For Peter's Sake

Life was full of little ironies. For example, there was the fact that many women looked forward with dread to their birthday and the official confirmation that they were a year older. But it was because of two women that Peter didn’t. It was his birthday today and Peter had been looking forward to it ever since his last birthday, because on his birthday, Mary Jane let Felicia insert herself into their sex lives.

It said something about how effective the combination of the two women was that Peter’s lustful stamina had been overcome, their night of passion coming to an intermission despite how Peter had been hungering for this for weeks. This wasn’t by accident. Every night of the preceding week, Mary Jane had been sure to pull Peter into bed, or at least somewhere private where she could get down on her knees, to ensure he had only so much pent-up desire going into being shared with Felicia. Although the Black Cat was a close enough friend for Mary Jane to share what she cherished most with her, the redhead still rued the thought of Felicia getting the idea that Peter was unduly excited to be getting some from her.

And so, after a mere few hours of play, Peter rested, his back against the sofa as he sat naked on the apartment’s fine Persian rug. His strong legs were spread apart, his manhood hanging down between them in quiet satiation. Felicia and Mary Jane lay naked on their backs, their heads resting on his thighs. Both girls gleamed with sweat, but only Felicia had that vivid white glow of cum inside her splayed pussy. Peter had known how much she wanted to be appreciated on his birthday, a special day for her as well, and had saved his load to bleach her vivid pink cunt its preferred color—matching the tiny stripe of hair she’d shaved her pubic thatch into

Peter’s eyes were shut, as though still relishing the feel of spilling himself into Felicia’s tight little cunt. His swimmer’s chest stirred slightly with his breath, while his hands moved with languid grace, stroking the hair on Mary Jane and Felicia’s heads. As good as the sex had been, the afterglow, with this silken feel of glossy hair under his hands, drew out the satisfaction of it like one of Felicia’s long, savoring blowjobs. He was even more contented with knowing he was still pleasing them, in some small way, giving them pleasure with his light massage to pay them back for all they’d done for him: their companionship, their faithfulness, and most recently, the sex that seemed like an outpouring of everything he loved about both of them.

Felicia turned over onto her belly, her chin resting on Peter’s muscular thigh now. “You have a thing for hair, Spider? I notice me and MJ are pretty gifted in that department. Everyone loves my hair.”

“Is that what they love about you?” Mary Jane asked. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Peter felt something new—he opened his eyes to see his big prick being tickled by Felicia’s hair. With a handful of it wrapped in her fingers, she dangled the ends over his limp manhood, and the sensation slowly gathering his blood into the flaccid organ. It inched its way back to hardness—Peter didn’t think any man could stay soft for long into the presence of one of these women, much less both of them.

“How about it, Spider? Don’t you just love my hair? Or maybe…” Felicia took Mary Jane’s hair and wrapped it around his cock until only the knob remained uncovered. “You prefer your wife’s?”

Peter smiled. “I’m not sure I can tell the difference. I think you use the same conditioner.”

“Maybe I should give you a better feel,” Felicia trilled, before jerking her hand up and down his shaft with Mary Jane’s soft hair gloving it.

“Hey!” Mary Jane cried. “That’s my hair, you know!”

“Relax. I’m the one doing all the work, aren’t I?”

Mary Jane pressed her face against Peter’s big cock, feeling it reviving against her cheek, and pushed Felicia away to climb up Peter’s body. He soon put his arms around her, kissing her hungrily.

“Show me how much you want me,” she sighed. “I know you only get Felicia once a year, but show me how much—“

“You can’t imagine how much I want you,” he interrupted her, filling his hands with her firm buttocks, covering his face with her supple breasts. Mary Jane panted as his lips seemed to find the most sensitive spots on her heated tits, again and again.

“Suck me,” she moaned to him, stroking his hair. “Suck me.”

When he did, Mary Jane thought she might have a climax on the spot. Peter had started out ravaging her breasts like a sex maniac, and she couldn’t blame him, but over the years of marriage, he’d learned a finer appreciation of them—sucking the large, flaring nipples with gentle skill that had Mary Jane shaking with lust in seconds.

“Time to go to bed,” Mary Jane cooed, and Peter easily stood even with her weight in his arms.

She heard a smack of flesh against flesh that had to be Felicia giving his ass a slap, but they both ignored it. Peter carried her to the bedroom and had her down on the mattress before she knew it, his mouth still all over her breasts. When he mouthed her nipples, all Mary Jane could do was let out uncontrollable whimpers. “God, it feels so good!”

“Tits that look as good as these deserve to feel good,” Peter groaned, sucking her nipples even more passionately.

In the back of her mind, Mary Jane wondered where Felicia had gone—surely she hadn’t left already and they didn’t have anything worth stealing for her to take while they were distracted. Then, Peter held her down on her back while he crawled over her to squat over her face. The sight of his big, throbbing prick right before her eyes chased all the questions out of Mary Jane’s head.

The cockhead brushed against her full lips and Mary Jane opened them eagerly, using her tongue to cajole his prick inside. Peter pushed his knob into her and Mary Jane further wrapped her fingers around the thick shaft, so that she was caressing it with her tongue and her lips and her hand, all while looking up at his handsome face to see how he enjoyed her efforts.

Peter was beyond pleasure—his face contorted with the effort of holding in the lust Mary Jane was giving him. He clenched his teeth as his prick throbbed inside her clinging lips. Steepling his hands on her head, he gently rutted himself in and out of her wet mouth.

Mary Jane let him, focusing on sucking on all the cock he fed her. She wanted him to enjoy her blowjob so much that he’d be addicted to it, that he’d let her blow him right on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange if it meant he got to come in her mouth.

She was focusing on Peter’s pounding erection so strongly that she didn’t realize what was happening to her. She felt a sudden thrill of pleasure going through her cunt and simply enjoyed it for several seconds, as if she were actually getting off that hard from blowing Peter, before she realized what it was. A long, searching tongue was inside her sex, fucking her with hot, rapid licks.

“Unnhhhh!” Mary Jane gasped, halting Peter’s thrusts with her hands on the muscular delta of his lower belly, slipping her mouth off his cock. “Oh! What… what’s happening?”

She craned her neck to look past his hips and couldn’t believe what she saw. Felicia was crouched between her legs—it was her tongue that Mary Jane had felt slithering inside her, pleasuring her so incredibly. The shock was enough to jolt her away from the delight she was getting.

“Hey! Hey! What are you doing?” Mary Jane demanded, suddenly thrashing about, pushing Peter off of her body and squirming away from Felicia.

The bed was king-sized, with more than enough room for her to get away from Felicia, but she couldn’t get away from the look in Felicia’s eyes. It was one that Mary Jane had never seen from her, or any other woman, before. Jesus, she wants me.

“Felicia, what’d you do?” Peter asked, holding out calming hands to both of them to try and play peacemaker.

“Just having a little fun,” Felicia said. She moved across the bed on her knees, her full breasts jiggling with each motion. “C’mon, Red, it’s Peter’s birthday. Don’t you want to show him a good time?”

“You stay away from me!” Mary Jane told her. “I’m not like that! I’m not a lesbian!”

“No one said you were,” Felicia purred. Her smoky eyes caressed Mary Jane’s naked form. “And I’m not either.”

“Then why were you doing… what you were doing?” Mary Jane asked weakly. Vaguely, she recalled that Felicia was bisexual. Of course she was. She would hardly be so hung up on Peter if she weren’t attracted to men, after all.

Felicia came down onto all fours about a foot away from Mary Jane. Her massive breasts swayed under her torso. She looked like a supplicant, worshipfully inoffensive as she lowered herself down to Mary Jane’s feet. Her breasts flattened against the bedspread.

“I just wanted to put on a good show for Peter.” Felicia kissed Mary Jane’s toe and Mary Jane pulled her foot away from her. “Peter, don’t you like seeing us play with each other? It is your birthday, after all. And we’ve been doing this for so long—isn’t it time we do a little more for him?” Felicia padded forward, to kiss Mary Jane’s foot again. This time Mary Jane didn’t pull it back any further. Why should she, when Felicia would just crawl after it? “It doesn’t mean anything. We’re just having a little fun. For Peter’s sake.” And she wrapped her plump lips around Mary Jane’s big toe, sucking it with a moan.

Mary Jane looked to Peter in a kind of panic, unsure what to think, hopeful that he would provide some place for her conflicted mind to go. But when she saw him, he was watching with hypnotized lust, his big cock twitching out from his lap. Her lips moved soundlessly as she watched him in turn. He was—he was getting off on this! This, more even than their yearly threesome, was what he wanted.

Mary Jane never could deny him anything.

“Maybe… maybe we could kiss some,” Mary Jane stammered. “I’m an actress. I can kiss people I’m not attracted to… make it look real…”

Felicia laughed throatily. “You must be one good actress.”

On all fours, she slunk up Mary Jane’s body, her breasts brushing against Mary Jane’s long legs. Mary Jane looked down at them, staring at that incredible bust of hers. She was feeling something, wondering why she’d never felt this way before when looking at Felicia’s tits. She’d always thought they were impressive—she wasn’t delusional, after all—but that had always annoyed her.

Now… she wanted to touch them. Or, no, maybe just pay closer attention as Peter touched them, instead of ignoring his foreplay with Felicia to focus on kissing him or sucking him herself. She wanted to see him touch them and squeeze them, lick them and suck them…

Felicia made eye contact with her, and her green irises lit up as though she could see in Mary Jane some permission, approval, desire. She kept inching closer and closer to Mary Jane, her body over the redhead’s like Peter’s was when he prepared to take her in the missionary position—still one of MJ’s favorites—she always got off when she let Peter take charge of the pace and power of the thrusting—Old Reliable, she called it, but having Felicia in that position was so different, so new, nothing at all like Peter… Peter… Peter was craning his neck for a closer look, while staying skittishly away like he was giving Felicia room to work. He wanted to see, but he didn’t want to interrupt. Mary Jane would do anything for him, but what did he want her to do?

“You’ve got me so confused!” Mary Jane mewled suddenly, her mind racing too fast to stay silently in her skull anymore. “I’ve never done anything like this before!”

“You want to know the truth?” Felicia whispered, growing still closer, now so close that her lips could touch Mary Jane’s without much of a movement at all. “I’ve never done anything like this either.”

Like a well-timed joke, the statement broke the tension. “Bullshit!” Mary Jane cried with sudden confidence.

“Really.” Felicia reached out and touched one of Mary Jane’s naked breasts with her fingers. Her touch trickled over the sensitive outer reaches of Mary Jane’s feeling, not at all like the firm, possessive grip she was used to from Peter, flooding her with pleasure. This teased her. Tantalized her. Made her yearn instead of instantly gratifying her with more, more, more.

“Peter really cares about you. I don’t want to ruin what I have with him by doing anything wrong with you. It’s just that you’re so beautiful, MJ. It’s worth the risk to touch you—to know what that lucky husband of yours gets to feel. That’s what I find myself wondering every time his birthday rolls around.”

Mary Jane felt the hypnotic thrall of Felicia’s desire for her, and Peter’s approval of it, wrapping her up like a down comforter on a cold night. Under the weight of it, she became pliant, wanting more. She could hardly resist when she felt Felicia embrace her. Felicia’s lips touched her neck and shoulders, making Mary Jane swoon with pleasure.

“Oh, God, but I’m not a… not a lesbian,” she whimpered.

“No, you just like being kissed… being caressed… like how Peter looks at you. He wants you so much, MJ, but he wants to see this even more. The one way you’ve never pleased him, not until now…”

Mary Jane felt Peter move behind her, his warm cock dragging against the bare skin of her back. He embraced her from behind, his lips at her ear.

“We, ah, don’t have to do this,” he said hesitantly, clearly as worried about breaking this spell as he was of making Mary Jane uncomfortable in any way. She loved him so much, the big dummy. “If you want to stop, we can—“

“Shhh,” Mary Jane said, pulling his hands to her breasts. She was pinned between him and Felicia, outnumbered by them, but she liked it. The surplus of their desire for her didn’t end in added need, too much for her to satisfy, it multiplied the tenderness, the beatific gentility Mary Jane had felt before with Peter and now with Felicia too.