Like, a preview

Felicia whimpered softly as the strap-on slid out of her, dripping both her own juices and the fluids that had leaked over the mount with Selina’s own arousal. High-end lubricants and a few pharmaceutical enhancements had made her hornier than a jackrabbit, so that hours of relentless friction, interrupted only (‘only’) by her multiple orgasms, had left her with little but a dull ache. And she liked having it ache.

Who could’ve believed that she’d finally find someone to fuck her so fiercely, short of something Hulk fought (or Hulk himself) that’d be more likely to fuck her to death than cuddle her after. Or maybe Thor, but she heard he had a whole harem—Jane Foster, Sif, Amora, and most of them goddesses he could really hammer. No, even in this world, a mere mortal like her was lucky to have found someone, anyone, to bring her to a final, fulfilled satisfaction that she’d never dreamed existed.

Of course, it would be herself. Selina. Her alternate universe doppelganger, who was just as insatiable as her. If not more so.

A good sleep was almost as tempting as another aching, another painful climax—she imagined Selina’s overheated flesh turning cool, making for a plush pillow to rest her body on, the tangled sheets straightened out to cover them in comfort as chilled as good champagne. Absently, her hand caressed Selina’s smooth thigh, and she wondered if the moisture she felt was sweat or yet more of Selina’s abundant arousal.

“Is it possible for someone to die of too many orgasms?” Selina asked with a faint smile, rotating a finger piquantly on the head of her dildo. She seemed in disbelief over how wetly it dripped, how it still held the heat of Felicia’s deepest depths.

“If I haven’t, I don’t think you have to worry.”

“That’s right… greedy bitch.” Selina pulled her finger back like a snitch in the kitchen, licking Felicia’s taste from her fingertip. “What about from dehydration?”

“You thought of that. You don’t have to remind me.”

Beside the bed was a water cooler, though so expensive as to be more reminiscent of modern art than an open-plan office. For one thing, the water jug had some form of rose petals floating in it. They seemed to make the water slightly sweeter.

Felicia filled a cup and passed it to Selina, who gulped it down thirstily.

“Now who’s a greedy bitch?” Felicia teased. Her voice trembled, though. She was still recovering from the last of her multiple, at times simultaneous orgasms. “So what now, ‘sis’? Wanna use the trapeze agin? Or are you going to break down and call in reinforcement?” Felicia was virtually purring at the prospect.

“I’m not sure I could manage to please myself right now. Let alone you. Let alone a whole ‘nother person.”

Felicia brushed back her long, argent hair, flicking a few droplets of sweat from its wicked curls. “So why don’t you try pleasing yourself… and I’ll watch… and if your hand cramps, I’ll take over?”

“Or how about we go to sleep?” Selina replied. “And have some wet dreams.”

“Oh, come on, we’ve barely even started!” Felicia looked down at the eternal erection of Selina’s strap-on with a gleam in her eyes. “We haven’t even broken one dildo…”

Selina gulped uneasily. “We’ve been in bed all day. It’s been ten hours…”

“That’s what the cocaine is for.” Felicia reached to the nightstand, coming back with a mirrored tray. “Wanna do a line?”

“I want to sleep. And to never watch Blue Is The Warmest Color again.”

Felicia rolled her eyes. “Spider-Man wouldn’t need sleep.”

“Your Spider-Man, maybe. Here it’s a different story.”

“Oh, what, is Spider-Man Gwen Stacy?” Felicia shook her head. “Because that would just be stupid.”

“No, he’s just a total sub. At least with me. Reserves the other setting of the switch for whoever he’s dating.”

“But he can still come, like, twenty times, right?”

Selina headbutted the pillow behind her. “What is it with you and Peter? Is he your boyfriend or something? Because I thought the closest thing you had to a significant other was me.”

“You are! You’re me! Well, like, more me. But Peter… it was like he completed me. Balanced me. And if he’s a sub, that could be really interesting…”

Selina rolled onto her side, away from Felicia. “Okay, so I’m not enough for you by twenty or so orgasms. Good to know.”

“Don’t be like that. How many threesomes have we had? How many orgies have we been to?”

“Yeah, but we always go home together. I thought that was why you stayed. Partners in crime, remember? I thought we were as complete as we were gonna get.”

“It’s not like I’m in love with the guy or anything!”

“No. Just obsessed with him.”

“It’s called an open relationship, Selina. If you don’t like me satisfying my own needs with someone, maybe you’re the one that’s obsessed.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t talk about how much you miss his dick right in front of me!”

“Maybe I won’t!” Felicia replied, her voice raised to a shout. “It’s not as if yours is doing me any good anyway!”

Leaping out of bed, Felicia stomped, naked, to snatch up her catsuit from the floor.

“Where are you going?” Selina demanded.

“Out!”

Selina groaned. “Sleep in the guest bedroom, we can talk in the morning—“

“No, no, it’s fine—“

“Then I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom—“

“I’m not tired.”

“Because you’ve been doing bumps of coke every time the cuckoo clock rings.”

“That thing’s annoying as shit, by the way.”

“Okay, fine, we can go one more round—“

“What does that have to do with the cuckoo clock?”

“Now we’re fighting about the cuckoo clock?”

With an epically bad sense of timing, the cuckoo clock went off then. Roaring in frustration, Felicia ripped it from the wall and slammed it to the floor. Some gems spilled out of the blown springs and dashed woodwork.

“I was hiding the crown jewels of Budapest in there,” Selina explained.

“Put them in your bra like I do!”

“There’s no room!”

Felicia slammed the door behind her.