Reward

Peter’s senses were sharper than ever now. Even outside Mary Jane’s apartment, he could hear the harsh gasps, the murmurs, the groans from inside. The bed creaked, but too little for two people. And the humming sound could only be a vibrator. 

Peter let himself inside and heard a strangled sob from the bedroom. It was a good vibrator, apparently, but he knew MJ could do better.

He went to the bedroom door. Mary Jane’s vocalizations filtered through it. “Ye--yes! Mmffff! Oh God! God!”

Peter was mesmerized. It was almost musical, the creaking bedsprings and her hot gasps and the faint buzz of the vibrator inside her. His cock was surging up and out, pressing against the symbiote, which obligingly opened to let it out into the open air. That was good. There, at least, he wanted to feel Mary Jane against him. 

And he wanted to see Mary Jane. He wanted to look at her face as she strained toward orgasm, even that a half-hearted echo of what she’d had with him. Should he crack the door open? Would she notice? If she did, it wouldn’t matter. She’d know he was there soon enough anyway.

He took hold of the doorknob and turned in, pushing the door inward far enough to form a narrow crack. He couldn't see the bed through it, but he could see the mirror. It was positioned perfectly to show him Mary Jane as she masturbated, the bedside lamp casting an erotic gleam over her bare body. He wondered if she had intended that. Probably. Mary Jane was a born exhibitionist. She’d enjoyed being photographed by him with and without clothes. Imagining someone creeping around her house and watching her would turn her on, and with just that meager vibrator to get her off, she’d need all the help she could get.

Then he heard Mary Jane spitting out words, deep gurgling words from deep within her.

“F-ff-fuck! Fuck me!” she blurted out. “Fuck me, Peter! I need it! I’m going to come for you!”

Peter’s fully erect member now thrust painfully out from his loins. So Mary Jane still used him to get off, even now that they were broken up. As long as she was acting, Peter supposed she’d welcome him giving her a tip or two.

He watched as tiny spastic ripples ran through her leg muscles. She was about to come. But Peter wouldn’t let her be satisfied by the tiny climax she could give herself. He shoved the door open and strode up to the bed. His gait was that of a conqueror entering a fallen city.

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he said to Mary Jane as she squawked and grabbed for the bedsheets to cover herself. “But I’ve seen you enjoy yourself more.”

Confusion filled Mary Jane’s eyes. She hugged a pillow in front of her to give herself another shield against his stare. “Peter… you… the symbiote, you and the symbiote…”

“You must be real lonely if you only have a vibrator to keep you company.”

“Peter, the symbiote, it affects your mind, you know how it—“

“Want me to cuddle with you?” he asked teasingly.

“Peter, please, if you can’t fight the symbiote…” She took a deep breath. “Then… you should just go.”

“If I leave, you’ll just pick up where you left off. Why not let me take it from here?”

He ripped the covers away from her and Mary Jane shrieked again, but it was one of her horror movie screams, more for effect than from real fright. She laid as if stricken, her legs open, her breasts rising and falling, her eyes hot on him as she felt out every inch of how exposed she was to his gaze.

If Peter’d had a camera, he would’ve taken a picture. And if he’d taken a picture, Mary Jane probably would’ve come.

He didn’t touch her, though. That would be it, the whole ballgame. Instead, he picked up the vibrator from where it had fallen on the bedspread. He saw Mary Jane’s muscles clench, her body only getting more tense. Disappointment? Or further arousal? Her eyelashes batted as she watched him hold the vibrator up, wet and gleaming from her most secret place.

Peter held it out to her, in front of her face, touched the tip to her lips. And Mary Jane tasted it and sucked it inside. It was not an obliging maneuver on her part. She did it so willfully that Peter could only think she’d wanted to do it.

Her cheeks caved in as she sucked the vibrator, eyes closed now, hiding her thoughts behind her eyelids. Peter knew how good the taste was. And for Mary Jane, anything at all to do with sex tasted good. Panting fast through her flaring nostrils, Mary Jane liberally wetted the vibrator by sucking it as hard as she could, making little whimpering, purring sounds as it entered her throat. She was still tasting cunt—and enjoying it hungrily—when Peter took it out of her mouth.

Then, to a sort of surprised satisfaction from MJ, he kissed her sensuously on the lips. She was too startled to react at first, but a second later she put her hands on his face, not trying to stop him at all. Her hands ran down his muscular body and the chill of the symbiote over it, coming somewhat tentatively to a rest at his waist. She leaned up to deepen the kiss, and brush the tips of her breasts against his chest. 

And then he had stopped kissing her, and was just staring at her with a cool gaze.

Mary Jane laid there beneath him, bereft for a moment, not knowing what to do. No. That wasn’t true. Her cunt was throbbing. It knew exactly what to do.

“I taste good,” she grinned up at him. “You can either check for yourself or let me find out how good I taste when I’m dripping off the end of your cock. But either way, tiger, hurry it up. Just because you’ve upgraded to a basic black doesn’t mean I have all day to spend on you.”