In Every World in Every Story

The party was dying down as the night wore on, the buzz of being close to a superstar wearing thin, and now people clustered into groups according to their own interests, only mingling for food and drink, the music taking over. Someone had had the poor idea of filling the CD player with Spider-Man songs, so they were all suffering through his cartoon's theme song, no one annoyed enough to take the initiative of swapping playlists.

Mary Jane decided not to wait for the bad DJing to pass. She went to the bathroom, just thankful there wasn't a line, dragging a bottle of champagne behind her. A little bit of mid-gaming while she checked her phone, maybe fix her hair, make-up, then she'd make an entrance all over again. Take two at livening up the party.

However, she was shocked to see Gwen sitting on the toilet, head back, looking like she'd just found out she had cancer or something.

"Hey? Gwendolyn? You okay?"

Gwen replied hoarsely. "Peter masturbated. Came into a jar or something. He

masturbated."

Damn, she really is a prude.

"I'm, uh, sure he didn't mean it?"

Gwen sniffled.

"Care for some red?" MJ asked, holding out the bottle to Gwen. "Where'd I put the glasses...?"

Gwen took the bottle from her and turned it upside-down, her mouth latched to the bottleneck. Mary Jane watched, in growing disbelief, as the wine level lowered, and lowered, and lowered... she'd missed out, not inviting Gwen to any of her parties. The woman could keg-stand with the best of them.

Finished, Gwen tossed the bottle into the bathtub. Then let out a belch. MJ found herself suddenly liking the blonde. Anyone who could make a bottle of wine disappear that fast was either a magician or her friend.

"Okay, I think maybe you've had one too many."

One bottle too many, that is.

"How about we get you to bed and out of those uncomfortable shoes?"

"Okay," Gwen agreed mildly, offering her hands for Mary Jane to pull her to her feet.

With her hands on Gwen's shoulders now, Mary Jane guided her toward the stairs.

That dress she was in looked just as good from the back, MJ was happy to note.

***

"Lily, that's a, uh, nice dress you're wearing," Peter said with forced calm, leading Lily away from the bathroom as quickly as he could. "Very cute."

"Well, I wanted to wear something special for your big day. Almost a birthday present in itself, isn't it? But yeah, Harry's gift is from both of us. The cleavage doesn't count."

Peter's smile froze. She seemed so calm, so much like herself, that he almost couldn't believe what he'd done with her on the Sentinel. Maybe it was another dream, a hallucination... he didn't think he was that crazy. It wasn't like he believed he was the avatar of some Spider-God or anything like that.

"Say, where's Harry? It's not a party without Harry!"

"It's not much of a party with him, either," Lily sniffed. "And don't worry. I know it was just a test."

"A test?" Peter asked, as Lily flounced off.

"Taking away my costume," she answered, and people were coming, party-goers mingling like guards circulating through Fort Knox. If one of them overheard...

Peter hurried to catch up, worried that she would talk loud enough for someone else to hear her. If he stayed close enough, hopefully she would keep her voice down.

The guests passed by, Peter sneaking a look to make sure they'd left.

"Don't worry, I've got some ideas for my own costume," Lily said. "Seeing how tight yours is, I think mine should have some sex appeal—"

Fuck, she was crazy. She might as well have been going out with

Norman

Osborn as Harry, she was so crazy. Peter needed to think of something to dissuade her, get her away from him.

"Really, I think it was just adrenaline," Peter said. "You, putting on the costume for the first time..."

"You, seeing me in the costume for the first time..."

Peter was looking around worriedly as he trailed Lily into a more secluded part of the compound. On the one hand, this was what he'd wanted—for no one to be able to eavesdrop on them. On the other hand, he didn't think being alone with Lily would be good for his marriage.

"I just know you really care about Harry," Peter said. "Just like I care about Gwen."

"Of course. This thing we have is just physical."

"Exactly."

"That's what makes it so much fun."

Peter's teeth clamped together. "Maybe we shouldn't be seen together," he suggested, "If we're going to be working together as the Green Goblin and Spider-Man..."

"Good point," Lily said. "But wait... if Spider-Man and the Green Goblin are enemies, then shouldn't

we

be friends? To throw people off the scent?"

"I don't think so..."

"Oh. I get it. You don't want your wife to find out. About the Green Goblin, I mean."

"Yes," Peter said. "That's it exactly."

"So from now on, we should only meet in private."

"Yes. I agree."

"Alright. You go around, mingle some, I'll go into the hall closet. You sneak away as soon as you can and come see me. We can talk all about how the Green Goblin and Spider-Man should team-up." She winked at him. "And maybe get some more training done while we're at it."

"I can't," Peter said quickly. "You really wore me out, I can't get it up at all—"

"That's okay," Lily said without missing a beat. "You can just eat me out. You were really good at that..."

Another little vanguard of well-wishers was approaching, a guy with an unbuttoned jacket wanting to show off his Spider-Man shirt underneath. Peter couldn't keep talking about this in public.

"So you'll go in the closet and wait for me?" Peter asked.

"Yeah. No panties. Just like before."

Peter paused a moment. "You'd better get going."

Lily left, with Peter planning anything but to go have a quickie in the closet.

***

Scott saw the blood on Emma's lips from biting herself, the buzzing dildo Karla was pistoning between her plump thighs. He pulled Karla off Emma roughly, throwing her into the pool.

"You crazy bitch," he hissed in anger, but his cock was surging powerfully beneath his fly, summoned by the panting nakedness of both women. He gestured to the strap-on with contempt. "Take that thing off!"

Karla quickly obeyed.

Emma wrapped her arms around Scott's legs, hiding her pussy against his body. "The whole time, I was thinking of you," Emma said. "Only you..."

But it hadn't really hit her that it was her husband who'd interrupted until she felt herself being shoved down to the floor, her ankles gripped by powerful hands. She looked up through the narrow slits of her hazy eyes and saw Scott as she'd never seen him before, his handsome face regarding her cruelly from between her widespread thighs, an animal lust written into every line of his face. The look he gave her froze Emma's quivering body, put her wandering mind to stillness.

She lay immobile, trapped by him. A belated sense of shame, of guilt welled up in her as she stared defenseless up at Scott's righteous outrage. Harshly, he levered her unresisting legs up and far back, over her head, until the toes of her feet pressed into the floor on either side of her shoulders. Her naked body was contorted, bent back almost double, and the pain of her stretched muscles was shockingly torturous.

This is my punishment—

she thought, loud enough for anyone to hear.

Yes. Yes. It's only right. Punish me, Scott...

He was poised over her, his hands holding her ankles down, his angry cock aimed dead-center at her helpless pussy.

"Give it to her, Scott!" Emma heard Karla say. "Teach her a lesson!"

"How do you want to be punished, Emma? More fucking? From the looks of you, you're already the life of the party, and I didn't even see all of it. Tell me what I missed, lover? Tell me what you were doing

behind my back..."

"How about she shows you?" Karla asked, climbing out of the pool. The light glittering on her dripping figure, water drops like diamonds, highlighting every curve of her body, every inch of naked flesh.

Both husband and wife gazed hungrily at her body, Emma at the smile of her slit as Karla stood over her face, Scott at the wink of her asshole as Karla knelt down.

Emma's throat moved with subtle stirrings,

gulps,

and Scott looked further down, seeing her nakedly willing body urging him on, undulating with obscenely pleaded motions, every second watching a feathery touch upon her burning hot skin. She didn't seem like his wife anymore, but like a beautiful stranger, the repository and sum total of all his secret lusts. The woman who could satisfy him as no one else had, no one else ever could.

Except maybe Karla.

Pressing Emma's legs further down, he brought his cock to her sex and forced himself inside.

Never before had she felt so hot, so tight, so wet.

***

"I can do it!" Gwen insisted suddenly, pulling herself free of MJ once they'd surmounted the stairs. Apparently, being escorted through the door to her bedroom was too much for her ego to bear. Wobbling unsteadily, her whole body vibrating with nervous tension, Gwen forced herself to the door, silently groped down to the knob, then hauled it open and threw herself inside.

Mary Jane followed at a discrete distance, closing the door behind them, watching as Gwen stumbled to the bed and threw herself down onto the covers.

Gwen was trying to put her thoughts in order, not helped at all by how she worried over Peter. She could just picture him, jerking on that cock she had so desperately desired, wasting it on his own hand instead of her... worst of all, the thought itself was arousing.

Mary Jane sat down beside her on the bed, the mattress stirring gently with her added weight. Gwen moaned even at that un-seismic shift. Her head was swimming; she felt dizzy even lying down. She hadn't drunk, but she felt as though she was loaded, sloshed, hammered. She pondered sending MJ out to get her some hair of the dog that bit her, wondering if that would work when she was drunk on her own loneliness, not on alcohol.

"Bad day?" Mary Jane asked, reaching out to run her middle finger over the top of Gwen's spine, the back of her neck, as if it were the rim of a wineglass.

"Bad year," Gwen muttered in reply, barely able to turn her head so she wasn't muffled by the bedspread.

"You threw a great party, though," Mary Jane said cheerily. "Everyone's having a good time, enjoying themselves. I think you've gotten a few people to hook up. Come next year, we could be celebrating Peter's birthday along with some poor slobs' anniversary."

Gwen made a keening noise as she sniffled. "You know what Peter and I did for our anniversary? He took me to dinner, and dancing..."

"Yeah, I remember, it was in all the papers. Very storybook."

"He wouldn't screw me, though. He said I didn't have to. But I wanted to, MJ! I just wanted to... are you fucking him, MJ?"

"What?" Mary Jane gasped. "No, no."

"Because you've always been so close. And those love scenes... there are these people on Tumblr, they make gifs, they splice in porno stuff, it's really well done..."

"Gwen, it's Tumblr. They think Peter's fucking Harry. They think Peter's fucking

Norman."

Mary Jane paused, resuming her massage of Gwen, now with both hands. "Does porno me have big tits?"

"Yeah," Gwen moaned in dismay.

"Like, crazy big tits?"

"No, just big. Like, Megan Fox big. D-cups. I don't know..."

"Okay. But no one... splices you and Peter into porn movies?"

Gwen raised a dismissive hand as if to dispel some curse over her head. "Oh, there're posts about us. Aesthetic posts. There's like, those valentine's candy hearts that taste like flavored chalk and... and roses, and quotes from John Green,

John Green...

it's all very twelve year old girl. They must be able to sense it, smell it on me. How chaste we are, how pure and innocent our love is..." Gwen almost choked on the bitter irony spewing from her own mouth. She did cough a few times. Mary Jane patted her back.

"We need to get your shoes off," she said. "And so do I, if we're going to commiserate about your love life. We can make it a girls' night in. Order room service and watch a Katy Perry concert movie. Does this place have room service?"

Gwen sniffled pathetically. "Robots... wait, what'll Peter do if he comes up here and we're in bed together?"

Mary Jane was slipping off her shoes. "Well, that would make for a good birthday present."

Her jibe didn't get so much as a flicker from Gwen. "He probably wouldn't even notice. He probably won't even come up here. We have a lot of bedrooms; he sleeps in other ones a lot. Says he doesn't want to bother me with his snoring..."

Bare toes wiggling in the carpet, Mary Jane bent over Gwen to unstrap her sandals. "And I'll take those... I really might take those, they're nice. Pretend you don't remember this conversation if these go missing."

Gwen bit her lower lip. "I wish he would fuck you. You two would be so happy together..."

"Gwen, stop," Mary Jane told her, settling down beside the blonde.

"No, it's true! Maybe he wants to be a family man, or thinks he should be, but he has a wild side. And I can be there when he wants to lie around and be lazy, but I can't go with him when he's... Spider-Man. I can't keep up. You can. You'd take it in stride. Just another challenge for the indomitable Mary Jane Watson."

"I am not indomitable. I tried it once and I was dommed very hard..."

"See? That's what he needs. Someone who can... inspire him."

"You inspire him just fine, Gwen. All those romance scenes, those kisses, he's thinking of you..." Mary Jane's voice faltered as she ended the sentence, looking away, eyes crossing the door, like it was an escape route, like Peter might come through it despite Gwen's protestations. "Listen to me," Mary Jane continued, rallying. "Whatever Peter's going through—he's Peter, he goes through stuff—there is no way he doesn't love you. You could not be more beautiful, more lovely, more sexy than you are now. You..."

Mary Jane rushed in, pressing her lips to Gwen's mouth. Gwen squirmed at first, astonished with what was happening to her, but then it didn't matter. What mattered was that she was being touched, being kissed, treated with passion and lust and a sheer want for her that had been direly, direly missing from her life. She yielded almost immediately, her hands resting on Mary Jane's hips, and she allowed the kiss to deepen and allowed herself to moan and if she'd had any choice in the matter, she would have allowed the flaring sensation in her core as well, the sudden bone-deep

need

that she'd thought she could only have for Peter.

Then Gwen pulled away, before Mary Jane could make the kiss mean something. She pulled away then. Her skin was so hot that the cold of her wedding ring burned. So did her nipples. "I... I should go..." she said, wiggling for the edge of the bed.

"But it's your bed?" Mary Jane protested.

Then Gwen rolled right off the side.

"Gwen?" Mary Jane asked.

A long snore answered her.

Shrugging internally, Mary Jane climbed off the bed and, taking Gwen's sandals, padded to the door.

Looked like she would have to make her own fun.

***

Karla Sofen was lost in thought, her Dictaphone in her hand. Generally, she would be going over the day's sessions, seeing if there was any more she could gleam from her patient interactions while they were still fresh in her mind. This evening, she was remembering how she had rubbed Peter Parker's cock on her face, the giveaway twitching it had made, and then the delicious, gooey load he had sprayed into her mouth. But not just her mouth.

She wondered if she could get Scott to come all over her too. Judging by the way Emma was attached to his cock, she doubted it.

Karla clicked the Dictaphone into record, then turned it back off again. She didn't want to think about... couldn't think about... not now, not when it was... when she was...

Karla reached down between her legs. She was aroused. She was oh so very aroused, and it wasn't just the taboo of fucking a patient, she'd done that plenty and it

never

got her off like this. Her head rocked, long hair swirling across her face. She could smell his cum on her strands, where his spray had gone errant, and it helped. A little. But her orgasm was all her own doing, her fingers, her memories, setting her chair on fire with the heat of her quivering ass. And it wasn't nearly as good as when Peter had been inside her.

Her phone rang. Karla reached for it, then stopped, staring at the glossy cream that covered her fingers. As she'd done before, as she'd do again, she sucked her fingers dry. The taste of her orgasmic juices was delicious. She almost let the call go to voice-mail, she was so enthralled in drinking herself down. She'd kissed her cream from Peter's mouth, she'd suck his cock greedily after it had spent several minutes reaming her, she knew how her juices tasted. But they always tasted just a little bit better than she thought.

Smacking her lips and using her other hand, Karla picked up the phone. "Dr. Sofen's office, Karla Sofen speaking. How can I help you?"

"It's me," Peter said, then, without further preamble, "I'm cancelling our next session."

"I see. May I ask why?"

"Let's see... because I cheated on my wife with you? Because the minute I left your office, I stuck my dick in crazy? Because now my relationship with Gwen is going down the tubes,

which is what I wanted you to fix,

but I can't relate to her at all now!"

"You wanted my help to figure out your dreams," Karla pointed out carefully. "And your dreams contained clues to what you wanted from life. If you've been acting differently since you've seen me, it's because I put you in better touch with your wants and desires. Not because I prescribed you a medication or hypnotized you with a gold watch..."

"How can I know that? I've never acted this way before I met you, never!"

"Have you wanted to?"

She could

feel

Peter ignore her. "I don't want you to call her again, and I want you to look at your confidentiality agreement, because if one word of this leaks to the press—"

Karla ignored him right back. "I would like you to bring Gwen in for couples counselling. I think it would be good for the two of you. Or should I say, the three of us?"

"Stay away from me, and stay away from my family!" Peter demanded, just before he hung up.

Karla casually dropped her phone to the desk. Well now. It seemed Peter's treatment wasn't working. She'd have to resort to more extreme methods.

Pondering them did almost as much to get Karla off as Scott's tongue in her snatch.

***

Lily was sweating inside the closet. She'd waited a long time for Peter, and many would've thought that the wait would've cooled her down, but as she stood there and waited, she only got hotter and hotter. She kept thinking of how Peter had fucked her on the shoulder of that giant Sentinel, her concentration calling up new and exciting details the more she thought of it. They'd fucked right under the thing's nose, right on top of mutant oppression! How could they lose when the House of M couldn't even stop them from fucking?

Abruptly, the door opened.

Finally,

Lily thought, and started to turn around, but a rough hand gripped her shoulder and shoved her forward, jostling her head, keeping her firmly pointed into the closet. She heard footsteps as Peter entered the closet with her, the charging of the atmosphere as he pressed in with her, then the door swinging shut, trapping them inside.

Soft lips daringly caressed the back of Lily's neck, a tongue lapping at the downy hairs covering the nodules of her spine, then the devious tip licked all the way to the base of her hairline. Lily cooed and tried to turn around again, to combat that infernal tongue with her own, but the hands gripped her again, her shoulders, holding her in place facing the wall. In the dark, she wouldn't be able to see Peter anyway. But she wanted to. She wanted that look in his eyes as he fucked her.