The characters in this story are property of Marvel comics. I have used them in honor of the comic series and admiration for the characters. This story is original and is in no way tied to any of the canons of the Marvel Universe (to save myself the grief of working with time lines). This story contains adult material of a sexual nature. If it is illegal for you to view such material, turn back now. This work is copyrighted to the author. Do not post this on any other site or use it for personal gain. It is for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.
*****
The streets of New York were desperately cold, a dark and chilling freeze that put anyone exposed into a state of unease. Bags clutched tight to chests and bodies huddled over as they quickly shuffled to get to where they needed to be so they could warm up as soon as possible. Despite the cold, however, the denizens of New York, specifically those at a local night club, knew how to keep warm. Body heat radiated as it accumulated in the club, hovering above and hugging tight to the huddled masses of dark dancers and ravers littering the dance floor. The concerns of the outside world put on mute as the music was turned to 11. Dark make up and clothes adorn these frenzied club goers, gothic in nature but just as lustful as anyone else. There was one amongst them that could be proudly put on a higher pedestal of desire, though. Felicia Hardy, better known as Black Cat to those of the night life, went by no name tonight, just simply a woman who gazed into the crowd of gothic patrons like cattle, scoping out the best one to suit her needs.
Having recently come in contact with the sinister parasite, the Symbiote, and soon after learning the possibilities of her newfound suit of choice, Cat wanted now to sate her thirst for sex. While the Symbiote feeds off adrenaline, urging its host to attempt many acts of danger to fuel its nourishment, it found that this particular host would be better suited to produce it through a sexual means, and she was more than well equipped to supply it with what it needed. Her generous breasts were hugged together nicely in the dark corset, rising and falling like dough in the oven with each intake and exhale of breath. Waist pulled in and curved outwards again at the hips, exposed nicely from a few inches above the navel down to just above the pelvis region. The only manner of clothes keeping her from being outright indecent, though she guessed few would complain, were a tight pair of black pants, matching the sheen and texture of her corset and fore arm length gloves she wore. Though appearing as to be leather, her attire was made up by that slippery substance that had joined with her in her quest to make herself feel better after Spider-Man's rejection of her.
Soft, plump, and dark lips were seemingly permanently put into a soft smirk, devious and almost cruel as she studied the stock of young, virile, agile, and horny youth that made up the crowd of gyration and wonton sexual chemistry. Hell, she could even make out a few fucks going on in the crowd. A lifted skirt was all one needed to screw his lover. No one would notice in the midst of all the body to body dancing and thumping beats and blares of the death metal instruments, and it would be unlikely if anyone would mind. More obvious "love" making was going on in the various rooms over-looking the dance floor. Breasts and asses pressed against glass as it was fogged by body heat and panting breath. Oh yes, this was the ideal place for her to find a mate.
Elsewhere (yes, it must be mentioned, sorry to pull you away from the free sex), Spider-Man soared above the streets. Sadly he had no dark princess to gyrate on his crotch to keep him warm as he swung from building to building, and the fast swinging against the chilling wind didn't help the bracing cold stinging against him. What he wouldn't give for a fight against Pyro right about now. His attention, however, was rather divided. While the cold certainly was a matter of concern, what troubled him more was the lack of Cat he had been seeing as of late.
It was barely three weeks ago that he had let Cat down, explaining the situation and how he was in love with another and couldn't betray his wife like that, though he didn't say the other woman was his wife. Perhaps if he had she would have understood better, but he can't give details like that out so carelessly. Over the passing days he worried if he had hurt her so that she would not speak to him. He wanted to remain friends, a phrase he heard from too many girlfriends before Mary Jane, so he knew how much it sucked to hear that, but after not running into her for so long he wondered. Granted the majority of their meetings were just delightful romps across the city, giving chase just to pass the time if not to foil her theft of some ancient jewel, artifact, or just straight cash, but they could always part ways knowing that they had fun in the process. If only he hadn't given into his urges and succumb to her seduction none of this complication would have happened.
Despite his worry he knew she'd be alright. If Cat was anything, she was resourceful and could take care of herself. Having given the city enough of a patrol tonight, he decided to head back to his apartment early tonight and see if Mary Jane wasn't too tired from her photo shoot. Ah, to be a nerd and able to go home to a super model after a day of being a super hero. How any situation managed to worry or depress him is a mystery.
Back at the night club (yes, we're finally back), Cat had found her mate for the night. He was a young lad, no more than 25, fresh faced with a chiseled chest and not afraid to show it. She had spotted him dancing in the crowd, switching dance partners as one would push her way to him, each one more aggressive than the last. By the time Cat had decided she would be the one taking him home. It wasn't hard prying the girl before her off of him, the Symbiote gave Cat an inhuman amount of strength to work with and in no time she was dancing with the man, pressing herself wantonly to him, letting him take in her scent as any space between their bodies was snuffed out with hot flesh.
Although the women before the white haired vixen were certainly attractive, she was something out of a romance novel (or well produced porno). Every aspect of her was perfect, and he had plenty of opportunity to study. She moved like mercury against him, teasing him with brushes of her breast against him and then satisfying with a hard grind against his crotch with her tight "leather" clad ass. He moved his auburn bangs from his azure eyes as he watched her, finding himself doing less dancing and more just being a steady object for her to perform on, though if she continued like this he would be finding his legs quite useless and rubbery.
Given by his increased heart rate, noticed whenever she ran herself against his chest in a slow and torturous fashion, and iron hard dick threatening to tear the fabrics of his dark jeans asunder, she knew she had gotten him primed and ready. Again with that devious smirk, as she conversed with the Symbiote in her mind, she turned and held herself tightly to him, she began to whisper her plan into his ear, her plump lips flicking against his earlobe as she spoke.
He felt like a preteen virgin being confronted with a fantasy woman to make him into a man. Palate dry from subtle panting, he nervously licked his lips and nodded in agreement to her. His ringed hand was taken by her gloved one and he was escorted through the sea of people, cutting through them effortlessly as he was lead by a woman possessed. He found himself pushed back into the passenger seat of the appropriately dark sports car she had driven there before he could blink. She had moved so quickly, but he figured he had just been moving slow, not gathering that she moved with such speed and agility that he would have suspected something fishy if he wasn't so turned on.
