Harry Osborne was one rich motherfucker. Ever since his father had created the company, "Oscorpe", the stocks had skyrocketed, and Harry wanted for nothing. That was, until he got a hearty craving for some fresh hot pussy!
"Dad, when can I fuck one?" whined the James Franco Harry with a stomp of his foot. He was ready! He was eager.
"Son, what have I told you about badgering?" his stern father, Norman Osborne, responded in a dangerously quiet tone. He fixed his flesh and blood with a stern eye, breaking down any resistance.
"Sorry, papa…" Harry apologized in a mumble. He turned with a huff and went back into the depths of his bedroom, where the sounds of bass-boosted Jurassic World "Blue" porn could be heard.
It just wasn't fair, thought Harry. He should be allowed to fuck who he wants, when he wants!
While he sat there mellowing in his own misery (and cum), a sudden thought occurred to him. There WAS a way to get his fresh hot pussy. And get it he would.
Harry waited anxiously at the downtown Manhattan coffee shop, twirling his spoon absentmindedly in his mug. His contact should be here soon. He was on the edge of anticipation overload.
Then, just as Harry suspected, the door clinked open and the bespectacled form of Penis Parker walked in, a nerdy grin on his doughy face.
"Hiya Harry!" Peter said with a wave of his hand. Harry smiled and beckoned for him to join the table.
"Hey Pete!" Harry said, finally glad that something was going his way. "How ya doin?" Without waiting for an answer, Harry delved deep into why he had summoned him here.
"Listen, Pete, remember when we were in the seventh grade and you told me you knew all about the female reproductive system?"
Peter's smile faltered a bit, his eyebrows clenched together in a frown.
"Of course, Harry, but what does that have to do with-"
"Peter, didn't you ever realize that Aunt May has one of those very same reproductive systems!"
For a moment Peter said nothing. Then, a look of incredibly epiphany blazed onto his visage.
"Good god, Harry, how could I have been so stupid?"
Harry sighed. "We were all deceived, Pete. But now is the time to act."
Peter looked down at his shoes and slumped his shoulders.
"Yes, I suppose you're right...eight o'clock tonight, then? That's usually when she goes to sleep."
Harry grinned a wide grin. "That's perfect, Pete. Thank you. Thank you."
At seven thirty that night Harry was all dressed and ready to go. He wore some loose fitting pants made for comfortability and mobility. A jet black sweater covered his torso while an equally dark ski-mask hid his otherwise James Franco features. It was time.
Being as quiet as he could as to not disturb his father, Harry tiptoed down towards the entrance hall. Time was of the essence.
A sudden noise to his left caught his attention, but it was just his dad talking to some masks. Harry continued onwards, slipping out of the door and into the crisp clear air of New York.
A holler of a taxi brought Harry directly to Aunt May's and the late Uncle Ben's small house located on the edge of Manhattan. Harry's eyes strayed to the window that must certainly belong to Aunt May. He cracked a smile under the mask.
Walked carefully up the front steps, he turned over the mat where Peter said the spare key would be. He found it along with a note which read Be safe ;) - Pete.
Harry almost chuckled out loud. Peter was such a good guy.
He slipped the key in and turned with the utmost care. At his lightest push, the front door creaked open, and Harry was in.
He turned as quiet as he could and walked slowly up the stairs leading to where Peter had told him Aunt May's bedroom was located. He pressed an alert ear against the door. Good. No noise.
With his eyes closed in a silent prayer, Harry turned the handle and stepped inside.
"SURPRISE!"
Harry blinked in surprise, the sudden light blinding him through his ski-mask.
Inside the room was found to be Peter, a naked Aunt May herself, Mary Jane, and Harry's own father Norman. They were all smiling and nodding at the flustered Harry, who had just noticed the large "Happy Birthday" cake emblazoned in the middle of the room, candles burning, just waiting to be blown out.
Harry was shocked for a further moment before descending into unapologetic tears, thankful for such great friends. As Aunt May cut the cake with her rock-hard nipples, and Peter and MJ had coitus in the corner of the room, Harry truly felt as though he was worth something.
