Catsuit

"Love me there, too," Felicia teased, feeling him fuck her leg harder, feeling her tiny hole open and his tongue push the covering vinyl inside her opening. The tongue that was transmitting through it flickered and stabbed, arousing shallow but undeniable sensations in her most sensitive place. She jerked at every motion of his tongue, like he was spanking her with a hairbrush instead of licking her through vinyl. Her asshole was growing hot and her fingers were almost maniacal in masturbating her.

"Oh!" Felicia panted suddenly. He'd covered her asshole with his mouth and was now sucking, the vinyl against her opening feeling like it was on fire. Her body shook and quivered in excitement, responding to his fiendish mouth, and she pushed her ass into the air, against his face like an offering.

They'd formed a sort of tent. Peter kneeling behind her, Felicia with her ass in the air and her face against the floor; yin and yang. Then, Felicia realized she could reach back, between her legs, to him. She could draw the waist of his costume down over his so-hard prick. She could fit it in her hand and rub it, just like his tongue was rubbing her.

"Eat my asshole," she told him, voice choked, "while I fuck your cock."

He obeyed, tongue worming into her ass, carrying the vinyl with it. She felt the pulsation beating a tattoo through his hard cock, the river of precum flowing from his cockhead that greased her gloved hand. When she tightened her fist, she could feel his racing pulse chiseling at her palm. She loved it. His size, his hardness, the so-obvious eagerness he showed to get inside her. It was all she could do to get her fist around such a maddened erection, and all his tongue could do to stimulate her asshole's crushing tautness. She thought her own suit had gone further up her ass than any set of anal beads ever had.

"Oh fuck!" Felicia moaned in private ecstasy. His tongue had felt so good that she'd barely noticed its pleasure transitioning into a full orgasm, but she knew it by the rush of warm juices flowing down her inverted belly, her pussy tightening against his pistoning fingers, her breasts suddenly climbing as she hollered in broadening satisfaction. She was coming and coming and coming and she needed to come, needed more, needed him.

"Fuck my ass!" she ordered, pulling his cock to her, and Peter rushed atop her, mounting her like an animal, fingers ripping at her catsuit as he tried to force a handhold, to get it open, even as she held herself obligingly still and he thrust helplessly against her bubble butt, the vinyl so sleek and warm and even wet with his own saliva. He was dry-humping her, his aching cock harder than ever inside the crack of her ass, Felicia moaning even deeper as she felt it so close but so far away.

"This is," she panted, "as close as you can get—to my perfect—fucking—ass!"

"Now, Felicia!" Peter grunted. "Right now!"

His cock swelled larger than it ever had before, a monstrous weapon that seemed to dwarf Felicia's thick ass before it shot, his cum flying to the back of Felicia's neck. Peter grabbed hold of its base, squeezed, seemed to channel the explosion he felt into load after load blasting from his cock. He fired as far as Felicia's white hair, and coated the sable-black material over her back and ass with his seed.

Felicia felt the heat of his spurting right through the vinyl, heard his groans as he exorcised himself of all the cum that had gone unused by one Gwen Stacy. She thought she was coming again, knowing this was all for her. The cum that covered her ass flowed down between the abundant cheeks, into the crevice between her legs. Felicia smiled dazedly as she felt the heat of his seed against her pussy, like it was meant to go there, like it wanted to.

Peter came one last time, this final shot landing in a puddle underneath them. Then he fell forward atop Felicia. There was an audible splatter as he landed on a dozen wads of his own seed, but he couldn't care. He just panted, staying against Felicia's magnificent body for warm, wonderful minutes as his spunk cooled and congealed.

Felicia breathed deeply as she reached between her legs, fingered the jism slowly running over her crotch, and brought it to her mouth. The man definitely ate enough vegetables...

Peter suddenly stood, the smell of cum obnoxiously thick in his nostrils. He pulled his mask down, his pants up, and Felicia looked over her shoulder at him once more. Her pose now not displaying her body, but the layer of cum that marked it. The same cum covering the front of Peter's costume like a camouflage pattern.

"Explain that to blondie," Felicia teased.