God, this Tabitha bitch is sexy. Wonder who the hell she is, Kaine thought, barely bothering to keep his eyes off her huge breasts, her curving ass. He hadn't seen such luscious tits in a while, and his mouth watered at the thought of sucking on them until the nipples were throbbing in his mouth, hot and hard.
Alone in an empty room, off the beaten path of the Avengers Mansion tour, Tabitha's hands rose to the back of her head. They raised her long, silky locks and tossed them sensuously back from her grasp, the motion enticingly making her breasts rise toward Kaine.
Almost involuntarily, Kaine's hands rose to fit each palm to the firm flesh of her cleavage, giving both teats a hard squeeze. Just the feel of her breasts, even through her clothes, made his cock jerk impatiently.
Good tits, he thought feverishly, just like new-picked melons. He could hardly wait to get her naked and moaning on the room's big bed.
"It's hot in here," Tabitha said, sitting down on the bed, throwing herself into the mattress so her tits bobbed once more.
Kaine casually reached over and opened a window. Tabitha purred as she felt the stimulating caress of night air entering the room on a slight breeze. She wanted to fuck out there, right out in the open. It was one of her sexual fantasies and tonight was as good a time as any to realize it.
"I'm still hot," Tabitha said, and went to the patio door, letting a shoulder strap slip down as she did, so that while she opened the door, her dress was purring down her chest.
She walked outside.
Kaine was right behind her.
"Fuck my mouth with your tongue," she whispered huskily, turning around, his mouth already reaching to hers.
Kaine enclosed her in his arms and planted his mouth firmly against her, feeling her lips tremble before they were totally crushed against his. He was startled by the ardor with which Tabitha's small, searching tongue darted into his mouth. It returned his kiss before he could really begin it. And she was thrusting her lush body against him, her belly grinding invitingly against his hardening cock, her breasts cushioning themselves against his chest.
A low groan sounded hoarsely in her throat and then developed into a louder whimper as he reached down to massage roughly at one round asscheek. I've never seen anyone so hot, not even a cat in heat, Kaine thought as his mouth worked feverishly to keep up with hers.
It was only with difficulty that he managed to draw his mouth back. "C'mon. Let's go to bed."
Her lust-heavy eyes were directed right back at his hungry leer. "No. Right here. Right now. Fuck me in the Avengers' back-fucking-yard."
Kaine's mind was lost in erotic imaginings of that, and it took him a moment to realize… well, half realize… the implications. But then Tabitha's lips were cresting his, one hand grasping his wrist and leading it to the warm swell of her sex. As her tongue ran hotly between his lips, one hand pulled up her dress while the other encouraged his hand to the space she'd opened for him.
Kaine was ready to argue with the horny blonde, when his attention was arrested by the fact that she was wearing no panties under her dress.
What a whore, he thought excitedly, shaking that ass in every direction and all the time she's naked under that dress. Looks like she's really gagging for it. Well, she's come to the right man. If I can just get back the fuck inside…
But Kaine was in no rush as his forefinger explored the soft, sparse fur of her pubic hair, finding its way to the top of her slit and into contact with the already moistened nub of her clit. His fingertip prodded and circled the firm bud, while his mouth melded hotly with hers.
How she wanted to fuck! Intensely, animalistically, right there under the stars. She wanted this goddamn rutting like she hadn't wanted anything in a long time.
"Aaagghh!" she moaned suddenly as Kaine's finger traced over her G-spot, deep inside her quivering cunt. "Oh yes! Yes, that's it," she cooed into his shoulder as she ground her sex down to meet his thrusting finger, her senses flaring with lust. "Fingerfuck me, hoss. Do it to me right here! I need it so bad, Peter!"
Her hands roved curiously over his ass as she spread her legs a little wider and thrust herself against the palm of his hand, her pussy rhythmically swallowing the maddening intrusion of his finger. She reached up to kiss him once again, sucking hungrily on his tongue, and it jabbed out to meet her, just as his finger was between her thighs.
Tabitha felt uncontrollable waves of excitement wash over her. Her need for his cock was building furiously. She thought she might even be able to come before he was inside her. She didn't think she could hold out that long, though.
She wanted something longer and harder and thicker than a finger up inside her. Her whole world had become that rousing sensation inside her, and the skewering tongue ramming in and out between her lips.
Kaine had almost forgotten his reservations in the sheer eroticism of what was happening right now on this deserted lawn. He was holding the wildest creature he had ever encountered, ramming his tongue down her throat and his finger up her pussy. He was also beginning to think she would go right out of her mind if she couldn't grind and churn her mound against his hand. He gripped her firmly around the shoulder, wanting to be ready for her reaction to the second finger he put inside her.
Tabitha's second finger was easily as intense as Kaine had expected. She began humping his hand more feverishly, rising up on tiptoes just to shove her sex down ever hander onto his fingers.
"Oh, God, yes, yes!" she cried, her head thrown back, her mouth abandoning Kaine's lips as her whole being concentrated on the climax that was building deep inside her. "Do it, Peter! Shove your fingers up my cunt! My pussy feels so wonderful! Just another minute and I'll—"
Tabitha's whole body froze as those wonderful fingers suddenly abandoned her cunt completely. Kaine wrapped his arms around her and stood very still, his body rigid with alert intensity.
"Fuck! What did you stop for?" Tabitha wailed. "You bastard! I was just about to—"
Her words were stifled by Kaine's hand firmly covered her mouth. It tasted of her own cunt. She was held tightly and couldn't get free, much as she struggled against his grip. Frustrated in her struggles, she held still to catch her breath, and it was only then she heard a voice calling out.
"Peter? Peter? Are you out here?"
Kaine pushed Tabitha off to the side and quickly stepped back inside the room, sliding the glass door shut behind him just as Angelica opened the inside door. "Peter, hi, there you are."
"Here I am," Kaine replied, trying to grin in the cheesy way he thought Peter might.
"Guess I kinda left some things unsaid." Angelica laughed nervously. "Took a little nap." And vomited, she chose not to share. "But I think my body's gone down one from one too many."
"Good place to be," Kaine said noncommittally.
"And not that I expect you to find me charming or anything right this moment…" Angelica brushed some glass clippings off herself. "But I don't want us to go another couple years without… talking. And I know how crazy things get, so I really want a firm, no-bullshit commitment. So maybe, when you're back from your honeymoon, we could get lunch?"
"I'd love to," Kaine said quickly. Anything to get her to fuck off so he could get back to Tabitha.
"That's great!" Angelica enthused. "I'll shoot you an e-mail or, uh, something. Or maybe I could come over sometime? Or you could come over? You always did love my cooking."
"Anytime," Kaine agreed. "Morning, noon, or night."
Angelica giggled to herself and nodded. "Wow, I didn't know you were so… gung-ho. I'm not going to spoil this. I'm gonna go. But you'll be hearing from me. Not from beer, from me."
"Great," Kaine said, and Angelica departed, only stumbling slightly.
He hurried back out the door as soon as she was gone. Tabitha's whole body was trembling with the violence of her frustrated orgasm, coupled with her annoyance at her treatment.
"What the fuck was that?" she growled through clenched teeth, her gaze directed unswervingly at Kaine.
"What was I supposed to do? Put on a show and pass my hat around afterward? She nearly got an eyeful as it was."
"So the fuck what?" Tabitha demanded. "Everyone knows Avengers Mansion was a virtual whorehouse. We're just living up to its reputation."
Kaine stared at her hard for a moment. "I'm a married man, Tabby. Fun's fun, but I can't just soil my reputation. That wouldn't be fair to… anyone."
Tabitha replied in a voice that was hard and flat. "You'd better fuck me right now, and twice as hard as before, or Imma kick your reputation's ass!"
Kaine crossed his arms. "I'm not sure I'm in the mood. And if you think you're the only way I can get off, you should know it's a seller's market."
"Then how 'bout I tell your wives how you basted me like a turkey on their wedding night?"
"Go ahead," Kaine challenged. "Not my problem."
"Oh, they'll make it your problem." Tabitha stalked off to find the Parkers, feeling hurt and frustrated and horny as hell. Why didn't she ever come across anyone who just wanted to fuck her? They were all either Tony Stark or Captain America. There was no happy medium.
I don't want to even look at another man! She told herself angrily. But the nagging itch inside her said differently.
Peter came awake with morning wood that could've belonged to an old-growth forest. He'd napped more than slept, had a waking wet dream that might've just been what he'd been doing with MJ and Felicia before he passed out. But as he rose, he saw that both his wives were practically comatose.
He felt a need for sex that bordered on mania. He almost could've fucked one of them awake, but it seemed churlish when he had three women to please. Whose turn had it been? Ana's?
It occurred to him how Ana's herbal Viagra had really done a number on him. Perhaps his self-restraint, his innate affinity for the limits of how much his partner could take and when she was fully satisfied, had dictated his sex drive. Physically, could he fuck every bit as long as he could fight?
Even swinging around the city on patrol was physically arduous, comparatively. So why should sex, especially sex when he restrained himself to keep from harming his lover, wear him down?
Maybe it was just that he felt lucky to have any amount of success with the ladies. In high school, he would've considered himself fortunate to look at a beauty like Felicia or Mary Jane with her clothes on, let alone off, let alone being able to touch them. So now he was overwhelmed by a few orgasms with his partner, attuning his stamina to theirs. And Ana's incense had removed that limit, taken him to the true potential of his physique.
If I'm not careful, he thought, I could spend entire days in bed…
He quietly decided it was best not to overindulge in the incense. But, while it was still working, there was no reason not to put it to good use. After carefully pulling the sheets over MJ and Felicia to ensure their comfort, he went in search of Ana.
It was definitely her turn.
Rogue wasn't tired. She was wired.
She felt deliciously naughty looking through the one-way mirror. Ana Kravinoff stood right in front of it, smiling, obviously pleased by her reflection. Rogue stood just as close on the other side. She was already breathing hard in hopeful anticipation, fogging up the glass.
Peter had come out of Felicia's room. Ana turned to face him, leaning back against the glass. Rogue could still see Peter over her shoulder. And, looking down, she could see Ana reach to her cunt. She stared at them both in fascination, looking at them as they looked at each other.
There was no glass between them.
She licked her open lips in envy.
Peter's cock was angled up, stiff and swollen and shining with someone's saliva, even if his balls hung slack under it. Ana licked her lips as she eyed it.
"What do you want to do?" Peter asked her. "In your room…"
"Not my room," Ana said. "Here. And I want to devour you." Then, with an impish grin, she added, "I like you, master. I like your big cock."
That cock responded with a lurch. His potent young balls were already filling again.
I really shouldn't watch this, Rogue told herself, but by now, she knew damned well that she would.
"Want me to take your prick in my mouth, master?" Ana whispered. "Shall I milk you off and swallow all of your hot cum?"
The huntress knew that her wet lips twisting and dancing before his eyes was arousing him almost as much as her words were. Her prey shuffled closer to her, gripping his cock. She turned away playfully, teasing him by pretending that she had changed her mind. But Rogue could see on her face that she wanted it. So could Peter, when he looked in the mirror.
"Suck it, Ana." It was not quite a plea and not quite an order. "Suck my cock."
He worked his shaft in his hand, making that swollen flesh throb and jerk. Ana was panting hungrily. Knowing how delicious her master's seed was, she was longing for a full load of her own to swallow.
But although the best part of giving head was the thrill when a cock exploded in her mouth, Ana was in no hurry to get there. She liked to linger over the preliminaries and to savor the meal before her creamy dessert.
Kneeling down, she began to lick his balls.
Peter groaned and Ana whimpered hungrily as the gamey flavor of his testes sparked her taste buds. They were as bloated as they had ever been, the cum boiling inside them as she laved them thoroughly.
Then she began to lick his shaft, slurping along the ridge of the pulsating vein underneath his manhood. Her flattened tongue drew slowly upward, then fluttered at the sensitive spot where his cockhead bulged out from his shaft.
Peter was trembling as Ana tilted her head and fitted her parted lips to the underside of his member, as if playing a flute. She pulled her mouth up and down, going down to the exciting musk of his sweating balls, then back up to the seeping precum at his tip. His hard prick was humming like a motor as her moist lips made the circuit again and again. The knob pulsed, flaring out like the hood of an angry cobra.
Ana was happy that he had already drained his balls on Mary Jane and Felicia, knowing that he would last longer now—longing to suckle at him on and on and on.
Turning her face down, she began to lick the tip of his cock. Her tongue swept all over the swollen purple head and dipped into his slit. She tongued up the thick film of cum and other women's juices greedily, whetting her appetite for the fresh load ahead of her.
Peter held her face between his open hands, gently rocking his hips so his manhood pushed into her mouth. "Suck!" he wheezed.
Obedient as ever, her lips slowly parted and slipped over the head of her master's prick. He gasped as the sensation of her hot mouth enveloped his throbbing member.
Ana began to nurse. Her cheeks hollowed inward as she sucked, and her lips turned outward, collaring his shaft below the crown. His balls rested on her tits, and she took hold of her own breasts to mash them together around his testicles.
As Peter groaned, Ana turned her face, screwing her mouth around on the head of his prick. He tongue was bathing the underside of his flaring tip. Peter couldn't help himself. As gentle as he wanted to be, he began to fuck into her mouth, shoving more and more of his shaft into the oval of her lips.
Her head pushed down to meet his cock as he humped it up into her greedy mouth. Her lips distended, pulling on his shaft as he withdrew. Her saliva streamed down his balls as she suckled on the head.
He thrust himself balls-deep into her throat.
"Urrrk!" Ana hacked as his smoldering cockhead pumped into her gullet and his balls ballooned against her chin. Then she drew back up, sucking through every thick inch. She drew her mouth off him and licked his cockhead some more, then fed it back into her lips.
Precum was lashing her tongue now, like hot wax dripping onto her most sensitive areas. And it was even more delicious straight from his cock. She whimpered down his prick, lips moving like a torch singer caressing a microphone.
"Come in my mouth, master, on my tongue. I'm so hungry for your seed!"
She dove down as if she were bobbing for apples, gorging herself on his delicious prick.
Rogue was fucking herself frantically, licking her juices from her fingers and palms as she used first one hand, then the other. She imagined it was Ana she was tasting. She imagined she was licking it off Peter.
She was still trying to conceive some plan to fuck them, fuck Peter, without courting embarrassment.
And a clever plan was forming in her fevered mind as her pleasure mounted.
Peter was pumping his prick into Ana now, jolting her head up and down. Just as she wanted, he was fucking her mouth, using it like a cunt. Her ravenous mouth slid down and pulled up in a steady tempo, matching his face as he fed his shaft to her in a rising frenzy.
Peter's balls erupted violently and his thick seed came rushing up his shaft.
"Drink it!" he gasped.
"Mmmmummm!" Ana gurgled, feeling his rock-hard shaft ripple around the rising geyser.
His first spurt shot straight down her throat so that she felt the heat of it without taste. She pulled her mouth up to his cockhead and his second burst skimmed over her flashing tongue. Peter kept coming, shooting as he plunged in and shooting again on the recoil. Ana's mouth was full of his jizz. The warm slime sloshed in her cheeks and swirled over her teeth. Her tongue was floating in the stuff, dripping with it.
And she swallowed it all hungrily. But the massive load proved too much for her. It overflowed from her lips and ran down both sides of her chin. Heavy globs splattered down onto her breasts.
At last Peter began to falter. A last jet hit the roof of her mouth. She kept sucking, milking out the final dregs from his balls.
Then, folding her fist around his rampant prick, she jerked up and down as she nursed on his cockhead, pumping out a few last drops by hand.
She held his cock in her mouth for a while, keeping it hot and hard. Then she drew her lips off him and used her tongue to gather up the errant drops that had escaped her mouth and run down his shaft.
"And I thought Felicia liked cream!" Peter gasped.
Ana smiled at the compliment.
"I love sucking your cock, Peter," she whispered. "It's so delicious and your cum is so yummy… I'd blow you all the time, if I could. But I have a new assignment. Another hunt. Be gone for months and months."
"Ana, this is—so sudden."
"I wanted to see you married before I left. Now, the red and the white can take care of you." Ana smiled up at him. "I want to taste your cum all the way there, master. All the way to China."
She took his cockhead back into her lips and mouthed him lovingly, delighted to find his cock was still stiff and ready for action. It had softened and diminished only slightly, and she easily helped it to another booming erection.
"Wanna come again?" she cooed, lapping at his tip as if it were a melting ice cream cone.
"Anything for you."
Ana brought a hand to the side of Peter's cock and pressed it on, turning it to the side. Soon, Peter had to turn to keep Ana from crushing his cock against his own lap. And as he turned around, he saw Mary Jane.
She had come from the shower. Her hair was wet, a glossy red that ran down over her breasts like the most elegant lingerie in the world. Her flesh gleamed with the dew of the shower. Her cunt flared like the reddest lipstick imaginable, a tuft of her copper pubic hair the flame on a fuse burning down.
"Get it while it's fresh," she said.
Mary Jane's room was like a dressing room, the vanity set with lightbulbs around the mirror, posters of some of her more enjoyable roles framed on the walls—lightbulbs around those too, like at an old-fashioned movie palace—fresh flowers in vases and the bed a vividly red valentine-heart, like the room was one part Bette Davis, one part Vegas showgirl.
Peter could only imagine what a comfort it was for MJ to be in such surroundings. As much as they weren't really her, or at least, not all of her, the glamour and glitz were a protective cocoon, a deliberate amnesia of the horrid home life she'd had, of all the traumas and troubled she tried so hard to forget. Or move on from.
He put on his costume. She went into this room and tried to make it a hiding place from her demons.
The funny thing was how the red and blue costume wasn't the best hiding place. Neither was the bedroom like the honeymoon suite at Niagara Falls. For Peter, at least, Mary Jane was his comfort, his home, his safe haven. And he tried like hell to be that for her as well.
The ring on his finger made him that and he was going to start living up to it, right now.
"Peter!" Mary Jane cried as he picked her up. She was shocked, but as was so often the case, her startlement didn't come with fear, but excitement. She laughed in his arms as he carried her to the bed, laid her down underneath him and stayed poised for a moment above her, drinking in her beauty. Her hair bled into the glossy red covers, locks of it tapering into the black bedsheets beneath, trickling in as if to temptingly lead his eye. Soon enough, they'd be under those covers, locked together by those sheets…
"I can't believe I waited so long," Peter said softly.
"I can't believe it either," Mary Jane replied. "Seems unfair, though. Felicia and I bribing you with our bodies, when we enjoy what you do with them so much…"
"Oh, it seems more than fair enough from up here," Peter assured her. "I love you, Mary Jane Watson."
"Mary Jane Watson-Parker," she corrected him. "And it feels damn good to be called that again."
Mary Jane bit her lip, looking up at him lovingly with her soft green eyes. They darkened with passion, two clouds in the same thunderstorm. Wiggling under him, MJ got up on the pillows and held her lovely, rounded breasts for Peter's kisses, her cleavage rising and falling with her aroused breathing, the cherries topping the creamy white mounds offered provocatively to her husband's kisses.
She could feel a delirious honeymoon atmosphere with the night—not just sex, but a man and a woman glorifying in their having found each other—and her arousal grew even fuller as she thought of all the delightful moments they would enjoy since she took her vacation tomorrow. No Broadway, no photo shoots, no casting calls… they would have three full weeks to devote entirely to each other… well, maybe not entirely…
A cloud passed over Mary Jane's lovely face as she remembered Peter would still be doing his duty as Spider-Man. The newlywed tried to chase all such unpleasant thoughts away and to concentrate on their current delightful occupation. The fires were burning throughout her body, hotter than she would've believed, not just with lust but with the knowledge that she was once again Peter's. That their family, however unconventional it was, was whole. There might be other members, but tonight was for her, Peter, and the child they would bring into the world.
"I love you, Peter Parker," she said in a slightly strained voice. "You can see for yourself…"
Peter did. He kissed the strawberry nipples that hardened against his lips. He felt her hands exploring him as he gloried in her warm nudity. Then he lay down beside her for a moment or two and just stared. She was beautiful. Perfect. Just her eyes stunned him once again. Her body was smooth and voluptuous, youthfully slender and yet with the elegance of experience.
He could see now that she was his first love, first real love, not the blind, idealized worship of the pedestal he had put Gwen on. Their love was mature, worked for and sought after, and as hard as it had been to bring it about, he cherished it far more than the fantasy of a relationship with Gwen that would've been as easy as the dream it was.
He stroked her velvet flesh, running his hand down her thighs, crimping the soft round buttocks, feeling the pulsing warmth of her sex under the fleecy covering of her pubic hair, making her shiver and moan under his expert touch. Then he kissed her, reaching under her to pull back the sheets and roll atop her, pressing her into the soft mattress beneath.
No sooner had he kissed her then she sucked his tongue down into her mouth, probing and stroking it with her own. He didn't raise up to stare into her eyes this time. His cock was thrumming, the blood racing hotly throughout his body to his hardening length. He cupped her breast instead, caressing it tenderly as she squirmed under him. Her own tongue shot into his mouth, letting him taste the sweetness of her.
He dropped his hand to her taut little belly and lapped his fingers over it as her breath quickened in his mouth—then he let his fingers trace down over the rise of her pubic mound to her thighs, her beautifully luscious thighs…
Mary Jane could feel his focus on her, how determined he was to make her feel pleasure, his consciousness so immersed in her that she could almost physically feel it. No one else had ever cared about her the way he did. No one had or could love her in the same way. It was almost addictive, the wholeness with which he was in love with her.
She felt his hand clutching her naked breast. She gasped aloud. He squeezed while his tongue played in her mouth—thumb and forefinger found her nipple—it was rolled tenderly to the beginnings of pain, then released, generating tiny shocks throughout her body.
"C'mon, tiger," she whispered into his mouth. "Step on the gas. Show this little hot rod what you can do in it."
Peter took his wife's warm, shapely body in his arms and kissed her all over. Mary Jane kept gasping and wiggling, but, grinning, he ignored it. He turned her on her belly and lay on top of her to run his tongue down the deep line of her spine, feeling each body ridge lined up perfectly with each other. She shivered and groaned with glee.
He opened her legs and nibbled at the soft flesh on the inside of her thigh. He touched her lightly with the tip of his tongue and thrilled as she giggled and begged for more.
Everything about her is absolutely beautiful, he thought.
Again and again, he was tempted to plunge himself into her ginger delight and enjoy her body to its fullest, but he wanted to get the best out of her. She was willing, eager in his hands, refusing him nothing, offering him everything, turning over when he wanted her to.
He moved down one leg, stroking the muscles from her firm buttocks to each individual toe, kissing her foot quickly on its most ticklish spot, then moving back up the other leg, turning her over to do it in front, massaging her breasts, kissing her neck and her ears, she was nearly going crazy it was so good for her.
Peter was breathless himself now. His heart was pounding. He pulled away, and as he looked at Mary Jane's dimpled hips dancing in place, swaying sensuously and expectantly so near him, he felt the savage urge to please her the best way he knew how. As selfish as it sounded, MJ was like him. There was nothing she enjoyed more than knowing he was happy; and what made him happy tended to make her very happy.
Peter checked himself as his body moved forward compulsively, between the warm, velvet grip of her thighs. Mary Jane squeezed with her legs, laughed at the hardness she felt in his abs, quickly ran her hand from his chest down his body. She was not at all disappointed by what she touched at the bottom. His thick cock throbbed in her hands, precum glistening at its purple tip. Tenderly, she stroked the foreskin down its full length and helped return it to cover his cockhead.
"Oooohhh, tiger!" Mary Jane exclaimed. "You finally going to sink your teeth into me?"
"The funny thing about tigers is… they usually stalk their prey a while before they make the kill." Peter began to slip downward, lowering his mouth to her body but not kissing, sniffing. His nostrils flared at her chin, her collarbone, lower, lower. "They track… by scent…"
He dropped down before the rounded moons of her buttocks, pressed tightly against the mattress.
"You know how to find me," Mary Jane said, reaching down to take his head in her hands. "You always know." She pulled him forward as she opened her legs. "Kiss the bride, Pete."
She gaped at him through half-opened eyes. She could feel the sweating palms of his strong hands clasped against her inner thighs, opening them wide, and suddenly she wanted to open them even further for him. She watched excitedly as his head lowered slowly… slowly…
"Fuck!" She jerked when his burning lips closed over the soft mound at the base of her belly. His face blurred in her vision, coming into focus once more at her soft fleece as he planted wet, tingling kisses on her pussy, his tongue slashing insanely at the quivering opening.
"Peter! Peter! Peter!" she called in a hoarse, strained voice. "My husband!"
He pushed his whole face into her groin, letting her flowing juices wet his handsome features. Peter felt as though he wanted to breathe her into him. He moved his face back and forth between her legs with every lick he took, parting her engorged labia with each movement, his nose nudging her small clitoris, making it stand up rigidly just over his tongue's marauding strokes.
Mary Jane moaned and called his name, pushing his face harder and harder into her waiting gates. He licked her smoothly, feeling each tiny fold of her delicious cunt against his adoring tongue.
She could feel the swelling up within her… his tongue and lips worked away at her and she could feel the obscene heat of his panting against her most sensitive places. Her own hands moved sensually down over her throbbing breasts and slid slowly along her smooth, flat stomach, coming to a rest on either side of her hips. Her fingers stroked softly for a moment at the flexing hollows of her inner thighs… then, slowly spread the lips of her cunt, allowing his hunger complete access to her secrets.
She pressed her elbows to her ribs and her head twisted from side to side uncontrollably as his hot, searing tongue shot out, its candle-flame tip circling her clit. She felt his lips suck, drawing the warm folds of her soft cunt into heat and pressure, while his tongue continued its maddening assault against the straining bud of her clitoris.
"God. God! How the fuck did I turn down marrying you?" she groaned.
"You turned me down once. You agreed to twice," Peter pointed out.
"You're right," Mary Jane said, moaning again and again, unashamed from deep in her throat. "I'm a genius."
Peter's tongue worked its way up and down the length of her narrow slit, starting at the low way, pressing down the opening of her sex and deep into the crevice of her flexing buttocks, all the way to a wet, probing homage to her anus. Mary Jane's hips ground wildly into the mattress, soft mewing sounds escaping from between her clenched teeth.
Peter worked frenziedly, feeling the soft wet pubic fur of his wife's cunt brushing tantalizingly against his cheeks. He loved that. He loved her. He loved to see her squirming under his caressing tongue.
Her moans drove his tongue faster as it worked its way into her steaming gates. Her hands tangled in his thick brown hair, encouraging him to go deeper into her pussy. He ran his tongue into the soft pink flesh, flicking at its mysteries, then withdrawing to tease around the scalloped edges of her delicious opening.
Mary Jane forced him deeper, pressing his mouth directly over the tight little opening, and he obligingly thrust his tongue deep down into her, raising a guttural moan from Mary Jane. Her thighs closed convulsively around his head.
He could feel her inner flesh slip moistly around his extended tongue, the walls of her sex opening and closing in a sucking motion of their own. Her heels pushed down on his back, pressing him into her open thighs until he could barely breathe, his nose smashed tightly against her pubic bone, breathing in the scent of her juices flowing abundantly from her. It was bringing his cock to a hardness he wouldn't be able to control much longer. He had to fuck either her or the rumpled bed sheets under them, and he preferred it be her.
Mary Jane's body was lost in the ecstatic fire Peter's tongue had lit. Every muscle of her body was tensed as she strained her hips upward to the maddening kiss he was giving her cunt. He's magnificent! She thought passionately. Why would I ever mind being tied down to him?
Her love for him incited her further. Her legs opened and closed around his tormenting head, squeezing him tighter to her pussy, and the cords of her neck stood out as she pulled on his hair with all her strength.
"Keep going! Don't stop!" she pleaded, splaying her legs wider and wider. She wanted to give him all of her. "Please, Peter, lick my cunt! I know you love how it tastes! It's all yours! As much as you want!"
Then there was a rushing in her ears and she gasped for breath as the ceiling caved in on her and she screamed at the sweet, impossible delight of it all, wanting it to go on and on forever, never to stop until her whole being had exploded with sensation.
As she lay panting and slowly recovering, Peter pulled his head away from her flooded loins with one last kiss to her inner thigh. His smile gleamed with her orgasmic juices.
"I'm going to come inside you," he husked. "You're going to have my baby."
She wanted that, but even more, Mary Jane wanted to feel his rigid hot presence within her. She wanted him to fuck her, hard, deep, with those passionate thrusts of his that seemed to bear down on her deepest, most sensitive being. Bringing out her most secret emotions. Telling her with every part of his body that he loved her.
Mary Jane folded her trembling legs around his back as he slowly positioned himself between her waiting thighs. Putting her hand between his legs, she even guided his cock to her entrance.
Peter moaned and began to push down into her, penetrating her with the peaceful contentment of am an already satisfied. Mary Jane groaned and clutched at him with her arms. Her body admitted him freely, though she tightened enough to increase their mutual pleasure. Reaching further down, she grabbed hold of his heavy balls and gently began to massage them.
"I'm going to be your wife," she whispered. "The mother of your child. Right now, Peter. I want to be a mother right now!"
She lifted her hips off the mattress until she could feel his steely prick pushing against the moist lips of her sex, prodding painstakingly at the tiny opening. The purplish head of his swollen endowment gently parted her, pushed into her, feeding more and more of his shaft into her needing cunt.
"Mmmmm!" she whimpered, feeling her deepest places on fire with need.
The thickness of his cock was filling her, and she could feel her damp walls close around his shaft with each increasing stroke. Once they were completely joined, she began to cover his face with passionate kisses. She ran one hand down his back and squeezed at his muscular ass, feeling it tense as he thrust into her.
Peter's spirits were soaring, having Mary Jane so hungry for him that she was feeling his balls, his buttocks as he gave her stroke after stroke. She really was the best. And she was his. His to please, his to take care of, his to protect. He stayed his pistoning invasion for a moment, felt her squeeze her entrance against him. He kissed her quickly, before she could overwhelm him, telling her in pure sensation how he loved her. He didn't think he was capable of speech just then.
He pressed into her again, measuring the depths of her enjoyment by her actions. When she clamped her limbs tightly around him, he knew she was in her most desperate throes. Then she would relax and her pleasure would increase until she began tossing her head from side to side.
It was all too perfect. Peter knew he could not control the fire raging inside him for much longer. Finally, when an almost agonizingly tense moment of paralysis gripped him, he surrendered to his galloping senses with a minimum of regret. They had the rest of their lives to reach this mutual ecstasy again. Again and again and again.
"Oooohhhh, Peter!" Mary Jane gasped, as she felt her walls contract around the monstrous, delicious prick that was snaking inside her, snaking into the very core of her. "You are a tiger! You're a beast!"
He let her have it hard and good in one powerful thrust that speared her to what seemed like an incredible depth. Mary Jane recoiled for a moment as if in pain, then bounced back to meet his thrust. It was a beautiful sensation for Peter as her fiery flesh consumed him. Kneading and twisting internally, she took his passion into herself.
The tightness in her loins was building to the breaking point and she knew that she was about to explode… about to come!
"Oh yes… yes… I'm there, I—fuck!" she almost screamed, bucking her hips up against his pounding member. "Come with me!"
"I am!" Peter groaned as he spasmed deep inside her. He let go of all his scalding semen with a low rutting grunt as Mary Jane moaned, wallowing in abandoned delight, her eyes tightly closed, bright lights sparking all around the blackness of her vision. "I'm right there with you, MJ… right there…"
She sank back as the thrills ebbed from her, and she massaged his weakening body with her shaking hands, rewarding his lips with gentle kisses.
"Don't go now, tiger," Mary Jane whispered. "The king of the jungle… has to prowl his territory…"
He could feel her twitching around him, her lush warmth still tight on his manhood, and he stayed on top of her, both of them still and exhausted.
Then, Peter eased himself out of her, feeling her discomfort growing.
"I'm too sore," MJ said. "Too much of a good thing. Maybe for the rest of the night, we can stop trying to make babies and just make memories?"
"Absolutely," Peter said. "Who's turn is it now?"
"Felicia's," Mary Jane answered readily. "I wanna watch you fuck Felicia."
Slowly, Felicia became aware of Peter's hands. They had rendered her naked from the waist up, and her breasts heaved and quaked with every breath, finally bare. His hands stroked the soft flesh, twirling the pebbly nipples on the tips of his fingers. He was too engrossed in the noises she made as he kissed her ear to put his mouth on her needy tits and suck—perhaps he was worried about what he'd get from sucking. She pushed him back, trying to get him to center on them, and he stopped and stared.
Felicia's physique wasn't immediately obvious, not from the layers she wore, her collection of jackets, the tricks she pulled like an actress hiding her pregnancy, all but carrying a box in front of her at all times. Now, naked, Peter stared.
She had the glowing good health that so frequently came with pregnancy, a little frayed, but with every indication of being lavished with care and attention. Peter guessed that even if Felicia weren't somewhat self-indulgent by nature, that Mary Jane had been a stern taskmaster, keeping Felicia in whatever exercises and activities and dining could hold her from the doldrums.
She was far along, the bulge well-rounded, setting off her girthy zaftigness. There was something 1940s-ish in how she'd been rounded off, her general voluptuousness enhanced, lush, full, different. Her fine, firm breasts had only had their fineness and firmness exaggerated by her conditions, and they stood out pendulously above her pregnant stomach, their milk-white color suggestive.
They thrust out from her body all by themselves, and it seemed almost impossible that they could jut so strongly with those fully rounded undersides, so heavily laden with nourishment for the child growing inside her—his son—but Peter supposed whatever good genes had made them perky at their previous size held true now.
Felicia looked down at herself with a laugh. "I don't think I'll have any trouble feeding baby, now will I?"
Peter shook his head.
"Sometimes they feel like they're on fire, you know. Like balloons about to explode. Especially when you make the nipples so hard—you or Mary Jane—it's like you taught her, I swear. Let's, let's… ooohh!"
Peter had finally given up on her ear and had swiftly moved to her tits. His mouth engulfed one's creamy white roundness. He tried to stuff all of its marshmallow richness into his mouth, but it was too big, his mouth too small. The attempt was doomed to failure, but it didn't matter. What did was the pleasure both felt from trying.
Mary Jane sat down on the bed, as naked as the two of them, pressing one hand and a warm, damp towel to her pussy. It ached from just how thoroughly Peter had fucked it, unused to the demands he put on it, but it was a good soreness, a wonderful reminder of the intense pleasure she had felt with him inside her.
"I was just saying to Peter," Mary Jane began, "how unfair it seems that we trade our bodies for a baby, then we enjoy giving him our bodies so much."
Peter's mouth was completely stuffed with Felicia's tit. His tongue swiftly laved the erect nipple and toyed with it. He began gently gnawing the lust-hardened nub, enjoying the taste of Felicia's breast. It tasted of milk.
"What do you want to do?" Felicia asked, her teeth almost chattering. "Have him fuck us in the ass? I don't know about you, but I just might be able to enjoy that…"
Waves of passion echoed through Felicia's chest every time Peter used his teeth. But it was his tongue that was making her wet. His agile, dexterous tongue pressed and caressed her ultrasensitive nipple, making it tense, then relax with little drips of breast milk. She would spurt soon. Felicia thrust her chest upward in a vain attempt to get even more of her teat into Peter's mouth. The more he sucked, the better it felt…
"We should do something for him," Mary Jane argued. "A signing bonus. Something he really wants."
Felicia convulsed with joy. Peter's tongue continually moved over the slopes of her breasts. Each rough stroke up and down their satiny sleekness brought a new and different response from the supine woman. Her body was like a naked nerve ending, quivering and straining for a lovely stimulus.
"H-how about it, Peter?" Felicia gasped, trying hard not to show how much she was getting off on Peter's mouth alone. "What do you really want? Me and Red to go ass-to-ass?"
Peter knew how much he was pleasing Felicia by her constant moans of delight. He also knew that it would really torment her if he paused a second, as she clearly thought he was incapable of doing while on second base with her.
"I've fucked you. I've married you. What more could I possibly ask for? The two of you to just walk around naked all day, fucking me whenever I felt like it?"
"Sounds good to me," Felicia replied.
Peter was barely listening. He'd decided to experiment a little. Starting at the bottom of the deep canyon between Felicia's breasts, he started spiraling up the mountain of flesh. He made sure each and every inch of skin received a long, drawn-out lashing from his tongue. The underside of the teat was continually massaged by his groping hand. Milk flowed down Felicia's tit in satisfying dribbles and Peter was happy to lick it up.
"No pants?" Mary Jane asked. "No wondering what to wear? No bras, no panties? I could live with that…"
When Peter reached the ruddy areola at the crest of Felicia's left tit, his tongue became a tornado. He drew the already engorged nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling faster and faster around it. Once between his lips, the nipple seemed to come alive.
Peter felt it throb and pulse with life. Each beat of Felicia's beating heart was a squirt of milk directly to his pressing tongue. Knowing how aroused she was added to his joy. It could only feel good to feel herself be drained. He certainly liked it.
"It's a deal, Peter," Felicia said. "No more clothes in the apartment. And if you like what you see, feel free to help yourself to… anything."
Peter lifted his head from her breast. "What?"
"Never mind," Felicia said, ushering him back down. "You'll figure it out."
She moaned happily as Mary Jane laid down across from him, sucking on her other breast. The way it felt to have them suckle her, she almost wished she could push the due date back a few weeks.
Felicia ran a hand down Mary Jane's naked back. "You and Ana didn't—ah!—leave me with much last time. As soon as I'm out… ooh!... we go find Ana. The next time… gawd… belongs to all three of us!"