Gwen Stacy Syndrome

She licked the side of Felicia's face as the cat burglar bobbed her head ever faster on Peter's cock. It was too much. All too much. Peter closed his eyes, trying to block out the erotic sight so he could last just a few more seconds, but he could still hear Mary Jane's sultry voice coming his way. "Fuck her mouth, tiger."

Then once more she lowered herself to his testicles, this time taking both between her lips. The gamer in her laughed, thinking back to the gaming session that had started all this—back then, she might've resented being teabagged.

And there, Peter lost all control. His hips rolled like the sea in a hurricane, shoving himself into Felicia's loving mouth. Mary Jane cupped Felicia's skull in her hand to hold her head still for Peter to fuck, unthinkingly holding her as Peter would if his hands were free. Equally automatically, their hands roved up Peter's body, Felicia digging her nails into his chest as Mary Jane sensually rubbed her free hand between Felicia's.

No one could've expected Peter to last any longer. "I can't hold it!" he cried, as if that wasn't exactly what they wanted.

"Mmph mmf mmm mmp!" Mary Jane said.

"What?"

Reluctantly, Mary Jane slurped her way off his testicles. "Don't! Cover us in cum! You're the only who gets to, from now on!" And she dove back down to feel his balls pulse as they emptied, shooting what felt like galloons of cum into Felicia's wanting mouth. With a superhuman effort, he forced his eyes open against the intensity of his orgasm to take in the heavenly sight before him. Felicia swallowed almost everything he gave her, though rivulets of his seed spilled out the side of her mouth. But even she couldn't take all of it, and Felicia pulled back to let Mary Jane have her share, the redhead prostrating herself before Peter, mouth open and chest outthrust.

Felicia watched with pride as Peter came all over MJ's face, covering it in ropes of cum, and as his erection flagged, painting white the red and blue fabric that snugly covered her ample chest. Even then, a small puddle of his ejaculate dribbled from his exhausted cock, landing unnoticed on the floor. Both women had already had more than enough.

"The only one who gets to," Mary Jane repeated, staring up at Peter with loving satisfaction, just as Felicia was.

After a huge swallow, Felicia said "Unless we meet Benedict Cumberbatch."

"Yes, unless that."

Peter shook his head as his cock shriveled to something like normal size; though if either woman had touched it, they would've found it still as stiff as mahogany. "What is it with that guy?"

"How much time do you have?" MJ asked.

"Lots," Felicia answered for him. "He clearly doesn't spend enough time masturbating."

"Sorry if I like beating crime more than beating my—" He instinctively tried to gesture, but found his hands still restrained. "Hey, can you cut me loose already? If I'm your co-boyfriend now or whatever?"

"I don't know," Mary Jane said. "I have always believed in keeping my bfs on a tight leash. Plus, aren't those webs as strong as steel?"

"About as strong as steel, yeah," Felicia agreed. "Besides, you're all tuckered out now, so what would be the point?"

"Can I at least get a chair?"

"We will give you a chair."

Felicia picked up the discarded webshooter, shot a line to a chair across the room, and dragged it over to them while Mary Jane wiped at her face. "This must be what a salad feels like after it gets the ranch dressing."

Felicia knocked over a lamp. "Oops." She pulled the chair into her hands and set it below Peter. "There ya go."

He collapsed gratefully. "Thanks."

"Now then," like she was snitching frosting from a cake, Felicia ran her finger over Mary Jane's cheek and popped it into her mouth, "since Peter is out of commission, how about the two of us pick up where we left off? But not on the floor—my back has enough problems with these double-Ds."

Mary Jane patted Peter's leg, expression sanguine as Felicia licked her cheek. "Hey Peter, mind if we use your bed?"

"Yeah. Sure." He glanced at the flecks of white on Mary Jane's chest as she stood. "Hey, put that in the wash first, will ya? People will talk if I show up to that fight with Galactus looking like I really, really needed an acting gig."

Felicia gave him a playful little kick. "Pig. Don't you know I handle all that for good ol' MJ?" She bent to lick at Mary Jane's breast, cleaning the costume of Peter's semen, just as he'd requested.

"Mmmm. Bed's in the other room."

"Couch is right here. Peter, mind if we use your couch?"

"Be my guest," Peter said distantly.

Felicia shucked off her costume, leaving her in just her boots, her gloves, and the strap-on that Peter had recently dwarfed. "Thanks, Spider. And try to pay attention. This is how MJ likes being fucked."

Peter looked on as the two tumbled onto his couch. Every so often the ladies cast looks his way as they kissed and felt each other.

He wondered if his landlord would mind two—tiny—holes in the wall...