A Year Older update

The three of them writhed together for minute after minute, seeming all connected to the same pleasure. Then, finally, they fell in an exhausted heap, gasping for breath.

Mary Jane, self-conscious, pulled away and began washing up at the sink. As athletic as she was, she wasn’t used to the aching, sweaty mess she became after the vigorous sex that Peter and Felicia enjoyed.

She stopped after splashing her face once with a cupped handful of water. Then she looked over at Peter and Felicia, both their bodies splattered with cum.

“Get off her, tiger,” she said. “I want a turn with that pussy…”

“Like I’m done with it?” Peter murmured, running his tongue over the nipple of Felicia’s lusciously oversized breast. “Christ, it feels so good in her, she’s…”

“She’s what?” Mary Jane interrupted, voice rich with amusement.

“Nothing,” Peter said quickly. “She’s pretty average, really.”

Reluctantly, he got off of Felicia, twisting and straining to pop out the kinks in his body. And he watched, his eyes glowing with renewed hunger as Mary Jane lowered her face between Felicia’s satiny thighs, tongue leading the way.

“Mmmm, I’ve never had Peter’s cum this way before.” Mary Jane’s lips smacked, every stroke of her tongue delivering into her mouth some of the hot cum that Peter had deposited in Felicia. “Right out of a nice warm cunt. Wonder if this is how it tastes when it’s in my pussy…”

“MMm! I wonder too!” Felicia moaned. “Gghh!” She couldn’t believe it, but the way MJ was licking and sucking her, she was on the way to another orgasm! Her climax built and built, until finally Mary Jane lifted her face and smiled at her with a mouthful of cum.

“Don’t stop!” Felicia cried. “I was so—“

Mary Jane swallowed. “I didn’t say I was wondering how your pussy tastes. If I want to know that, I can always ask Peter.”

“Spi-de-rrrr,” Felicia moaned, all of her ripe body jiggling in a fitful protest. “Make her finish me off! Please!”

Peter chuckled. “No can do, Cat. Mary Jane isn’t my Slave Bitch—you are.”

He said it off-handedly; just another Spidey joke. But it got Mary Jane to thinking…

***

Soon after, Felicia’s phone buzzed, alerting her to something that made her eyes very big and her smile very wide. Peter asked what it was, but Felicia was adamant that if he really wanted to know, he’d have to find out the old-fashioned way.

That made sense to Mary Jane. She knew how good Peter’s cock was. For her to have had a shot at it, Felicia had to have turned it down, and she could only have done that if being a cat burglar was even better than sex for her. What surprised Mary Jane—what really got her thinking—was how enamored Felicia was with playing Slave Bitch.

Mary Jane didn’t exactly like Felicia… not that she was screwed up enough to dislike someone she’d shared her husband with… but Mary Jane knew better than anyone that women were complicated creatures. Felicia had plenty of qualities that MJ liked and plenty that she didn’t like. And one—her taste in men—that Mary Jane both liked and disliked.

Among the things Mary Jane liked about Felicia was how independent she was. Even if she felt a little bad for the Black Cat, unable to compromise her self-sufficiency enough to let Peter in and build a real relationship with him, MJ did have a kind of respect for how Felicia took no shit. The cat burglar decided on what she wanted and went after it. Usually, she got it too.

Knowing that, it made little sense to MJ how responsive Felicia was to being Peter’s submissive sex pet, or at least playing the part of it. She wondered if Felicia was just a pervert or if it really was that pleasurable. Well, she knew Felicia was a pervert. But she wondered how enjoyable being Peter’s Slave Bitch was too. Could it only work on someone like Felicia, who had the exact right fetish to give into whatever delights it offered? Or could Mary Jane enjoy it too?

Could it even be possible that, if it was a fetish, Mary Jane had it too? She certainly couldn’t get out of her mind the sadomasochistic threesome she’d had with Peter and Felicia. Hell, Peter was a guy, and he seemed to be able to let it go, happy to go back to their normal, thrilling, satisfying sex life. Which now seemed oddly incomplete to Mary Jane. Not that there was anything wrong with what Peter was doing to her.

It was her. Something she wasn’t doing. Something she wasn’t trying.

Mary Jane had dared to join in on Peter and Felicia’s private game, playing the part of a mistress alongside Peter’s master. But could she go all the way—try out being Peter’s willing victim as well? And would that satisfy Peter even more than their normal, by-no-means boring bedroom activities?

If Peter could risk his life on a daily basis, it seemed like the least Mary Jane could do was get a little kinky. Even if she ended up hating it.

Even if she ended up fucking loving it.

***

Peter went home on the subway. After a long fight with Doc Ock, he was in no mood for webswinging. Plus, he’d used up enough webfluid for his meager budget to handle. He rested so soundly that he nearly missed his stop; luckily, someone almost urinating on him woke him up. Feeling comparatively well-rested—in the sense that this would likely be all the sleep he’d be getting, Peter ascended to the street, then made his way to the apartment he shared with Mary Jane.

“Hello, Spider. What took you?”

That made his tiredness fall off of him like a coat in summer. He recognized the husky purr of the voice, the flirtatious lilt—everything but the voice itself.

It was Mary Jane, but she was talking like Felicia. All her acting talent duplicating Felicia’s seductive timbre. It made Peter a little scared to admit how hot it got him. As sexy as Mary Jane was being herself, her acting like Felicia felt like having both women at once—again. And as much as he loved MJ, Peter couldn’t pretend he wasn’t plenty nostalgic for that night.

He brightened up even more when he saw Mary Jane. She wore a black leather catsuit, zipped up over her supple breasts. But not very far up. And as supremely voluptuous as Black Cat was, at some point over the years Peter had gotten used to the sight of her in her fur-lined catsuit.

Mary Jane was another story. It was like she’d somehow reinvented sex, seeing her in that skintight leather, every nubile curve, every statuesque inch of supermodel height, all lapped up by shiny blackness. It mercilessly outlined her body, but Mary Jane didn’t have a single imperfection to mar the view. She was sheer beauty, and maybe it was a disservice to Felicia to feel like he was losing his mind, seeing Mary Jane in the same costume the Cat pulled off with such aplomb, but seeing Mary Jane’s creamy, freckled breasts trying to force their way through her halfway undone zipper… yeah. Peter was so damn glad he’d married her. Not least of all because when he came home to her, sometimes she was doing stuff like this.

“Jesus, Mary Jane,” he sighed. “If you’re trying to find something you look bad in it, you haven’t done it yet.”

“Thanks, Spider,” she mewled. “You know I’ll do whatever it takes to be a good kitty for you.”

“Is that what you are? My good kitty?”

Mary Jane strutted towards him, showing off how the catsuit stretched and shimmied around her pert body. The zipper jiggled, struggling to contain her impressive bust. Even if they didn’t have the same heft as Felicia’s oversized tits, Mary Jane had nothing to be ashamed of. The catsuit fitting her like a second skin made her chest look obscene in the best possible way.

“If you want me, Spider. Tonight’s your night to play with this kitty.”

“Any special occasion?” Peter asked, wondering if this was some kind of anniversary present to both of them. To his great fortune, Mary Jane was the kind of gal who’d enjoy this kinky play as much as him.

Mary Jane licked her lips and smiled at him. She’d traded out her usual brand of red lipstick for a jet-black shade. As with the catsuit, she pulled it off enough that he couldn’t really say he missed ‘the real MJ.’ Not yet. Maybe in the morning. Or tomorrow evening.

“Just that you’re the best man a kitty could ask to be owned by,” she purred with great relish. “And how hard you make me come.” Impossibly, her voice grew even more sultry as she whispered, “How much cum you leave in your ex-girlfriend for me to lick up…”

Next week, perhaps.

Peter couldn’t take anymore. He grabbed her up in his arms and kissed her. Here, Felicia would be willful, competing with him, trying to match his enthusiasm, while Mary Jane was her own beast. She let his harsh lips crush against hers for as long as he liked, soft and pliant, the study in contrasts endlessly exciting to Peter. He couldn’t wait to see how this Kitty differed from the Black Cat… and from his wife.

He pressed his body against hers, letting Mary Jane feel his hardening cock pressing through his pants and her catsuit. The leather was thicker than a lot of the clothes Mary Jane wore, but he wasn’t worried about her missing its presence.

“Let me show you how much fun we can have before we take that catsuit off.”

“Yes, master,” Mary Jane cooed. She turned on her heel and led him into the apartment.

It came as something of a shock for Peter to be reminded that all that had happened on the doorstep—simply Mary Jane welcoming him home. And then there was how the catsuit traced her ass as lovingly as colored light, so tight and yet so supple that he could see each of her buttocks as if shrink-wrapped by the shiny leather.

Peter was pleasantly perplexed to come into the kitchen and see supper laid out on the table. He was used to Mary Jane’s cooking, and to her putting the come in homecoming, but both at once struck him as odd. Until he realized what Mary Jane was doing. She was playing the Slave Bitch in every respect—serving him as much outside the bedroom as she did in it.

“I thought you might need to eat to keep your strength up,” Mary Jane said. “I know how much energy it takes to satisfy a dirty little slut like me.”

Mary Jane was as excited to get started as he was—probably with as little of an appetite as him. But she ate a full plate, as he did. She tried her best to anticipate Peter’s every need. She refilled his glass the moment it was empty, quickly moved the dishes to the sink when he was done eating. She didn’t go so far as to wash them, though. Doing that in her catsuit would be just too silly. Besides, she couldn’t put off letting Peter play with her any longer.

Peter pushed his chair away from a table. “That was a great meal,” he told her, patting his stomach.

“And now it’s time for me to have one,” Mary Jane replied, more excited than ever to be playing Peter’s slave girl.

She dropped to her knees between him and the table, loving the look of mingled shock and delight on his face as she efficiently dealt with his zipper. In a moment, she had her hand inside his fly. Peter was even harder than she expected. She pulled him out and, for a moment, just held his stiffness. Even through her glove, she could feel his angry throbbing. She tantalized herself irresistibly by imagining how that would feel inside her.

“Oh, Spider, you should’ve let your Kitty know how hard you’d gotten,” she mewled softly, projecting all the sympathy her body was capable of. “Don’t you know this is what Kitty is here for? To care of her owner? All his wants and desires? All of his big, hard cock?”

“Jesus, Mary Jane,” Peter moaned. He seemed at a loss for words. Finally: “You’re one hell of an actress.”

She smirked at him, letting him peek her own mischievous sexuality through the slave girl act. “Who says I’m acting, Tiger? Spider?”

She took him between her lips. To Mary Jane’s shock, he got even harder, his cock becoming a pulsating battering ram in her mouth. He was even more excited than usual; this was really working for him. Of course, it was working for her too. Mary Jane wondered idly if maybe it worked for him because it worked for her, or worked for her because it worked for him. Of course, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the taste of his precum on the tip of his cock.

She sucked him deep into her throat.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come!” Peter said warningly. Mary Jane’s little act/not-act had worked too well. He found himself on the verge of climax when normally, Mary Jane would have to about wear her lips out to get him to come. “You’re about to make me come right in your mouth!”

It wasn’t the first time Mary Jane had sucked her husband off, or tasted his cum. And usually, she’d want to give Peter a nice, long blowjob before she treated herself to his seed. It just about got them both off, how she loved reducing him to mush with just her throat. Now, though, all she could think of was what Peter had called Felicia. Cum dumpster.

I’m your cum dumpster, she thought wickedly. My pleasure doesn’t matter, because what pleases me best is getting your cum.

This role of slave girl was coming to her easier and easier.

“No, MJ, I’m really gonna come!” Peter babbled, pushing her back in his panic of depriving Mary Jane of her fun. “You… you just about…”

Mary Jane only smiled at him. “Give Kitty her cream. It’s not like it’ll stop there. Will it?”

Peter grunted. The erection he’d been fighting down came surging back up, swelling to a deep red color that Mary Jane knew meant it was about to come. That was what it had looked like when Felicia had been about to be his cum dumpster, after all.

He settled his hands on her head. “No. It won’t.”

This time he used her—really used her—thrusting his prick into her mouth whether she liked it or not, though of course she did. He didn’t keep her waiting any longer. His hard cock exploded a flooding river of white semen down her throat. Even Mary Jane couldn’t swallow fast enough, not at first, and hot cum spilled out the corners of her mouth and dripped onto her exposed cleavage. She wondered if that was why Felicia kept her tits on display so often.

Then she found her equilibrium, swallowing rapidly the gulping pumps of cum Peter gave her. She didn’t stop until she’d drained the last drop from his cockhead. Only then did she release him. Only then did he let her up off his cock.

Mary Jane smiled up at him, loving Peter more than ever—and loving how her slave girl routine let her show it so… effectively.

“What does Master want to do with his Kitty now?”