Mary Jane Watson

“MJ, are you sure you’re ok? You look really pale.”

“I’m fine Petey, totally fine,” said Mary Jane Watson, slipping the strap of her bra off of her shoulder. “It was just some drunk guy, no need to worry about me.”

The memory of the attack had faded in MJ’s mind, turning into a blur so she’d made up a story to tell Pete. No need to worry him. The world didn’t need Spider-man with half a mind on whether his girlfriend was walking home alone or not. Besides, she felt amazing. She felt full of life, the world smelt great, everything seemed sharper, sounds were clear as a bell. She could even hear the couple downstairs whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears. The loudest sound of all was her man’s heartbeat, speeding up as she dropped her bra to the floor and slipped off her already wet panties.

“Come and get me tiger,” purred MJ, beckoning Pete as she backed towards the bed. Pete didn’t need asking twice. He reached round to pull off his mask.

“No, leave it on. I want to fuck Spider-man tonight.”

“Oh… ok. Sure.” This would be a first, thought Pete. He wasn’t even sure how it would work until MJ answered the question by running a sharp nail along his crotch, tearing the suit and releasing his hardening cock.

“Hey, I’ve only got two of these... “ he started to protest, but was silenced by the feel of MJ’s cold hand wrapping itself around his engorged member. She tugged him onto the bed and Peter leaned in to kiss her. He was met with a hand on his masked face.

“No, tonight I’m in control. Lie back,” said MJ, pushing him forcefully onto his back. The small act of domination felt good, right, natural to her. He should obey her, she was a goddess, and tonight he was her ****. She smirked, exposing a glint of a sharp tooth, then glanced down at the cock that was pointing up at her. She could hear the blood pumping through it, all for her. The sculpted body underneath her could have been anyone wearing Peter’s suit, some random she’d picked up in a bar, even one of his villains. She wondered what moves Doc Oc could pull off with his tentacles, or how big Rhino was under the suit. Maybe it was Morbius and his cold pale flesh…

“MJ? You still with me?” came a voice from below her.

“Quiet. You don’t speak to me,” hissed MJ as she lowered herself onto him, gasping as his member entered her gaping pussy. Peter moaned as she clamped on tight and started riding him.

“Oohhh, god.. MJ.. what are you…?” mumbled the lump of flesh she was fucking.

“Shut up,” growled the bucking beauty. She lashed out at him, slapping him hard across the face, leaving scratch marks of torn material.

“MJ, stop, you’re hurting me!” gasped Peter.

MJ had had enough of his simpering. Her hand shot out, gripping him by the neck and squeezing, her pitch black nails cutting through his skin and drawing blood. The smell was overwhelming. MJ’s hand shot to her mouth, her tongue darting out to taste the red nectar. It was sumptuous, and the meatbag beneath her was full of it. A wide grin formed on her face, revealing a pair of sharp fangs.

Peter struggled beneath her, but she held him down. How was she stronger than Spider-man? MJ didn’t give a fuck, but she liked it. The cut on his neck was still bleeding. MJ clamped her mouth around it and bit down, hard. Peter moaned, she didn’t know whether it was pleasure or pain, and by now she didn’t care either. The animal in her was free. She fed, drinking him in, while still riding his cock, drawing every last gasp of pleasure out of him until he was still and she was sated. MJ arched her back and let out a loud hiss, her tongue circling her lips, savouring every last drop of her lover’s blood.