Eight Legs For Three Ladies update (Patreon)

Shit, Gwen felt like she was frothing at the mouth. “Fuck me, Peter!” she cried, finally getting hold of her voice. “For God’s sake, fuck me! Be the first to fuck me! And now, right now!”

“Okay, gorgeous, I won’t make you beg,” Peter whispered, giving her a light tap forward, onto the bed.

But as she stretched out on it, Gwen had to admit she liked the sound of him making her beg. He’d all but done that now, and it’d made Gwen more excited than she’d ever been. Even if she hadn’t intended to give him her virginity, she knew that she wouldn’t have been able to resist. Not after seeing how Mary Jane had enjoyed it.

(Why couldn’t she stop thinking of that bitch?)

Gwen rolled onto her back, looking up at Peter from the bed. His compact body, trim and sculpted… the muscle shockingly firm… tautly potent on his swimmer’s build. It had Gwen breathing heavy, a shaky grin as she imagined the power in that body directed at her as it’d been given to Mary Jane. Peter smiled back at her, seeing the bliss and thrill in her eyes, unbelievably grateful to have it be because of him.

“Do it to me now, Peter. Fuck me! Make me a woman!” Gwen cried desperately.

She thought she must be the luckiest girl in the world to have such a handsome, well-built, courteous man about to take her cherry. She glanced down at his prick for the last time before it was buried in her and her mind reeled. Then again, maybe she’d be more fortunate if her first time was with someone less well-endowed.

But screw that. She wanted that enormous prick, wanted to have mind and body wrecked by his fucking the same way Mary Jane had been. If it hurt, it hurt, but she could take anything Mary Jane could. She wanted it. She trembled with surging lust. Gwen could tell that no bout of masturbation, no average joe could appease the ache deep in her sex. Only a man like Peter could give her the proper release. And besides, she loved him. She didn’t wantanyone else, no matter how much more tenable it would be to fit their manhood inside her tiny, virginal cunt.

“Make me yourwoman,” she trilled.

Peter nodded manfully. He stretched out on top of the blonde, covering her with his body until he could kiss her on the lips. Gwen moaned, finally feeling something for the tingling in her skin to bounce off of, then the added sensation of his throbbing prick against her thigh. Her nipples trilled against his toned chest.

He kissed her soulfully, their naked flesh pressing together, grinding close in a thrilling reenactment of all the times they’d kissed and touched before. Only this time was different. This time there were no clothes in the way. No inhibitions either. Gwen had asked for everything Peter wanted to do to her.

“Hurry, Peter—I’m tired of not feeling your hard cock inside me!” Gwen pleaded, her voice thick with lust.

“I don’t want to hurt you by going too fast,” he explained.

“I’m too damn wet to be scared—too tender. Anything would feel better than not having you fuck me!”

“You don’t have to act like Mary Jane for me to want you,” Peter said huskily, planting his palms flat on the blanket to either side of Gwen’s head, delighting at the soft feel of Gwen’s golden hair under his fingers.

Gwen looked up at him, wanton lust darkening her eyes. “Who’s acting? Even virgins have imagination. And I just now saw what you can really do. I want that, Pete. I don’t want you to be soft or gentle or tender. I want you to prove to me, prove to both of us, that I can take it just as hard as she can. I don’t care if you break my little cunt; I want to know that I satisfied you.”

Looking into her eyes, Peter could tell she meant every word.

At that moment, Gwen would do just about anything to get him inside her. She felt that she’d just found the man she would spend the rest of her life with—and wanted to find out what pleasures awaited her, every night, for the rest of her life.

She would gladly, even eagerly, be his for all eternity… just so long as she felt a fraction of what Mary Jane had enjoyed.

The redheaded bitch.

Gwen whimpered with anticipation, opening her legs as far as her straining thighs would reach, up into the air, making a wide V with her feet. Her inner thighs brushed the sides of Peter’s hips as they shook with the tension of her opening. Then she draped her arms around Peter’s muscular shoulders, pulling him down to her. Her knees bent last, wrapping her legs around his, her ankles crisscrossing the backs of his knees. The cool leather of her boots, the only thing she wore, sizzled against his legs.

She had him. She was ready for him. All she needed was one last little push and she wanted that to be him, wanted Peter to be the one to enter her, fuck her, own her. She wanted that final, climactic entry to be proof positive of his need and want for her.

Peter lifted his hips as much as Gwen’s hugging limbs would let him. With the lightness of a dancer, he came up onto the tips of his steepled fingers and the toes of his feet, then his arms flexed and his thighs corded and he was rubbing the tip of his stiff cock in an obscene circle around Gwen’s pubic mound.

“Ohh, Peter,” she whined, closing her eyes—so lost in lust that she couldn’t see anyway. Just like she’d told Peter, she was turned on enough that she wasn’t afraid of the pain that losing her virginity to his huge cock was bound to make her experience. In fact, she wanted the pain. It would let her know that this was real.

Peter held himself up on his left hand. It was no problem for his proportionate strength, but he found himself breathing heavily anyway—thinking about being the one to initiate Gwen into sex. As much as he and Mary Jane and he and Felicia had done over the years, obviously they’d never done that.

With his right hand, he took hold of his stiff prick and led it down to the opening of Gwen’s pussy. He tensed the muscles of his hips. He took a deep breath.

“Hurry, Peter, hurry and fuck me!” Gwen cried, still holding him with her arms and legs, her booted toes tapping against the backs of his calves. Cool leather, but the motions pregnant with her heat. She could smell the faint hint of Listerine left behind on his panting breath from that morning and somehow it aroused her even more.

Peter lowered his face down very close to her and the wanton expression she wore. He nuzzled his cheek against her, holding Gwen tight so she could feel his closeness all the way through it, and then he thrust with his lean hips as hard as he dared, shoving himself through her unused opening, neatly separating her from her life as a virgin.

“HHHHAAAAHH!” Gwen screamed, a bloodcurdling cry as she felt her virginity leaving her once and for all—her pussy spending its first moment as a receptacle for his cock, a state she knew it would be in very often from then on. “Fuck, it hurts, Peter, it huuuurts!”

Peter held his hips down, keeping himself inside her. He kissed Gwen, trying to distract her from the pain, but she didn’t mind it. Just as she’d foreseen, it made this all impossible to ignore—impossible to be a dream or fantasy—it was real, and so was the pleasure stealing in around the fading pain. She pulled at his tautly muscled ass, not wanting him to stop until his entire cock was hilted inside her.

“You’re… you’re liking this, right?” Peter groaned, feeling some pain himself as he strained to make his way through Gwen’s untried tightness, no matter how his tender, engorged manhood felt constrained by her slender passage.

The pleasure, though, was next to unbearable. He was used to ignoring pain, not blocking out delight. Peter felt like coming already and the effort of holding himself back was making him lightheaded.

“Yesss,” Gwen moaned slowly, throwing her head from side to side. “It hurts, but it’s good—and I love the way it feels. I can’t wait to feel all of your cock inside me!”

She only hoped her tiny cunt would be able to take the full length of Peter’s member. Yet she didn’t truly worry about its size. As he pushed deeper into her stretching pussy, she sighed with delight, then laughed shakily about the answering pain. It was there, but there was less and less of it with each passing moment, especially in comparison with the amount of pleasure her convulsing folds were feeling.

“You won’t have to wait long,” Peter grunted with obvious delight at how well she was taking him. “In fact, you’ve waited long enough!”

Gwen opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that, but before she could utter a thing, Peter thrust mercilessly into her, driving the remainder of his length into her aching cunt.

Gwen’s lips snapped shut, opened again, closed again—they continued to move soundlessly as her eyes bulged. She rolled her fingers into little fists and beat at Peter’s slender back, somehow knowing she was doing him no harm, only helping herself to absorb the immense qualities of pain and pleasure that were flooding over her.

Her sex was being pushed to the breaking point. Her inner muscles burned and strained around Peter’s thick cock, convulsing, clutching at his hardness in all its length, all its thickness. Every lustful throb it gave sent a tremor through Gwen’s folds, through all of her body.

Peter withdrew, only to shove back into her, harder, faster. The faster and harder he went, the more it hurt. And the more it hurt, the better the pleasure was. Gwen came to love the feeling of total supplication she felt, laying beneath Peter’s big cock, feeling the most intense delight she’d ever known—and the feeling only mounted and mounted.

“Take it all, Gwen! Take my whole cock!” Peter grunted, his voice reverberating into her as if it were part and parcel with the erection that was reaming out so much of her—filling her up so full.

“YES! I’ll take it all! I love it! Give it all to me, Peter! Fuck me as hard as you can!” Gwen keened.

“Think you can take much more of this,” Peter teased her, “before you’re all fucked out?”

“I’ll take it! I can take it! I don’t care how much it hurts! I love the pain!” Gwen admitted, her cheeks blazing with her confession.

Peter chuckled—a laugh much like the half-disbelieving one Gwen used as she absorbed this strange mix of pain and pleasure, love and mastery, that delighted her more than anything ever had.

He couldn’t believe that Gwen, the good girl, the virgin, was now rivaling Mary Jane in the bedroom. She’d never been unattractive, but she’d never exuded the raw sex appeal of MJ either. Hell, she was giving Felicia a run for her money—and that girl, if anything, was too sexy.

He’d thought that Gwen was putting on airs when she declared that she wanted everything Mary Jane had gotten… but he could see now that she was more self-aware than he’d given her credit for. She’d known she had the same lusts Mary Jane was so open about. While he’d written her off as a bit of a prude, Gwen had clearly just been waiting for the right guy. The guy who would satisfy her. And Peter intended for that guy to be him, now and forever.