0 comments/ 5793 views/ 21 favorites Felicitations Ch. 01 By: Zev95 Felicia lay naked in bed, listening to the rain hit her building. He really wasn't coming. Peter was not her boyfriend anymore. She'd gone out and robbed a joint, but even that hadn't put a dint in her frustrations. Nor had spilling out her loot—all the cash money and one ornate scepter—onto her bed and lying upon it, momentarily using the scepter as a backscratcher. She was in for a long, lonely night. And why? Why? Because Peter couldn't take someone just as outside the law as he was? Because the same cops who couldn't arrest the real criminals went after her for stealing from them? She'd gotten away with less than half the loot she should've. She was freshly bathed, all made up, with a dab of Spider's favorite perfume behind each ear and under each breast—young, beautiful, and turned on, every man's dream. And she was alone. It just wasn't right. Felicia bit her lip in frustration, remembering Peter's cock in her starved cunt, how big it'd been, how satisfying. But he was too much a puritan to give it to her. If only she had gotten to him sooner—when he was young and naïve, willing to accept her lessons in life. She'd seen the news footage. He'd been cute... malleable... Wiggling about on the actually somewhat uncomfortable bed of cash, Felicia ran her hands over her sleek body. She was somewhat embarrassed about it—not the act, but the fact that she couldn't get someone to do it for her—but there was no choice. She touched herself. She cupped her tits, squeezing them, molding them, thumbs rubbing her nipples into stiffness. Pushing her vast mammaries upward, she was able to reach them with her mouth, and she lathered both nipples with her tongue as she sucked. All the while she pictured Peter making love to her, his hands soothing her tingling breasts, his tongue hot and wet on her nipples, his hand between her thighs... "God, yes..." she moaned. "Peter..." Not the judgmental, responsible man he'd become, but a younger man... a boy, really... *** Felicia looked her house guest over as he rested on the chaise lounge. It was hard to tell when he was in constant, scurrying motion, but asleep, she could see how his slender frame was packed with muscles, his body hard and trim, but obviously young. From her experience, she guessed that he was only eighteen, perhaps even younger. She sipped her tea, waiting patiently as consciousness returned to him. His gloved fingers twitching, his head turning from side to side, lips parting under his mask. He jerked up suddenly, alert and surprised. "Where am I? What's going on here?" "Relax, Spider," Felicia said, not moving as he took her in. She knew how good she looked, and while the sight of her in an only modesty fastened robe might've been intimidating, it wasn't threatening. Nor was their environment of her swanky penthouse. It wasn't like she'd left any of her toys out, after all. "You're safe. In my home." "Cat?" he said, belatedly recognizing her without her famous costume. They'd had one or two run-ins and Felicia knew he considered her something of an annoyance, but not a real danger. He checked to see if his mask was on or not, and Felicia guessed he had some way of knowing if it had been removed or not, because he calmed down after he'd checked it. "You had a fight with Doctor Octopus, got knocked out. I brought you here. Figured you wouldn't want to wake up in a police station. So what happened? From what little I saw of the battle royale, you looked a little sluggish. Weren't even quipping that much." He sighed. "Serves me right for going into battle sick. But I don't exactly get sick days with this gig." "Oh, poor baby. Let me get you a warm drink..." His mask might've covered all his face, but Felicia could tell he stared as she uncrossed her legs and stood, revealing the hose and garter belt underneath her robe. They stretched seamlessly over her pale skin as her legs pumped, taking her to the kitchen, where she had a pot of chocolate on the stove. She mixed a spoonful into a mug of milk, nuked it in the microwave, and came back. Spider-Man had still not stopped staring at her, and Felicia couldn't blame him. She knew hot she looked. "I'm a big fan, Spider. Loved you on the Ed Sullivan Show. So glad you've decided to embrace the outlaw lifestyle instead of becoming a boring old Avenger. If only you were a little better at it. The Bugle seems to know all about your heists, but all my colleagues just know you from getting beaten up and taken to jail." Spider-Man looked up sharply as she set his hot cocoa down on the coffee table. "I'm not an outlaw. I just have a very, very bad PR guy." "Have you tried dressing up in skintight leather with partially exposed cleavage?" Felicia asked innocently. "It works wonders for me." "Got an editorial about skintight spandex and rock-hard abs corrupting the youth of America." Spider-Man pulled up his mask to over his nose, taking the cocoa and drinking some. His jaw was crisply square, clean-shaven, with white teeth underneath his chapstick lips. It confirmed Felicia's suspicions that he was quite handsome, though from the way he carried himself this was subconscious knowledge, and not something he actually knew. "Why are you doing this? Why help me?" "Consider it my charitable donation. If I paid taxes, you'd be my write-off. I make an awful lot of money, you save an awful lot of lives... I should be taking care of you. Subsidizing you. Giving you the support you need to keep saving people and jailing crooks. Well... some crooks." "I can take care of myself," Spider-Man protested. "Oh? You look flushed. In fact, I think you're running a temperature." She came over to him, putting her hand on his forehead. It was hot even through the mask. Spider-Man lurched away from her, deeper into the cushions he was lying on. "It's just hot in here. And the costume's a little stuffy. And I always run a little warm after I get my ass kicked." "Now, Spider, is that the truth?" Felicia asked, sweeping her white hair from her brow, leaning in on him so her breasts were thrust in his face. She could see how he stiffened, confronted with ripe breasts only inches from his face. Felicia waited for him to lean forward, smother himself in them, but he was too young and inexperienced to meet her halfway. He lay there, squirming, as Felicia petted his hair through the mask. Her tits right in front of his face. His prick throbbing harder and harder. "You've definitely got a temperature, little man. Why don't you lie down in my bed? It's much more comfortable. I'll get a thermometer and take your temperature." Spider-Man shook his head. Probably wanted to go someplace private where he could jack off while thinking about her. Felicia wasn't offended by the notion, but she would rather be nearby while he did it. Someplace where he could come all over her. "I'll be fine, I should go—" Felicia put her hand under his chin, raising his face until her own gorgeous reflection was in his mask's lenses. She knew how striking her blue eyes were, put full force against his. He could not be looking anywhere else. "I'm not letting you go until I'm sure you don't have a fever. You're a hero, Spider. I won't have you biting the dust because you're not at a hundred percent. Especially with that cute ass you've got." She smiled, canting her head at just the right angle so now he could see nothing but her luscious lips. And, as if hypnotized, Spider-Man nodded his head. Felicia never felt his eyes leave her gleaming lipstick. He wanted to kiss her. Almost as much as she wanted him to. She grabbed his arm and helped him up. He was still weak, stumbling against her for support. Or maybe just to wrap his arm around her waist, feel some of her lovely flesh through the thin white robe. Felicia, for her part, glanced at his crotch and almost burst out laughing. Definitely a teenager. She was good, but not good enough to give someone that big a hard-on with just a little show and tell. She couldn't wait to have it out in the open. Her robe fell even further open as she led him to the bedroom, a bare shoulder slipping out as it sagged down her body. She picked up a pillow and turned around as she fluffed it, holding it in front of her crotch. The open robe revealed a broad swath of skin right down the middle, broken only by the hanging, loosening belt, giving the impression that she was naked from the waist down, though behind the pillow, her panties still hid her. She could see Spider-Man shaking. She turned again, setting the pillow down, then pulled Spider-Man to the bed, never turning his front to him. It was a neat little feather dance as she turned away just as he laid down, letting him see the robe further slip from her as she went to fetch the thermometer. It shimmied down over her bare back just as she closed the door behind her, then Spider-Man was alone with her bed and the smell of her and her bra discarded on the bedspread. She reappeared, the belt of her robe retied, its material once more covering her. Now it was pulled so tight that her breasts could be seen through the thin cloth, her whole body outlined and silhouetted and almost on display for him. Felicia shook the thermometer as she approached him. He thought she didn't, behind the concealing mask, how his eyes were following her swaying hips, but that was of course the only reason they swayed. "Comfortable?" He was tense, desperate to jump out of bed and run somewhere where he could deal with all his urges, but also needing more of the sight of her, the closeness of her. "I'm really alright," he said unconvincingly. "I should go..." "Not before I take your temperature." His mask was still above his lips. "Open wide, now." Spider-Man opened his mouth, then his teeth closed around the thermometer. Felicia sat down next to him, her ass resting against his waist. "You're really sweating," Felicia said, running her hand over his throat. "You must be really hot. Let's get that shirt off. What's the harm? I can't very well know your secret from your stomach." If Spider-Man tried to protest, it was muffled by the thermometer he obediently kept clasped in his teeth. Felicia pulled the shirttails from the waist of his pants, out from under some kind of belt that cleverly concealed the join in the two halves of his costume. She pushed the shirt up his chest, running her hands over his wiry muscles as she did so. "Oh! You're burning up, Spider. Sit up, now. I need that shirt off." Spider-Man trembled, the thermometer bobbing in his mouth as he was helped up into a sitting position, his body pressing up against Felicia's, her breasts brushing against his sweaty chest. She could hear him moan, torn between staying and going. Felicia leaned in just a little closer as she peeled his shirt up his limp arms, letting her warm breath play at the nape of his neck. When the shirt had cleared his head, he saw that Felicia's face was right next to his. Her lips inches from his. Then she let him lie back down, his sweaty back taken by the cool bedspread. Felicia hid her laughter behind a smile. "Oh, Spider—I think I know why you're sweating! That would make me sweat too..." Felicia's eyes were down at his manhood, stingingly erect, and Spider-Man's were drawing up in his head. Felicia could tell just from the angle of his head. He was wishing he was dead, thinking he'd ruined things. "It can't be comfortable," Felicia said. "Having a big thing like that stuck in such tight pants. We'll let it out. You'll rest easier that way..." The thermometer quivered like a broken metronome in Spider-Man's mouth as Felicia reached for him, her fingers grazing the tented bulge in his pants. It lurched and throbbed, trying to get into her grip. Felicia ignored it for now, gripping the waistline of his pants. "Just pretend I'm your mother," Felicia said. "I promise not to look." And she jerked his pants down. He hadn't been fully erect before. More like half-hard, and the costume had done a lot to hide just how aroused he'd been. Now she could see the precum dripping from his cockhead, smell it on the inside of his pants, see just how big he really was. It wasn't hard for Felicia to pretend to be awed. "Spider! Good God! Is that for me?" A blush turned Spider-Man's exposed face crimson, matching the mercury rising in his thermometer. "I guess I should apologize. I didn't know I was... affecting you like that. I mean, how could I know you like girls, running around in that outfit... was that really me?" Spider-Man nodded his head. "I'm so sorry," Felicia said in a consoling voice, pulling the covers over Spider-Man's namesake... at least, the second half of it. "But it looks like we have something in common. I'm not exactly... unaffected at the moment." "What?" Spider-Man demanded, packing into that one word how he couldn't believe his ears, how he'd sooner believe he was going crazy, how he was just full of cum and couldn't believe he wasn't getting it out... Felicia bit her lip. He really was cherry. She'd dropped enough hints to start a gangbang at a nunnery, and he hadn't even tried to kiss her. She had him, she knew she did. It was time to reel him in. Slowly, Felicia lifted the hem of her robe. Up, up, up her thighs. "See, Spider, women get excited, same as men. Look. C'mon, Spider. Just look..." The thermometer fell from Spider-Man's mouth, rolling gently down into his clavicle. "This is my pussy, Spider. Ever seen one before?" Spider-Man shook his head vigorously, the doll. "Doesn't matter. None of them look as good as mine. And it gets excited, just like you do. My clitoris gets nice and firm, just like your cock. See it?" Spider-Man nodded, thank God. With Felicia sitting the way she was, he should be able to see to her womb... "When I look at you... look at your body... that big cock, and it is big, Spider, really big... my pussy gets all wet. Can you see how wet I am, Spider?" Another nod. "Do you want to feel how wet I am?" Spider-Man gulped so hard, the thermometer rolled off his throat and onto the bed, making a little ping against the sheets. He stared right into the core of Felicia's wet, warm cunt. Finally, he managed to nod his head, one last time. Felicia picked up his hand like it was a beloved pet, removing the glove, kissing and stroking the sweat-damp hairs in back of his hand, kissing the knuckles, even sucking on his forefinger. "Oh... whoa..." Spider-Man groaned. Then Felicia took his hand and brought his fingers against the lips of her pussy, rubbing them there, letting him feel just how ready she was to be entered. "Oh, goddamn..." Felicia moaned. "Did I hurt you?" Spider-Man asked, sounding hopelessly confused. "Oh, no. It felt good. So goddamn good..." She drew the sheets away from his cock. It was just as hard as before. "Just like this..." And she touched him. Squeezed him. Rubbed him. Felt a tug as Spider-Man pulled at her panties, and lifted her legs so he could work them off. She jerked on his cock. He fingered her pussy. She laid on his chest, watching her hand travel his shaft, his hand at work between her legs, breathing and moaning and feeling his body burn so very hot. She was amazed at how much was leaking from the tip of his cock. Where was all that precum stored? Didn't matter. Soon it would be all hers. "We're gonna fuck now, Spider." Felicia rolled over onto her stomach, drawing the pillow from the other side of the bed to down under her hips, lifting her ass comfortably high. Making it a particularly appetizing target. "I'm all horny... and juicy... ready to be fucked hard." *** When she'd first started fucking herself, Felicia had felt ridiculous, but as her need grew, she got used to it. Peter was the only one who could satisfy her urges—without him, his stamina, his strength, what was there to do but this or give up sex completely? Sure, she could get a quick fuck anywhere, but not the hard, marathon sessions she got when she had Peter on the hook. So she lay in bed alone, running a stiff finger along the folds of her sex, giving herself a weak buzz of pleasure. Soon, she would move onto the good stuff, even with the inevitable disappointment of it not truly measuring up. There was no hurry, though. No big rush like there was with Spider. At least this way, she knew how to get herself off. How to string out the pleasure and make it last as long as she wanted. Or until her wrist cramped. Sometimes it was the latter, sometimes the former. Her kneading fingers brought her right to the edge of climax, then slowed. She rolled her clit gently under her other hand, hovering right at the brink of coming, not yet going over the edge. Sweet agony. She ached to climax, but didn't want it to be as low-key as she knew it would be. "God, Goooooood," she moaned. *** Spider-Man fucked her hard, crouched behind her like a dog, squeezing her tits underneath her as he raced his cock into her pussy. Felicia lay comfortably in her relaxing position, thinking that she could stay for hours like this. And it was possible her Spider-Man would last that long. "Come on, Spider!" Felicia wiggled and humped her ass against him, biting her lip as her slippery pussy slid over the driving power of his cock. "That's right, fuck me hard! Harder!" The phone rang just as Spider-Man was finding his rhythm, groping Felicia's breasts and hammering her cunt, his preternatural balance keeping him poised over her despite his inhuman stance. Felicia laughed happily—just perfect—and stretched her arm off the bed, picking up her mobile from the nightstand. Spider-Man paused and she slapped her ass, signaling him to keep going. She wasn't going to let him stop fucking her for someone too stupid to text her. "What is it?" Felicia demanded into the receiver, lazily humping her pussy onto Spider-Man's cock. Despite her wishes, he'd slowed down. "Everything's set up for the Montgnerro Job. Eddie got the plans, Bill's got the drill. You'll be there tomorrow." "Oh yes." Felicia smiled to herself. "I'll be coming." Felicia hung up the phone and giggled as she threw her pussy back against Spider-Man's cock, slamming her ass into his muscular loins, grinding her sex against his. "What was that about?" Spider-Man asked, gliding his big cock easily into her, finally responding to her body's rhythm, finding that special pleasing pattern once more. "Just a job I'll be pulling tomorrow," Felicia sighed. "You know... breaking in somewhere... stealing some shit... you don't mind, do you?" "No," Spider-Man said, and Felicia shivered like an animal as her well-stuffed sex throbbed with pleasure. With satisfaction. "I just want you to be happy." "Mmmmm... that sounds about right... but never mind that now, just fuck me, just fuck my pussy good, that's it, that's right, that's—" Spider-Man redoubled the intensity of his thrusting, hammering himself in and out of her cunt. Felicia could no longer speak, just groan as she whipped her ass up to meet his penetration, the bed shaking with their coupling. "Your pussy," Spider-Man gasped, like a man in a trance, "your wet pussy..." Felicia's mouth fell open as he stopped. Trying to figure out why her pussy was throbbing and clenching around his cock. Felicia didn't seem to mind his pause. For nearly a minute she was eerily silent, and it was all Spider-Man could do to keep from coming as her pussy continued its pulsing. "Coming," Felicia said at last. "Unh... unh... yes!" She moaned and lay exhausted under him, yet still almost painfully aroused. "Oh... you could've fucked into me as hard you liked... I would've loved it..." "I didn't want to come," Spider-Man said. "You mean you haven't?" Felicia said in genuine surprise. She thought he had, and she'd just missed it, lost in her own pleasure. "Oh, you man... you wonderful man... keeping that big fucker stiff for me..." She tightened her sex on his rod, feeling just how hard he was. Hard and still full of cum. "You know what would make me really happy?" Felicitations Ch. 01 "What?" "Two things. One, if you told me your name. And two, if you fucked my ass." *** There were many ways for Felicia to bring herself to orgasm, but only one that truly reminded her of Peter. She bunched three fingers together, gave them all at once to her famished little cunt. They were almost as thick as his cock, though not as long. "Yess," Felicia groaned. "Oh, shit, yes!" She stuffed herself with her bunched fingers, pushing them as deep as she could go, almost believing that it was Peter thrusting into her, what she craved most, what she needed. "Yes, Peter, yes!" she squealed. It wouldn't take her long to get off. She could come at any time. But she felt like prolonging it, denying herself like Peter might, trying to be mad at her but always giving in and satisfying her. The bittersweet sensation of having this delicious feeling as long as she could. Felicia touched herself slowly and deeply, moaning with delight, only gradually approaching the orgasm she so desperately needed until finally, she hovered at the brink once more. Gorging herself on the throbs she got from every thrust of her fingers. It would be easy to make herself come—as easy as surrendering to Peter ever had been—but it was so nice to stretch out the fun, to make the pleasure last until it was almost pain. She stroked herself gently, deeply, and saturated her fingers with the cat's own cream. *** His mask joining Felicia's robe and lingerie on the floor, Peter withdrew his wet cock from Felicia, the cat burglar gasping as he spread her ass cheeks with his hands. They might've been gleaming with lubricant, but he had no difficulty holding onto them. He aimed his cockhead at her rosy opening, and Felicia, naked but for her pantyhose, whimpered as she felt him boring into her ass. "Fuck my asshole, Peter," she sighed lovingly, rocking tirelessly against the penetration he offered. "Fuck my asshole and fuck it deep!" Peter drove himself into her tight ass, eager to fuck his new girlfriend all night. She tingled all over with pleasure. Any fears about letting such a big dick into her ass were burnt away by the heat of her anticipation. Spider-Man, superhero, teenager, good guy, had just fucked her cunt. Now he was going to do the same to her asshole. The wickedness of it heightened Felicia's pleasure like an opiate. Peter moved his cock inside Felicia's hole, holding the firm, rounded cheeks of her ass wide apart so he could see how every centimeter of her sphincter stretched to take him inside. Felicia wiggled her ass around his cock, turning her head to look back over her shoulder at him with a pleased, sexual smile. Every bulldozing stroke of his cock was met with a wanton little jerk of her hips, offering up her penetration to him as shamelessly as she'd presented the rest of her body. Feelings hot and wicked were mounting within her, things she knew she wouldn't be able to control, and Felicia didn't want to. It was his heavy testicles slapping against her sex, the friction of a big cock in her ass, the sheer youth of the man fucking her, a thousand other things mingling together to take Felicia's pleasure far beyond the simple sensation of being sodomized. She wanted more. Like a drug, she was addicted, and best of all, she knew her virile young lover could give it to her. She only wished it could go on forever, but it wasn't so bad that eventually, Peter would come inside her. It just meant she could corrupt him even further. Show him how to fuck her tits, or use her throat as just another fuck-hole. Maybe even learn to be part of a team and help her commit a robbery—or help someone else to fuck her. As good as he was, he only had one prick, after all. Unless he could get very creative with that webbing of his... Peter listened as Felicia's guttural whispers grew loud, her pleasure obviously mounting. Her sex was dripping, juices simply running out of her emptiness, while her firm, succulent ass wagged and twisted against him, moving back and forth around his cock with her hips swaying from side to side. "God, that's tight," he grunted, unaware he had spoken until Felicia responded to him. "It's because I don't let anyone—but very special people fuck me there," Felicia whimpered. "And you're very special... and your cock feels so good... and I wish I could see it! Make me come just seeing you fuck my ass, Spider!" "Next time!" Peter promised. "We'll set up a camera—so we can both watch me fuck your tight little ass—" "Just the two of us?" Felicia teased, shivering at the deliciously arousing thought. Peter rammed his cock in and out of her asshole, holding firmly onto her voluptuous hips, watching her fleshy ass ripple from the pounding it was taking. He felt her sphincter tugging at the length of his turgid rod, up and down—milking and sucking him—squeezing his cock like a tightly clenched fist. "Take it, Cat!" he growled, his voice sounding like nothing he had ever spoken before. "Take it just like that! Show me how much you like my cock up your ass!" He didn't need to order Felicia. His cock was giving her all the encouragement she needed. The Black Cat lurched, her ass thrusting back at Peter with shameless need, teeth grinding together as she took his fucking and demanding more. Feeling every inch of his hard young prick inside her, penetrating her like she had never thought possible. "Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man! It's never felt like this before! Oh, God, fuck my ass! Give me every inch!" "I am, Cat!" Peter panted, his eyes locked to the sight of Felicia's asshole clinging wetly to his cock. "Uhhh! I had no idea what I was missing out on!" "I know, Spider!" Felicia mewled. "The only trouble is, I was missing out on it too!" "You're not gonna miss out on anything!" Peter promised her. "Not ever again!" Felicia moaned as her new lover quickened the pace of his fucking, her receiving. "How about two cocks fucking you at once?" Peter grinned. "One in that horny cunt of yours... the other fucking your tight ass! You'd like that, wouldn't you Cat?" "Yes! Yes, I would! Two cocks at once! I'd fucking love it!" Felicia could feel his cock pulsating inside her, just as good in her asshole as it had been in her cunt. God, it would be just as good anywhere, between her tits, in her hand, just so long as it was hers. She'd liked to just be able to look at it in those damned, teasing tights, knowing that when he took them off, it was all for her. Felicia twisted her hips, grinding backward onto his cock, squealing excitedly as more went into her ass, more, always more. "Uhh! Uhh! Uhhh!" Peter grunted, stabbing deeply. "You're still so fucking tight!" Felicia reached for her cunt, sliding two fingers instantly inside herself. She jammed them in deep, rubbing her aching clit with the heel of her hand. She could feel her flesh jittering like an earthquake with Peter's cock slamming into it, in and out of her quivering ass. "Fuck my ass! Fuck my ass! Mmmmmm, make me feel your cock going in all the way! I love it! I love you fucking my brains out!" Driven wild by her wanton need, Peter jammed his cock into her ass as hard as he could. Felicia simply whimpered with pleasure, trying to fuck her cunt just as deeply with fingers that were simply not up to the task. Erotic excitement raced through her heated flesh. She could feel her man's cock in her ass from the fingers in her cunt. Every time he pulled back, she thrust her fingers deep inside herself. The drag of his cock in her ass while her own fingers speared her cunt burned her brain like electric fire. Felicia's clit bulged under her hand, a tight little knot of pleasure as her mind fled to even more lewd, exciting fantasies... images of two Spider-Men, ridiculous as that was, fucking her at the same time, one in her cunt, one in her ass, cocks as hard as steel, filling her body until it could take no more. Her mind touched ultimate rapture. She was coming again. Or had she ever stopped? "I want you to come, Cat!" Peter demanded, fucking her ass with frantic thrusts, the wet sounds of her pussy and the slaps of flesh against flesh nearly drowning out her voice. "Come all over your fingers while I fuck! Your! Ass!" For once in her life, Felicia obeyed, pushing her hips at Peter with wild abandon as he pounded her ass just as savagely, strong rapid thrusts that shook her whole body, breasts bounding, ass jiggling, hair flying about them like debris from an explosion. "Ooooh, FUCK! I'M COMING!" She rubbed her clit frantically, feeling herself come once, twice, she lost count, her orgasms coming in such rapid succession that it was like a chain reaction, a series of bombs going off in her body all at once. "NOW, BABY, NOW! SHOOT IT UP MY FUCKING ASS!" Peter grunted as he felt her ass squeeze his cock with a tightness that almost seemed like an attack. "COME IN MY ASS! EMPTY THOSE BIG BALLS UP MY ASSHOLE, I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT SO MUCH! FILL ME UP, PETER! PUT ALL THAT HOT CUM INSIDE ME! IT'S SO GOOD!" Within seconds, Peter climaxed into Felicia's quivering ass, and as Felicia felt his hot young cum fill her, she came as well, screaming out in uncontrollable ecstasy. Peter roared as he gave what she wanted, what she needed, what they both did. His cum filled her ass, overflowed it, washing against his pubic hair and pushing it on his cock until he just had to pull out. More cum flew from his, tracing the lines of Felicia's back, her strong muscles, her bare shoulders, cum stringing up her spine and pooling in the small of her back, even landing as far as her hair, though it was hard to tell the difference with her pale blondeness. Finally, with Felicia filled and covered and still half-orgasming, Peter ran dry. His cum flowed down Felicia's body like melting candle wax, a ribbon of it between the globes of Felicia's ass like she'd won first prize in a contest. A lock of hair fell from atop Felicia's head. Clotted with cum, it slapped against Felicia's cheek, and she returned from her daze as much as she was able. "This is where... all your cum has to go... the next time you're full, come to me and we'll take care of it..." "Alright, but it usually takes an hour or two," Peter said. "Not that I masturbate too much, though—have to buy a new sock every time..." Felicia closed her eyes and slept. It might be the last chance she got for a while. *** Once she had her fingers in, Felicia's mind raced with the possibilities. Her orgasm had been wonderful—the fantasy superb—but one advantage fantasy had over reality was that there was nothing to pull Peter away from her, no emergency, no obligations. In her mind, Peter was her love slave. Nothing more, nothing less. Her fingers stayed between her legs, increasing excitement as she thought. She'd always figured if stealing wasn't so much fun, she could make her fortune thinking up sex toys. She had a fantastic collection of them: vibrators, dildos, a collection of rare and antique toys, whips, chains, even bottles. And there was always something new to try. Felicia stood, her hand still rubbing idly at her cunt. She went to her dressing table, opening up the drawer with this month's rotation, selecting a fat plastic dildo for her sex and a nylon string for her ass. She'd put it around the neck of the scepter she'd just stolen, so she could pull it out easily. When she was done with it... *** The doorbell rang. Felicia managed to rouse herself. Thankfully, Peter wasn't a cuddler—though perhaps her sleeping covered in cum had discouraged that. She slipped out of bed, drawing up her robe, pulling it tightly around herself—figuring she'd answered the door in worse states. However, when she opened it, all that was there was a simple box. "What is it?" Peter asked. He was in the doorway to her bedroom, gathering up pieces of his costume, appearing none too shy about his nudity. "Just something for you to wear after your shower." She opened it up, revealing the neatly pressed suit inside. "I measured you while you were sleeping, ordered this online. My tailors are very motivated to keep me happy. Can't wait to see you in it." Peter dropped his costume. "Yeah, sure. Where's the shower, again?" Felicia smiled. "Let me show you." *** Felicia lay spread-eagle on the bed, her dildo and her scepter—appropriate for a queen—between her wide-spread legs. First, though, she adjusted the mirror on the headboard, then piled pillows underneath herself. Soon, the reflection captured her sex and its doomed emptiness, gaping from the recent occupancy of her fingers. Waiting to be filled. She took the scepter and rolled it against her sex to lubricate it, her inner lips stretching over the cool glass as she dipped its head inside herself. Soon, the cylinder had picked up a slippery coating. She pulled it free. *** All she had to help with was the tie, then he was admiring himself in the mirror. "This is nice," he said, truthfully. "Be a shame to bundle it up in a web so I can take it home..." "Oh, you don't think I'm going to let you swing up and down Manhattan in your condition? Come on. Let me show you the car." *** Now that the scepter was greased, she pressed it into the dark spot central her ass, carefully pushing—boring down with her ass until she felt that wonderful, earned sliding. Once her asshole was wide enough, it went in easily, and the feeling of having her ass filled with the bulk of the scepter was heavenly. Before anything else, she wiggled her hips around, letting the delicious feeling fill her and elevate her. *** The Koenigsegg Agera R was almost too much car for Peter to drive, but with his reflexes, he could handle it like a NASCAR man. They came to his house in Forest Hills, Peter smiling sheepishly as they pulled up to the quaint suburban home. "I can help you find a penthouse, if you like," Felicia said. "Don't worry about the rent, either—so long as you don't worry about me having a key." "That... sounds fine," Peter said, surprised. "And speaking of keys..." Felicia tapped the one in the ignition. "Keep it. You need some way to visit me that doesn't involve shooting goo everywhere. At least, not initially." "Felicia, I don't know what to say!" "Say that we'll do this again tomorrow night. I have a museum opening to attend and I'd love to have you on my arm. Perhaps in a nice tux? I'll send you one. It'll be boring, but I'm planning an afterparty for you, and that you'll love." "I think I might love it right now," Peter said, and pulled her into a kiss. Then a lower one, and one that was lower still... "Oh, Peter! And here I thought I was the one spoiling you..." His eyes flashed up at her, dancing brightly through the gauzy material of her dress as he swirled his tongue about her inflamed labia. She could see how the taste of her had him trembling, hardening. Felicia laughed and opened up the car's console. Inside, an ice bucket and a bottle of wine. Just the thing to go with eating out... *** "Oh, ohh, Peter, you're making me shake so hard! Suck me, I don't care if I fall, suck me dry!" Felicia couldn't believe it. The scepter fell wonderful in her ass, perfect, and her fantasy was so real, so vivid, it was like someone was actually eating her out. Then she opened her eyes. Between her legs was a head of white hair, just like her own, her own brash and strong-jawed face looking up at her, mouthing "Yes... ysmphf!" into her cunt as she shook her head around vigorously, like a predator that had caught her prey and was now making the kill. She drove Felicia to the brink of frenzy, then gently kissed the swollen cunt lips, a soft kiss directly on them, petite and lovely, becoming a dance of her tongue inside Felicia's dripping sex, a motion of her lips on Felicia's labia... then the suction of her lips drawing one of Felicia's labia lips inside her mouth, running over it, letting it in and out of her mouth before releasing it and encircling Felicia's clit, the cat burglar throwing her thighs wide open, lifting her legs into the air, surrendering to this sex before she even knew what it was. Felicia was coming hard against her doppelganger's mouth, providing her a supply of cream that seemed barely enough to quench her obvious thirst. "My name's not Peter," the mirror image said. "It's Felicity. And yes, I like eating your pussy. And no, I don't know what you're doing in my bedroom." Her mouth did not leave the wonderful taste she had discovered. "But you're definitely staying." Felicitations Ch. 02 After Felicia had come—again—Felicity rose up over her on the bed. Felicia's moist and so recently sexual body, an image of her own from the outside looking in, was unbelievably sensual to her. She married her hand to Felicia's, all the fingers the same length, the fingerprints nestling together perfect, then moved her fingers up Felicia's wrist, up her arm, the slender muscle of her bicep—sliding to her warm breast. "You must be from some parallel universe," Felicity figured. "We get those from time to time. 616, right?" Felicia tried to remember if Peter had ever said that in one of his nerdy lectures. "Yeah. I think so." "Yeah. The prude universe. We're pretty close in the multiverse or whatever. Goodness, you are all wet, aren't you?" She grabbed a hand towel from the nightstand—oddly, they were hung on a bar in the front like it was a bathroom—and began wiping up Felicia's juices from her thighs. Felicia smiled happily as she did. "Momma told me all sorts of things would happen if I kept playing with myself, but she never mentioned this." "And you were using this?" Felicity held up the scepter. Felicia trembled just looking at it. "Well... guess we know how you got here." "Not a very scientific analysis," Felicia judged. "We should do another experiment. See what happens if I masturbate without the scepter before jumping to any conclusions." Felicity grinned. "Spider would be so pleased..." Unconsciously, Felicia undulated her belly to Felicity's rubbing. She knew how erotic the sudden sway of her body was, all of wiggling, jiggling, dancing in place—one tantalizing, luscious bit of sexual candy. Felicity dropped the towel. She kept rubbing. "You don't seem very prudish," she observed. "Sure you're from 616?" "Back home, I'm a slut." "Here, you're an amateur." "Maybe I should stick around for a while. Take in the sights..." "You can take in plenty," Felicity offered, boldly feeling inside of her double. It was like masturbating, only not—feeling the way her own pussy clenched and trembled, only from the inside, numb to the sensations she was causing, but able to see their effect. It was delicious, feeling her own body heat, her own slickness, but doubled. Mirrored. She found Felicia's clit, as hard as hers was. "I have a proposition for you." "I think I'm taking your proposition right now—" Felicity laughed, feeling wonderfully excessive, decadent. The luxurious feel of a really good masturbation. She brought out her fingers and delicately sniffed Felicia's juices—hers, only a little more exotic. Her body on fire, she crawled forward, laying squarely on top of Felicia's nudity, wanting to either quench the flames or burn together. "You like sex and stealing shit?" Felicity asked. "Where do you think I got the scepter?" "No way of knowing, considering how many people tell us to shove it up our ass." "What did our ass ever do to them?" It truly aroused her, Felicia's soft, warm body, still moist from her masturbation, from their fucking, if there was any difference. Felicity loved being in her own body—so healthy, so powerful, so beautiful, such a weapon. Feeling Felicia's incredible breasts press into her own was like being fully conscious of her flesh, aroused and alive like she'd just run a marathon, stolen a priceless jewel, fucked Spider-Man—only more so. She felt like she was in her body and Felicia's as well. Counting her fingers, she was. Felicia, her face clearly showing the same engagement, took Felicity's cheeks between her hands, staring at the impromptu mirror as if gratified she was as beautiful as she'd always known. "Spider says pictures, mirrors, they don't really capture how we really look. Pictures get a static image; doesn't look right. Mirrors reverse everything. We never know how we really look... except for us." "We're so fucking hot," Felicity said. "So are we." Felicia wet her lips, half closed her eyes, and smiled daringly at Felicity. Her body was still burning wet from before. Felicity wanted hers to feel exactly how Felicia's looked. She brought her lips down on Felicia's; Felicia's lips melted under hers. They tasted soft flesh, the sweet syrup of Felicia from when Felicity had eaten her out—or was it the other way around? Felicia pulled back, looked at Felicity's beautiful lips, plump and rich with arousal, wet and inviting. She gave her more kisses, hotly trying their inviting need. Felicity's breath blasted against her mouth, sweetly excited. Suddenly, with exultation, Felicia realized what she could do. "Mary Jane's going to be so thrilled," she muttered. "I'm finally going to go fuck myself." There was a blush on Felicia's face that had nothing to do with embarrassment, and Felicity gently rubbed herself against Felicia, feeling the exotic symmetry of their bodies meeting—bellies, breasts, legs, arms. It all fit together, synchronized by their identical lust. "I have a job tonight," Felicity said. "I could use an extra pair of hands." "That the only pair you could use?" Felicia asked, rolling on top of Felicity, rising up her body to offer her huge breasts to Felicity's hungry gaze. Sweaty and reddened, they were practically glowing, the nipples turgid. Felicity's pink tongue came out to stroke the left one. Felicia gasped in pleasure. "You know," Felicity observed, "they're big enough that you could do this yourself. But the underside..." She lowered herself underneath Felicia's cleavage, beginning to kiss the shadowed portion below. Mind whirling, Felicia lifted one breast in her hands, ushering the nipple into her own mouth. She sucked herself while Felicity did the same. Seeing it, hearing it, Felicity began to touch herself. Masturbating, fucking, all at once. All that was missing was stealing and teasing Peter. "Some rich guy," Felicity said between kisses, "was dating some rich bitch. Gave her a gift, some family heirloom or whatever... then she broke up with him. Now he wants us to steal it back—" "Yes! Yes!" Felicia was riding Felicity's pelvis, grinding her wetting cunt into it. She groaned in sweetly rising desire, feeling the pressure in her breast grow so high that her other just had to match it. She pulled Felicity away from her left breast, forced her to the supple right, making her eat it. A groping hand maintained the glow in her left tit. Felicia's or Felicity's, she didn't know or care. Felicity panted as she felt Felicia's pussy stroke closer and closer to her sex, undulating softly under her doppelganger. "He gave me the full specs on the security system in her penthouse..." "OH GOD, YES!" Already, Felicia's breast glowed like it was radioactive. Both of them were too sensitive to touch now—she felt like she could come, just from having them mauled. She eased her nipple out of Felicity's mouth, feeling the slight sting of its hardness raking over Felicity's teeth, then the coolness of open air after the warmth of suckling mouth. Felicia eased down Felicity's body, kissing the breasts, sucking them, playing with them as she'd always wished she could. She didn't know how Spider resisted her when this was so fucking good. "She's going to a party tonight..." Felicity continued, moaning, bucking her hips. "Who?" "The rich bitch... while she's gone we break in..." The hot, sensitive nipples of the Hardy under her drove Felicia mad with desire. She sucked and kneaded to her heart's content, more than enough room in that massive cleavage for both hands, for her mouth, kissing over the sweeping contours, tweaking the nipples, nipping, biting—the only thing that would make it any better was if someone had come on Felicity's tits first. Peter... "Steal everything..." Felicity gasped, as if whispering sweet nothings to Felicia. "We give him the heirloom... keep everything else... oh, Felicia, you can make me come that way..." "Can. Won't," Felicia quipped. She was hungry for Felicity; wanted to love herself. It was the ultimate in self-esteem. She tongued her way down Felicity's silken body, dipping her tongue into the navel, dropping lower, lower, hands on Felicity's thighs—so soft, Felicia almost wanted to keep going down those luscious legs, but then she faced that cunt and knew she had to have it. Steal it. White-haired, wet, hot—she knew, secondhand, how it tasted, but it wasn't like she could mouth it like she did her breasts. She could touch it, she could smell it, she could play with her entire body, but she just wasn't quite flexible enough to lick her own cunt. This was virgin territory... so to speak. She sank her mouth on Felicity's womanhood. "YESSSSSSS!" Felicity sang, her mind running a similar track. She'd brought enough women to orgasm with her tongue to know she was good—she just wanted to know how good. And, lavishly rolling her body upward in a subconscious fucking motion, gasping as Felicia's tongue sought out and destroyed all her most sensitive spots—she knew she was damned good. Felicia flicked her tongue in and out of the sensitive entrance to Felicity's cunt, the fine rich nerves flaring. Her mouth rode Felicity's clit. She drank the flowing juices. She was enthralled, entranced. So turned on it was like she herself was being eaten out. Her own body burned, proclaiming it wasn't so, but that didn't matter for the moment. It felt better than Flash Thompson, slipping this double image the tongue. And when she used her finger—when she felt how tight she herself had to be—Felicity bucked faster, twisted, screamed. Reached down and gripped Felicia's head. "Fuck us!" she cried. "Fuck us harder!" Felicity rocked in exquisite pleasure on her impalement, writhed to the expert finger screwing into her clit. Until finally, Felicia had her. There was nothing left to escape the demon tongue, the torturous finger, those eyes that gazed up at Felicity with a lust she had never seen before: her own. Felicity strained against the full, pleasured paralysis of being taken, then surrendered to it—a contest of wills that had never been so close. "Ahhhhh, soooo good, oh, good, GOOD!" she keened, her cunt squeezing lusciously on Felicia's tongue, all the tension blasting away from her in pure, magnificent joy. Arching her back, she howled. When she was too weak to howl, she moaned. When she was too weak to moan, she sighed. When she was too weak to sigh, she fell silent, feeling as if she was suddenly in the depths of a perfect, dreamless sleep—alone save for this twin that rose to fall beside her, smile so sweetly wet, finger so warm and moist when it touched her. "So... the job..." Felicity whimpered. "Are you in?" "I thought I just was," Felicia laughed, sucking her finger off like a popsicle. "Seriously. If you're some... annoying do-gooder me and I'm the evil twin... just tell me?" "Felicity. Relax. Don't be so hard on yourself." Felicia cuddled up to her; sleeping alone had never felt so good. "To borrow one of your lines... I'm coming." *** For both of them, cuddling was nice, but it had its limit. As soon as the torpor of orgasm had worn off, a rush of endorphins flooded in like they were filling a vacuum. Time to move on, move forward. Felicia reached for Felicity to start round 2, but Felicity was getting out of bed. Felicia watched as she went to a chair in the corner. Now that she was on the other side, she understood why people stared. Her boobs really were huge. "Leaving so soon?" Felicia pouted. "I've spent enough time here already. The mark isn't the party til dawn type. We should hurry." "Mmmm. And once we've tossed her apartment, maybe we can have a little fun there? Especially if she has a Jacuzzi?" Felicity grinned at her. "I think you're going to fit in around here just fine..." She took a pile of some dark, folded material—clothing Felicia couldn't distinguish—and threw it on the ground, then stepped on top of it. Felicia was surprised for a moment; her clothes might get the odd protein shake spill, but she certainly didn't mistreat them if she could help it. Far too fashionable for that. Then she saw the black silk cloister at Felicity's bare feet, nuzzling against her heels, then sliding up her calves. "Oooh!" Felicity shivered. "Tickles—tickles everywhere..." A word sprung into Felicia's mind as if propelled by a gun: symbiote. She watched, partly awestruck, partly horrified, partly thrilled as the symbiote—not quite blanket, not quite liquid—fell up Felicity's long legs like wet shadow, like the darkness in fabric when it took on water. From the way Felicity swayed on her heels, stretching herself to tautness and back again into basking relaxation, it felt good—as supple and inviting as the blackness looked, moistening her skin. The same way pill bottles looked like they had candy in them. It was massaging her, warm lotion applying itself to her legs—over her hips—no, it saved those for later, leaving her pussy teasingly, mockingly bare as it climbed her ribs, creeping inch by inch to her ample breasts. Felicity ran her hands over her body, heedlessly slicking them through the black ivy growing over her. When her hands came back up, they trailed brackish residue over her ivory nudity, over her tits. Felicia watched, heating, as the insubstantial blackness seemed to vibrate on her areolas, dripping back toward its fuller mass, hanging from her nipples as the greater reserve came to join them. It shot up over the curve of her cleavage in stringing feelers, not able to swallow the huge mounds in one go, instead biting into them. Felicity moaned—not just biting her lip or whimpering now—as the symbiote pulled itself along those feelers, its weight yanking her breasts down, making them jiggle as pseudopods of the ooze touched to her teats like feeling hands, groping fingers, alien tentacles. Felicity moaned again. She was being groped, massaged, sucked, her nipples standing out at attention, and Felicia knew exactly how sensitive they were. Felicity let out a harsh exhale as the symbiote finally surmounted her breasts, its spread—moist and warm—gently cresting the upper slopes of her cleavage. Like body paint, like latex, her breasts seemed totally naked, just coated in a thin layer of symbiote, the hard nipples obvious beneath it. Now the symbiote moved faster—done with foreplay. It raced up Felicity's shoulder, up her neck, stopping its lunges at her throat like it was a hand throttling her. Unconsciously, Felicia raised her hands to her mouth. She almost wanted to run, but she couldn't budge. The oppressive heat between her thighs rooted her to the spot. "Mmmmm..." Felicity said, relaxing into the... caress? Ownership? Worship? She ran a hand over her perfect face, as if savoring the warmth of her bare flesh one last time, then moved it down over her sweetly smooth breasts. "Lover..." She cupped her breasts, the symbiote automatically adhering to her hands, letting itself be rubbed and spread and smoothed back down her body. Felicity giggled as she did it—Felicia wondered which of them was feeling that. She pushed the symbiote to her pussy and massaged deeply, not penetrating herself, but rubbing the symbiote decisively into her labia. Almost unnoticed, the symbiote was also spreading from her throat, its fingertips tingling over her jawline, gently fondling her bitten lower lip. "Yes," Felicity moaned with the softest, the most gentle of sighs. "Yes... yes..." She arched her back, showing off the symbiote that was dripping off her, so thoroughly did it coat her. The symbiote covered her face like a blush; her moan shot up in volume, a scream. "YES!" And the symbiote plunged down her open mouth, gagging her for a moment—then taking on the familiar rhythm of thrust, of acceptance, of gulp and swallow. It was facefucking her, and Felicity violently convulsed as she gave in, then stopped, stock-still. The symbiote that had covered her body in pitch blackness, like a photo negative of the girl from Goldfinger, now relaxed. The tar-darkness relaxed, thinning out, lightening, showing the contours of Felicity's body, the definition of her muscles. It wound in on itself like Spider-Man's webs, tightening around Felicity with delicious pleasure—she sighed, as if lost in afterglow. The symbiote was no longer liquid, but tightly wound ribbons that bound her body all over. In the center of her chest was the familiar spider of Peter, of Venom, but it was bare flesh uncovered by the missing coils, a cut-out in the suit, legs tracing over her body, showing the sides of her breasts and the slopes of her shoulders, going down so long as her firm thighs, showing off slices of flesh encased inside this bondage. Felicia was agape. Alive, the symbiote suit was still straining, tightening, caressing her body. It was like a living gimp suit, continuously dominating Felicity, or continuously pleasuring her—dom or sub? With a symbiote, there was no way to tell. "Sorry," Felicity said, sounding no more sorry than Felicia would be. "Had to slip into something... comfortable." "The symbiote—you can control it?" Some of the alien dripped over Felicity's face, forming a mask much like Felicia's domino—only with the way it ran down her cheekbones, it reminded Felicia a bit more of getting a facial. When Peter was on the outs with Mary Jane and had a big backlog... "We have a mutually beneficial relationship. We're friends." Felicity smiled wickedly. "Friends with benefits." "But... how?" "Ever caught something from a boy? Well, once he got back from Battleworld, Spider gave me the ultimate clap." Felicity looked away, lost in memory. "He ate me out so good, though... that tongue..." The symbiote rippled over Felicity's crotch. Felicia decided they should get on with it before she was too tempted. If she wanted her dating life to be that weird, she'd start going through the X-Men. "So, who's the mark?" "Some pop star. Her name's Darla Deering." *** They went in through the ventilation shaft, Felicia crawling behind Felicity. She could see that another of the missing ribbons in Felicity's symbiote suit was across either cheek of her ass, revealing a pair of slender half-moons in bare skin. Felicia reminded herself to try that out later. She'd always loved anal. It stood to reason Felicity would too. Maybe they could go ass to ass; turn Requiem For A Dream into a porno... They slipped into the apartment, able to weld through the cover in half the time. Felicia bypassed the biometric security while Felicity spoofed the cameras, then Felicity took down every painting in the place to find the safe while Felicia bagged everything that looked expensive. The painting was behind an original Johann Georg Melchior Schmidtner. Felicity picked the lock. Felicia admired her as she did it. "I could've danced all nightttttt," someone sang, vocals impeccable despite a slur as they barged through the front door, Felicia and Felicity spinning, Felicia hefting the loot bag as a weapon before seeing who it was. Darla Deering, pop star, the same as in Felicia's universe. The cute, slightly elfin face of a Zooey Deschanel or Lizzy Caplan, the body curvaceous as a pin-up model's, with perky, out-thrust double-D breasts that tended to make an appearance on album covers and in photo shoots. She was a sight to see, her coat hanging off her like a cape, underneath it her dress chocolate-covered, matching her sparkling eyes. It was short and thin, little more than lingerie, with straps of fabric criss-crossing over it to marginally hide her body before continuing over her arms, covering them like opera gloves. The straps crossed between and under her breasts, holding them up in the absence of a bra—which was painfully obvious. They also cinched around her waist, stopping there so that her hem hung unencumbered to mid-thigh. It would've been a fool-proof system, only some of the straps were broken and the one belted around her had some slack, allowing her dress to slip around so that when she walked, it shot up her thighs and showed that her panties were with her bra: not on her. Felicitations Ch. 02 And she either had naturally pink hair or she dyed her pussy too. "Oh!" Darla stopped suddenly, seeing the pair of them in the process of robbing her blind. She laughed tipsily, kicking off her high heels. "Are you, uh, robbing me?" "Uh-huh," Felicity said, her symbiote rippling over her. "Are you gonna ravish me too?" Darla asked hopefully. Taking a cue from Felicity, Felicia unzipped her catsuit a ways, letting her breasts bound forward to press at the edges of the opening. Unzipped to the waist, Darla could see the inner slopes of Felicia's cleavage, the pale undersides—almost, but not quite, the nipples. "If you want." Darla laughed and took off her sunglasses, which had been on crooked to begin with. "That'd be awesome. And the least you can do after taking all my stuff. Lately, I've just had time to have lesbian sex with my BFF MJ. It's great—going shopping together, doing Vogue spreads, writing songs for her movies, double-teaming black guys... but Red, see, she isn't part of a set..." "Felicia," Felicity said, smiling at her friend as she walked toward Darla. "Let's help our friend out of her wet clothes." "Wha?" Darla asked. "My clothes aren't wet..." "They're going to be soon enough," Felicia said. "Since you're not wearing panties..." "Oh whoa!" Felicia wiggled out of her catsuit, while Felicity simply withdrew the symbiote to her arms and legs, giving her the appearance of wearing opera gloves and sheer black stockings. They went toward Darla, but she backed up, shaking her head firmly. "I can do it!" she said with a drunk's stubborn dignity, twisting around and dropping her arms so her coat slid off. She laughed again, stepping and tripping over it, but staying upright. The two Black Cats licked their lips as they watched her undress, her body as firm and lush underneath as it had always been teased to be. "We can all do it..." "Nice tits," Felicity said, helping Darla sit down on a chaise lounge. Felicia sat down on the other side of her. "I think as good as ours, 'sis." "My twins are as good as the twins's!" Darla laughed, looking over them, their nude bodies so much like her own, sensual, sinful. She felt a surge of anticipation sweep through her, imagining the lips of Felicia's pussy pressed tightly against her own—top or bottom. Or both. There were two of them, after all. She really liked that there were two of them. "Felicia, you're my guest. Why don't you go first?" Felicity offered, her breasts revealing her excitement—flesh flushed, nipples swollen. "I think I'll just watch for a while." "I think I'll give you something to watch," Felicia said, taking Darla's pink hair and using it to guide her down to her pussy. She lifted a long, statuesque leg, resting it on Felicity's shoulder to part her thighs, revealing her sex, wide open, her pelvis wiggling with the pleasure she anticipated so hard she could actually feel some of it. "I've never seen a white pussy before," Darla gaped as her face drew near to it, feeling its warmth, smelling its flavor. Her tongue crossed her lips reflexively, catching a taste of it. All of a sudden, she sobered. She needed this. She needed this desperately. She touched her lips to Felicia's labia like they were meant to go together. "Ah!" Felicia keened lowly, thrusting herself up to the offered kiss. "That's it—use your tongue—lick my clit—and suck!" She was practically vibrating as she merged her hot cunt with Darla's mouth. Darla gave it all she had, darting her tongue in and out on the pussy that was virtually suffocating her, it was so close. She wanted to memorize the taste so she'd know if Felicity's taste was the same. She certainly hoped it would be. Felicia tasted so good... "Use your fingers," Felicity suggested, pushing down on Darla's face so she was pressed harder to Felicia's cunt. Darla did, resting her hands on the naked flesh that surrounded her face, caressing Felicia's sides, her thighs, letting her hands linger on the clenching ass. Felicity pressed herself to Darla's back, snaking her hands underneath her, to the firm yet soft belly, then upward, to Darla's tender breasts. She grasped them, squeezing softly, enjoying her own anticipation almost as much as she was the foreplay. Her hands brushed over Darla's cunt. Darla moaned, the honeyed scent of Felicia's pussy filling her nostrils. She sucked hard, wanting more, wanting the taste to be as strong as the smell. She moved a hand from Felicia's ass, putting it instead on her groin, a finger running in and out, keeping pace with her tongue. "Yessss," Felicia moaned. "Eat me, finger me..." She bucked and twisted, throwing her head against the arm of the chaise lounge, squirming to open her pussy wider for more of Darla's tongue. Even as Darla was caressing and fondling Felicia, Felicity was lightly spreading the tender lips of her pussy, another slender finger sinking shallowly into the bright pink of her open snatch. Darla stirred, gasping hard, trying to suck in air but there was only Felicia's strong scent. She tried to concentrate on licking and sucking Felicia, using her fingers and tongue, but now Felicity's finger was withdrawing, slowly wiggling its way out of Darla's searing cunt. Felicity laughed gleefully, tracing the soft skin of Darla's most private places, from the very bottom of Darla's labia, over the tightly tensed perineum, between the rolling hills of her buttocks, to the puckered gateway between them. She gently trailed her fingertips over the opening, circling it before pushing abruptly inside, sliding in as deep as she could. Darla moaned and came a little, feeling herself suddenly slick, suddenly wet, deep inside where only she could feel. Then Felicia grabbed the back of her head and pulled her even tighter to her cunt, making Darla work her mouth harder, lapping her tongue around and inside, pump with her fingers just as fingers were being pumped into her ass. They were all heaving heavily, feeling their orgasms and that of others coming, wondering which of them would explode first. "Mmm, this kitten knows what to do with her cream!" Felicia crooned. "You have got one wonderful fucking tongue!" She closed her eyes and rushed towards her peak, enjoying being the final link in this daisy chain. Relaxing while her two lovers literally went and fucked themselves. Felicity reamed her fingers in and out of Darla's asshole, rubbing her clit with her other hand. She wished Felicia could see how Darla's hips churned rhythmically, fucking her fingers, trying to pump her way to orgasm. And the way Felicia's soft flesh yielded to Darla's hands... it was quite a sight. Darla trembled, burying her face as deeply as possible into Felicia's cunt, as if trying to seek shelter in it from the pleasures she was feeling. She couldn't believe she was going to come so fast—or so hard. She thrust her tongue hotly into the gaping pussy, wanting to taste Felicia's orgasm directly from the source, but first the explosive suddenness of a climax rocked her entire body, breasts jiggling, hips rutting against pleasure that was mostly only in her inflamed senses. Felicity giggled, watching her fuck the air like there was a penis there to have gotten her off. "Oh, no, baby—it was me." Felicia was not idle. Holding Darla roughly by the hair, she ground her cunt into Darla's face until the waves of her orgasm had risen high enough to drown her. Then she murmured under her panting breath, all the dirty things she wanted to say but that might be to too kinky for her little bitch, her little whore. She was sure most people didn't know how affectionately she meant those words. Now Felicity pulled Darla away from Felicia and down to her own needing cunt. "My turn," Felicity announced, locking her fingers in that famously pink hair, lifting her sex to burning lips. Without a word, Darla kissed and licked and sucked, barely noticing that Felicia was there too, sucking her from behind. There were far more important things. Like Felicity Hardy coming in her mouth. Then Darla rose, her mouth messily lipsticked with the cream of both girls, strands of stray, pink hair clinging to the corners of her mouth. Her face was red and her breathing only slowly returned to normal. From the crown of her head to her curling toes, she felt like she was one big subwoofer, thudding and thumping. It was a good thing she was still horny, because there was no way she could've laid still just then. "Just so you know," she said in her slowly thoughtful voice, "it's really uncool that you're robbing me. If I had a stun baton or something—" "You'd what?" Felicia asked. "Let us fuck your ass with it?" Darla thought about it. "Can you find me a baton?" After what seemed like hours, the Hardy girls had had enough of passing Darla between them, eating her and being eaten, fingering her and being fingered, squirting on her and squirting on her some more. She'd had enough too; passed out, only awake enough to moan for the last round, smiling happily as Felicity used her face to essentially masturbate. Then they released her, covered in their juices, licked clean of her own, her glossy wet face lost in a satiated smile. "We should steal from her again," Felicia panted. "We already got her anal virginity," Felicity replied. "What more do you want?"