Only in Houston

Chapter 16

Only in Queens.

"Did you do your homework?"

Peter blinked twice before deciding it was better to continue trying to go back to sleep. 5pm on a weekday, this was going to be the limit of his free time.

"Peter. Homework?"

"Yes, I did my homework," he groaned. Mary Jane laughed. "What are you, my mom?"

"That's one word for it," she said. Sitting on the floor by his bed was one look for her. Peter peered over the edge to see her digging into his backpack, a raggedy old thing that he didn't remember using so much, but there were a lot of things he didn't remember. Learning how to dance, how many licks it took to get to the center of a tootsie-pop, Harry Osborn and Gwen Stacey dying… he learned to live with it.

"If you're looking for my drug money, I keep that where I keep all of my valuables," he said, watching her sift past his mask to pull out his costume.

She gave it a sniff, grimaced, and threw it to the side. "You mean your porn?"

"Yes. Porn. Because I have porn. Lots and lots of porn. Like any other well-adjusted teenaged guy."

MJ didn't need to look at him to tell he was lying. He was as bad at lying as he was at dealing drugs. Fortunately, he'd gotten powers better suited to stop drug dealing, instead of ones that prevented lying. She pulled out his webshooters next and gave each of them a little shake. "Did you make any new webfluid yet?"

"…yes?"

"Is that a question?"

"Are you my wife or my mother?"

"I'm your ex," MJ said, looking up at him with a beatific smile that made him question whether or not she was really his ex. "And I really don't want you to die. So refill your webshooters, cowboy."

Peter waited until after she put the webshooters down and was starting to go through his notebooks. The homework was done, their teacher for homeroom hadn't taken it when he finished it in class… she didn't like Peter very much. She didn't like anyone. "Oh. Thanks, mom-wife," he said, and grinned when MJ stopped and glared at him. "I'd rather you not- you know, too."

"Peter Parker, don't flirt with me when I'm doing a wellness check."

"I can flirt a lot worse than that, you know that- but is that what we're doing? Because I could have sworn you were scouring jealously for something."

MJ snorted, but smirked. She laid all of his naughty toys on the bed – the sticky-stuff dispensers, and the gimp suit that showed off his moose-knuckle. Out of everything in his life, Peter supposed him being a borderline exhibitionist of an acrobatic vigilante was among the most mundane, considering. "Flattery of oneself is a common sign of either self-deprecation, which is only healthy in small doses, or a sign of narcissism, which isn't healthy at all," she said, and poked him in the stomach. "Which one is it, Parker?"

Peter considered it. "Gonna have to go with narcissism," he said. "Because I love myself."

"Maybe I should get you and you a room, then."

"Maybe. Or, maybe, since we have this room to ourselves we could, I dunno, do whatever it is exes do?"

He grabbed her wrist and she rolled her eyes, smiling as she put a webshooter to his chest. "Bang," she said. "Refill these. I don't want you complaining about running out again."

"But… I like complaining," Peter sniffed.

MJ stood up, taking his suit with her as she left the room. "I like you too, Complaining," she said. "No matter how narcissistic you are. Even better when you don't stink." She made a show of holding the costume away from her face. "Oof."

"Dry clean only!" Peter shouted after her.

"I sew it for you every week, I know how to wash it."

Snickering to himself, Peter put his head back to the bed and closed his eyes. Needed to get some shuteye before his nightly patrol. Homework done, costume would be finished in an hour or so because MJ was a stickler for cleanliness, and Aunt May would be back just in time for him to miss dinner, so there was just enough time to… He opened his eyes to find blue ones staring at him. He groaned, making sure the pain in his voice was audible and melodramatic.

She had just gotten out of the shower. And she was standing in his room. Not naked, but almost. Blonde hair long enough to 'tastefully' cover her nipples the barest bit, and a towel hanging low at her rounded hips to expose skin and the pearls of water on it. She blinked owlishly at him, pretty sapphire blue eyes boring into him from only a couple of inches away from his face. Peter blinked slowly. "Hey, Gwen…"

"Sup, bestie," she said.

As he leaned back into his pillows, she leaned forward. Gravity pulled her hair off her breasts and he could see everything. Her skin had gotten far paler since she stopped going to school – and going to school when most people remembered her being dead was kind of difficult. Fun for the first week, but annoying afterward. So much staring, whispering.

"Nothing much. Enjoy your shower?" he asked. She nodded. "Good, good… you uh… wanna do something, or…?"

She quirked an eyebrow and gave him a look. "Parker, are you coming onto me?"

Something about having visited Gwen Stacey's gravestone with her next to him had made Peter realize that life was too short to be bothered by the little things. Sure, he was trying to sleep before going out for a night on the town as Spider-Man. Sure, his best friends had died, one killed by his own father and the other one by a spaghetti monster before coming back from the dead. And sure, he didn't remember either happening. Sure, his supposed-to-be-dead friend was naked in his room, tits out and within tongue-kissing distance. Sure.

"I mean- you're the one who's naked," Peter managed to say.

Gwen looked down at herself. "Huh. Would you look at that," she said, swiping at the water at her skin. "Dripping wet, too."

She turned and closed his bedroom door. The towel dropped. He wondered if MJ's stickler-ism had rubbed off on Gwen, because she was… maintained. Peter mouthed words he couldn't hear as he looked at the plump mound of her crotch, the almost laughably cute tuft of golden hair on top of her pussy. "Jesus flipping Christ."

"Really? That's what you call me when you jerk off?" she said, boldly clearing the distance between the door and his bed in three steps. She was on his bed in the fourth, and in place of the fifth she turned and plopped down on his chest. Peter spread his legs just in time and she took that as invitation to start pulling down his sweatpants. "I'm hurt, dude. You know I'm not going to judge you for calling MJ 'mommy', but I want a better name than Heyflippingzeus."

"You're gonna have to fill out form-1610-B for that," Peter remarked, a voice in his head telling him to not let her have her way with him because she didn't deserve it, not with that attitude. That he should come to Massachusetts instead, see if there were any cute Asian girls there. Peter ignored that voice. "After a period of one to three weeks, you should receive your new name in the mail."

Gwen snickered and bounced her plump, pale, bare ass on his chest backwards until it reached his face. "Forget I said anything, geek," she said, fishing into his pants and pulling out the fat slab of meat between his legs with a heavy flop.

He was hard already, the sight of her dripping, and wet, and in a towel, and then sitting on his face being enough to do that. She didn't seem surprised for some reason, and ground her pussy against his face as Peter gripped her thighs in his hands. She nibbled her lip as he ran his tongue in a wide swath across her snatch and inner thighs. His cock hit her in the face and she breathed in deeply – she'd gotten the shower first, and he'd patrolled the night before, so her face was full of the heavy, musky scent dick. Her tongue fell out of her mouth and drooled a steady stream of spit on top of his pisslit before she gave it a little lick.

"So, hey," she said, conversationally sticking his dick in her mouth and brushing her teeth with it. Peter laughed beneath her – it tickled. "You do your homework yet?"

She felt his tongue stop short of punching up inside her – bad timing on her part – and brought her ass down on his face again, soundly, to make sure it continued its journey. Peter Parker's tongue bullied past the tight walls of Gwen Stacey's little cunt and that was just fine by her. "Mm nph dphng yphf hmphwrk fr yph, Gwmph," he said.

To Gwen it sounded like he'd be happy to do her homework for her. "Oh, you will? Thanks, bestie. I'd do it, but… I think I'm going to be sick." She cupped his heavy balls gingerly, rolling them around in her hand as she started to descend his cock down her mouth. Or up. "Overeating. Bad for a girl's diet I know, but you know bad habits are the hardest to break."

The door opened. MJ stood with her hand on the knob, a lot like Gwen, really. She looked annoyed. "Really? You couldn't wait five minutes until I got back?"

Peter threw his hands into the air and Gwen shuddered at the vibrations that shot up her pussy and into her brain. "Dmph lmphk aph mmph!" He shouted.

"Not you," MJ said. "Gwen. I expected better from you."

Gwen paused mid-lick, her tongue still curled around his fat cock two or three times. It moved and Peter softly bucked his hips against it like an invisible pussy. MJ looked at the action with reddening cheeks. Gwen shrugged despite it all. "Whaaryou, mahmom?"

MJ rolled her eyes and got on the bed too. "Well, by democratic vote…" she said, and opened her mouth. Her tongue ran against Gwen's and in the spots it didn't reach, far shorter than the blonde's, but more mobile because it wasn't wrapped around an erect penis. She supposed it was like they were kissing – over Peter's cock. Except Gwen's was wrapped around it like a fleshlight and she was busy pushing back her hair so she could suckle on his balls. "Salty…" she muttered. "Did you shower yet?"

She looked up at him from between his legs, while he was between Gwen's – Gwen herself raising just enough that MJ could see his face being used like a throne. 'Queening' was what Gwen had called it, as if Peter needed a word to have either of their asses on his face. He grunted. "Nphmph, mmomn!"

"Fuck… have him say that again," Gwen whispered. Her tongue retracted like a tape measure, leaving a strand of viscous saliva in its wake and splattering MJ with its mess. MJ could see she was busy trying to hump her ex-boyfriend's face for all either of them was worth, while his cock was twitching out in the open, eclipsing her face and drooling against the blonde's lips. She took a little jaded pleasure in nibbling the fat vein on the underside, just to feel his cock quake against her and the simmering, relaxing heat bubble up from her crotch.

"I don't know what he said," she lied. Peter had called her 'mom' and for that she was slathering his fat nuts with her tongue even though he hadn't showered, and Gwen was the one benefiting from it. Out of the three of them, she had to be the kindest. Not that it was any sort of competition, though between the guy who saved people's lives, his ex-girlfriend who sucked his nuts, and the lazy blonde shut-in who'd rather suck his dick instead of going to school, MJ had to at least be second on the list.

She could feel the heat well up in her core, manifesting as a hot, creeping feeling that left her panties feeling damp. But, being the kindest of them, she didn't address it, instead choosing to sway her hips side to side, slightly. Gwen got the message.

"Hey, Parker, you're missing a bit of a show here," she said, taking both of her hands to pump his prick with slow, heavy movements timed to the sliding of her asscheeks on his face. "I think… I think it's like, a mating call, or something? What's it called when a girl sways her ass while sucking your nuts?"

Kindness, is what MJ would have said if her tongue wasn't weighed down by his pulsing cumsack. "Down in front!" is what Peter would have said if his face wasn't pressed into the bed by Gwen's ass. As Gwen started playing around with her panties, riding high while her jeans started riding low against her ass, MJ wondered something. "Can he breathe?" she asked.

Gwen sucked her teeth, sounding not altogether there. She fiddled with the thin line of MJ's thong some more, tugging hard enough for MJ to feel it and for the blonde to feel jealous. "I didn't know these were on sale… huh?"

MJ rolled her eyes to the back of her head for what felt like the hundredth time, closing them as she pressed her lips to Peter's freely flowing cocktip, though at least half of it was the other girl's spit. There were a number of ways for Peter to respond to that. A thank you would have been nice, but salty appreciation in the form of a gooey shot of his precum on her tongue was what she got. The stuff she put up with, honestly…

"I said: 'Can he breathe'?"

"…Sure he can," Gwen said, after a moment. She retired to MJ's left, stretching out and splaying her arms like a cat. She arched her back, folded her arms, and laid on her stomach while Peter tucked into her from behind. As MJ sucked dedicatedly on his cock, hollowing her cheeks and showering his crown with spit before dragging it down to his balls, leaving his coated prick throbbing hotly in the air, Gwen languidly stroked in the aftermath of her slop, barely moving her head to let her long, long pink tongue slide just as lazily along the congruous vein on the front of the vigilante's shaft.

That was the tag-in, MJ supposed. She popped one of Peter's nuts out of her mouth, only to replace it with the other in a soft, double-tap of a kiss before she stopped for a moment to catch her breath, wipe her mouth, and to give Gwen her best skeptical look – it was good to get practice on it if she was going to be an investigative reporter. "Uh-huh. Peter? Are you conscious?"

Gwen laughed stupidly, biting her lip. She arched her back even more, popping her pale butt further into the air. "Heh. Heheh… oh, yeah, he's alive…"

MJ cocked her head at the sight. "But is he conscious?" she asked, then smiled a little, seeing him give a thumbs up.

"He'd have to be to- ohhhkaaayy…" Gwen's eyes opened wide, and then turned half-lidded. A low, pleased, growling moan crawled its way from the back of her throat, which she promptly speared with his spitslicked fuckstick as if her throat was made for him to do that. MJ thought she could almost feel the vibrations travel from her, to Peter's body, to her hands as they caressed his balls. As she put one back in her mouth, she found that she could.

Gwen closed her eyes and smiled, feeling his shaft sit, constricted and choked, in her throat until her natural need for breathing attempted to force her to regurgitate it. She fought against long enough to bring her pink, pillowy lips to the top of his balls, close enough for her nose to touch MJ's as rested them against her face, feeling the heated pulses radiate from them.

The blonde pulled up and the strands of spit and precum, if not cum that Peter utterly dropped in the other girl's stomach, that had lubed her mouth dropped onto MJ's face after dangling precariously from her lips.

"Save some of that effort for my… homework and not… my ass, dude. I know you're hungry, but come on…" Gwen said as, MJ assumed, her ex had his tongue up his bestie's, and her own partner in weirdness's, asshole.

"You're doing your own homework," she commented lazily, but it was like she wasn't even there. "And you're not kissing me with that mouth," she said with a roll of her eyes – mostly to his balls – and gave his muscled thigh a light slap.

Gwen leaned forward a little – enough for MJ to hear the sharp "Fwah!" as Peter sucked in air, a noise that was quickly muffled – she imagined it was because Gwen grabbed his scalp and eased him back inbetween her asscheeks. It's what she would have done, but even if the other girl hadn't, she used that mental image to sway her hips to, humping nothing but the air and her jeans as Gwen taunted.

"Ha, guess you don't kiss your mother with that mouth."

The taunts turned to giggles, which became quieter gasps, and MJ knew she was close to cumming. She always came quietly, happily, and more from her ass than not, and always from Peter. MJ would watch sometimes, seeing the other girl shivering, her body then going still, her tongue lolled out of her mouth and her eyes heavy, and…

Yep, there it was. "Mmnngh… nngh… mn," Gwen cooed on her queening throne, riding out the rimjob orgasm with the pale, plump globes of her ass tightening and jiggling on Peter's face. "Fuuuucckk… hmmn… o-okay. That's… a double plus, Parker. Good… hustle. Guess I gotta do my own homework now…"

It was going to be MJ's turn soon. Maybe. Just as soon as Peter extricated his tongue out of Gwen's hole and shoved it up hers. In the meantime, she busied herself with watching, waiting with her face to his nuts, but Gwen got her attention by knocking her noggin with fat dick. "Knock knock." MJ looked up and Gwen pushed her hair out of her eyes. Teamwork made the weird bestie, ex, and friend sandwich dream work, apparently. "You're supposed to say, 'Who's there', Red."

MJ knew who was there. A few gagillion sperm stewing at the bottom of her ex's testicles, destined to go into one of their bellies. Her tastebuds and stomach didn't much care for the idea, but she was looking forward to it. "Who's there?" she asked, a little amused, snaking her tongue down to his perineum, and then lower. Peter seized up, flailed, and finally managed to tap-tap on her head.

Gwen laughed, peering over his prick as though it were a wall, watching the top of the redhead's scarlet hair rise as she trailed her tongue back up. "Peter," she said, giggling at the joke in her head.

MJ rolled her eyes. 'Here we go,' she thought. "Peter who?"

"Peter, Petter close your eyes and open your mouth so I can give you something."

"That was awful."

"Yeph, iph phas kndph oph awphfph."

"Both of you shut up and stick out your tongues," Gwen ordered, hopping and slamming her ass on Peter's face.

MJ opened her mouth wide and let her tongue peek out, and going from the small, enthused "Ohh… there we go…" gasp that Gwen let out, Peter did too. She expected the slab of cock resting on her forehead and getting two girl's worth of drool in her hair. Not a tongue.

She opened it to find Gwen's slithering tongue wrapped around Peter's cock and thrusting in and out of her mouth. Her tongue wasn't sure what to do with it, but it recognized the taste. Peter's precum was salty, and thick, and tasted fairly oily even on another girl's tongue. Which wasn't something she was familiar with, but when it was pushing it down her throat, or up inside of her, MJ made whatever concessions she needed to.

The sound of Gwen's tongue was a lot like the sound a cock had to make if it were churning in some place wet. MJ supposed – none of them had had sex yet, with each other or anyone else – but some sounds just belonged to certain things. And, the wet, slick, messy noise of Gwen's tongue choking Peter's cock, him groaning into her asscheeks, and the "Glurgh, glurk, mmgh! Hnghk!" noise choking past the sixty revolutions per minute Gwen's tongue was making around her tonsils as it bullied her uvula, belonged to just that: a long tongue using her throat like the throat-turned-pussy that had been milking her ex's dick right in front of her eyes. A symphony set to the theme of the two dicksucking amigos and their good pal – but not boyfriend – Dick.

Gwen held her cheek with one hand and used the other to aim Peter's cock right at her face. MJ could see his cumslit was wide and ready to shoot. She held her hands to his balls and felt them pulse, and knew he was about to. She could smell it. "Open wide," Gwen said, retracting her tongue.

MJ did immediately, feeling like she was on the lowest part of the floor and totem pole instead of riding her imminent cum as high as she was, and not minding that at all. The first volley was like Peter was jizzing magma on her face. Hot, thick nutslime that lanced her forehead and landed in her hair. The second hit her in her closed eye so quickly it climbed with a heavy splat up to rest on her eyebrow. The third marked her freckles, while the fourth, fifth, and sixth hit her lower lip, chin, and neckline. She was almost sure Gwen was just hosing her down when she felt the rest torpedo in her mouth with force.

Over the sound of it hitting her tongue, ropes and ropes of Peter's fat, oily ballsnot splashing in her mouth, rolling down into the reservoir of cum that her stomach was becoming, she could barely hear him let out appreciative moans into Gwen's ass while she muttered, "Fuck, yeah… eat that ass, dude… You like it just as much as I do, don't you?"

But she was looking at MJ while she did, smirking triumphantly at her. As the rest of his cum petered out – MJ found herself smiling a little dazedly at the word, gingerly suckling at the tip of his cock with her swollen lips. She shook a little, feeling herself cum in her jeans just as Gwen's tongue started to lap up the cum on her face as she realized something.

She did like it.

After all that had happened to them, Peter supposed this was the best possible outcome. As if there could have been any other – and he knew there could have. But he was glad there hadn't been. Gwen dying, Harry dying, everyone just… getting hurt, dying, like he couldn't save anyone no matter how hard he tried.

MJ getting abducted by his very own insane clone, and him having, apparently, snapped, only to get nuked on his lawn by Fury and his Spider-slayers the night it happened. Gwen coming back from the dead, Aunt May having a heart attack because of it, her knowing his secret identity. Apparently he'd told her, but that was the funny thing about getting nuked by SHIELD's ordinance tailored just for Spider-Man – it left you with one hell of a case of amnesia. And Peter was grateful, because those were things he wasn't sure he wanted to remember.

When all was said and done, he and Gwen and MJ had gotten out of the hospital. The Baxter Building's very own hospital. He knew the Fantastic Four and was a friend of theirs, evidently – and he'd also dated one of the X-Men. The girl one. One of them – the pretty one with the brown hair that could walk through walls. And if that hadn't been the most awkward breakup ever. Because having to break up with the girlfriend you didn't remember having, because you don't remember her, was in a class on its own.

The why of it all had been revealed. Gwen… was Gwen, but she wasn't. The monster that killed her had become her. A red spaghetti monster that Peter had never seen and had only told MJ of after Gwen died, before he lost his memory, was Gwen Stacey. All the big brains said it was her –Sue Storm, Reed Richards, Tony Stark… Jean Grey.

Perks of being friends with Johnny Storm and the F4 and having an in with the X-Men, Peter supposed, but even without them, at the end of the day, in every way that mattered she was the same. The way she smelled, looked, acted, sounded, Gwen was Gwen – save for the really long tongue. Only Gwendolyn Stacey would come up with the idea of, "Let's go see my gravestone today. I want to say hi to my Dad and me."

MJ, meanwhile, had been experimented on by his clone. Peter was told she had been transformed, and MJ said he'd been there to stop her. That she'd been so angry, afraid, but with him there she felt safe and that he'd brought her back from the brink… Peter didn't remember that.

Jean Grey said that the amnesia had his mind all 'spotty', but that was the limit of it. It made his skin crawl having her look into his head like that, but if anyone knew what was going on in his head, a friggin' telepath did. But maybe Jean Grey, no italics, wasn't so bad after all.

And him, Peter Parker? He'd been chomped on by a vampire which, out of the three, was the least weird sounding. Sue Storm that had told him that for the days leading up to the entire… clone thing, he'd been coming to her, to the F4, to make sure he didn't turn into Nosferatu. They'd been doing blood work to make sure he was healthy and he was only in the hospital just to make sure that he still was, because if there were any records of teenagers being bitten by genetically altered spiders, and then vampires, the Fantastic Four's brightest minds hadn't heard of it.

It was an odd list. Gwen was there to make sure she didn't turn into The Thing and consume biomass – and Ben Grimm took issue with sharing the same name as that. MJ was there to make sure she didn't turn back into a furry – or so Johnny said, and… Peter to make sure he was, in Sue's words, "Alright."

All things considered, he was alright. Better than, even. Because even though the government had chosen him as the person to base their cloning experiments on, with one having been brainwashed into thinking it was his father, the other having had experimented on his girlfriend turned ex-girlfriend (at some point), and god knowing how many others were out in the world while the rest were dead, killed by Otto Octavius- and his aunt now knowing his secret identity and not kicking him out for it- He was fine. Better than he was before the gap in his memory occurred.

And maybe he needed some kind of therapy to work through it all. Maybe not, since the backwards therapy he, Gwen, and MJ were giving each other seemed to work just fine. So toweling off after spending three-time together was just another day for your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.

Although, for his sanity and privacy's sake, he chose not to tell anyone that he dreamt about being homeless and going across the country on foot, or doing that, but while having a vagina and masturbating in motel rooms as well.

That was just weird.

MJ felt a towel whipcrack against her ass before it hit her in the face with a wet smack. "Heads up," Gwen said.

MJ gave her a dirty look made dirtier and slimier, because she hadn't licked the cooling jizz off her face. She dabbed it from her eyebrows and eyelids, and then her collar, having learned that wiping only had it smear because it was so oily and thick. Also, that she preferred it hot and fresh from the source, not cold. That was something her stomach just couldn't handle yet.

Peter let out a dramatic death knell from the bed as Gwen plopped down next to him and bent over, seesawing the towel she had originally between her legs and asscheeks. "You know, all things considered, you look gross doing that," he said, turning to watch instead of looking away.

"Yeah, whatever. You weren't saying that with your tongue up my butt."

"I don't think I would have been able to if you were doing that."

"You're welcome."

"I couldn't have said that either, but now that you mention it-" She hit him in the face with the wet towel. He blinked. "Ow."

Finished, Gwen threw the towel aside, as if it were her room. It might as well have been she spent so much time in it. She put her feet on top of his and burped. "Mmn. I'm hungry. You guys hungry?"

MJ held her hand to her stomach, feeling the seed inside cool and gurgle. She pressed down to keep it down and to remind her misused digestive organ that she liked the feeling, even if it didn't. "I'm good," she said.

Peter felt his balls ache slightly, but other than that he was fine. His mouth tasted like fruity bodywash – Gwen's ass and pussy, he supposed. His stomach wasn't full, but his appetite had been sated for the time being. "Ditto."

Gwen looked at the both of them smugly, like she won some kind of contest. "Yeah, you two ate a lot, didn't yo- hey!" she ducked just in time to avoid – and catch – the towel MJ threw her way. Peter waited until after she did to push her off the bed. "You dick!"

He lazily gestured to the free space on the bed. MJ held his hand and climbed over him, like Cinderella into her carriage. "Milady."

"Why thank you, my…" she frowned. "Did you wash your mask?"

Peter blinked. "That's not my name, and it's a bit of a mouthful."

"She can handle a mouthful!" Gwen said. Peter looked over the other side of her bed to see her tonguing his semen off the towel. How he ended up with two girls with a predisposition to his sperm, he didn't know. He wasn't dumb enough to complain.

MJ flicked her in the back of the head without looking, keeping her attention on him. Her ex, who she had just finished performing invasive oral-sex on. Yeah, he had a lot of things to be grateful for. "Your mask," she said again, "You know it gets really stinky, right?"

"I think I do. I'm the one wearing it."

"And I'm the one that repairs it because you're too lazy to do it. And you forget to wash it and complain later."

Peter whistled and looked anywhere but her. Gwen was a sight he didn't mind, even if she was eating his cum like a snack. "Well, when all you have is a really pretty, amazing girl who sews and does your laundry, the entire world looks like bad fabric?"

MJ couldn't help but smile. "Nice save. So, did you wash your mask?"

"I… was planning to do it."

"You mean planning to ask me to do it."

"No- MJ, you know me – I don't plan anything."

She rolled her eyes again and fell against him. Peter let out an "Oof," and moved to kiss her. She stopped him with her finger to his lips. "Bear in mind that you just got finished eating another girl's butt and I just got through swallowing your semen," she said, closing her eyes for a brief nap. "At least one of us needs to brush our teeth first."

"Did you bring your toothbrush?" She opened her eyes and glared at him. Peter grinned. "Just asking for a friend. Whose name is me- I'm my friend."

"I will smack you, Peter Benjamin Parker."

"And I'm going to puke all over the both of you," Gwen said, draping herself over the both of them. She used his crotch as a pillow and nuzzled her cheek with his cock. "Bleh, you two disgust me."

"Excuse me? Girl who just licked cum off my face says what?"

"Yes, says girl who just got her fantastic butt eaten says, 'It was very salty'," Gwen replied. "…His cum, not- shut up." She reached over to the drawer Peter kept by his bed and pulled out her phone, and then pulled out his cock from his boxers. Luckily he hadn't pulled up his pants yet or she may have had a difficult time.

"When did you put your phone in there?" he asked, instead of asking why she was sucking his cock again. Because why would he ever do that.

"While you were swabbing my poopdeck," Gwen said, thwapping his cock against her tongue and grinning at the look on his face. Her tongue peeked out of her mouth normally, and the started to lengthen as she unlocked her phone and started to go through it. "Speaking of – you think I could-"

Peter didn't even let her finish. "No."

"But I let you do it all the time-"

"Let?" MJ chimed in, on her own phone now. Peter leaned back against the headboard and peered over her head as she pulled up the Youtube app. "That's a funny word for, 'Yeah dude, eat that ass, I know you like it too…' Don't you think?" she laughed, her voice lowering into a bad imitation of Gwen's raspier, huskier tone.

"I think so," Peter said.

Gwen turned a little pink. Peter saw it in her asscheeks first, and then everywhere else. "Shut up. I'm just saying, you have a prostate, so-"

"No."

Gwen pouted. "God, you suck."

"So do you," he said, and MJ smirked. "Sucks to suck."

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Not in perfect silence, Gwen made an absent habit of drooling spit on his cock and slapping it against her lips until it got hard, and sucked on it as her pastime while she looked up articles online. MJ was in his hand rather than his arms, softly gyrating against his palm while Peter groped her pussy through her jeans as she watched videos online. He was just enjoying life.

Gwen let out a little chuckle and held the phone to him. "Heh. Surfing the web," she said, letting his cock fall out of her mouth and rest on her face. It was Peter's turn to roll his eyes. "You gonna cum?" she asked. He thought about it, figured he could if given the time, and nodded.

"Good. Mouth. Hungry. Now," she said. Peter used his free hand to shrug listlessly, telling her in no uncertain terms that she'd have to work for it, as well as giving her free reign to do just that.

She started to slow-fuck her mouth with his dick and it was always… different than MJ's, considering her tongue and the fact that her throat was a moving, undulating, almost alive thing that mostly seemed to exist to coax the cum out of the very bottom of his balls and down her throat. But if Gwen wasn't going to complain about that, he wouldn't either.

She'd worked her way down to his balls, smearing his pubic hair in their combined slop, her tongue flopping out to lap at them, around his shaft, and beyond until Peter stopped it. Meanwhile, like it wasn't even happening, she was also sifting through news articles, blogposts, and twitter feeds. MJ was watching news online since, with publications like the Bugle, they all knew not to trust just one source of news. And Peter closed his eyes, let out a low groan, and flushed another load of near-congealed nut into his bestie's fleshy throat while his ex softly and quietly squirmed against the second orgasm she'd had in her jeans that day, in her jeans.

He could hear Gwen swallow, and swallow, and gulp. Peter was sure she was trying to swallow his cock whole, even though she already had. Her tonsils and uvula were slick with his cum and some had spurt out of her mouth to splatter against the hard muscle of his pelvic wall, but they bullied him for more, and so he gave it.

Before long she'd worked out another one from him, sucked him soft, and slowly pulled off with a long, wet, sliding sound and a satisfied burp that came afterward. "Urp. Thanks, dude."

"Don't… mention it."

"Hm," MJ muttered, mostly to herself, and mostly indifferent if not entirely comfortable with Peter feeding the blonde his fluids. "Huh… They finally named Ezekiel Simm's next of kin." She looked at the two of them expectantly; Gwen hiccupped and Peter just swayed, the latter cum-dry and the former cumdrunk. "Ezekiel Simms? Well known philanthropist? Millionaire? Queens-born globetrotter?"

"Oh yeah, him," Peter said, waving his hand.

"From the- the thing, right?" Gwen said, knocking at her ear. MJ half expected cum to fly out instead of water.

"Yeah. Love that guy, salt of the earth."

She sighed. "His next of kin is his adopted daughter. Cindy Moon." Gwen licked her teeth clean. For a moment, they were sharp and dangerous looking – as dangerous as they could be, coated in off-white and chunky jizz – but after closing her mouth and opening to yawn, they were normal. She prodded her cheek with her tongue at Peter, and he shook his head, causing her to shrug. That was all the reaction MJ got out of them. "Our classmate for homeroom freshman year? Really? Nothing?"

"The one who always stared at the back of your head," Gwen said, burping again. "Asian chick, short, quiet, real down in the dumps look on her. Kind of like you back then."

"Kind of like then back who?" Peter asked, in a daze.

MJ threw her hands in the air. "Sometimes I forget I'm the only one out of us that keeps up with our classmates."

"In my defense, I'm dead – and I still remember hearing she was a mutant, so there," Gwen said factually. "But we still appreciate you immensely, Cronkite."

After a couple of minutes of scrolling on her phone, Gwen suddenly paused. She looked at it, blinked rapidly, and then up at Peter. And then at his cock. He wondered if she wanted more to 'eat' as she picked it up and started looking around it. "I think you've shaked me down for all I got for a bit," he said.

"Pft, no I haven't," she remarked, and looked back at her phone. Then at him. "Hey Pete, in the last- oh I dunno, sixteen, seventeen hours… have you been to Houston?"

"What?"

MJ sat up suddenly. "Houston, Texas?" she asked. Gwen nodded. They both looked at each other, and then at him.

"I was getting a haircut yesterday," Peter said, pointing at his newly trimmed hair, shaved to an almost buzz at the sides. "Someone kept calling me roundhead Spider-Man."

"Oh yeah," Gwen laughed. "It was true. Well, here you go."

They held their phones to him. On MJ's, he saw a Houston news broadcast. There was a fire brimming in the background of a video, and a pile of… something on the ground, smouldering there. Broken concrete and glass, and the raucous cheering and noise of a crowd. Flashing lights. It almost seemed like some kind of red carpet party, but a good chunk of the video was heavily mosaicked, to the point that it might as well not have been there.

On Gwen's, he saw the headline. 'HOUSTON'S VERY OWN SPIDER-COUPLE SAVES HOSPITAL, WANTED FOR INDECENT EXPOSURE'.

Peter blinked. "Spider… what?"

MJ clicked a link on the article – which couldn't have been from an official publication since it took them to a porn site. She started playing the video, which was aptly called, 'Houston Spider-Man whoops Human Torch's ass, action is his reward'. Peter wasn't sure what to expect from a title like that save for some complaining from Johnny if he got wind of it. What followed was the tail end of a quick, vicious, savage beating of a man on fire. He ended up cocooned in a smoldering sack of webbing, and he saw…

"Is that- me?"

"Either you or a really bad cosplayer, but the dick definitely looks like yours. Not sure about the girl, though."

"You could tell?"

"Oh yeah. You don't have a vagina. But you look a lot taller here," Gwen said, moving so she could watch the video with them.

"Why are you wearing a hoodie?" MJ asked, looking at him.

If he hadn't already dusted his balls, Peter knew he would have probably started to panic. As was the customary reaction to seeing himself… get the crotch of his suit ripped off by a girl on her knees, in front of a crowd, in a city he'd never been in. "I'm not wearing anything."

"I'm just saying. It's Houston. Who wears hoodies in Houston? Queens I get, but- oh." She looked back to the screen and put her hands to her mouth as the crowd gasped, and the dick on the screen came out.

The camera zoomed in and the cameraman cheered, hollering, "Get it, Spidey!"

Peter blanched. "…Oh God."

"Look at her swallow that thing," Gwen whispered. "I thought I was the only one who could do that… Whoa, look at that…" she whispered, and they watched the money-shot lance the girl in the picture, who was on her knees and pressing her body against the… other Peter's legs in apparent ecstasy.

The camera man started to cheer, "Spider-Man saved my family!" again and again, and Peter rubbed his rapidly tiring eyes. "Okay, now really isn't the time for that."

"I don't think I've ever seen a girl so happy to get cum down her throat before and- wow."

The girl was dressed down in a red spandex that left no part of her body to the imagination, specifically how her asscrack looked clad in skintight red fabric, and though the camera came from the back, they could clearly see her furiously rubbing down her pussy as if it was on fire. The camera man shouted, "Yeah, Spidey doused that shit too, didn't he?! Whoo!" Peter felt himself choke, but the girl on screen didn't. She just swallowed, and swallowed, and licked her face clean.

Gwen tilted her head. "You know, I could diss her for going outside in a suit that small with a butt that big, but she has a nice, fat butt and I'm humble enough to admit that."

The two participants seemed to say something to each other that Peter couldn't hear over the video. Then they were gone. Not being one to look at his own press if he could help it, Peter had never known what it looked like when he leapt out of sight of cameras, much less with his hard dick gripped between his legs with a girl wrapping her legs around him, humping it. But as the video ended, he did now.

All three of them shared a look. MJ was the first to speak. "So… Houston."

Peter groaned. "We have a problem."

Gwen snatched the phone out of MJ's hands. "I'll say. Where's the friggin' download button on this thing?"

A/N: So that happened. 100 review special.