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Under New Management: Peter tells Felicia to masturbate while she watches them.
🕑 Added 2023-08-29 21:59:01 +0000 UTCPeter webbed Felicia, instantly sticking her to the wall by her feet, her throat, and one wrist. She almost opened her mouth to object, but there was something in Peter she hardly recognized that silenced her. A darkness, thick and sensual, that she knew she’d brought out of him by savoring it so often.
By encouraging him to greater and greater dominance, more and more obscenity, both her and Mary Jane wanting these orgies that he had once been too neurotic for. And now they’d created a monster—a satyr that could finally satisfy all their desires, even their most unspoken. Things they were barely willing to admit to, much less enjoy.
“You’re going to watch us,” he told her. “And you’re going to touch yourself. No complaints or I’m webbing your mouth shut. You keep being a pain after that, I’ll blindfold you. Then you can just listen to Mary Jane come. And I know you’d rather watch.”
Felicia could’ve moaned—it felt so sensuous to feel his eyes burning hotly into her naked body when she had no choice in the matter, when all she could do was let him enjoy her—but she was so afraid of offending him that she kept in even that lustful noise. Knowing that soon, she wouldn’t have a choice.
Her mouth gaped open when she saw Mary Jane pull Peter into her arms, crushing her full tits against his chest. Heat started in Felicia: flushing at the base of her neck and sparking down in the pit of her groin.
Peter didn’t fuck her and he didn’t let MJ fuck herself. Instead he ground himself against her, slowly, evenly, making Mary Jane shudder and groan as his throbbing cock rolled across her womanhood but didn’t go in. His arms around her back, fingers drawing playful circles on the creamy skin, while Mary Jane’s hands were behind Peter as well, feeling the firm muscles that ran down his body. Both of them luxuriating in each other. Enjoying themselves without urgency because they knew there was no end to the delights of their union.
From where she was trapped, allowed only to watch and treat the lust her voyeurism left her with, Felicia saw Mary Jane’s mouth buried in Peter’s neck. With a hot open mouth she kissed the scarred skin and hardened muscle that Felicia could recall from memory, her sex yearning for the sensations that MJ was calling up just by relishing Peter so openly. God, Felicia could almost taste what Mary Jane was tasting, feel what she was touching…
Peter held MJ even closer now, one of his hands moving up to rove in that fiery red hair. Mimicking how her tresses touched the delicate sweep in back of her neck and the freckled roll of her shoulders. His fingers ran through the crimson strands like they were the most sensual thing he’d ever touched, like Peter could barely stand to reach through them and touch Mary Jane’s bare flesh without being overwhelmed.
This was unbelievable! Felicia’s mind reeled in shock and disbelief, watching Mary Jane’s breasts flattened against Peter’s hard-muscled chest, imagining how it felt to have them heaving with each breath, only to be met by the walls of his pectorals.
MJ’s tits were pert and virtually sculpted in their shapeliness, but Felicia’s were just as perky and so big they were their own erogenous zones. Scintillating with feelings as they bobbed up and down with her rushed breath. Felicia would’ve paid any amount of money for someone to just touch them… she had to do it herself. Even if it meant admitting that she was getting off on her torment.
Peter shot another web, this one hitting the light switch and darkening the room so that illumination only came in through the windows and the glow of household appliances’ little lights. Felicia gritted her teeth. She knew this was Peter teasing her. She hadn’t broken any rules, but it still amused him to punish her—he was turning her on with his little game, enjoying that, but still delighting in Mary Jane instead of playing with her! God!
Still she watched. Peter moved closer, which seemed impossible without entering Mary Jane, but he didn’t let her have his cock yet. He pressed in, pushed his downcast shaft against Mary Jane’s sex, actually split her labia with its girth. But his cock was forced down between his legs, not aimed at her—the tip didn’t go in, so the rest of his length couldn’t follow. Mary Jane could only mewl as she ground against the hard flesh set within her opening but not piercing her.
Felicia felt an anger build in her stomach. She hated how turned on she was, but couldn’t wholly loathe anything that felt so good. Even if it could feel so much better.
Peter kicked the belt of his Spider-Man costume up from off the ground. He set it on a nearby table, flicked the light on, and projected his logo right onto Felicia like the beam of a flashlight. Felicia looked down. Of course, her bare cunt gleamed in the scarlet light, looking redder and more vivid than it ever had been in real life. As aroused as she felt but could sometimes hide.
“Look at her, Red,” Peter cooed, kissing Mary Jane’s neck as he held her face pointed Felicia’s way. “She’s watching you. Worshipping you with her eyes. She wants your tits… your ass… your body… She wants me to touch her like I’m touching you. And she wants to feel you like I’m feeling you. Look. She can’t hold her hips still. She’s fucking the air, flexing her thighs together, trying to get what you have.”
“God, tiger!” Mary Jane moaned, now deliberately rubbing against Peter, getting off on the friction that Felicia was denied. “You’re going to be too much for me someday.”
“You’re putting on such a show for her,” Peter husked in her ear. “Tell me you don’t like being watched.”
“I like being watched,” Mary Jane purred right back. “Fuck, she’s as wet as I am. I can smell it.”
“She’s a little whore. I can caress you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and you’ll get hot—but you’re not a slut like her. She gets wet just looking at us.”
“And I get wet having her watch me. Having you watch me.” Mary Jane sighed with pure lust. “Would you like to see me fuck her?”
Felicia growled. Teeth clamped together to hold in her begging for that. Or to curse MJ for using her as a plaything when she wanted Peter, she wanted her Spider so bad—who was this bitch to say no to that cock so she could play games?
Maybe Felicia was the one addicted to that prick and Mary Jane, she could be all about the fun, the sex, the lust, the passion… she could enjoy Peter’s cock without it being in her… shit, Felicia wondered if she could grow to love Peter that much. She was a possessive kitten. Always was, always had been. But she feared how good MJ’s touch would feel after she’d been teased so painstakingly.
“I told her to play with herself,” Peter reminded his wife.
“Oh, I think she’s going to do that one way or another. We’ve turned her on so much that too much isn’t enough. Now we let her know how much she loves it…”
