Spectacular Spider-Sluts: Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Rio Morales was a single woman. Even saying that out loud made her heart ache. She had been married to Jefferson for 18 wonderful years. They built a life together, grew a home together, raised their son together, and now she was just supposed to keep moving forward without him right by her side? If it wasn’t for Miles supporting her, loving her, and being her shoulder to lean on, she knows she would’ve never made it this far… And now, almost two years since Jeff’s passing, she was finally starting to feel somewhat like her old self again. She was laughing, smiling, even partaking in a little harmless flirting with some cute doctors down at the hospital.

Despite being a “woman of a certain age” (and NO she was not going to tell you how old she was, thank you very much) Rio still got lots of attention from men. I mean, why wouldn’t she? Her slender face, irresistibly luscious lips, big, wide, cocoa-brown eyes, and dark, kinky, jet-black hair perfectly complimented her gorgeous, caramel-colored complexion. Her heavy, obscenely perky breasts were one of the first things Jeff noticed about her, just the way those pillowy-soft udders (far too fat to fit into any of the standard scrubs the hospital provided) bounced, and wobbled, and swayed wildly, even inside one of her too-tight bras was absolutely hypnotizing. Her gargantuan rack led down a slim, yet curvy, hourglass waist, which flared out into those ridiculously wide, childbearing hips her mother gave her; supple, plump, and meaty, just the right base for her ungodly thick, voluptuous thighs and long, shapely legs.

Of course, what really drove most men WILD (Jeff included) was that ASS. That colossal, marshmallowy rump of clapping, smacking, squishy-soft ass-fat bobbing back and forth like it had a mind of its own! It was a MIRACLE if Rio could even SQUEEZE that big ol’ brown-skinned phatty halfway into a pair of jeans that weren’t custom-made for her! Her mama’s Puerto Rican genes really came out in FULL FORCE as the bottom-heavy Latina was growing up! Let’s just say that “hitting it from the back” was next to impossible for poor Jeff, but that didn’t bother him (much), because he just loved looking in his precious Rio’s eyes as they made love.

But now that Jeff was gone, the only man Rio needed in her life was her mijo, her beloved Miles. 10 long, lonely months he was away at that exclusive boarding school of his. Deep down, she knew it was the right decision for his future… But being so far away from her one and only son did make her heart ache. When he finally got home, she was expecting to see the same sweet, smiling face that she always had these last 16 years, but instead… She was greeted by that damned smirk. So smug. So cocky. So crude. She hardly recognized her mijo anymore. Now there was just this towering, 6’7 HUNK of flawless, rippling muscle looming over her. Those broad, bulky shoulders, enormous, beefy biceps, huge, boulder-sized pecs, shredded six-pack abs, and colossal, steel beam-like legs, none of it looked like it belonged to the small, scrawny science geek she raised. Rio didn’t want to admit it, but… He looked even bigger and stronger than his father did.

It’s only been about a week since Miles came back, and Rio was already starting to feel on-edge around him… It didn’t make sense, why was she walking on eggshells around her own son? Was it because he strutted around the house half-naked, glistening like his dark-chocolate muscles were just slathered in oil? Was it because of the way he touched her? So assertively, squeezing into her soft, womanly curves with the experience of a man twice his age? Was it… Because of that “THING” between his legs? That mammoth-sized behemoth tenting constantly inside his shorts, swelling into a bulge so big, so fat, so unimaginably MASSIVE that it was almost impossible NOT to gawk at it? Even hearing his voice, that deep, dark, mesmerizing voice was enough to send chills down her back…

Whatever it was, it made Rio steer clear of him as much as she could. Even now, just getting off a rough double shift, she was creeping through her home, trying to hop into the shower before Miles could notice. She peeled off her clothes in the hallway, just keeping on her lacy black thong, as she snuck into the bathroom. Unfortunately for her, Miles, wet, soapy, glistening Miles, was just getting out of the shower. “Ay, dios mío!” She gasped, blushing like a schoolgirl, as every last inch of that flawless teenage form was on full display! “M—Mijo! What’re you doing home? I thought you had plans with Hailey?” Rio tried her best not to stare, but DAMN was he making it hard! And speaking of “hard”, why was that THING ROCK-HARD…? And drooling, leaking such thick, steamy pre-jizz all over the tile floor… Fuuuccckkk… Even his stench, that addictive, hyper masculine aroma, was making poor Rio tremble, and her fat, puffy pussy just ACHE! “Madre de Dios…” She muttered under her breath, covering up her breasts, while Miles didn’t even try to hide himself; just staring deep into her eyes, with that same damned smirk across his face.

“M—Mijo… I know it’s normal for a boy your age to be ‘excited’, but please… Cover up a little? M—Mama might be a nurse, but that doesn’t mean I want to see your bicho (cock) hanging out…” She murmured, gnawing on her pillowy bottom lip.

Miles Morales' life had changed a lot in the past year. He'd faced what had to be the biggest tragedy of his life in the form of his father, Jefferson Davis, dying just as heroically as he lived shielding the men and women of New York from the attack of a raging Supervillain on the loose, he was bitten by a genetically enhanced Spider that made him every bit as spectacular as the hero he'd looked up to for as long as he could remember, and even had the privilege to be taken under the original Spider-Man's wing.

The past ten months had been a blur of juggling action packed Superhero duties that held the fate of the entire city in the balance with an unchallenged position at the top of his class at Brooklyn Visions Academy and an unexpected, but very much not unwelcome love triangle with the punk street artist Hailey Cooper, and the fair-skinned, freckly-cheeked goth babe Gwen Stacy that captured the hearts of half the simpering geeks in school were desperately fawning over from the day she first transferred right alongside the mysterious appearance of a new Spider-Woman...

But what was easily the biggest change for the fledgling hero was one that even he remained unaware of...well, as unaware as he could have been when he began to grow a full head of height in the span of a single night, packed on pounds of granite hard muscle that outdid what most hardbodied gym junkies could achieve in an entire lifetime in only a few weeks. Even his father, who was a well renowned tank on the police force, would be dwarfed by his son's enormously chiseled, broad-shouldered, chocolate-skinned muscle hunk body, and he very clearly knew that in the way he carried himself.

Where Miles was once shy, geeky, and something of an introvert, just barely coming out of his shell around his trusted inner circle of his old friends Phin and Ganke, now, he acted like every bit the hunky jock he looked. An undeniable swagger in his every step as though he knew that he undoubtedly had the biggest dick in the room wherever he went, and he frequently went out of his way to showcase that to poor, frustrated Rio just subtly enough for his sexual intent to retain some plausible deniability. He never failed to grind that obscenely thick teen cockbulge of his against that phat, wobbly ass-shelf of hers when he insisted on "helping" her peel potatoes and cut up vegetables for dinner, all too often making her eyes wander to the impossibly huge impression of the juicy black "eggplant" he had hidden away in his pants...

And now it was right out in the open for her to see, not even at its full hardness and still more thick, sturdy, solid and SO IRRESISTIBLY HUGE that Jefferson, God rest his soul, had been completely, undoubtedly unmatched by his son's juicy black bitchbreaker of a cock without Miles even having to try! What made it even worse was the look on his face, that same sly, cocky smirk of his that had become all too common ever since he got back home, his pearly whites fully revealed and making the chiseled handsomeness of his brick-hard jaw come out in full force, his body glistening with fresh, soapy bodywash that still didn't stand a chance of masking the beastly scent of OVERWHELMING COCKSWEAT AND THICK, BITCH-BREEDING PRE-GREASE DRIPPING FROM THE FIST-SIZED HEAD OF HIS BLOATED BLACK BULL-DICK!

"Oh? This old thing? Sorry about that...it's a little hard to hide the damn thing, you know how morning wood can get, don't you? Bet none of the patients back at that stuffy old hospital of yours ever get it like this though, do they now, Mama?" Miles laughed, making a show of his epic cockshaft as he pumped his thick, strong, beefy hand all the way from base to hulking, bloated tip before her glazed over eyes, his own deep brown orbs taking in the poorly hidden curves of her fuckable figure with the appraisal of a lion staring down a piece of fresh meat, ripe for the picking. The scent in the air revealed what could only be a prime MILF bitch with a body desperate to be pumped and bred, and while only a few months ago, Miles couldn't have possibly imagined even entertaining such a thought, now it seemed not only natural, but inexorably, divinely right.

Unbeknownst to him, the remnants of the symbiote Peter had picked up had wormed its way against his brain and utterly supercharged his puberty, his mind following the molding of his body as his masculine instincts told him that a woman with a body like Rio's staying in a home with an unrepentant alpha male who lived to spread his seed unhindered like the wild, beastly brute-stud he was could only ever end in a single outcome...and while that may not have been today, he knew he would have his mother's pillowy Puerto-Rican ass-shelf desperately shaking on his cock soon enough. And so the titanic teen stud merely laughed and stepped out of the shower, his rippling abs and sturdy, marble carved chest on full display, the sheer girth of his pulsing alpha rod twitching and rising as though magnetically attracted to the juicy brown bubble butt shivering and bouncing mere INCHES away from being pried apart and made to reveal her trembling holes to be fucked and filled with his thick, hot ball-broth...

"Gotta head to the internship with Pete anyway. The drain might be a bit...blocked, sorry about that, with balls like mine, can't really help if a few chunky pre-wads end up clogging the shitty piping in this place. I'll take care of it once I'm back, you just make sure that this..." he trailed off, emboldened by the woman's barely hidden arousal and following through on his boldest act of flirtation yet as he downright SMACKED his mother on the side of that obscenely thick, ripe, marshmallow-soft booty shelf of hers like she was a goddamn stripper shaking it for her most well paying client and licking his lips with lecherous approval at the jiggling bounce they gave beneath the might of those strong, studly hands of his.

"Fine ass of yours stays nice and safe, alright? Lot of weird stuff going on in the city these days...wouldn't be surprised if that new Spider-Man even stopped by to make sure everything's all good." He snickered with a wide grin, not bothering to put on a towel as he finally walked away and gave Rio the space to breath, his tight, musclebound asscheeks and heavy, solid quads thumping against the cheap floorboards and growing quieter as he moved further and further away.

None of this made any sense. Some small part of Rio knew that all too well, how this massive, swaggering HUNK of flawless, dark ebony muscle couldn’t possibly be the same lanky, awkward beanpole she sent off to that damned boarding school just 10 months ago. Something had to have been wrong, dangerously wrong… So why did that goddamn stench still drive her so wild? It was like the longer she stood in front of him, marveling at every thick, corded muscle and beefy, popping vein, the more that hypnotic stud-musk wormed its way deeper and deeper into her mind; making those long, outrageously luscious legs of hers quake like jelly, while she mindlessly squeezed her monstrously thick thighs together, rubbing and grinding them back and forth, trying her damndest to not let Miles see just how wet she’d gotten. Even the way he said “Mama” just didn’t sound right. Where had her sweet, shy, soft-spoken boy gone? Why was his voice just so deep, so rugged, so completely irresistible? She mindlessly licked her lips as the cocky young bull shamelessly stroked that ungodly fat slab of underaged breeding beef. There was just NO WAY a 16-year-old boy should have a cock that HUGE! Madre de Dios…

And then there was that “SMACK”, hard, blistering “SMACK” that crashed through the whole apartment like the sound of thunder! Rio’s mind-bogglingly bubbly rump of beautifully bronzed, Puerto Rican twerk-meat bounced, and rippled, and jiggled feverishly in the palm of Miles’ beastly hand; his fingers squishing into all that doughy, spongy, clapping ass-fat, kneading it ferociously, prying her colossal golden-brown pound-cakes apart, leaving her deeply frustrated pussy absolutely SOAKED, all with that smug, smarmy smile plastered across his strong, square-jawed face. Rio should’ve been appalled, should’ve been angry, should’ve been doing anything other than whimpering like a bitch in heat, eyes as big as saucers, gazing deep into her son’s dark, smoldering stare. Her soft, delicate hands, almost having a mind of their own, caressed Miles’ enormous, dark-chocolate chest, those sharp stiletto nails grazing over the taut, sculpted flesh of his giant, rock-solid pecs, down each sharply defined ridge of his perfectly cut abs, drifting further and further down… Until she finally caught herself, just before she could grab hold of that fatly-veined, violently twitching womb-busting behemoth growing fatter, longer, and angrier…

“Ay, be careful, Papi… And tell Peter to please stop by for dinner sometime. I want to thank him for watching out for you.” Rio whispered, giving her precious baby boy a firm peck on the lips, before he finally sauntered off and gave her racing heart a chance to rest. “Amado Padre Celestial (Dear Heavenly Father)… Please, give me strength…” Rio sighed, trembling at just how drenched in her own sugary juices she is…

—

Peter Parker was unlucky. This wasn’t him being self-deprecating or exaggerating, it was just an undeniable fact. Whether it’s losing both of his parents when he was just a baby, or losing one of the only father figures he had in a random mugging, or just getting bitten by a radioactive spider, it seems like bad luck just follows poor Peter Parker wherever he goes… But what’s been happening to him over the last 10 months has been much more than just Peter’s usual brand of sorry luck. The 24-year-old web-slinging hero has noticed that his body has been rapidly changing, and not in the ways you’d expect. Peter’s once sturdy 6’1 frame has shrunk all full foot, down to a petite 5’1. His lean, hard-fought muscles, which he’s trained quite diligently over the years, have softened, growing smaller, daintier, and incredibly feminine, as his brawny frame cinched into a small, slim hourglass shape; flaring out into a pair of ridiculously wide, voluptuous hips, far too plump and womanly to fit into any pair of jeans he owned. His legs became smooth and supple, as his thighs thickened up, becoming outrageously soft and shapely. Of course, what Peter immediately noticed was his ass. His once toned glutes became a pair of jaw-dropping, mind-bogglingly round ass-cheeks, gigantic, heaving mounds of wobbling ass-meat that clapped, smacked, and twerked relentlessly with every simple move Peter made. It was an ass that strippers and porn-stars paid top dollar for, a lily-white shelf of darkly-freckled PAWB (Phat Ass White Boi) meat that got poor little Petey cat-calls from half way down the block!

“It’s not so bad, Pete. I think you’re cute like this. Honest.” Mary Jane, Peter’s beloved wife, kept telling him, but it just wasn’t right for a super-hero to look so damn girly. To make matters even more humiliating, Peter was forced to borrow MJ’s clothes, since none of his old ones fit right anymore. MJ seemed to have been going through some changes of her own that were far too strange and unnerving for Peter to fully accept…given that he was still looking for a new job after his stint with Otto went bust in typical friend-turned-foe Spider-Man adventure fashion, he wouldn’t dare to voice his feelings of wariness about her new job as an on-site reporter for BLACKED Media… he wasn’t quite sure what it was, but the strange, racially charged slant of the “reporting” they did at that company always gave him a bad feeling, and it didn’t help that they seemed to be growing nearly as big as the Daily Bugle these days. Sometimes he wondered if that had something to do with why MJ was so…off recently, treating him more like her gal pal bestie and constantly going on and on about how much she loved this new, cuter, more feminine Peter Parker…

“C-Come on, MJ… I-I can’t wear this in front of Miles…” He pouted those plump, pillowy, overly-glossed lips of his, his cute, heart-shaped face beet-red with embarrassment, while MJ flashed him a big, excited grin.

“You don’t really have much of a choice here, tiger. You’re meeting Miles down at the lab in 20 minutes, right?” MJ chuckled deviously, as a deflated Peter snatched the outfit and quickly changed…

The tiny pink booty-shorts, far too small and tight to cover up even HALF of Petey’s homegrown PAWB twerk-shelf, was riding up further and further, hugging tight on his ever-shrinking clitty and puffy, unbelievably sensitive fag-cunt. The sheer white crop top MJ chose was squeezing on his tiny little bite-sized tits, his puffy, swollen pink nipples peeking through the fabric and getting harder the more attention his curvy sissy-boi body was getting. Worst of all were the heels, five-inch, baby-pink stilettos that MJ said would perfectly match his cute little outfit. It was like all of New York could see his colossal, creamy-white ass-cheeks clapping away, each embarrassingly loud “THWAP” “THWAP” “THWAP” making more and more men turn their heads and gawk at the freckly, fat-cheeked twerk-slut shaking his big ol’ bim-boi booty-meat like a fucking cock-tease. Petey could hear them whispering, “What a fuckin’ faggot.” “You see all that shit twerking back and forth?” “Bitch is just beggin’ to get fucked with an ass that fat.” “Pouty fag-lips just perfect for choking on cock.”, it was disgusting, it was humiliating, and it made his trembling clit ache like a bitch; leaking all over his short-shorts, while his pussified hole just leaked those sweet, syrupy, cherry-tinged juices even more!

When Petey finally got to Octavius Industries and donned his crisp white lab coat, he finally felt at least a little at ease. No more prying eyes. No more ass-clapping. No more being treated like a braindead bitch. His mind just drifted to Miles… He hadn’t seen his young protege since all of these changes to his body happened. What would he think when he saw him like this? Would he still respect him? His heart started to race, it was humiliating enough being treated like a girl in front of (and by) MJ, but having Miles treat him differently? That would’ve really hurt his already crumbling self-esteem.

When Petey felt anxious, he liked to tinker. He headed over to his work-bench, grabbing materials to work on the newest design of his web-shooters, arching his back, standing on his tip-toes, bouncing up and down slowly, just so he could try and see what he was reaching for. It was a real struggle being this small! Petey’s long, silky, shoulder-length brown hair was bouncing back and forth, getting in his face, so he tied it back into a ponytail. He just kept bouncing, letting his ass-cheeks CLAP and SMACK, spilling further and further out of his slutty little short-shorts, while his girly little gasps and grunts filled the lab.

“Dammit… Dammit… Dammit!”

Usually, not having his web shooters for a trip all the way across Manhattan would have been quite an annoyance, sure, his powers gave him the kind of stamina and speed that made traversing the city on foot much easier than for the average out of shape Joe Schmoe, but that didn't make it any less of a hassle to zip through twelve miles when he could have swung over in half the time. Now though? If Miles was on par with the average olympic marathon runner before, he made Usain Bolt in his prime look like a stumbling toddler now!

Dressed in a pair of tight joggers that did absolutely NOTHING to hide the flopping girth of his beastly womb-wrecker as it smacked against his massively muscular thighs, and a hoodie that was zipped up just enough to let the bulk of his beefy chest hang out in the open airas he ran, Miles was drawing more eyes his way than a runway model as sweat glistened over the smooth chocolate skin of his bulging muscles and made every last thick vein and pumped up ridge of steel-hard alpha meat glisten like only the finest gold bricks could. His body looked good enough to eat off (or just plain eat~) and even as he remained nothing but a blur at his top speed, the mere afterimage of his perfect form was enough to have the early rising women of Harlem to be left foaming at the mouth, forgetting their puny boyfriend's name as the hunky mystery stud sprinting through the city took full residence over their minds without even trying.

The once starry-eyed Miles who believed in the idealistic heroism that Peter so desperately passed onto him wasn't entirely dead, but the ambition and pride of a rugged alpha male who lived to conquer and dominate had all but suffocated his presence. No real man could have been satisfied working out of a tiny hole in the ground like this for a peasant's wage, and a part of him lost respect for Peter thinking that he could actually accept a position so unbecoming of a man.

Miles had always had big dreams, but as with everything else, the symbiote seemed to supercharge them into something far, FAR greater. Where before, he'd only hoped to put his brilliance to use in changing the world for the better, Miles saw himself as better than the likes of Otto or Peter in merely playing to vague, idealistic platitudes. He wanted, no...he deserved to be at the top of the world, and every aspect of how he carried himself into the building. His broad, burly chest stood like the mast of a boat hitting the shore as he walked with a strong, powerful gait to his every step, the men in the building instantly going silent and giving way to the unmistakable aura of an alpha male in his element, the secretary hypnotized by his handsome features and almost in a trance as she handed him a keycard to the upper floor's research lab without a second thought, eyes too focused on his veiny biceps and ruggedly handsome face to even remember what he said as the poor woman instantly fell for a stud who wouldn't even remember her face in the next few hours.

He walked like he owned the place, and a few gossiping researchers were under the impression that he did, taking him for some hotshot CEO or investor here to buy off the lab after Otto was out of the picture, though he paid them no mind as he swiped his keycard into Otto's former personal lab, expecting to meet Peter here like they did when he was in his formative weeks of hero training...only to be caught off guard by a set of OBSCENELY FAT, MILKY, PILLOWY SOFT PAWG CHEEKS THAT GAVE EVEN GWEN STACY'S AVALANCHE OF PERKY IVORY ASSFAT A RUN FOR ITS MONEY!

With his hormones as hypercharged as they were recently, Miles didn't spare a single thought to looking for Peter, his backed up ballsack still rumbling from being denied the pleasure of release with Rio's untimely interruption, it only made sense to him that a bitch putting herself on display in such a slutty little outfit was just begging to get fucked, probably some pencil-necked researcher's girlfriend getting ready to go out on the town looking dor a cock to actually satisfy her while her puny boyfriend slaved away in a failing company earning money for her to spend dolling herself up for a real stud. Today would be her lucky day though, as Miles, in all his newfound boldness, closed the distance between them at lightning speed and let his hand rocket into every last inch of that soft, pillowy PAWG assmeat without a second thought, his fingers sinking into that milky marshmallow softness that rivalled even the marvelous feel of Rio's Puerto-Rican wobble-meat as he shook her ass from side to side like he fucking owned it and breathed down the bitch's neck with a primal snort like a true breeding bull in heat.

"Hey there~ Now what's a little cutie like you doing in a place like this? You know this lab is going defunct, right? I can think of way better things for a piece of ass like you to be doing than worrying that pretty head playing around with all these toys you don't understand...maybe we can go out back and I'll show you something you'd have a lot more fun playing with, why don't we?" He whispered to her, wasting no time in cutting right to the chase as he jiggled her juicy jello rear like a pimp appraising his bottom bitch, not even recognizing his mentor's face from how much of a warped, femmy little slut he'd turned into in the past few months. Hell, the tiny thimble of a cock between his legs was so weak and tiny that Miles had no idea he was fondling a "man" with those big, brawny hands of his...though with how pent up he was, he probably wouldn't have cared anyway…

Oh god… Peter could barely react before he suddenly felt those huge, heavy, hulking hands sinking relentlessly into his ridiculously round, darkly-freckled globes of lily-white wobble-meat. It wasn’t like this was new, it’s been happening for months now, but this felt… Different, somehow. These hands felt meaner, rougher, more ravenous, like a starving predator sinking it’s teeth deep into the soft, supple flesh of it’s helpless prey. Pathetic little Petey would normally try and tell the bastard off, blushing so deep, stumbling over his words, before finally getting shut-down and letting them do whatever god awful things they wanted to him… But this time, all he could do was just whimper. Whimper, and moan, and gasp like a little bitch in heat, his face burning bright like a wildfire, while that stranger’s rugged, mind-numbingly handsome voice made him tremble so damn hard.

Petey arched his slender back even harder, leaning against the work bench, while those brutal hands wobbled his gigantic, jello-y ass-cheeks back and forth. He couldn’t believe it, but he was starting to swish his insanely wide, girly hips, swinging them to and fro, making his wobbling shelf of sissy-meat bounce and twerk like an even bigger, sluttier bitch! Fuuuccckkk… Petey’s head was getting so warm and fuzzy… And his limp little clit was suddenly all rock-hard, leaking like a whore, and painting his tiny little booty-shorts with so much slick, sugary sissy-cum! Oh god, oh god, oh god… Why couldn’t Petey get it up for MJ anymore, but his clitty was drooling so bad just from getting smacked around like he was some stupid little slut?

Petey finally worked up the courage to crane his neck back, those brilliant, emerald green eyes gazing long and hard into Miles’ deep, dark, intense pools. God… Those eyes looked so familiar… Petey couldn’t quite place them, but he knew he’s seen them before.

“B—But, I’m… I—I know what I’m doing… I—I’m a research assistant…” Petey pouted, glossing up his alluringly fat, juicy pink lips with his tongue, while throwing that perfectly plump, pillowy white phatty up and down like a goddamn stripper; the harder Miles’ huge, sweaty, studly Alpha cock was tenting in his joggers, the faster Petey’s hips swished and CLAPPED those gargantuan-sized mounds of freckly cheek-meat like a damn video vixen. “S—Smack it harder. P—Please? J—Just a little harder… I—I… Fuck… I—I’m dripping so hard…” Petey groaned, eyes glazing over, tongue spilling out of his piping hot maw, while he drooled over the beefy, bulging behemoth tearing apart Miles’ pants!

"Research assistant? You're in the wrong line of work, babe. With an ass this fucking fat? You'd be making a hell of a lot more doing something I think we'd both enjoy..." Miles trailed off, smacking both hands against either side of that doughy soft bubble butt that Pete desperately bounced against his sturdy hips, the soft meat of the slut's jiggly jumbo ass meeting his rock hard abs as Miles pushed a thick finger into the squirming bitch's mouth for her to suckle and mewl all over like the little slut she was.

"Trust me, I'll make it worth your while. Fuck, you'd probably clap that phat fucking ass you got all over me free of charge with how you're twerking like a bitch in heat. Your boyfriend must be one hell of a fucking wimp if you're that desperate, cause I know damn well a bitch that looks like you dressed like that has some little cucky back home, don't you? Does he know that you love to shake this big fat ass you got all over any stud that smacks your ass, hm? Little miss research assistant?" He teased the "girl" even more, his rumbling voice deep and echoing through her very soul as Peter was powerless to deny the man before him, Miles' words were almost hypnotic, awakening a deep instinct to obey that was only spurred on by the symbiote as "she" drank in the sweaty, manly scent of a backed up stud, sensing that he had yet to drain his balls and had a fresh, potent, sperm-stuffed load of juicy nut-sauce bubbling up between his legs for any prime bitches to choke on like good little cocksluts~

Like the domineering alpha he was, Miles wasted no time spinning Pete around by her tiny waist, his huge, hulking hands dwarfing her teeny torso as he hoisted her up like the little shortstack slut she was, her body weighing nothing at all in his grip as he moved his hands down to grip both of her tender booty-spheres with an echoing WHOP! The girl's heartbeat racing as their faces grew closer and closer, inches away from joining lips in sordid union, she knew it was wrong, to make out with some random hunk who's name she didn't even know while MJ was out earning money for their home...but God, it just felt so right...

Or at least it did until Miles paused in his lustful onslaught, feeling a tiny prick of some thin, teeny, trembling length poking against his abs before looking down with eyes that widened with surprise as he caught a thin trickle of watery, weak sissy drippings from Pete's tiny cocklet that revealed what he really was.

"I...oh, shit, fuck. Uhhh...that was..." Miles stopped himself, quickly pulling himself away from the "man" and setting him down on the desk as he suddenly questioned his sexuality like he never had before, his lust still not unabated, but tempered by the awkwardness of the situation to the point he could come to his senses, if only for a little while.

"I...thought you were someone else there, sorry. I'm not...well, ugh, whatever. Have you seen Peter Parker? I had some...tech commissioned from him a while ago that I had to pick up before the lab went defunct. I'm Miles Morales, by the way. Sorry we had to meet like this." He apologized, still seeming every bit as roguishly handsome and confident even as he murmured through an awkward apology and revealed his identity with clear reluctance in his voice. THIS was Miles Morales? The man was even taller than Peter used to be and just about twice as big. Peter had gone through a growth spurt of his own after awakening his powers, but turning into an absolute behemoth of solid, bulky, hunky, manly, sexy black studbeef...i-it just made no sense!

It was like Petey was waiting for this his whole life! Every fiber of his being wanted to be this big, mean, black bull’s little white sissy-bitch! Each time those dark, rough, calloused hands came CRASHING down on his ungodly pillowy, perky wobble-shelf, beating it harder, faster, meaner than Petey ever thought possible, his aching little clitty jumped and squirted like a stupid little bitch in heat! The sound of quaking ass-cheeks and deep, beastly growls were filling every corner of the lab, as Petey could feel his bubbly, squishy, marshmallowy-soft ass-fat clapping off Miles’ steel-hard abs; squishing down even harder on his humongously fat, beefy bully-sized bulge, smacking, wobbling, grinding back and forth, making it RAGE even more inside Miles’ joggers.

Oh my fucking god! Petey was practically pissing his own sugary, cherry-flavored girly-jizz, drenching his tiny little shorts over and over and over again, as Miles’ words were getting drilled deeper and deeper into his incredibly malleable, hypnotized brain. Petey was drinking in that addictive studly musk like it was a goddamn drug, slurping on Miles’ big, beefy, sausage-sized fingers, slurping it straight down to the knuckles, until the big, black teenage brute suddenly spun him around!

HOLY FUCK… HERE IT COMES! Petey’s little heart felt like it was going to come bursting right out of his chest! Miles’ hands just felt so RIGHT squeezing around his cinched, girlish waist, gripping so tight it felt like he could just break him! He hoisted “her” up, and Petey’s insanely soft, voluptuous legs locked around the musclebound Alpha, trapping him like “she” never wanted to let him go! It was like those big, brutal hands were just MAGNETIZED to Petey’s perfect, pale-white globes of freckly PAWG-meat; squishing those fat black fingers in so deep that Petey had huge bruises painted all over his ridiculously fat rump! As Miles inched closer, lips closing in on Petey’s, his clitty was had turned into a pinprick, angrily-red, agonizingly stiff, and gushing like crazy! He didn’t even notice how hard he was pushing his raging little sissy-clit into Miles until the crude bully suddenly stopped, staring at Petey like a deer in headlights…

Petey was… Humiliated. Rejected because of the “thing” between his legs… It was the first time in his life that he wished he was born with a fat, meaty, oversized pussy instead of a useless, leaking fag-clit… Petey sat back on the work bench, eyes shifting to the floor, shame and embarrassment practically vibrating off his body…

But it wasn’t until the ruggedly handsome stud finally said his name that Petey’s racing heart nearly STOPPED! “W—Wait… M—Miles…? Oh god… Oh no…” Petey’s face went pale as a ghost, his bright green eyes growing wide with terror, as he stammered and mumbled incoherently under his breath. This was wrong! SO WRONG! Petey just dry-humped a TEENAGER! He just broke the law! He was a CRIMINAL! How could he have known though? Just look at Miles, the “boy” could’ve easily passed for a stud deep into his late 20’s! This couldn’t have been tall, lanky, awkward Miles Morales, could it? There was just NO WAY! Petey’s eyes shifted back and forth between Miles and the floor for several minutes, like he was wracking his brain coming up with ANYTHING to say. Finally, he let out an exasperated sigh, looking up at Miles with defeat in his eyes.

“M—Miles… It’s me. I’m Peter.” He admitted, looking down at the soaked spot on his shorts, while his cute little clitty was still raging inside; grinding against the sticky fabric and sending shivers down his spine. “I—I’ve been like this for months. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I just started getting shorter, and then my body started changing, and now… I’m guessing whatever is happening to me, is also happening to you…? Just in reverse, I’m assuming… Oh god, this is just so wrong… I’m so sorry about all this, Miles.”

Miles almost laughed at the sissy's claim, barely holding himself from cackling like a hyena at the thought that THE Spider-Man had somehow turned into this...teeny, freckly-cheeked, fat-assed little fuckdoll whore who was this close to crumbling at the touch of a beefy black alpha male and getting fucked like a breeding mare in heat...only for his heart to sink as he realized how serious he was actually being.

"Oh...seriously? Fuck, is that why you haven't been calling me for so long? Damn Pete, that's just...how? You're like a whole foot shorter and...errr, well, a lot more...approachable..." The towering hunk stammered a bit, revealing a tiny trace of his former awkwardness as he shifted around the topic of how close he was to locking lips with his mentor and fucking him into the ground like a fuckable little fleshlight made to squeeze around his giant black bulldick until he splattered out the chunky load that'd been brewing in his balls since his on-and-off girlfriend Hailey last sucked him off a week ago.

"Do you have any idea what did it? Or...when it's going to end? You could probably tell, but I didn't just grow taller these past few months...I don't hate it, but uh, sometimes I get a bit...out of control when I'm riled up." He stumbled out, his fingers brushing through his dreads and scratching behind his head, his eyes failing to hide the unabashed lechery leaking through his gaze as he watched Pete from head to toe, locking in on "his" wide hips and bottom heavy hourglass figure before unconsciously licking his lips like a predator catching the scent of a vulnerable animal to hunt.

The tension in the air hadn't broken off in the slightest from their sudden interruption, and Pete, despite his greater sense of shame at what he'd done, couldn't help but blush with an inner glee at the thought that this chiseled, chocolate-skinned bull wanted him just as badly as he did moments ago, regardless of whether he was Peter Parker or not. Had the crime alert buzzing on his watch came even a minute later, he might have already been pinned beneath the studly bulk of that beefy black body and thrashing with pleasure as he slammed his juicy cock inside of "her"...but for better or worse, the heroes' sense of duty won over their sordid desire to fuck each other's brains out.

Suiting up had only made things worse for the two of them, with the help of the symbiote, it was easy enough for Peter to tap into his telepathic link with the creature and shroud himself in the murky black ink of its body to mold into his new, skintight, glossy suit that looked more like shiny latex BDSM gear than anything resembling a combat outfit, the trailing liquid of the alien creature painfully slow and tight as it crept its way across his fat, girly asscheeks as though reflecting his subconscious desire to brazenly tease Miles however he could. Which was clearly working, given how much Miles betrayed his promise to himself and swung his head back to admire the impossibly curvy figure of the bubble-butted boyslut suiting up on the other side of the room, barely even hearing the police dispatch's warning of a robbery on OSCORP tower beyond the echoing claps of Petey's giant, jiggly PAWB booty before it was woefully hidden from his gaze.

Though Miles clearly wasn't the only one with prying eyes, as he was forced to strip himself of his clothes first, peeling off his sweat-stained hoody and pants and leaving the thick, brawny expanse of his broad, beefy, muscular back open to be gawked at by Peter's glazed over eyes, taking in every last trickle of sweat running down his corded muscles and biting his lip with shameful lust. It was almost like he was back in high school, being utterly dwarfed in the locker room by those bigger, stronger, brawny brutes on the football team that used to bully him like Flash did...maybe if he had a bully like Miles, he wouldn't have minded getting pushed around some by those beefy arms...

And that fat fucking COCK, Miles was just in his underwear, but the sheer impression of his bloated Giga-dick made it clear that it was almost, if not more than three times the size of the modest 5 incher Peter had before his wimpy clitty shrunk down to a tiny, useless little nub that couldn't even get hard for one of New York's top models! The leaking head of that delicious cocktip just barely slipped out from his boxers amidst him suiting up, revealing a fist sized crown that would easily stretch out Petey's puffy little cockpillow lips and made his mouth water insatiably before he shook his head clear of those awful thoughts and pulled on his mask to hide his blush.

He was thankful for it too, because if him dressing up was bad, seeing Miles fully clad in that tight, form fitting spandex suit of his clearly made for a boy almost a foot shorter as his every obsidian muscle was damn near aching to burst free from that tight suit and leave his perfectly sculpted African studflesh flexing and tensing in the open air with every swing of those tough, brutish arms...

"Ay, earth to Pete? Are we going or not?" Miles broke through his mentor's fantasies with his firm, aggressive voice, hand steadied on Pete's shoulder and utterly dwarfing it as he pulled the older "man" back to reality, the two nodding before Peter tossed him a pair of web shooters with which Miles swung open the ventilation shaft and crawled in with a tight squeeze, soon followed quickly by his mentor before they burst out from the rooftop and swung away to the scene of the crime.

A part of pouty-lipped little Petey couldn’t help but feel relieved when he heard that tinge of awkward shyness return to Miles’ voice. He knew that some piece of his young, excited, optimistic protege was still inside that massive, magnificently muscled hunk… But, and he knew just how wrong this was, another part of him felt slightly annoyed. Where was the stud was just calling him a fat-assed bitch and a nasty little slut? Where was the bully that was just smacking around his humongous wobbling twerk-shelf? Where was the thug that was just threatening to take him out back and fuck his brains out? ‘YOU SHOULD JUST TEAR HIS PANTS OFF AND CHOKE ON THAT BIG BLACK COCK, YOU NASTY LITTLE WHORE!’, that voice, snarling like a feral beast in the back of Petey’s mind, it sent shivers rolling down his spine. It’s been growing even more aggressive these past few weeks, urging Petey to do the unthinkable and cheat on his precious MJ. He’s been resisting it as best he could, but with Miles here, staring back at him with those dark, gorgeous eyes, and that huge, heavy womb-wrecking rod bulging monstrously inside his pants, it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore just how badly he wants to give in…

Before Petey could start thinking too hard about their situation, the crime alert went off and thankfully broke the silent tension filling the room. Petey’s sleek, shiny black Symbiote Suit hugged him in the right places, cupping his squishy, clapping rump and making it somehow look even fatter and perkier, like it was just begging to get slapped by some big, dark, beefy hands. When Miles finally got done getting dressed, Petey couldn’t help but drool over all that mammoth-sized, gorgeously corded muscle bulging underneath his skintight suit; it made his cute little clitty just squirt thinking about peeling it off him and licking every inch of sweat and grime off those glistening, sable-skinned muscles like a greedy little cock-doll should.

“H—Huh? Oh! Right, let’s get moving.” Petey said with a soft sigh, licking his fat, pillowy lips, before web-slinging out of the lab with his protege in tow. The Spider-Men’s Symbiote enhanced speed and agility meant they got to the scene much faster than usual, and caught a group of tall, dark, gun-toting thugs robbing the finance and banking offices of OSCORP Tower. The entire building had been evacuated, except for the hostages. One thug was keep watch over the hostages in the manager’s office, while the others were stealing cash and valuables out from the main vault. Miles and Petey snuck in through the vents, keeping a silent, but watchful eye on the situation, before Petey finally came up with a plan of attack.

“I’ll handle the ones in the vault, while you take care of that one and get those hostages out of here. Then, you can meet me back here if I need some help. Sound like a plan?” At least Petey could still think straight while they were out fighting crime. With a nod, Petey crept out of the vent and maneuvered his way across the bank floor and down to the vault. Those gun-wielding, masked thugs had to have been at least twice petite little Petey’s size; tall, vicious-looking, African-skinned brutes, whose huge, hulking, vein-popping muscles were practically tearing their all-black outfits apart at the seams. Petey should’ve been focused on finding a way to get rid of the semi-automatic weapons they were carrying, but he couldn’t stop focusing on the other “blunt weapons” packed inside their pants. They didn’t look quite as hung as Miles, but goddamn did they have enough cock-meat to make a stallion envious! Maybe BLACKED was right and BBC Supremacy really was the future.

“Focus, Peter…” He whispered in that soft, girly voice of his, growing higher and sluttier by the minute. Petey shot his webs and managed to disarm the trio of frightening black thugs very easily. Their faces lit up with confusion and excitement when they spotted the small, outrageously curvy web-slinging slut standing behind them.

“Let’s not make things hard here, boys. How about you let that hostage go, and I promise not to knock any teeth out, huh?” All Petey wanted was to sound threatening… So why was he purring like a sex-kitten, voice trembling like he wanted to get absolutely railed? Those thugs didn’t look scared in the slightest, in fact, they started laughing right in poor, pitiful Petey’s face!

“I—I’m serious! I’m giving you five seconds to let that hostage go or else!” They just started laughing even harder, making Petey blush and let out a cute little whine. “S—Stop laughing at me! I—It’s not funny!”

"Sorry Princess, but whatever cosplay convention you think you're in was probably a few blocks down, this is the real deal, don't got room for some girl out of her head trying to play hero in some skimpy little suit like a goddamn hoe." One of the robbers jeered, his baritone voice sending a rumble through puny Peter's spine as he laughed alongside his crew, a few getting right back to business as they had their drill working through the vault like the girl in front of them was barely even a threat.

Attempting to fling his webs out to restrain the men, Pete found himself placed in an even more precarious situation as his dainty little wrists were locked by a pair of rough black hands clamping down on his porcelain skin. Fuck, his spider sense was going haywire again! Normally he'd catch such an open attempt like that five miles away, but these days, it was like his body didn't even register the blatant attempts at molestation by obsidian skinned bully brutes as a threat...

"Shit, who you even supposed to be shawty? Never seen Spider-"Man" wearing that sort of getup. Black and red maybe, but a white symbol with allat black spandex? You s'posed to be the BLACKED Spider-Man now, bitch?" The one restraining him joked, his friends laughing along as Peter winced and jolted against his grip, even with this new, tiny body of his, he had to be at LEAST 50 times stronger than a bunch of meathead pricks who barely even sounded like they'd made it through middle school, and yet he went weak in the knees being held back by them, like some deeper part of his subconscious was holding back his superhuman strength and leaving him open to...

WHAP!

A violent, toe-curling assault of a manly black palm on his symbiote covered PAWG rump, echoing out through the room with more force than any of the heavy artillery the men were packing could provide and instantly drawing their attention as their hulking cocks sprung up at the hypnotic sight of phat white booty meat begging to be pumped by a meaty black dick jiggling and quaking in the wake of an echoing smack.

"Hey uhhh...the boss said we shouldn't take any hostages with us, right?"

"Shit...I think she did. Ty, how long is that drill gonna take again?"

"'bout fifteen minutes."

"Shit, I don't know bout y'all, but that's good enough for me. Planning this fuckin' bullshit has been some hard work, a crack at some juicy spider booty is just what I fuckin' need." The criminals whispered and planned among themselves, one proudly asserting his clear intent to go further than any mere train molester or perverted New York pedestrian ever had since Petey grew his absurdly thick, spankable bubble rear, his heart thudding in his chest as he tried desperately to thrash against his attackers as the pull of a zipper hit his ears like a drumbeat signaling his final defeat...

Only to be suddenly stopped by the crackling symphony of bio-electricity and an epically powerful THUD of a thick, meaty, manly fist against some poor fucker's school that would easily leave him with ten years of physical therapy and a lifetime of crippling medical bills.

"Get the fuck off Pe...I mean, Spider-Man, you goddamn freaks!" A voice that Peter already recognized as Miles' new, booming, testosterone fueled voice instantly gripping the room and shaking the once careless thugs into action.

Not that any attempt at action bore any merit at this point. The poor souls were fucked the moment THE Spider-Man made his way into the room. After clearing out the hostages under his bold leadership, Miles was brimming with excitement for what awaited him, he'd been pent up for nearly an entire week now, and while he would have preferred to release that aggression with his giant studcock plowing the depths of a phat-assed fuckslut and blasting his virile swimmers inside of a warm, waiting, fertile womb...but punching in the heads of weaker, wimpier, inferior excuses of men was the next best thing.

With a single snap, an arc of hot blue lightning shot out like a striking fire from the heavens, instantly dispatching half of the thugs before they could even dare to aim their guns at him. He barely even had to flex those massive muscles of his and he'd already done more than twice the job Peter did...what a fucking stud~

If there was any doubt that whatever changes were occuring in them hadn't made Miles an even better fighter than before, he'd instantly broken through them with his next movements, the jolts of lightning beaming from his fingertips held a violent power that made every time they crackled and popped from his fists fill Peter with a mix of awe, fear and...arousal? His movements fast as a flurry of electricity and striking with a bone shattering force that sent his enemies flying each time a strike connected.

WHAM A poor thug's life was ruined by the cost of his medical treatments as Miles shattered his ribs with a brutal throw. Peter's sissy clit trembled at the sight.

KRAK~ A criminal was permanently paralyzed from the waist down as Miles struck into his face with a flying knee and made his brain jolt and rumble against his cracked skull. Peter panted and shivered like a bitch in heat, desperate to be bred.

SLAM! A no name assailant who tried to give himself up was shamelessly, unfairly CRUSHED by an open handed slap that slammed him into the titanium walls and mangled almost every bone in his upper body. He was one of the lucky ones, he'd make a mostly full recovery with a permanent scar and a slight limp in the span of five years. Peter was drooling behind his mask.

Had he ever, EVER, in all his eight years of crime fighting, been anywhere near as effortlessly efficient and brutally strong in dealing with a threat as Miles was just now? He already knew the answer...and this was only after ten months of having his powers! How much of a fighting machine would this brutish bull be in two years? Three? Eight? A vision of Miles stomping over the heads of every villain Peter had struggled with in his career and effortlessly dominating them, putting those pathetic wimps in their place like an absolute Super-stud flashed through Petey's mind, and it distracted him so much he could barely feel the buzz of his spider sense with so much of his focus directed towards his aching sissy clit of a cock...

"Pete, watch out!" Miles called, his orders slicing through Peter's daydream right as he looked back to find a gun cocked to his head, pointed and ready to fire with no time to react...or no time for Peter to react, given how Miles swung into action with an enraged swing kick right to the thug's chest, knocking him flat off balance as his spray of gunfire scattered against the ceiling and he scooped up Peter in his big, buff, beefy arms like a goddamn damsel in distress...bridal style no less, God, he never carried MJ like that until the fifth time he saved her. It was flat out unfair how much of a hunk he was being and he didn't even have to try…

"Hey...you alright there Pete? You're not hurt or anything, are you?" Miles asked, his voice made all the more dreamy by the genuine concern echoing through his every word as Peter stared deep, deep into those dreamy eyes of his...or as deeply as he could while they were masked by the eye slots of their masks…

Petey had never felt so… Helpless. It was like his body had a mind of its own, keeping him frozen in place, as those big, brutal hands groped, and squeezed, and smacked his massively fat ass-cheeks harder and meaner than he ever thought possible. Thank goodness Miles swooped in when he did, or Petey might’ve ended up riding a piece of mammoth-sized nigga-meat while those thugs got away with all that loot inside the vault.

Wrapped up in Miles’ powerful, ripplingly sculpted arms, Petey couldn’t help but feel like such a damsel in distress. His heart was pounding so hard, threatening to come bursting right out of his slender little chest, as his huge, studly protege held him even tighter; his concerned voice rumbling deep inside his mind, making Petey’s cute little clitty stand completely on-edge, leaking sweet, sticky fag-juices like crazy…

God his head just felt so fuzzy again… Like he couldn’t even think straight. Was the hostage even safe? Were those thugs really unconscious? Were the police on their way? Normally, Petey would be thinking about all of that, but right now all he could focus on were Miles’ dark, smoldering stare and full, chocolaty lips. Petey’s Symbiote mask opened up around his fat, pouty, gorgeously glossed lips, as he maneuvered himself out of Miles’ arms and locked his mind-bogglingly doughy legs tightly around the big, brawny black bull’s narrow waist. His arms locked around Miles’ sculpted neck, as he climbed up his tall, musclebound frame like an expertly trained mountaineer! Petey’s fat, jiggling, gelatinous wobble-meat was shaking harder and faster, BOUNCING and CLAPPING mindlessly in the air, as he pulled up the bottom of Miles’ mask and (without a word) pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss!

The fat-assed sissy started off slow, pushing in gently, licking and worshipping Miles’ fat brown lips, before diving in even deeper, forcing his tongue deep inside that addictively steamy maw, and whimpering like a starving little slut! Pint-sized Petey was shaking like a leaf, while the Symbiote Suit uncovered his ridiculously round, freckly globes of cheek-meat, and his sweet, syrupy cunny-slop made every relentless “PLAP” sound even wetter and sloppier than the last!

The fat-assed sissy started off slow, pushing in gently, licking and worshipping Miles’ fat brown lips, before diving in even deeper, forcing his tongue deep inside that addictively steamy maw, and whimpering like a starving little slut! Pint-sized Petey was shaking like a leaf, while the Symbiote Suit uncovered his ridiculously round, freckly globes of cheek-meat, and his sweet, syrupy cunny-slop made every relentless “PLAP” sound even wetter and sloppier than the last!

It wasn’t long before police and reporters from BLACKED Entertainment were on the scene, already snapping pictures and videos of Spider-Man and his Spider-Slut tongue-fucking like a couple of horny teenagers! Petey didn’t care, and he certainly didn’t stop. In fact, he drove his fat, juicy tongue into Miles’ mouth even harder, sealing his lips around the bigger, stronger, sexier Spider-Man’s and never once pulling back! The lack of oxygen going to brain was starting to make him feel all woozy, but that just made Petey finally coax Miles’ big, mean tongue out of his mouth and fuck it ravenously for all the cameras to see; drool dribbling down his chin and neck, caking his masked face, while Petey groaned so deep that he sounded like a beast in heat!

While Peter was much too embroiled in tasting the perfect lips of his hero, Miles, as much as he was embroiled in the epic sensation of his mentor's freckled assfat jiggling massively in his grip, had enough awareness to blink an eye open at the interruption of cameras clicking right as their lips locked in desperate, frenzied desire, panic shooting through him as he swung away with Peter trapped in his bulging biceps like he never wanted to leave, the pair crashing through the nearby window and leaving OSCORP tower in disarray as the camera crew burst into celebration at the fabulous money shot they'd got.

Miles' heart was beating at a mile a minute, his cock pulsed hard enough to nearly burst through his outfit while adrenaline flooded his veins and saturated his bloodstream, helped in no small part by Peter still clamoring over him and nuzzling his puffy lips against his like a starving sex kitten desperate for her owner's affection and making it that much more difficult to focus on navigating with a boiling desire to slam all 20 inches of rock solid black cockmeat raging in his suit inside of that bouncy boy booty he had his hand firmly placed on.

Panting for breath, he opted to perch the two of them high above the street where no one would think to look for the pair, landing near the very apex of the Chrysler building and instantly pushing his tongue back into Peter's hungry maw, now on top of him as his strong, beefy hands roamed across those wide, womanly hips, treating his mentor like a newlywed bride brimming with passion and begging to be claimed by the only man she'd ever need as they just barely stopped to catch their breath, reality crashing in on each of their lust driven minds as Miles rolled over and let that heaving, studly chest of his rise and fall rhythmically in the air as he gasped aloud.

"What...what the fuck was that, Pete? I mean...I didn't...not like it, but you...you just, you kissed me man, I'm pretty sure there were pictures too, what if there's an article...oh no." Miles was stopped amidst his stammers of surprise as his phone buzzed in the hidden compartment of his suit, dragging it out after a decent amount of time spent rummaging through the suit and dragging his mask up to reveal those deep chocolate eyes wincing with surprise before he flashed the screen to Peter, a sordid, unashamedly clickbaity title accompanying a picture perfect shot of the pair's sensual embrace that might as well have been caught on 4K...hell, if Miles had scrolled to the bottom of the article, he'd have found a paywalled link to a video of the entire thing in that very video, which no small number of BLACKED afficionados had already bought into for a look at New York's finest heroes sexed up and ready to blow off some steam after a hard won fight.

Spider-Man's Blacked widow? Everything to know about New York's beloved webhead, now confirmed to be a BBC stud, AND his newest Queen of Spades lover The title read in big, bold letters, a staple of the sensationalized media juggernaut that was BLACKED Entertainment, the sheer speed at which they'd managed to push out that article making it all the more mortifying as Miles couldn't help but chuckle with amusement thinking they'd mistaken him for the original Spider-Man and Peter as some...newbie crime fighter riding off his coattails (and riding his juicy mammoth cockmeat for all it was worth).

But still, he couldn't deny that a part of him enjoyed that, how he beat down those thugs and protected Peter, the glossy look of utter admiration in her...his eyes when he saw his savior up close, so adoring, so worshipful, as though the poor spider-sissy was completely hypnotized by a primal desire to give themselves up to the beefy brute that proved powerful enough to protect her from the dangers of the world...

"I...I'm not saying it was bad, but I mean, I...I'm kind of with Hailey and it's- It's complicated, I guess..."  Miles said, looking back at Peter as his back arched against the building, the beaming lights of the Chrysler building twinkling softly as the sun slowly dipped over the horizon and accentuated the hourglass figure of Petey's petite, yet enormously curvaceous body, his chest peaking like soft, perky, budding A-cup tits that begged to be groped and caressed by strong, manly hands, a desire that Miles didn't deny himself as he lost his words and let his hands fold over Peter's chest, his puffy bottom lip quivering softly as they inched closer and closer to one another, mere inches away from finding one another's lips again right before a crime alert buzzed like a bad joke, alerting them to a simultaneous mugging taking place with yet another attempted hijacking of an OSCORP convoy by a "hooded figure" .

"Let's just...call hold on talking about this? Maybe split up to cover more ground...and to think about whatever this was?" He suggested, pulling his mask back down while Peter snapped away from his lovestruck reverie, too embarrassed to speak as his heartbroken gaze followed Miles diving off the building before zipping away, following the siren symphony of police squad cars in the distance following an OSCORP truck only a few blocks away...Norma Osborne was definitely not having the best of days, was she?

Petey could still hear that ravenous growling growing louder and more feral in the darkest recesses of his lust-addled mind. It was demanding that he let his inner slut out. Commanding him to finally put an end to this charade, to stop pretending to be a straight man, and finally admit to himself just how good it felt to be a sissy! Petey didn’t dare stop kissing Miles, not even as photographers were snapping shots of his furiously wobbling shelf of fat, freckly twerk-meat. The feeling of Miles’ bigger, stronger, meaner hands sinking into all that deliciously doughy wobble-meat, smacking, squeezing, jiggling that perfectly perky rump of bubbly sissy-boi booty was enough to make Petey’s adorably small, slender clitty just erupt with pleasure; the skintight, living Symbiote Suit enclosed around his insanely luscious, thick-hipped body just getting doused in wad after wad of Petey’s sticky, sugary femme-cum, as Miles finally bolted out of OSCORP Tower before the BLACKED reporters had a full-fledged sex-tape on their hands!

Standing on top of the Chrysler Building, wrapped up in Miles’ powerful arms, a lovesick Petey couldn’t help but feel like such a damsel. His heart ached for Miles, like just a single word from those gorgeous chocolaty lips were enough to send him over the edge. The way those massive, muscly hands roamed over his wide, childbearing hips; the way he grabbed him by the back of the head; the way his tongue forced its way even further down Petey’s throat; every sensation made the cute, bottom-heavy super-hero want Miles to drive that throbbing pillar of grade-A ebony monster-meat deep inside Petey’s tight, gushy, greedy pink fag-cunt.

But then… Miles pulled away, and reality started to sink in again. Petey’s expression went from one of dazed, delirious joy, to absolute fear and anxiety. He almost looked sick to stomach. Oh god, what would Mary Jane say when she found out? Petey just CHEATED with a teenager! This was BEYOND WRONG! Even as he was scrambling his brain, thinking about the disappointed look on MJ’s face when she sees him tongue-kissing his protege on the front page of the BLACKED Media website, he didn’t dare move out of Miles’ strong, protective arms. It just felt so right, felt so safe, felt so… God, Petey wanted to kiss him AGAIN! Just one more couldn’t hurt right…?

“GO ON. DO IT. YOU KNOW YOU WANT. YOU’RE JUST A STUPID SLUTTY SISSY ANYWAY, PETEY. YOU THINK MARY JANE STILL SEES YOU AS A MAN? YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A FUCKING PUSSY-BOY. A CUNT FOR A REAL MAN TO BREED. SUBMIT. SUBMIT. SUBMIT.”

Petey trembled excitedly as Miles groped his soft, budding breasts; letting out the sweetest, sluttiest moans, while he threw his head back in pure ecstasy. He nibbled on Miles’ fat black bottom lip, practically begging for another life-changing kiss, before they were once again interrupted by the crime alert… The part of Peter that still believed in being a hero forced him to pull back, letting out a long, exhausted sigh, as he slowly nodded in agreement.

“Right… I’ll talk to you later, Miles. Stay safe.” He said, flashing a weary smile, before covering his heavy, freckly bubble back up and swinging off into the sunset…