Spider-Cat-Redhead 6

“It’s not that kind of dinner,” Mary Jane said, Felicia just having shown up at her door in a trenchcoat and not much else—though the ‘not much else’ seemed prohibitively expensive at first glance.

“You said your roommates weren’t home.” Felicia stepped inside, her walk seemingly designed to make her coat flutter open. “And that they were gay.”

“Yes, and they know how to party,” MJ replied, a little smugly.

Felicia groused “I wish I had some gay best friends. The best I can do is Gambit.”

“Doesn’t he have that thing with Rogue?”

“Yes, but he wears magenta. And he’s one of the X-Men. Remember when they all moved to San Francisco?” Felicia planted herself on a couch. Mary Jane’s apartment looked comfortable enough—not much to make you single it out as the home of three gay men and one woman of weaponized femininity, aside from the blasé attitude toward male nudity in the art prints on the walls. Score zero for stereotypes, Felicia thought. “So, if eating out is off the menu, we’re, what, ordering in?”

“I have a meatloaf in the oven,” Mary Jane assured her. “But my main goal tonight is to get packed for the move before my roommates get back in the wee hours of the morning and things get crazy. So it’s an all-purpose dinner slash packing slash decluttering kinda thing.”

Felicia nodded along. “When you said you wanted me to stuff your box, this wasn’t what I pictured.”

“I never said that.”

“Yes, but if you had, it would’ve been hilarious.” She vaulted to her feet, tying her coat resolutely shut. “’Decluttering’. Two dates and we’re downright domestic. You really have this lesbian thing down.”

“Thanks,” MJ said. “C’mon, I’ll feed you first.”

“When you said you had some sweet meat for me—“

“I’m not the one who makes all the innuendos, Felicia. Let’s keep it straight.”

“She said under the poster for Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.”

“S’good movie…”

***

If they were still rivals, Felicia would probably resent the fact that Mary Jane’s meatloaf actually tasted good and was halfway healthy. Domestic goddess versus the leather-clad tramp—such a cliché. But, now that they were ménage a troing, she could both have sex with Mary Jane and enjoy her cooking. A good deal all around.

“So you know when Peter’s getting here?” Mary Jane asked. “He usually used to make it home in time for dinner.”

“Oh, he had a thing with the Avengers. Shipping out to Wakanda for the night. Said he’ll be back by morning.”

“You’re not…” MJ gestured noncommittally. “Going with him?”

Felicia shrugged and helped herself to another serving. “I’m not an Avenger.”

“Still, you could tag along. Or go on patrol. Something.”

“Red, am I not being good company?”

“You haven’t said the word ‘biotch’ once, so you’re very refreshing dinner conversation,” Mary Jane assured her. “I just thought you’d be shadowing Peter, that’s all.”

“I’m not gonna be his bodyguard,” Felicia told her. “I don’t mind the team-ups, but I don’t want it to be a Thing. Living together is enough intimacy.”

Mary Jane pushed a slice of meatloaf around her plate. “I kinda thought you were like him. Great power, great responsibility, my city needs me—that sorta thing.”

Felicia shook her head, mouth full, then swallowed. “I do this for fun. Sure, it’s nice to help people and beat up guys who could use a beating, but if I take a night off to get over a stomach flu,” Felicia lurched into a B-movie voice, “the faces of those I’ve wronged won’t start floating in front of my eyes.”

Mary Jane laughed. “Yeah, I gotcha. You’re Chaotic Good and Peter’s Lawful Good.”

“Hmm?”

“You know, character alignments.”

Felicia craned her head.

“AD&D?”

“Advanced Dungeons and… Discipline?”

“Dragons,” Mary Jane corrected. “I played it a few times with Peter and some of his friends. Johnny Storm’s a surprisingly good roleplayer.”

Felicia blinked. “You play Dungeons & Dragons with Peter?”

“Yeah, I know, domestic bliss, right? He goes to spas with me, I watch MST3K with him—“

Felicia was mildly aghast. “Honey, I let him fuck me in the ass, but you—you need some boundaries. You are the goddess woman-spirit. You were not put on this Earth to play AD&D.”

“Whatever keeps him from swinging around the city with his arm in a sling,” Mary Jane said, giving Felicia the whole story.

Felicia nodded. “Yeah, I love the silly bitch, but can we agree the guy needs to loosen up?”

“I wouldn’t say that…” Mary Jane hedged, getting up to take their empty plates to the sink.

Felicia put her feet up on the cleared table. “What would you say?”

“That he needs to loosen up. Just not… like that.”

“I’m not saying he needs to sell crack to orphans, just that the man could afford to be a little more… ‘Chaotic Good’.”

Mary Jane turned on the tap water and her voice rose above it. “I wasn’t saying you were saying that—“

“What were you saying?”

“I’m getting to that.” MJ scrapped off a dish. “I want him to be less neurotic, I want him to feel less guilty, but Peter’s a very responsible person. He’s got a moral compass that points true north; he’d be Captain America’s sidekick if Steve was hiring. And I like that about him.”

“I like that too!” Felicia protested. “I mean, I’m thrilled that he’s not cheating on you and we can all be this Thing without him—wearing black leather and growing out his stubble and slapping around J. Jonah Jameson…”

“But you want to change him.”

“Don’t you?”

Mary Jane turned the water off. “I want to make it easier for him to be him. He’s a pretty great guy—even with the AD&D and the responsibility kick and the faces of those he’s wronged floating before his eyes…” She raised her hands over the soaking dishes like a wizard casting a spell. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Cat—I know you’re in love with him. But I don’t think you quite know who it is you’re in love with.”

Felicia stood, hands on her hips like she was about to fire off a rejoinder, but she pursed her lips instead. If there was anyone she could concede a point to, however silently, it was Mary Jane Watson.

“Hey.” MJ came over and took Felicia’s hands, her own warm with water and suds. “That’s not a bad thing. You have the rest of your life to get to know him—to fall more in love with him—to go on this journey, with both of us. Just know what you’re in for. He’s a Hero. Not just a superhero—a real, Joseph Campbell Hero. And that’s not an easy thing. It was almost too much for me, once.”

“And now?” Felicia asked.

“Now I see what kind of person he makes me and what kind of hero I make him. I belong with Peter. It’s my destiny.”

“Baking meatloaf for a man to eat after he beats up Doctor Octopus?” Felicia asked dubiously.

“I know,” Mary Jane grinned like she wanted to giggle. “It’s not special. I’m not the chosen one or an A-list star or… Beyonce! That’s the point. With Peter, I can just be me. That’s enough. And be honest. Doesn’t Peter make you feel a lot more special than if you were Shang-Chi or whatever?”

Felicia grinned, and was ashamed to realize it was more a doofy smile than a seductive one. “Is this girl-talk? We having a talk of girls?”

“Not a lot of girlfriends growing up?”

“Nope.”

Mary Jane glanced at her cleavage. “Wonder why.”

“But once I got into college and I realized that tingly sensation from looking at Elisha Cuthbert wasn’t just wanting to be able to rock a tanktop like she did—“

“Oh, you had sex with women?” MJ gasped in surprise. “I’m shocked! Ice cream or packing?”

“If I help with the packing, can I eat the ice cream off you?”

“If I just say yes now, will you stop with the double entendres?”

“Almost entirely.”

“Deal.”

“Okay!” Felicia cheered. “Let’s go stuff your box!”

***

“Pitch or keep?” Mary Jane asked, holding up a black rectangular box Felicia took a moment to recognize.

“Is that a VHS player?”

“Yes.”

“Pitch.”

“But…” Mary Jane pouted. “How else will I play my video tapes?”

Felicia stared at her. “A wizard magically turned them into these things called Blu-Rays. I’ll get you some.”

“They’re not all The Princess Bride,” Mary Jane said, protectively digging the box of tapes out of the closet. “I’ve got Spider-Man’s wedding in here, the first soap opera I ever played in, our sex tape…”

“Okay, we’re definitely keeping it. Tapes can stay, I’ll have Peter convert them to something millennial. But that player is going.”

Mary Jane put it on the pile. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“That there was a sex tape? There’d better be.”

MJ opened another box. Gifts from Aunt May. Keep. “About us being on a journey. There’s no more—Team Mary Jane or Team Felicia.”

“Please tell me no one has said those phrases.”

“There’s just Team Spider,” Mary Jane insisted. “We’re like sisters or something.”

Felicia snapped her fingers. “Like in the vampire sense where they sleep with each other.”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.” Felicia pursed her lips. “I’ve never had a sister. Lotta boyfriends. Never a sister.”

“Did you watch Gilmore Girls? I think it’s kinda like that.”

Felicia pulled open her coat a little. “What about me says I watched Gilmore Girls?”

“Fine, fine. Oh, hey, I’ve got this weird trick—“

“Yeah?” Felicia asked, setting aside some old playbills to sit facing Mary Jane.

“You know how you’re dating someone, something comes up, you say ‘we need to talk’—and it’s like their penis retracts into their body?”

“Yeah, it’s like a genetic memory. I think there was a dinosaur that used to say that before eating men.”

Mary Jane tilted her head to consider it. Stranger things had happened. “Well, as hard as it is for you to believe having tasted my meatloaf, but I was quite the hellion once. I did not go in for the usual boyfriend-girlfriend stuff.”

“So?”

Mary Jane looked around as if someone might be eavesdropping. “Don’t tell anyone else this, I don’t want it to get out, but—sometimes I’ll say ‘we need to talk,’ but then instead of telling him I found his porn stash or something, I pull him into the bedroom, take off my shirt—‘we need to talk about these boobs.’”

Felicia laughed. “What would Peter’s porn stash look like? Don’t tell me—Black Widow?”

MJ shook her head. “You’re not following. See, somewhere in the caveman part of his brain that likes Jason Statham movies, he’s thinking of other women who said ‘we need to talk’ and gave him the riot act, and then he’s thinking of me, who said it, and then gave him boobs. It’s like entering a cheat code in The Sims. I give him a five minute blowjob, suddenly we’re hashtag couples goals.”

“Don’t do hashtags, stick to the D&D, at least it’s vintage.” Felicia scratched at her ear. “So. did some evil genius share that with you when you were kidnapped?”

“No, I’m evil enough on my own.”

“No wonder he stayed with you so long. You had the boy hypnotized!”

“Come off it.” Mary Jane flipped her hand dismissively. “It’s not like I kept the Ms. Marvel outfit or anything. That would’ve been cheating.”

“Kept?”

Mary Jane shrugged. Dug into another box. “Oh God, scale model of the Spider-Mobile, why did I keep this?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Felicia asked. She picked through her own box. “Commemorative Godzilla glasses from Burger King. Pitch.”

“Those could be worth something on eBay!”

“Pitch.” Felicia decisively added them to the pile.

For a few minutes, they picked through boxes, the silence a little strained. Before, Felicia would’ve attributed the tension to Peter. They’d both slept with the same man. Now, that was part of their bond. So it wasn’t that.

“Hey, Red?” Felicia called. “I do like to play the slutty girl in leather with the big tits, but—I know people don’t do projects like these without any procrastination. Not unless there’s a lot of energy and they don’t know what else to do with it. So if you want to talk… I mean, I’m no Peter Parker, but—“

“The producers were going to call me today,” Mary Jane interrupted. “If I got the part. Hard call to wait for.”

Felicia looked at the clock. It was late. Really late.

“I’m sorry.”

“I just felt so invincible,” Mary Jane said. “With you, and Peter, everything seemed to be sorting itself out. I thought my lucky streak could keep going for one more day, just one, then—“

The phone rang.

While Mary Jane sat there, paralyzed, Felicia scrambled up with a thief’s reflexes, plucked the handset from its cradle, and shoved it against MJ’s ear.

“Hello?” Mary Jane said numbly. “Mary Jane Watson speaking? Yes. Uh-huh. Yes. Oh, that’s great. I’m looking forward to it. Okay. Bye.”

Felicia took the phone away, suddenly hearing its dial tone. “Well?”

Mary Jane hugged her. Their breasts pressed together, but there wasn’t any sex in it. Felicia wasn’t used to that. No tension, no sensuality, just the warmth of friendship. Sisterhood.

“I got the part,” MJ said.

“That’s fucking wonderful!” Felicia cheered and kissed her, genuinely happy for Mary Jane, wanting only to celebrate and share in her joy. Maybe that was why Mary Jane held the kiss, deepened it, made it clear they were so much more than sisters. And once she’d done that, how could Felicia keep pretending she didn’t want to fuck the redhead?

Felicia got down on her knees and pulled down Mary Jane’s trousers and panties in one shucking go. Then she gave her another kiss, her tongue rolling over the stunned lips of MJ’s labia, numbing them with a shock of sensation and then ripping away that numbness so they were like a raw nerve, totally vulnerable to Felicia licking again and again and again. 

Mary Jane screamed with surprised delight. Felicia made it feel like the only sex she’d ever had was with her own hand. Hot, slippery thrills shot through her cunt, like her body was lavishing pleasure on Felicia’s ferociously kissing lips, and Mary Jane could only bury her hands in Felicia’s platinum blonde hair and hold on.

When Felicia really wanted to please a woman, she forgot almost all technique, all her taunting and teasing, and simply poured her soul into satisfying the pussy she was so grateful to be offered. She forgot all about her own cunt and focused on prolonging Mary Jane’s joy out into eternity, so no matter what happened with the role, she’d always remember how good it had felt that night, that one night. Felicia tongued Mary Jane’s pussy inside and out, sucked her clit to finish her off when she was close to the edge, then lapped at her trembling folds to kill her afterglow and bring Mary Jane running back for more. 

Then, because Felicia was a greedy bitch and needed to indulge herself some, she groped Mary Jane’s tits, squeezed her ass, even fingered her anus—none of which Mary Jane minded. Except that when she felt Felicia’s finger between her buttocks, playing at her asshole, she moaned “Peter” with a warmth that ignited all the covetousness in Felicia’s heart. She suddenly wanted that, that lovelorn needs-meeting satiation, but Felicia scrubbed her face, keeping Mary Jane from seeing it when she looked down, wondering if she’d offended the thief.

“Don’t worry about it,” Felicia told her. “First thing when Peter gets back, he is fucking you in the ass and I’m eating you out. I wanna see how much more you squirt when he’s taking you from behind.”

Mary Jane smiled, only partly in relief. The erotic gleam in her eye showed how much she liked the idea—and Felicia was larcenous enough to want that too. She wanted Mary Jane thinking she wanted Felicia straddling her face even when Peter was deep inside her. 

“It’s a good thing you’re not a supervillain anymore,” MJ quipped. “If you told Peter he had to come all the way back from Wakanda for that, he’d blow his brains out.”

“Let’s not talk about him,” Felicia purred. “Not when we’re both here…”

And she went back to using every slutty trick she knew to bring Mary Jane to an uncontrollable frenzy. And that was very easy to do when Mary Jane wanted to be frenzied. She’d often found herself in ecstasy with Peter, but that same feeling with a woman, with Felicia, felt new and thrilling—with both Peter and Felicia, it was a bestial heat that she wouldn’t have thought possible. But even just with Felicia, it felt good enough to make her feel like she was addicted to Felicia’s lustful, exciting mouth. 

Though after a few more orgasms stolen from her paltry taboos the same way Felicia would get through any security, Mary Jane’s old rivalry, her sense of competition, reared its head. But this time, she didn’t want to chase Gwen Stacy away from her man. In fact, she wanted to make Felicia Hardy come as hard as Peter had ever made her.

Stepping out of her fallen pants, she ran bottomless to her bedroom, pert buttocks jiggling until she was bent over her nightstand, digging into the drawer for exactly what she always turned to when Peter was unavailable. She started it vibrating before she displayed it to Felicia. 

“Pitch or keep?”

“Keep,” Felicia cooed, eying its shaking contours like the cat seeing the canary. “Definitely keep.”

And since Mary Jane was moving out anyway, there was no reason whatsoever to keep the volume down.