Auld Lang Syne 2 (Patreon)

“Really? Who did it? I’ll murder the bum,” Peter said sarcastically.

“You murdered the bum last night.”

Peter ambled into the bathroom and Mary Jane brought in two hot cups of coffee just as he sank down into the big tub.

“You always find a way to surprise me,” Peter said.

She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “I surprise myself too. I had no idea dressing up like that would have such an effect on me. I wonder if it was me or you…”

“Me or you what?”

“Was it the way the black leather made me feel or the way the black leather made you want me?”

“Don’t ask me to test that hypothesis now. All the black leather in the world couldn’t make me want you right now. Thank God it’s Saturday and I can get some rest.”

“Yes, dear, I promise I’ll bore the hell out of you,” Mary Jane teased him. “I’ll take you to a nice, dull breakfast and then a very quiet movie where all you have to do is hold my hand. We’ll ask the usher if there’s any loud music beforehand and leave if any teenagers come in to watch it.”

***

Mary Jane opened her blouse as they walked out to the car. She didn’t wear a bra, didn’t need one. Her succulent breasts bounced and jiggled inside the unbuttoned garment. When Peter got the door for her, she lifted her breast with her left hand and pulled him in for a kiss with her right.

Peter chuckled over her playfulness and kissed her lips, then peppered his kisses down her neck and over the slope of her breast until he’d given her nipple a quick suck. Only then did he back away, holding himself in front of Mary Jane while she closed her top to obscure the view.

“You’re something else,” he smiled.

Mary Jane giggled softly. Once again, she thought of the threesomes they’d had with Felicia and the early days of their marriage. Bare skin had never bothered her, or Peter either—it was only the fact that they were usually cohabiting with his Aunt May or one of Mary Jane’s relations that kept MJ from being a part-time nudist.

And now Mayday was what stopped that from happening. It made her wistful. Wouldn’t it have been something to have spent a whole week naked, just her skin and his, only putting on clothes to venture out for supplies?

Maybe she should look into a nude beach for their next vacation. Not that they could ever go without Mayday and not that Mary Jane would ever take her daughter to a place like that… but if some teleporter like Nightcrawler ever owed Peter a favor and they had a free afternoon…

Over breakfast, they spoke lightly, keeping their conversation innocent by silent agreement. Both were thinking of sex, both knew what the other was thinking, but neither wanted to ruin the anticipation by hyping it up too soon. They weren’t the nymphomaniacs they had once been, but the more Mayday asserted her independence, the more they fell into their old habits.

When they went back home, Mary Jane stopped just inside the front door and stripped down to nothing more than her panties. Peter rushed to get inside after her, and MJ knew it had more to do with getting at her body than with closing the door to stop the neighbors from seeing her.

Peter picked up her, easily as ever, taking her to the bedroom and only setting her down when they were in front of the full-length mirror Mary Jane always dressed herself in. She looked at herself in the mirror and giggled happily. No matter how much Peter loved her, it wasn’t simply devotion that had him primed for sex. Her body would inspire plenty of enthusiasm, even if they’d only met an hour ago.

Then she breathed hard, feeling Peter behind her, kissing the back of her neck. His deft hands caressed their way over her bare skin, raising goosepimples all across her flesh. He cupped her breasts and gently kneaded all he could hold; his fingers traced circles around the stiff nipples.

“Look how perfect you are,” he whispered.

“My breasts are too big,” Mary Jane teased him. She’d gone up a cup size having May and her bosom had never returned to its old shape, playing merry havoc with the supple model slenderness that’d had every fashion designer in the world wanting her wearing their product.

“That’s why they’re perfect,” Peter retorted.

He kissed the back of her neck through the cinnamon of her hair. His fingers danced lightly down her body, ticklingly sweeping over her taut belly before he was at her groin. He pulled the crotch of her panties aside and Mary Jane automatically opened her legs to allow him all the access he wanted between them.

His middle finger slid along her cleft and grazed her clitoris. Mary Jane sighed with enjoyment, encouraging him with further moans as his finger went back down and entered her hot, syrupy opening.

“And this is perfectly tight,” he cooed in her ear. “I’m still not sure how my cock fits inside.”

“You know damned well how,” Mary Jane replied. “It’s because you’re so determined to make sure I take it all.”

“Because you won’t be satisfied by anything less.”

“Oh, I’d be satisfied. But why settle for that? Make my eyes roll back in my head, tiger.”

Peter stopped fingering her, cupping her groin instead as he picked her up bodily and carried her to the bed. He’d well established her perfection. Now it was time for him to show her what he was going to do about it.

Mary Jane dropped to the bed, her fall sending an alluring ripple through her pert body. Peter took no time to appreciate it, or rather, he was already appreciating it. He seized a pillow and shoved it under the dimples of her ass. Just as quickly he skinned her panties down off her legs, allowing her to spread them and play with herself as he stripped.

Seeing her touch herself, Peter couldn’t wait any longer. Still undressing, he dropped down onto his stomach between his legs. His lips touched her labia, sending shivers through her as his tongue traveled over her clit and lapped at her slot.

Mary Jane bit her lip, longing for the space inside her to be filled by his erection, but for now, she was content that it was reverberating with the touch of his tongue. She clawed her hands into Peter’s hair, entwining them with his locks until she felt sure of her grip, then pulling his head between her thighs.

His tongue pushed into her, its lapping driving a beat that Mary Jane had to respond to. She thrust her hips up into it—moaned with the tempo it set—then came to a crescendo, crying out in ecstasy as her body bucked and twisted.

Peter let her off as her oversensitive folds trilled and fired, then he washed her wet cunt with his tongue. Kissed her clit a last time and came up on top of her naked body, his own nudity brushing against hers, quickly returning the lust he’d just sated.

“You know me a little too well,” Mary Jane panted, somewhere between catching her breath and racing into the excitement of what was to come. “Taking the edge off how much I want it, then doing me nice and slow so you can savor it.”

“Oh?” Peter asked. “Is that what I’m doing? Because I think you want it as much as ever.”

Mary Jane ran her fingers lightly over the burgeoning muscles of his chest, down his ribs, then gripped him about the hips, his narrow waist charged with so much hot blood under the skin that he could’ve been thrumming with electricity.

“I’m a good wife,” she said softly. “I want it as much as you want it. And of course, I just like that sweet ass of yours.”

She slid her hands down to squeeze his cheeks, the skin soft and only lightly scarred, flesh dense as a bag of quarters with all the muscle packed into that roundness. She hoped her own buttocks met with his approval as much as she liked his.

“That’s what you like, huh?” Peter asked, jerking his hips so that his trembling erection slid between her thighs.

“Well, my hands are small,” Mary Jane laughed. “It’s hard to get a grip on all that. Too bad I can’t order you a smaller one.”

“You could, but you’d have to wear it.”

“And who would I fuck with it?” Mary Jane teased.

“I could make a few suggestions…”

“I’ll bet. Who tops the list, Princess Leia or Seven of Nine?”

“Are you implying I’m some sort of nerd? I’ll have you know there are some Kardashians on my list…”

“Is that your way of telling me you wish my ass were bigger?”

“Oh no. I like your ass just the way it is.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t keep expanding it then. You know—stretching it out?”

“You shouldn’t look the way you do, then. It makes my cock the size it is and then, well, it’s just a question of physics.”

“I prefer chemistry.”

Mary Jane rolled around, getting Peter on his back and getting on top of him. She laid down with her head between his pecs, slowly wiggling her way down his height. Her breasts swayed across his thighs. Her long red hair covered his abs in silky rolls. She wanted that, wanted to engulf him while she serviced his cock.

Mary Jane came down to his groin and flicked out her tongue across the tip of his member, tasting the precum oozing from his glanshole. She swirled her tongue all around his knob, getting it nice and wet, then taking it into her mouth to suck on its burgeoning heat.

“Ahhh,” Peter sighed. “Don’t know how you fit that in there either.”

Mary Jane slurped her lips off his glans and swallowed the mixture of saliva and precum he’d coated the inside of her mouth with. “You get me wanting it too bad to leave anything in the open air.” Then she took him back between her lips.

From the very first time she’d accepted a cock into her mouth, Mary Jane had been enthralled with fellatio. And that lucky fellow had been nowhere near as endowed as Peter was. If he’d been her first exposure to the concept, MJ was sure she would’ve ended up an addict. She still had, certainly, but as far as she was concerned, addiction wasn’t a problem so long as she didn’t run out. And there was no problem of that with Peter.

Her lips were lush, her mouth generous. She opened it wide, curling her lips in over her teeth so she wouldn’t hurt Peter—not before it was something he’d enjoy. Then she slid his manhood inside her, corralling it with her tongue so it went in straight and smooth until it was touching the back of her throat.

His rigid masculinity filled her mouth, roiling with pleasure. Mary Jane felt every little spasm of that enjoyment. She wanted more. There was plenty of fun to be had before Peter finally rewarded MJ for her efforts.

Peter petted the length of her hair fondly. “Finish it,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with craving. “I need you to finish it.”

Mary Jane smiled up at him, knowing the only place for him to come was right in her mouth. Of course, she wanted him inside her, coming right where he’d given her their beloved Mayday, but that could wait. Right now this was both of their hunger.

She sucked him lovingly, masterfully, reducing Peter to moans and writhing, before taking her mouth off of his endowment and rubbing her cheek on its length. Kissing his bloated balls under the veil of her crimson tresses. They swarmed with teeming semen. Mary Jane felt the motion on her tender lips like the lightest of drizzles.

She brought him to a bellowing orgasm. Peter clasped his hands on the back of her head, making sure there would be no refusal as he shot his load into her sucking throat. Mary Jane loudly sputtered, gulping and gargling until there was nothing left of his slick semen. Nothing but the warmth trailing down her gullet, leading to a weight in her belly and a fire in her cunt.

Finally, Peter was drained. Mary Jane raised her head and kissed the tip of his reddened erection. Much as she relished his ejaculate, it was enough to make her wish he’d last even longer with her lips around him. She loved the way his hardness felt in her mouth.

But she’d had enough, at least for the moment. Mary Jane rolled off his groin, pillowing the back of her head on his muscular thigh, and licking her lips. Peter’s cum was better than flowers and gemstones… even better was how he reached down to pet her hair and stroke her scalp as she laid there, nice and full from the work she’d done. Content with the contentment she’d delivered.

Then the phone rang.