Meanwhile, in the Multiverse

Screw swinging around Brooklyn. They could have been doing this for the last couple hours?!

She'd always been able to tell herself that any spider-related hanky-panky she'd ever gotten up to had been due to external factors like amorous alien costumes or aphrodisiac-laced hallucinogens from other dimensions, but this was all her.

Unless it wasn't...

"Some spider-people kinda got this pheromone thing," Jess had told Gwen once. "It's not something we do on purpose, and it doesn't work on everybody, but sometimes shit happens and it's not a big deal."

Okay, it was right after Gwen had tried to kiss Jess at the end of her first mission, and the older woman had to let her down gently.

Gwen had felt so fucked up and out of it back then. "I don't know what I'm doing..." she admitted. "I don't even really like other girls." The two lessons she'd learned from her brief lesbian liaison with Betty Brant after the Battle of the Bands last summer -- second base at best in softball terms -- was that vodka hit Gwen a lot harder than she thought and maybe she needed to talk to someone about the awful sexual turn with her once living costume.

"Chill out, it's just a body chemistry issue with us sometimes," Jess said. "You know about Moon, right?"

"You mean her and Peter-67?"

"Damn!" she chuckled. "Him, too? I meant Scarlet Spider..." Jess sighed. "But I ain't gonna front, me and her kinda made out at the St. Patrick's Day party. Don't worry, my husband knows all about it..." She rubbed her big pregnant belly with a funny little smile. "I'm just saying, if you're from one of those worlds where people get all up in arms about who puts what where between two consenting adults of whatever gender or persuasion, here in Nueva York, there's nothing wrong with being a little bi-curious, Spider-Woman."

Gwen had long suspected that the pheromone excuse might have just been the materteral figure she'd been missing from her life giving her mortified mentee an out for her awkward, angsty pass, but even then, it sounded so much more plausible than that shoulder-touch nonsense... So what did Gwen know? Was this whole thing with Miles chemical? Was that why she'd let him fingerfuck her in public? No... That probably wasn't why. It's not like that had been the first time Gwen had cum on some skyscraper, but she decided she was gonna blame all this on arachno-spidery sex-spores. That'd be her excuse to Jess if she ever found out about this.

But mostly, she really hoped Jess never found out about this.

Which is why it was a damn good thing she and Miles were beyond the lovey-dovey puppy-dog eyes bullshit, because they needed to hurry. Again, Gwen needed to check on that sketchy wormhole guy, and she would certainly get back to that, but sometimes when life was a video game, you needed to focus on the side missions. They tended to be the most fun.

Miles scooped her up by the ass, and for a second Gwen thought he was going to dump her onto the bunk bed. Not exactly how she'd pictured this particular momentous occasion, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, so one made do. She'd hardly be the first girl to lose her flower in some guy's messy dorm... But he carried her over to the wall instead, hoisting her high. Gwen clung there instinctually, her legs sticking out like a frog, while he settled his sights on her wet muff once more.

"Before he died, my uncle left me with some sage words of wisdom," he told her, unzipping her suit. She fought back another eyeroll. Again, Miles Morales was such a Spider-Man. "The lady must cum first."

He kissed between her thighs and Gwen wondered if she should just nip this in the bud. His desire to tend to her was admirable and all, but wholly unnecessary. Had Miles missed the wetworks before at his thinking spot? That actually tracked. Gwen had been conditioned to climax as discreetly as possible, like back when she and her symbiote were learning about boundaries during a tense and tawdry daddy-daughter dinner date... ** Depicted in Spider-Gwen #99, "Beautiful Agony in the Olive Garden at Times Square" -LBD **

Honestly, when she didn't cum quietly, it was a little embarrassing, and they really were in a bit of a time crunch... Then Miles wedged his tongue into her cunt and she keened. His hands curled around her legs and he dove in again, licking between her wet folds with the flat of his tongue. Gwen gasped wordlessly as her body closed around him in another semi-silent shudder. He tickled her clit with the tip of his tongue while he fingered her. "K-Keep doing that," she pleaded. And he did. She ran a hand through that tangled mop of a 'fro, holding his head in place so she could grind against him. "Good boy," she murmured, and immediately regretted it. Miles' insecurity about his age was a factor, but she was a little worried that calling him "boy" crossed over into some weird racist shit. If it bothered him, he gave no indication, working her clit in circles. "Oh... Ah... Fuuuck... Yeah... J-just like that..." She was falling in love with those big, thick lips of his as he lapped at her sticky, wet labia. He had the perfect mouth for this. Why was everything about Miles so big and thick? "That feels sooooo good," she cooed. "D-Do you like how I taste?"

"Mm-hmm," he murmured into her quim, sending a shiver up from the base of her spine. "You're so fucking juicy." She'd heard it before, but it still turned Gwen on. Her fingertips slipped, so she pitched forward, gripping his shoulders so she didn't fall down as her body contracted in a little cum.

"Oh, shooooot!" She was panicking again because she couldn't hold this back. "If-- If you keep licking my pussy like that..." He didn't stop. Which was good. She certainly hadn't asked him to, but it was all just too much. She was sure Miles would notice this one, this was bigger than last time. "Fuck a duck!" Gwen yowled. She shouted the stupidest shit when she got off. Usually random phrases she'd heard that got stuck in her head for some reason.

Oh, God, she thought, sliding down the wall to plop onto Ganke's desk. There was paper sticking to her damp thighs, wet from her orgasm. He had been right about everything. His dorm room was very adult, and it was so much better direct from the source. She slyly peered over at Miles, convinced he must have thought she was a slut for cumming so fast...

"That was so damn sexy," he told her, his face slick with her girl jizz.

"You mean 'cool in an appropriately platonic way'?" she asked before he kissed her. This wasn't the first time Gwen had tasted herself. She'd gone further into her symbiosis than your average webhead, including that crazy long tongue...

"So, how exactly do we get you out of this thing?" Miles was clearly more concerned about her current costume.

"There's another zipper on the back, just under the hood," she explained. "But let's not worry about that just yet." Gwen shoved him back, sending him stumbling down into a rolling desk chair. Webbing him up as he spun around wasn't too tough. She'd seen it done before, and the look of surprise on his face as he slowly revolved was just priceless.

"Something about this seems very familiar," Miles observed.

"Does it now?" she stopped his languishing rotations before lowering herself between his legs.

"Whoa, wh-what are you doing?" he asked while she tied her hair back. Even on her knees, she didn't slouch, her back arched, emphasizing that lithe dancer's figure as she ran her hands up his thighs.

"If you really don't know, I assume you'll figure it out," Gwen murmured, petting that familiar bulge through his suit. Miles had a pretty simple costume compared to hers. Shirt, pants, gloves, mask. How he managed to keep that fly ambiance down the sides all lined up while swinging around town was anyone's guess, but Gwen was glad she wasn't searching for secret buttons tucked into well-hidden seams or anything. She slipped her hand into his tights easily enough. He felt even bigger in her hand than he had when she was dry-humping him on the bank building. "Let's get this off of you," she decided, tugging his spidey-pants down. The spandex dragged against his cock until it finally popped free and her bright blue eyes widened. "Fat Charlie Nancy, Miles!" she gasped. "I thought black was supposed to be slimming." Gwen had felt it before, but sometimes seeing truly was believing. "You have such a nice dick," she told him, as if she'd seen bunches -- a curious lie, but she just let it happen. "There's no way one little spider bite made a wang like this." She curled her gloved fingers around the stout base. His meat jumped and pulsed with each beat of his heart as she started stroking.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned. "This is craaaaazy!"

"You like that, Miles?" She leaned in closer, her beautiful face inches from his turgid tool.

"This definitely didn't happen the last time," he conceded.

"Peter didn't do this to you?" she asked. Her breath felt so hot on his cock.

"No, he did not."

"Did you want him to?" she teased. She licked his tip twice before taking a suck. Just one little suck. Just for now.

"It-It didn't come up..." he hissed. "Shiiiiiit..."

She gave him a light smacking kiss on the head before licking his length, lightly fondling his swollen balls. The weighty sack felt so heavy. She needed to do something about that. "It seems very up for me," Gwen remarked. There was no way this whole thing was gonna fit in her mouth, but that didn't mean Gwen wasn't going to try. Eventually.

He fidgeted against the webbing as her warm breath enveloped the tip of his dick. Her lips parted slightly, her pink tongue flashing out to lap the salty precum oozing from the slit. Gwen briefly imagined it lashing out to slither down and around his shaft like ivy all the way to his testes. She banished the debauched thought, finally opening her mouth and bringing her face forward as her hot wetness consumed the mushroom bulb of his prick. Her simple human tongue slid under his tip and she brought a few more inches into her mouth and his head lolled back as Gwen continued her first foray into the delicate art of fellatio.

"Ooooh, the Black Panther is veeeeerrry up for you," Miles moaned.

"Ha ha! The Black--?" Gwen snickered in delight on his dick. She couldn't even finish. She'd been trying to come up with a clever pun about how they'd been playing HORSE before and he had a horse cock, but she still hadn't figured it out. ** The best bits of sexy spider-banter get workshopped over years! I'm still crafting the perfect Spider-Man Marry-Boff-Kill joke. I know the punchline is Mary Jane Watson, Felicia Hardy, and Gwen Stacy, but how do we get there?! -LBD ** "Wow. That is a lot to unpack..."

"In more ways than one, right?" he suggested, wriggling his meat against her lips before she sucked the head between them once more. No clever retort for that one. Gwen just started to blow him in earnest, grabbing his hips for leverage as she pulled herself in, taking him deeper. She never got much more than half of his length into her mouth -- Gwen tried to deepthroat him once, but, for all her powers, she wasn't some manic pixie dream whore, she had a gag reflex -- so, she tried to make up for that by other means. She nuzzled as much of his sack as she could, swirling and sucking and licking with her lips and tongue. "Fuuuuck, yes!" he moaned as she mouthed his nuts. "Ch-Chupa mis bolas..."

Miles wasn't exactly helpless here. He knew exactly how to get out of his current predicament, but he wasn't sure that he could do it without hurting Gwen. And he certainly wasn't sure that he wanted to. The last time something like this had happened, he'd really gotten his bell run beforehand, so he wasn't quite with it. And he'd been bound up in these heavy steel chains. He didn't seem to be in any danger this time. Far from it. He couldn't believe Gwen Stacy was actually blowing him! Each stroke, each, lick, each suckle was heaven. He leaned back in the chair, struggling in vain to hold his hips still. She was sucking as much of him as she could, working his shaft with this clockwise corkscrew in her fist. She was still wearing her gloves, but the spandex was part of the tease... That thin layer denying him the exquisite sensation of her hot flesh against his, pumping his cock, but her mouth was wet and his and wanting.

Maybe if his arms had been freed, he could just grab the back of her head and push into her, but Miles was fairly certain he wasn't that kind of guy. Not for her at least. He was pretty sure she'd webbed him up for a reason. But the longer that little blonde head bobbed on his manhood, slurping and slobbering, the more he wanted to snatch that ponytail like a handle.

Gwen massaged his balls, cradling them gently between her dainty digits while nibbling the head of his smitten kitten.

"God damn, wow." He twitched in her mouth at that, instinctively pushing forward, but stopping himself. "S-Sorry," he murmured. "It just feels too good..."

"Don't worry about it, baby," Gwen said. "Just let it happen." She'd never called anybody "baby" in her whole life, but she thought it'd help Miles relax and enjoy this.

Unfortunately, she couldn't have been more wrong. Because that's exactly what Lori Baumgartner had said when she and her neerdowell daughter Lana did something similar to him five weeks before...

The dorm room desk chairs at BVA were pretty comfortable. Sturdy as hell. Adjustable. And the lumbar support was legit. The Bombshells had shackled him up to this shitty plastic stackable monstrosity they'd dug up out of the Roxxon power plant where they'd been fighting two days after Miles' eighteenth. His ass got so numb... Of course, he only noticed that later. The Baumgartners had focused their attention on different parts of his anatomy. First of all, they'd taken off his mask.

"Fuck," Lori scoffed when she saw his face. "I don't know why I thought he'd be somebody."

"That's so fucking stupid," her daughter Lana insisted. "Like billionaire playboys wanna spend all their fucking time punching out bank-robbers."

"Kinda cute, though," Lori mused. "If you like dark meat." She tugged his mask back over his head, but just halfway down and backward. It was basically a blindfold.

"Mo-ther!" he heard Lana shout. "That's so fucking racist!"

"Now who's being stupid?" Lori asked. "Trust me, little girl, Mama likes Black dick just fine. It's like I fucking told you, I may not know who the fuck your father is, but he was definitely one of the assholes on the basketball team. It's a stroke of fucking luck your hair's so easy to deal with."

"I still don't know what the fuck that's supposed to mean..."

White girls, Miles internally sighed. He got it.

"Okay, snap a picture of his face and let's get the fuck out of here," Lori said.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" Lana asked. "You said no fucking cell phones because S.H.I.E.L.D. can track them!"

Miles couldn't help but laugh. "I knew y'all were crazy, but I didn't know you were crazy crazy," he chortled. "Everybody knows that S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't real! It's a conspiracy theory!"

"Fuck you, I've seen shit on TickTalk!" Lori snarled at him before turning on her daughter. "And since when the fuck do you actually listen to me? You don't have one of those damn burners?"

"You blew it the fuck up!"

"You know what I think the problem is?" he chimed in. "You two spend waaaay too much time together. A little distance might do you good."

"The other Spider-Man was so much fucking funnier than you," Lana told him.

"He was still corny as fuck, but he made me laugh once," Lori agreed.

"Let's strip him naked and leave him for dead," Lana suggested, tearing his pants down. "Holy fuck! His weenie's so fucking thick!"

"And he's not even hard yet," Lori noted.

"R-really?"

"Really." She was right. Miles didn't find anything about this arousing. "Don't tell me this is the first fucking dick that you've laid eyes on."

"I spent last year in fucking juvie thanks to this asshole!"

"Well, then, I think he owes you." Miles did not like where this was going. "Go ahead and touch it. Watch what happens."

"I... I don't know..." Lana murmured.

"Don't be shy, sweetie," Lori scolded. "Timid girls get taken advantage of. They get knocked up too fucking young because they let men do whatever they want. Believe me."

"Yes, mother, I know," Lana sighed. She'd clearly heard this kind of crap before. "Boys are fucking useless."

"Now I never said that," Lori tutted. "Men certainly have their uses. And there are ways to get them to do whatever the fuck you want if you're smart about it. Let me show you. Why don't you give it a little squeeze?"

"Fuck, puta!" Miles groused when Lana clutched his junk. He wasn't proud of himself. He didn't want to be the kind of guy who addressed women like that, but, well, these were extreme circumstances...

"Shut your fucking hole!" Lori ordered. "Who the fuck do you think you are? Why the fuck are you always on our case? It's not your fucking money! Mind your damn business! What the fuck is your damage?"

"Do you want me to shut up or answer your questions?" he asked. "Kinda getting mixed signals..."

Lori smacked him across the face.

"N-not really an answer," Miles muttered. He'd had worse.

She smacked him again. This one kind of smarted. Miles suspected she'd used a bit of her powers that time. "When I want you to use that fucking mouth of yours, you'll fucking know..."

"Geez, lady," he spat. He couldn't help himself. "Language." That earned him another slap. Yep. Her ability to generate a concussive force was definitely at play.

"It's not working, mother," Lana whined before Lori hit him again. She'd been clumsily tugging his flaccid member the whole time he'd been getting pummeled.

"That's because you're doing it wrong," Lori scolded, batting her daughter's hand away to replace it with her own. "Don't fucking yank it, you wanna stroke." Baumgartner the elder was much better at a handy. More of a caress than a clawing. Despite his ruminations on Mets box scores and the web fluid formula, the Black Panther purred, stirring to life, majestic and proud to be on the prowl...

"What the fuck?!" Lana practically whinnied. "It's fucking gigantic!"

Nobody had ever indicated that Miles had a big dick before. He had always assumed he was average. Brooklyn Visions Academy, being the progressive educational institution that it was, had a modern locker room with private stalls, so there wasn't any of that loose and wild gym shower comparison crap you saw in 80s movies. He was more or less the only person who'd seen his penis in years, barring the family doctor and that one time when Miles forgot to lock the door and he learned that his dang danger-sense couldn't care less about his roommate walking in on him beating off to those eCloud leaked Fappening photos of Mary Jane Watson-Parker. Miles was pretty sure Ganke's reaction of "Holy shit!' as he backed out of the room had nothing to do with his size, but believe it or not, they never talked about it...

"I've fucked bigger," Lori sighed. Well, there went that little ego boost. "But once it's nice and hard, then you can go faster." She was working up to a good rhythm. "Do it just like me." And just like that, there were two hands pumping his member. Miles tried to stay quiet. Not because Lori had told him to, so much as he didn't want to give them the satisfaction.

Thinking about those nudes of MJ wasn't helping. He still couldn't see, so it was all about mental imagery at this point, and he couldn't get Mary Jane out of his head. Miles could find plenty of naked girls on the Internet, but those snaps of her were different. Because he kind of knew the original Spider-Man's widow. Whenever there was some public memorial event for Peter Parker, she'd make an appearance just like he would, and she'd talk to him. MJ was always so sweet, if a little sad. Which is why jerking it to those photos of her felt so wrong somehow. Which was exactly what made it so hot...