To Love a Spider, Part 1, Spider-Man, Spider-Man/OFC, Rated NC-17
Title: To Love a Spider, Part 1/?
Author: ring34_ani
Fandom: Spider-Man
Pairing: Spider-Man/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: about 2930
Disclaimers: I do not own Spider-Man or make any money off him.
Notes: Takes place a few years after the movies and after Mary Jane.
Summary: A woman begins an unexpected relationship with Spider-Man.
To Love a Spider
It had been a cold night in November when she’d met him. Well…they hadn’t exactly met…it was more like he saved her. Not from a pickpocket, not from a mugger, not even from the new rapist making the local news. But from someone she knew. Someone she had trusted. She had gone to school with Evan James. Had sat across from him in American History. He’d seemed no different from any of the other boys.
They hadn’t graduated together. Her family had moved to a different school district during 11th Grade. She’d seen him one time at a party for a couple who were getting married. They’d said hello and asked how the other was doing. She’d seen him another time waiting to cross at the light close to the university.
Then Evan had enrolled and they had an advanced English class together on Tuesday evenings. They’d exchanged notes, exchanged a few jokes, drunk sodas out of the machine during class breaks. He was pleasant. Knowledgeable about a lot of things. Interesting to talk to. But she’d had no romantic feelings for him. And had thought he had none for her. She’d had no inkling of the blackness festering in Evan’s heart. She hadn’t known that he’d taken each encounter as some kind of rejection because she had never proclaimed her undying love for him.
Evan’s unexpected attack seemed to stem from another friend picking her up after class. A male friend. They were going to dinner and see a late movie. She didn’t often date and she was excited about the planned evening. She had noticed Evan watching her as she left class, his eyes going over the other man with a speculative look. She’d thought nothing of it.
Two nights later, as she walked home from the small grocery store a block from her apartment, Evan had attacked. At first she’d thought he was playing some kind of a joke on her. Until she saw his eyes. Until she heard his furious words. Bitch! How could you let him touch you? I’ve been there every day for you and you treat me like I’m nothing. You’re mine! Not his! I’ll punish you, make you pay, you teasing bitch. He shook her hard, making her teeth almost rattle and her head snap on her neck.
She tried to run but he’d held her tight. She tried to grab the phone in her bag but he snatched it away, throwing the purse viciously into the darker alleyway that opened beside them. She’d screamed but knew by the time someone was brave enough to call for help, it would be too late for her. She’d kicked and scratched and bit. She’d hurt him but he was high off the mad adrenaline racing through his body.
And then someone had been standing there, watching. Friend or another enemy? Evan had stilled and she’d jerked away from him, falling against the dirty wall of an apartment building. A car passed down the street, its lights illuminating the blue and scarlet colors of the suit the newcomer was wearing.
She’d seen him on the news shows, quick glimpses the cameras had caught. She’d seen the better photos in the newspapers, accompanying speculations about his origins and intentions. But there was no preparation for finally seeing him in person. He was quiet, menacing. Evan’s body was frozen but his eyes showed the wild indecision of whether he should run or attempt to snatch his prize again.
She’d inched slowly down the wall, closer in the direction of the more lighted part of the street, trying not to draw Evan’s attention again until she was a safer distance from him. Then her attacker broke and ran, his hands reaching out towards her as if she would simply grab them and allow herself to be pulled along with him. Even as she had prepared herself for another fight, the Spider-Man had instantly come to life, moving so quickly her eyes could not follow.
In seconds Evan lay whimpering on the ground, his face bloody and dirty. A shiny web-like material restrained his hands and feet painfully. Looking at him she found no pity, he deserved none. Then the mask had turned to her and a raspy, disguised voice had given her instructions to a nearby payphone to call for 911.
The last she saw of him that night, he was standing over Evan, his head tilted and looking down at him. She didn’t need to see his face to know what expression was there. The police had come, finding Evan’s body still wrapped tightly but no rescuer in sight. They weren’t surprised. This was one incident in many. There had been questions and bad coffee and reporters.
A few months later there had been a short display before a judge, mad, enraged screams issuing from Evan’s mouth when he’d seen her there, and he had been locked away. It had been two months after the trial when she’d seen Spider-Man again.
She’d taken a semester off from the university when she’d been promoted in the investigative business she worked for. Now, instead of an all-around errand girl, she had a little cubbyhole she could call her own and a regular stack of leads in various cases to check up on. Mostly calling on the phone. Occasional visits to the courthouse and other legal establishments. She liked it. Her mind embraced the routine, the feeling of accomplishing something in the over-all “big picture.”
She still dated occassionally, determined not to let what happened with Evan mar anything in her life. But she hadn’t really connected with anyone. A serious relationship seemed so far down the road for her that she couldn’t even imagining it happening. And she wasn’t against just having a little fun. But as yet no one had appealed to her for that either.
When everyone at work was invited to a party to promote a better relationship between investigative offices, law firms, and various city officials, she had started not to go. Her best friend, who happened to live next door to her in the apartment building, had encouraged her to go. So there she was, in a dress and heels that had been a little too expensive for her salary, making nice with a room full of up-and-coming people…and she was bored out of her mind.
She had wandered out onto one of the balconys with her third drink to look at the city lights. The city was beautiful at night, all the dirt and filth and human suffering covered up by the dark. Nothing showing but the lights of buildings and the traffic below, twinkling and winking with promises. She found a secluded spot behind a large group of decorative plants and settled in. She could hear the sounds of the traffic below and the murmur of voices and music from inside.
A man walked out further down from her and she shrank back a little further, not wanting to have to make small talk with him. He paused, waiting. She watched him curiously. He kept looking furtively up into the sky and then back around behind him, all the while steadily folding and unfolding a piece of paper in his hands. Then there was movement and someone at the railing when there had seemed to be no one there before. She didn’t have to see him clearly to know who he was. She just knew.
“I thought you weren’t coming! It’s dangerous for us to meet here, I should never have agreed to it,” the man said, crumpling the paper in his hands. Spider-Man grabbed the paper from the man’s hands, glancing over it before handing it back. “Calm down. You’ve already drawn attention to yourself.” The red webbed face turned in her direction, light glinting on the silvery eyes of the mask. He knows I’m here! She thought, feeling the beat of her heart quicken. “What do you mean? Has someone seen us? I’ll lose my job. I can’t help you any more!”
The man stumbled backward away from the still masked figure and she could see the sheen of sweat on his face. Spider-Man regarded him silently for a few moments, then nodded. “Alright. Go on back inside.” The man wasted no time getting back through the door, slamming it behind him, but she wondered at the impression his guilty eyes and perspiring face would make on anyone who was watching.
And then she was alone with the man in the red and blue suit. Man? Definitely, despite what a female newswriter had tried to imply last week in her column in a not so respectible newspaper. They watched each other for a minute or two and then he moved closer, walking gracefully, to the darker corner where she stood. She held her ground, not really afraid but uneasy. She wondered briefly if he could see in the dark. He looked at her and finally said, “I know you.” She took a deep breath, steadied her nerves. “Yes. You helped me one time.” He nodded briefly. She could feel his eyes on her and wondered what he was thinking.
Then he asked, “Is he locked up?” She sighed. “Yes. For a long time. He made it obvious by his actions in the courtroom how dangerous he is.” He nodded his head again. “Good. Sometimes it doesn’t happen that way when it gets to the court.” She heard a note of something in his voice, anger, maybe a touch of sadness.
He stepped a little closer and she felt a flutter of something race through her body. She felt…anticipation. He stood there, still and without a sound. She realized he was waiting for some kind of OK from her. Three more quick heartbeats and she reached out to touch the large spider molded across his chest. He lifted his chin slightly but kept the rest of his body still as she traced the spider. The suit felt odd beneath her fingers, somehow rough and slick at the same time. He was warm and she wondered why that surprised her. She reached out her other hand to join the first. What was she doing! She didn’t know who this man was. She didn’t know what he was. But even as her mind tried to brake whatever it was her body was telling her to do, she felt him move, hard muscle sliding beneath her hands.
Stepping closer, he put his hands low on either side of her waist right above where her hips flared out. She could feel the odd texture of his gloves through her thin evening gown. She could feel heat coming off him now, no longer just warm but hot. He seemed to come to an abupt decision and pulled her all the way to him, hands sliding lower and molding her to his body. Her heart was beating so fast, her breathing wouldn’t work right. “What are you doing?” she asked, not even recognizing her own voice. He considered her question for a moment and then said, “I wanted to know how you felt…against me.” His voice was hoarse and this time she didn’t think it was from being disguised. This is crazy! Insane!
She reached up with both hands and pulled his head closer to hers. His mouth was completely covered by the fabric of the mask. He turned his head, slowly nuzzling her cheek and then lower under her jaw. Her eyes closed involuntarily, her legs feeling weak. As she shifted, she could feel the damp silk of her panties clinging to her. His hands slid down abruptly and he was lifting her and turning at the same time to sit her on the wide balcony.
He stepped between her legs, gently nudging them apart and she pulled her dress up so it wouldn’t tear. One hand held her firmly around her lower back and the other reached between them to run caressingly up her left thigh. She jumped slightly at the strange texture of the gloves on her bare skin. Then his fingers were curling under her panties, tugging until they slid down over her trembling legs. He worked them over her shoes and then tossed them aside.
The rough concrete of the balcony was scraping her bottom. He seemed to realize this and carefully lifted her closer to him instead of pulling. Her legs lifted up and around his back. He rubbed against her and she knew the wetness between her legs must be soaking the front of his suit but he didn’t seem to care. Then he was shifting, his hand again reaching between them and he was pulling at his own clothes so that this time when he stepped closer to her his bare cock fit intimately against her. She gasped and her arms and legs tightened around him. He paused for a few seconds, seeming to enjoy the wet heat of her against his skin. Then his hips moved, positioning just right, and the blunt, thick head pushed slowly into her. She was still tight and he paused for a minute to let her get used to him. She whimpered against him, feeling too full and at the same time, desperately wanting him deeper.
Finally, he began to move, thrusting slowly and shallowly at first but gradually increasing his speed and depth. Her blood was pounding and she could hear him gasping, could hear his murmurs, “So tight. So sweet.” She moved her head, rubbing her lips across the mask until she could feel his underneath. He was thrusting frantically now, she tried to match his movements but he held her hips too firmly. He slammed all the way in and rubbed hard against her. Her orgasm exploded through her, her cries muffled against his cloth-covered mouth. Another thrust of his hips and she felt his cock jerk and throb inside her, felt the hot wetness coat the inside of her. They stayed locked together for an undetermined amount of time. She knew if he were to put her down now she would not be able to stand.
Then a set of the balcony doors opened, spilling light and voices outside. While no one walked out, they both became immediately aware of the vulnerableness of their position. He quickly turned them away from the balcony and into the deeper darkness. He had pulled out of her and her legs slid slowly to the floor. She was shaking, holding onto him for balance and he still held her lightly, his breath already steadying.
She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do now. Her head was lowered, staring at the spider she could barely see. She felt his hands tighten and he lowered his head as if trying to see into her downcast eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded. “Are you sorry?” This time his voice held a different note, one of uncertainty, of worry. She looked up at him then and her voice was strong as she told him, “No. No I’m not sorry.” She felt the sudden tension seeping out of him and wondered suddenly if he was smiling, beneath the mask. She thought maybe he was.
He leaned towards her, touching his forehead to hers. “I have to go,” he whispered. “I know,” she whispered back. He took his hands off her and she felt him adjusting his clothes again. His scent was stronger now. Sex and a little sweat and the lingering traces of soap and aftershave he must have used earlier in the day. She liked the way he smelled, she decided. He cupped her cheek in his hand and then he was gone, moving away and leaping over the balcony in one fluid movement. She caught her breath, quickly moving to the edge. But there was nothing to see. He was gone.
She struggled with a sudden surge of lonliness, wanting him back. She needed to get home, she decided. She adjusted her dress, making sure nothing showed and glad that the dark blue material would probably hide any stains or wet spots. Her long hair she could do nothing about, just run her fingers through it and hope it didn’t look too mussed or her makeup too smeared.
She started to take a step toward the open doors when she realized she was still bare underneath the dress. She turned back, searching frantically over the floor and even in the plants for the lacy white panties Spider-Man had stripped off her and thrown to the side. They must have gone over the balcony she finally decided. No one would know anyway. She’d make her way quietly through the crowd, retrieve her purse, and get herself home.
* * * * *
Two buildings over Peter Parker perched on the edge of a roof. He pulled the red mask off his head to let the cool air blow across over his flushed cheeks. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done. Fucked a girl he didn’t even know. Didn’t even know her name. He sat still, remembering her soft skin and beautiful green eyes. He reached for the silk panties he’d grabbed on his way over the balcony. He looked at them and an amused look glowed in his blue eyes. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out who she was. Where she lived.
To be continued…
Author: ring34_ani
Fandom: Spider-Man
Pairing: Spider-Man/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: about 2930
Disclaimers: I do not own Spider-Man or make any money off him.
Notes: Takes place a few years after the movies and after Mary Jane.
Summary: A woman begins an unexpected relationship with Spider-Man.
To Love a Spider
It had been a cold night in November when she’d met him. Well…they hadn’t exactly met…it was more like he saved her. Not from a pickpocket, not from a mugger, not even from the new rapist making the local news. But from someone she knew. Someone she had trusted. She had gone to school with Evan James. Had sat across from him in American History. He’d seemed no different from any of the other boys.
They hadn’t graduated together. Her family had moved to a different school district during 11th Grade. She’d seen him one time at a party for a couple who were getting married. They’d said hello and asked how the other was doing. She’d seen him another time waiting to cross at the light close to the university.
Then Evan had enrolled and they had an advanced English class together on Tuesday evenings. They’d exchanged notes, exchanged a few jokes, drunk sodas out of the machine during class breaks. He was pleasant. Knowledgeable about a lot of things. Interesting to talk to. But she’d had no romantic feelings for him. And had thought he had none for her. She’d had no inkling of the blackness festering in Evan’s heart. She hadn’t known that he’d taken each encounter as some kind of rejection because she had never proclaimed her undying love for him.
Evan’s unexpected attack seemed to stem from another friend picking her up after class. A male friend. They were going to dinner and see a late movie. She didn’t often date and she was excited about the planned evening. She had noticed Evan watching her as she left class, his eyes going over the other man with a speculative look. She’d thought nothing of it.
Two nights later, as she walked home from the small grocery store a block from her apartment, Evan had attacked. At first she’d thought he was playing some kind of a joke on her. Until she saw his eyes. Until she heard his furious words. Bitch! How could you let him touch you? I’ve been there every day for you and you treat me like I’m nothing. You’re mine! Not his! I’ll punish you, make you pay, you teasing bitch. He shook her hard, making her teeth almost rattle and her head snap on her neck.
She tried to run but he’d held her tight. She tried to grab the phone in her bag but he snatched it away, throwing the purse viciously into the darker alleyway that opened beside them. She’d screamed but knew by the time someone was brave enough to call for help, it would be too late for her. She’d kicked and scratched and bit. She’d hurt him but he was high off the mad adrenaline racing through his body.
And then someone had been standing there, watching. Friend or another enemy? Evan had stilled and she’d jerked away from him, falling against the dirty wall of an apartment building. A car passed down the street, its lights illuminating the blue and scarlet colors of the suit the newcomer was wearing.
She’d seen him on the news shows, quick glimpses the cameras had caught. She’d seen the better photos in the newspapers, accompanying speculations about his origins and intentions. But there was no preparation for finally seeing him in person. He was quiet, menacing. Evan’s body was frozen but his eyes showed the wild indecision of whether he should run or attempt to snatch his prize again.
She’d inched slowly down the wall, closer in the direction of the more lighted part of the street, trying not to draw Evan’s attention again until she was a safer distance from him. Then her attacker broke and ran, his hands reaching out towards her as if she would simply grab them and allow herself to be pulled along with him. Even as she had prepared herself for another fight, the Spider-Man had instantly come to life, moving so quickly her eyes could not follow.
In seconds Evan lay whimpering on the ground, his face bloody and dirty. A shiny web-like material restrained his hands and feet painfully. Looking at him she found no pity, he deserved none. Then the mask had turned to her and a raspy, disguised voice had given her instructions to a nearby payphone to call for 911.
The last she saw of him that night, he was standing over Evan, his head tilted and looking down at him. She didn’t need to see his face to know what expression was there. The police had come, finding Evan’s body still wrapped tightly but no rescuer in sight. They weren’t surprised. This was one incident in many. There had been questions and bad coffee and reporters.
A few months later there had been a short display before a judge, mad, enraged screams issuing from Evan’s mouth when he’d seen her there, and he had been locked away. It had been two months after the trial when she’d seen Spider-Man again.
She’d taken a semester off from the university when she’d been promoted in the investigative business she worked for. Now, instead of an all-around errand girl, she had a little cubbyhole she could call her own and a regular stack of leads in various cases to check up on. Mostly calling on the phone. Occasional visits to the courthouse and other legal establishments. She liked it. Her mind embraced the routine, the feeling of accomplishing something in the over-all “big picture.”
She still dated occassionally, determined not to let what happened with Evan mar anything in her life. But she hadn’t really connected with anyone. A serious relationship seemed so far down the road for her that she couldn’t even imagining it happening. And she wasn’t against just having a little fun. But as yet no one had appealed to her for that either.
When everyone at work was invited to a party to promote a better relationship between investigative offices, law firms, and various city officials, she had started not to go. Her best friend, who happened to live next door to her in the apartment building, had encouraged her to go. So there she was, in a dress and heels that had been a little too expensive for her salary, making nice with a room full of up-and-coming people…and she was bored out of her mind.
She had wandered out onto one of the balconys with her third drink to look at the city lights. The city was beautiful at night, all the dirt and filth and human suffering covered up by the dark. Nothing showing but the lights of buildings and the traffic below, twinkling and winking with promises. She found a secluded spot behind a large group of decorative plants and settled in. She could hear the sounds of the traffic below and the murmur of voices and music from inside.
A man walked out further down from her and she shrank back a little further, not wanting to have to make small talk with him. He paused, waiting. She watched him curiously. He kept looking furtively up into the sky and then back around behind him, all the while steadily folding and unfolding a piece of paper in his hands. Then there was movement and someone at the railing when there had seemed to be no one there before. She didn’t have to see him clearly to know who he was. She just knew.
“I thought you weren’t coming! It’s dangerous for us to meet here, I should never have agreed to it,” the man said, crumpling the paper in his hands. Spider-Man grabbed the paper from the man’s hands, glancing over it before handing it back. “Calm down. You’ve already drawn attention to yourself.” The red webbed face turned in her direction, light glinting on the silvery eyes of the mask. He knows I’m here! She thought, feeling the beat of her heart quicken. “What do you mean? Has someone seen us? I’ll lose my job. I can’t help you any more!”
The man stumbled backward away from the still masked figure and she could see the sheen of sweat on his face. Spider-Man regarded him silently for a few moments, then nodded. “Alright. Go on back inside.” The man wasted no time getting back through the door, slamming it behind him, but she wondered at the impression his guilty eyes and perspiring face would make on anyone who was watching.
And then she was alone with the man in the red and blue suit. Man? Definitely, despite what a female newswriter had tried to imply last week in her column in a not so respectible newspaper. They watched each other for a minute or two and then he moved closer, walking gracefully, to the darker corner where she stood. She held her ground, not really afraid but uneasy. She wondered briefly if he could see in the dark. He looked at her and finally said, “I know you.” She took a deep breath, steadied her nerves. “Yes. You helped me one time.” He nodded briefly. She could feel his eyes on her and wondered what he was thinking.
Then he asked, “Is he locked up?” She sighed. “Yes. For a long time. He made it obvious by his actions in the courtroom how dangerous he is.” He nodded his head again. “Good. Sometimes it doesn’t happen that way when it gets to the court.” She heard a note of something in his voice, anger, maybe a touch of sadness.
He stepped a little closer and she felt a flutter of something race through her body. She felt…anticipation. He stood there, still and without a sound. She realized he was waiting for some kind of OK from her. Three more quick heartbeats and she reached out to touch the large spider molded across his chest. He lifted his chin slightly but kept the rest of his body still as she traced the spider. The suit felt odd beneath her fingers, somehow rough and slick at the same time. He was warm and she wondered why that surprised her. She reached out her other hand to join the first. What was she doing! She didn’t know who this man was. She didn’t know what he was. But even as her mind tried to brake whatever it was her body was telling her to do, she felt him move, hard muscle sliding beneath her hands.
Stepping closer, he put his hands low on either side of her waist right above where her hips flared out. She could feel the odd texture of his gloves through her thin evening gown. She could feel heat coming off him now, no longer just warm but hot. He seemed to come to an abupt decision and pulled her all the way to him, hands sliding lower and molding her to his body. Her heart was beating so fast, her breathing wouldn’t work right. “What are you doing?” she asked, not even recognizing her own voice. He considered her question for a moment and then said, “I wanted to know how you felt…against me.” His voice was hoarse and this time she didn’t think it was from being disguised. This is crazy! Insane!
She reached up with both hands and pulled his head closer to hers. His mouth was completely covered by the fabric of the mask. He turned his head, slowly nuzzling her cheek and then lower under her jaw. Her eyes closed involuntarily, her legs feeling weak. As she shifted, she could feel the damp silk of her panties clinging to her. His hands slid down abruptly and he was lifting her and turning at the same time to sit her on the wide balcony.
He stepped between her legs, gently nudging them apart and she pulled her dress up so it wouldn’t tear. One hand held her firmly around her lower back and the other reached between them to run caressingly up her left thigh. She jumped slightly at the strange texture of the gloves on her bare skin. Then his fingers were curling under her panties, tugging until they slid down over her trembling legs. He worked them over her shoes and then tossed them aside.
The rough concrete of the balcony was scraping her bottom. He seemed to realize this and carefully lifted her closer to him instead of pulling. Her legs lifted up and around his back. He rubbed against her and she knew the wetness between her legs must be soaking the front of his suit but he didn’t seem to care. Then he was shifting, his hand again reaching between them and he was pulling at his own clothes so that this time when he stepped closer to her his bare cock fit intimately against her. She gasped and her arms and legs tightened around him. He paused for a few seconds, seeming to enjoy the wet heat of her against his skin. Then his hips moved, positioning just right, and the blunt, thick head pushed slowly into her. She was still tight and he paused for a minute to let her get used to him. She whimpered against him, feeling too full and at the same time, desperately wanting him deeper.
Finally, he began to move, thrusting slowly and shallowly at first but gradually increasing his speed and depth. Her blood was pounding and she could hear him gasping, could hear his murmurs, “So tight. So sweet.” She moved her head, rubbing her lips across the mask until she could feel his underneath. He was thrusting frantically now, she tried to match his movements but he held her hips too firmly. He slammed all the way in and rubbed hard against her. Her orgasm exploded through her, her cries muffled against his cloth-covered mouth. Another thrust of his hips and she felt his cock jerk and throb inside her, felt the hot wetness coat the inside of her. They stayed locked together for an undetermined amount of time. She knew if he were to put her down now she would not be able to stand.
Then a set of the balcony doors opened, spilling light and voices outside. While no one walked out, they both became immediately aware of the vulnerableness of their position. He quickly turned them away from the balcony and into the deeper darkness. He had pulled out of her and her legs slid slowly to the floor. She was shaking, holding onto him for balance and he still held her lightly, his breath already steadying.
She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do now. Her head was lowered, staring at the spider she could barely see. She felt his hands tighten and he lowered his head as if trying to see into her downcast eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded. “Are you sorry?” This time his voice held a different note, one of uncertainty, of worry. She looked up at him then and her voice was strong as she told him, “No. No I’m not sorry.” She felt the sudden tension seeping out of him and wondered suddenly if he was smiling, beneath the mask. She thought maybe he was.
He leaned towards her, touching his forehead to hers. “I have to go,” he whispered. “I know,” she whispered back. He took his hands off her and she felt him adjusting his clothes again. His scent was stronger now. Sex and a little sweat and the lingering traces of soap and aftershave he must have used earlier in the day. She liked the way he smelled, she decided. He cupped her cheek in his hand and then he was gone, moving away and leaping over the balcony in one fluid movement. She caught her breath, quickly moving to the edge. But there was nothing to see. He was gone.
She struggled with a sudden surge of lonliness, wanting him back. She needed to get home, she decided. She adjusted her dress, making sure nothing showed and glad that the dark blue material would probably hide any stains or wet spots. Her long hair she could do nothing about, just run her fingers through it and hope it didn’t look too mussed or her makeup too smeared.
She started to take a step toward the open doors when she realized she was still bare underneath the dress. She turned back, searching frantically over the floor and even in the plants for the lacy white panties Spider-Man had stripped off her and thrown to the side. They must have gone over the balcony she finally decided. No one would know anyway. She’d make her way quietly through the crowd, retrieve her purse, and get herself home.
* * * * *
Two buildings over Peter Parker perched on the edge of a roof. He pulled the red mask off his head to let the cool air blow across over his flushed cheeks. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done. Fucked a girl he didn’t even know. Didn’t even know her name. He sat still, remembering her soft skin and beautiful green eyes. He reached for the silk panties he’d grabbed on his way over the balcony. He looked at them and an amused look glowed in his blue eyes. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out who she was. Where she lived.
To be continued…