Really, What Now?

"Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does whatever a spider can..." an alarm starts to sing. And the hangover hits you hard. You can barley sit up straight and when you realize where you are, you could care less. Somehow or someone brought you to your bed, probably when you passed out. Your so into your hangover you don't even notice the red-locks of hair that came in went into your vision.

You pull the covers right off of you and will your legs over onto the side of the bed. Your feet's first interaction with the floor is the cold. It sends shockwaves throughout your entire body and moves you an inch closer to being awake.

You notice your bare legs and brush it off, "Probably got hot and took off in my sleep."

You walk into the living room and notice the cleanliness. It forces you to scratch your head and you notice the volume of your hair, "I need a haircut."

The cleanliness and long hair don't seem to raising any alarms at this point. You don't even seem to notice that all of this furniture isn't yours and it's not even the right layout for your apartment. In fact this isn't even your apartment at all.

You walk into the kitchen and open the fridge, nothing appeals to you. Then it hits you right in the head, literally, as you miscalculate the distance from your head to the fridge's door. You hit it hard and fall right down on your ass, but the fall isn't bony, it's more cushioned.

Your hand goes to your head to place pressure on it. "Ow, fuck me," you say in pain. The position of your head is facing downward and what catches your eye explains all the little mysteries.

Black panties, not boxers, adorn your bottom half. Your eyes go wide and the energy of your future coffee strikes you before you even made it existent.

"What's going on!?" you ask aloud. Pushing yourself up, you peer into the stainless steel fridge to see the reflection of super-girlfriend Mary Jane Watson staring back. The red hair comes back into your vision and you grab at it. Pulling and fiddling just to reinforce the weird nightmare that's happening.

To fully see if this is a nightmare you place one hand on the fridge and the other on the breast you see in the reflection. You squeeze generously and a loud moan escapes your lips.

"I think it's pretty real," someone says behind.

Mary Jane's face turns red and you quickly hide what you where doing. Hoping that the person behind you has all the answers to your current nightmare.