Spider-Man reacts

It seemed like only a second ago that he'd been a fly on the wall, his fingers clinging to the outside of the building, looking in on Mary Jane. Her torn blue jeans were down around her ankles, her long legs bent at the knees, as her fingers frantically worked away. He felt himself grow even harder, wishing he could enter her friendly neighborhood and sling his webs, as he looked down at her white tee-shirt, riding up on her tanned stomach, revealing abs as ripped as her jeans. On the top of the shirt was a picture of the spider symbol, and he imagined his face resting on those pneumatic breasts of hers; he could see the outline of her nipples against the tight material.

He moved from the wall to the window, surprised it wasn't completely steamed up by the goings-on inside, and stared in closer, all of his eyes on stalks, as her euphoria escalated. Soon she'd be climaxing, then no doubt relaxing by smoking a doobie - Mary Jane by name, Mary Jane by nature - but for now she was in the throes of ecstasy. Her toes curled, her freckled nose crunched up, as her mouth opened and he lip-read the words she was moaning: "Peter, oh, Peter. oh oh oooooh..."

"PETER!" she yelled, her big eyes now staring into his mask's even bigger eyes. She'd spotted him. For a second, he almost lost his grip on the window, as his face went as red as his mask.

As she yanked up her jeans, and marched towards the window, Peter wondered whether to stay or run. What he really needed now was a distraction. Where was a super-villain when you needed one?