Not Eddie Brock update

Peter had always been vulnerable to the ladies. Back when she’d just been a redhead, Mary Jane had quickly found out how easy it was to win an argument simply by implying a little sex, then following through and fucking the hell out of him when he pleased her. You weren’t a tease if you really were down to fuck. And if she was a whore, well, at least she was a good one.

It was so easy. Too easy. She loved Peter for his cocksmanship, but she also found herself pitying him a little for how weak he was against her feminine charms. Spread herself open for him, he’d jump through a hoop. Mary Jane wasn’t sure how much she liked that in a man; Peter had some fucked up idea of his own self-worth, especially when it came to women, despite the truly epic pussy he’d gotten, herself at the top of the list. MJ made a note to work on bolstering that self-confidence. In her current state, after all, she could have anyone. Dreamboats like Captain America or Thor. There was a reason she wanted him. And Mary Jane didn’t mind if he found that out and became a little more assertive in their relationship. That was the goal, of course. Symbiosis.

Peter tried to keep from coming the moment Mary Jane took him into her mouth. He thought of Gwen, wondering momentarily if she could ever learn to give him the exquisitely pleasurable suction that MJ was right now. Then he almost laughed out loud. Gwen would never do anything like this. She was much too proper to even initiate sex; he always had to ask her. He wondered what she would do if he asked her to suck his cock. Probably slap him across the face and send him home.

Mary Jane let his prick slip out of her mouth, observing it for a moment as it throbbed angrily before her face. “You’ve really done a good job holding out,” she said. “I think I’ll let you come in my face, just to see what it feels like.”

Peter argued just for the sake of arguing; it felt too weird to agree with her. “That won’t be much fun for you, will it? I mean… you can’t get off like that?”

“Oh, I’ll enjoy it plenty,” Mary Jane laughed. “I just love the taste of cum. I didn’t get nearly enough when I sucked you off before. You can come on my face and I can lick it up and then you can eat me until I come.”

She lowered her mouth to his prick again before he could think of anything to say. The warm wetness of her lips and tongue quickly made thinking of anything at all an impossibility. Peter felt her hair brush against his brimming scrotum, lightly tickling his balls. His prick began to throb powerfully; he knew he was about to come. He was almost ready to shoot his hot seed into her slick, smooth throat.

Mary Jane nipped his manhood lightly with her teeth, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him buck with the intensity of what he was feeling. Then she sucked hard, as if trying to swallow his engorged prick. She squeezed her lips around the throbbing shaft and pulled her head up and down. Peter felt like he was dipping lower and lower into a whirlpool, being sucked down and barely managing to surface, to resist, as the pleasure grew more intense.

Peter gave a mighty groan as his prick surged mightily. He was almost there, yelling hoarsely as Mary Jane suddenly cleared his cock, perched with a Cheshire cat grin in front of it as he jerked and spurted his burning cum all over her beautiful face, white blasts of it crisscrossing the varicose veins of symbiote black already trailing over her face.

“Gaaaa!” Peter screamed as spurt after spurt of his cream jetted out from his manhood. He felt like he was depositing gallons onto Mary Jane’s face, into her open mouth—she swallowed eagerly, not letting go of a drop that he pumped past her lips. The moment his flaring cockhead stopped ejaculated, she covered it with her burning mouth, sucking and slurping every last drop off and out of his shaft before she sighed in satisfaction. 

Mary Jane sat up looking proud to wear his cum, licking her lips with a snaking, elongated tongue. “I hope I taste as good to you as you do to me. That was like dessert before dinner!” she said, smiling.

Peter was too breathless to answer. He gave her a weak grin and a satisfied moan, forgetting for a moment just how fucked up the situation was. He could fix things later. For now, well, what choice did he have but to close his eyes and think of England?

“Just catch your breath, tiger,” Mary Jane giggled, running a finger through the mask he’d given her, then sucking it clean. “I’ll show you some more fun we can have. You’re not going to believe all the things we can do, now that I can keep up with your amazing Spider-Cock.”

Peter laughed softly—thinking he had to be hysterical. “I can’t even believe this is happening,” he muttered, not without a strain of contentment in his voice.

Mary Jane heard it. She smiled at Peter, knowing she had him over a barrel with his worry over his sweet, somewhat innocent bride, at the same he was eating out of her hand with the pleasure she was showing him. But between Mary Jane’s knowledge of the man and the symbiote’s familiarity with the superhero, she knew she could manage him just right. Soon, he would come to accept her as a partner—she wasn’t anymore amoral than that Black Cat hussy he’d been an item with. When he saw what a match she was for him, both in battle and in bed, the oddness of just how exactly their three-way love affair had rekindled would be lost in the new equilibrium they’d find.

And when he had his own symbiote, it’d make for one hell of a foursome.