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Under New Management: Felicia Follows Instructions
🕑 Added 2023-03-10 16:24:02 +0000 UTCYou wouldn’t think it’d get boring, a woman with a body like Felicia’s going naked, but with no one around to appreciate her—well, there was only so much she could appreciate herself. And she was slightly too classy to actually call Peter’s bluff and go outside while totally naked.
While she wasn’t immune to the charms of staying inside and curling up with a book—watching TV—taking a bath—touching herself—Felicia couldn’t really focus on boring niceties like those when she was naked! Dominated! Just waiting for Peter to get home for her life to spring into whatever erotic reward he’d devised for her anticipation to…
Reward—wait—she hadn’t actually done whatever stupid thing he wanted from her, had she? Grousing to herself, Felicia went about doing the laundry. She went over and above that, just to be sure she’d put Peter at ease and show that there were no hard feelings.
She cleaned the apartment and fixed a meal she left simmering in the slow cooker. She would’ve hoped that Peter would be back by the time she was finished, but still nothing. This whole situation was supposed to humiliate her; didn’t he realize how much that would turn her on?
She sat down on one of the wooden chairs that Parkers’ apartment was furnished with. The feel of the wood pressing into her bare ass and back was initially thrilling, then boring and uncomfortable.
Felicia got up. Being naked gave her too much energy to sit around and wait for Peter to get back, or even Mary Jane. It invigorated her, filling her with a naughty sparkle that she didn’t want to let MJ turn into monotony. Into defeat. Just because she’d submitted didn’t mean she was broken.
Felicia went to the front door and opened it, receiving a kinky thrill at the prospect of unexpectedly happening onto a deliveryman, or any of Peter’s neighbors. Thankfully—if a little disappointingly—no one was there to receive the utter spectacle she was dishing out with each step. Felicia stood in the doorway a moment, wondering if the universe would intercede. If Peter came out of the elevator at that moment, or the phone rang, she would take a hint.
But nothing dissuaded her. In fact, the cool breeze she felt singing down the corridor encouraged her. She preened in the open air, letting it caress her flowing curves. As if pushed by the air, like a feather or leaf, Felicia strolled to the stairwell.
She closed her eyes—she was the only thing worth seeing there at the moment, anyway—and imagined that it wasn’t air pressing so lightly, yet so tantalizingly, along her sex. No, it was Peter’s hand, his fingers hovering, almost touching, then barely touching. Teasing her into moving.
Slipping into the stairwell, Felicia went up to the roof. And even with literally nothing in her possession, she easily slid through the alarmed roof access. The hinges didn’t even creak. Then the wind was all over her body, like Peter was touching her with eight hands. Her Spider.
She jumped and raced and even cartwheeled all around the rooftop. Anyone seeing her wild performance would be as impressed with her athleticism as they would be with her flawless physique. A stark naked woman, tight and taut as a teenager, but with the overendowed curves of a marquee burlesque dancer.
She cavorted as if she were putting on a show, her white legs flashing gorgeously, every sweep of skin poetry in motion as it rippled with muscle. It was enough to give any man a hard-on. And Peter, blundering up onto the roof, was not just any man—he knew that the feel of Felicia was even better than the sight of her.
Felicia was taken by surprise. Usually well aware of her surroundings, she’d had no idea Peter was approaching her. It astonished her that here, in this apartment building where she’d been shanghaied to be Peter’s sex slave, that she’d felt so comfortable as to let herself be enthralled with these sensations rampaging through her flesh… themselves feelings she’d never had before.
Her labia lips were swollen tingles of rampant desire. She felt a lively pulse between them, inside her, begging for the fullness of Peter’s cock to bring its stimulation to each and every nerve in the walls of her too-narrow pussy. She yearned to be stretched as she knew only Peter could do, and not just anywhere, especially not in the secrecy of a bedroom or private residence, but out here, in the open, in the rarefied air of New York’s high-rises.
“Felicia, God!” Peter exclaimed. “Why the fuck aren’t you wearing anything?”
Felicia mock-pouted. “Don’t swear,” she admonished him with a smile. “There’s far better times to use dirty words like that…”
The reaction she was getting from Peter—the effect she was clearly having on him—sent the first passionate flickers of arousal to tremble in her loins. She loved hearing sweet, pure-hearted Peter Parker saying naughty words. It reminded her of how unexpected wicked he could be, the hero, the Avenger, when she brought the beast out of him.
“Cat, you’re not wearing anything,” Peter said, as though he were pointing out that her shoelaces were untied.
“What a shame—why don’t you put something on me?” Felicia stood with her legs akimbo, letting him see her tiny strip of icy white pubic fur. The wind curled it, helping her by drawing his eyes to it and the frothy pink inside her. Felicia worked her inner muscles, stimulating herself, and a tiny droplet of her arousal ran out the inside of her pale thigh. “Why don’t you cover me in something, Spider? Something warm, so I’m not so cold… I’ll help you get it out…”
She held out her arms to him in debauched invitation.
Peter moved like a zombie. Each foot went in front of the other like it was a maneuver he’d never attempted before. He crossed the distance between them in a haze, a fixation on her nakedness and her offer that precluded any other thought.
The way his erection hurt, pressing into the thick denim of his own jeans, Peter doubted if he could even take any more foreplay like this. He just wanted to fuck Felicia. He wanted to show her what she’d get each time she teased him like this—and fuck whether it was a punishment or a reward.
“Cat,” he said, his voice trembling a little. “You did as you were told. Mary Jane’s happy with you. She wants to thank you and she’ll be worried if I don’t tell her that I found you…”
“So she’ll be worried,” Felicia said, her arms extended out to him. “Do you really want to take me inside to get the all-clear from her before you fuck me? Or do you want to whip that dick out and fuck me right here, to hell with who sees us, you don’t care who knows I’m your bitch?”
