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Eight Legs For Three Ladies update
🕑 Added 2021-07-16 18:00:01 +0000 UTC“Honestly, I don’t know what to tell you,” Peter said a half hour later in his studio apartment, faced now with two stunning beauties who couldn’t have looked more out of place in his thrift-shopped home if they were wearing space suits. “I’m so busy with work and taking care of Aunt May and school… I’m really not looking for a committed relationship right now. I love hanging out with you, both of you, and if you ever need company I’ll be there for you the minute I’m free, but I just can’t be anyone’s steady boyfriend.”
“Oh, horseshit!” Gwen cried, the loud curse sounding particularly harsh coming from her, echoing around the empty space of the big, barren apartment. “You just don’t want to let Mary Jane down. Well, you have to, Peter. I insist on it! Be honest with her! Tell her how you really feel!”
Mary Jane leaned against the wall, a cocky smile on her face as she flaunted her body, knowing she didn’t have to take off a single stitch to look like a million bucks. “Yeah, tiger. Tell me how you really feel. Don’t you want to dress up in a monkey suit and go to gorgeous Gwendy’s next poetry recital? Maybe tour the new modern art exhibit? Surely you’d hate throwing on a pair of jeans to go dancing with me at some sweaty nightclub…”
“You shut it!” Gwen snapped at her. “Peter and I dance plenty!”
Mary Jane giggled. “Well, there’s dancing and then there’s dancing.”
Gwen was aghast to look at Peter and see he was blushing, his ears burning a bright red. “You… you told me you loved me!” She whirled on Mary Jane with jubilant triumph on her face. “He told me he loved me!”
Mary Jane’s exotic face quirked. “He said he loved me too.” Then her look of apprehension melted into a smile. “He meant it when he said it to me. He was feeling—very honest at the time.”
Now Gwen spun on Peter. “You were honest when you said it to me too!”
Peter held up his hands defensively. “I was! I did! Gwen, MJ, this was months apart…”
“Who’d you say it to first?” Gwen demanded.
Mary Jane came up behind her. “Yeah. I’m starting to think it’s not such a bad idea, you making your pick between us, once and for all.”
Faced with the combined weight of their determination, Peter took an actual step back. “It doesn’t matter who I said it to first… I meant it both times… you’re both great, beautiful and sweet and sexy as hell… I have feelings for both of you.”
“Yeah, no shit!” Mary Jane crossed her arms. “Gwen isn’t bad to look at, I’ll give her that, but surely once she opens her mouth…”
Gwen put her hands on her hips. “Peter, I can understand you being attracted to this woman, but after a few… episodes with her, surely want a deeper connection—“
“Yeah, with me!” Mary Jane cried. “Maybe you should try opening your mouth for something else, Blondie.”
“Peter and I have kissed plenty!”
Mary Jane scoffed, “Yeah, your mouth isn’t big enough for much else.”
“Some guys don’t want a girl with a big mouth!” Gwen sniffed, her fingers tightening to whiteness around her waist. “Some guys can appreciate a companionable silence!”
Mary Jane grinned at her. “If you’ve been silent with him, one of you isn’t doing it right, and I know it’s not him.”
Gwen’s teeth clenched. “I can’t believe Peter would ever look twice at a cheap hussy like you!”
“He never stopped looking the first time, babe.”
“Ladies, please!” Peter cried, unable to believe he’d actually said such a phrase. “Didn’t I just say that I’m not interested in an exclusive relationship with either of you? I just can’t right now!”
Gwen hummed knowingly. “Clearly trying to let you down easily, Mary Jane. That’s why Peter and I are such a good match. We both value character.”
“It’s not too nice to keep stringing a blonde along,” Mary Jane retorted. “But then, I can’t complain much. That’s what I like about you, Pete. Deep down, you’re a bit of a bad boy.”
“He is not!”
“We’ve already established you don’t know him too well, Gwen.”
“I know him fine!”
“He’s gotten to know me much better.”
“Perhaps a little too well,” Gwen shot, now growing a smug smile. “Some guys prefer a little something left to the imagination? A little bit held back?”
Mary Jane chuckled. “You keep saying ‘some guys’. Who? I’ve never met them.”
“I’m sure you’ve known quite a few men in your time—“
“Uh-huh. That’s why I know Peter’s the one for me. But you keep shopping around, Gwendy. I’m sure you’ll find someone who loves kitten heels and floral-print.”
“Peter likes the way I dress just fine!”
“I meant for him. You know, someone a bit more… fashionable? You do seem to want a sexless relationship…”
Gwen’s face turned red. “My relationship with Peter has plenty of sex!”
“It certainly does. It’s just I’m the one having it.”
The blonde jabbed a finger at Mary Jane. “Peter, tell you! I mean, her! Tell her you’ve had your fill of her cheap smut!” Then Gwen took a deep breath and flashed Peter a promising smile. “And then we can get to know each other… so much better.”
Mary Jane snorted with laughter. “It’s a bit late for that, dollface. Why should Peter want the rest when he can have the best?”
“Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
That shut Mary Jane up, but only for a second. Her gaze shot to Peter. “Believe me, Pete, you won’t be getting any milk unless you tell this bitch the facts of life!”
“And as soon as you’ve told this bimbo off, we can take things to the next level, Peter.” Gwen shone a gleaming smile at him. “Fresh. Untouched. Yours and yours alone. You don’t need to put a ring on this finger, Peter—not yet. I know the kind of man you are. I’ll accept being ‘engaged to be engaged’. Once we’re together, I know I won’t need to hold anything back.”
“Oh please!” Mary Jane spat. “Don’t tell me you buy that she’s a virgin, just cuz she acts all high and mighty!”
Gwen’s slitted eyes shot wide open. “How dare you!” she barked at MJ.
“Yeah, clearly I’ve dared more than you, but let’s not pretend you’ve been waiting for True Love’s Kiss all this time.”
“I have!” Gwen stressed. “Peter is the man I love!”
“In your dreams, lady. Peter’s been loving me a lot more than you.”
“I doubt there’s any actual love in what the two of you do.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. Oh wait, you have.”
“This is pointless!” Gwen shrieked. “It simply doesn’t matter what you think! All that matters is that Peter is in love with me, which means your relationship with him is over! Tell her, Peter!”
“Yeah, Peter.” Mary Jane started to unbutton her coat. “There’s no need to pretend anymore. We both know you can’t get enough of me. Gwen, she’s cute and all, but it’s time to get real with her. She’s not the one you need.”
She took off her coat. Under it, she had on a translucent red blouse and tight black miniskirt. She wore a matching red bra under her top, really only a strip of lace, and Peter found his eyes predictably drawn to her generous cleavage, obscenely overt through the red nylon. He could only stare open-mouthed at her, his heart thudding in his chest.
Normally, he’d know exactly what to do at this point, but he’d never had Gwen here while Mary Jane made a play for him. What’s worse, it didn’t turn him off. He was as drawn to MJ as ever.
“What are you doing?” Gwen demanded, though it was patently obvious. “Oh God, you really think Peter is some caveman who can’t see a pair of breasts without losing his senses?”
“Not a caveman. More of an animal. Gwen’s been calling me a slut all day, Peter. Why don’t we show her how right she is?”
“Wha…” was all Peter could stammer.
“She probably thinks that just cuz you’ve fucked me, you’re not interested in me anymore. But I think it’s the other way around,” Mary Jane purred with exaggerated slowness, moving closer and closer to him. “I think now that you’ve had me, you don’t want anything else. You’re addicted. That’s how it is with me. I’m addicted to your cock, your cum. I need it and I don’t care who knows.”
The open reference to Gwen brought Peter somewhat back to his senses, though he still felt a sweltering sense of arousal. More than anything, he wanted to go to Mary Jane and rip the clothes right off her body—that was almost always what happened when she came on this strongly. She bought cheap outfits and a change of clothes just so she could enjoy his passion without reservation. He was only able to hold back due to the thought of how giving in would hurt poor Gwen.
“I… I tried to tell you. You’re both wonderful, but I can’t commit to either of you, no matter what games you play.”
“I’m not playing games,” Mary Jane said silkily—Peter watched in disbelief as her fingers expertly did away with the buttons on her sheer blouse. Gaping, he saw it fall away to reveal her exquisitely molded breasts, made all the more provocative by how her bra lusciously outlined them. He saw the pale skin heaving with each breath, the rhythmic rise and fall of her supple chest almost hypnotizing him.
“Peter, I’ve had it!” Gwen whined. “If you don’t throw this slut out right now, we’re through!”
“You certainly are,” Mary Jane purred. Her hands slipped behind her back. A moment later, she shrugged the slender straps of her bra from her smooth, freckled shoulders. “But Peter and I, we’re just getting started.”
“God… they’re perfect…” Peter couldn’t resist gaping at the full beauty of Mary Jane’s exquisitely formed breasts. His eyes bulged, staring at the creamy expanse of her chest, the full silken mounds surmounted by delicate pink nipples, already erect in lustful proof that she really was turned on and prepared to follow through on it, not just one upping Gwen. Her hands cupped the round hills, squeezing them, titillating the hardened little buds as if to show Peter the joy he could be taking in her offered body.
“The last gasp of a desperate little whore!” Gwen spat, giving Mary Jane a murderous look. “Peter’s a kind, decent, wonderful man. He’s not going to give into you just because of this vulgar display, any more than I would sleep with a man if he flashed a big dick at me!”
“Maybe you should,” Mary Jane retorted. “Then you’d know what to do with Peter instead of offering to be ‘engaged to be engaged.’” She rolled her eyes to Peter. “If you wanna talk commitment, a ring around the finger is nice, but it’s no substitute for being addicted. Dominated. Downright belonging to a man. And his big dick. You’re the one who fucked me, Peter. Are you really going to act like I’m not your bitch now?”
“Jesus, Mary Jane, I…” Peter muttered, unable to tear his eyes away from her half-naked body. His head was spinning. He’d been all set to try to dissuade Gwen and Mary Jane from asking for a deeper, riskier relationship, now things were going way too fast for him. He could feel his erection growing, swelling against the confines of his boxers. His hands itched to reach out and once more clasp Mary Jane’s glorious cleavage, to knead and massage them to add a sultry pleasure to Mary Jane’s visage. He knew just how to do it, just how good MJ would look as she enjoyed being fondled by him.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this right in front of me like some kind of… I don’t even know what! Even strippers don’t actually do it right on the stage!” Gwen cried. “How dare you! Peter, stop her!”
Peter’s lips pressed together, aching to take those sweetly swelling nipples inside his mouth, to coax them into stinging hardness with his teeth and tongue. Mary Jane being offered to him while decorum stopped him from doing anything to act on it was enough to drive him mad. She was just standing there, half-naked, a youthful Venus he’d do anything to possess, except he couldn’t without hurting Gwen.
“What’s the matter, Gwen?” Mary Jane trilled mockingly, giving Gwen a look that could’ve lit a torch. “You never had a problem with Peter dating both of us before. What did you think he did with me all those nights? A dirty, cum-hungry little slut like me?”
She moved closer to Peter, so close that her naked tits brushed against the wrinkled material of his guayabera shirt, and the delicious hint of contact send eddies of almost unbearable pleasure into him. Mary Jane stood next to him, sensuous just in standing still, and when she breathed, her nipples rubbed against his chest. She seemed on the verge of purring like a cat.
Peter wanted to pull away, tell her to put her clothes back on, but he couldn’t. He wanted more to take her in his arms, crush his mouth to hers, knock the breath out of her with his kiss, caress that supple body of hers, and fuck her, yes, fuck her within an inch of her life. But he couldn’t do that either. It already stabbed like a knife, that his continued inaction was paining Gwen the way it was.
Instead, Peter managed to take a step back, though it pained him like a mortal blow to stop touching her body. “Mary Jane… we shouldn’t…” He faltered then, his eyes once again feasting on the sinuous grace of her topless body.
“Shouldn’t what?” Mary Jane cooed, insinuating with every ounce of weight in her slender body.
“We shouldn’t be… you shouldn’t tease a man like this!” Peter gasped, feeling his face burn with a blush. He told himself that was what she was doing, just teasing, him and Gwen as well. As much him as Gwen, showing off her naked breasts, her silky voice, her veiled promises of sexual pleasure. It was meant to needle Gwen every bit as much as tantalize him. Well, he was in no mood to be fought over as part of MJ and Gwen’s rivalry.
“Who’s teasing?” Mary Jane asked, reaching down to the side zip on her scant black skirt.
With a quaking stare, Peter watched as she undid the skirt, rolled it down off her luscious little hips, slipped it down off her thighs, then kicked it off her ankles. She was left in nothing more than her pumps and a tiny part of bottoms the same shocking, titillating red as her bra had been.
“Jesus Christ, MJ, Gwen is right there!” Peter breathed, though no one watching could be convinced he had noticed, his eyes were so fixed on the red triangle of pubic hair held under the semi-translucent material of her panties.
“So what?” Mary Jane chortled. “It’s your apartment. You make her leave if you want to. I’m not going to be rude and throw her out. Let blondie watch—she might learn a thing or two.”
“You’re crazy,” Peter said, his voice almost a moan. “You have to get dressed before…”
“Before what?” Mary Jane teased, moving in a little circle around Peter’s rigid body, close enough that her undressed skin brushed against his covered flesh. “Are you going to do something to me, Pete? Go on and do it. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Oh, I’ll do it, you teasing little—“ Peter started to say. He could almost hear his control being sucked away like an airplane depressurizing. “You can’t expect to throw yourself at a guy, dressed like that, and not get a reaction! You should know what he’ll do to you! For God’s sake, I’m just a man!”
“Don’t think there’s anything ‘just’ about what a man you are,” she cooed, running her hand over the considerable bulge his erection had made in his pants. “Are you worried that I can’t take it? You know I can. Or are you going to give it to me harder, rougher, than I’ve ever taken it before?” She cradled his swollen cock in her fingers, feeling it throbbing hotly in her hand. Throb and grow. “I wish you would. Why hold back? It might help Gwen rethink a few things. She might not like getting fucked through a mattress and stuffed full of cum, but you know I love it.”
Sweat had broken out on Peter’s face. His mouth was dry, his voice hoarse, trying to contain the lustful mutiny inside him. And every time Mary Jane looked at him with her succubus eyes, she recruited more of his body to her cause. What the hell was she trying to do, send Gwen running to get a cop to pull him off her before he ruined her pussy too bad?
“You beasts,” Gwen sighed, but she didn’t sound angry like before. Her breath was heavy, husky—as though she were aroused, not angry. Could Gwen be getting turned on as well? Were he and Mary Jane so keyed up that Gwen was getting swept along by their lust, giving into the air of desire in the room just as he was tempted to? “She’s such a slut, Peter. How can you want to fuck such a dirty, dirty slut?”
“Come on, Gwen.” And as if Mary Jane had heard the same tremor in Gwen’s voice, she sounded like she was no longer taunting Gwen, but sympathizing with her. “We’ve all been going back and forth, on and off, in and out. You’ve probably been dating Peter just as long as I have. You’ve had all the chances you could ask for to do whatever you want to do with him. So why be pissed at me for doing what I want to do with him? It’s not as if it isn’t what he wants to do with me… or you.”
“Now listen, MJ,” Peter started, but her hand then drew down the zipper of his fly. His erection rejoiced in its newfound freedom, leaping out into the open air, pulsing with girthy arousal. Gwen gasped at the sight of his engorged cock, jaw dropping, while MJ petted it fondly, making Peter moan at the contact between her cool fingers and his burning flesh.
With a cry of despair, Gwen turned on her heel and fled the room, the door slamming shut behind her.
Mary Jane totally ignored her departure, so blasé about it that Peter’s initial impulse to go after Gwen and tend her stung feelings was immediately smothered by the effect MJ had on him. “Wow! I don’t remember it being this big, or this hard. Then again, usually right around now I’m not exactly measuring it.”
The redhead smirked, her hand stroking and rubbing his stiffened shaft, drawing it out to an even greater length. Peter could literally not think to do anything but stand there and let Mary Jane do whatever she wanted to his ever-hardening prick, so long as it kept feeling as good as it did.
“Don’t get me wrong. You’ve always got a nice, big hard-on for me. This is just… le dernier cri. The cream of the crop. So to speak.” Mary Jane hummed, keeping up her rhythmic rubbing of his manhood. “Speaking of cream, is that why you didn’t want to play? Maybe you’re afraid to start a fire you can’t douse? Maybe Petey had some playtime of his own, hmm? That’d be a shame. Two girls to share with and you keep it all to yourself. Let’s see if you saved any for me…”
Not more than a minute after she left, Gwen swept back into the apartment, slamming the door even harder on the way in than she had on the way out. “PETER! ARE YOU REALLY GOING TO FUCK THAT GODDAMN WHORE!?”
“Yeah, tiger,” Mary Jane simmered at him, her eyes locked onto his, not moving one iota to acknowledge Gwen’s return. “Are you going to fuck this goddamn whore?”
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