Black Out

Spider-Gwen III

Peter again started thrusting into Gwen—short, fast strokes—stealing away whatever was left of Gwen’s determination not to enjoy the salacious pleasure running through her. It felt too good to struggle anymore. She wanted to lose herself in the waves of pleasure that rolled through her every time Peter plunged into her tightly clasping sex.
 
Peter increased the tempo of his thrusts, making his strokes longer, and Gwen went along with him, her entire body warming as she trembled with his penetration. Peter dropped his mouth to hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth just as his cock had entered her cunt, and she sucked hungrily at his tongue just as her pussy was doing to his member. Her entire body was now debased acceptance of what he was doing to her. She pushed her hips up to meet him, letting his prick go even deeper into her wet cunt.
 
She was sweating now, the cords of her neck standing out with the tension that ran through her every time she had to strain around the stretching of her cunt. And when he pulled out, her head whipped from side to side as if in denial of losing his cock, even for an instant. Guttural noises rose from deep down in her throat. Peter could tell no one had ever gotten anything like this out of ‘Spider-Gwen’ before. Which only made sense, as certainly no one had put anything like his cock into her either.
 
She drove her ass up so that her cunt swallowed his cock, taking it to the hilt no matter how much it hurt, how little she’d been stretched before he’d taken it on himself to do so. She was the next best thing to a virgin, but as horny as a nymphomaniac. The combination was driving Peter crazy with lust himself. He wanted to push her as far as she could go, leave her not even able to think of being a good girl.
 
Her golden blonde hair was spread out in every direction from her beautiful face like a halo, every gleaming strand of it rippling as her head bobbed wildly. She forced her twitching legs out to either side, opening her thighs even wider to let more of Peter’s rigidly impaling cock in, or at least make its passage easier as he pistoned in and out of her cunt. Gwen looked down once at the massive impalement of her sex and then her eyes rolled back in her head. No one had ever told her that a man could make her feel this way, better even than the crazed pain as he ruined her cunt. She rammed it up to him, not caring if his immense cock permanently damaged her pussy, only that the rapture she felt continued to be as unbearably intense as it was now.
 
“Don’t let it stop, don’t let it stop,” she muttered, though she didn’t know quite what she was saying. Maybe she was praying. Maybe she was praying and Peter was her new god.
 
She hadn’t known, couldn’t have known, that such a thing could happen to her… that she could be mated with like some wild animal and yet enjoy it. Hope it would never, ever stop.
 
Peter drove himself into Gwen ever harder now, as if somehow knowing that her body could just barely take his increased force without simply breaking. He would pull his hotly throbbing cock nearly all the way out of her, then plow back into her all the way to the hilt, his aching balls slapping against her ass with a weighty thwack. His cock throbbed harder than ever, stricken by the incredible pressure mounting in his engorged balls, and he grunted in lusty exhilaration. The need for release was far too great now for him to stop, and he pounded Gwen’s sex in a frenzy, making her scream in sheer rapture.
 
He went faster and faster, grinning as he saw that Mary Jane was aiming the camera between Gwen’s legs, where his cock was thrusting into her wildly sucking cunt. He hoped the show looked as good as it felt; the feeling was indescribable as he pulled himself free with all his will, leaving the clasping paradise of her hot pussy only to be overcome with temptation and return to it, disappearing into the depths of her folds, and all while MJ taped it. He put his hand on the fleshy button of Gwen’s clit and rubbed it between thumb and forefinger, making even her screams shatter and emerge brokenly from her hoarse throat. Her cunt spasmed tightly while her fondled her clitoris, gripping his cock as if to hold them together forever.

Peter twisted Gwen’s clit roughly and her long slender legs shot up over him, toes clenching, mouth open in a pain-contorted expression, but no sound came out. Peter smiled anyway; Gwen was drooling. She was almost there—again.
 
He pumped into her wildly, shoving her knees back against her chest, the molding of Gwen’s body into his personal fuckdoll making her cunt tighter and wetter than ever. He could feel her juices running out of her sex with each thrust he made into her. Gwen Stacy—what a woman. And what a cunt!
 
Her swollen tits shook heavily with the force of his thrusts, the nipples looking painfully hard as she jerked and convulsed, her head thrown back, the rigid muscle of her neck standing out.
 
“Gk—hn—hh!” she voiced painfully. “Peter, I’m going to—oh yeah, now, right now, nowwww!”
 
He thrust into her again and her warm wetness splashed out of her, up to his belly button. She was squirting, but that didn’t stop Peter was bathing his thundering prick in her juices with every ounce of strength he had. She contorted and twitched underneath him, wailing as her cunt sucked and pulled at its own painful impalement. Her pussy knew what to do, even if her mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening to her.
 
Peter felt his seed coming to a boil, launching itself from his bloated balls and through the full length of his shaft until it had found Gwen’s cunt. It ran from his cockhead in gasps of flaming release, pooling inside Gwen as she wailed deliriously, the deposit inside her growing until Gwen’s almost agonized cries became a long exhale of complete and utter satiation.
 
Never had Gwen known the fullness of having a man come inside her so much, so hard, and she wouldn’t have believed it possible that the feeling came with such peace and such serenity. She had only done this because she’d lost control of her lustful body—not expecting that her well-used flesh would end up being so… fulfilled.
 
Now that Peter was done, she felt her body ache. It wasn’t just from being ravaged, but that she had been pierced with realizations she could never have expected. Who she was, what she enjoyed… even now, she could not stop thinking how wonderful it felt to have Peter lying on top of her incredibly satisfied body, his manhood still buried deep inside her. She could still feel it throbbing. She still wanted it to fuck her.
 
Gwen tried to fight it, like this was all some insidious mind control. She denied it with all of her being. She didn’t even halfway believe that, but she had to act like the old Gwen—the Gwen who didn’t come like a wanton slut from being violated—until she could sort out… whatever it was that had happened to her.
 
“Please, Peter, can you…” She struggled to keep her voice under control. She wanted to beg him for more. She wanted him to fuck her ass and fuck her face and all while Mary Jane watched, so she could know what a whore Gwen was too. “Can you take it out of me? Please?”
 
Peter did, rolling off of her and onto his side. He perched his head on his hand and looked her over like he was lying in front of a TV, enjoying a show. “Are we having fun yet?” he quipped, staring down at the streaks of her own wetness that glistened on her thighs like a road after rain.
 
“I… I enjoyed that,” Gwen admitted, low and reluctant. How could she deny that when she was lying in a veritable pool of her own cream?
 
“Good,” Peter said, patting her on the stomach, and Gwen’s belly roiled as all the cum she had taken shifted inside her. “Another satisfied customer. But don’t bother coming to terms with how you’re addicted to my cum now, not just yet. We’re not finished.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked, her body cringing in horrified uncertainty. Surely, after he’d dumped so much cum in her that she felt like she’d eaten a four-course meal, he couldn’t… even Spider-Man couldn’t…
 
Thwip! Peter shot out a length of webbing, snagging the camera and pulling it from Mary Jane. He focused it on her now. “Ready for your close-up, Ms. Watson?”
 
“I think so, tiger, but I’ve gotta say—after seeing the show your cock put on, it’s gonna be hard to get excited for a little muff-diving.”
 
Gwen turned to see Mary Jane. Sitting on an air conditioning unit, the redhead wore nothing from the waist down. Gwen’s ears burned. Her face flushed. This was too much—disgusting, depraved!
 
“No!” she yelled. “I won’t do it! I won’t do what you want!”
 
“Alright then,” Peter said, as nonchalantly as if Gwen had just announced she didn’t want to join the two of them for drinks. “Have it your way.”
 
With a shot of webbing, her mouth was gagged again. Peter set the camera down, the lens facing Gwen, and for a moment, Gwen stared at her debased reflection in that lens. She couldn’t figure it out. Why would Peter, as perverted as he apparently was, want to record her and not his own fuck with Mary Jane?
 
Then she looked up. Mary Jane was on her knees, devouring Peter’s cock as if she’d never tasted anything so good in her life. She held his balls in one hand and his fat shaft in the other, pumping him vigorously, milking his balls for their cum. When she pulled herself off of his engorged manhood, it was only to spit a huge gob of saliva on it, then she would dive back down, swirling her head around as she pitched it to the bottom of Peter’s length.
 
Gwen was filled with rage and repulsion, but at the same time she couldn’t help but be aroused, seeing the passion and enthusiasm that Mary Jane had meant to use on her. Peter, PETER, how could you do this to me? A hysterical voice inside her demanded.
 
That was when she realized what the camera was for. Peter was going to record her watching them while his full attention was on Mary Jane. He’d be able to see how lustful she grew, how much she wanted to join in, all the depraved urges that ran through her as she was made an unwilling voyeur to their lovemaking. And there wasn’t a thing Gwen could do about it. Not even come.
 
Mary Jane took Peter’s lengthy shaft into her throat as far as it would go, humming with enjoyment at having it stuffed down her gullet. Then, her sensual lips clinging to every vein of it, she pulled herself off of his erection—when she reached the end, she furiously licked the cockhead.
 
Peter nearly went out of his mind with pleasure. “Nnngh! God, baby, do it like that, yes, fuck, yes!” he groaned as she frantically sucked at his enormous prick. Even Gwen had to admit that Mary Jane knew what she was doing.
 
Peter reached down to Mary Jane’s heaving breasts, squeezing them with one groping hand, plucking at the nipples. Mary Jane gasped, letting his throbbing member slip out of her mouth as he twisted her nipple.
 
“Mmm!” she moaned, before arching her back, cupping her breasts in her hands to offer them up to Peter. “Always nice to meet a fan—which do you like better, my tits or my mouth?”
 
“Your mouth,” Peter grinned. “Anyone can have big tits. But nobody can suck cock like you can.”
 
Gwen’s ears burned with offense on behalf of her other self. Hadn’t this universe’s Gwen and Peter been a couple? Surely the other Gwen had gone down on him, and if she was anything like Spider-Gwen… how could he say such a thing? Gwen asked herself as jealousy shot through her bound body.