Eight Legs For Three Ladies 15

Mary Jane felt like shushing Felicia, but for once, her companion knew to keep her mouth shut. MJ was so used to getting into schemes like this with people who didn’t have enough sense to properly wing it. Peter could be pretty chaotic at times; naturally, Gwen didn’t understand him.

But Felicia exuded a sense of cool professionalism, even after they’d watched their prospective beau mouth-fuck and facial yet another woman. If anything, Felicia seemed excited by the whole mess—face flushed and chest heaving. Though she waited until Peter disappeared into the bedroom to come out of the hall closet with Mary Jane, where they’d hid while Peter and Gwen were having their little row.

“Well, you certainly brought me a hot one,” Felicia cooed to Mary Jane. “Shame he spent himself on such an unappreciative girl… nice tits, though. I can see how you feel threatened…”

Now Mary Jane didn’t know where to turn. Talking with Felicia was conversational judo on a level beyond her own. “I’m not threatened by Gwen… her tits aren’t that nice… and now she’s screwed herself out of his good graces with that little display! I didn’t need to look you up at all; I could’ve just bought some new lingerie…”

“Out of his good graces?” Felicia threw her hair back. “She’s ninja’d her way deep into them. Withholding affection, playing the victim—he’ll be desperate to make it up to her next time, and for what? Giving her an orgasm? It’s brilliant. She could be a dominatrix.”

“Gwen’s not like that,” MJ said, feeling weirdly defensive. Maybe because, in comparison to this skintight skin-flick heroine that had Spider-Man’s back, she and Gwen were on the same level. “She’s nice. Really. Not about semen, maybe, but that doesn’t come up a lot in her life. Growing pains.”

“I’m not saying she’s doing it on purpose… these daddy’s girls, they grow up getting a taste for throwing fits and getting love-bombed or whatever. She’s like a rageaholic now. Believe me, I know the type. If there were a lesbian that’s the slightest bit femme who doesn’t do that princess shit, I’d have settled down now. Especially if she knew her way around a good quality strap…”

Mary Jane ran her hands through her hair. It felt like Felicia was trying to confuse her—why she’d bother, MJ didn’t know. She had to focus on Peter. This gave her an opening. No Felicia required: that felt like an overcomplication all of a sudden. She needed to simplify things, not draw another woman into Peter’s orbit. Even if, as Black Cat, she was already in his orbit… something like a comet that came through the solar system every sixty years.

Or came a lot more often than that, judging by the looks of Felicia.

“I’m going to call him,” Mary Jane decided, getting her phone out. “He’s probably thinking about me already… I should get out of here so he doesn’t hear my ringtone coming through the wall… but I call him… I need some excuse to go towel-shopping with him, he seemed set on that.”

“You need to let him simmer,” Felicia said, swiping the phone out of Mary Jane’s fingers with all the poise of a born pickpocket. “The boy must be running on empty after doing his Yellowstone act—why bother with him right now anyway? The way I see it, we can either swipe those towels that are dripping with his cum—“

“Eww,” Mary Jane said, telling herself they had to have dried off by now.

“I know, I’m not that sold on him yet either. Or, since the Peter Parker angle was a bust, you find another way to entertain me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You promised me the fuck of a lifetime. Not that I thought you’d deliver—your boy isn’t Spider-Man, after all—but I didn’t drive through New York traffic just to go home and vibe myself. Let’s have another round. Who knows? By the time I’m done, maybe you’ll be ready to let this Gwen have Peter Palmer.”

“Parker. And not on your life am I letting that holier-than-thou blonde snake…”

“Rrrw,” Felicia purred. “Easy, kitten. Save some of that heat for me. That couch your boy toy’s got looks comfortable…”

“I’d know, right?” Mary Jane retorted, then shook her head with fond amusement. Felicia was a girl after her own heart—for starters. “You’re insatiable.”

“Lucky you. If this Peter does decide to snatch you up, he’ll probably frown on any extracurricular activities. Might as well play around while you can. And while I want to.”

“You always want to,” Mary Jane teased—not that she made it sound like a bad thing.

“Not always. You redheads are a rare treat. Mind if I treat myself?”

Mary Jane was sure Peter could get it up again, but Felicia didn’t know that. And MJ was having second thoughts about letting on, now that it seemed like Gwen might press the self-destruct button on the hold she had on Peter.

In the meantime, Mary Jane congratulated herself on the embarrassment of riches she’d maneuvered herself into. She could have Felicia for supper and Peter for dessert.

No commitment: that was starting to sound like one of her better ideas.

But as Felicia embraced her, Mary Jane thought again of her plans, of having both Peter and the Black Cat making love to her… and her sharp pang of disappointment was not that she’d missed out on a threesome… it was that she’d missed out on Peter altogether.

It was almost enough to make her try to dissuade Felicia so she could make a play at the spider-boy instead. But Felicia’s tongue in her ear was very insistent… Mary Jane decided she would just have to live with this disappointment.

***

Peter was unable to sleep. That argument with Gwen… or whatever it was… if it was just a fight, he could live with it. He was no baby boy. He’d been in arguments, heated arguments—had people try to kill him—but this felt so unsettling. He wasn’t sure if Gwen was making a big show of being offended or if he’d actually hurt her by… what? Making her orgasm in a way she didn’t like to orgasm? Because she’d sure seemed like she’d enjoyed it while it was happening.

That was one thing he could say for Mary Jane. She didn’t have any hang-ups; at least, none that he could see. And that didn’t seem to be his specialty at the moment. Maybe she had a whole department of hang-ups that were just buried too deep for him to be aware of.

But what were the odds of that? If anything, she usually came off the tiniest bit shallow to him. No wonder he’d never confided his secret in her—not that he’d confided it to Gwen either. Gwen had flipped out over a little protein in her face; Felicia had come in Peter’s face plenty and he’d never complained.

Not that he’d tell Gwen that. Ever The relationship would have to level out before he even trusted her with his unmasking; something that could get him and Aunt May killed.

But it would level out… and it was a relationship?

Those two assumptions seemed very large to Peter at the moment.

With Mary Jane, everything was sleek and simple. Maybe too simple. Was it even a relationship that they enjoyed each other’s company and each other’s bodies? Then again, at least she’d seen his face. Felicia couldn’t say the same.

The Black Cat… why’d he brought her up? She wasn’t even an option. She wanted them to be an item as both Felicia Hardy and Black Cat. As if people wouldn’t notice that the woman dating Spider-Man was also dating a guy with the same height and build—then again, it was Felicia. She bought her little black books in three-ring binders. They might just think she had a type.

Peter thumped his head against his pillow. He had three gorgeous women, all wanting different things and the same thing from him. In high school, he would’ve killed for that. But would he ever have agreed to it if he’d known it would make an insomniac out of him?

Peter thought of Gwen’s boots and Felicia’s plunging neckline and Mary Jane’s… just Mary Jane.

Probably, yeah.

God, that’d been a sweet blowjob, though. As skilled as MJ and Felicia were, Gwen had a natural talent, coupled with a fine enthusiasm… and that cute, innocent face doing the naughtiest of things… shit, that could drive a fellow nuts. Even if she weren’t pound-for-pound (pounding-for-pounding?) the hottie Mary Jane and Felicia were… and she was gorgeous… that adorable thing could be just irresistible.

Maybe Peter’s subconscious was desperate for a shift in subject from thoughts of how tired he was, how wired he was, and which girl he truly loved—but he heard something. And it was definitely something, not a figment of his imagination. Peter sat bolt upright. It was coming from inside his apartment; the walls weren’t so thin as for him to mistake that.

Great, now he had a prowler! Though with his wonky luck, maybe it was Felicia dropping in to ravage him.

Ha. What were the odds?

Picking up a baseball bat—solely as a deterrent—Peter pulled on a set of boxers as well. He looked around for a shirt, but all of them were still in the laundry room. He could always put on his spider-suit, if he wanted to explain to a random criminal why the Amazing Spider-Man was fighting crime door to door.

Peter groaned to himself. He really had to get a handle on his life. This was the downside of dating… or ‘dating’… three women. With that aspect of his life at eleven out of ten, maddening as it was, the rest of his existence paled in comparison.

God, imagine if Gwen came over and wanted a fork to eat something with? He only had one fork!

Focus, Parker. Stop getting burgled now; provide an adequate shag pad for your harem later… and stop calling it a harem right NOW. We are NOT being weird about this.

He was proven right when he stepped out into the hall. He wasn’t going to be weird about this. However, Felicia and Mary Jane hadn’t left it up to him.

By now, they were so far along the track of their passion that they wouldn’t have heard them if he’d come up to them in Hulkbuster armor. Not that Peter made that much noise. He was usually pretty stealthy. But when he saw what was going on upon his couch he almost lost his footing and tumbled into his TV.

What a goddamn spectacle! Two perfect beauties lying half-naked together, right in the middle of sex and his living room—somehow both at once.

Helplessly, Peter came as close as his male instinct dared before another part of his body could take over and urge caution. He paused at the corner of the doorway into the room, enjoying the view and the anonymity of being undiscovered.

Then he realized one of the women was Felicia. And the other was Mary Jane. How in the hell that was possible, he didn’t know.