Chapter 17

Houston, We Have Some Problems

Part 1

They were doing it again. Without her.

Aracely didn't mind too much. After they had showered, Peter had made her stay in the chair, away from them, and had used his webbing to make sure she stayed put. It tasted a little bitter, but a little sweet, too. And it didn't go away when she had it in her mouth, but the flavor didn't either, so that was nice. It was like gum!

She didn't understand why he didn't want her to be with them, but knew he had a reason. She could feel them. The two of them radiated feelings, for each other and at the world around them. It made them look different. The Peter like… her, the one with breasts, and long hair and pretty eyes and pretty smile, she was bright. Almost luminescent. She reminded Aracely of sunny days .

But Peter, the one with a penis, not like her, he… wasn't bright. Not as much. Not anymore. Aracely could still see it, but it had been buried, covered up in so much dark clouds that it was raining. And that was a little odd because she had never seen someone like him before, like either, separate and different but the same, but it was also a little relaxing. She liked the rain. But his brightness was buried like she had been, beneath so much stuff she hadn't had the strength to push away. Maybe he didn't either, and Aracely did not like that. She had needed him to help her, and so he did. Maybe he needed her help?

But he wasn't going to ask, she knew that much. His mind was shut so tight to her that she couldn't see or feel anything beyond the few emotions that were strong enough to sit on the outside - like cactuses. Sharp and prickly and mean thoughts that whispered to her and wouldn't let her inside. No one had ever been able to do that to her. It was… new. It was exciting.

It hadn't been long before the two of them had started it up again. Aracely had felt delirious. The two Peters together had broadcasted everything to her and she'd gotten so wrapped up in it that she had felt she was in the shower with them. And when they came out, Peter was like her, laughing and silly on the couch, while Peter had tossed a towel on her and went to get something to drink. He wouldn't look at Aracely herself, though. All she could tell was that he felt bad. But why would he feel bad?

When he'd come back, Peter had brought something, a little plastic square. Peter was waiting for him, shaking her hips and laughing with Aracely. And Aracely saw that look in his eyes again, both of theirs. The hungry look. He glued her to the chair and left her to watch, which was a little annoying because she was there too, spreading her legs for him, and he hadn't so much as looked at her, and the nice girl like her, the one name Cindy, had told her that he did that sometimes. A lot of times. That his standards were way too high and that he wouldn't even stick his dick in you if your… cuh-unt? - Aracely didn't understand the word - to web you even if it was on fire.

Aracely pouted, watching Peter line up the other Peter's hips. She licked her lips, tasting the bittersweet stickiness of the webbing on her chin. He ripped open the plastic square and steadied her as he rolled something onto his penis that she couldn't see - but Aracely could. She knew what it was too, had seen them in the streets and the trash… and the playground. She tilted her head. Why was he wearing a condom? It just seemed so… pointless to her.

He grabbed her hips and dragged her back. She breathed slowly, her laughter dying down and her fingers digging into the couch, leaving trails as he sank into her at a glacial pace. Aracely looked into her eyes and watched them twitch as every part of it stretched her wide and split her open. Her eyes began to flutter from the slow pace, and she started to smile, and Aracely smiled because she wanted her to feel good and it must have felt good, and even if she was trying to crawl away, Peter held her tight and just dragged her back at the same pace.

There was a soft, wet, tap of a noise when he stopped. From the angle, Aracely saw Peter's eyes widen and her stomach contract, and she looked down at herself, her hand on her belly, feeling the lump there. She shook her head and groaned to herself, but Aracely could hear it all…

and rasped at the sight. "Yess… fu- ungh… god… Pete," echoed in her head as Peter started to speed up. "Think I feel kinda… pregnant… You want that? Make me feel preg- unh!"

Peter stopped, smiling a little at her. His breaths came in heavy, almost as heavy as hers. "Gonna be hard to do with this," he said.

Jessica pawed at her stomach, sounding as confused as she did full. "You bought condoms- you're wearing a condom?" she asked, and looked over her shoulder to try and see the scant bit of his cock that wasn't buried up in her insides or obscured by the swell of her ass.

Peter held up the plastic. "Thought it'd be neat," he said. "Never got a chance to wear them before."

She felt a little… disappointed, but didn't know why. Beyond not being able to feel him go spelunking in her raw, but that couldn't have been it… probably. "So, lemme get this straight… you thought it'd be neat to use condoms while having sex with your sister?"

"That depends," he said, smirking. "Are you complaining?"

He smacked her lightly on the side of her ass, and she slammed back lightly against his pelvis in response. "I plead the Fifth," she said. "But come on, it's not like you ever had a reason to use them before."

Peter couldn't tell if she was talking about condoms in general, or with her in particular. Still, it was accurate. "Not until you gave me one, at least," he snipped back.

"That says more about you than it does about me, you know," she said, rotating her hips against him. Peter held her legs by the calves and watched her toes scrunch up. He pressed his thumbs into the soles of her feet and rubbed them, and she grunted. Not exactly a spa treatment, but… it was working. "And it's not like I asked you to wear one…"

"You are the only one asking to get fucking pregnant, Jess," Peter said, doing a full body shrug that sank him balls deep inside of her. Her eyes clenched shut and she clenched her jaw, slowly working out a low, moan from herself out of herself in lieu of a gasp.

"I'm the only one who can... probably," she panted. "Just… preparing for all eventualities… Don't judge me."

"Me? Never," he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. "Point given."

Jessica rested her head against the couch, and rode the wave of his hips working up against her at a conversational pace. They were fucking, but conversationally, and that made perfect sense to her as she raised a limp finger. "Point… taken."

When he stopped moving, she turned to find out why and saw him looking at his penis inside of her, frowning and pondering what secrets they held. Or maybe he was just very, very proud of himself and trying to find out how to get more inside of her- Jess felt like she should be. Some people swallowed swords - she took her genetic template's big, fat dick inside of her baby-box enough to feel it tapping at her eyeballs.

"You know how people say these things take the sensation away?" Peter asked.

After a second, she supported herself with her hands and angled herself so that they could look at each other Peter steadied her while she found her couch-sex legs, as opposed to her shower or ceiling-sex legs. It was a little difficult to switch gears as it turned out. "I may have heard something like that in things that may or may not have been porn."

"Well it's true- you watch porn? You watch porn," he asked, blinking at her.

She looked back, seeming just as shocked as he was. "What am I, a nun? You don't?" she blinked at him. "I mean, I know we- you didn't back when- but since that, no?" He gave her a plain look. Jessica looked at him like he was nuts. "I've been making up for lost time! No having to worry about throwing away semen tissues! What are you, a nun?"

Peter huffed, indignant, and idly adjusted himself so that his hips were more in line with hers, and she idly adjusted herself so that her cunt was choking the life out of his cock more in line with the way she wanted. It was casual and pointless, like stretching out in bed for either one of them. But now, it was his turn to let out a low groan, and Jessica put her face to the couch cushions and laughed softly into them, rotating her cheeks against him to the tune of his heartbeat that she could feel through his cock.

She huffed back, "I can't believe you don't even watch porn… Well, I guess that's kind of… cute."

Peter dragged his dick out of her faster than she thought possible, and her snatch clung to the condom as he did. Her teeth ground into her lip. "Don't ever call me that again," he said, and she waved him down. He grunted, offended, and shoved himself back in without the common courtesy she'd expect of someone who used a condom before deep-dicking their sister-clone.

"Why would I?" he harrumphed. "How would I? Where would I even find the time?" His hand came down onto her asscheek firmly, but not hard enough for it to hurt… too much. He gripped the meat on her cheeks like they were handles and kneaded them like they were dough with, and Jessica took it in stride and smiled to herself. He was a little mad, and his way of venting that was by fucking her, and that… was a little cute.

His touch started to feel hot and send a slow heat spreading outward to her hips. He followed it, seeking out the erect little nubbin of her clit, and flicked it around with his fingernail, and stuck to it with his fingertip and rolled it around like a little ball, forcing it into the steaming cradle of her cunt and beating it around like a little pinball, which wasn't very cute as she suddenly couldn't breathe but could speak just fine, groaning out, "God, Pete…"

Her hips reflexively jerked back, meeting the hard, smooth motion of his fuck as he worked her in and out like he was churning her braincells out. He gave her a short, gentle pat just above her pussy, where the feeling was just dull enough that she wanted to feel it even though it would probably hurt. She didn't answer, so he slowed down for her, and maybe his own sake, as she felt his balls rising against her thighs and the heat radiating off of them… she thought she could feel him twitching, throbbing inside her, but the rubber made it too hard to tell. They swallowed at the same time, and suddenly all she wanted to do was turn around and swallow his saliva, so she did, panting into his mouth with his tongue on hers.

"Did you just…?" she asked, swallowing thickly, and he nodded, their foreheads against another. Peter let out a breath into her mouth and she felt herself smirk, tasting the spearmint toothpaste from their shower-kissing from before.

His eyes looked half lidded, which was a good look for him, she thought. She clenched down on him, feeling like he was doing more to split her open and set her like a mold than she was working out even more of his would-be, clandestine nut out of his cock and into the condom, but the look on his face told her she was doing just that: wringing it all out and collecting. That it was for her alone seemed like a foregone conclusion to her.

"Hmm… how about that?" Jessica rasped to him, and she figured he'd like it if she ground her ass against him while she spoke, because she liked doing that… and what do you know, she was right. Maybe she was a mind reader or something. "Feel better?" He grunted. She snickered. "Did I get any more out of you there?"

Peter made another noncommittal grunt, half between sleep and annoyance. Jessica grinned at the look on his face. "Keep going…" he muttered.

She kept going, sitting up against him so that when there was any space between their skin, it was as wide as her finger. Lightly bouncing herself against him had its own advantages, even if it meant more work for her to be fucking him than him fucking her. Each dive against him came a little harder, and the sound of her butt meeting his hips got a little louder, and Jessica closed her eyes and moved to the concert of their fuck, feeling relaxed.

Peter thrust back a little but was happy to let her do all of the work. His cock surged and she thought she could feel the condom swell a bit more and punch more of her cunt out of the way so his penis could feel nice and happy inside of her, but that could have just been her imagination. What wasn't was how his prick responded to her clenching down on it like a vice, and she wondered if she was squeezing hard enough to get toothpaste to come out of a tube… and exactly how much paste he had left in his to give to her.

Jessica slowly closed her eyes and enjoyed he sensation. Peter let her work when she knew by all rights he could just wrap his arms around her and use her like a fucking toy, because that's what she was thinking of. That's what she was doing, only this time he was the toy and she was still getting all of her satisfaction out of him. Toys didn't need to cum, they didn't need to bust big, fat wads of nut up into a condom to keep their sisters from getting pregnant. All they needed to do was make her toes curl and her nipples get electric while she mauled at them, and her body to go rigid while they worked out a quiet, hissing orgasm from her, because that was their job.

If they did do what they weren't supposed to do… she could make an exception. Unfortunately, she was broke, and didn't have enough money to pay Peter for his services. But once she was done with him, he could get his payment from her too.

She collapsed against him, at least half supported by his cock and breathing heavily, almost swearing that the answer to two plus two was twenty-two, it now made so much sense to her. "How… about now?" she asked.

"Little sensitive right now…" he muttered, admitting defeat in the most roundabout way.

Jessica grinned. "30-Love," she said, turning to kiss and smirk against his lips. "Wanna take a break?"

"Shut up." He clapped her cheeks with his hips before his hands, his thrust strong enough for her to feel the fat in her ass jiggle and to cause her long, brown hair to bounce. She let out a loud cheer. "It's my turn."

"Mmnf! Don't… uh… be… such a sore… ungh… loser!!" she said, straining against his blows, but each one of them sent her further and further down into the couch until she was propping propped herself up onto her forearms. On she couldn't say anything, but she could feel him working his way up from 0 Love all the way to 45 in record time.

Jessica felt her teeth ground against her lower lip, her eyes half open and her brain feeling like mush as Peter slowed down. Her butt felt numb and her pussy felt like it had friction burn, and the spot beneath her legs felt soaked. It took her brain a few seconds to realize he had stopped, and just when it did, he gripped her hips and made a few quick, sharp and deep jabs of her ass against him to bury him inside of her. Now he was using her like a toy, but… what else was new?

"60-Love," he said triumphantly, leaning backward against the arm of the couch. Jessica winced and trembled as his sleeved prick gouged her out on its way out, but caught at the entrance enough to keep her fully plugged, and he tilted his hips to make sure it stayed that way. Her mouth opened and shut while he kept her plugged tight - which was for the best if she wanted to keep her IQ above two digits.

"Nnn… no," she said, trying to stand up. He stopped her from crawling away and taking his cock from the warm, wet, tight place she had offered it, and dragged her back. Her face screwed up into a smile and she crooned, not even recognizing her own voice.

"Uh-uh," Peter said, squeezing her soft thighs. "You're… not going anywhere."

Jessica rolled over, feeling his cock corkscrew into her as she did, showing her belly and baring her all to him. She didn't want to go anywhere. "It's… t-thirty…" she managed to get out, holding up four, then six, then one, and finally two fingers once she remembered how to count. "O-only thirty… love…"

Peter looked at her and shook his head, his body covered in a thin glaze of sweat that she all of a sudden felt like licking from his chest to his neck. "If you say so…" he said, and she looked into his eyes as she nodded and he leaned forward, coming to envelop and consume her with his arms.

Their chests slid against each other, covered in sweat as Peter bucked back up into her with little more than a small exhalation, and Jessica felt weightless for a moment before it all came crashing down. One of her eyes was half closed while the other was wide open, and she watched her drool fly out of her mouth in slow motion just before her cheeks loudly clapped down against his thighs and pelvis. She thought she heard herself scream over the wet and meaty impact her cheeks made against his thighs, but then realized that she wasn't screaming… she was cumming.

There had been a brief moment of clarity where she dimly made sense of how their strength went to their entire bodies, so of course she'd have enough muscle control to wring a tube of toothpaste dry or, in his case, there was enough power in his hips to easily bounce her ass around like a fat little ball with a hole perfect for him to fuck…

"How's… that?" Peter breathed. "45… or 60?"

Jessica held up seven, then three fingers. She heard him laugh confidently, but then her face was in the crook of his neck, her mouth gasping as she slobbered against his flesh and licked him hungrily. Peter helped her along by gripping her by the cheeks and squeezing, his fingernails digging painfully into her flesh, but that was fine, she wanted that… and she ground against him in turn, sinking her teeth into him like a vampire.

Not hard enough to break his skin, but enough to thank him for picking her up and setting her down on the fat piece of meat between his legs that was gouging her little cunt. Her legs wrapped around him, locked her ankles in place, and panted through another cum, her entire body shivering as his count went up by one, but so did hers.

They didn't stop. Peter fell against her in a heap, their heated bodies squirming against each other in a wordless, voiceless rut. He was flat against her ass, muscles contracting like a smooth machine in motion, gripping her fat cheeks from the side as though he were a child playing with his favorite toy. She smiled - he could use her like a toy whenever he wanted if he treated all of his toys this good… and she'd return the favor. It was only fair.

It was no longer about keeping count - Jessica had already lost count by the time the air touched her back, fresh an cool, when Peter peeled away from her. The sweat rolling down his forehead, and the hickeys and bite marks she had left on his neck and shoulder were a good look for him. He looked sweaty and hungry, and she knew she was the reason for that. She knew that if she turned around in front of a mirror, she'd see the marks he'd left on her fat ass, and bit her lip. Cindy was probably watching… and Aracely was definitely was. So, she decided to put on a show. As if what they'd been doing was just the pre-screening trailers, when the show was really just going to be more of the same.

Her back was flat against the now sweat-soaked couch cushion, so Jessica pushed herself up and crabwalked away. Peter didn't stop her, and his cock came out of her with a dull, wet noise. Her body locked up from the sudden, careless exit, but it was her own fault, so she was all too happy to let the uncomfortable sensation of getting unplugged rock through her, forcing her to heave in air while her pussy contracted on nothing but itself and air.

She slipped a couple of fingers inside herself for it to squirm on, but that was barely enough to keep her from feeling empty. She shivered, trying to calm herself down while her pussy treated her digits like it's favorite toy, that she now saw was as wet and hard and happy looking as she imagined, and covered in a rubber sleeve capped off with an obtusely fat looking bulb of semen.

She slipped her fingers out, wiped them on her belly, and leaned back onto the arm of the far end of the couch as she and Peter locked eyes. Though, he had never really stopped looking at her.

"So, how's it going?" she breathed. She waved in the air to correct herself. "With the- the thing, I mean. The uh, raincoat. Heh."

Peter had leaned back too, the two of them mirroring each other. "Bit of a too-tight fit," he said with a slight frown. "Kind of annoyed I wasted my money."

Jessica tilted her head. "Wait, are we talking about the condoms, or me?"

"Could be both at this point," he said.

She crossed her arms, covering her little beestings as she raised one foot in the air and brought it down, just out of reach of his cock. "Very funny."

Peter looked at her foot, then her, and she smirked. He rolled his eyes and trailed his gaze up from her toes to her breasts, and then her eyes. She sat up and turned around, looking around the suite. "Hey, where's the remote?" she asked. "Feel like watching something."

She peered over the arm of the couch, knowing exactly where the remote was, and exactly how she was making herself a target for him… and just how much of narcissistic little tragedy that would be as she put her knees together, hiked her ass high in the air, and arched her back. She winked at Aracely and called out to Peter, "You wanna watch something?" while slowly waving her cheeks from side to side.

"Watching something right now," Peter said. She could feel him moving across the couch, but didn't turn to see. She put her butt out more and leaned on her arms, like she was looking out the window.

"Is it good?" Jessica smugly asked, sharply jerking her hips from one side to the other. She barely looked over her shoulder; Peter gnawed at his lower lip and swallowed. "From your silence, I take it that it's really good," she said, and he closed in on her, pried her cheeks apart, and lined up his shot.

"You only think that because you're a narcissist," he growled in her ear. She didn't deny it.

Suddenly he was inside her again, to the hilt, and so fast Jessica didn't remember not being able to breathe until he was working her cunt over with his thrusts like a punching bag. He didn't kiss her, or hold her, or even hold her in place while he did to make sure she stayed put, because she was the one doing that. She was the one backing her ass up against him and groaning like a dumb animal, pushing her hair out of her eyes while he made the bulge in her belly appear and disappear behind hammer blows hard enough to make her breaths come out in gurgles. She was growling, wrenching herself away and snatching her cunt off of his cock, biting back a moan as the motion triggered her desperate insides to try and hold onto the thick trunk of dick for dear life before she forced it all back inside and crushed the arm of the couch in her hands like a potato chip.

Her pussy was so packed full it didn't know what to do, but she did, and looked over her shoulder to look Peter in the eye and let him know that even if she was a narcissist… with his prick inside her, his balls fat and flush against her quivering entrance, his thighs greedily trying to cram even more of him inside her to pulverize her poor little cunt… if she was a narcissist, he was one too.

Peter's other hand covered her other cheek and roughly spread it wide to make the reentries easier as her legs buckled, but she didn't want it easier right now, and he knew that. He spread her wide and rough, and Jessica grit her teeth to choke back the howl he was forcing out of her while they crashed into each other. The wood of the couch-arm splintered beneath her crushing grip, and her vision got darker, and darker, and darker… and soon she found her face in her arms while her stretched wide pussy creamed on his dick and his throbbing prick forced another fat nut up inside of her.

She tapped on his muscled forearm to tap out, and he did, after a moment of single-mindedly rutting against her. Their tongues met again, more trying to box each other, and Jessica spoke directly into his open mouth.

They took another break, not separating again, but lounging away from each other until the mood took them, at which point he had the perfect place to stuff his cock, and she had the perfect thing to stuff her cunt. She swallowed. "Maybe we should… you know, let her join in?" she asked, looking at him and gesturing toward the other girl after they were done. She looked almost pitiful, cocooned in webbing and trapped in the chair. But she also looked like she was enjoying the show.

"…Is she still staring?"

"She never stopped staring…" Jessica said, and smirked. "Just let her join us, she obviously wants to-" suddenly Peter ran his hand down the crack of her ass and she shrieked. "Hey, hey! No parking in the rear!"

"When my money gets me all access parking, Parker," Peter said, pointedly rubbing her winking asshole with his thumb, "then I'll listen to your suggestions."

"It's Drew," Jessica corrected, craning her head to see where he was going with his hand.

"Yeah, sure it is," Peter said.

She shot an apologetic glance to Aracely, who didn't mind much, and was more entranced with the sight of her weakly trying to stop him from handling her ass like a bowling ball, with only one hole available for his thumb. Jessica jumped as he drooled a line of spit that landed directly onto her confused hole. He slathered it around, spreading it and the cream from their fuck over her cheeks to make them shine. "…You just spit on my ass- my ass," she muttered, and felt him run his finger up and down her crack. "What am I doing with my life?"

"Getting your ass spitshined by your brother, I guess," Peter shrugged. "So, how's life?"

Jessica let out a weak laugh and stuck her thumb up. "Yay…"

Peter joined her, leaning over her and appreciatively palming her right cheek with one strong hand while the other felt at her small breasts. She felt his heartbeat, and that relaxed her. "Don't think I'll be trying this brand of condoms anymore," he said conversationally. "Or any at all. Not that I got a lot of experience on the subject, but I'm not impressed."

"Mn… that's good," she muttered. "You got… my vote, at least. No more condoms… gonna have to nut all inside your sister from again, I guess. Poor guy."

"Yeah, poor me," Peter said. He dragged out and it felt like he was taking her with him, and then cramming her back inside of herself on his next thrust - which, in a certain point of view, he technically was. He grabbed her by the thighs and held her close, and the bulge in her belly made a reappearance. "Once I get my money's worth out of this one though. Maybe."

"Can I… sit on your face later then?" she asked, grinning.

"Fuck, you can do it now."

She took him up on his offer. As the soft, pliable flesh of her ass and the heady heat of her pussy landed on his face, she made a mental note to put his services on permanent and semi-exclusive retainer. "This oughta keep you from saying bad words," she said, working her cheeks against his face as he held her up. She wriggled her hips against him to let him know that he was doing a good job making a meal out of her. "Really… put your mouth to good- yeah, right there… Pete, don't, don't… uh, so… mmngh," she swallowed, "better use."

Jessica gasped as he dropped her back onto his face, but with his efforts pointed in a… different direction. "Hey, I said no parking in the rear!" she shouted, lightly beating her feet against his hard stomach, but he wasn't listening. All the strength went out of her as he started to rummage through her cunt with his fingers, not even bothering to give her a second to breathe. Just one after another without a care, and the floor was getting closer as she hunched over further, crouching against his face just to… get him to… off.

She came more from urgency than feeling, and Peter stopped her from falling when her body decided that falling was a good idea. He lifted her up a little, sighing and catching his breath, and she watched him buck his hips in the air. There wasn't anything around to catch what he was pitching, and that was just a darn shame. "You suck, you know that?"

"So do you. Sucks to suck," Peter said, licking his lips. "Now it's spitshined. You're welcome, by the way."

She stuck her tongue out at him like a child. "I'm only giving you three stars on Yelp."

He tossed her up in the air like a paperweight, and she fell like a human sized one, landing on her hands with ease before softly alighting the rest of her body down. She stretched out her legs and spread them, laying on her stomach, and reached behind to spread one of her cheeks, exposing her spit shined holes to him. herself to him with a smug look. "Okay, three and a half. But only because of the bounce house treatment. I didn't ask for it, but it's a nice surprise," she said.

Peter saddled up behind her and rested his hands on her fat trunk like she was nothing but an animal, and played with her ass while he put himself inside of her, like he was nothing but an animal too. "Well thank you so much..." he said.

He was back inside of her, then, and now Aracely was watching them fuck. Again. Endlessly. She didn't imagine that it was her large, smooth, fat cheeks meeting the hard muscle of his body and making the only noise in the room. Or their combined weight making the couch rock and creak. Or that she was marauding, taking all the girl in front had to offer while coveting her body like some precious thing to own and possess forever.

No, Aracely was beneath them. Beneath the both of them when she should have been above them, being serviced by them. And it felt so good to feel that way, to have servants that could satisfy her every whim without even lifting a finger toward her. They were animals. Beings meant to be out in the fields to do her bidding. Hunters so insatiable, so twisted they lusted after each other. Fucking wasn't a strong enough word for the two of them, they were rutting, and all Aracely wanted in the world was to rip apart the binds that held her and shove every last finger on her hand inside of herself to feel just an ounce of what that was like. But they wouldn't let her.

They used each other like toys, but she wasn't good enough. Peter was stretching her out and holding her tight, handling her smaller form like a plaything, and Aracely felt the heat in her own center blossom and bloom as though she were the both of them, grinding her ass back against him as hard as she could to coax out every last drop of seed from him.

And then she felt it: the powerful veins that ran the breadth of his prick, the ones she'd seen in the shower, before stuffing her throat full of it, those veins surged and the heavy orbs of his testicles rose up and tightened against the tightly sealed entrance of her pussy- her cunt, Cindy had called it, and Aracely felt her legs go weak as he started to shoot into her, wanting to feel how his testicles pulsed and how they felt slapping against her as he punctuated each searing shot into the helpfully offered up hole with thrusts hard enough to turn her moans into gurgling cries.

Jessica fell limply to the couch and Peter caught her, easily holding her up. Aracely could see the powerful muscles of his back and arms wrap around her, the scars there, shine with a light dappling of sweat as he kept going. He humped it up inside of her almost limp form, as though she weren't even there, like she was just a convenience. And as he growled into her ear, it seemed to wake her back up - she hissed back, kissing at him as if responding to a challenge to her that she just couldn't back down from. They were at each other's throats in a haze of heat, licking and rasping and biting; Aracely couldn't even begin to understand what they were saying because it was just noise - a beautiful, animalistic, orgasmic din inside of her skull made up of senses and emotion that coiled around and penetrated one another. And she was at the center of it all, helplessly quivering as they had their way with her.

She was unmoving in the throne they had trapped her in, servants that had trapped their mistress - a horrific irony that they would pay for… but later. The webbing they used felt so soft and silky, like the finest dress. How kind. Maybe they deserved a reward instead? Maybe… yes, once she was… thinking straight, she'd reward them… somehow.

Aracely moaned out weakly, heat and her own impotent juices dripping out of her in the chair. The two where on top of each other on the couch just far enough away from her that she could only watch, his mate's arms stretched out in front of her and gripping tightly the cushions of the couch, and Peter doing the same behind her, holding onto her cheeks as he buried himself inside. He let out a breath and he laughed, and Aracely saw him smile and wanted to beam as she felt his emotions. He was happy, and she hadn't seen him like that before. He looked so handsome when he was happy…

"Jess, I think the condom broke."

"Oh, what a shame," Jessica said flatly. "What do we do? What if I get pregnant- what will we tell my test tubes?" They fell apart laughing, only held together by the condom as Peter started to pull back. She winced, putting a fluttering hand to his stomach to stop him. "Hang… hang on…" she said, groaning. "Just… gimme a minute."

"…You good?"

"Mmn… hmmm… mm-hmmm…M'fine," Jessica panted, sounding like she was riding the waves of a rollercoaster. She brought a fist lightly down onto the couch and wondered when it had been broken, but not how. "Just… if you yank it out like that I might just… lose my last remaining braincells, so- gimme a minute. Or five, you know."

She looked at Aracely, and then adjusted herself so that she moved and Peter went with her, and Aracely now had a clearer view of it, and could see what she meant. What he had done. Seeing where he'd been and how he'd been there… Aracely swallowed. It didn't seem possible that the other girl could have taken it so easily just by looking at her, and now the lust engorged state of her cunt made it look fat, and puffy, raw and used. Jessica's inner thighs were pink and shining with sweat and juices, and as Peter moved she broke out into little tremors. The condom was stretching back inside of her thinly and Aracely followed it to the mess he'd left inside her. It was… fat.

At first it only looked like a bluish-white blob, but Jessica closed her eyes and visibly strained, her stomach tightening, and Aracely saw it move. And deform. And push out, just a little. A squirt of cunt-projected syrup slid out along with it in a sharp burst, hitting Jessica in the calf as a result. The condom was so ballooned out and stretched that from the fattened exterior of the other girl's snatch, Aracely could see it beating down the walls of her insides like a slowly encroaching iceberg. It looked ready to pop, and it would have seemed painful if Aracely couldn't feel the phantom sensation of m, stretching her with inexorable slowness. Mute orgasms rocked through her and electricity raced behind her eyes as the two of them looked at each other again… and Aracely realized she was cumming too.

Peter leaned forward to get a closer look at it, coolly examining it by stirring his cock around. "God- mmnnff!" Jessica screamed. Her leg kicked out on reflex and Peter caught it by the heel, and dragged it out, taking her support with it. She fell flat, her face into the couch, and whined. "Don't- don't do that…"

"Well, it didn't break. I think," he said, not minding her. He slid his hips forward, using his arms to support himself as he sank down, his powerful chest to her slim back in a pushup, utterly mashing the fat of her asscheeks against him as he slowly ground his hips in a post-nut swivel that made Jessica break down and mewl for him, all while he beat her pussy into the couch."Yeah," he said, keeping his voice a whisper for only her to hear. "Feel that?"

'How could I not?' Aracely heard a groan in her head as Jessica whimpered back, her face screwed up into a mangled smile and her eyes fluttering. She wasn't even speaking now, just wordless noises. "Nn, uhm… oof, huh… uh-huh."

Aracely could feel it too. She felt Peter fight against the pleasure as he sank deeper, yet at the same time feeling so full and close to popping, and so, so gluttonous to want more from him. Neither of them realized Peter was speaking until he repeated himself. "Did it break yet?" he asked.

Jessica shook her head drunkenly, her head on a swivel and her jaw slack. "No, no it didn't, so just-"

"Good," Peter said, and in a second he stood up, kicked her legs apart, ripped the condom from his cock in short order, and then just… yanked the entire thing out.

Aracely heard a loud pop. Jessica looked into her eyes as she screamed. No noise came out. Aracely could still hear it.

It was etched into Aracely's mind. Her body spasmed, her eyes rolling up to see the ceiling just before her vision went dark. She didn't know who was who, who she was or where; if she was in the chair or on the couch or the shower, a victim of her Champion's usage or just a cruel afterthought. She only felt the shock of her body going through everything she had seen and heard, and the crooked smile etched onto her face. She was junkie that had just sunk a treasured needle into her arm to get her next fix, and her toes curled, her hands balling into fists inside the webbing, her stomach tightened… and she came so hard that Peter looked to the side as her pussy splat more than squirted her syrup into the cocoon of webbing without so much as a single touch from anything save for the air.

Peter heard the noise and looked between her and Jessica, and connected the dots. "…Ah, hell…" he muttered. Neither of them heard him.

When her vision came back, Jessica realized her eyes hadn't even closed. Aracely realized that it hadn't been her hands that were tearing the cushion apart like tissue. They were still trapped in the webbing, trying their hardest to worm toward her pulsating cunt to put out the fire between her legs, but she couldn't even do that much, and suddenly she felt like screaming, and crying. Jessica was bent over the couch, her ass over the arm of it, as a wide, thick arc of frothed up, pent up cunt-cream and viscous, transparent juice ejected behind her while Aracely squeezed her thighs together as she felt the sensations come again, and again, and… her vision went dark.

"There she goes again..." Peter muttered, sidestepping the spray at the last second. He let the condom dangle from his fingertips as he heard Jessica's cum splat wetly against the carpet. He hoped he wouldn't have to pay any cleaning bill, saw the state of the couch, and realized how pointless a hope that was.

The condom, at least, had done its job. It was downright fat, to the point that even he was surprised as he looked at it. But he felt… fine. Better than fine, not that he was surprised considering how much good incest had done for his mood already, but he felt like he'd just gotten an all-expenses-paid spa treatment, had won the lottery, and could get into the ring with Rhino, Norman Osborn, and his merry band of freaks after using Electro as a warmup, and come out on top.

Peter looked down, past his low hanging dick, covered in the fat, chunky looking streaks of nut that hadn't stayed in the condom when he pulled it off, to look at Jessica. ...She wasn't moving. He had left several hot pink and red prints in the fat of her ass while her pussy leaked onto the arm of the couch. One looked particularly bad; he softly grasped at it, feeling as though he should feel bad instead of proud.

The second his hand touched her Jess threw her head back hard, her body having broken out in a fresh layer of cold sweat, her lightly muscled body seizing up from head to toe. Her legs went rigid and her grip on the pillow ripped it completely in two like a piece of paper. Another voiceless scream tore its way out of her throat and ebbed down to the a barely audible sob as her cum died down, leaving just a trickle of her juices to flow out of her. Whoops.

Peter waited until she was done before he laid the condom neatly on the crack of her ass. So, she was fine. And now, he had an idea. Definitely wasn't going to be crowned the best brother of the year any time soon…

His hand struck her cheeks hard, and in that same second, a fresh gush of viscous cunt-syrup to sluice down from her neatly gaped open and quivering twat, but her voice hadn't recovered to make any noise. Peter heard something in his head, rambling and whimpering - it sounded like Aracely and Cindy.

She just wanted to be there for her… she wanted to tell her it was all going to be okay, and that she was good, and she was so proud of them for doing so well… her champions. Her wonderful, amazing champions…

Cindy's voice leaked into Peter's head with increasing volume, and he could hear what she heard, the wet frigging of her fingers rummaging through her juiced up cunt as she moaned that she just wanted to, "Just fucking… lick her fucking clean… God, mash that fucking snatch against my face and make me breathe… glue my fucking mouth there and make me drink you stupid… sexy spider-girl- fuck!"

Aracely thought that was a good idea, apparently, and the two telepaths traded ideas in the form of pictures and emotions and sensations. Aracely grinned dreamily. She… loved her new servants… while Cindy thought that they were, "A bit too uppity for a pair of New Yorkers who'd lost their virginities to their sibling like Alabamians," which Peter thought was a bit uppity for someone who just masturbated to two people having sex, because she couldn't or didn't want to have sex.

"When was the last time you got laid?" Peter asked her. It took a moment for Cindy to reply, unsure if he was actually talking to her. He didn't want to be, but he was because… Peter didn't know. He didn't mind talking to her, not anymore. "Thought so," he said in her silence.

"Well I wouldn't be if you just came back and fucked-" Cindy started, and then fumed. "Oh wait- don't do it- don't you dare- just give me a chance-!" she said, giving the impression that she was raising a finger at him. "Come on, I've been good! Peter -"

Peter checked out of that conversation entirely. It was too early in the day, so he ignored them both and laid his hand on Jessica's ass. She wasn't moving, again. He shook her. Still nothing. He pursed his lips, debating whether or not to smack her again… but there it was, a twitch of her hand. He let out a breath.

"Don't… do that again…" She groaned. And fell silent.

"So," he said, mostly confident she could hear him. "I think we're too young to be parents."

He saw the barest indications of movement as Jessica raised one arm, failed, and then stuck up her thumb.

When she got her senses back, Jessica was less than pleased with him, but less than capable of showing it. "That hurt," she said, kicked weakly at him. She wasn't in any condition to do even that much and he stopped and shoved her back to the couch in a heap.

"No it didn't," he said. She glared at him. "Did it?"

"...No," Jessica managed, slurring. "Just… warn me next time, okay?"

Next time, Peter repeated to himself. That was fine. He felt energy swell up in him as though he could lift a hummer with one hand. Okay, next time. She was thinking ahead and that was fine. One of them needed to. He grinned. "Warn you the next time? Looking forward to it, huh?"

He let her slap his arm. "You yanked it-" Jess hissed at him, looking fierce but sounding cute. Or maybe it was the other way around. "And it's more than you ever do," she shot back, swaying. "Oh God, I think I feel a breeze… feels kinda good."

"What, yanking, or thinking ahead? Because-"

"Just…" she smiled to herself, "shaddup, stupid."

"I can blow on it if that'd make it feel better," he offered, picking her up by the legs.

She scooted away from him flailing a little. "You stay away from there. No- no pussy for you. You're a bad boy, and now you're in time out."

"You gonna enforce that?" She tried and failed, only succeeding in turning over to her back. "That's what I thought."

Peter let her take a few more seconds to get her marbles back together, just in case. He supposed they were satisfied, for the moment. The urge to pick her up and stick her was gone, for now.

"Where is it? The thing?" she eventually asked, and realizing she was talking about the condom, he reached between her legs. She froze up, apparently thinking he was going to frig her until she died… which was an idea, but instead he just grabbed the fat, full condom from between her legs. "Oh," she said, and her eyes widened after a second of looking at it. "…Oh man."

Peter scratched his jaw. "Yeah. That's about… four or five in there, I think. Maybe more?" he wondered out loud.

Jessica swallowed. "Four… or five?" she repeated. "Because of me?" He nodded and she looked a little breathless. "…I think I might have felt six or seven."

Peter shrugged. "Felt good. And I feel... empty. There's more than I thought there'd be, actually," he said, rotating the thing in front of her. The reservoir tip was absolutely bloated, and it more resembled an obtuse, morbidly obese bubble than a condom, it was so jam packed full of carelessly shot away jizz.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw her lick her lips.

"What, already?" he asked. It wasn't like he wasn't capable of going again too - he really could have - but with the harsh looking handprint he'd left on her ass, he'd been under the impression he'd, for lack of better words, beat the cum out of her and that she'd had the better sense to take a break, like him.

Jess shook her head. She looked drunk and high at the same time. "It's- no, I was just-" she started, took a deep breath, pushed the air in an effort to retreat from whatever fog that overtook them both. "I was just wondering, ah… Do you think I could ah… swallow it?" she asked, clearing her throat.

Peter blinked at her. "What?"

"Like, hypothetically! Like if I was a drug mule and I needed to smuggle something over the border-"

He could see her already, belly stuffed full of and pregnant with condoms full of his semen, but… "This is the only thing I'd want to you smuggle over the border," he said, and took a moment to clear his head. "Jess, this is fucking stupid. It's a condom, not a damn donut."

Jessica scooted to the arm of the couch and sat her naked ass there, and Peter wondered if he should leave a few dozen bucks behind for the cleaning bill. Maybe a few hundred, considering. "I know that, just-" she said, and held out her hand. It shook, like the rest of her was, "Just… gimme it. I won't… swallow it."

When he didn't, she tried something different. In his defense, Peter hadn't started to hand it over before she made a mention of sucking on his nuts until he came in her hair. Again. But after she did, well… Even if she regretted it, which she wouldn't, it wouldn't change the fact that she was willing to suckle on his balls just to get to his semen, and that just wasn't the kind of offer his mind could let pass by, even though he was sure she'd do it if he denied her.

He dropped the weighty thing in her hand and watched. Jessica held it up, looking at it cross eyed it was so close, and… she shoved it in her mouth whole, like a greedy squirrel. Peter breathed heavily through his nose as she let out a low moan, feeling the hot and heated mass of thin rubber sit in her mouth. It was so fat it ballooned her cheeks wide. He cursed under his breath at the sight, his cock waking back up as she crept one hand to her chest, and the other between her legs. "Fuck, Jess…"

"Mm-mn," she hummed, shaking her head and looking at him with wide awake, satisfied eyes. He could see her tongue rolling around the condom in her mouth, groping it to feel the nut he'd flung inside of it, rather than her. As she gently ground her teeth down on it and he heard the wet, slimy pop and squelch of jizz escaping rubber, Peter realized she'd taken issue with that.

She slowly reached to her mouth and pulled the now ruined condom out, dropped it, and tried to catch it but was too slow. It hit the carpet with a quiet, wet splat. Then she burped. "S-Hee?" she said, almost proudly, looking up at him and brandishing her teeth and the thick, chunky, almost curd like semen lake beyond them. "Hidn't shwhallow."

Peter didn't know what to do between looking at the ceiling, at her, or down at his cock that hadn't even gotten a chance to go soft yet. He blinked. "You didn't," he said. "…Just hurry up and swallow. I don't want to have to Heimlich you."

She closed her eyes and the fingers between her legs rotated with every little swallow she took, dragging it out, sipping down his hard won ejaculations with a purpose just to get herself off, and for just a second Peter wondered if that was normal. And if it was normal, that he didn't especially care if it was or wasn't, and how exactly it worked. Then, he decided he just didn't care.

Her last swallow was a heavy gulp for her. Peter could hear it in her throat and see the bulge go down. Her legs crossed far more daintily and cute than he thought was possible for a girl who'd wrapped them around his waist and bit his shoulder just to get him to nut up inside her, and she shivered as a final orgasm rocked through her.

She almost fell back onto the couch, but Peter caught her. Felt a little guilty, maybe this was his fault. Maybe he should care, he thought, as he grabbed her back and hand and steadied her. He smelled the thick, somewhat sweet scent of her cum as her fingers locked around his for support, and rolled his eyes. She was smiling and hiccuping like an idiot, her eyes unfocused and as she swayed. Peter would have shoved his tongue down her throat if she wasn't rasping cumbreath into his face.

"That… may have been a mistake," she said, when the sense came back to her. She groaned, grinding ass against the couch. "But it was good… Ah, oh man… you uh… good, or…?" she looked up at him and made to stand up. Peter helped her and she presented her ass to him. "Cause I'm- I think I'm good for another round? Um..."

She gently separated herself from him and bent back over the couch. She spread her ass for him, showing off the mess he'd made of her pussy and making a target of it, as if Peter couldn't see the target she'd made of herself, all for him and without even the pretense of denying it. She was sweaty and glistening, her hair clinging to her face and a satisfied, lazy smile on her lips and her pussy throbbing as she looked over her shoulder at him, swaying her hips for him to come and screw her in like a fucking lightbulb.

But then Peter realized, to his annoyance, that not only was something was probably wrong, but that he was going to have to be the responsible sibling and point it out.

He sighed, feeling like punching himself. "Let's take a break."

The sound of the shower running on cold was all Peter tried to focus on as he knelt in front of Aracely and her chair. Because it was definitely her chair now with the way she had marked it. He'd just been joking about the family dog thing, but he really didn't want to be the people staying in this suite after they left.

Peter had made an brief comment about her being on drugs, because that's what he figured was the problem. Jessica was high, and the tantric hooplah Cindy had told him about had to be affecting her somehow, and in a way that was obviously different from him, since it wasn't like he was being overwhelmed with a desire to… eat his own condoms. Or maybe in his case, to suckle at her cunt while she sat on his face and watched his dick spew all over her feet. Which was a thought... but not one that was making him actually try to make it happen. Yet, at least.

Jess had been too out of it to really understand him, which made him think that a shower was definitely the best idea for her. A cold one.

"What did you say it was?" she called over the din of the shower. "Gah! That's cold!"

Peter shook his head. Since the two of them were done for the time being, he decided to let Aracely out of her little doghouse. As he sawed his fingers through the webbing all he could smell was sex, and even though the so-called family dog was in front of him, it was his sister who was the bitch in heat that needed a cold shower. It was either that he would have to spray her down with ice water to keep her sedate. Maybe he'd punch himself in the balls to keep himself down, but since he knew from experience that his durability fortunately went to his balls, that meant he'd unfortunately have to do it pretty hard. So he wasn't going to bother.

"Pete, what'd you say it was?" Jess called. Peter ignored her just in case he got the urge to hop in the shower with her, again, to help her cool off.

"Be still," he grunted to Aracely, who had been fortunately insensate up until he decided to free her. Then she started to writhe like a stuck fly in a spider's web. There were gleaming pearls of her cum in his webbing as he deftly plucked his is fingers through it, strand by strand from the bottom up. Her feet and legs free, he moved to her arms before he stopped.

"I'm gonna lay some ground rules here, okay?" She was sweaty, and looked as though she'd gone fifty rounds with an industrial strength subwoofer playing heavy bass glued to her crotch, but was awake enough to nod at him. "You're going to stay out of my head. And you're going to stay out of Jessica's head, and we're all going to be three peas in one fucked up pod, alright? But if you ever go into either of our heads," he said, leaning in so far that he could see the reflection of his stone-faced scowl in her eyes.

His voice dropped, and Peter was reminded again that he didn't even sound like himself, not even to his own ears. And he was glad for that. Peter Parker, goody two-shoes nephew of the year, couldn't have pulled this tone of voice off. "You ever go into either of our heads and I'll make you wish I'd left you in that shipping container with the rest of the corpses. Got it?"

…That was a lie. He wouldn't do that, he couldn't - she had been through too much already as it was, and he drew the line at intimidating a human-trafficking survivor who had, maybe, been tossed away by her family for being a mutant. Maybe not, but Peter crossed that line to make a point: that he didn't care what had happened when the truth was that he just didn't want to care, and didn't want to know. If shit hit the fan, some church or convent would be getting a surprise present from the Surly Ass Spider-Stork in the form of a teenaged mutant narcoleptic telepath.

But she didn't need to know that. And Peter had enough experience with Cindy to keep her out of his head if really came down to that.

Aracely pointed at her mouth, not answering because he left her mouth webbed shut. Peter felt a little stupid annoyed, as he scrubbed the sticky white stuff away from a section of her lips. Before she started to speak, emphatically he was sure, he covered that. "Nod if you understand me." She nodded. "Good girl. I'm going to open your mouth now-"

"You can open me, my Champion…" he heard in his head, and chose to ignore it. Obviously, she needed to be house trained.

Peter plucked the webbing from her mouth with practiced ease, and as soon as he dropped it into the pile that had formed on the floor, Aracely kissed him. Her tongue rushed into his mouth and collided with his teeth, slid off of them and fell sloppily against his own writhing to wrestle with it as she mashed her nose and mouth against his before he had enough sense to pull away.

"What did I just say?!"

"Pero no puedo hablar tu idioma. ¿Cómo me entenderás si...?"she said in Spanish, but he heard it in perfect English in his head.

"Don't care!"

"Pero solo quiero-"

"-And I don't care," he said, getting back into her face. "Look, what part of that don't you get? You stay out of my head - that is one rule. You can do that much."

She looked like she was about to cry. "Please?" she asked, and Peter's face screwed up into a grimace. For some reason, he felt guilty. People with powers to just go into other people's minds and do anything, yet he was the bad guy. He was intimidating - or trying to - a girl who'd been swimming with the recently decomposed, after all. The Parkers must have been so, so proud of their son. Their nephew, too…

He scoffed, but still caved, because he didn't want her to actually listen to him if the time came for her not to. "If it's an emergency, then fine. But only an emergency-"

"... ¿Por qué llamas a Peter 'Jessica'?"

"Okay, this really isn't an emergency…" Peter groaned. "That's her name. Jessica. Not… Peter," he said, and when he closed his eyes he saw the rest of the Parker family's extended circus act, who were now out to pasture. All four of them.

"Pero ella eres tú," Aracely replied. "Ella se siente como tú-"

"Look, I really don't give two shakes of a rat's ass what things feel like to you," he said honestly. "Jessica is… Jess." He pointed at the bathroom, and then at himself. As he did he saw his own reflection in the TV, naked, and annoyed, and scowling down at a little girl - little in comparison to him, anyway - and looking like Peter Parker's bigger, mean older brother. "And I'm…" he trailed off, looking at himself. "I'm someone completely different," he said. "Understand?"

Aracely nodded. "Jessica es Jess, no Peter. Y Peter es ... yo. No me siento como tú," she said, silently giggling. He rolled his eyes. Now she was a comedian. Great. "Peter, ¿por qué te portas tan mal conmigo? ¿Como si no te importara? No eres una persona mala, eres amable. No me lastimarás porque no quieres lastimarme."

"No, I'm not," he said, a little indignant. "I'm an asshole. I like being an asshole and I can hurt you."

It was obvious to him that she didn't understand, because she shifted over to 'talking' to him. "Not on purpose!" Peter sighed. That was the problem. "I know you're not going to hurt me," she… thought at him."You saved me. You're my Champion-"

"You don't know that, so stop calling me that."

"But it's true!" Aracely replied with a frown. "Hombre Arana. Escarlata Arana! Mi Campeon! I saw you, heard stories of you! You are a good person and you care for me. And you wouldn't hurt me. Not on purpose. You would save me if I was in trouble."

Peter twitched. Would he? Trying just wasn't good enough when it came down to it - he either would or he wouldn't, and wouldn't would become couldn't, and he couldn't be bothered to write another name on the list of dead people he'd let down. He didn't want her to get her hopes up.

"Listen, you're gonna live a lot longer if you stop thinking like that. I'm not your champion, and you don't need one. I'm not going to be there to save you if something bad happens or if you do something stupid and get into trouble- again. Because that's not going to happen. I'm not going to save you because you don't and you won't need saving. You won't need me. Nothing is going to happen to you, you're not going to die, so just… stop with this 'champion' crap."

A look of understanding flashed on her face, she was quiet for a moment, and then she whispered in his head, "Peter?"

"God… What?"

"Who is Gwen?"

Peter smacked himself in the forehead and stood up. So much for keeping his thoughts in a noose. He turned his back to her but Aracely raced around to face him and almost tripped from the effort. He caught her easily and held her at arm's length, too aware that she was just as naked as he was where it mattered. She looked up at him, worried. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- it's just you were sad- and I heard the memories outside you and-"

He made some excuse about it being a musician that he didn't like, that he didn't want the songs in his head if she brought it up again, so she shouldn't bring it up again. It sounded like bullshit even to him, because it was, but between the vague impression that Cindy was just shaking her head and that Aracely didn't very much believe him, he still didn't very much care. One of his least favorite activities, a tête-à-tête with someone who could read minds, aside, his mood was significantly better than it had been. Didn't especially want to sour that because he'd started thinking about a dead girl more than was absolutely necessary.

Aracely looked up at him and smiled softly, like he was the dog and she was the one taking care of it. Taking care of him, which made him want to hiss like a cat. "Okay," she said, smiling at him. "…Thank you, Peter."

"Yeah, yeah," Peter bristled, but it was mostly for show - was going to need more practice at being mean. He shooed her away into the kitchen, telling her to go eat - which she listened to implicitly, apparently tired from her no-hands cum and voyeur session. He didn't bother to tell her to put some pants on. Not like she would have listened anyway.

Considering everything, the cleaning bill and repairs was going to be big enough already, so what was a few hundred dollars more? And especially if it was on someone else's paycheck, he didn't mind in the slightest. If there was one thing he'd learned from Cindy and Ezekiel, it was that. So he sighed and sat down on the couch, tuned everything out, and closed his eyes.

He'd had this dream - Jess had asked him if he'd had any bad ones and he'd said no. Hadn't been lying. She just hadn't asked him if he'd had any good dreams, because it wasn't as though he had a running trend with those. It wasn't one of those, either. It was just the kind that was enough to wake him up that morning.

He'd been back in Queens again, and that much was common enough. But where things usually turned bad - him walking up to the door and no one answering him, the door shutting in his face, or everyone just walking away from him - or the dead coming out of the ground and dragging his ass down to hell. This wasn't any of that. He'd been in his room, exactly as he'd left it. With MJ. With Gwen, only it wasn't her. Her teeth were too long and too sharp and her tongue had been wrapped around his neck, just like the thing he had killed after it had murdered her. Because of him.

His dumb ass was, happy on the bed with the both of them, looking like he used to. The Gwen-Thing's tongue dove into his mouth, and they were kissing. He'd seen that before, and that was where the dreams would have usually taken a bad turn, but then he was in the doorway, watching it all and appearing how he was now: Peter Parker's bigger, meaner older brother, stood in the doorway to the bedroom. He could see from both places, how his eyes were glowing red. And then he was choking himself, choking Gwen. Someone screamed. It sounded like Aunt May.

Peter had woken up and dipped out of Dodge to leave that dream in the dust. He was feeling too good now, but that hadn't felt like just a dream. And of all the things he ever thought he'd have to worry about, visions of the future for something that was impossible wasn't something he ever expected to complain about. It was just a stupid, pointlessly cryptic dream. Yet another way for his mind to mess with him because for once, he was feeling better.

But what if it wasn't impossible?

His mind ran a mile a minute, going places he didn't want it to go, thinking about things he wanted to leave months in the past where they belonged. Thinking about the others - about Quasimodo, and Tarantula, and 'Richard Parker Jr.', and the whole fucking circus act that had taken his life and kicked it across the field like a soccer ball.

…There were just two things missing from that lineup: the thing that killed Gwen… and the first clone, the one with the scorpion tail. The only one Peter hadn't seen die because he'd dropped him off at the F4's place like a good little moron. The one that he had just figured Sue didn't have the heart to tell him that a Peter Parker had turned into dust in the wind like a science project, because that was all he was, apparently. That's all any of them were.

Peter was absolutely still as Cindy's voice filtered in through the steel wall he had put up around his mind. It was lowered just enough for her voice to seep in. She sounded sorry, and that was just great, because being sorry had solved every single one of his problems so far. "…I tried to tell you."

Peter wanted to shout at her and say that she didn't. That she didn't try at all to say anything. Not from the second she'd seen him with Ezekiel's blood on his hands. But who could blame her at that point? Who could blame her for being angry? Not him - he couldn't, hadn't and never had. All he wanted to do was to get away. To keep running and leave his problems behind. To abandon all responsibility for them, careless of whether or not anyone else would pick up the slack. And apparently, someone had.

"Look, I'm sorry-" Cindy said, and Peter let her talk, though he wasn't especially listening. "I am sorry and I have been sorry all this time. I tried- you wouldn't listen-" she laughed weakly, trying to play it off. "You got really good at keeping me out, you know? It's impressive- people don't just do that, you know. They can't, and- and you were the only person I had to talk to and I've been alone- and sorry and just-"

There was a table in front of the couch with complimentary magazines and the remote to the TV. Peter picked it up, turned on the television, and wondered what channel the news was on.

Cindy let out a defeated sigh. "Channel 7."

He thanked her and, as calm as the grave, he slowly clicked down from the hundreds of channels until he got there. He watched it without saying a thing, even as the door to the bathroom open and Jess stepped out.

"Did you say it was tantric? Like tantric sex?" she asked, walking up to him and slinging a towel around her neck. There wasn't much point in covering herself. She walked up behind him, seeing him watch TV. "Pete-"

Then she stopped.

"Footage from the what was first suspected to be a bombing on the Houston Medical Center yesterday has many now speculating that it could have been a mutant attack," the news anchor said. "In a brief press conference last night Mayor Reilly urged residents to not jump to conclusions and to withhold judgement until the investigation has been concluded:"

The feed cut to a conference room with flashing cameras and a woman at the center - Mayor Reilly. Peter laughed, but it died in his throat. At least she didn't look like Aunt May.

The video had already started to play. "-we don't know yet," the mayor said, "But the safety and wellbeing of the city is our top priority - not fear," she said. "Wild speculation won't do us any good. Fear won't do us any good. Gratitude will. Regardless of who was responsible in the attack, no lives were lost today, and we have the brave and selfless men and women of our Police Department, Fire Department, and everyone who risked their lives to get the injured out of danger to thank for that."

She cleared her throat. "And, of course, the brave and selfless - some might even say shameless-" the reporters in the crowd all laughed at that, "Actions of the two individuals who arrived in time to ensure that no lives lost stayed no lives lost."

Peter scoffed. Jessica walked to his side and leaned on the back of the couch next to him. The video cut off just as a reporter called out, "Mayor Reilly, have you received any word on whether or not that was actually Spider-Man yesterday -!" and the feed returned to the anchor.

"The footage surfacing from yesterday morning has quickly made rounds on social media, with several videos having gone viral. The two masked superhumans sighted stopping the assailant have quickly been dubbed the 'Scarlet Spiders' online, and many discussions have revolved around the same thing: Who are the Scarlet Spiders?"

Two videos played side by side on the screen. On the left Peter saw a video from streetlevel as he two flaming bodies crashed the eighth story window: the Salamander wrapped on by Peter's own bludgeoning fists with Jessica close behind.

The news anchor's voice played over the one on the right, which was a scene from Manhattan. Peter recognized it: West 81st street. Two bodies crashed through a fifth story window a split second before an explosion: a screaming man wrapped in the arms of someone dressed in red and blue spandex.

"And what relation do they have with the real life movie star, vigilante, and suspected mutant from Manhattan, Spider-Man?"

Spider-Man slowed their fall to street level, dropped the man off, and swung off. The video was timestamped for early yesterday morning - just before school, Peter distantly realized. And here he was, figuring that he'd just dropped out of school all this time. Figured wrong, evidently.

The plastic of the remote creaked and groaned in his hand before he put it down. The cleaning bill was big enough, he decided. Besides, there might be something better on TV. Not like there was a high bar to hurdle.

He started clicking through the channels again, completely silent, and Jess watched the screen, putting her chest against his back and her hands folded on his head and her chin atop them. Even after Peter turned it off, neither of them said anything. Neither of them moved. He looked at their reflections in the TV and they were joined by Aracely, walking up with a burger in one and fries in the other, her face covered in crumbs.

Peter started to laugh. Talk about a circus act. "Well... Shit."

Jess smacked her lips. "You okay?"

He shrugged. For the moment, he didn't feel anything, just… a dull, seeping sense of realization. Just for the moment. Had a feeling it'd bite into him soon enough. "Yeah," he said. "I'm good."

Jessica tucked her hair behind her ears, looking into his eyes. "Good," she said, nodding after a moment. "Good."

"Could use a drink though."

"Rootbeer only," she said.

Let's get dressed," he said, nodding ad standing stood up. Jess followed him and got in front, the both of them as naked as the day they were born. "I know just the place," he said. "Think it has rootbeer. Has coffee, at least."

"We're too young for coffee," she pointed out. "How about tea?"

"I hate tea."

"I know," Jessica said, smiling to herself. "This place, does it rhyme with car?"

"Maybe."

Jessica rolled her eyes as she stepped inside. He watched her go, his eyes glued to the sway of her ass, and then he noticed Aracely watching them, but not moving. He looked at her, then the TV, and shrugged before taking a breath and waving her in. She beamed at him and skipped to him and past, right into Jessica, hugging her. Peter watched her go too, how her body shook and jiggled, and looked down. He was hard again. He nodded to himself, stepped into the bedroom, and shut the door behind him.

Aracely cheered.

A/N: April Fools!