Let A Clone

Ben Reilly didn’t have anything against his ‘brother’, Peter Parker. He especially didn’t want to fuck up Peter’s marriage. MJ was a great gal and Ben wished them all the happiness in the world. But the fact was, Peter had been leaving a lot of pussy on the table. And now that he was retired and Ben was Spider-Man—well, Ben wasn’t married.

When he saw the Black Cat atop a rooftop, Ben knew it was kismet. Instead of giving her the usual warning quip, he dropped down behind her as quietly as a drop of rain. Even if she did hear him, she had no time to react. In an instant, Ben reached around her, grabbed the two halves of her plunging neckline, and shucked her skintight catsuit off her as surely any man who saw her in such an outfit wanted to. 

Felicia instinctively turned her head in reaction to the unprecedented advance and Ben met her lips with his, kissing her long and hard as he pulled the catsuit down her hourglass hips, then stomped on it to yank it the rest of the way off her long legs. Then she was naked, only boots and gloves and mask. 

Her nude body was a revelation: as good as she looked costumed, her nakedness was even better, her breasts if anything larger than when they were tamped down by her tight costume, while only barely inclining with the lack of support for their heady weight. And as good as she looked in black, the pale alabaster that made up all of her creamy skin was even more fitting, a sort of night tan for the consummate darkling. 

“Spider?” Felicia gasped. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you what you want,” Ben replied. “Not that all the beating around the bush isn’t fun, but you dropping hints about my cock every conversation—it gets old. So why don’t we cut to the chase?”

He unzipped the hidden fly in his costume, tugging out the full length of his erection. With Felicia’s nearness, her nakedness, he was totally erect, like his cock was an animal seeking out Felicia’s soft warmth. Straining at the lead to get to her.

Felicia was breathless. “What about Mary Jane?” she asked. 

“You don’t think you can take this cock better than her?” Ben leered.

Felicia lit up with a sultry smile. There was a reason she wore absolutely nothing underneath her catsuit and this was pretty much it. “Spider, I’m gonna give that cock the royal treatment!”

Ben knelt before her. Felicia stared down at him in wonder, seeing him like some kind of worshipper, her his pagan idol. 

Despite her dismissal of Mary Jane, Felicia felt odd actually standing naked before him, her thighs slightly parted to let his eyes get to her pink-tufted pussy. As though sensing her confusion and moving to counter it, Ben leaned forward and stuck out his tongue. He traced the tip of it up and down Felicia’s bared slit. She gasped, her sex twitching with each indelible whorl Ben’s tongue described over its lips.

“Peter, are you… sure…” she whispered, her doubt pitching upward into breathiness as he licked her harder and harder.

She didn’t pull away from him. She dug her fingers into his mask, the claws of her gloves catching on the raised webbing of his costume. She didn’t push his head away with her newfound grip. She didn’t pull him closer either. Perhaps she sensed there was simply no stopping his tongue from ravishing her defenseless cunt.

Felicia keened—suddenly Ben’s tongue was inside her like a striking snake! It took her breath away! Her knees shook as his clever tongue fucked in and out of her, from the gates of her opening to her depths. Felicia panted hotly while her legs went slack.

Ben gently took hold of her naked hips, as thick and comely as ever, and guided her down to the rooftop’s parapet, where he helped Felicia to seat herself. That was all the consideration he gave her; he went back to being a starving animal, burying his face between her trembling thighs, his appetite for her wet pussy absolutely ravenous.

“Ohhh, SPIDER!” Felicia mewled. “I can tell you’ve been missing my taste—hhnn!” Her outcries sounded like a woman in distress, but what she feared wasn’t physical. Rather, it was surrendering hopelessly, helplessly, to overwhelming urges. Felicia wasn’t a temptress now. Her lover had laid claim to her body, first the sight of it, then the actual flesh, and now it was his. She was seduced, not him.

Her submission inflamed Ben. He gave her all of her tongue, burying it in her sex. Felicia cried out for more; it wasn’t physically possible for her to ask him to stop.

His mouth scoured around her sex as he maneuvered Felicia’s body around, lying her down on the back and then bringing his own body over hers. Sixty-nining with her. He lashed her clit with his tongue as he pressed his dripping erection into her face. Felicia could hardly fail to see it. Panting, rutting her hot cunt onto Ben’s busy tongue, she haplessly reached for his member. It seemed to start jerking about the moment it was in her small hand.

Ben expertly played his tongue through Felicia’s pussy, at the same time rocking his hips, coaxing his rigid manhood through Felicia’s fist and towards her face. The sensations rippling through Felicia’s tensed belly made her feel like an abject slave to his phallus, bound in homage to its hardness. As her womanhood flooded with the ecstasy of a mind-boggling climax, she pulled Ben’s prick into her soft, warm mouth.

Her mouth full of his shaft, Felicia’s breath sizzled through her flared nostrils. She licked and sucked its length, like there were excess sensations coming from Ben licking and sucking her cunt, making her let the last of those feelings work themselves out through her mouth, her tongue—returning to Ben’s cock. And still his wicked tongue flitted torturously in and out of her drenched sex, lapping up all the cream that her orgasmic pussy could produce.

Felicia’s eyes closed as her throat opened, allowing Ben to fuck her mouth as thoroughly as he was pleasuring her sensitive pussy. As he tongued deeper, Felicia sucked harder. The air around the wild sixty-nine was soon filled with Felicia’s moans and Ben’s grunts. 

Impassioned by how receptive Felicia was proving, Ben fucked more of his fat cock into her supple lips. “Suck it, Cat, suck!” he growled, lost in how good her mouth felt around his girthy manhood.

Felicia responded by grinding her crotch into his face, making her pussy churn around his delving tongue. All while she sucked at his cock harder and harder. She was beside herself with desire now. The cool leather of her gloves wrapped around Ben’s hairy balls, milking the source of his cum as much as the cockhead that would give it to her. Ben’s groans told her that both were appreciated.

Strange thoughts filled the cat burglar’s head as her sixty-nine with Ben built up its tempo, the pleasure increasing right alongside it. Did Peter want to do this with Mary Jane? If so, why would she ever refuse him? Wouldn’t any woman like having her pussy eaten like this? And if he didn’t want to do it with her, why not? Mary Jane was not hard to look at, no matter how Felicia felt about her as a rival for Peter’s affections. And the big, fat cock in her mouth—how could Mary Jane let Peter give that to any other woman?

Really, Felicia couldn’t bring herself to care. Having her cunt kissed and tongued was one of the best things she’d ever experienced. If Mary Jane wasn’t letting him do that to her, it was the redhead’s loss. And if she was, and Peter still wanted to eat Felicia out—well, the more the merrier. Every girl deserved to be devoured this way.

As she thought this, Felicia Hardy had no idea just how prophetic her musing would eventually be.