Felicia was walking through the corridors after slipping out of her latest class the moment she had signed the attendance sheet, a bored expression on her face.
She hated spending time in college, aware that her marketing degree would have been worth nothing to her true career. Not only she had enough money left by her absentee father if she wished, enough to completely remove any need to work, but she was also a thief accomplished enough to easily earn seven figures with every heist.
Not that she stole for such … pedestrian reasons. She was an artist, working for the thrill of it, even though her latest debacle with the Kingpin's men had shown that sometimes the excitement got too much.
Luckily, she had her own knight white armor to save her — well, red and blue pajamas more likely, but she had forgiven him after he had displayed none of the muscles was actually padding.
She had paid greatly for that rescue attempt once he decided to take her offer of carnal payment, not that she had any complaints about that.
She enjoyed every second of it, especially once Spider proved that, while he might be a goodie-two-shoes in public, using his powers for the public good rather than personal benefit, that aspect certainly didn't extend to the bedroom.
Or other places, she added, remembering the way he took her against the railings in the museum, before making her complete the heist wearing nothing but her mask.
Even remembering his domineering aura as he did so was enough to make her shiver in pleasure.
No wonder she was having trouble getting even the slightest enjoyment from the college. Pity her public role made her occasional attendance fundamental, which, unfortunately, did nothing to address her boredom.
Unlike the sudden moan that hit her ear, female, and distinctly carnal. It was a suppressed one, but Felicia had much sharper senses compared to others, enough to immediately pinpoint the target the third door from the right.
As a famous cat burglar, she didn't need to fiddle with the door to notice it was locked, which meant whoever was responsible for the morning quickie showed more foresight than the average jock.
If she fiddled with the door, it created the risk of being noticed. Too bad for them, for someone like her, there was no room that was inaccessible once her curiosity was triggered.
She quickly slipped to the next classroom, which was equally empty at this time, and reached the window. She paid a quick glance outside, making sure there was no security cam that was pointing at her, or any inconvenient passerby that would record her.
She had already mapped the school several times for the location of every single recording device, of course, but she tried to play it safe nonetheless.
Overconfidence was a deadly trait for a thief.
She glanced around before she grabbed the window still, quickly moving horizontally until she reached a convenient nook, one that would hide her from every passerby while also allowing her to peek into the class from a corner.
She raised her head slowly, though as she got the first glimpse, it was only her great experience as a thief that prevented her from gasping in shock. It wasn't the nudity of the people in the classroom that made Felicia want to gasp — though she was still expecting a rolled-up skirt, not discarded jeans, which implied a great deal of confidence.
Nor it was the current state of their coitus, as the suppressed moan she had heard earlier was rather indicative of the situation.
No, it was about the identity of the students. Well, one of them in particular.
Mary Jane Watson, the standoffish rose of the school.
"Not so untouched now, are you?" Felicia murmured in fascination as she raised her phone and took a few quick photos before turning her focus back on the free show she was receiving.
It wasn't that Felicia had any altercation with Mary Jane. On the contrary, she might have even liked her if the way she walked, easily jumping in and out of social situations while the same took Felicia's all efforts to fake.
She hated dealing with the crowds, and seeing her easily handling them while keeping them away had always made Felicia jealous. She had always given an untouched, pristine aura.
An aura there was nowhere to be seen as she was bent over to a desk, her flowing red hair grasped by the boy that was busy dominating her thoroughly.
Felicia didn't pay much attention to the boy. He was handsome, certainly, with an amazing body, but clearly, he was still a little boy, far from enough to handle a true firecracker like her.
After all, Mary Jane might be a popular school beauty, but she was the one and only Black Cat.
There was only one man that could treat her the way Mary Jane was currently being treated.
Of course, just because she wouldn't let a young man like that touch her didn't mean Felicia wasn't having fun watching Mary Jane getting the royal treatment, her usually kind and distant face flooded with enough pleasure to cut her connection with reality.
She let her fingers drift down, flicking open her own jeans and slipping her fingers into her panties, the pleasure that filled her body simply phenomenal as she did so.
It wasn't the first time Felicia watched others having sex, as being a voyeur was rather an easy fetish to develop for a renowned thief, but that didn't mean the moment she stumbled was not unique.
Felicia had always had an appreciation toward the female form, and stumbling over someone as amazing as Mary Jane was rare, and stumbling one that wasn't working as an escort paired with an old and rich man that didn't have the slightest idea how to treat such beauty was even rarer.
Especially since, as she watched, she realized that MJ's unnamed partner was one of the rare young men that knew domineering sex was much more than just sticking in and ramming as hard as one could manage.
No, a proper fucking was no different than dance, following the invisible rhythm of the female arousal, requiring quick parts and slow lingering touches alternatively before the great crescendo — which was the point the man required to abandon all the subtlety and mercilessly drill his lady.
And Mary Jane's expression, filled with the most honest display of pleasure Felicia had ever seen, showed that her partner was more than aware of that rhythm, and was currently at the later stage.
Even then, Felicia was surprised to watch him pull back just as Mary Jane was about to reach her orgasm, replacing it with her fingers. "Peter, please—" she gasped, which was all she was able to say when the boy grabbed her discarded panties, and stuffed them into her mouth.
Felicia felt her core moisten even as she watched the show. He was nowhere near her Spider, of course, but still impressive.
Especially the size that was revealed as he pulled back, which was almost enough to compete.
Too bad for him that Spider had finally decided to take the plunge — and very memorably — which meant she had no place for other men. It would have been fun to steal him for a couple rounds from MJ, which triggered her thief instincts.
Well, she shrugged dismissively. A thief needed to know where to stop.
That didn't mean she stopped watching, of course.
Peter smiled as he let his fingers dance on MJ's entrance for a while, keeping her on the edge as her moans got more and more intense, doing his best not to make eye contact with Felicia.
He was aware of her presence since she first got close to the door as the Spider-Sense alerted him to the presence of a familiar observer. The coincidence amused him, especially since Felicia wasted no time to come and watch them.
She did so quite skillfully, which didn't come as a surprise for Peter considering her alter ego. Too bad that she was trying to compete against him — and without knowing about him being Spider-Man.
It didn't surprise Peter. Even though she had the opportunity to see his mostly-naked body during their earlier encounters, she didn't realize his identity. It was the whole reason secret identities worked.
People didn't just compare every single person they saw to superheroes to see if their outlines matched. Well, not everyone, as there was a considerable number of conspiracy theorists on the web doing exactly that, but luckily, the number of false positives they generated was more than enough to invalidate their occasional success.
Peter reached for his phone once more, which he had been using to take pictures of MJ. He pulled back for a moment, earning a disappointed moan from MJ before flipping her over. "Smile, beautiful," he said even as he took an amazing photo of hers, the light glistening over her perfect breasts enough to turn that into a masterpiece when combined with her expression.
Yet, from a technical perspective, it was a ruined photo, owing to a little photo bomb at the corner, platinum blonde hair — which was different enough from the pure white it looked while she was in costume — and a beautiful panicked face.
The little kitty cat was just caught in the picture, and even without her clothing. Peter just smirked as she pulled away, but her presence was still there.
He couldn't wait until she attempts to take his camera back. But before, he had a more important thing to focus on.
"Smile, MJ," he said cheekily as he pointed the camera to her face, taking more and more photos, determined not to waste such a beautiful opportunity to make …
Art.