Consummate Your Vows update (Patreon)

Peter stood on the roof of the building, hidden in the shadow of a billboard, cupping his cell phone with one hand while his other hand began to stroke his growing hard-on. He could hardly believe that, on the other end of the phone, Mary Jane was mouthing obscenities into his ear. He’d always known she was a vixen—she was a redhead, after all, that was practically advertised—but somehow, he had always thought these kinds of phone calls always came from men.

Not that he was complaining. He really preferred it from Mary Jane.

He’d gotten the call from MJ just after swinging into action to stop the Rhino, and a quick victory had proven A. Rhino hadn’t gotten any smarter with age, B. he was shaking off the ring rust par excellence. 

He’d mentioned that up near the lab where Annie’s testing was being done, there was still an old billboard of Mary Jane, advertising some make-up or another. With how perfect her face was, it was hard to tell which feature the product was meant to improve. Revlon—those were the lipstick people, right? Her lips looked great…

He’d said just that to Mary Jane and she’d replied, apropos of practically nothing: “Do you want to fuck them?”

Peter really had put up a protest to having phone sex in costume, in public, on the roof of a building. He’d tried. But Mary Jane was very persuasive. And the skies had gotten a lot less crowded. As much as he might like to go back to worrying about Deadpool popping up for a team-up, that wasn’t an issue now. It was just him and Mary Jane and she wouldn’t stop saying things.

"Yeah, I'm having fun right now, tiger... picturing your big cock the way it looked when I sucked you off last," Mary Jane continued.

Her voice seemed to falter slightly. Peter strained to listen but now only the sounds of heavy breathing came over the receiver.

"Are you, uh… in the middle of something?" Peter asked in euphemistic disbelief.

"Yessss... talk to me, Peter. Say something sexy to me while I finger-fuck my hot little pussy," Mary Jane begged.

Peter gulped and thought of how to oblige her. For as big a mouth as he was accused of having, Peter’s conversational skills in the bedroom tended to consist of grunts and moans, both of which MJ relished. But if he could come up with something to say about things as ridiculous as, well, half his life, he could give Mary Jane something to work with…

“Give yourself another finger. I want you to keep putting fingers in your pussy until you can imagine that my big fat cock is there, and it's scorching hot and throbbing as I guide it into your hot, wet pussy. Now relax and spread that cunt, spread it wide for the huge, slick slab of cock that's going to plunge right up inside you."

"Oh, God, yesssss, tiger, I can almost feel it. I can see your cock! It's so gorgeous and big!" Mary Jane moaned.

Peter's own fantasy began to work overtime. He tried to visualize his beautiful wife finger-fucking herself while he talked to her.

"Oh, Peter!" she squealed suddenly.

He imagined her fingers stroking harder and harder up her cunt as her body grew taut, her pink tongue wetting her lips. He pictured her clit begging for touch with it engorgement, and he figured that by now it would be sticking lewdly out from her aroused cunt. He closed his eyes and stroked his cock as he imagined Mary Jane rubbing her clit with her fast-moving finger. He pictured her big, creamy tits softly swaying as she teased her hot young body.

"Keep... keep talking, Peter! I need it!" she begged.

"My big prick's fucking you hard now, baby. You're so fucking hot, you've got my shaft dripping with your juices. My balls are banging against your cunt, MJ, and I'm squeezing your big, swollen tits..." he groaned.

"Fuck me harder, Peter!" Mary Jane screamed.

She sounded as if she actually was being fed his cock. As he jerked his prick, stroking it from balls to head, he continued to talk dirty to her.

"Your cunt's hot, baby. It's so hot, it's seeping juice out all over your sheets. My cock's reaming you out. It's sawing against your clit. It's driving up that hot, red slit of yours so hard it's driving you wild! Your whole body's shaking..."

"Ohhh, yesss, Peter! Fuck it to me! Give me cock, cock, cock! Give me cock until it comes out of my mouth! Tear me up! Bite me! Scratch me! Fuck meeee!" she screamed.

Peter jacked harder, turned on by his own words and by his wife's excited response.

"Ohhhhhh!" she yelled.

He pounded harder on his cock, coming, watching the pearly cum jerking into the air. Then he heard only hard breathing which soon slackened off and eventually became normal. 

"That was great! First time I ever got hot enough to come over the phone!" Mary Jane murmured, "Mmmmm—just wish there was some way I had some of your cum to play with. Guess you’ll just have to make more for me."

Suddenly, Peter heard another girlish voice over the phone in the background, and then a series of excited giggles burst out.

"Who else is there with you, Mary Jane?" he asked, suddenly growing paranoid.

"No one," Mary Jane answered. "I was just watching something sexy.”

“It sounded like a woman.”

“Women are sexy,” Mary Jane replied. “What, do you think I have a friend over? Fingering herself at the same time I was?”

Peter’s cock began to harden again as he imagined two naked girls on the other side of the phone. “That would be something,” he said incredulously.

“Maybe that’s what we should’ve ‘talked’ about. I’m lying here in bed, naked, fucked, but you’re giving my cunt a break. You’re fucking one of my friends, and she’s coming so hard for you. You’re giving it to her hard, because once she can’t take anymore, then it’s my turn again. And you want to finish inside me so bad…”

“Jesus, MJ…”

“Then she licks it out of my cunt. I clean your cock with my mouth. There’s enough for all of us. And if you can’t get it up again, I’ll fuck her for you. If she hasn’t had all she can take from you. But I know how good you are. It’d take a real slut not to be satisfied by you, tiger.”

Fuck, he was hard again. Harder than he’d been the fucking first time. Groaning, Peter gripped his cock as if he were going to try and throttle it. “MJ? Can we, uh… go again?”

“Of course, Peter. You want me to tell you how you’re fucking her? How much she loves it?”

“Yeah.” Peter flushed. He wasn’t cheating on MJ, obviously. This wasn’t even happening, she was the one suggesting it, they weren’t even in the same room! But it still felt… taboo. In a good way. Like when he came home from a patrol and MJ told him to leave the mask on… he was pretty sure Annie had been conceived that way. It’d explain a lot…

“Peter,” Mary Jane said, faux serious. “Who are we having a threesome with? Who’s a big enough slut to take your cock over and over again?”

“Dealer’s choice,” Peter replied breathlessly. Sometimes he really found it hard to believe that this woman had married him. Then again, that was what made it interesting.

“No, Peter. I want you to say. C’mon. Who? Emma Frost? Kiera Knightley?”

“Felicia,” Peter blurted out. He couldn’t help it, God—that’d been the one fantasy, the only wet dream he ever had, the one thing sure to get him off when he was in the shower and he just had to pop. It was ridiculous, she and Mary Jane were totally incompatible, there were days when he thought they hated each other’s guts… but goddamn, he knew how fucking hot it would be.

There was a long silence on the other end and for a moment, Peter’s worry that he had offended MJ almost defeated his arousal.

Then he heard an explosive sigh. Had Mary Jane… come? Just from thinking about it?

“How are you going to fuck her? How are you going to fuck us?” Mary Jane demanded.

“I’m going to take her from behind—she loves that, MJ—and you’re going to sit in front of her, and she’ll eat you out. She’s so good with her tongue, MJ, you’ll love it. I’ll look for that smile you get when you’re about to come, and the better Felicia does, the harder I’ll fuck her…”

He vaguely seemed to recall that Mary Jane was going to say something, not have him spill out his almost shamefully vivid fantasies, but then she was talking, telling him not to come, not to give Felicia his seed, because she wanted a chance to show Felicia how to worship it.

She barely had a chance to describe how they’d suck him before he was coming again. But still, he kept playing her game, listening and speaking lustfully into the phone. The images Mary Jane conjured up were turning his spank bank into Fort Knox, and he couldn’t wait to get home and fuck her so hard that she’d wish Felicia really was there, just so there was somewhere else for his cum to go.

It was enough to make him forget all about that excited giggle he’d heard which sounded nothing at all like Mary Jane…

***

One day earlier…

Felicia Hardy hadn’t been over to the Parkers in quite some time, everything too awkward and neurotic between them. She had her own life to lead, and besides, she and Peter had never been friends. Allies, lovers, maybe even something more, but not the type to take a late lunch together and then watch a documentary. She wasn’t even the Black Cat anymore, and with Peter no longer Spider-Man, that hadn’t made them much to each other.

But after the Regent had gone out, there’d been riots, and they’d both found themselves containing them. And then, all the old feelings had come rushing back. Along with the old rivalry.

Felicia came to Mary Jane’s house wearing booty shorts under warm-up pants. They were tight to begin with, but the shorts crept up her ass, retreating from the lower curves of her buttocks to allow a scintillating glimpse of how the whole thing looked without paint. A sleeveless top hung off her in deference to her curves, the armholes practically down to the hem to show off her kinky bra inside. 

She knew MJ had said Peter wasn’t at home, but she also knew that it irritated Mary Jane how beautiful she was. Red was a supermodel, used to being the hottest woman in the room. And Felicia knew that Mary Jane had the Audrey Hepburn thing going, all classical beauty and scintillating smiles in her old age, and an okay ass—but she had a 34G cup size. Which did guys really care about?

Felicia parked her car around the corner, took off the long pants, and walked in the short ones to Mary Jane’s door. The stares were gratifying, letting her know the neighborhood wasn’t used to MJ putting on this kind of show. There’d probably be gossip. Felicia loved being gossip.

She knocked on Mary Jane’s door, disdainfully flicking her eyes away from the placard stating ‘The Parkers’ on its façade. “Betty? It’s Veronica. Mind if I come in?”

“It’s open,” Mary Jane replied from deep in the house. “And you may be Veronica, but I’m Cheryl Blossom.”

Felicia tried the door. It opened. Inside, the lights were off, but the curtains were open, letting in enough light to give the homey place a pleasing chiaroscuro that appealed to the woman’s feline nature. She always liked having a few shadows around.

Then one of the shadows moved.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Mary Jane said, stepping into the light—or taking some of the darkness with her. She wore what Felicia recognized as a tailored version of Peter’s old black suit, darkness hugging her supermodel tall frame, with a white emblem tattooing her front and back.

It was exceedingly snug, while resembling the shiny vinyl of Felicia’s catsuit… but far tighter, softer, and thinner. At least, that was the way it looked. It showed off both Mary Jane’s physique and her invulnerability to having her blood supply cut off. If it were any other color, Felicia thought she would’ve seen just what kind of underwear MJ wore. If any.

And Mary Jane looked to be an exceptional shape, with the same healthy, voluptuous athletic quality that Felicia possessed. It was crazy—she wasn’t modeling anymore, but she seemed to have the exact same youthful vigor. With a little muscle added on too, not just the molded flatness of her modeling career… which Felicia might’ve followed with a little interest. Hot was hot, after all.

She wore no mask, though. Her hair had darkened; it was now almost blood red, while her skin appeared paler, making her green eyes stand out like jewels in a platinum setting. That only made Mary Jane’s exotic beauty more shocking. 

For once, Felicia found herself hoping Peter and Mary Jane were in a very happy relationship. A woman like that should definitely not be going to waste in a loveless marriage. Or at least, a sexless one. Felicia found herself wondering if Mary Jane had gotten herself into this fantastic state since the Regent was deposed, or if she’d always been this way, all down the years. For a commitmentphobe like Peter Parker, it’d certainly take something to get a family started…

That thought, along with the general nostalgia the suit brought on, suddenly had Felicia transported back in time. She remembered how Peter had been in his own black suit, and especially how he’d been with her. Under that new, eerie mask, with its sharp whites imprisoned in seas of black, he’s been dark, determined, obsessive, predatory. More calm, more confidence, less neurosis and doubt… but it was still almost frightening, just how aggressive he could be. Almost like Doc Ock had taken over his cockpit, or something equally ridiculous like that.

But what’d kept it from being frightening was how tender he’d been with her. Or, no, not tender—not unless you counted how she felt after he was done with her—but the lust, the sheer intoxicating zeal he’d had for pleasuring her, demanding every sensation in her body when he was with her. It wasn’t love, maybe, but it wasn’t sex either. It was fucking. And she’d goddamn loved it.

“Are you coming?” Mary Jane asked, startling her out of her reverie.

“W-what?”

Mary Jane tilted her head toward the basement door. “Are you coming? Training room’s down there. I cleaned out Annie’s toys and everything.”

“Sure,” Felicia said. “Although you’re the married woman—I feel I should be asking you that.”

Mary Jane smiled at her. “You are the expert in… how it is when you’re both wearing costumes. You tell me.”

Felicia bit her lip, actually a little dispossessed by the direction the conversation had taken. Usually, Mary Jane responded to her jibes with irritated nonchalance, clearly being of the opinion that if she pretended Felicia ‘wasn’t worth it,’ Felicia might believe it. It wasn’t like her to take Felicia’s flirts, turn them around, and rub it in Felicia’s face.

Downstairs, the basement had been turned mainly into a storage area, with shelves and stacks of boxes lining the walls. On the far wall was a door leading through to Peter’s workshop; Felicia recognized the scent of his web-fluid formula coming from it. The majority of the floor was given over to a scruffy mat, where Mary Jane’s bare feet padded.

“Okay then,” she said. “Peter wanted you to teach me. Go on. Teach me.”

Felicia smiled. “Alrighty. Let’s start with how to take a punch.”

She aimed a tiny jab at Mary Jane’s face, intending only to take her down a peg with a smarting blow, but Mary Jane turned it aside with a swipe of her arm. Felicia tried again with her other hand, almost automatically, but MJ deflected it again.

In fact, with both Felicia’s fists having flown by MJ, Mary Jane grabbed Felicia’s crossed elbows and held her arms in place, smiling frostily.

“Trust me. I’ve had every supervillain from Anti-Venom to Zenobia try to kidnap me. I can take a fist.” And her hinting smile came again, freezing Felicia in place as Mary Jane tugged on her extended arms, twisted, and turned the whole thing into an impressive shoulder throw. Felicia barely landed on her feet. 

Sorry, Peter, but I’m going to have to scratch up wifey’s pretty face a little. Beginner’s luck was one thing, but Mary Jane had pushed it too far. Felicia didn’t know how many action movies the bitch had done, but she was too damn good, too damn smug, and she needed to be taken down a peg. Or twenty. After all, Peter wouldn’t want her going out on the street overconfident, getting herself killed because she thought she could thrash the Black Cat. Nope. No. Nuh-uh.

Facing Mary Jane again, Felicia feinted left, dashed right, then got her arms around Mary Jane’s neck in an MMA hold, clutching her wrists behind MJ’s neck. Pulling Mary Jane in, she drove her knee up, aiming it at Mary Jane’s bowed face. Time for a new nosejob, baby.

Instead, Mary Jane simply raised her hands and took the knee strikes in stride, blocking each with palms that were as impenetrable as brick walls. Felicia’s knees actually stung by the time Mary Jane stood, abruptly breaking Felicia’s hold, and stepped forward straight into Felicia’s space, the engagement zone that all of Felicia’s offense was designed to keep Mary Jane in.

Instead, their bodies simply pressed together. Felicia felt Mary Jane’s breasts, high and firm, push into her own, the nipples as hard as stone, burning into her own soft flesh like a weight set on a pillow. 

More than that, there was the heat. It was so much like when she was with Peter, when he wore black too, and it seemed he burnt hotter, burnt right through his suit, or that the suit itself possessed some soothing warmth that drew her body like she could sun herself just by embracing him.

She heard Peter’s voice: "Oh, you hot little whore! You sexy fucking cunt!" he’d wailed, jerking his hips tiredly. They went for so long that his thighs were raw and sore from constantly pounding underneath hers. 

The way he talked—she’d always known it was there, but that black suit gave him a license to let it out, stripped away some of the layers she knew were only holding him down and left something wonderful.

He’d fucked her right underneath the rooftop water tower, mask on, no skin exposed but the cock shining through his unzipped fly. She hadn’t even undone her costume. He’d ripped it open at the groin.

"I know it! I know it!" she’d groaned, gazing down at him as if never seeing him before. "I'm a whore! I love to fuck! I can't help it! I love to fuck and suck and take cocks up my ass! I love to eat cum! I love to suck cocks! I know it! I love it, I love cum! I love it up my cunt, in my mouth, up my ass, all over my face, everywhere! I can't get enough! I'll never get enough! Ohhh, fuck!"

He’d bucked up into her again and for the last time his prick throbbed, spasmed, and fired out its heavy load of cum. The jizz shot out to join all the other blots of semen that had already washed her, then oozed back down the pole of his cock with nowhere else to go. She was full by then. She was completely full of hot, sizzling spunk.

"What a whore! What a whore! What a whore!" he’d repeated, his hip movements slowing at last. He fucked his cock into her with easy, lazy strokes now that his balls were empty.

"So good! So good! I'll never get enough!" she’d whimpered, the pleasure still washing through her body. It would take her many minutes to come down, many minutes to return to normal. But after knowing what it could be like with him, she didn’t know if she’d ever be normal again.

Felicia threw herself back from Mary Jane, shocked by the intensity of the memory. Mary Jane was licking her lips, as if she’d somehow shared it with her. No. She was Peter’s wife. She had. And it was like she was bragging that that intensity, that domination, that whorish ecstasy hadn’t been Felicia’s alone, that she’d found her own way to draw it out of Peter’s noble, soft-hearted soul. That she was more than his wife. That she was his bitch.

“It’s no wonder you’re so obsessed with Peter,” Mary Jane said. “He likes to think he doesn’t know much about women, but he had your number. The strong, independent woman, Ms. One Night Stand, a boy in every port and a girl too… it’s all bullshit. Deep down, you want commitment. You want it so bad, you want to be tied to it. You want someone to love you as much as you love your shiny little thefts. You want someone to steal you.”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Felicia hissed. She circled her opponent, now intent on doing some damage, whether Peter liked it or not.

One arm reached tentatively for a hold while Mary Jane copied her wrestler’s crouch. “Married some girl, some piece, who’s gone half the time so you still have your precious freedom, but what you really wanted was what I have. You want him. All the time. As much as you can get. But you couldn’t let him in, not all the way. So you went for some pathetic imitation of what Peter and I have.”

Felicia kicked suddenly, spilling Mary Jane in stunned surprise to the mat and falling quickly across her wriggling body to spread-eagle her in instant near-victory.

"Dirty tricks!" screamed Mary Jane, grappling for an armhold and coming up with a handful of white hair which she instantly released.

"You want to learn your lesson? Fine!" Felicia hissed, grabbing an exposed arm and dragging MJ back from near escape.

"I’ve learned enough. Now I want to put it into practice." 

Mary Jane's hands planted boldly on two vulnerable breasts, fingers squeezing the firm flesh with just enough authority to instantly terrify Felicia. Almost like male castration anxiety, she was traumatized by any threat to her trademark globes. She gaped now in genuine fear at the clawlike femininity of the fingers clutching her tenderly ripe teats.

Mary Jane caught the alarm in the other's expression and capitalized instantly. Squeezing the tempestuous targets and letting two overstimulated nipples creep into view between her fingers, Mary Jane drove her guest back, almost ruthlessly deepening the arch till Felicia's long hair spilled in disarray on the mat behind her. Violent spasms were quivering through Felicia's straining body, telegraphing the arousal she couldn’t help but feel.

“I want you to be mine, Felicia. You can have Peter, you can have the night, but you’ll be mine. You, me, Peter… we can keep this city safe. We can keep him safe. But you have to admit you want it.”

Felicia looked through blurred eyes at the mingling of their bodies. Beautifully tapered legs entwined, breasts thrusting arrogantly toward each other's, hips rolling restlessly... and there, tapering off in maddening contradiction to the body holding it, a fierce black cock pointed angrily at Felicia’s sex.

"You want it?" demanded Mary Jane, forcing Felicia's shoulders closer to the mat. The cock moved, a girthy tentacle, gripping the waistband of Felicia’s shorts and tearing them away…

"What I want, I take!" Felicia writhed and wriggled and was almost free of Mary Jane's clasp when suddenly, shuddering violently, she wilted back against the mat, staring in paralyzed delight down the gapping between their bodies. Mary Jane's dildo had ramrodded into Felicia as if it’d been sucked in by the sheer power of her need.

"Oh God, Mary Jane... you... you're fucking me!"

A lock of crimson hair tumbled loosely, obscuring one eye, but the rest of her lovely hair was behind her shoulders, so nothing hid the boisterous femininity of Mary Jane as she hovered over the equally mesmerizing wonders of Felicia. Bold and fully in command, buried in the welcoming cleft of a panting slave, was the cock Mary Jane was wielding.

With steady commanding strokes, the dildo impaled its victim. Sleekly tapered legs crept around Mary Jane's hips and scissored at her waist. Arms circled her neck to draw her tight in fierce copulating embrace. Slow, steadily increasing rhythm of coitus. Low moans of mutual joy as the friction of the dildo excited Mary Jane's vulva and tortured Felicia's sex at the same time. The base of her fake cock ground mercilessly back against Mary Jane's pudendum, maddening her clit, and suddenly it was Mary Jane who found herself struggling to keep her climax from overwhelming her.

"Oh... ohhh, dear God, YES!" She humped wildly into the welcoming pussy, letting the spasms take her, knowing for the first time the way it is for a man when coital need overwhelms self-control.

In end-over-end climaxes, contorting and straining, breasts and hips mashing, arms and legs entwining in the fever to get at each other, the delectable pair let frenzy take them. Suddenly Felicia’s body stiffened and a shrill scream escaped her mouth. Orgasms, building inside her pussy, turned her into a shaking, quivering mass of tingling flesh.

Her screams choked out of her open mouth. “I—I want it! I need it!!” Her pussy, filled with cock, beat a steady rhythm around the thick shaft it was helplessly lubricating. “I’m coming all over it, MJ!”

Mary Jane’s face was flushed with passion. Her arms, on either side of her squealing lover’s head, held her above Felicia. She saw the lust and the pleasure etched in the thief’s contorted face.

“Cum, baby! Do it!”

“I am! I am!” Felicia cried.

With Felicia screaming and the pressure destroying her own clit, Mary Jane quickly followed her new prize into orgasm. “Me too, baby! Me too!” She plunged down, driving the cock deep as the first orgasm ripped through her empty cunt. “I’m coming, Felicia! Aghhhh!”

Knowing that Mary Jane was creaming too carried Felicia higher into a swirling world of orgasms and pleasure. Her inner muscles, greedy and wet, gripped the fake cock, milked it, hungry for the jizz that wouldn’t come. She jabbed up, slashing her body into her mistress’s.

"You're such a hot little slut, aren't you?" Mary Jane gasped, her face glistening with sweat. "You love cock, don't you? You love every inch of it, don't you?"

"Yes! Oh, yes! I love every fucking inch of it! Give it to me! Give me all of it! I need all your cock! I love it—love your cock so much!"

Boiling cream poured from Felicia’s tightly pulsing cunt. It flowed freely over the jabbing cock, coating it, greasing it for speed. Juices oozed out and ran down between her legs, forming a puddle on the floor.

Her ass hammered the ground. Her full tits quivered and shook. Garbling noises came from her throat. “So much cream…”

Mary Jane pounded her target with all the strength she possessed. Hot cream, burning inside her empty cunt, flowed from her passage. Her hips moved at blinding speed and her muscles pulsed, but there was nothing to grab. It only made her more excited.

Felicia’s head snapped from side to side, her quicksilver hair lashing over her face. Her hands now clung to Mary Jane’s tits. Her pussy, filled with quivering pleasure, bathed the fake cock. Her muscles milked it, wanting it to squirt inside her like Peter had done. She screamed.

"Uuunnngh! Uuunnngh!" she groaned, her tits lolling up and down. "Sooooo good! Sooooo fucking good! Your beautiful cock! I love it! I'm coming so good! Ohhh, fuck! Give it to me! Give it to me!"

Mary Jane’s hips became pistons and orgasms bombarded her. The pain from Felicia’s grabbing fingers added to her pleasure. Hard thrusts jabbed the fake cock deep and, as the same time, mangled her own clit. The sensations were exquisite.

"I'm going to! I'm going to give it to you! You hot little cunt! I'm going to fill you full of jism! You asked for it, you're going to get it! "

“No, wait!” Felicia said. “Hold it!” Her mind suddenly flashed to another time she and Peter had made love. And he’d shown his love for her by knowing she didn’t want flowers, didn’t want chocolates or Valentines… she’d wanted it rough and fast and hard. She’d wanted—“MJ, have you ever heard of a facial?”

Mary Jane smiled. She’d seen such things—on the computer only—and back then, she’d been young enough that the sight had both disgusted and strangely intrigued her. She hadn’t understood why people did such things. Now, she realized it was thrillingly obscene enough to demand being tried.

She pulled out of Felicia, grabbing her cock and jerking on it. “Spread yourself,” she ordered, gratified when Felicia reached down and pulled her wet, shaven cuntlips far apart. “Good girl…”

Mary Jane strained and finally a strong white stream surged into the air, splattering on Felicia’s open pussy. The cat burglar groaned as the pressure and heat stimulated her. The next lash fired harder, slashing up Felicia’s shirt on its way to her face, whipping over her nose like a sweaty lock of hair had fallen between her eyes. Some had hit Felicia’s lips. It tasted off, flavorless instead of musky, with a sweet aftertaste.

"My clit!" she cried. "Hit my clit!" Mary Jane directed the hot liquid against Felicia’s trembling clit. Watching her womanly hips swivel and her oversized tits swing and jump while she came into Felicia’s exposed cunt was enough to blow MJ's mind. She lowered herself to Felicia’s body again, this time offering her cum directly between Felicia’s legs/

Felicia’s hips moved rapidly. Her pussy crammed with the hard cock, overflowed with her liquid pleasure. Her ass cheeks slapped at the ground. Each upward lunge made her cunt squish and her mistress scream.

The two women pounded at each other. Their bodies, sweaty with passion, slapped wetly each time their flesh fused together. Mary Jane’s tits swung like heavy weights. Felicia’s jiggled, the nipples sore, ready to burst. Faster and faster they lunged at each other, their screams filling the basement, turning their conjoined bodies into a furnace of lust.

Felicia’s legs stiffened, then wrapped around Mary Jane’s jabbing hips, locking. She pulled her lover down, crushing herself beneath her. A low moan gasped from her mouth. “MJ!”

Mary Jane grunted, but her hips kept the pace. She found her Felicia’s mouth and kissed her.

Slowly, both perspiring bodies slowed, then stopped. It was over and they were, for the moment, sated. 

Had it been five minutes... thirty... an hour? Whenever it was, they lay spent and panting lightly for air as they stretched exhausted on their backs. It was Felicia who finally moved. Rolling onto her tummy and hunching to rest her weight on her elbows, she looked down at her playmate. 

"You wrestle very well," she said softly, leaning to press a kiss on Mary Jane's cheek. "If you didn't give me a baby, it wasn't your fault!"

***

Afterward, Mary Jane played Suzy Homemaker. She got Felicia a robe to replace her shredded and soiled clothing, fixed them tea to replenish their weakened bodies. It was funny to see how quickly Felicia’s frenetic lust turned to soothed relaxation. Like the sex had centered her, vented her adrenaline, left only the serenity found under all the bitchiness and posturing. 

Mary Jane enjoyed sitting down and relaxing with her, a CD playing in the background, a quick meal there for their refreshment, the birds chirping outside and the light from the windows stretching across the floor.

“You have a symbiote,” Felicia said.

“Yes,” Mary Jane replied. “I have the symbiote.”

“Venom?” Felicia pressed, almost spitting out her tea. She set the cup down on its saucer. “Goddamn, Mary Jane…”

“I can control it. Flash controlled it, remember?”

“Peter and Eddie couldn’t. And there’ve been others, they couldn’t handle it either…”

“Eddie,” Mary Jane said viciously, “was a psychopath. And Peter, I love him, but he has anger issues. He controls it, but it’s there, and the symbiote brought it out. I’m not like that.”

“You’d be surprised,” Felicia replied.

Mary Jane bit the inside of her cheek. It wasn’t like Felicia was saying anything she hadn’t thought. Venom had threatened her, threatened her family—she took no small pleasure in being able to comfort Peter that killing that monster had been a hundred percent the right thing to do. And if they were still in their twenties, if there had never been a Regent, if Annie wasn’t born yet, she’d probably agree with Felicia’s implicit line of thought. The thing would have to go.

But she knew people. The Regent was a monster, but he’d been a big monster in a little pond. Without him, all the little monsters—the freaks, the bank robbers, the crazies—they were declaring it open season. It hadn’t started yet, not with the Regent’s presence still felt, but soon, they’d realize nothing was really holding them back. And then, Peter would need all the help he could get. From her, from Felicia—from anyone else Mary Jane could recruit.

Even from the symbiote.

“Do you think Peter won’t need the help?” Mary Jane asked, and Felicia ducked her head, conceding the point.

“That doesn’t explain fucking me.” Felicia laughed. “God, that wasn’t a dildo, that was—wow, that really is a new one for me.”

“Fun?” Mary Jane asked.

“Eh. Peter’s better.”

“That might be nostalgia talking,” Mary Jane replied, a little bent out of shape.

“Why? Has he not been getting the job done? Is that why you fucked me?”

“He’ll be home in a few days. I think he’ll answer your question then. Most satisfactorily.”

Felicia picked her cup of tea back up and leaned back in her chair. “So… just for fun?”

“That, and I don’t want this… team mixed up with some bullshit love triangle. If you want him, have him. There’s more than enough to go around. Obviously, I’m not giving myself much room to complain.”

“There has always been a little chemistry between us, hasn’t there?” Felicia mused. “All that fighting over Peter… it wouldn’t be so much fun if we weren’t neck and neck.”

Mary Jane conceded the point with a brisk nod of her head. “It’s like perfume. All the best ones have a bit of tartness in their scent, to catch your attention—they actually smell bad. But then they’re so nice.”

“Is that your way of referring to me and Spider having sex?”

Mary Jane shrugged her shoulders. “It’s always been an interesting thought. I’m just beginning to realize how interesting.”

“Mmmm… Cheryl Blossom used to get off thinking about her husband with another woman.” Felicia grinned. “This is making my whole trip worth its while.”

“You know, the Spartans used to send lovers into battle together,” Mary Jane said. “It was thought to increase their bond. Make them more effective as a team.”

Felicia’s eyes widened. “So you’d want… more?”

“If you can think of anyone who’s interested.”

“I’m having a hard time thinking of people who wouldn’t be interested.” Felicia sipped her tea. “In Peter, I mean.”

“Of course.”

“They might like one of the dresses from your boutique or something. You could give them a discount.”

“I don’t know. It’d be weird seeing you in fashionable clothes.”

“I’d kick your ass, but I’m not sure you have it in you to fuck me again.” Felicia gestured to her. “Who knows where that thing’s balls are…”

“It’s more like the web fluid the symbiote generates,” Mary Jane said. “It’s a sort of lube, salve, mild aphrodisiac—thing. It’s actually very healthy. If I could find a way to turn it into a diet…”

Felicia held up a hand. “I think the less I know about it, the more comfortable I am with having it all over my face.”

“Right, I forgot, you dated Peter when you didn’t know his identity.”

“Speaking of, if you don’t want a bunch of thinkpieces written about how you’re normalizing cannibalism, you might want to change up the costume.”

Mary Jane looked down at the black suit and white emblem. It was one of those things she wasn’t comfortable with—she’d made Peter throw away a costume that looked just like this one because it was too much like the horrible creature that’d attacked her. And if the symbiote could look like anything, she certainly could wear Peter’s colors. She liked that thought.

“I’ll make sure to come up with something before my big debut. What about you?”

“Oh, basic black, all the way.” Felicia caressed the vee of her robe as if touching the fur lining on her old costume. “I’ve experimented with enough ‘new looks’ to know you shouldn’t mess with a classic. Peter’s surprisingly fashion-forward there.”

“Yes,” Mary Jane agreed, momentarily thinking how odd it was that she was talking fashion with the Black Cat. “How do you improve on perfection? Make the spider on his chest glow?”

“Exactly.” Felicia leaned forward. “But don’t just put yourself in a version of his costume. That’d be so boring. You’re better than that.”

Mary Jane flushed in genuine appreciation. “Thanks.”

“If you want,” Felicia said, “I could help you pick out a new look. You have to admit, they may not all have been winners, but I’ve never been afraid of boldness. And Sable… oh my God, Sable…”

“What?” Mary Jane asked. “I thought the two of you were, you know… open-ended.”

Felicia stood up, animated by a sudden surge of energy. “Oh, absolutely, but I don’t want her missing out on this. I’ve been telling her about how good Peter is for ages.”

“You have?”

Felicia was pacing. “I had to for the role-play to work… anyway, she’ll want in. And I’m not in unless she’s in.”

“Of course,” Mary Jane said. “But you’re sure she’d be interested in fighting crime? I thought she was a mercenary.”

“Occasionally,” Felicia agreed. “But I know just how we can pay her…”

It was then that the phone rang. Mary Jane held up her forefinger, gesturing for Felicia to hold that thought, and answered it.

“Oh hi, Peter, I was waiting for your call.”