To Share Is Human

Chat got home like she was coming down from a high. How beautiful Peter made her feel, how loved, all the swooning and swelling hearts and tingling lips in the world locked up inside her breast. It didn’t fade even when she saw Emma. 

Her roommate had put on lingerie again, a set of pearl-white bra and panties caressing her jubilant tits, framing her wonderfully set pelvis. High heels, of course, were on her pedicured feet and she had on an unbuttoned Oxford shirt for warmth, setting off the voluptuous body that would otherwise be obscene, even in that PG-13 underwear.

Usually, seeing Emma would make Chat feel less confident—how could she stack up next to that blonde goddess with her Double Ds and the wardrobe of lingerie to make her naked body look even better than the sculpture that it was? But Peter was dating her, not Emma, and that made all the difference.

“Well. You’re home late,” Emma drawled, lowering the magazine she’d been reading. “Did Peter keep you up? Or did you keep him up?”

Chat blushed instinctively, but the rush was a nice part of the afterglow after her evening with Peter. Emma’s little innuendos were somehow part of the fun. “Don’t be filthy. Nothing happened. The showing we went to was sold out, so we bought tickets for a later show.”

“Oh?” Emma asked, drawing the simple syllable out. “And what’d you do while you waited? Anything interesting?”

“He happened to take me on patrol,” Chat declared. She smiled as she thought about it. “He swung me around with him and I helped him stop some muggers and I introduced him to some of my animal friends—I almost didn’t want to go back when it was time for the show to start!”

“How thrilling,” Emma declared. She set her magazine down and took hold of either side of her shirt, pulling them together over her firm breasts. Showing off how they pushed through the thin material. “The sex must not be too good if you’re passing up on every chance to have a quickie.”

“Emma!” Chat cried, running a quick hand through her bangs to steady herself. “You can’t say things like that! We’re friends!”

Emma stood, pitched unwaveringly on the heights of her pumps. “Exactly. We’re friends. You’ve been going out with him for months and yet you haven’t dished one word about how he is in the sack. As scintillating as it is to hear about him brushing your hair out of your eyes and doing the dishes for you while you’re getting ready to go out with him…”

“They’re mostly your dishes,” Chat said in a small voice.

“Let’s be honest,” Emma pressed on. “You’re not going out with him just to have someone to hold your hand at scary movies.”

Chat’s lips pressed tightly together. “Well… what if I am? What’s so wrong with that? I’m sure you don’t get scared, so you can’t appreciate how nice it is to have someone hold your hand and let you rest your head on his shoulder and pet your hair…”

Emma stared at Chat, stony-faced. Icy eyes glared out of her perfectly pristine face. “You two have fucked, haven’t you?”

Chat’s blush now took on a strained quality. Her cheeks felt overwarm, feverish. “That’s really none of your business.”

“You haven’t!” At first, Chat thought that Emma was jubilant in how she clapped her hands to her mouth—like a drama queen with any juicy nugget of information—but then she saw sympathy in Emma’s eyes. “Sophia, you don’t think…”

“Think what?” Chat demanded, knowing that Emma was leading her on, but unable to resist.

“Well, hasn’t he—made a move?”

“I mean, he’s kissed me…” Chat put her palms to her forehead. “I shouldn’t be talking about this.”

And Emma lowered her hands from her decadent lips, the perfect pink gloss giving a single highlight of color on all that pale skin and white underwear. “You don’t feel comfortable talking about it?”

“No! I mean, yes!”

“It’s perfectly natural not to feel comfortable talking about your sex life,” Emma simpered amicably. “Isn’t it?”

“I’m comfortable talking about it!” Chat insisted.

“Because there’s nothing to talk about?”

“No! Yes!”

“Do you think that’s worth talking about?”

Chat slumped down onto the couch. “I don’t know!” she cried.

Emma sat down beside her. “There, there. Let Auntie Emma hear all about it.”

“Oh, you’re terrible. You’re just going to make fun of me.”

“I won’t,” Emma said sincerely. She Xed her fingernail on one bountiful breast. “Cross my heart.”

“Fine then. We haven’t had sex. Happy?”

“Alright.” Emma looked away, staring straight ahead as if lost in thought. “You don’t think…”

“Think?” Chat prompted helplessly.

“That he isn’t attracted to you?” Emma shook her head immediately. “No, that’s not it. You’re a lovely girl. Lovely. I’m sure you can hold your own with the Black Cat.”

“Black Cat?”

“Storm—” 

“Storm?”

“Giant-Girl.”

“Giant-Girl?”

“You know.” Emma looked back at Chat. “All those babes he spends time with, as Spider-Man, every single day.”

“But he’s my boyfriend,” Chat said certainly. “He’s not dating them! He’s dating me!”

“Of course, of course,” Emma cooed. “But he’s not…”

“He’s not?”

“Intimate with you,” Emma sighed. “Is he?”

“We’re just…” Chat frowned, then forced herself not to frown. There was nothing to frown about, after all. “We’re taking things slow.”

“Yes,” Emma nodded. “That’s absolutely right.”

“That’s right,” Chat agreed.

“You’ve kissed.”

“We’ve kissed.”

“You’ve given him a handjob.”

“A handjob?”

“You’ve blown him?”

“Blown him?”

“You haven’t blown him?”

“I haven’t blown him.”

“Has he gone down on you?”

“He hasn’t gone down on me,” Chat confessed before she could stop herself.

“He hasn’t gone down on you,” Emma repeated. “Has he even fingered you?”

Chat pinched her lips shut. She had told Emma too much, as usual, and Emma wasn’t even using her telepathy.

“He hasn’t,” Emma continued. “So you’re not doing anything to him and he isn’t even doing anything to you.” Emma bit her knuckle. “No wonder he’s straying.”

“He’s straying?” Chat asked shrilly.

“Is he?” Emma asked.

“You just said—”

“Oh, no, how would I know a thing like that?”

“Yes.” Chat nodded frantically. “You couldn’t know.”

“But if he did…”

“He wouldn’t!”

“But that would be why he would. If he did.”

“Which he didn’t!” Chat insisted.

“Probably,” Emma mused. “Wine cooler?”

“What?”

“Would you like a wine cooler?”

Chat took a deep breath. “I suppose.”

“Alright then. Get me one while you’re up.”

Blankly, Chat stood up and trudged her way to the kitchen. When she came back, Emma gratefully accepted the bottle of J&B from her. 

“It just seems like a shame,” Emma said, briefly turning to diamond to open the bottle. “You two make such a cute couple. Why let infidelity ruin such a good relationship?”

“Peter would never cheat on me.” Chat tried to open her own bottle. It resisted.

“Yes. If he can’t make a move on you, his girlfriend, I’m sure he wouldn’t do anything with any of those other sluts.”

“He can make a move on me!” Chat cried, working harder on the bottle cap. It resisted.

“But does he?”

“He doesn’t!” Chat yelled, and the bottle cap came off.

Emma reached out to pivot the bottle Chat held away from the couch, so that as it foamed everywhere, the dribble landed on the carpet and not on her expensively furnished loveseat. 

“Alright, I’ll do it,” Emma said.

“Do what?”

“Help you out.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Sophia, dear, your boyfriend refuses to have sex with you and he’s on the verge of cheating. Clearly, this calls for my expertise.”

“He doesn’t… refuse…”

“Now, here’s what you do.” Emma leaned over to Chat. “Simply tell him you’re interested in an open relationship.”

“Open relationship?” Chat gasped. “That’s giving him permission to cheat on me!” 

“Not open-open,” Emma quickly declaimed. “Say that you’re interested in seeing an old lover who wants to rekindle a relationship with you and you’ll date both people at the same time. Peter’s a pushover. He’ll let you go for it.”

“But who am I supposed to be dating?”

“Why, me, of course,” Emma laughed. “And he can date me as well, so he doesn’t feel left out. That way, you’ll have an ‘open’ relationship, but we’ll keep him away from all those whores he’s on the Avengers with.”

“Wait, wha… why am I dating you?”

“So I can take care of the sexual aspect of the relationship. We won’t come right out and say that, of course, but he’ll get the message. When I’m sending it, men always do,” Emma concluded smugly.

“It sounds like you’re talking about a threesome.”

“You want to have a threesome?” Emma asked.

“No, I… wait, with you?”

“Sophia, that’s so flattering,” Emma cooed, putting a hand to her chest. “I’m simply charmed. Yes. Of course I will. And of course Peter can join us. That will make it very easy to make sure you get a turn.”

“A turn?” Chat repeated.

“Well, he is superhuman and neither of us are She-Hulk. He should be able to handle both of us. He can beat up twenty men at once; why should satisfying two women be so strenuous? Unless you’re an absolute nympho.”

“I’m not a nympho!”

“Good, then he’ll only have to handle one.”

Chat’s brows knitted. “But I don’t want to have sex with you.”

“Don’t be silly.” Emma patted her. “Everyone wants to have sex with me.”

“Well, yes,” Chat admitted. “But Peter’s my boyfriend. I only want to have sex with him.”

“Then why haven’t you? You need help, Sophia, and it’s alright to ask for help. I’m happy to be of assistance.”

“But you’ll be having sex with my boyfriend!”

“Better me than every female in the Avengers,” Emma said. “And remember, we’ll both be dating him, so he won’t be cheating on you. It’ll be more like we’re sharing. Doing girl stuff together. Bonding, even. I think it’s all rather sisterly. The sacrifices I make to keep him away from those supervillain sluts…”

“But what about you and me?”

“Don’t worry, if Peter’s a total dud, I’ll finish you off and we’ll let that bitch Giant-Girl have him.”

“I mean, you want to have sex with me? And while… with… Peter has sex with me?”

“But of course, Sophia. You do have very nice bone structure, I’ve always let you know that. And if seeing the two of us together can’t get your Spider-Man in the mood, nothing can.”

“I… I guess then that… you could take care of the sex stuff while I… you know… date him… and we’d just have to go along with your… sexiness.”

“That’s the spirit.” Emma caressed her cheek. “Now, let’s go get you waxed. No one likes to drink out of a dirty glass, after all.”