Go home!

Options. That was the most important thing. She just had to get somewhere closer to home, somewhere more private, and she could figure things out.

It just so happened that meant…

Tentatively, Gwen stepped closer to the edge of the roof. She took a hasty step back after a moment, cheeks burning. The street sure as hell wasn’t an option.

Admittedly she’d gotten rather familiar with the rooftops of New York, but never like this. Gwen took a deep breath.

Well did she have a choice? She glanced around, just making extra sure no one was up there, and then took a few steps back.

She’d done this thousands of times before, she told herself. Being naked didn’t change any of the mechanics, this was still the same basic that she was practised it. Take a step back, then start sprinting, take a running jump…

Bare legs flailing, Gwen leapt off the building, blushing beneath her mask for the few seconds her pussy was bare and far, far too exposed to anyone that looked up.

Then she landed on the building the opposite side of the street. Ok, one down…

She took a deep breath and ran again, feeling the wind rush past places it never should have. Her tits shifted with each motion, to say nothing of her tremendous running jumps, pale pink nipples hardening in the cool air.

She wanted to cover up, so much, but using her hands wasn’t an option like this. She whimpered, emphatically keeping her arms out to her sides.

And then she came to a stop, three rooftops away. No more jumping; from here, the rooftops were too high, and starting to get to the point where there was no decent space to get a run-up. All aerials and boxes, she’d need to start webswinging.

Gwen took a deep breath. Hesitantly she again peered over the edge of the rooftop, drawing back quickly and praying nothing else had come into view over the precipice.

The city was always busy, streets jam-packed 24/7.

Either way, she wanted to get higher, as far from the street below as she could. Webswinging nude as bad enough.

Deep breath, she told herself. Fuck, fuck, fuck…

Taking one last running start, Gwen flung herself from the roof; she yelped as she crashed into the glass window on the other side of the street, landing in what would be her usual pose, all-fours against the vertical surface.

Only now it was a full-frontal all-fours, and oh god, she hadn’t thought this through! Her hands, her hands…

Her feet hadn’t played up yet. She could still run with them, rather than her shoes sticking into place, though whether that was just because her feet were somehow different or because the bite had been closer to her hands she didn’t know, and she didn’t want to question it.

Hopefully that wouldn’t change any time soon.

But her hands were very much stuck. Eyes widening, Gwen squirmed, pressing herself against the window.

Her ruined garments stayed where they were, pinned between her hands and the glass as though mocking her, inaccessible and unwearable anyway, while the superheroine’s nude form stayed out in the open.

Her behind was visible to the street, and-

A door opened on the other side of the window, a trio of well-dressed co-workers talking to one another before, all at once, they came to a sudden stop.

“Whoa,” it was easy to read the lips of one of the men, greeted by the site of Spider-woman’s tits and even her slit stuck to the window in front of him.

Gwen blushed, then whimpered as one of them lifted his phone to snap a photo of the fit Spider-Woman.

Oh screw it! She pulled as hard as she could, yelping but breaking the window with her enhanced strength, and swiftly resorting to sprinting.

Just… she should never touch anything with her hands. Oh god. She hoped she’d gotten away before that photo could be taken.

She kept running, toned ass facing down towards the street as she went up the side of the skyscraper. As she neared the top Gwen swallowed, then leapt back.

She stuck one arm out, sending web shooting off into the distance. It stuck fast against the top of an adjacent building and she let it carry her on in an arc, staying far, far above the crowded street below.

Just focus on swinging, she told herself, beet-red below her white mask.

At least no one would know it was her. They’d know Spider=Woman sure, but not Gwen Stacy. Not like that changed the fact that total strangers had just seen her tits!

And then she watched as her clothes fell from her hands. Gwen yelped, but didn’t dare swing lower to catch them.

Oh, of all the times to unstick… Though somehow she got the feeling that was more likely to be random than a sign she’d gotten better.

Whimpering, the nude Spider-Gwen swung on, lithe body whirling and twisting as she sped past the rooftops, all the while relying on nothing so much as the fervent hope no one was looking out their windows.