SCARLET, SONJA, SPIRAL, SILVER: Chapter 6

The pendant was complicated in design, a six-pointed star with a crescent moon overlooking the upper half, intersecting the points of the star. Both star and moon were centered around rubies, which shone together unsettlingly like a pair of eyes. The entire thing was beautiful, while still being a bit unnerving.

“There may be those who seek to prevent the ritual,” Wanda said, holding the pendant out to Mary Jane. “If they do, you will have to hold them off.”

“Whoa!” Peter said, holding up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, no way—if there’s going to be a fight, we’re putting MJ on a bus before this even gets to first base—“

“Peter!” Mary Jane snapped, eyes flashing dangerously.

“—and we’ll get the Thing in here, or the New Warriors,” Peter continued. “Blade, someone.”

“I can handle myself,” Mary Jane argued stubbornly.

“These aren’t autograph hounds,” Peter insisted.

“And this is not a battle on the physical plane,” Wanda interrupted, shaking the pendant as if to remind them of its existence. “It will be fought in the realm of the mind. Mary Jane may not possess the raw power of some of your friends, but she cares for you as none of them do. That is why the ritual must be done with a married man.”

Wanda set the pendant into Mary Jane’s hands, then closed her fingers around it. “Usually it’s the guy who gets his wife jewelry after he steps out on her,” Mary Jane quipped, wincing even as she said it.

“It’s enchanted,” Wanda explained. “Old magic. If you must fight, this will empower you with the strength of your ancestors.”

“Okay then,” Mary Jane said. She cast a stern look at Peter. “I’ll go try it on.”

Peter and Wanda were left alone. Wanda drew on reserves of feminine poise that Peter, quite aside from his gender, had never developed. He could tell she was still nervous, though. She looked lovely, sensual even, but her composure was a cover, not the relaxation of someone truly at ease. 

He understood the apprehension, though. They were going to have sex, with the fate of the world at stake, and even if she was currently single, he very much wasn’t. That fact made an otherwise attractive prospect into something nerve-wracking. He felt anxious as a virgin; ironic, when back then, he’d thought the best he could hope for was to marry a good woman and not die alone. 

He’d managed that, but even as crazy as his love life had been and now was, it was hard not to describe it as lucky, considering Black Cat was in it, let alone Mary Jane—a perfect ten if ever there was one. And now Wanda, who had every virtue that Gwen Stacy or Liz Allan had ever had, in addition to being a world-renowned superhero, a magical pagan goddess, and—if you cared about such things—her Roma heritage counted as a ‘diversity win’.

It brought to mind the expression ‘too much of a good thing.’ Peter had been happy, delighted to spend this rainy day indoors with no greater purpose in life than satisfying Mary Jane—an out-of-this-world beauty like Wanda Maximoff showing up on his doorstep and demanding sex counted as a downturn in his day. His life was insane, his luck moreso.

Then Mary Jane came back into the room. If Peter’s mind had wandered to Wanda’s sexuality, Mary Jane’s reappearance seemed designed to remind him just who he had married. She had on the pendant, and a set of pearl earrings whose pristine sheen well-matched her wild-but-not-unruly red hair. From there, it was more a matter of what she didn’t have on. She wore a set of black lace panties that caressed her pelvis delicately, the filigree at the groin offering tantalizing glimpses of her glossy sex. Over it, a bustier was connected by garters to a set of stockings, all of them in one long, liquid flow down from spaghetti straps on her pale, freckled shoulders. But only some of the bustier actually covered her. A built-in bra and a panel of fabric that stretched over her belly, both green, while the rest was made up of mesh as sheer as her stockings, proving her skin was as creamy and flawless all over her body.

Even Wanda was taken aback, staring as though her own gypsy costume wasn’t every bit as much the lingerie as what Mary Jane wore. At least from the front. In back, Peter could see from a passing reflection that the panties cut between her pert buttocks with the minimum fabric necessary to hold the rest of the undergarment together. 

“I thought I’d slip into something more comfortable,” Mary Jane said.

Peter was beginning to feel distinctly overdressed, which was a new experience for someone who spent half his time in tights.

“Aren’t you cold?” Wanda asked innocently. Peter let out a shrill, unprepossessing laugh, but Mary Jane only smiled with complete sincerity.

“I don’t think that will be a problem for long,” she said. “Now, why don’t I get us all some real drinks?”

Going to the liquor cabinet that she usually used only for entertaining guests—and Peter supposed this qualified—Mary Jane mixed them all gin and tonics. “So, Wanda,” she said as the ice cubes clinked into place. “How do you like it up the ass?”

Wanda blushed and stammered, her ears turning bright red. “I—I don’t think I’ve ever done that.”

“Well, if you want to,” Mary Jane said, bringing a tray of drinks to the coffee table Peter and Wanda were seated around. “Now’s the time. I love it up the ass. And Peter’s very good at giving me what I want.”

Peter was about to ask Mary Jane what the hell she was thinking, putting Wanda on the spot like this, when MJ laughed riotously and Wanda joined in with a girlish titter, hand raised to cover her mouth. Peter was agog. He could only chalk it up to Mary Jane having an X-gene for putting people at ease, even when there was no way the outrageous things she said should’ve accomplished that, at least to his own introverted way of thinking. 

Wanda sipped her gin and tonic, while Mary Jane leaned into the sofa cushions next to her, like they were two sorority sisters bonding over their favorite Real Housewife franchise. For Peter, though, the suspense was unbearable—wondering what would happen next, who would start it, but unable to take any pleasure in the anticipation. Not when he was so worried about disappointing Mary Jane. If he enjoyed it too much, she’d want a divorce—if he didn’t enjoy it enough, might she take that as a slight against her new friend Wanda? It was all insane…

“Maybe we should just get on with it,” he suggested mildly. “Wanda, you take off your clothes, and I’ll—“

“No, not yet, dear,” Mary Jane cut him off, placing a mollifying hand on Wanda’s thigh. “Seeing as it’s my husband being loaned out, I think I should have some say in this, shouldn’t I?” She squeezed Wanda’s thigh and got an answering smile back. 

Even with Peter’s stunted social skills, he could see MJ’s genius. Taking the sting out of this whole encounter by calling the shots herself, making it so neither he or Wanda felt any jealousy or guilt because Mary Jane was treating it all like her game. 

“What do you want me to do?” Wanda asked, trembling like a leaf on a tree. Her thoughts were actually running along much the same lines as Peter’s; wondering what would happen and who would make the first move. But with Mary Jane as the master of ceremonies, the question was really what did she want to happen. The misgivings Wanda had felt over being with another woman’s man began to dissolve…

Mary Jane smiled in a way that both put Wanda at ease and made her feel like she was completely out of control. “Well, it’s like this. My husband happens to have a huge cock. And I’ve always wondered what I look like when I’m sucking the cum right out of it. And with that pretty face and those full lips, I think watching you do it is the next best thing to making a sex tape. You’ll probably look even better than I do when I suck him off.”

Wanda tittered. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly…”

Mary Jane’s face fell in a pout. “You mean you won’t do it?”

Wanda shook her head before realizing that wasn’t very clarifying. “I mean I couldn’t possibly look better than you do… sucking him off…”

They made eye contact and understood each other perfectly. The idea of giving Peter a blowjob right in front of his wife turned Wanda on. And it turned Mary Jane on too.

Even Peter could see it. He undid the belt of his robe. “You heard the lady, Wanda. Come here. Kneel down and take my cock.”

Trembling with excitement, Wanda knelt on the thick carpet in front of Peter’s chair. He opened his legs wide. Wanda spread his robe open at the crotch and was delighted to see the sheer size of his prick, even when it was only half-hard. She leaned down to kiss it, at first close-mouthed, then merging her open lips against it, letting her tongue out against its contours with light, feathery strokes.

Peter groaned, surprised by how good it felt, how right it felt, even with Mary Jane right there. He couldn’t fool himself. He was responding to Wanda as much as MJ, his cock getting full and stiff, swelling out to fill Wanda’s mouth with its throbbing excitement. Wanda licked up and down its straining length, enjoying the grunts she provoked from the man. 

Mary Jane sat on the armrest of Peter’s chair, her lips softly parted, her eyes shining. She ran her hands lovingly through Peter’s hair as she told Wanda how to fuck him next. “Don’t forget his balls, tigress.”

Wanda slipped her hand under the massive erection being aimed at her and cupped her fingers under Peter’s engorged balls. She tickled the wrinkled skin of his scrotum with her fingertips, watching how his prick responded. Wanda glanced at Mary Jane to see the redhead licking her lips. Wanda did the same. Under Mary Jane’s watchful eye, she caught Peter’s pulsing cockhead in her lips and squeezed it tightly in her warm, wet mouth.

He moaned as Wanda’s tongue trailed down the underside of his fat shaft, showing off just how much she had managed to fit into her mouth. Wanda got comfortable on the floor and rested her arms on Peter’s knees, ready to suck him for a good long time. She looked at Mary Jane again, proud of having the woman’s husband in her throat. Mary Jane smiled and reached out to run her finger over Wanda’s bulging cheeks, stuffed as they were with the hardness of Peter’s erection.

“Not bad, sweetness. You have a mouth made for sucking.” Purring happily, Mary Jane turned to kiss Peter’s cheek. “I’ve always wanted to give you a kiss while I’m sucking you off. I think this is close enough…” She crooned with delight as her lips met his, both of them sharing in the arousal of Peter being suckled by another woman. 

Wanda herself felt her sex moistening with Peter’s cock down her throat, throbbing away. She tightened her lips and sucked hard, opening her throat as best she could to take more of Peter’s shaft. Peter grunted and his hips twitched, driving his length into Wanda’s gullet. He reached down to run his hand through her hair, caressing her ear, her neck, all of her lovely face.

Then Mary Jane took hold of Peter’s robe, working it off his chest. “Wanda looks fine, but I think it’s time you show a little skin, Pete.” 

Peter extracted his arms from the sleeves, then leaned forward as Mary Jane pulled it off his shoulders and sat up briefly to let her pull it out from under him. Wanda bobbed her head on his pulsing manhood, stopping with her lips stretched around the bellend to suckle hungrily at it. She felt just wanton, stuffing her mouth like a slut while her lover’s very wife watched, obviously holding herself back from joining in so that Wanda could enjoy her husband to the fullest. She pumped her mouth down Peter’s shaft until his knob struck the back of her throat.

Again, Wanda retreated from Peter’s shaft to close her mouth around his collar, pumping his saliva-slick length in her hand until he was throbbing under her fingers, dripping precum into her eager mouth. As stunned as she was to realize the length and thickness of Peter’s cock, what filled her mouth as well as what protruded out of it to lead to his groin, she was more surprised still to see Mary Jane reach down and grab Peter’s balls, squeezing them lovingly in her hand.

“They’re nice and full, Wanda. Do you want all this cum he’s got to give you?” Mary Jane teased. “Better work for it. I know all the tricks to get Peter off. You’re just going to have to do some on-the-job training. First, why don’t you lose the costume? My husband isn’t some cape-chaser. He’s the one who gets chased.”

Overwhelmed by how Mary Jane was beaming over sluts going after her husband—sluts like me, Wanda thought—Wanda opened up her bustier, letting her full tits glisten sweatily in the open air. Then she undid her skirt. The loincloth fell right off her hips, confirming the long-standing rumor that she wore nothing underneath it but neatly trimmed pubic hair. 

Peter groaned to see Wanda undressed to the point that all that was left was her corset top, opened up like a vest to reveal every lush curve of her well-sized breasts—not quite lingerie, but she was sure to give Mary Jane a run for her money. And Mary Jane’s green eyes raked over Wanda’s supple body with equal fervor, resting pointedly on the firm cleavage that billowed out of her unlaced top, refusing to be contained, making it seem impossible that they had ever been hemmed in by its parameters. 

“God, no wonder even a robot fell in love with you,” Mary Jane sighed. “Peter, you’d better fuck the hell out of this witch or you don’t have an IQ point under that mask.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter chuckled. “Wanda, why don’t you show my wife she’s not the be-all and end-all of giving a blowjob?”

Wanda laughed herself, unable to believe the crazed party—the orgy—that this event had become. She had worried she’d be destroying Spider-Man’s marriage, but all she seemed to be doing was spicing up their sex life. And, it had to be said, her own. 

If only he wasn’t married, Wanda thought ruefully. If they were just dating, I’d… I’d…

She buried her wayward fantasies into concentrating on Peter’s satisfaction, wanting to thank him for how easy he had made all this, as well as his supreme good taste in taking the ever-understanding Mary Jane for a wife. If she weren’t married either…

With a wanton cry, Wanda moved down to take Peter’s balls into her mouth, sucking them hard and leaving them glistening with her spit. Then she clamped onto his prick again, vigorously sucking it, trying to take as much of it as she could down her throat.

Mary Jane licked Peter’s face, like she was helping Wanda to play him to his orgasm. “God, Peter--wait until she sees how hard you come. Wonder if you can make her choke. Try. That’ll make you appreciate the hard work I put into deep-throating you, hubby.”

She lifted herself up off the armrest, circling around to behind the kneeling Wanda, enjoying the new perspective she got on Peter’s groaning, sprawled out body, Wanda’s curly head of hair bobbing over his lap. Kneeling down behind Wanda, Mary Jane popped her middle finger into her mouth and coated every inch of it in saliva as she pulled it out. When she patted Wanda on her bare ass, Wanda knew what that damp fingertip meant.

“We never did settle whether you liked it in the ass,” Mary Jane whispered in Wanda’s ear. “Let’s find out.”

Spreading Wanda’s asscheeks with one hand, Mary Jane worked her wet middle finger up Wanda’s hole. Wanda wasn’t sure if she liked the queer feeling or not, but she was so caught up in what Peter and Mary Jane were doing to her—what she found herself doing with them—that she pushed her ass back into Mary Jane’s probing finger, urging it deeper in. MJ mewled at the warmth she found in Wanda’s ass and pushed her finger all the way in, starting to pump it in and out of Wanda in rhythm with how Wanda’s mouth bobbed on Peter’s erection. 

“I think she likes it,” Mary Jane breathed.

Wanda looked up at Peter and saw him smiling down at her. She smiled back, her mouth stuffed with his cock. Mary Jane’s other hand went around her, finding her cleavage, rubbing and squeezing it from the upper slopes to the swollen nipples to the sensitive undersides. 

Wanda licked and sucked Peter’s manhood until she couldn’t take anymore, finally pulling her mouth off of him, turning her head to kiss Mary Jane and share the taste of Peter’s arousal, white precum that had bleached her tongue for MJ to suck on.

“I need him, Mary Jane,” she said desperately. “I need him to fuck me… need to be his…”

“You are.” Mary Jane curled her finger in Wanda’s ass, forcing the gypsy almost to the point of orgasm—all before Peter’s cock had touched anything outside her lips. “Hands and knees, Wanda,” she hissed. “Peter, fuck her from behind. Take her like a dog right here on the floor, just the way I like it. Mount her like she’s a bitch in heat.”

Wanda felt a surge of lust through her body, almost coming again at the sound of Mary Jane’s husky voice. It was like the redhead knew just how to keep her on the brink of orgasm, warm and ready for Peter to fuck. She couldn’t believe they’d never done this before. Maybe Mary Jane had been thinking about it—thinking about it for a long time until she found someone slutty enough to be a bitch to her and her husband.

Wanda followed Mary Jane’s directions, helped along by Mary Jane’s ushering fingers, and she was so out of her mind with sexual need that she actually felt in danger of forgetting where she was, needing Mary Jane to guide her as the redhead was so helpfully doing. She took up position on all fours, sweat dripping off all of her naked body, her mind whirling frantically but unable to get out of its lustful daze.

Peter positioned himself at the opening of her sex—she knew the wetness she felt on his cockhead was her own warm saliva, and the precum that had tasted so delicious on her tongue. He slid into her—Wanda moaned—then screamed as he fucked her cunt in a frenzy. Well-used to Mary Jane’s expertise in taking his overwhelming cock, Peter had little idea just how he was dominating Wanda by simply thrusting into her like she was his wife.

Wanda took his strokes on all fours like a mindless animal, mewling and whimpering as Peter moved in and out of her, his scrotum slapping against her thighs. Mary Jane reached under them and caught his swollen balls, fondling them as Peter increased the pace, fucking Wanda as hard as she could take, his hands clenched on her narrow waist, making sure she couldn’t go anywhere as his hips pumped in a gratifying rush.

Mary Jane squeezed his heavy balls with each powerful stroke Peter forced inside of Wanda—shaking her entire body with hard pumps into her unprepared cunt. With her other hand, Mary Jane reached into her panties and rubbed her clit. Peter’s work so often stole him away from her, so she was unfortunately well-acquainted with self-pleasure, but she’d have no problem at all with it if it always felt as good as this.

It went on for what felt like hours: Peter struggling not to come, Wanda struggling to stay sane under the influx of such pleasure, and Mary Jane not bothering with either of their self-restraint. Hopelessly possessed by the riot of sex before her, she worked her hand eagerly in her soaked panties, eyes and teeth clenched tightly slut as she shamelessly pleasured her cunt in an ever-increasing inferno of need. Finally, with her driving fingers making orgasm unavoidable, she squeezed Peter’s balls hard, knowing there was no injuring such a superhumanly resilient man, only pushing him to the same brutal excesses that MJ enjoyed when she was on the receiving end.

Peter let out a roar and came, Mary Jane holding onto his balls, feeling them spasm and coming along with him. He continued pistoning inside Wanda until the last drop of his cum had been deposited inside her.

For her part, Wanda’s orgasms had long since reached the double digits.

In the haze that followed their tripled climax, they somehow ended up lying underneath the coffee table, Mary Jane appropriately in the middle with one hand on Peter’s half-hard cock and the other tenderly caressing Wanda’s pubic hair. They sipped their gin and tonics, still delicious even with the ice melted, and the sound of one another’s gratified breathing was the sweetest song imaginable.

“So… Is that it?” Mary Jane asked, a little breathless.

“You expect me to take anymore?” Wanda replied, exasperated, then looked at Peter a little consideringly, with a shaky grin. She pinched her lips together. “Perhaps… to be sure it worked… one more time?”

In what seemed like no time at all, Peter’s manhood was throbbing in MJ’s hand, while Wanda was canting her hips, letting Mary Jane feel how her sex was warming up.