When Peter came out of her, he might as well have doused Felicia with a bucket of cold water. She was stunned. Gaping. She stood there on numb feet, unable to believe she'd been ejected from her sexual heaven, until Peter shoved a bag of groceries into her arms.
"I want you to get dinner ready," he told her. "I like my steak rare; Mary Jane will wants hers medium rare. You can make your own however you want, of course. Just make sure you don't take the biggest one for yourself."
"I thought I already did," Felicia mumbled. "Spider, this is—it's unnatural! You can't just
stop
fucking!"
"I'm not," he told her, wrapping an arm around a preening Mary Jane's shoulders. "I'm giving MJ her turn. And as soon as dinner is ready, her turn is over."
"And then it's my turn again?" Felicia asked hopefully. Not like her to require clarification of something so obvious, but she couldn't stand the thought that Peter might go to an Avengers meeting or something. She needed him to finish her off. Not just make her come again, but really
finish
her.
"That depends on how dinner tastes," Mary Jane informed her archly.
Peter steered Mary Jane away before any mutant powers could develop that allowed Felicia to eye-laser MJ's smug face off. "Come on, Red, I'd hate for you to spend any longer in the kitchen. Now that we have a maid, you need to get used to being in the bedroom."
Mary Jane giggled girlishly and stroked Peter's body with her own, pressing against him like a cat, a signal for Peter to pick her up. He did, sweeping her legs out from under her and her soft weight into his unhampered arms. Felicia watched them, thinking of how Peter had carried her, wrapped in his arms, legs locked around his body, dick firmly inside her.
There was something romantic about the way Peter carried MJ, but Felicia told herself it wasn't that he loved her more. It was a different kind of love: something expressed with warmth and softness. He expressed his love for Felicia hard, fast, and rough—the way she liked it.
Mary Jane's words broke Felicia from her reverie. "Felicia, the sheets are dirty! Get in here and change them,
now!"
Felicia gritted her teeth, feeling antagonism throbbing through her. She'd get back at MJ, she knew. When it was her turn, she'd fuck Peter so hard he'd forget the color of the hair Mary Jane had on her head.
Peter and Mary Jane were both naked when Felicia came into the bedroom, carrying clean sheets and pillowcases. She paused, overwhelmed with lust for the two of them, but they were ready for her. They didn't seem to take any notice of her own nude body, only waited patiently for Felicia to do her little chore.
Mary Jane was next to Peter, alternately hiding the full luster of his physique from Felicia's inquisitive gaze and showing off what she had in her hand. Peter's hard cock, getting a fond handjob that MJ practically invited Felicia to gawk at.
"You really are big, Peter," Mary Jane cooed. "It's no wonder you're enough for both of us when you have all that cock—I almost feel selfish, keeping it all to myself."
Then she fell to her knees, guiding Peter's manhood into her waiting lips.
Felicia just had to steal a glance. Peter's erection was most definitely impressive, but she'd gotten him harder. At least, she thought she had. Not when he was seeing Mary Jane, obviously, but it wouldn't be that hard to excite him more than he was now.
Felicia had a few catsuits with zippers that went right down to her cunt—made of latex so tight they practically shrink-wrapped her. She would show Peter the next time she was allowed clothes. As hot as Mary Jane looked naked, there was no way she could compete with a barely-there catsuit. Even lingerie couldn't compare.
Tabling that thought for now, Felicia went to work changing the sheets. It was an easy job, which was good, because Felicia found it impossible to focus with Mary Jane bobbing her head up and down on her husband's lap, gurgling and gulping, her long red hair flowing with her oral sex so frantically that it seemed like there was somehow a windstorm in this cozy little room.
"Goddamn, MJ," Peter sighed. "You want everything I've got, don't you?"
He petted her lovely hair, rocking his hips to take over her throat. It wasn't enough for him. He tangled his fingers in her red tresses, rounding them into fists as she added to his excitement with each plunge down his length. He pulled at her hair, drawing her head back and then pumping into her mouth again, getting Mary Jane to gurgle in lascivious enjoyment at having her face fucked.
"Enjoying the show?" Peter asked, and Felicia was so enrapt in her voyeurism that it took her a moment to realize Peter was talking to her—not giving Mary Jane more smutty arousal with little taunts and goads.
No, he'd decided to involve Felicia in this.
