Deeds, Not Words

Sue Storm had taken the precaution of getting an outfit that fit her new body. She would need to do a lot more shopping, of course; and the unstable molecule loom was already printing new form-fitting costumes that could handle bigger bust and buttocks, slimmer hips. But the go-go boots and pencil skirt were ones that Mary Jane had worn in one of videos, and the tight shirt and wonderbra emphasized proportions that were identical to the model at her prime.

The heroine had touched up the red dye on her hair, which had grown out to collar-length. She brushed forward the bangs, as Mary Jane had worn them.

When she stepped through the door to Reed's lab, heart hammering in her chest, the Invisible Woman did her best to mimic a model's confident stride. Reed's mouth dropped open as a vision that was almost Mary Jane Watson, but was most definitely his wife, sauntered up to him, raised one booted foot onto the chair he was sitting in, and leaned in close.

In a husky voice, the same intonation that Mary Jane had used before she had quit smoking, Sue whispered:

"Face it, tiger—you've hit the jackpot!"

She expected questions. Reed was brilliant, perennially curious. He would want to know how she had done it. Sue was prepared to tell him, in great detail. To outline every step of the process, to sake that intellectual curiosity.

Sue was not prepared when Reed Richard's cock burst forth from his pants and tore through her panties with the speed of a striking cobra.

The penetration was so sudden that the air emptied from Sue's lungs in a sound that could, to a lust-overwhelmed brain, sound a lot like a sigh of utter content.

She heard the crash as Reed swept the desk clear. Felt the hard edge of it against her ass, a moment after her back slammed into it. Then he was on top of her, in her, one arm stretched out to seal the lab, the other tearing through her outfit to get at those bigger, firmer tits.

Instinctively, Sue crossed her heels behind his back. The most intelligent man in the world slammed his cock into her until his balls, swollen by his power, slapped into her ass like a paddle. His cock pulsed and stretched inside of her super-tight cunt, and Sue's nails, dug into his rubbery back, unable to draw blood, but with the fierce need of a drowning woman clinging to a life preserver during a hurricane.

The first time was quick. Like the touch of a tornado on a prairie, erasing a house and moving on.

The second time, though—that was slower. More studied. They kissed then. Blood oozed from a hymen that had been torn for the second time, something that Sue hadn't realized had been part of the deal when she had changed her body. They moved together, Mister Fantastic's cock sawing in and out of the false Mary Jane's pussy, imagining himself painting the mouth of her womb white—but it was his wife, his own beloved wife, who moaned like a whore and begged him to fill her to the brim.