The Cuckold

Mary Jane Watson nervously ran her hands over the material of her filmy nightgown, as if reassuring herself she was wearing something when she felt so naked. The doorbell rang. She knew who it was. Peter would’ve used his key to come right in.

But she still felt nervous. She had been having the affair with Dmitri for almost a year now and she still felt a not entirely unpleasant rush of adrenaline whenever he came over. Perhaps it was Pavlovian. He only ever showed up to fuck her.

The silky nightgown flashed around her long legs as she strode to the door to let him in. Her hand trembled as she reached for the lock, then, firmly, she slipped off the chain, turned the lock, and opened the door for him.

Dmitri stood on the porch for a moment, shadowy with the light off. He came into the hallway silently, revealing himself in a little more detail, but still swathed in darkness. He was a mature man, gray at the temples, but with the body of a young athlete. His chest was big, hard, and powerful muscles continued throughout the rest of his body. Mary Jane always enjoyed it when he pulled her body against his and almost crushed it with his passion.

“You’re late, Dmitri. Didn’t you want to see me?”

“There was a road closed—lots of traffic. I had a real long trip getting here. Why? D’ya miss me?”

Mary Jane gave him her answer immediately, throwing her arms around his neck and covering his mouth with a deep kiss. Her breasts pressed against his chest, aroused nipples poking into his flesh, and in return, Dmitri moved his hands restlessly over Mary Jane’s back. Mary Jane ran her lips across his cheek, catching her breath before giving him another lustful kiss—Dmitri reciprocated her renewed attentions by bringing his hands to a rest on the curves of her taut ass. Mary Jane had a perfect ass—ample, but not too big. Anything more than a handful was fat to Dmitri, but a flat little nothing wasn’t interesting at all. He squeezed his handfuls with reckless enthusiasm, breaking the kiss in a cry of pleasure from Mary Jane, before she melted their lips together all over again.

Dmitri would’ve smiled if Mary Jane’s tongue weren’t in his mouth. He almost couldn’t believe that such a beautiful woman could be so easily seduced. Sure, as the Chameleon, he had made himself look like her ideal man: handsome, manly, a touch of the feminine in the eyes to ease his masculinity, with six-pack abs and a ten-inch cock because women were as shallow as men. But she could’ve turned him down. 

The fact was, she was curious. Not about him, but about what she was missing out on, being married to one man when once she’d fucked every man who she thought would be a good time. She had forgotten what that was like and she wanted to see if it was as good as she’d once thought.

He’d met her at a party—one of the few she could drag her husband along to—and the first encounter had been tense with him there, all the chemistry right under Peter’s nose. But, if anything, that only made it more exciting for Mary Jane. He’d sensed her becoming aroused just from picturing taking the flirtation further, and finally he’d fucked the hell out of her. This time she would never forget the orgasm she’d had from being a slut, and Dmitri would never forget how it felt to ream out her tight wet cunt.

Mary Jane broke off the kiss, arms still around Dmitri’s neck to hold herself up as she suspended herself like some pelt he’d brought back from a hunt. “Of course I fucking missed you,” she said, her lips already swelling from the roughness of the kiss.

Dmitri studied the redhead in the dim light of the hallway. Her chest was heaving with arousal, straining through her thin nightgown. Her breasts were high, pear-shaped, crowned with pointed nipples and pale pink areolas. All but the exact shade of their coloring was shown off by her scant sleepwear. 

But Dmitri’s cock reached its greatest length when he looked into her green eyes, full of nothing but longing for his body. Her own body cajoled Dmitri into breaking the hypnotic stare and taking in her well-formed curves again. He looked down at her breasts once more and saw they were jiggling with Mary Jane’s panting breaths, the woman nearly hyperventilating with lust. His cock began leaking precum within the prison of his slacks. Mary Jane’s body was too much for any man to look at without experiencing for himself.

He buried his face between the two hills of creamy flesh, indulging himself with kisses and licks and moans all buried in Mary Jane’s cleavage. And while his mouth was avidly enjoying the pleasures of Mary Jane’s breasts, his hands returned to her ass, squeezing their resilient flesh in his powerful grip, making sure the redhead could not escape—as if she wanted to.

Mary Jane had been waiting all day for this. Peter had been called in by the Avengers every night for almost a week, sleeping like a log when he wasn’t with them. Mary Jane was horny enough to fuck Dmitri every day—she masturbated every evening, and it was only because she didn’t trust herself that she limited the affair to whenever Dmitri deigned to call her. 

Her lust for him was fiercely burning as it never had for Peter. He simply didn’t arouse her like Dmitri did. It wasn’t his fault; it was because Dmitri was adultery, kinky, wrong, her strict upbringing arguing against Dmitri every time she saw him. But her cunt argued louder. He was a wonderful lover, satisfying all her urges, and if Peter could ignore her to satisfy his heroic impulses, she could certainly ignore the thought of him to feed the passionate fires that were now burning hotter than ever.