When Mary Jane came home from work at ten-thirty, she had a surprise for her husband. Usually, her surprises for Peter had lace, underwire, or fishnets. Tonight, it had long blonde hair, big blue eyes, and a ripe body so delicious, it might've just finished budding.
"Is that…" Peter began, staring. He'd seen Gwen Stacy before, from other parallel universes, but the shock of it was something he'd never be used to. The pangs he felt were like another part of his heart, beating painfully, every pump stabbing into space that should've been empty.
"She's only here to spend the night," Mary Jane said quickly. "It was either here or some hotel and I couldn't just put her up in the Hilton and walk off…"
"No, no, you're right," Peter said. "I suppose it's best she stays with us… God, Gwen, you're so young."
"I'm eighteen. Don't start treating me like some little kid just because you're in your thirties. I'm older than you were when you were starting out," Gwen said sullenly. She tossed her gleaming hair out of her face and gave Peter a frank look with her luminous eyes.
Peter glanced at Mary Jane. He could feel the weird not-tingle of their spider-senses probing at each other, not going off, but getting a kind of feedback. "You, ah, filled her in on some of the details, huh?"
"She already knew a lot," Mary Jane explained. "Enough to come to me for help. Her universe is pretty… it's in bad shape. There aren't many people left."
"We got sent to safe places… like here," Gwen concluded. "None of us wanted to leave…"
"Okay. Yeah," Peter said. "Stay as long as you need to, Gwen."
"How about something to eat?" Mary Jane asked her. "You must be starving."
"Look, I don't want to impose," Gwen mumbled. "Obviously, I'll help out with the supervillains and if there's any chores that need doing until I can find some work—"
The baby started crying then. Peter was quick to move off to the nursery—"I've got it, I've got it"—while Mary Jane trailed behind.
"Go, get something to eat," she told Gwen. "You don't worry about a thing. We'll take care of all of it."
In the nursery, Peter had already soothed baby May down into a softly gurgling noise that was not only quiet, it was downright pleasant to listen to.
"Does she need a change?" Mary Jane asked, coming in.
"I can handle it."
Mary Jane took May from him and smelled her diaper. "Yeah, she needs a change. I'll do it. I sprang Gwen on you."
"It's no big deal," Peter assured her. For a man with a secret identity, he wasn't very convincing. "We might as well do it that way as any other—like ripping off a Band-Aid, oww, right off."
Mary Jane took May to the changing table and started in on her. Peter gave in to not helping out, backing up enough to be out of range of the smell. He listened silently as Mary Jane told him how the police had found Gwen stumbling around in the inner city and brought her to the local hospital.
She'd been off-balance, almost incoherent, with no baggage except for the clothes she wore on her back. There was nothing really wrong with her, except for the trauma she'd been through and the joys of interdimensional travel—all of which made her seem drunk, stoned. She'd proven argumentative with the nursing staff, but finally managed to get her hands on a phone and call Mary Jane. The number, thankfully, was the same in both universes.
"Once she saw me, she calmed down a lot. I was able to get her to rest some and get some food and water into her. I also called… some friends to check out her story. I wanted to make sure of her before I let you know about her and reopened all those old wounds. But she's telling the truth, poor girl." Mary Jane's eyes brimmed over with sympathy. "Were we ever that young? She's only a kid."
"Seems like she never gets a chance to be anything else," Peter said.
Gwen was sound asleep on the couch when they came out of the nursery. A plate of crumbs was on the coffee table. Mary Jane took it to be rinsed in the sink while Peter took a quilt off the loveseat and threw it over Gwen. With nothing else to be said, they went to their own bedroom and stripped.
Peter embraced MJ from behind, both hugging her and prying away her clothing, lustfully enough that Mary Jane shivered fiercely. Sex with Peter was always good, but some things made him absolutely need her, and that was when Peter fucked her hard enough that Mary Jane was barely able to stop coming.
But not tonight, she suddenly decided. A wholly different kind of excitement was stirring in her, a strange, feverish passion that she'd never felt before. It'd been kindling in her since she'd brought Gwen home.
"Maybe she could help me out with the baby," Mary Jane cooed, unable to suppress her thrill as Peter squeezed her bare breasts. Subtle fingers stroking them until they were as swollen as could be.
"Don't you think I should help out with the baby?" Peter asked her, pulling her down onto the bed with him. "I certainly put in the work making her…"
His lips brushed against her ear, not kissing her, not when he had more to say, but definitely making his intentions known. Her flesh was his to mouth, bite, suck, and he was going to take advantage of that fact.
"It's not like either of us make our own schedules. I have to get back to work and you can't stop being Spider-Man. If Gwen could just watch May a few hours each day—"
Peter's roving hand squeezed on Mary Jane's hip, not tight enough to be painful, but with strength that told MJ that her husband was not as cool as he pretended. He was being pushed toward his limit… "You've just met her and you want to leave our baby with her?"
"Would hiring a nanny be any different?"
Peter realized how tight his grip had gotten and he released it, patting Mary Jane's succulent ass instead. "Nannies have references."
"You don't know Gwen? I don't know Gwen?"
His hand slapped down on MJ's pert buttocks and stayed there, feeling the quivering vibrations moving through her nubile flesh from the spanking. "That's not our Gwen."
"I know that, but I can't believe she's some totally different person. She was made with the same pieces, at least."
"You can make a lot of things with the same pieces," Peter countered.
"Do you not trust her?" Mary Jane asked. "Or do you not like having a reminder around?"
Peter paused. "Does it have to be one or the other?" he asked finally. He pressed himself against Mary Jane—his huge, ready cock against her thigh. MJ felt her pussy clench. "This is getting a little heated. Let's blow off some steam before we make any decisions. I always think better with some post-nut clarity…"
"Peter, no, I don't want to," Mary Jane murmured, much as it pained her. Her pussy seemed to scream in distress at the thought of not getting Peter's usual tender loving care.
"Really?" Peter asked her. "Usually I have to get out the hose if I don't want you jumping me."
"I guess I'm self-conscious because your ex-girlfriend's in the next room," Mary Jane lied quickly. "And tired. It's been an emotional roller coaster for me too. Let me sleep on it. We'll do something in the morning. It'll be a nice change of pace."
"Revenge for all the dates I've ever missed," Peter quipped. He sighed and turned onto his side. "Okay, pretty lady, you get one night of peace. But tomorrow morning, you're pulling double duty with your wifely duties."
"You're on," Mary Jane retorted, secretly clenching her trembling sex. God, she was turned on!
But she could stand it—all those missed dates Peter had mentioned. She knew damn well he wouldn't be able to sleep soundly with his prick as hard as it had gotten. And not with a deliciously sexy little morsel like Gwen Stacy just a few yards away.
Mary Jane had seen how Gwen looked at her husband, her bright eyes drinking him in, seeking out the bulge in his pants to see if it was the way the fabric folded or simply him. Whatever else this Gwen had in common with their Gwen, Mary Jane was certain she went fast and hard. Her feminine intuition was that the blonde fucked like a mink.
Ever since they'd gotten back together, the thought of what Peter had done while they were apart had tormented Mary Jane. Mary Jane was not jealous, but curious. She felt fierce urges to watch Peter in action, seeing him perform just as Mary Jane performed for the camera.
She loved to be seen, she took pride in Peter—now she wanted to see him herself, watch him plunge his massive prick into another woman, into Gwen especially. The mere thought sent heat racing through Mary Jane's blood. She couldn't explain it. She didn't care to.
Maybe Gwen Stacy had cast a specter over their relationship for so long—a specter over both their lives—that this finally seemed like a way to exorcise her ghost. Peter could finally get to have her. And in a way, MJ would have her too. The urge was fierce… wildly irresistible… so heated she felt a need to fuck the beautiful young girl herself. Why shouldn't she—didn't letting Peter have Gwen earn Mary Jane the right to have her as well? Didn't she deserve closure as much as Peter did? It could be one more thing they had in common, one more thing they shared…
Mary Jane pretended to sleep. Her supple breasts rose and fell, quivering with each breath so much it felt like they were fluttering along with her racing heartbeat. All she could do, all she could think about, was waiting for Peter to take the bait. He was frequently up at three or four in the morning anyway. If she was asleep, he went on a night patrol. If she was lucky enough to catch him, Mary Jane could draw him back into bed with her, his surging cock just as eager for action as it was before they went to bed.
Now, though, the minutes ticked by, becoming an hour, then two hours, while MJ squeezed her thighs together to please her hot pussy. The satisfaction she gave herself was only more teasing, placing her in an agony of suspense, her heart hammering against her ribs, her lips silently praying for Peter to take the young blonde—just like he had all those bimbos, all those floozies, when they were apart. And the Black Cat, Mary Jane granted. And half of the Avengers; so she'd heard.
It seemed strange, considering how kinky their sex life had been, the two of them even participating in threesomes on birthdays and anniversaries—sometimes two men double-penetrating MJ, sometimes her and a friend giving Peter a double blowjob—but she had her secret, punishing desires. But Mary Jane wasn't some unsatisfied housewife or neglected, would-be adulteress. She was Mary Jane Watson and she did something to get what she wanted. So why couldn't Peter appreciate that she'd gotten him a tawny, barely legal blonde to fuck as much as he wanted?
After a small eternity of sweating and fervently hoping, Mary Jane finally felt Peter stir beside her. He got out of bed with a softness and a gentleness that belied the lean muscles she could see throughout his taut, slender body, rippling with power in every movement, his burgeoning cock swinging seemingly too hard to be believed between his thighs.
Mary Jane's heart went into overdrive. She could only imagine the paroxysms that monster prick would drive Gwen to. Could it be that this Gwen Stacy was a virgin—that Peter would get the chance to initiate her into sex that he'd missed out on with his own Gwen? Mary Jane felt faint. She could barely wait for Peter to do it, to take Gwen's virginity, and then she'd finish her off, go between Gwen's sweet young thighs and soothe the stretching, stricken pain Peter would no doubt leave her with. The thought of being Gwen's second ever sexual experience—showing her how good women could be after Peter had been her man—excited her more than ever.
As soon as Peter had quietly shut the bedroom door, Mary Jane thrust two fingers into her throbbing sex. She let out a deep moan into her absorbing pillow—all of her svelte flesh on fire with need. MJ couldn't even bring herself to get up and follow Peter, to watch as he deflowered that sexy little creature. First, she needed to get herself off. It felt so amazing, touching herself while she pictured it, that insatiable young virgin being mounted, conquered by her very own husband—!
Abruptly, the bedroom door opened again. Mary Jane fell still as if suddenly paralyzed, her fingers still inside herself, cunt tingling all around their penetration. With the bedsheet still over her and the room so very dark, Peter couldn't tell. He shuffled back to his side of the bed, yawned, and slipped back under the covers.
And Mary Jane heard the gurgling of the pipes as the toilet finished flushing.
A piss. He'd had to take a leak.
Mary Jane was so pent up, she felt like grabbing him and mounting Peter herself, just so she could have some satisfaction. But no, no, this changed nothing. It just meant she'd have to be a little more patient. Peter Parker, her loving husband, the father of her child, would get his long overdue shot at Gwen Stacy. And Mary Jane would do far more than watch. The way she felt now, she was willing to ram Gwen's mouth down on Peter's cock herself.
Peter and Mary Jane's condo turned out to be better furnished than Gwen's, but with May there, it was messier. The first hour that they left her watching the peacefully sleeping baby, Gwen cleaned up just to have something to do and because she'd feel more at ease with everything squared away.
After that, she picked up the remote control and turned on the TV, channel-surfing. Nothing exactly good was on. All the shows were subtly different from the ones back home and she immediately knew it would be disheartening to try and sort out the differences. She shut off the TV again and wandered around in search of something to do.
That was the real problem with babysitting: boredom. The baby had been asleep for hours and her parents wouldn't be back for a while yet. Gwen was tempted to go out, but she knew she couldn't do something so irresponsible. She was hardly a saint, but as long as she'd promised to watch baby May, that's what she would do.
Yawning, she wandered into the master bedroom and brazenly started looking through the Parkers' things, indulging the curiosity that any person's private life provoked. What she found, buried in the back of the closet, was a porno rag. Picture after picture of girls with their mouths full of cock, or their pussies, or their asses. The pages weren't stuck together or anything gross like that, but they were yellowing, curling, the pictures fading. She guessed the magazine dated back to when Peter was her age. A nostalgic curio as much as a 'marital aid'. And given what her Mary Jane was like, Gwen suspected Peter only 'made use of it' when she was out of town. The guy must've just been too old-fashioned to use an internet connection like everyone else. It was almost charming.
She stretched out on the bed, paging through the magazine and rubbing her thighs together, getting a good horny friction going underneath her jeans. Gwen didn't look at porn much either, but the thought that this was what Peter got off on did a fair bit to turn her on. It occurred to Gwen that one or both of the Parkers might return to see her going through their porno stash, but arousal had rushed in to occupy the vacuum of her boredom. She was too damn horny to stop herself.
One centerfold spread showed a petite little blonde sucking on a giant prick. The next page was of a Mexican girl getting it in her well-opened ass. After that was a close-up of a shaven pussy, spreading open to suck at a stiff, thrusting member.
"Fuck me," Gwen breathed. Was this the kind of thing that Peter did with MJ? What he might want to do with—anyone who caught his eye?
Gwen was unable to stop herself from tugging down her jeans and panties, her naked ass lying on the bed Peter shared with his wife, her clothes now down around her lush thighs. She rested the open magazine on her cleavage and shamelessly began to finger herself as she stared at the glossy photos—imagining Peter, Mary Jane, herself as the people behind those body parts, penetrating, being penetrated.
Her fingers made her sex simmer and burn as they played over her golden-thatched mons. Her thumb blurred on her hard clit. Gwen's other hand trembled as she turned the page, each new vision hitting her like a wet dream, pulling her into the pictures, making her the one sucking and fucking all those big cocks with all their cum…
"Christ!" someone gasped. It wasn't her.
Gwen sat up, the magazine falling off her body as she looked to the bedroom door. Standing there open-mouthed were both of the Parkers. Gwen flushed bright red with her embarrassment, desperately pulling at her tight jeans to get them back around her waist.
"Gwen Stacy," Mary Jane muttered.
"I'm so sorry," Gwen panted. She wiggled the jeans over her hips and tried to zip them up, but her pubic hair got in the way of the zipper. "Oh shit… I was… I just, well, I was really bored and I saw the magazine and… and…"
Mary Jane looked at Peter. She smiled. The bulge in his pants was simply immense. "Have at her, tiger," the redhead cooed. "She's all yours."