For Sci and their ask-spiderpool blog that I absolutely adore. It was mentioned that Felicia was the one who introduced Peter to "butt stuff," so here's Peter Parker getting pegged for the first time. Tried to keep it as in line with Sci's blog timeline as possible. (Can be read without reading the ask-spiderpool blog, tho I do recommend the blog because it's awesome) 

Enjoy!

"Relax,"

"I am relaxed," Peter argued, tightening his shoulders. Behind him, Felicia sighed and dug her fingers into the meat of his back, rubbing hard at the knots tangled there and pulling a pleased noise from Peter's throat that was only dimmed by the nervousness in his belly.

Her presence loomed over him like a warm shadow and a strand of curling white hair tickled his neck as she leaned down to point out, "You're not relaxing."

He wanted to argue that he was but that would be a lie, and Felicia had a habit of calling him out on his bullshit, which wasn't appreciated, especially right now. So instead of digging himself a grave, he let out the breath he was holding captive in his nose and hung his head, scowling at the pillows, "I'm trying, okay. This isn't exactly...familiar to me..."

"It might help if you stopped strangling the headboard."

Peter immediately released the bars and sure enough, there were indents in the metal in the exact shape of his fingers. He blew out a hard breath, pretending it didn't sound as shaky as it did. It would be a while before he could replace the headboard, if at all.

He refrained a snort. Who was he kidding, he wasn't going to replace the headboard. If MJ or Gwen asked about it, he's confident he can come up with a ridiculous excuse that will land him in the doghouse with both of them. Not that he was in the house at all. He was out in the yard, scratching at the door, wanting to be let in.

Felicia focused his attention on more important things as she ran her fingers up and down his back, the tips of her pointed nails eliciting tiny zips from the spandex that made him shiver. "If you're not up for this Spider, that's fine. We can try another time."

Tempting. So very tempting. But Parker's weren't quitters. If there was one thing he learned from his Uncle Ben, it was to keep his word. He squeezed his eyes shut, "No. No, now is fine. I said I would, so I will." He nodded, trying to convince himself more than anyone else, "I can do this."

"Uh-huh. Are you sure?"

She knew just how to push all his buttons, didn't she. That hint of a challenge in her tone that had the beast inside him looking up, eager to prove itself. She did the same thing on patrols when she wanted to make things "more interesting," - her words, not his. Patrols got plenty interesting if the right villain came along. He knew she'd let him slide if he asked. Felicia liked to push, prod, tease and challenge, but she backed off when it entered uncomfortable territories.

The only downside to that would be her teasing. He'd endured enough of it on patrol for the past week, and after all his chest-puffing, it would only dial-up if he didn't follow through.

"Some people just can't handle taking it up the ass," she'd said on patrol, casually, breezily, with her beautiful lips sharpened in a smirk that made his internal beast squint. "It's okay, Spider. Don't feel bad."

The way she could tell him not to feel bad and still make him feel bad. He'd brushed it off initially, but it stuck in his head afterward, picking at his resolve slowly. Piece by piece. It's true, he's never "taken it up the ass" before, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it. He's just never had the opportunity. It's never been brought up before. He juggled his comfort and pride, one-half content to stay in his familiar bubble and the other wanting to prove her wrong.

What stopped him was the unease squirming in his belly. He'd never explored back there before. Never thought he'd need to. In all of his relationships so far, he was the one sticking things into other things, and the concept that he could be on the receiving end was like getting a pitcher of water to the face. Shocking, cold, and unexpected, but something he should've seen coming.

Of course, he knewmen could get fucked. He wasn't that much of a prude. He'd just never considered it happening to him.

So, like an idiot, he left it up to chance. Honestly, that was on him because he should've known how it was going to turn out. His luck was the worst. They came across a group of gunrunners smuggling weapons and drugs through the harbor, which gave him the ideal opportunity to set himself up for failure.

"How about this," he'd said, leaning against one of the giant cranes used to load cargo ships, confident, and stupidly, stupidly cocky, "If you can take out as many of those guys as me, without casualties or excessive harm, I'll 'take it up the ass,'"

That got her full and undivided attention.

"Oh?" she'd said, so casual and oh-so coy Peter should've known this wouldn't end in his favor. She sauntered closer, tapping a single clawed finger on his collarbone, "You're saying if I take out more of those smugglers than you, you'll let me take your virginity" her finger trailed down his chest, around his torso, and arrived at his ass, which was squeezed generously.

And yeah, maybe Peter shouldn't be making significant choices while someone had their hands on his butt, but just because he was a science whiz didn't mean he was smart.

"I'm not a virgin," was what he said as Cat leaned forward, so close they were chest to chest, and that wasn't helping his thought process either.

"You're an anal virgin, sweetheart."

"Cat."

"Yeah, yeah, but that's the deal, right?"

Peter, being the idiot he was, nodded.

"You promise?" Because Cat was smarter than him and knew how to make him keep his word. And at this point, the gunrunners were loading up and heading out, and they needed to get going soon, and Peter's blood was beginning to go directions it shouldn't be while gearing up for a fight.

"Yes, I promise."

She'd smirked, both hands coming up to cup his face like she was going to give him a tender kiss. That should've been a red flag. Instead, she grabbed his mask and twisted it around so it obscured his vision.

"You got yourself a deal," she laughed, voice already fading away as she followed the vans. "Keep that ass nice and tight for me, Swinger."

Peter cursed, scrambling to straighten his mask, and swung after her.

And, well, now here he was, back at his apartment on all fours. There's a strap-on and a bottle of lube lying next to his leg that he deliberately isn't looking at - they'd detoured to her place to grab it, but ultimately decided to go to Peter's apartment. Something about keeping him in a familiar environment, which he didn't want to admit was appreciated. This whole situation was very unfamiliar and it was nice to have something known to grasp onto.

But that still left him here, perched on his bed, nerves squirming in his belly like ravenous worms. Him and his big mouth, and his stupid pride that couldn't just let Cat's teasing go. He had to prove he wasn't a pearl-clutching prude who didn't want to stray out of the norm. He couldn't just ignore the challenge and be on his merry way. He braced himself on the bed so he didn't grab the headboard again, wanting to stuff his face into the ratty pillow, but with Felicia's hands around his hips that would leave his ass in the air like an open invitation.

"Aww, what's that about," Felicia cooed, giving his bottom a firm squeeze when she noticed his reddened face, "Embarrassed?"

Peter grumbled incoherently, resisting the urge to pull his mask down. It was only curled up to his nose, leaving his lips and chin exposed, per his request. Felicia wanted it covering his face completely, but if he was getting fucked in the ass tonight, he wanted to be able to breathe properly. It was too tempting to let himself asphyxiate and get out of his promise via medical emergency. Now though, maybe he should just suffer through it. He heard breath-play was sexy in the bedroom.

Felicia was still kneading his rear, which felt nice, but with each minute he was on all fours, waiting to be penetrated, his anxiety rose a little higher. Like a rising waterline with his foot chained to the bottom. Drowning was imminent.

"Are we going to do this or not?" He finally snapped, definitely too sharp, as he braced himself, "I'm ready."

Felicia sighed and let his ass go, drawing away, "Look, Spider, I'm not doing something you don't want to do. It's fine. Maybe some other time." The bed dipped as she got up, and when Peter looked over his shoulder, she was heading towards the window. He quickly sat up.

"No. No, it's fine, I'm just," he hesitated, running a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, unable to meet her eyes. "I've never done this before. It's very...new to me..."

She studied him for a moment and whatever she saw at least had her walking back to him, one knee coming onto the bed. Her hands curled around his sides, finding grip in his costume and pulling him forward so she could plant a soft kiss on his lips. Probably one of the softest kisses she's ever given him in all their time together. She's usually so rough and dirty about it, Peter couldn't help but sink into it.

"We'll take it slow," she said against his lips when they parted, "I promise it'll be good."

Peter hesitated again, but only for a split second, before nodding. "Kay...yeah," he returned to his previous position, "Yeah. Sounds like a plan."

The mattress dipped as she followed him, but instead of tugging down his pants, or putting on the strap-on like he expected, she kissed his lower back. Another gentle kiss. Two in one night, what a deal! Her lips traveled up the ladder of his spine and she placed another kiss between his shoulder blades.

"Do you want me to take-"

"No, leave your shirt on," she said, "And your mask. We're in costumes tonight, hero. I get Spider-Man all to myself, and I intend to collect."

He didn't want to admit just how much that made him shiver.

Her lips continued their journey upward, nimble hands finding all the nooks and crannies that sprouted gooseflesh over his skin, making him tingle pleasantly. One hand traveled under his arm and spread over his chest, brushing one of his nipples, the other went downward and palmed his groin. Peter gasped, and then groaned, arching a little as her lips reached the back of his neck. Her hands worked his front for a while, rubbing over his nipples, pinching them through the spandex, while the other hand massaged his cock until it was standing at attention and straining against the barrier. Suddenly, he wished she had pulled his pants down.

"Hmm, that's what I like to see," she said between kisses to his shoulder, and Peter hummed in mindless agreement, losing himself in the dueling sensations. Then, like a true temptress, she withdrew both hands and pulled away. Before Peter had the opportunity to miss the contact, her fingers curled into the hem of his pants and pulled down, exposing his bare ass to the air. She made sure his erection was free too, thank goodness, and pulled the spandex down to his knees. She didn't take them completely off, he noticed.

He supposed she meant what she said about staying in costume.

The thought of being embarrassed crossed his mind - Spider-Man on all fours with his bare ass out in the open, how appalling - but before he could put it into action, those lips returned full-force and she kissed and nibbled on his ear, finding that little spot on the back of his neck, and Peter moaned softly. One hand stationed itself on his hip and the other fiddled with something on the blanket. The sound of a cap popping open caught his attention and he looked behind him to watch as she poured a generous amount of lube on her fingers, rubbing it between the pads of her fingers to warm it up.

Peter's heart leaped into his throat, but all he could stutter out was, "I-I didn't know you could take your nails off."

Felicia rolled her eyes, "Of course I can. You didn't really think I was going to prep you with those on, did you? I'm not cruel, Spider."

Peter flushed, feeling suddenly silly. Of course, she wasn't going to do that. He knew human anatomy; she couldn't just stick pointy nails up his ass without doing damage. He was acting like such a hand-wringing virgin.

An anal virgin, he grumbled.

The hand disappeared and Peter braced himself, but Felicia tutted, "None of that."

She continued her ministrations, but only with one hand this time. She pinched and rubbed at his nipples until he was squirming, and then ran her fingers down to his dick, wrapping around the hot length and giving it a gentle squeeze. She pumped him slowly, torturously, and gradually gained speed until he almost forgot about the finger probing his rear. But he gasped, and then inhaled sharply, as the first finger circled his rim, putting knots in his stomach and strange anxiety in his chest. Felicia didn't immediately push in, working his dick until he wasn't as focused on it, and let her finger explore. She pressed the pad of it against his hole, a spot that before now had been privy to no one, and then teased the tip through the tight ring of muscle, pulling it back just before it could go through.

It was oddly torturous. Strange in its unfamiliarity, but not necessarily unpleasant. Peter wanted to tell her to just stick it in already, but that wasn't going to go over well, so he bit his tongue and endured her torment. Not that he needed to wait for long. As if reading his thoughts, she gave his cock a final gratuitous squeeze and pushed past the rim.

"There you go," Felicia murmured into his ear, breath tickling his skin as he struggled to take any in, "Just relax. See, it's not so bad." She eased her finger in slowly, softly thrusting a few times to get him used to it before it bottomed out to her knuckle. "Breathe, Spider. Just like that."

Peter took a deep breath and then exhaled shakily. Then inhaled again, funneling all his attention on keeping his lungs working so he didn't focus on the finger knuckle-deep in his ass, which was a very hard thing to forget mind you. Felicia thrust, soft and shallow, and Peter grunted. It burned. It was easier with lube, definitely easier, but the stretch was foreign, and the scientist inside him wanted her to slow down so he could examine it from all sides. Do a few experiments. Write a couple of essays, maybe.

This is only a finger, he reminded himself, wide-eyed, and his eyes drifted towards the dildo still on the bed like they were tethered to a string.

"How much longer until the strap-on?" He asked, trying to bury his nerves, but Felicia saw through that in an instant and shushed him.

"Don't worry about that right now," she said, and Peter shivered when her tone dropped into something darker. A little more sinister, "You're caught in my web,Spider. I have all night to get you begging." That sounded like a guarantee. Something hot shot in his groin, a feeling that made him want to let her do whatever she wanted, or shove his burning face into a pillow and never resurface. He was still deciding. Maybe he'd do both.

"Those are big words," he choked. "It's - it's very good to have goals."

"I have an even bigger dildo," she hummed. "And that's not a goal, sweetheart. That's a promise."

He choked again.

She was thrusting faster now but it wasn't hurting so much anymore. There was something strangely pleasant about the rhythm of her fingers, and Peter started relaxing into the blankets.

"There's a good little hero," Felicia praised, her other hand reaching around to give his cock a few good pumps like she was giving him a treat. It only stoked the fire more and Peter moaned, shutting his eyes. And then they flew open again and his entire body jolted as Felicia's fingers grazed a spot that sent lightning crackling up his body.

"There it is," she smirked.

She angled her fingers, hitting the spot again and Peter lurched, hands digging into the blankets so hard he heard a tiny rip, curses and moans fell from his lips like excess syllables. If he thought Felicia was going to go easy on him, he was foolishly mistaken. She didn't always hit the spot, sometimes she avoided it, barely missing it, and that only made his body want it even more. Tantalus's punishment. Reaching for something he wanted, but couldn't quite get a grasp of. It was deliciously frustrating. When she avoided the spot again, Peter impatiently backed his hips into her fingers and immediately froze.

He didn't just do that.

"Did you really just do that?" She sounded so damn pleased. Surprised, but so delighted.

He groaned and this time he didn't care if his ass was in the air, he buried his face in the pillow.

Felica hummed, picking up her slow thrusting, but there was a contemplative twinge to it. "If I stopped moving, would you start fucking yourself on my fingers?" She said the question so casually and Peter made a noise in the pillow, "I wonder if I could get you to cum from this. Just my finger. Nice and deep," she hit his prostate again which drove a moan into the pillow, which then turned into an embarrassing keen.

"Felici-" he lifted his face to say, but was cut abruptly off as another finger was added to the first and he sucked in a sharp breath. "Nngg - Feli - ah -"

"No names in costume," Felicia scolded, scissoring him now. "You know the rules, Spider-Man."

It was a rule. His rule. No using their civilian names in costume, he was the one who made it up when they first started going out. Was this going out or just a lot of casual fucking? He wasn't sure and he didn't have the brain cells to throw at the question. He almost wanted to laugh but was a little too busy being finger-fucked, and if that wasn't a thought that sent a strange, though not exactly unpleasant, thrill up his spine.

The burn was back, but it was quickly fading as she kept attacking his sweet spot. Because that's what it felt like. An attack. An assault. A charge, Whatever phrasing suited you, that's what it was, and it was a battle he was losing. Especially when she thrust deep and ground her fingers, making Peter see stars and unintentionally thrust his hips back to meet her again. Not long after the second, was the third finger, and Peter's body was thrumming. Sweat soaked his costume and his body was flushed with heat, he wished he could take off the suit, but this was Felicia's night, and she wanted costumes.

Then again, she always wanted costumes.

So wrapped up in the attention his ass was getting, Peter completely forgot about the strap-on until her fingers disappeared, followed by the sound of buckles as Felicia fitted the harness to her hips. His heart stopped and in one unfailing swoop, his nerves returned. He pulled himself back on all fours, one hand braced on the headboard, needing to feel a little taller, a little sturdier.

Felicia rolled with it and put a hand on his chest, actually pulling him up until he was on his haunches, his back to her chest. The feel of her breasts against his skin had his heart racing, and she peppered more kisses across his shoulder.

"You're doing so well," she whispered in his ear, "Just breathe. Deep breaths, just like that," her other hand strayed back to his ass, opening him up, but Peter focused on his breathing. It would be incredibly embarrassing if he passed out from self-asphyxiation right now.

He was just getting into a rhythm when something probed at his entrance and threw all that out the gate.

"Feli - Cat-"

She shushed him, "Almost there, keep breathing," Her hand went to his chest, stroked over his pecs, going to one of his nipples to distract him again. Why did he have to be so sensitive there? Her hand slid downward, rolling down his abs, and headed towards his dick which had lost some steam with his nerves. Just as her hand wrapped around his member, the dildo pushed in. Not all at once, just the tip, but Peter felt like it was pushing all that precious air he stored right back out of his chest. His lungs went tight and Felicia had to remind him to breathe again, which he did.

Despite the preparation with her fingers, the dildo still burned as it stretched him open. She goes slow and he's immensely grateful for that. Easing in with the occasional thrust to get him used to the feeling. She massaged his balls and stroked his dick, and the assault to his front and back made his brain scramble for broken thoughts until she finally bottomed out, hips meeting his ass, and sat there for a minute to let him adjust.

"How you doing, hero?"

"It's...strange," Peter squeaked, not intending to sound as small as he did. He coughed to clear his voice, "It's...big..."

Felicia pressed her smirk into the nape of his neck, the hand releasing his cock and going to his hip as the other found a place on his back, "I've got bigger. This is the smallest one I have. It's baby's first time taking it up the ass, didn't want to hurt you. Maybe we can work you up to something bigger, but for now," she pushed him down to the bed, on all fours. He made a noise as his hips rocked from the movement, the dildo tugging inside him.

"Don't worry," Felicia crooned. She's having so much fun. "I'll be gentle."

That was when she was supposed to start pounding into him, right? Well, she doesn't. She is gentle. Surprisingly gentle. Felicia was usually all about quick, dirty fucks, high on adrenaline after a fight, and racing for climax. But she takes this slow, rolling against him sensuously, letting him adjust to the stretch until his lungs don't feel ready to combust. She seeks out that sweet spot again, and in one glorious thrust, Peter sees stars.

"Oh my go - Cat! Right there - right there -"

She does it again, and then again, the piston of her hips getting harder and her grip on his hip tighter. Peter quickly loses his ability to form coherent sentences and can't help the noises punched out of him. Try as he might, he bit down on them, face flushing, from the tips of his ears to the bottom of his neck, wanting to keep all those embarrassing sounds bottled up deep, deep inside him.

Then Felicia angled her hips and hit his prostate straight on and Peter let out a garbled mess of pleasure. She laughed, "Come on, Spider, don't hold back on my account. I want to hear everything you have to say."

His response is planting his head in the pillow to hide his humiliation, and instead of being irritated, Felicia laughs and it makes Peter burrow his face harder. He's so achingly hard, pre-cum dripping from the tip of his cock, and he let go of the blanket he was strangling to give it the attention it craved. He only gets a few pumps in when Felicia grabbed his hand.

"Easy, let's not finish so quickly. I told you we'd take it slow, didn't I?"

"Cat-" another thrust and that turned into a garbled mess as well.

Felicia hummed and Peter's body was so sensitive, he could've sworn he felt the vibrations in the air. "I love how you sound," she whispered near his ear, "So desperate, so needy. The big, strong Spider-Man, hero of the streets, reduced to such a mess," she rolled her hips, grinding the dildo into his prostate and Peter's back arched, mouth falling open. For a second, he can't make a sound, but she does it again and he groans so loud he's sure the neighbors can hear it. It's like she was drawing them out of him, wrapping her fingers around his throat and pulling out every noise one by one. Noises he would have never made prior to this.

She slowed her pace to a crawl, hardly touching his prostate at all now, and leaving Peter with nothing but the sensation of being filled. His body was tingling, shaking, suddenly desperate for that addicting, spike of pleasure. It had been building in his groin with every move of her body, and the sudden abandon left him grappling for something to keep it going, but she hardly moved, one hand on his back and the other on his hip.

What was she waiting for? What does she want? Groaning, Peter thrust himself backward to inspire some movement but realizing what he was doing, clutched the sheets instead. "Cat?"

"Tell me what you want," she said, and it leaves Peter a little stumped.

"What?"

She drives her hips forward, giving him another taste that sends thrills up his spine, "Tell me what you want, Swinger. Aren't you the one always saying we need to communicate more? How about we start now."

Peter groaned. Then groaned again, "You're trying to kill me, aren't you? This was your plan all along. I was a fool and I walked right into it."

"You were the one who made the bet."

"I know," he whined.

"You laid out the terms."

"I know."

"You didn't catch as many guys as me."

"I know."

Felicia chuckled, giving his ass a firm squeeze, "Come on, Spider."

"Isn't this communicating?"

"This is talking. There's a difference, baby."

Peter huffed but it lacked any real heat. "For someone who always gives me shit about wanting communication, you seem to know a lot about it."

She leaned down and Peter chokes as the dildo moves with her, sliding inside until she bottoms out again. Her hair tickled his neck as she said, "You're deflecting. You can't pull that trick on me, not tonight. Come on," she rolled her hips, just shy of his sweet spot, and Peter wanted to curse or cry -he's seriously considering doing both. "Let me know how you feel. What do you want me to do to you, baby?"

He grumbled something incoherent into the pillow. "What was that? You want me to do this?" She ground into him and he moaned, "Or this?" She pulled back and slammed directly into his prostate.

The noise Peter made would've embarrassed him down to his core and was so loud he was expecting knocks on his door or bangs on his wall, telling him to shut the hell up, but he could hardly think much less control himself as wonderful, intense pleasure shot through his groin, legs, and spine. "That," he cried, "That. Do that."

"This?" She did it again and Peter thought he actually mightsob. No joking, just tears. He was so achingly hard, his hand tried to go back to his cock, but Felicia caught him and returned it to the bed. It would've been so easy to shrug her off, to resist, but he went along with it without a thought, as much as he ached to rub himself to completion.

"Yes, that. Please, Cat, don't stop."

Her voice is amused in a way that makes his cheeks feel hot, "What's that? I can't quite hear you."

Peter looks heavenward, then hellward, then his walls crumble, "Cat, please, please, please fuck me, right there, where you were just hitting. Please, I - I want you too - I can't -" he didn't know how to articulate and arrange the words piling on his tongue. They were coming so fast, and he wasn't cumming at all, and the vulgarity of what he was asking only became a roadblock for what Felicia wanted him to say. His brain wasn't the best with words, especially when it was on autopilot and not flinging jokes left and right. Expressing his emotions on a normal day was about as pleasant as chewing on glass, and it wasn't any easier with a dildo up his ass.

But Felicia took blessed pity on him, "Close enough, we'll work on that begging later. But for now, I think you earned a treat."

Both hands went to his hips, steadying them both, and before Peter can even taste the anticipation, she's thrusting into him hard, relentlessly, hitting that sweet cluster of nerves every time, and it re-ignites that flame in hot, overwhelming pleasure. Peter's not even sure what he's saying, but he's babbling words, pleas, exclaims of pleasure - Felicia wants communication, but all he can do is mindlessly let go of whatever crosses his mind. He can hear the squeak of her leather catsuit with every thrust of her hips.

For a split second, he realized she was still fully clothed. His shirt was hiked up to expose his chest from when she was playing with his nipples, and his pants were bunched around his knees to give access to his ass. He suddenly felt so much barer. More exposed. He got the inexplicable urge to cover up before Cat hit his prostate again, and those thoughts were swept under the rug, momentarily forgotten. He melted in pleasure.

One of her hands let go and found his head, bunching his mask and hair in a fist, and shoving him face down into the mattress. It puts his ass in the air, and in this new position she hits the spot so much better. He's a blubbering mess, climax coming toward him like a steady train, thunderous and lights on him like a deer on the tracks.

"Felicia - Cat - I'm-"

She slams into him one more time, grinding against his prostate, and he cums yelling her name. It's one of the most intense climaxes he's had in a long time, and it leaves him slumped on the bed, boneless, mindless, and warm. He can't bring himself to move from the mess he was laying in. Felicia stayed sheathed inside him for a little bit, letting him ride out the aftershocks, and rubbing his shoulders, before pulling out. Peter winced but feels oddly empty without her there. Then blushed red hot at the thought.

Behind him, Felicia rummaged around, and when he finally stitched himself back together enough to move, he sat up just as she returned with paper towels and wet wipes in hand. She passed the wet wipes over to him, "Here, clean up while I take care of this blanket. Should've laid some towels down before we started."

Peter listened, but only because he's still in a daze. His brain is coming down from the high of climax, slowly gathering his thoughts like water collecting in a puddle. His ass smarts as he moves, a strange ache deep inside of him that's completely new, and it drew him out of his daze even more. Slowly, he got to cleaning himself, turning his back to Felicia, suddenly shy, as if she'd take one look at him and know what he was thinking. He listened as she rolled up the blanket and put it to the side, to be tossed into the washer at the laundromat later, and grabbed another blanket from the closet. By then he'd washed all the cum off himself, and a portion of the sweat that lingered. He'd need to take a shower to get it all off. In fact, he was going to need to throw his costume in with the blanket.

When he placed the wet wipes on the nightstand, the dildo was there too, placed on a paper towel, and it's smaller than he expected. It felt so much bigger inside him, so much more intense, and realizing he'd been overwhelmed by something like it made him suddenly embarrassed.

She caught him looking, "Here, let me go wash this real quick. Better now than later." She grabbed it and disappeared into the bathroom, running water soon followed. Peter adjusted his shirt and realizing his pants were still down to his knees, pulled those up as well, chest feeling hollow. Raw, like someone, had slit him open and taken his heart in their hands. He spread the new blanket out and tucked himself in, back to the bathroom so he could stare at the wall.

That...had been an experience. Felicia's always been dominant, especially in bed, but it's never bothered him like this before. She gave him orders as he fucked her. She kept his hands pinned to the headboard as she rode him. She's never been one to give up the reins while they were getting intimate, which was fine, he never minded. He kind of enjoyed it. But this was something different.

It's just sex, he told himself stubbornly. It doesn't matter.

Which annoyed him, because if it didn't matter, why did it make him feel like this? So...vulnerable. It wasn't the same strange vulnerability he felt when he first had sex, but it was close. Like a distant cousin.

He's been beaten, thrown through buildings, threatened, and hated by the city, but none of that made him feel as small as he did now. It was a different kind of small. A vulnerability he didn't have a defense for. He felt like he'd been scooped out and refilled with something he couldn't recognize, and this unfamiliarity left him grappling for purchase. He felt like a dishrag wrung out too many times and then spread too wide.

Is this how it felt getting fucked all the time? That open and on display? His emotions, his body, his desires, all spilling over and out of his control. It was terrifying, it was strange, it was thrilling.

It was intense.

Maybe a little too intense.

He didn't realize Felicia finished in the bathroom until she was sliding into the blankets next to him. She's still wearing her Black Cat outfit, though he supposed he's still dressed as Spider-Man too. She sidled up next to him and pulled him close, which was another surprise. Felicia normally didn't stay after they did the dirty. She indulged him every once in a while, and let him cuddle, but eventually, she got up, made herself presentable, and left through the window with a sly smirk and a promise for next time.

He guessed she's just making him feel better, and the thought of being coddled made Peter want to pull away, but he doesn't. Because he's a sorry sap who enjoys having someone in his arms - like a loser.

The silence stretched on for a little bit, but Peter anticipated it when Felicia finally asked, "How was it?"

He sucked in a breath, those words opening the chasm in his chest where he was trying to stuff all these new emotions down. He didn't want to deal with them, thank you very much. "It was...something."

"Something how?"

"Something...something."

"I think you might need to do a little better than that."

Peter snorted, "Is this a communication thing again?"

He didn't need to see the look she gave him; he could feel it. "Alright, it was...new. Strange."

"Bad?"

Peter hesitated, "No," he said, examining his thoughts as critically as he dared. There were a lot of things about it, but none of them necessarily bad. It was definitely one of the greatest climaxes he's had in a while. But something else was picking at him, like a chisel to stone. "It wasn't bad. Just...really intense."

She smiled into his shoulder and planted another soft kiss that he wanted to indulge in. Was she only being soft with him because she did the fucking this time around? Was that a rule? He's always wanted to cuddle and hold her after sex, but she always pulled away.

"Yeah, it gets very intense."

Peter bit his lip, "...maybe a little too intense."

That had her pausing. Her eyes are like pinpricks in his neck and she sat up a little. "It's always intense the first time, Spider. Just like with anything. We can always try different things, I-"

"I'm...not sure I want to," Peter said. It was strange being the one getting fucked. Out of his orbit. It was pleasurable, there was no denying that, but every time he thought back to it, to the squeak of Cat's leather catsuit, her hair tickling his back, her fingers tangled in his mask/hair, it pricked at him in a way he didn't think it would.

Felicia's silent. Then, "That's it? You don't want to try again?" Another pause, "Is this a pride thing?"

He thought of himself on all fours as she rammed into him. On his back, spread open before her. Or with his knees pulled up to his chest. Or holding his legs open so she could thrust deep into him. His dick twitched a little at the thought, but it was overshadowed by the bone-deep humiliation of it all. He crossed his arms over his chest, defensively,

"No," he lied.

The silence stretched on. Maybe a little too long, and Peter felt like squirming, but he managed to keep himself in place. He can't bring himself to look at Felicia, feeling too open and exposed for one night.

Finally, he caught a tight, "Fine."

She sounded disappointed, and that pricked at him too. He didn't want to disappoint her.

Felicia doesn't leave right away like he expected. They cuddle for a while, but it lacks any real intimacy. Peter wished it didn't and wondered if he ruined it. He probably did. He had a habit of ruining a lot of things, most of them good. He's pretty sure Felicia is indulging him because this was his first time, and she's making sure he'll be alright, but it feels out of necessity and obligation. He hates himself for falling into it anyway, craving the contact.

Somehow, he finds it in him to drift off to sleep. But when he wakes up later that night, Felicia is already gone.

There it is! Peter, of course, did enjoy it, he just has some of his own personal issues to work out - which he does eventually. If you haven't visited Sci's blog, definitely go visit it on tumblr at ask-spiderpool. 100% worth the read.

I personally think that Peter should be getting pegged by women all the time. The man deserves it, he goes through a lot of shit.

Drop a comment if you enjoyed and thanks for reading!