Bigger Hero 2 (Patreon)

Cass couldn’t believe it. Peter had finished off Honey Lemon, what, a moment ago? Now he wanted her for something?

Not that, of course. No way. Not even a satyr like Peter would… no. It had to be something else. Maybe he’d gone to take a shower and the plumbing had screwed up? Or he’d broken his bed; Cass would hardly be surprised if that were the case.

She went upstairs, expecting to pass Honey leaving at any moment, thinking how odd it was—maybe Honey was in the bathroom and Peter needed some help with straightening something out before she returned. But then, what could possibly be too awkward for Honey when she knew Peter was dating Gogo as well? When they were literally dating him at the same time?

But she didn’t see Honey until she went into Peter’s room. There Honey was, sprawled out on the bed, the misshapen blanket only partly covering her. She was spazzed out to all four points of the compass, an arm thrown across Peter beside her and another on the nightstand and a leg dangling down to the floor and her other leg veering away to stick out off the other end of the mattress.

Her small breasts were swollen and sweaty, heaving with her pitched lack of breast, and the blanket only covered one. The look on her face was one of joyous idiocy. She smiled open-mouthed, drooling running out one corner of her slack lips, and her eyes stared vacantly. Rolling shut, then opening again to stare at blankness, then closing once more.

Her eyesight seemed revived only by the shudders of satiation that went through her, like lights flickering after the power had gone out, and she moaned gently with each wave of afterglow passion that brought her close to consciousness, but then fell short of it.

“Peter,” she murmured, with her faltering, half-asleep voice. “Peter… Peter… mmmmm… again… a-again…”

Peter laid there on the bed too. He’d ceded most of the spread to Honey, though enough of the blanket covered him for modesty. Cass stared at what was revealed. His long, toned legs. His chiseled chest, shockingly cut, from his six-pack abs to the iceberg pecs to arms like tree trunks. All the things he carefully hid under his layers of shirts and jackets and coats—naked, it was like a cacophony.

Cass could only wonder what his cock was like. Her eyes went to his covered groin again and again, trying to discern its shape, even after it was drained. Was it as big as Gogo had implied? What was big to a woman like Gogo? And what exactly had he done to so completely overwhelm Honey?

Cass would’ve thought the girl was so innocent that it wouldn’t take much to blow her mind as Peter had done, but they’d been having these sexual Olympics for weeks now. No one was so innocent as to still be feeling like a virgin after all that, so Peter had to have some skill.

And here she was, in the room with him, the scent of sex still lingering in the air and his lover fallen where she lay, having been through God-only-knew-what pleasures thanks to him.

Cass couldn’t believe it. Had Peter worn down her resistance by subjecting her to the sound of his lovemaking until all the normal, proper boundaries had collapsed? There was no way she should be here.

Her heart was racing. Her lungs worked like a bellows.

“Peter, you… you shouldn’t ask me to come into your room at a time like this, dear… look at you and Honey… you’re… I shouldn’t be seeing her this way.”

“She wouldn’t mind,” Peter assured her. “And you need to come in now because, well, I don’t know what to do.”

“Don’t know what to do?” Cass guffawed. The notion was ridiculous. Clearly, Peter had treated Honey to a virtuoso performance. What did he need to ask her? He’d had more action in the last few weeks than she’d had in the last few years.

“Yeah, I know what to do,” Peter demurred, tilting his head to the side. “All the foreplay and the… all that. It’s pretty easy to stimulate someone’s body that way, once you learn how to read their reactions. But afterward, the… romantic stuff. Cuddling and things. How do you…?”

“You’re asking me how to spoon with her?”

“Uh-huh! All that afteraction stuff that leaves the girl feeling nice. I don’t want Honey here to feel like just a warm hole. I want to let her know how much of a good time I had and that I care about her and stuff… it’s hard to say it out loud. All the spooning stuff seems easier, but I just… I’ve never really done it.”

“Never done it,” Cass repeated dubiously.

“There was this woman in leather back home—real ‘wham bam thank you ma’am’ type—as long as she came, she was happy. Most of the women I was intimate with were more or less along those lines… they just wanted a quickie with Spider-Man. I never knew them real well as Peter; not like I know Honey.”

And Gogo, a voice in Cass’s head reminded her, not that it was any of her business. Not until Peter now made it her business.

“So you never really stuck around to…”

“Uh, no. I was something of a—“

“Lothario.”

“Yeah. I suppose you’d call it that.”

“Man-whore.”

“But I don’t want to cut a swath through San Fransokyo. Honey is great. I want to, you know, make sure she’s satisfied.”

“Slut.”

Peter gave her a look that silenced her continued attempts to define him. He scooted to the edge of the bed, making more room beside Honey. “If you could just show me how you’d like to be touched afterward—I’m sure Honey wouldn’t mind.”

Cass was all but speechless. “Haven’t you tried just… putting your arms around her… holding her close?”

“It feels so awkward—I feel like such a creep. If you could please just show me… if I knew it was what she liked, even if it was just what I was doing before, it’d be such a big help!”

“I—I s-suppose,” Cass stammered. “It couldn’t be that bad… if I was just showing you… yes… nothing sexual, just… like I would with Hiro… I’d want Hiro to, to… I mean, a girl would want—I would want—“

“Go on,” Peter urged her, as if he could see through all the haltering thoughts Cass couldn’t make sense of, to what she wanted, and he gave her enough approval to let her off her self-imposed leash. “Show me.”

Cass lowered herself onto the bed with Honey. It really was no big deal. Nothing sexual about it. She and Honey were both women—not attracted to each other at all. Girls cuddled all the time. She had seen Honey and Gogo do it. This was no different.

It wasn’t even about Honey, really. It was for Peter’s benefit. He should be rewarded for wanting to focus on something as intangible as aftercare instead of simply orienting on sex, sex, sex like most guys.

Cass gathered Honey up in her arms, gently redirecting the woman so that she was no longer such a sprawl of satiated flesh, but more like a doll, fitted into Cass’s embrace. She felt the heat coming off Honey’s flushed skin, the sweat that seemed fresh and steamy still.

And then, as though it were somehow normal, Cass petted Honey’s soft flesh—showing Peter how women liked to be touched after the action was over, but before sleep made its way past their enjoyment.

It was much the same as cats or dogs, only women weren’t either of those things. They needed special treatment. Love and attention put into each stroke. But the way you petted a cat or dog was a good stroke. After all, a woman most wanted to know her man enjoyed touching her… the feel of silken skin… that she was more than just a warm opening, but a cornucopia of touches and sensations and desires, all of which fired his intrigue.

Honey sighed contentedly, wiggling into Cass’s holding of her, mewling as she took Cass’s loving little caresses and moved them by wrist to down at her lower belly, where the flesh was still stirring from how hard Peter had loved her.

“Oh goodness,” Cass trilled, feeling heat, real heat, blossoming off the flesh.

She knew it wasn’t Honey’s—it was Peter’s. The burn of him gone inside Honey, potent and liquid, claiming her sex in a way his cock alone never could.

“It looks like she wants to be petted there,” Peter observed.

“Yes, well, uh, yeah,” Cass babbled, unable to work out much of anything else to say. “For a lot of women, the cuddling can be an extension of the sex act. And what worked before, they want, well, a little more of. Like a cooldown. They don’t want it to stop all at once. They want it to slowly taper off. Until they’re done with it—the feeling, that is. After all, just because a man’s thing isn’t hard anymore, doesn’t mean the whole thing has to… well…”

“Finish?” Peter suggested.

“Yes! Exactly! That’s all the cuddling is, really. Just drawing things out so the woman can get the maximum enjoyment possible out of, uh, all that’s happened before…”