SpiderMan Porn Story: Ultimate threesome

It’s the little things in life that you have to appreciate. Uncle Ben taught me that. He taught me a lot, a lot about responsibility, a lot about life. One of those lessons was “Sometimes, you have to be irresponsible. It keeps the rest in perspective.”

 

Contradict yourself often, big guy?

 

* * * * *

 

So there we were. Gwen, MJ and me, finally friends again.

 

Gwen back dove onto my bed, ten-mile smile on her face, “And now that I know I’m like- “Oh, now I get it. Now I see why Peter’s such a total flakeball.””

 

Gwen had just discovered I’m Spider-Man and came to terms with the fact that Spider-Man did not kill her father. I just wish she could’ve done it without pointing a gun in my face. And she calls me a flakeball? Still she has a point, “Exactly.”

 

MJ sat on the edge of my bed, a mischievous smile on her relieved face. “He was like this before.”

 

“No before I was a dork… Now I’m mysterious.”

 

“Yeah, whatever.” MJ quipped. I’m sure that to her I’m an open book. You can’t hide much from the girl who sows your tights.

 

For once I lay back and relax, thinking about how lucky I am. I’m alive. MJ loves me. Gwen doesn’t want to kill me anymore. Even Aunt May has been lightening up a little bit.

 

Gwen folds her arms behind her head, talking at the ceiling. “Your such a good guy, Peter. I swear to God. I don’t know how you can possibly put up with half the crap of what you do.”

 

“I need a psychiatrist.”

 

Gwen chuckles a little, “No. I need a psychiatrist.”

 

MJ leaned back, resting her head on my stomach. “I’m fine.”

 

“Yeah.” I had to agree with her. She was fine in every way I could think of. She has those big friendly green eyes, flame red hair and a face that makes angels cry. Not to mention a body that… Ut oh… I’m a fifteen-year-old guy and her heads close to… Think about baseball, Peter.

 

Gwen digs her hands into the pockets of her jeans, “I wasn’t going to shoot you.”

 

Now it was my turn to smirk, “I know.”

 

“How do you know?” There goes Gwen again, trying to be the bad girl.

 

“I have a Spider-Sense.”

 

“You have what?” I guess this kind of stuff is new to Gwen. Explanation time. “I know when I’m, like, in danger. I have a… sense.” That could be the worst explanation ever.

 

Gwen closes her eyes and takes it in stride. “Wow. That’s so cool.”

 

“Yeah. But don’t tell anybody.”

 

Gwen shrugs her shoulders, “I guess it’s been a day for secrets.”

 

MJ reaches over and takes my hand. God I needed that. I still have trouble believing that she’s into me. Score one for the good guys.

 

Gwen pulls something out of her jeans. I don’t really notice. I’m way too much into MJ’s soft little hand in mine. (And trying not to pitch a tent in her ear)

 

It’s the paper crinkling that finally gets my attention. With the angle of how we’re arranged on the bed I’d have to break my neck to look at her. “What’re you doing, Gwen?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

MJ rolls her head over slightly, poking my bone into the zipper of my jeans. Ow. Ow. Ow.  Think unsexy thoughts… beer guts… dog vomit… Hillary Clinton…

 

My attention is drawn away from the pain (thank God) by the sound of a disposable lighter flicking…

 

“Uh… Gwen, what’re you…?” MJ asked rolling her head of my rod (thank you). The sweet aroma hits my nostrils before my brain registers what’s going on.

 

“I’m smoking a joint in Spider-Man’s bedroom.” Gwen can barely contain herself, “That’s so cool.”

 

MJ rolls over again (ouch) and looks up at me, stunned. “You’re what?” we say in unison.

 

“Habla ingles? I’m smoking ganja in Spider-Man’s bedroom and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

 

Okay party’s over. “Put it out, Gwen.”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Now.”

 

“I know your secret identity, Aunt May doesn’t.” Gwen inhales, holding smoke in her lungs for a long moment while I desperately formulate a rebuttal.

 

“What’s Aunt May more likely to believe. Me being Spider-Man or you smoking pot in the house.”

 

Gwen exhales giggling slightly, “May can’t say much about it, Pete. I’m smoking her pot.”

 

“What!”

 

“She keeps it in a cookie tin on top of the fridge.”

 

This was too much to believe. “I don’t believe you, put it out.”

 

“Its there Peter. Think about it for a second. When’s the last time you saw her bake cookies?”

 

“Um…”

 

“And doesn’t she seem in a perpetual good mood?”

 

“I’m not finding this funny Gwen.”

 

 “Doesn’t she take her tea on the porch every night around ten?” Gwen takes a long drag of the joint, rolling the smoke in her mouth.

 

“No way. I can’t believe that.”

 

“Face it dude, Aunt May bakes… but not in the kitchen.” Gwen’s laughter was intoxicating. I wish she would laugh more. She lets the smoke pour out of her nose and mouth. MJ giggles a little her self.

 

Time for a different approach. “Gwen, its illegal.”

 

“No it isn’t…” she replies in a sing-song voice.

 

“Yes it is. I should know, I’m a superhero.”

 

“Its illegal to buy and illegal to sell, but not to use.” Gwen takes another toke for emphasis. “I didn’t buy it, I stole it.”

 

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Gwen.” MJ interjects.

 

“My Dad was a cop… Remember.”

 

“Gwen, it alters your mood and stuff…”

 

Gwen can’t help but laugh. “Peter, don’t you think the gun in your face this morning is a clear indication that I, like, need to calm down?”

 

“Good point.” Betrayal most foul, now MJ is against me. Give me a few seconds to come up with a comeback and…

 

MJ sticks her hand up, “Pass it.”

 

“What?” Now Gwen and me are on the same wavelength.

 

MJ looks at both of us, her mouth hangs open for a few seconds before she finds it in her to speak. “I’ve always wanted to try it. I had a little at that party I went to with Liz, but the cops showed up and totally ruined my high.”

 

“You mean the party where that Geldoff kid was blowing up cars?” I had to ask. MJ dressed up like a hooker that night (an amazingly beautiful hooker) and I always felt there was more to that story than I knew.

 

“Yeah. But…” MJ shuts her eyes tight, like she’s thinking of another place. “The rest of the time they fought like cats n’ dogs. But when they used to smoke up, it was the only time my parents ever got along.” She opens her eyes and looks up at me again. “I just want to know what its like.”

 

I felt the need to say something but I didn’t know what. MJ really knows how to tug at the heartstrings. “You parents smoked pot?”

 

MJ looks at me like I’m the idiot, “Peter, they named me ‘Mary Jane’.”

 

“Point taken.”

 

Gwen sits up, taking the little baggy of weed and lays the makings of another joint out on my nightstand. She takes the spent roach and dumps it into an open soda can.

 

“I was drinking that.”

 

“Who’s stopping you?” Gwen chuckles while rolling the green around in the paper. Licking the side she folds it over and twists. “Have you ever smoked a joint before MJ?”

 

MJ shakes her head ‘no’. The motion sends a good vibration into the depths of my dungarees.

 

“Okay then, I’m gonna help you out red.” Gwen lights the end and takes a little toke to get it started. “Lay your head back, close your eyes and open your mouth. I don’t want you to burn yourself your first time.”

 

MJ has that ‘not very sure’ look on her face but she did as told. Gwen sucks deeply, inhaling a lung full. “Shotgun.” She bleats before leaning over and pressing their lips together, forming an airtight seal. MJ’s green eyes open wide in shock and surprise. Gwen blows the smoke right into Mary Jane’s lungs.

 

Gwen pulls back and shuts MJ’s lips with her fingers. “Hold it in. I’ll tell you when.”

 

I could see the exertion on her face. It looks like MJ was really struggling. I started to think she was gonna pass out.

 

“Breathe.”

 

MJ let the marijuana fumes pour out her mouth and nose, for a long moment she gasped quickly. Eventually she regained enough to say, “That feels pretty cool.”

 

“You’re pretty cool yourself, Mary Jane.” Gwen giggles, “Mary Jane smoking Mary Jane.”

 

“In Spider-Man’s bedroom…” MJ laughed along with her.

 

* * * * *

 

Being the biggest geek in school, I’d never been one to submit to peer-pressure. For the next hour or so they passed joints back and forth, but I didn’t try any. My mind kept flash that there’d be a house fire down the street and I’d be too stoned to swing over there.

 

It was getting mighty cloudy in my room. “My rooms gonna smell like burning leaves (in  Jamaica).”

 

MJ pats me on the hand. “Maybe we should crack a window.”

 

“No way,” Gwen titters uncontrollably while shaking her head, “Your neighbors might call the fire department.” We all had a good laugh at that.

 

 “We’ll spray some Lysol when we’re done.” MJ snorts a few times. Somehow she even made that cute.

 

“Is it hot in here?” Gwen looked at us expectantly.

 

I couldn’t really tell, “I think its just you.”

 

“Thanks Peter. I’m happy you think I’m hot.” Damn it Gwen! Don’t hit on me in front of MJ. We were all just getting along so well.

 

“So I’m not hot enough for you anymore, tiger?”

 

Oh boy, now I’m in trouble. “MJ, your know I think your like… the hottiest hottie ever…” MJ snorts again, giggling at my inability to articulate. What did they put on that stuff?

 

The bed shakes as we hear the pop and rip of a zipper fly being undone.

 

“What are you doing Gwen?”

 

Gwen sings us a response, “Anything I want to…” I bet she could really sing if she wanted to. I heard a ‘whump’. A rather distinctive sound, much like empty blue jeans hitting the floor in a heap. 

 

“Tee hee…” Gwen giggled.

 

MJ sat up and looked at me like I was doing something wrong… Then laughed as gust of smoke burst from her mouth. “Oh my God, Gwen… put your pants on…” MJ was trying to sound serious, but with her major case of the giggles sounded anything but.

 

“Why? I’m really hot.” Gwen strutted into my view, humming the tune to “It’s gettin’ hot in here”. Her jeans were indeed gone. She danced over to my radio in nothing but a black tank top and green panties. I don’t even want to think about it with MJ in the room, but Gwen really has a great figure. She’s not very tall but was build long and lean. She’s got a cute butt and her chest sticks out enticingly in the front. Wrap that up with her straight blonde hair and big hazel eyes, friendly smile and easy swagger and… Oh shit! MJ must be burning up with…

 

I looked over and she just had a dazed little look in her eye. “It is kind of hot in here,” MJ says while taking off her over shirt (one of mine) and kicking away her sandals, leaving her in jeans and a pink t-shirt with a smiley face on it. (I wonder where she gets those things, they look so hokey but on MJ it’s too cute for words). I was just thanking my lucky stars that Aunt May would be at her yoga class till 9.

 

Gwen starts dancing to the music from the Top 40 station. Much to my amazement MJ starts clapping along to the beat. Gwen’s moves get a little more risqué. She gyrates to the intense beat, her long legs moving with it while she cups her breasts while smiling at me. That wasn’t my Spider-Sense tingling.

 

Gwen starts to undulate to the new song that starts playing. “Go Gwen! Go Gwen!” MJ cheers her on. Gwen writhes up against my dresser, rubbing her chest and butt up against it. Damn. I may never do laundry again.

 

Gwen spins to the middle of the room, turning her back to us. MJ giggles uncontrollably as Gwen shakes her booty in MJ’s face. I can’t help but laugh myself. The joke sucked but they were funny.

 

MJ falls sideways in fits. Gwen spies me from the corner of her eye. With a wicked smile she pulls the tank top over and off, tossing it in my face. I let it hang there for a second, until I heard both of them snickering at me. Self-humiliation, the purest form of comedy and surefire laugh at parties.

 

By the time I removed the sweaty black tank, Gwen was fast dancing in her bra and panties. Her dusty blonde hair flew around her as she twists and whirls. Her body was so tight and toned, little Peter ached at the sight of her. She looked at me with those big hazel eyes. I would melt, if half of me wasn’t so stiff.

 

Gwen dances a little closer to us, grinding up against the edge of the bed. Her entire body was covered by a fine sheen of sweat. The way she was looking at me… The way she ground her hips and ran her hands all over her body… It was like she was about to pounce on me at any second. I was gonna explode.

 

Then she stopped. Gwen’s face melted into a look of shock. MJ was slipping a dollar bill into her underwear.

 

MJ cheered shaking a fistful of money, “Come on, Gwen! Work for it!”

 

Wait a minuet, “Hey that’s my money!”

 

“Dude, you can afford it!”

 

“I need to buy a new web-shooter, those suckers cost 80 bucks!”

 

“I’ll pay you back, Peter.” It’s not like I didn’t want to see the Gwen show, but frickin’ Doc Ock busted my web-shooter.

 

“C’mon MJ, gimmie my wallet back!”

 

“Here you go.” She drops the empty wallet on my lap, winks at me and bounces on the bed impatiently (I’m thinking she was more than a little high). “Come on Gwen! Do it!”

 

Gwen was busy trying to stop laughing long enough to catch her breath. “You can’t be serious.”

 

 “Come on, Gwen!” MJ was on the verge of cracking up again. “I’ve got thirty-seven dollars of Peter’s money. Are you gonna go this far and chicken out?”

 

Ooh… Gwen just got deadly serious herself. She’s made it a personal thing to take stuff too far. I’ve never heard of Gwen going back on a challenge. “You want it?” Gwen walked over to the radio and turned it up all the way. “You got it, bitch!”

 

Gwen took to it like a house on fire. She started dancing wildly, her hair flying and goodies jiggling. MJ responded by holding out a dollar bill, which Gwen snatched away with a quick motion.

 

This was too much… “I can’t believe your encouraging her.”

 

MJ just looks at me, smiling. “It wouldn’t be funny if I wasn’t so baked.”

 

Gwen backed away from the bed and started giving us a view of her backside. Not only was her ass nice and firm but she moved it well. Bending over she touched the floor, grabbed her ankles and put her head between her legs. She gave a quirky grin up at us.

 

MJ giggles and waves a dollar in front of her face. Gwen snapped at it with her mouth. It reminded me of a frog trying to swallow a fly. “Gotta work a little harder than that gorgeous.” This was a side of MJ I’d never seen before.

 

Gwen stands upright and does a little ‘Go Daddy’ twirl. MJ kept the dollar close to the floor. “Come and get it baby!”

 

Gwen smirks at me, mirth on her lips and a dirty thought in her eye. She drops to the floor in a split… wow! Damn she’s flexible. Crawling forward on her hands she takes the dollar in her teeth. MJ lets it go, her snorting laugh rolling out uncontrollably. Gwen stands and places the buck with its friend in her panties.

 

MJ starts to wave a five around, “Got to earn it, girlfriend.”

 

Gwen dances in place, facing us with her hands behind her head. My attention was drawn to her chest, her bra barely contained her nice little jugs. I got the feeling that she was getting more endowed by the day. Gwen was a hottie now and she was just gonna get hotter with age.

 

Her pretty face was a mask of desire, problem was she wasn’t looking at me. MJ was still egging her on, “That’s it, Gwen. Work it! Work it!”

 

Gwen’s folds her arms behind her back, popping the clasp open on her bra. She turned away from us, showing her naked back and folding down the straps and pulling her arms free. I couldn’t believe this was happening in my room! MJ waved the five around.

 

Gwen kept her back to us and twirled her bra over her head and slapped her ass like a cowgirl at a rodeo. She reached out behind her for the five-spot, MJ teased it away.

 

“Gonna have to turn around to get it…” mountains of mischief in MJ’s voice.

 

Gwen turns around, dancing with her unfastened bra over her goodies. Leaning over and reaching out with two fingers Gwen got a hold of the fiver, but MJ wasn’t letting go.

 

“Give it up, red.”

 

MJ takes one of the bra straps, “Trade ya…”

 

Gwen lets go and snatches the five away, keeping one hand over her naked chest. MJ laughed out loud, playing with her prize. “Here you go Peter,” she snapped it like a rubber band at my face. I was rolling as well.

 

MJ holds up a ten for the still dancing Gwen to see. “Can’t use your hands…” MJ couldn’t stop with the chuckling snorts, after a few seconds she composed herself enough to finish the stipulation. “…or your teeth. Gotta be creative this time.”

 

Gwen moved with the beat, covering herself by hugging her chest, a comical look of determination on her face. Gyrating with her hips she slowly pulled her arms away. I was so anxious I thought I was gonna cream in my pants.

 

Gwen managed to reveal nothing. She stopped with one tit in each hand, nipples in her palms. She started grooving more lively, jiggling her tits with her hands in time with the beat. Gwen was certainly creative. She struts right up to MJ, a handful in each. MJ holds up the tenner. Gwen places her tits around MJ’s hand and smooshes them together, taking the ten-spot away in her cleavage.

 

MJ claps and lets out a belly laugh. Gwen turns away from us and joins the ten with the rest.

 

MJ looks at me and winks, “All-righty Gwen. I got a twenty with your name on it. But Peter wants to see it all!”

 

I looked at her like she was crazy.

 

Over her shoulder, Gwen looked at her like she was crazy.

 

Snickering MJ waved it around, “Full Monty, baby! You can do it!”

 

Gwen almost falls over laughing, but she returns to the rhythm with a vengeance.  She kept her back to us  as her tight little booty shimmied and shook. The determined grin on her face said it all. Her arms and legs flowed energetically to the intense beat blasting from the boom box.

 

I looked over at MJ. She just stared back and smiled.

 

I looked up at Gwen. The crazy bitch loved it.

 

Gwen collects her cash (my cash) from her panties and crinkles it up into a ball, dropping it to the floor. She glances over her shoulder and gives me a wicked smirk. Hooking her thumbs in the elastic of her panties she leaps into the air, pulling them off in one quick motion…

 

…And crashing to the floor in a heap.

 

We all busted out. The walls shook with raucous laughter. I rolled of the bed and hit the wall. It was so painful but so damn funny. I thought my sides were gonna split. MJ ended up rolling on top of me. We couldn’t help ourselves for a good minuet. It was all too much.

 

Laying behind the bed I couldn’t see where Gwen had landed. I propped MJ up and finally peered over the top of the bed. “Gwen… Are you okay?”

 

All I saw was a hand shoot up into view, holding the green panties aloft like a championship trophy.

 

We fell out all over again. It had to be five minuets before I could see through the tears.

 

I climbed up the side of the bed first, resting my arms and chip on the bedspread. Damn, I was dizzy.

 

Gwen crawled up the other side, taking the same position. Her face was red as a beet, “Yo…” Gwen couldn’t stop snickering. MJ finally sat up clutching her gut.

 

Gwen looks at us with the most bemused look I’ve ever seen. “Yo… I’m butt-ass naked…” Her eyes darted back and forth between us. “Why is that so funny?”

 

We lost it, again.

 

* * * * *

 

By the time I was capable of standing, Gwen had on her panties and the button up shirt that MJ ditched before. She let it hang open in the front showing off her abs and the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. MJ turned the radio down. Thank God, the lack of oxygen in my brain was giving me enough of a headache. I didn’t need Jessica Simpson helping in out.

 

“Okay, I got a case of the munchies. You guys want anything?” Gwen asked, heading for the door.

 

“Sodas?”

 

“Cool.” Gwen left, closing the door behind her.

 

MJ basically jumped in my lap. “Oh my God! That was so funny!”

 

“Yeah, that was pretty good.” I agreed but I didn’t like the show for same reason that she did.

 

“You don’t sound very convinced.”

 

“What? I’m a red-blooded American boy, having a stripper in my bedroom has been one of my fantasies since I started puberty.” That one got a chuckle out of MJ.

 

“No, seriously Peter. What did you think?”

 

“I’m not a dance critic, MJ.”

 

“No. I mean…” Oh boy, she was doing her swallowing and look at the floor thing. That always meant deep thoughts. Finally she looked up at me with her big green eyes, “I mean do you think she’s sexy?”

 

Ut-oh… how do you answer this one and not get in trouble?

 

“Peter, I just want to know if that’s the type of thing your into?”

 

“You mean Gwen or strippers?”

 

“Never mind.” She turns away from me. I hate it when she does this. How the hell am I supposed to read her mind? The spider bite didn’t give me that power.

 

MJ opens the bag of weed, pinching it out onto the rolling paper.

 

“Have you ever done that before?

 

“Nope.”

 

“So how’d you learn.”

 

“I just watched Gwen do it four times. I’m stoned not stupid.” MJ picks up the lighter and sparks up the joint. The sweat pungent odor filled the air again.

 

I was trying to think of something to say. Luckily MJ did it for me.

 

“Shotgun.”

 

“What?” the second I opened my mouth she was on me, pinning me to the bed and forcing her tongue between my lips… well not really forcing… I thought we were kissing but the second I breathed in she blew marijuana smoke into my lungs.

 

I felt like I was gonna choke. Or at least cough. That went away after a few minuets of Mary Jane kissing me. Sometimes I feel like I could kiss her forever.