Ultimate Comics: The Bangers

Sue? So, the webhead had a girlfriend. Lana supposed it took all kinds. Still, right now, he was her boyfriend. And she was gonna take a little souvenir of the experience...

"Sue, oh Jesus, SUE!" The symbiote-induced torpor gave way to sudden, vibrant wakefulness, his eyes blowing wide open but unable to focus. His complete attention, every one of his senses, were focused inward on the monstrous orgasm that overflowed from his balls, flooded his shaft, and finally nuked the mouth of his dream lover, his body arching off its resting place, filling her mouth with cock as much as semen.

Much as the symbiote would merge with its host, his climax fell over her delighted tongue and covered her mouth, her throat, her stomach. Only a small percentage of his ejaculation slipped from her stretched lips, but that was more than enough to spill onto her top and forever stain the fabric in what would be yet another point of contention between mother and daughter for months to come. But the vast majority of what he shot into her mouth made it to the back of her throat, and from there to her stomach, as fast as she could swallow it. And Lana could swallow very, very fast.

For almost a minute straight, Peter pumped his seed down Lana's throat, a derrick that'd struck oil and Lana eagerly mining his reservoir. She clung to the eruption like she was starving, now stroking his cock with her hands as if urging him to produce more cum for her to swallow. Every drop of semen from his slit was ushered into her belly by a swipe of her tongue. The symbiote had been created to heal the body, and just as it would replenish a man's blood after he'd been cut, it'd been eager to restore his semen after the exhausting night with Silver Sable (among others). But once again, the symbiote did its job almost too well. Peter now possessed the equivalent semen of two years' fruitless production. All of which Lana was happy to take off his hands.

The sheer release overwhelmed Peter with pleasure and contentment. He sprawled back to the bed in a daze. His head, barely lifted to begin with, now lolled to the side with the fuzzy image of Lana's fucked face imprinted ephemerally on his memory. He thought of more than felt the tiny flicks of her tongue as she cleaned his cock of the cum that had dribbled down the sides. Then, drained both mentally and physically, he surrendered to the all-encompassing glazing sensation that spread outward from his groin. His last sight—or part of the feckless dream he was having—was seeing Lana lick her fingers clean of all traces of his orgasms. She smiled at him with both her mouth and her eyes, and Peter dropped to the lowest level of consciousness, an animal level, where all he knew was the comfortable strain of a day's hard work, the contented quiver of a full belly, and the blissful heat of empty loins.

Lana wiped her mouth off. "Yeah, go the fuck to sleep," she told him, throwing a blanket haphazardly over him. The gesture was deliberately careless, just so he'd know she didn't give a shit if he wasn't sleeping. Then she marched out of the room, letting the doors lock automatically behind her. She needed to find a bed of her own. Somehow, that blowjob had really taken it out of her.

***

Peter slept and the symbiote worked inside his body. It had fed well, both on its host's emissions and, surreptitiously, on the girl-human's own lust. She hadn't even been aware of being drained on a microscopic level, and now, without arousing any suspicion, it had nearly enough life energy to complete its replication.

Only a little more was required—another adrenaline rush, another bright star of pleasure—but the symbiote could wait. Its host had taught it patience, after all.

And soon enough, it sensed another girl-human. Another receptive girl-human, brimming with life force.

The symbiote would laugh if it were capable of such a thing. In its absence, it simply began anew the production of pheromones—now doubled by the addition of its fledgling spawn...

***

"Lana! Lana!" Lori called, dropping her tone until a flea could've told how fed up she was. It'd been hours since she'd gone off to tuck the webslinger in and read him a bedtime story; then she'd up and vanished into the chaos of the SHIELD rescue efforts, getting into God only knew what trouble. Lori circled the makeshift compound again, trying not to draw much attention to herself even as she tried to draw her daughter's very, very rare attention. "LANA!"

Growling, she circled back, darting through and between the many busy worker bees to arrive back at the officer's quarters Spider-Man had been put up in. Fury had assured her, in a flurry of four-letter words that put her teenager to shame, that Spider-Man was alone in there, that he personally had no knowledge of where Lana had gotten to, and furthermore, he didn't give a (here the majority of four-letter words came in) about some high school supervillain.

Smarting at the memory, Lori tried the door to Spider-Man's bunk. It didn't give. Fine. Concentrating her power, Lori made a small explosion right in the lock. Now it opened. She slipped inside, shutting the door noiselessly behind her with years of extralegal experience.

The hero was lying in bed, alone. Well, that was a relief. Good to know that at least a patriotic gimp suit was enough to scare her daughter's legs shut. Then she saw the bundle of fabric wadded at Spider-Man's ankles. Bulldozing forward in disbelief, Lori yanked the thin bed sheet off his lower body. The next moment, her eyes were wide as saucers.

It was a sign of how angry Lori had been that she hadn't noticed the bulge under the sheet. Upon her entrance, it had throbbed and the sheet had moved all the way to its four corners. Now, Lori saw in full what she had overlooked earlier. A cock nearly seven inches long, flaccid. And it was getting bigger.

In a way, breaking into the room had worked. Lori was no longer worried about her daughter.

She reached out a shaking hand, telling herself she just wanted to see if it really was that thick. Or was she being told that? Either way, she wrapped her fingers around his cock and found it quite girthy enough to fill her hand, twitching excitedly against her palm. As if by reflex, Lori began to move her hand up and down. She didn't mean to tease his prick. It just happened. Just as his cock just thickened and lengthened, running with her efforts in wild throbs.

She stared with fascination at the filling vessel of hot, pounding blood, her heart beating faster. Lori couldn't believe its size. Had Lana really taken that? It seemed so. Why else would he be undressed? But it was so big: thick and meaty, throbbing all the way down. She couldn't imagine Lana taking a cock that big; could she herself even take it?

Lori bent lower to examine it. Why was it glistening? Was it—wet?

She gasped, letting go of him, as Spider-Man gave a start. He laid a foot away from her and his cock still came close to her face, with its skin pulled taut over fat veins and its cap burgeoning with dripping precum just inches from her face. It bobbed in the air was if mocking her.

"I... I see what you're doing." Lori pulled her dark hair from its maternal ponytail, letting it fan out as she tossed it to one side of her face in a well-practiced move (one that had landed her Lana's father, in fact). "Lana's got you believing all those nasty little stories about me being some kind of town bicycle. So you think all you have to do is flop out a big cock and I'm yours, huh?" She said it in an exasperatedly dramatic tone.

Spider-Man said nothing, strong and silent behind the stony exterior of his mask. His cock no longer moved, but seemed to be even straighter than it had been before.

Lori took off her coat. It was getting awful warm in here. "Well, I'm not going to jump into bed with you just because you have a seven inch... eight inch cock," she corrected herself. "I have dignity. Self-respect. I'm a mother, you know! And a damn good one!"

Precum ran down his cock like sap from a tree. A big, no, mighty oak of a tree.

"So one quickie and that's it, no matter how much you beg!"

Lori's panties came off faster than she had done anything in her life.

***

"OH GOD YES! WEB ME! WEB ME, YOU FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD MOTHERFUCKER!"

Deep inside Peter's body—even deeper than the engorged cock was in Lori's frantically oscillating body—the symbiote added to the ancestral memories it was passing on to its offspring.

It now knew where Lana Baumgartner got 'it' from.

***

Lori emerged from the room an hour later, glistening with sweat, among other fluids. She was totally exhausted, her breasts swollen, her lips bruised, her fully erect nipples dancing inside her suit as she tried to catch her breath. She could've attempted to straighten herself up before leaving, but she hadn't wanted to chance another minute with that rock-hard eight-inch temptation. When she'd left, it was still hard, even though evidence of its depletion was presently running down her inner thigh.

She'd heard he had the proportionate strength and speed of a spider, but did he have something else as well? Did the arachnid family fuck like that? Because if they did, she was joining the nearest Buddhist monastery. She wanted to be reincarnated as something with eight legs.

"Mo-ther, there you are!" Lana called, running up to her. Lori huddled inside her coat, wrapping it tightly around herself. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" Lori retorted. "What were you doing in there? Is Spider-Man awake?"

"He's up," Lana replied. "Oh yes. He's definitely up."

***

When Peter woke up, he resolved to ask Fury if SHIELD sold its mattresses on the civilian market. That was the best sleep he'd had in ages.