Felicitations Ch. 01

Felicia lay naked in bed, listening to the rain hit her building. He really wasn't coming. Peter was not her boyfriend anymore. She'd gone out and robbed a joint, but even that hadn't put a dint in her frustrations. Nor had spilling out her loot—all the cash money and one ornate scepter—onto her bed and lying upon it, momentarily using the scepter as a backscratcher. She was in for a long, lonely night.

And why? Why? Because Peter couldn't take someone just as outside the law as he was? Because the same cops who couldn't arrest the real criminals went after her for stealing from them? She'd gotten away with less than half the loot she should've. She was freshly bathed, all made up, with a dab of Spider's favorite perfume behind each ear and under each breast—young, beautiful, and turned on, every man's dream. And she was alone. It just wasn't right.

Felicia bit her lip in frustration, remembering Peter's cock in her starved cunt, how big it'd been, how satisfying. But he was too much a puritan to give it to her. If only she had gotten to him sooner—when he was young and naïve, willing to accept her lessons in life. She'd seen the news footage. He'd been cute... malleable...

Wiggling about on the actually somewhat uncomfortable bed of cash, Felicia ran her hands over her sleek body. She was somewhat embarrassed about it—not the act, but the fact that she couldn't get someone to do it for her—but there was no choice. She touched herself. She cupped her tits, squeezing them, molding them, thumbs rubbing her nipples into stiffness. Pushing her vast mammaries upward, she was able to reach them with her mouth, and she lathered both nipples with her tongue as she sucked. All the while she pictured Peter making love to her, his hands soothing her tingling breasts, his tongue hot and wet on her nipples, his hand between her thighs...

"God, yes..." she moaned. "Peter..."

Not the judgmental, responsible man he'd become, but a younger man... a boy, really...

***

Felicia looked her house guest over as he rested on the chaise lounge. It was hard to tell when he was in constant, scurrying motion, but asleep, she could see how his slender frame was packed with muscles, his body hard and trim, but obviously young. From her experience, she guessed that he was only eighteen, perhaps even younger. She sipped her tea, waiting patiently as consciousness returned to him. His gloved fingers twitching, his head turning from side to side, lips parting under his mask. He jerked up suddenly, alert and surprised.

"Where am I? What's going on here?"

"Relax, Spider," Felicia said, not moving as he took her in. She knew how good she looked, and while the sight of her in an only modesty fastened robe might've been intimidating, it wasn't threatening. Nor was their environment of her swanky penthouse. It wasn't like she'd left any of her toys out, after all. "You're safe. In my home."

"Cat?" he said, belatedly recognizing her without her famous costume. They'd had one or two run-ins and Felicia knew he considered her something of an annoyance, but not a real danger. He checked to see if his mask was on or not, and Felicia guessed he had some way of knowing if it had been removed or not, because he calmed down after he'd checked it.

"You had a fight with Doctor Octopus, got knocked out. I brought you here. Figured you wouldn't want to wake up in a police station. So what happened? From what little I saw of the battle royale, you looked a little sluggish. Weren't even quipping that much."

He sighed. "Serves me right for going into battle sick. But I don't exactly get sick days with this gig."

"Oh, poor baby. Let me get you a warm drink..."

His mask might've covered all his face, but Felicia could tell he stared as she uncrossed her legs and stood, revealing the hose and garter belt underneath her robe. They stretched seamlessly over her pale skin as her legs pumped, taking her to the kitchen, where she had a pot of chocolate on the stove. She mixed a spoonful into a mug of milk, nuked it in the microwave, and came back. Spider-Man had still not stopped staring at her, and Felicia couldn't blame him. She knew hot she looked.

"I'm a big fan, Spider. Loved you on the Ed Sullivan Show. So glad you've decided to embrace the outlaw lifestyle instead of becoming a boring old Avenger. If only you were a little better at it. The Bugle seems to know all about your heists, but all my colleagues just know you from getting beaten up and taken to jail."

Spider-Man looked up sharply as she set his hot cocoa down on the coffee table. "I'm not an outlaw. I just have a very, very bad PR guy."

"Have you tried dressing up in skintight leather with partially exposed cleavage?" Felicia asked innocently. "It works wonders for me."

"Got an editorial about skintight spandex and rock-hard abs corrupting the youth of America." Spider-Man pulled up his mask to over his nose, taking the cocoa and drinking some. His jaw was crisply square, clean-shaven, with white teeth underneath his chapstick lips. It confirmed Felicia's suspicions that he was quite handsome, though from the way he carried himself this was subconscious knowledge, and not something he actually knew. "Why are you doing this? Why help me?"

"Consider it my charitable donation. If I paid taxes, you'd be my write-off. I make an awful lot of money, you save an awful lot of lives... I should be taking care of you. Subsidizing you. Giving you the support you need to keep saving people and jailing crooks. Well... some crooks."

"I can take care of myself," Spider-Man protested.

"Oh? You look flushed. In fact, I think you're running a temperature." She came over to him, putting her hand on his forehead. It was hot even through the mask.

Spider-Man lurched away from her, deeper into the cushions he was lying on. "It's just hot in here. And the costume's a little stuffy. And I always run a little warm after I get my ass kicked."

"Now, Spider, is that the truth?" Felicia asked, sweeping her white hair from her brow, leaning in on him so her breasts were thrust in his face.

She could see how he stiffened, confronted with ripe breasts only inches from his face. Felicia waited for him to lean forward, smother himself in them, but he was too young and inexperienced to meet her halfway. He lay there, squirming, as Felicia petted his hair through the mask. Her tits right in front of his face. His prick throbbing harder and harder.

"You've definitely got a temperature, little man. Why don't you lie down in my bed? It's much more comfortable. I'll get a thermometer and take your temperature."

Spider-Man shook his head. Probably wanted to go someplace private where he could jack off while thinking about her. Felicia wasn't offended by the notion, but she would rather be nearby while he did it. Someplace where he could come all over her.

"I'll be fine, I should go—"

Felicia put her hand under his chin, raising his face until her own gorgeous reflection was in his mask's lenses. She knew how striking her blue eyes were, put full force against his. He could not be looking anywhere else. "I'm not letting you go until I'm sure you don't have a fever. You're a hero, Spider. I won't have you biting the dust because you're not at a hundred percent. Especially with that cute ass you've got."

She smiled, canting her head at just the right angle so now he could see nothing but her luscious lips. And, as if hypnotized, Spider-Man nodded his head. Felicia never felt his eyes leave her gleaming lipstick. He wanted to kiss her. Almost as much as she wanted him to.

She grabbed his arm and helped him up. He was still weak, stumbling against her for support. Or maybe just to wrap his arm around her waist, feel some of her lovely flesh through the thin white robe. Felicia, for her part, glanced at his crotch and almost burst out laughing. Definitely a teenager. She was good, but not good enough to give someone that big a hard-on with just a little show and tell.

She couldn't wait to have it out in the open.

Her robe fell even further open as she led him to the bedroom, a bare shoulder slipping out as it sagged down her body. She picked up a pillow and turned around as she fluffed it, holding it in front of her crotch. The open robe revealed a broad swath of skin right down the middle, broken only by the hanging, loosening belt, giving the impression that she was naked from the waist down, though behind the pillow, her panties still hid her.

She could see Spider-Man shaking. She turned again, setting the pillow down, then pulled Spider-Man to the bed, never turning his front to him. It was a neat little feather dance as she turned away just as he laid down, letting him see the robe further slip from her as she went to fetch the thermometer. It shimmied down over her bare back just as she closed the door behind her, then Spider-Man was alone with her bed and the smell of her and her bra discarded on the bedspread.

She reappeared, the belt of her robe retied, its material once more covering her. Now it was pulled so tight that her breasts could be seen through the thin cloth, her whole body outlined and silhouetted and almost on display for him.

Felicia shook the thermometer as she approached him. He thought she didn't, behind the concealing mask, how his eyes were following her swaying hips, but that was of course the only reason they swayed. "Comfortable?"

He was tense, desperate to jump out of bed and run somewhere where he could deal with all his urges, but also needing more of the sight of her, the closeness of her. "I'm really alright," he said unconvincingly. "I should go..."

"Not before I take your temperature." His mask was still above his lips. "Open wide, now."

Spider-Man opened his mouth, then his teeth closed around the thermometer. Felicia sat down next to him, her ass resting against his waist.

"You're really sweating," Felicia said, running her hand over his throat. "You must be really hot. Let's get that shirt off. What's the harm? I can't very well know your secret from your stomach."

If Spider-Man tried to protest, it was muffled by the thermometer he obediently kept clasped in his teeth. Felicia pulled the shirttails from the waist of his pants, out from under some kind of belt that cleverly concealed the join in the two halves of his costume. She pushed the shirt up his chest, running her hands over his wiry muscles as she did so.

"Oh! You're burning up, Spider. Sit up, now. I need that shirt off."

Spider-Man trembled, the thermometer bobbing in his mouth as he was helped up into a sitting position, his body pressing up against Felicia's, her breasts brushing against his sweaty chest. She could hear him moan, torn between staying and going. Felicia leaned in just a little closer as she peeled his shirt up his limp arms, letting her warm breath play at the nape of his neck. When the shirt had cleared his head, he saw that Felicia's face was right next to his. Her lips inches from his.

Then she let him lie back down, his sweaty back taken by the cool bedspread. Felicia hid her laughter behind a smile. "Oh, Spider—I think I know why you're sweating! That would make me sweat too..."

Felicia's eyes were down at his manhood, stingingly erect, and Spider-Man's were drawing up in his head. Felicia could tell just from the angle of his head. He was wishing he was dead, thinking he'd ruined things.

"It can't be comfortable," Felicia said. "Having a big thing like that stuck in such tight pants. We'll let it out. You'll rest easier that way..."

The thermometer quivered like a broken metronome in Spider-Man's mouth as Felicia reached for him, her fingers grazing the tented bulge in his pants. It lurched and throbbed, trying to get into her grip. Felicia ignored it for now, gripping the waistline of his pants. "Just pretend I'm your mother," Felicia said. "I promise not to look."

And she jerked his pants down.

He hadn't been fully erect before. More like half-hard, and the costume had done a lot to hide just how aroused he'd been. Now she could see the precum dripping from his cockhead, smell it on the inside of his pants, see just how big he really was. It wasn't hard for Felicia to pretend to be awed.

"Spider! Good God! Is that for me?" A blush turned Spider-Man's exposed face crimson, matching the mercury rising in his thermometer. "I guess I should apologize. I didn't know I was... affecting you like that. I mean, how could I know you like girls, running around in that outfit... was that really me?"

Spider-Man nodded his head.

"I'm so sorry," Felicia said in a consoling voice, pulling the covers over Spider-Man's namesake... at least, the second half of it. "But it looks like we have something in common. I'm not exactly... unaffected at the moment."

"What?" Spider-Man demanded, packing into that one word how he couldn't believe his ears, how he'd sooner believe he was going crazy, how he was just full of cum and couldn't believe he wasn't getting it out...

Felicia bit her lip. He really was cherry. She'd dropped enough hints to start a gangbang at a nunnery, and he hadn't even tried to kiss her. She had him, she knew she did. It was time to reel him in.

Slowly, Felicia lifted the hem of her robe. Up, up, up her thighs. "See, Spider, women get excited, same as men. Look. C'mon, Spider. Just look..."

The thermometer fell from Spider-Man's mouth, rolling gently down into his clavicle.

"This is my pussy, Spider. Ever seen one before?"

Spider-Man shook his head vigorously, the doll.

"Doesn't matter. None of them look as good as mine. And it gets excited, just like you do. My clitoris gets nice and firm, just like your cock. See it?"

Spider-Man nodded, thank God. With Felicia sitting the way she was, he should be able to see to her womb...

"When I look at you... look at your body... that big cock, and it is big, Spider, really big... my pussy gets all wet. Can you see how wet I am, Spider?"

Another nod.

"Do you want to feel how wet I am?"

Spider-Man gulped so hard, the thermometer rolled off his throat and onto the bed, making a little ping against the sheets. He stared right into the core of Felicia's wet, warm cunt. Finally, he managed to nod his head, one last time.

Felicia picked up his hand like it was a beloved pet, removing the glove, kissing and stroking the sweat-damp hairs in back of his hand, kissing the knuckles, even sucking on his forefinger.

"Oh... whoa..." Spider-Man groaned.

Then Felicia took his hand and brought his fingers against the lips of her pussy, rubbing them there, letting him feel just how ready she was to be entered.

"Oh, goddamn..." Felicia moaned.

"Did I hurt you?" Spider-Man asked, sounding hopelessly confused.

"Oh, no. It felt good. So goddamn good..." She drew the sheets away from his cock. It was just as hard as before. "Just like this..."

And she touched him. Squeezed him. Rubbed him. Felt a tug as Spider-Man pulled at her panties, and lifted her legs so he could work them off. She jerked on his cock. He fingered her pussy. She laid on his chest, watching her hand travel his shaft, his hand at work between her legs, breathing and moaning and feeling his body burn so very hot. She was amazed at how much was leaking from the tip of his cock. Where was all that precum stored?

Didn't matter. Soon it would be all hers.

"We're gonna fuck now, Spider." Felicia rolled over onto her stomach, drawing the pillow from the other side of the bed to down under her hips, lifting her ass comfortably high. Making it a particularly appetizing target. "I'm all horny... and juicy... ready to be fucked hard."

***

When she'd first started fucking herself, Felicia had felt ridiculous, but as her need grew, she got used to it. Peter was the only one who could satisfy her urges—without him, his stamina, his strength, what was there to do but this or give up sex completely? Sure, she could get a quick fuck anywhere, but not the hard, marathon sessions she got when she had Peter on the hook.

So she lay in bed alone, running a stiff finger along the folds of her sex, giving herself a weak buzz of pleasure. Soon, she would move onto the good stuff, even with the inevitable disappointment of it not truly measuring up. There was no hurry, though. No big rush like there was with Spider. At least this way, she knew how to get herself off. How to string out the pleasure and make it last as long as she wanted. Or until her wrist cramped. Sometimes it was the latter, sometimes the former.

Her kneading fingers brought her right to the edge of climax, then slowed. She rolled her clit gently under her other hand, hovering right at the brink of coming, not yet going over the edge. Sweet agony. She ached to climax, but didn't want it to be as low-key as she knew it would be.

"God, Goooooood," she moaned.

***

Spider-Man fucked her hard, crouched behind her like a dog, squeezing her tits underneath her as he raced his cock into her pussy. Felicia lay comfortably in her relaxing position, thinking that she could stay for hours like this. And it was possible her Spider-Man would last that long.

"Come on, Spider!" Felicia wiggled and humped her ass against him, biting her lip as her slippery pussy slid over the driving power of his cock. "That's right, fuck me hard! Harder!"

The phone rang just as Spider-Man was finding his rhythm, groping Felicia's breasts and hammering her cunt, his preternatural balance keeping him poised over her despite his inhuman stance. Felicia laughed happily—just perfect—and stretched her arm off the bed, picking up her mobile from the nightstand. Spider-Man paused and she slapped her ass, signaling him to keep going. She wasn't going to let him stop fucking her for someone too stupid to text her.

"What is it?" Felicia demanded into the receiver, lazily humping her pussy onto Spider-Man's cock. Despite her wishes, he'd slowed down.

"Everything's set up for the Montgnerro Job. Eddie got the plans, Bill's got the drill. You'll be there tomorrow."

"Oh yes." Felicia smiled to herself. "I'll be coming."

Felicia hung up the phone and giggled as she threw her pussy back against Spider-Man's cock, slamming her ass into his muscular loins, grinding her sex against his.

"What was that about?" Spider-Man asked, gliding his big cock easily into her, finally responding to her body's rhythm, finding that special pleasing pattern once more.

"Just a job I'll be pulling tomorrow," Felicia sighed. "You know... breaking in somewhere... stealing some shit... you don't mind, do you?"

"No," Spider-Man said, and Felicia shivered like an animal as her well-stuffed sex throbbed with pleasure. With satisfaction. "I just want you to be happy."

"Mmmmm... that sounds about right... but never mind that now, just fuck me, just fuck my pussy good, that's it, that's right, that's—"

Spider-Man redoubled the intensity of his thrusting, hammering himself in and out of her cunt. Felicia could no longer speak, just groan as she whipped her ass up to meet his penetration, the bed shaking with their coupling.

"Your pussy," Spider-Man gasped, like a man in a trance, "your wet pussy..."

Felicia's mouth fell open as he stopped. Trying to figure out why her pussy was throbbing and clenching around his cock. Felicia didn't seem to mind his pause. For nearly a minute she was eerily silent, and it was all Spider-Man could do to keep from coming as her pussy continued its pulsing.

"Coming," Felicia said at last. "Unh... unh... yes!" She moaned and lay exhausted under him, yet still almost painfully aroused. "Oh... you could've fucked into me as hard you liked... I would've loved it..."

"I didn't want to come," Spider-Man said.

"You mean you haven't?" Felicia said in genuine surprise. She thought he had, and she'd just missed it, lost in her own pleasure. "Oh, you man... you wonderful man... keeping that big fucker stiff for me..." She tightened her sex on his rod, feeling just how hard he was. Hard and still full of cum. "You know what would make me really happy?"