Eighteen. He was so young. And he was already head first into the business. She felt bad, certainly, but he was also capable. He had his web shooters, and his spider instincts, and fighting skills that almost rivaled hers.

Almost.

So, they trained.

And she got pissed off.

"For the last time Peter, you remember what happened with the lizard, right? You didn't have your web shooters. Therefore, you cannot use them to pin me to the wall. That's not the point of this training!"

She tugged uselessly at her hands pinned above her head, staring Peter down until he sighed, tugging off the shooters.

"I'm sorry. It's like instinct."

"Uh huh." she stated dryly. Attempting to pull her arms free, arching her back and pulling with all her might. No go. This webbing was made of stronger stuff then she could beat. "Peter..." she trailed off, following his eyes to her still arched back, her breasts. "Peter." she snapped.

The teenager jumped, eyes, dilated pupils and all, flashing to her face before moving to her hands. "R-right. Sorry." He moved forward to help her pull the webbing away, pressing against her body in the process. She inhaled sharply at the hard heat she felt against the front of her leg and Peter squeaked, jumping back. "Sorry! I'm sorry..."

Natasha had forgotten what it was like to be that young. To have a libido like that. She may only look a few years older than him, but that was just looks. It said nothing for the years she had lived.

"It's okay." she blinked out of her thoughts, eyes trailing down her body to rest on the tent in his sweats. She continued to stare until his hands moved down to cover himself.

"Sorry." he repeated weakly.

"It's okay. I still need..." she glanced up at her mostly webbed hands, knowing he got the picture when his body was pressed against hers again. She inhaled slowly, debating with herself for a moment.

Natasha leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his adam's apple and hearing the hitch in his breath. His hands stopped their movement above her. She stopped her movement at his neck.

"Natasha?"

In response, she leaned forward again, pressing kisses along his neck and over his jaw. Peter whimpered, hands moving down her arms, down her shoulders, lightly over her breasts, down to her hips.

She moved quickly, jumping and wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer. Peter groaned as she rut against him, arms still restrained over her head, forcing her breasts up as her back arched.

Peter hesitated briefly, before pressing his lips against her exposed upper chest. One hand slid up her side, resting on the zipper of her catsuit, just resting there as he continued to slide his lips over her chest.

"Go." she commanded hoarsely. Peter pulled back slightly, her legs around his waist keeping him close. After a few seconds, he forced her legs down, off of him to finish taking her catsuit off. Then he paused, staring at her mostly naked body, only a small pair of panties covering her. "Peter..." she nearly whined, spotting the bulge in his sweatpants again.

Peter exhaled quickly, pulling his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside, before stepping closer to her again. She kicked him back, staring pointedly at his sweatpants. He blushed, even as he slid them down his legs, kicking them off. She groaned as more of his sweat slicked body came into view.

"Everything off." she demanded, rubbing her legs together to attempt to get some much needed friction. Peter's blush intensified, even as he hooked his thumbs in his boxers, pulling them down. She whined as his hard cock came into view. He shuffled awkwardly a few feet away from her and she arched her back, noting as his eyes shot to her breasts again. "Peter, come here."

He moved forward and she immediately hooked her legs around her waist again. She ground against him and he groaned, head dropping down to her chest. She gasped in surprise as she felt his wet mouth around one of her nipples. Soon, his other hand slid up to palm her other breast.

"Peter, come on..." she keened, arms stretching uncomfortably as she pressed their chests together. He whimpered slightly, tugging on her underwear. "Rip them." she snapped, suddenly impatient as she ground against him again. Peter groaned, tugging sharply and tossing the scrap of fabric away.

"H-how should I prep-"

"Don't, just go." she begged, rutting against him. Peter's hands dropped to her hips and he pressed slowly into her. Natasha jerked, whining as she tightened her legs, heels digging into the small of his back. Peter groaned, breath fanning over Natasha's neck as he got accustomed to the wet, tight heat surrounding him. After a few moments of silence excluding their heavy breathing, Natasha tightened around him, a silent urging for him to move.

Peter pulled out before quickly pressing back in. He pressed his hands against her still raised arm, using that as leverage as he pumped into her. Natasha squirmed, attempting to pull him even closer with her legs, but of course, failing. Peter's panting breaths in her ear made her whimper and the slap of his abs against her stomach with every thrust brought a lovely burst of pleasure down to her groin. The uncomfortable pull of her arms above her head, webbing still tight, simply added a slight twist of pain to the pleasure.

"Natasha..." Peter muttered into her ear and Natasha whimpered back, feeling his thrusts beginning to grow erratic. One hand slid down her body, moving lightly across her breasts. The rough pad of his thumb slid over her nipple and she gasped, back arching again. He whined, long and loud as his thrusts slowed. He bit her shoulder, hard, as he came deep inside her.

Natasha gasped again, that finally burst of pain-pleasure sending her over the edge as well, body jerking. After a few moments, she shuddered as he pulled out of her, both oversensitive. They panted in silence. She dropped her legs from around his waist and glanced up.

"Think you could let me out of your web now?"