard her folds were locked around Peter’s erection. She froze up taut, body locked as tight as Gwen had, and then relaxed her belly in pure feminine surrender, her pussy feeling like a gong rung by Peter’s manhood while she lost herself in the white-hot blaze that was partly in her cunt and partly in Peter’s demanding thrusts.

Peter couldn’t help himself. His stamina would normally carry him through multiple orgasms without complaint, and physically eating out Gwen shouldn’t have increased the sensations he was getting from rutting Mary Jane. So maybe it was novelty. Two orgasms at once, two hot cunts in bliss at the same time thanks to him—maybe no man could resist that. With Gwen panting in relief and Mary Jane sobbing in orgasm over the sound of another woman’s climax, Peter’s eruption was pure triumph. He roared out his victory into Gwen’s pussy as she continued to come.

His body tensed, all his muscles and nerves and glands blurring together in one supreme paroxysm. First, for a flitter of eternity, there was a glorious paralysis. Then the deluge, his release wondrously centered in the woman he’d always craved so much. He spurted and spurted, as if doing it for both Mary Jane and the girl whose taste was in his mouth, Gwen Stacy, coming along with him and MJ. Animalistic grunts into her cunt as he pumped into Mary Jane with massive, exulting release.

He spent himself in total fulfillment of his potency, feeling both Mary Jane and Gwen locked in identical rapture—he could feel the beat of their insistent bliss at both his tongue and his member. Peter floated away sublimely, briefly flying off from himself, as if his bodily consummation was too perfect for his consciousness to stand it.

He came back to his flesh suspended in contentment, perfect satiation, and saw that Mary Jane felt much the same way. The dazed look on her face would’ve been blank if it weren’t for the overwhelming feeling of satisfaction coming off her, lighting up her already beautiful face to make her a vision.

Her smile was all the more dazzling for not seeming at all meant to charm, only expressing an innermost happiness that Peter was proud to feel responsible for. Wanting nothing more than to not disturb her ecstasy, Peter picked himself up off Mary Jane before the insisting pulse of his arousal—still there, for he was contented by the feast, not by any means full—could bother her.

And then he saw that Mary Jane had gotten the better part of it. As much as Gwen had enjoyed herself, and he knew she’d enjoyed herself, she hadn’t shared that perfectly excessive delight. And as pleased as she was, Gwen didn’t appear pleased that Mary Jane had.

“I can see she didn’t satisfy you,” Gwen said snippily, relishing the chance to get in some barbs at Mary Jane’s expense while the redhead couldn’t respond.

“She didn’t… ah.” Peter looked down and saw that Gwen had taken his hard-on as a sign of Mary Jane’s failing, rather than virility on his account. That was probably for the best. He didn’t really have an explanation for his utter lack of refractory periods.

With Mary Jane, he was careful to chain his climaxes together so she took them all as one big orgasm. For a girl with her reputation, she didn’t seem to find anything odd about the fact that his ejaculations tended to creampie her pussy, cover her breasts or her face, and then end up in a mouth, doing a number on her calorie count.

Gwen was a virgin… probably wouldn’t find anything strange if his spider-sense went off in the middle of the action. But Mary Jane—maybe she thought he was a mutant or an Inhuman or something.

Hell, maybe she knew he was Spider-Man.

Nah. She probably just thought he was the bastard son of Peter North.

“So…” Gwen went on, taking his continuing hardness as a sign of interest. Which, among other things, it was. “How about we pick up where she left off? You already got me ready. You… God… really got me ready…” She shook off the fond memory of the satisfaction that was still quivering inside her, then popped an eyebrow. “You can even give Mary Jane some cunnilingus while we’re doing it. I won’t mind. Turnabout is fair play.”

Peter thought about it. He didn’t think of himself as too vanilla, but considering the load he’d just given MJ… Would he be a douche to ask her to douche first?

Of course, it wasn’t exactly a pressing issue. Aside from blinking, Mary Jane didn’t look like she was going anywhere anytime soon. Peter gave her a soft kiss—that would have to do for the cuddling—and went to take care of Gwen. Maybe if Mary Jane were less blissed out, she’d have more to say about that, but Peter doubted she would care for that trade-off.

Gwen turned around, leaving Mary Jane on the floor to strut her way to the bed—she knew the way, even if she’d never been there—and Peter blinked after her. God, it was practically obscene the way she looked in nothing but those tall boots, her juicy little ass wiggling at the top of her long legs, her slender back undulating with each step she took, thick blonde hair shimmering down her shoulders. Despite her virginity, there was nothing about her that wasn’t sexual. She might not be the expert—so to speak—that Mary Jane was, but she seemed to Peter like a born natural.

He padded after her, automatically reaching around his body to strip, before remembering that Mary Jane and Gwen had already done the job for him. Peter was so unused to that, to this whole deliriously pleasurable episode, that he poked at his own naked flesh a little before the realization came. Maybe he’d spent too much time in the spider-suit if he couldn’t tell when he was wearing clothes or not. Thank God that thing was in the wash at the moment…

Gwen stopped at the side of the bed, making no move to take off her boots. Peter didn’t mind. The picture she made was so sumptuous, even though he knew intellectually she’d look just as good without them on, he couldn’t bear to try it.

Then Gwen turned her head, looking over her bare shoulder on him. Her eyes hooded, her grin sultry with a dark curiosity that seemed at the moment better than any experience. As much as Mary Jane enjoyed sex, Gwen wanted to find out about it, and the difference was deliciously vast. The look on her face alone—her lovely face—improved even on the perfect vision of her naked body.

“I want what Mary Jane got, but I don’t want you to do to me what you did to her,” she said. “I want you to do to me… what you want to do to me. And you can do whatever you want to me.”

Peter could’ve laughed. His mind was swirling. As much as he loved Mary Jane, he was the beast he was with her because he loved her, because he knew MJ wanted that from him. Everything as frenzied, as passionate, as she could get it. Gwen thought that she wanted the same thing and that Peter wanted to do the same thing—for Gwen to get her own fucking, hard and fast.

But as turned on as he was, Peter found that what he really wanted was just to show Gwen how much he loved her, the same way he’d shown Mary Jane. He wanted to be gentle, not to hurt her, to make her feel good until Gwen found out what made her feel really good. It sounded corny as hell, even on the inside of his skull, but the last thing Peter wanted… what he actually found unarousing at this point… was the notion of taking her like a bitch in heat, even as Gwen clearly signaled for him to do that.

Well, maybe that was what she’d turn out to be into. Stranger things had happened; were happening. He’d just have to play it by ear. Show her what was in his heart, before he was too turned on to think at all.

He pressed himself up behind Gwen, wrapping his arms around her chest, kissing the lovely curve of her neck, up the delicate scalp frosted with blonde hair, until he was nibbling lightly on her ear. Brushing a golden lock out of the way to probe his tongue inside of it. Gwen cooed and gasped for breath—then unmistakably wiggled the pert ass he’d been admiring back into his groin.

Peter groaned at the feel of her naked ass against his erection. It wasn’t easy to keep his cool while her soft, smooth flesh was massaging every inch of his manhood. But he had to be strong for Gwen. He wanted to take her virginity so gently that she’d love it, end up with as great an enjoyment of sex as Mary Jane. For that, he could manage to hold himself back.

***

Gwen wondered what the hell was taking Peter so long. She was moaning, waiting to feel his cock fucking into her cherry, pushing all the way into her cunt and plowing the shit out of her. So what was the hold up? Had he really been so turned on by Mary Jane that now he couldn’t bear to put it in her? Because that was ridiculous! Even if Peter was the most sex-crazed pervert alive, he wouldn’t turn her down just because she wasn’t Mary Jane. It wasn’t like he was in love with the bitch or anything!

But he’d fucked MJ so hard—she’d enjoyed it so much—Peter and Mary Jane both. Even Gwen had enjoyed it, watching, joining in with Peter’s mouth on her cunt. She’d told herself she was just relishing having gotten one over on Mary Jane, but it’d been more than that. Watching the two of them in action while Peter went down on her, it’d almost been pornographic. She could’ve been touching herself instead of letting Peter do it and she’d still have loved it. Not as much, but she would’ve come.

And that was insane! She’d enjoyed it because she loved Peter! So if she’d enjoyed watching Peter and MJ together, it was just because she was so attracted to Peter! She’d find him hot, be aroused by him if he were covered in mud or grease or oil. Seeing him with Mary Jane was pretty much the same thing.

But right now, the closest she was getting to being fucked was imagining it was her with red hair, feeling Peter’s enormous prick inside her. Gwen trembled, her breasts swelling up achingly, her nipples growing stiff. Christ, why did it feel so good to think about the two of them together? Before, the thought had been like a red cape waving in front of her. But now… now that she’d actually watched them fuck…

She felt Peter’s erection throb against her pert ass. She wanted to beg him to fuck her, beg him to put these confused thoughts out of her head and replace them with the mad pleasure Mary Jane had felt (there was that bitch’s name again). But Gwen’s throat was suddenly closed and the word couldn’t get out. She couldn’t say a thing.

Thankfully, Peter spoke for her, breaking the silence that was charged with so many things Gwen couldn’t even identify. “Gwen, you’re lovely… I can’t believe I’ve never really shown you how lovely you are, how you make me feel…”