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Spider-Man: Baton
🕑 Added 2023-06-28 14:59:01 +0000 UTCMary Jane looked beautiful in her majorette uniform. The shiny black outfit gloved her ass, showing that while it had taken on water since she’d actually been the teenage twirler her clothes held her out as, the extra centimeter or so of plush flesh had only made her outfit tighter and thus more sensual. It was low-cut and her breasts pushed it out—firmed and swollen from her pregnancy to the point that she’d had a few ask her if she hadn’t gotten implants.
Like she could afford them when they had little May’s college fund to worry about.
She wore a white majorette cap with a tassel. A black vinyl strap ran across her cheeks and hooked under her chin. Her white boots were shiny enough to be new. Her long red hair hung in a braid. She had it mostly up, hidden by the hat, though fiery red bangs showed just under the shiny black bill.
Peter was on the phone to her. “I wish I could make it home for dinner, but I’ve got all these papers to grade and then the Avengers want me… I’d lose an hour getting home, then going to the Mansion, and it’s blowing out my brain just making sure none of these essays were written by ChatGPT—tomorrow evening, okay? I’ll show the kids a movie… something in space, that’s science-y. I’ll be home by five, we can look at how cute the baby is, watch a movie, get a pizza for old time’s sake…”
“That sounds great, tiger. But the thing is, I want to see my husband tonight.”
“I’ll try and speed-run the Avengers thing. Promise.”
She hung up on him. Even from out in the hall, she heard Peter groan. Mary Jane stepped carefully, not wanting her white boots to echo through the empty corridors. She tip-toed as best she could to the classroom door, looking through its glass window to see Peter at his desk. Papers spread before him. He was looking at his phone despondently, beginning to call her back, then setting the phone down and standing up to pace and massage his temples.
Mary Jane recognized the body language. Peter was trying to figure out how to make things up to her now that he’d disappointed her once again. Once—before they were married—she’d worried about having a husband who was constantly on-call. Pulled between his marital duties to her and his responsibilities to seemingly everyone else. The civilians he had to protect, the kids he had to educate… even the villains he considered it his purview to make sure were locked up safe and sound in the Raft.
It was only later that Mary Jane realized what a blessing it was to be married to a man who would always try to make up for his shortcomings with her. Never protesting that it wasn’t his fault or calling her needy. Peter was a man with a duty to her and he loved his job.
She had a duty to him too. She had to let him know that she saw how much he cared for her and that she appreciated. That no matter how late he got home, she was never disappointed in him. Because he was still Peter Parker and no one else could possibly live up to that.
And so she stepped into the classroom, shutting the door behind her and pulling down the shade. “Hello, Mr. Parker.”
Peter froze, looking at her wide-eyed, like she’d actually made her way there before he could call her back just to yell at him in person. “Mary Jane, what are you doing here?”
“After school, you mean?” Mary Jane flashed him her winning smile. “I know you have such important work to do, Mr. Parker, but I have to find my baton. I left it around here somewhere. I can’t find it anywhere!”
Peter’s eyes roamed her lovely body. He couldn’t help but notice that the tight black uniform that might’ve been modest on her sylphlike teenage self now showed her in the full bloom of womanhood. The push of her breasts, the tight thinness where the seat of her pants spread to encompass all of her thick ass. Her beautiful face that had only grown more radiant, more charismatic, as she laid aside her insecurities and fully embraced that she’d been lucky enough to snare such a wonderful man.
Mary Jane saw Peter’s reaction to her. It pushed out the crotch of his slacks. She let her mouth drop open, faking her shock at the size of him, but only a little.
“I think I found it, Mr. Parker. Is that it there?”
She approached him, letting each striding strut make her body jiggle, little quivers in her cleavage and hips that she knew Peter couldn’t miss. His erection leapt around, throbbing in his pants like a cannon about to go off. Mary Jane beamed a smile at it, then looked up from it to Peter’s handsome face.
“I have a wife, you know,” Peter whispered, unable to hold in the storm of emotion he felt looming over him. He could only direct it the right way. “A very, very beautiful wife… she puts up with a lot…”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind,” Mary Jane replied, basking in his praise even through their role-playing. “After all, if we get caught, they’d fire you. You could spend all your time at home with her.”
“That’s a good point,” Peter said. “You’re sure she wouldn’t mind me having a fling with a younger woman?”
“Of course not. I think it would really turn her on…”
Mary Jane trembled excitably. Seeing Peter in his conservative suit, his Oxford shirt and tie, his brogues and wool pants… all the reasonably priced but (her insistence) fashionable wear he’d put on to make everyone mistake him for a stuffy academic instead of possible Spider-Man material… it all helped her get into the fantasy.
She felt like she was a schoolgirl again, with her most handsome teacher acting out something from the naughtier side of her imagination. Only this fantasy wouldn’t draw a whine from the biggest puritan, because there was nothing really taboo, no boundaries being broken. It was just her and someone she’d found that she trusted implicitly. He could fulfill any fantasy she had. Just as Mary Jane was happy to have the starring role in any wet dream he could possibly have.
Peter took her hand and pulled her in. Her lithe body pressed against him. She felt his rigid muscles, flexing and twitching with all their power as his hands went behind her. He held her even closer. The strength in him was like a furnace. He could rip off her clothes with a pinky. Mary Jane felt herself swooning. Her head drifted back, offering up her pink lips. Peter leaned down and kissed them. His erection pulsing at her belly.
She shuddered. So did he. Both breathed heavily as Peter’s hand skated down the back of Mary Jane’s figure and over the curve of her ass. MJ felt his heart rattling his chest. He could lift a pick-up truck without breaking a sweat, but with her, he couldn’t catch his breath. His hand took a grip of her tight, round flank like he was holding onto something more precious than gold.
“Not here,” he said. “The faculty restroom. I have the key and we don’t have to worry about the janitor.”
“Do you think we should?” Mary Jane asked, back to playing the innocent schoolgirl. She directed a coquettish look up into Peter’s face. “Gosh, Mr. Parker…”
He led her by the hand to the men’s faculty toilet, just a little ways down the hall, and yanked Mary Jane inside. He locked the door behind them.
“I suppose you know best. You are the teacher, after all.” Mary Jane batted her eyelashes.
“God, MJ, you’re going to give me a complex. I have to teach majorettes, you know. Cheerleaders, too.”
“And you have to come home to me,” Mary Jane pointed out. “If Black Cat can’t tempt you, I’m not worried about some barely legal twirler.”
“I wish I could say that ‘not tempted’ part is entirely accurate…”
She tittered. Put her hand to his handsome face with the hangdog expression set so familiarly to his features. A face used to brooding, a brow used to being knitted. And it lit up like a firecracker with her touching it.
“I’m not worried about you straying, Peter. And it’s not because I’m some sex goddess—“
“You are, though…”
“It’s because you’re amazing. My mother, she always used to say ‘keep their balls empty and their bellies full.’ That’s how you got a man to stay with you. You’re not like that. I don’t have to bribe you or trick you. You love me. You. Love. Me.”
She felt the muscles in his cheek twitch as he formed a smile for her. “Believe it, pretty lady.”
“So, I’m going to keep your balls empty because I just really, really like the idea.”
“And because you can’t cook,” Peter quipped.
Mary Jane affected a childish pout. “I promise I’ll study harder in Home Ec, Mr. Parker,” she said in her breezy, little-girl voice. “Maybe you could talk to my teacher? Don’t let him give me a bad grade.”
Peter grinned, unable to fight it from his face, and lifted his own voice into a stentorian tone. “Well, Miss Watson, you can’t expect to get good grades for bad work. Maybe if you could show me that you were really trying, that you’re really doing whatever it takes to pass your course…”
He led MJ to a toilet stall. “In here.” Inside, he shut the door and latched it. The smallness of the stall forced them close together.
“Gee, Mr. Parker, do you want to kiss me again?”
“I would,” Peter said with a wolfish grin. “I would.”
He kissed her, again gripping her creamy ass. Simultaneously caressing it and using his hold on it to force her against his body. His erection was hard as stone between them. He took a hand off her ass and slid it down her belly, stopping to rub at her sex.
“Ahh! Ooohh!” Mary Jane panted, breaking away from the kiss to let out all her swooning vocalizations.
“You feel good, MJ. Even through your clothes, you feel so good.”
She could feel how hot he was. As always, Mary Jane loved the effect she had on him. Knowing his arousal would lead to incredible sexual satisfaction. And knowing that she could fully handle the superhero, even at his most passionate.
“I could help out with your grades,” Peter whispered in her ears.
“Gosh, do you mean it?”
“Sure. I could put all As on your report card. It wouldn’t matter what you scored on any test.”
Mary Jane could barely suppress a grin at the silly little game. “All As?” she moaned lustfully.
“Uh-huh.”
“Golly!”
“You could get into any college in the country,” Peter purred in her ear. “Your grades are so important.”
“I know they are, sir.”
“But you can’t tell anyone about our deal. If you did, all those As would go back to being Fs.”
“They’re Ds,” Mary Jane pouted. “I’m not dumb.” She gave him an air-headed bimbo look. Mary Jane couldn’t say she had much in common with her character, except that just like the schoolgirl, she was Peter’s. All his, to do as he pleased.
The schoolgirl she playacted was too dumb to know better, but in real life? She was his because she didn’t want to be anyone else’s.
“What do I have to do?” she asked coyly. “Would I have to touch your cock?”
“Yes,” Peter said.
“And let you touch me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But then I’d get all As on my record card.”
“Well… I guess my parents would want me to do anything to get good grades…”
