Symbiote Blues update

Gwen Stacy sat in class, her nipples plainly visible against her tight sweater. George Stacy would have never allowed her to go braless, but as soon as she’d arrived at the college, Gwen always went to the bathroom and her bra found its way into her purse. 

For nearly a week, Mary Jane had been complaining that Peter had stood her up. So wouldn’t it be interesting if he found himself with Gwen while she wasn’t wearing a bra?

Gwen’s plan worked to perfection. As she left class, Peter sidled next to her. He looked good—he’d clearly been working out, because his muscles stretched out his tight shirt. She could’ve sworn she saw veins throbbing through the taut material, like her own nipples were displayed.

“Is there somewhere we can talk, Gwen?” Peter asked. “Privately?”

“There’s my car, I suppose,” Gwen said. “But I have to get to class…”

“It won’t take long. And besides, a bookworm like you can afford to be late to class.”

“Now I’m going to be late?” Gwen asked as they slipped out through a side door. “What do you even want to talk about?”

Peter didn’t answer her, hurrying through the deserted parking lot and forcing Gwen to keep up. When he got to her car, he stood at the driver’s door and looked impatiently at Gwen. She fingered her key fob, letting him in, and he got inside, reaching over to open the passengerside door. Gwen got in next to him, but Peter barely appeared to notice her, pushing the front seat back as far as it would go.

“Peter, what’s this all about?” Gwen insisted. “I thought you were going out with MJ.”

“I was,” Peter said. “Now I’m going out with you.”

Gwen let out a brief laugh. “You’re presumptuous.”

“You’re in denial,” Peter retorted. “Who else are you going to date? That oaf Flash? Headcase Harry?”

“Peter!” Gwen was very nearly aghast. “They’re our friends!”

“Yeah, but there’s a reason you’re all ‘just friends.’”

“Well, maybe we shouldn’t be,” Gwen replied hotly, overstating herself out of shock at Peter’s rudeness.

“Maybe not,” Peter agreed. Spreading his legs, he stretched his feet out in front of him. Gwen’s eyes were drawn irresistibly to the big bugle beneath his jeans—especially as Peter reached down and lowered the zipper. “We could be so much more.”

“Peter, what are you doing?” Gwen demanded.

“No, no,” Peter said, digging his hand into his open fly. He brought out his cock, oversized and ramrod straight, equally huge balls coming out of his fly along with it. “What are you doing?”

Gwen’s big blues eyes were unable to look away as she stared down at the thick length of throbbing cock in his hand. When he squeezed it, she could see the big purple cockhead swelling even larger. 

“Touch it,” Peter said. “Jack me off.”

“Are you crazy?” Gwen gasped, unable to believe what he was saying. “I’ve never heard anything so filthy in my life!”

“There’s a lot of things you’ve never heard of,” Peter said. “Start jerking it or I’ll find a girl who will. Believe me, Mary Jane’s already done a lot more than that.”

“No!” she sobbed. “I can’t do something that obscene!”

“Okay,” Peter said, starting to open the door. “Maybe you’ll find some other guy with a cock this big. Mary Jane definitely has a cunt big enough for it.”

Tears were brimming in Gwen’s eyes. She clutched at his arm. “No, Peter, no! Don’t leave!”

“Then get to work.”

Her fingers trembling, Gwen took hold of his erection. Peter closed the door. Gwen began moving her hand up and down his shaft. She could feel him throbbing inside her grip, growing harder and thicker with each stroke she gave him. Gwen felt an obscene excitement rising in her, glad in her inherent submissiveness that she was at least pleasing him. She reached down with her other hand and cupped the hairy scrotum dangling so heavily between his legs. As long as she was doing this, she might as well satisfy all her curiosities, and she had always been fascinated by the thick growth of wiry hair that matted around men’s crotches.

“That’s more like it,” Peter panted, slipping his hand around her shoulders and into the neck of her well-filled sweater. “Look—I’ll even return the favor.”

“Oh, Peter,” she whispered, feeling his strong fingers squeezing her breasts through her shirt. “It’s like I don’t know anything about you…”

Peter ignored her. “I sure like it when you don’t wear a bra,” he said casually. “Hell, like you need one.”

He ran his hand up the underside of her breast, up the soft swell until he touched her stiffly erect nipple. And Gwen’s entire body responded to the gentle but firm way he toyed with the tip of her breast.

“Do you like this?” Peter whispered. “You like me playing with your tits?”

“Yes,” Gwen whimpered, feeling her nipple swelling as he pinched it, twisted it just far enough to send jagged pleasure shooting through her.

“Take off your sweater,” Peter said. “I’ll suck your tits too. Mary Jane loves it when I do that.”

That woman’s name again… taking her hand from his cock, feeling an irrational burst of competitiveness, Gwen pulled off her sweater. She sat there in a thin shirt and no bra, broad daylight, looking around anxiously to make sure no one was in the parking lot with them. But Peter didn’t even give her more than a few seconds to look before he had jumped on her, pulling her shirt up out of the way. Gwen held her breath as he brought his open mouth down to a big, quivering nipple.

“Oooooh, Peter!” she sobbed, her hands digging into his brown hair, pulling his mouth down tighter to her full breast. “That feels so good—why can’t you always be so sweet? Why’d you have to be so mean just now?”

“You like mean men,” Peter smiled, his lips as wet with saliva as Gwen’s teat. He moved to the other one, and Gwen found herself gripping her breast in her hand, offering it up to him. “And their cocks.”

Gwen couldn’t find the words to deny it as he wolfed down her hard nipple. She squealed with joy as he went to work with his tongue, his teeth, and without prompting, she found herself clutching his prick, tugging on it. It seemed to be even bigger than before, and getting harder. She skimmed his foreskin back and forth over the engorged knob, feeling scalding drops of precum oozing from his tip and smearing on her fingers.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, she thought to herself. Just because Mary Jane does stuff like this… well, he has to be almost finished by now. This just goes to show that I do take risks now and then… do crazy things… hell, it’s not like I’m going to bed with Spider-Man or something.

“Peter, baby?” she mewled. “Are you ready to come?”

“Not yet,” Peter said around her areola, nipping at it. She cooed unwillingly as his teeth gnashed on the contours of her breasts. “But you’re right to ask me that. Me coming is what matters right now, got it?”

Gwen nodded obligingly. Fuck, what an asshole, she thought as her pussy clenched.

Gwen sped up the tempo of her strokes. She could feel his body tensing up while he suckled her nipple and knew that he was close.

“That’s it, Gwen,” Peter gritted out, letting go of her breast to lean back against the car window, spreading his legs from the dashboard to the headrest. “Get me off, honey. You’re almost done.”

Jerking even harder on his bloated member, Gwen’s free hand dug into her purse.

“Little late to put a condom on me,” Peter said. “If you’ve ever got one that fits.”

“I’m getting a tissue,” Gwen said, still stroking his oversized cock. “So you won’t make a mess.”

“Who needs a tissue?” Peter demanded. “I’ve got your mouth.”

“What?”

Digging his fingers into her hair, Peter jerked her open mouth down over his throbbing manhood.

“Now I’m ready to come,” he said happily.