Peter webbed Felicia, instantly sticking her to the wall by her feet, her throat, and one wrist. She almost opened her mouth to object, but there was something in Peter she hardly recognized that silenced her. A darkness, thick and sensual, that she knew she'd brought out of him by savoring it so often.
By encouraging him to greater and greater dominance, more and more obscenity, both her and Mary Jane wanting these orgies that he had once been too neurotic for. And now they'd created a monster—a satyr that could finally satisfy all their desires, even their most unspoken. Things they were barely willing to admit to, much less enjoy.
"You're going to watch us," he told her. "And you're going to touch yourself. No complaints or I'm webbing your mouth shut. You keep being a pain after that, I'll blindfold you. Then you can just listen to Mary Jane come. And I know you'd rather watch."
Felicia could've moaned—it felt so sensuous to feel his eyes burning hotly into her naked body when she had no choice in the matter, when all she could do was let him
enjoy
her—but she was so afraid of offending him that she kept in even that lustful noise. Knowing that soon, she wouldn't have a choice.
Her mouth gaped open when she saw Mary Jane pull Peter into her arms, crushing her full tits against his chest. Heat started in Felicia: flushing at the base of her neck and sparking down in the pit of her groin.
Peter didn't fuck her and he didn't let MJ fuck herself. Instead he ground himself against her, slowly, evenly, making Mary Jane shudder and groan as his throbbing cock rolled across her womanhood but didn't go in. His arms around her back, fingers drawing playful circles on the creamy skin, while Mary Jane's hands were behind Peter as well, feeling the firm muscles that ran down his body. Both of them luxuriating in each other. Enjoying themselves without urgency because they knew there was no end to the delights of their union.
From where she was trapped, allowed only to watch and treat the lust her voyeurism left her with, Felicia saw Mary Jane's mouth buried in Peter's neck. With a hot open mouth she kissed the scarred skin and hardened muscle that Felicia could recall from memory, her sex yearning for the sensations that MJ was calling up just by relishing Peter so openly. God, Felicia could almost taste what Mary Jane was tasting, feel what she was touching...
Peter held MJ even closer now, one of his hands moving up to rove in that fiery red hair. Mimicking how her tresses touched the delicate sweep in back of her neck and the freckled roll of her shoulders. His fingers ran through the crimson strands like they were the most sensual thing he'd ever touched, like Peter could barely stand to reach through them and touch Mary Jane's bare flesh without being overwhelmed.
This was unbelievable! Felicia's mind reeled in shock and disbelief, watching Mary Jane's breasts flattened against Peter's hard-muscled chest, imagining how it felt to have them heaving with each breath, only to be met by the walls of his pectorals.
MJ's tits were pert and virtually sculpted in their shapeliness, but Felicia's were just as perky and so big they were their own erogenous zones. Scintillating with feelings as they bobbed up and down with her rushed breath. Felicia would've paid any amount of money for someone to just
touch
