Spiderman Fic: Fruition
Title: Fruition
PairingPeter/Mary Jane
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The first time it happened, Mary Jane just smiled that infinitesimal smile of hers, said, "Go get 'em, Tiger," and Peter was out the window, swinging his way to the three-alarm blaze on the other side of town. She didn't mind. She knew he'd come back to her.
Author's Notes: It's a first time PWP set after Spiderman 2, so it's spoilerish for both movies. It's also overly sentimental and not the kind of idealized sex I was going for, oh well. Written for a request at fic_on_demand on LJ under the pen name of Indelible Fancy.
Fruition
The first time it happened, Mary Jane just smiled that infinitesimal smile of hers, said, "Go get 'em, Tiger," and Peter was out the window, swinging his way to the three-alarm blaze on the other side of town. She didn't mind. She knew he'd come back to her.
Two days later, they settled into a comfy nest of pillows and blankets on the floor of Peter's grubby, shoe box of an apartment to eat Chinese takeout and learn each other's ticklish spots. Before long, Peter sat up from his exploration of her navel with an oddly concerned expression. Fourteen seconds later, the whole building shook and Peter was on his way to the derailed subway car to help dig out survivors. Mary Jane didn't have to tell him to go. He didn't even wait for her to say goodbye.
A week and a half later, once Peter's finals (and that whole Carnage/Shriek/Carrion mess) were over. Mary Jane had him over to her new place to 'nurse him back to health.' That evening was interrupted, by an overnight bank robbery, just after Peter had made comment about how nice light blue lace looked against Mary Jane's skin. Mary Jane drank the rest of the Chianti by herself and washed it down with some rocky road, while contemplating how this was becoming a pattern.
Nine more times that month they planned for romantic evenings or afternoons or mornings (3 a.m. anyone?). Somehow, no matter how carefully they laid their plans, someone or something got kidnapped or robbed or blown-up just as they were getting somewhere, anywhere, good. Finally, Peter resorted to mathematics.
"You see, M.J., I inputted all the recent crimes in the city and plotted them on this chart. Then, I rated the crimes in severity from one to ten taking into account both injuries and property damage. Now all we have to do is plan our dates during off-peak hours and we're sure to have a few uninterrupted hours. See, I told you 3 a.m. wasn't a bad idea. It was just that one night. I mean really, how often is a school bus full of nuns and orphans going to be driving off a bridge at that hour?"
"That does seem like a one time thing doesn't it?" M.J. agreed and wrinkled her nose at him cutely.
Apparently, those nuns weren't the only night owls in the city. Once Peter and Mary Jane had decided on 3 a.m., criminal activity at that hour spiked.
Another few weeks later, they decided that maybe they were trying too hard. A good opportunity to spend alone time had to present itself eventually, so they stopped planning to be alone and just tried to share a meal at least once a day. Sometimes they even got to the dessert course. A month later, they managed to have a quiet dinner with Aunt May to christen her new one bedroom in the new seniors' building out in Brooklyn. Peter even had time to see M.J. home. He kissed her goodnight before going walking home whistling.
If you didn't count the gods conspiring against them to keep Little Peter lonely, things between Mary Jane and he were going extremely well; they liked all the same music, he's seen most of her latest play, they never fought and well, the sex was . . . Peter was sure it was going to be great if they ever got to it. The sparks were definitely there. He'd just decided to turn around and knock on M.J.'s door (maybe she's already in her nightgown), when he heard the sirens. So much for that.
The whole situation wouldn't have been so tasking if being alone -the really good kind of alone, wasn't so momentous. Even when M.J. had been engaged to John Jameson, she'd been in love with Peter, so she'd put John off, asking to wait until after the wedding that never happened. All that is to say that she'd loved Peter for years and he'd loved her forever. So, this first time between them, if it ever happened, would be a first for both of them. Rushing it would have been wrong on so many levels.
At about three months into their relationship, Peter began to doubt that it was ever going to happen. Yes, they kissed and cuddled and groped, but the untimely interruptions were still as untimely as ever and so he still went to bed alone on the nights he was able to go to bed at all. Then Mary Jane was asked to audition for a part in the West End of London, which she got. They made do with long, dirty, transatlantic phone conversations. She was there forty-three days before the producer's funding dried up and the show closed before it opened.
When she got back to New York, Mary Jane lost it completely. "Take me with you!" she blurted out one evening, clutching Peter's arm as he stood up to go, unresisting, to the siren's song.
"What?" He looked back at her astonished.
"Take me with you. Maybe I can help," she offered.
"Mary Jane, how could you help?"
"I don't know, call for backup, be a second set of eyes, be a frickin' cheerleader, I don't care, anything you need, just let me come along," she pleaded.
"I can't," he said in that small voice he got when his heart hurt. "I can't knowingly bring you into a dangerous situation. I'd have to protect you, which might divide my focus too much. Somebody could get hurt. You could get hurt." Then he pulled away and left.
Four days later, Peter showed up with flowers, chocolates, two round trip tickets to Hilton Head Island, which he wouldn't tell M.J. how he paid for, and an apology. He missed the plane saving a cat from a tree. He called M.J. and told her to get on the plane anyway and he'd find a way to her and he would have if he hadn't been waylaid by a new villain. Peter did manage to get there before the weekend was out, but that sleepy little island wasn't so sleepy anymore and they were back at square one.
A solution finally presented itself after Spiderman followed the Hobgoblin to Gotham City and crossed paths with Batman and Robin- his local equivalents. The three of them foiled the Hobgoblin's fiendish plot, after which Batman had made a speedy exit and left Robin to finish up the minor details.
"So, Robin, where'd Batman go in such a hurry? Another crisis?" Spidey asked as they sat waiting for the local authorities to arrive and take custody.
"More like a hot date. He's quite the social butterfly, er . . . social bat, I guess," the Boy Wonder responded.
"He's got time to date?" Peter asked, jealously astounded. "I can't get more than ten minutes alone with my girl back home."
"Yeah well, that's what sidekicks are for, right? So he can still get his kicks on the side," Robin told him flippantly.
"Hmmm . . . Do you think maybe he'd let you come for a visit to New York?" Peter asked hopefully. "I mean, I could use a little, uh . . . time off. That is . . ." Peter added, sheepishly pink.
"I'll talk to Bruce. I'm sure he can do without me for a couple of days."
"Oh man. You have no idea how great that would be."
So, two weeks later, Peter Parker's friend from Gotham, Dick Grayson, came to stay the weekend and Spidey got a few days off while Robin kept the forces of darkness at bay in the city that never sleeps.
***
"You're sure?" Mary Jane asked again when Peter had explained that they really did have all night together.
"M.J. I'm totally sure. I've got it covered," he assured her.
"All right?"
"All right."
"So."
"So . . ."
"How about some wine?" she finally offered.
"Sounds good." She poured two glasses and held hers up to make a giggly toast, "To Robin, your loaner sidekick."
"To Robin. Let's hope he likes his stay and wants to visit often."
"Peter!" She gave him a reprimanding slap on the arm.
"Mary Jane." He teased in the same rebuking tone of voice and they sat down to leftover Tai food.
***
After dinner, Mary Jane served a special dessert.
"Uh, Mary Jane?"
"Yes, Peter?"
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked.
"It's a cake. They sell them for kids birthday parties," she explained, holding back a laugh.
"But, jeeze, it's got Spiderman on it!"
"I like Spiderman."
"Well, I sure hope you like Spiderman but, it's a little weird, don't you think?"
"Yeah, well, that's the fun." She scooped a bit of icing up on her fingers. "You want to taste the fun, Peter?"
"Okay." He leaned forward to take the offered fingers in his mouth but she pulled them back at the last minute and ate the dollop herself before dancing away from him laughing. He considered chasing her, but that was what she expected, so instead he counted to ten and then spun a web from across the room binding her up just enough that she couldn't run. She started to stumble, but he shot another web out to catch her.
"Aah! Peter, you let me go, you big brute!" she shouted as he pulled her hand over hand by the silken strand between them.
"Come into my parlor," he murmured huskily as she got near to him.
"It's my parlor we're in, you know," she answered.
"A minor detail," he whispered and pulled her close.
"Peter," she sighed and they were kissing, soft and gentle, then hard and vicious, Peter unwrapping Mary Jane from the web and walking her backwards towards her bedroom door.
***
Mary Jane lay beneath him, warm and alive and breathless. Her shirt buttons popped open- one, two three, four. Her shoulder and the lacy edge of her bra slipped into view. Her neck tasted of lilacs and icing.
"Oh Peter." He explored the valley of skin between her breasts, then popped the clasp open and tasted the soft, pink round and peak of her nipple, sweet under his lips, his tongue. He licked his way down her body.
"M.J., I've been doing some reading," he said against her navel.
"Could you focus on the task at hand?" she teased.
"I am, I promise. I've been reading about sex."
"I'm not sure I want to know about this. Maybe you should just keep them under your mattress and we'll pretend I don't know about them."
"Not that kind of reading." He slipped her panties down just an inch to taste the hollow of her hip as she whispered his name again and dug her pretty fingers into his hair.
She caught her breath just enough to say, "Oh," she squeaked, cleared her throat and tried again, "Oh, what kind of reading?"
"Kama Sutra, Joy of Sex, other instructional type of . . ." She wrangled one of her feet between his legs and rubbed it against his fly making him lose his train of thought.
"Oh really? So, learn anything interesting?" He pulled her panties all the way off and kissed the inside of her knees before slinging one over his shoulder and leaving a string of pearled kisses down her thigh.
"A few things, yeah." He buried his face in her floral saltiness, nipping at the moist soft folds of flesh, suckling her clit and sliding a finger inside her causing her to shudder.
"Oh Peter." He slipped two more fingers inside her sweet slickness and found a rhythm that made her catch her breath again and again before she moaned her completion.
He moved up the bed and held her, sucking too hard at a spot on her shoulder to mark her as his, until she had come down from her peak. "So, you read about anything else you want to share?" she asked and stroked down his still clothed chest with her hands, finding buttons.
"Actually, I did." He rolled over to pin her to the bed and began rocking against her, a knee wedged between her legs in just the right way for both of them.
"Bring it on, web-boy!" she dared and clutched at his hips, urging him on, loving the rough brush of denim against her still eager center. He worked at the hickey some more. "M.J.?" Peter asked after she had really enjoyed herself again (amazing how his Spidey stamina translated really well to this).
"Mmm," she answered lazily, trying to get her hazy fingers to work the button on his fly. He snapped it open and she unzipped.
"Mary Jane," he said, taking her hands in his and looking her in the eyes. "Mary Jane, I don't want to hurt you."
Her face softened as she realized he was really worried about her, again. "Pete, you won't hurt me. I know you won't."
"But, it's your first time. Everything I've read has said that it's gonna hurt you."
"Hey, Pete. I know you and I know my body. Yes, there might be some pain, but you . . . You'll make it at little as possible and then you'll make it good afterwards. I know you will."
"I just want . . ."
"Shh. Pete, I trust you."
"Okay."
"So, let's get rid of these jeans already."
"Hey, you didn't mind them so much earlier," he teased, and rubbed his thigh against her again. She pushed him off and determinedly pulled and pushed on his pants and briefs until he was naked. They lay together a few minutes, kissing and touching: face and hair and neck, arm and breast and nipple, belly and hip and thigh. Peter slipped three fingers inside her again, making sure she was still warm and wet and ready. Mary Jane rolled away and opened the bedside table to get a little foil wrapped package.
"You're sure?" he asked again.
"Completely," she answered again and he carefully rolled the condom on, making sure to leave space at the tip. (He'd read the instructions on the package of condoms still in his jacket pocket at least a dozen times. He wasn't going to get this, any of this wrong.) "Pete, come here, please," she asked, coaxing him back on top of her.
They kissed a moment more, slow and gentle, to reassure each other. Then M.J. put one leg on either side of Peter's and kissed him hard.
"Yes?" He had to be sure.
"Please, Peter, please." He brushed the tip against her, lined up and pushed in, torturously slow. After a few seconds, she gasped and he felt resistance.
"Should I stop?" he asked, worried.
"Don't you dare, Peter Parker," she warned. "Just give me a minute to get used to you."
"Okay." They lay still which was maddening for Peter because he was so close to it, to her. He had to think about quantum theory to keep from thrusting into that hot, wet, tight bliss.
"Peter?"
"Umm?"
"What was that about Max Planck?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing." She began to give little thrusts, making him want to plunge into her. "Mary Jane, don't. I can't take it."
"Then don't, take me," she challenged.
"Oh." He pushed in a little further and she groaned again. He stopped.
"Don't stop, do it, please, all at once, Peter, please, please." He wanted to stop himself, wanted to keep going slowly, but there was only so much he could take. He thrust, propelled by his need and her words, not stopping until he was deep inside her. She gave a shocky little moan and closed her eyes.
"Is that, are you all in?" she whispered shakily.
"Yeah. Are you all right?" The fine thread he was holding onto wearing thin.
"Yes, just give me a minute." Peter recited the Periodic Table of the Elements which worked until he got to titanium and her remembered how it was spelled tit-anium, which reminded him of how Mary Jane's had felt in his mouth and he thrust despite his best effort. She bucked along with him, the pain fading, something much different starting to take over. "Yes. Oh Peter, more," she gasped and worked at speeding his pace. Two deep, hard thrusts later, he spiraled, coming in fast irregular pushes getting Mary Jane close enough to feel just how good this was going to be the next time they did it, but leaving her unfulfilled.
After a moment, he pulled out of her, burying his face in her breasts until he could speak. "I'm sorry. Did it hurt too much?" he asked, still worried.
"No, Pete, it was good. Better than I expected." She stroked his ear and kissed the top of his head.
"Okay, I'm just gonna go clean up." He left the bed and went into her small bathroom. When he came back, he laid down beside her, kissed the mark on her shoulder and said, "It really was okay?"
"Yes, it really was okay."
"But you didn't, you know . . ." he shrugged, too shy to say the word.
"Peter, I did, twice, just not when you did. And, that's fine. We're good."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, just hold me a while."
"Mary Jane, I'll hold you forever."
"Promise?"
"I Promise."
PairingPeter/Mary Jane
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The first time it happened, Mary Jane just smiled that infinitesimal smile of hers, said, "Go get 'em, Tiger," and Peter was out the window, swinging his way to the three-alarm blaze on the other side of town. She didn't mind. She knew he'd come back to her.
Author's Notes: It's a first time PWP set after Spiderman 2, so it's spoilerish for both movies. It's also overly sentimental and not the kind of idealized sex I was going for, oh well. Written for a request at fic_on_demand on LJ under the pen name of Indelible Fancy.
Fruition
The first time it happened, Mary Jane just smiled that infinitesimal smile of hers, said, "Go get 'em, Tiger," and Peter was out the window, swinging his way to the three-alarm blaze on the other side of town. She didn't mind. She knew he'd come back to her.
Two days later, they settled into a comfy nest of pillows and blankets on the floor of Peter's grubby, shoe box of an apartment to eat Chinese takeout and learn each other's ticklish spots. Before long, Peter sat up from his exploration of her navel with an oddly concerned expression. Fourteen seconds later, the whole building shook and Peter was on his way to the derailed subway car to help dig out survivors. Mary Jane didn't have to tell him to go. He didn't even wait for her to say goodbye.
A week and a half later, once Peter's finals (and that whole Carnage/Shriek/Carrion mess) were over. Mary Jane had him over to her new place to 'nurse him back to health.' That evening was interrupted, by an overnight bank robbery, just after Peter had made comment about how nice light blue lace looked against Mary Jane's skin. Mary Jane drank the rest of the Chianti by herself and washed it down with some rocky road, while contemplating how this was becoming a pattern.
Nine more times that month they planned for romantic evenings or afternoons or mornings (3 a.m. anyone?). Somehow, no matter how carefully they laid their plans, someone or something got kidnapped or robbed or blown-up just as they were getting somewhere, anywhere, good. Finally, Peter resorted to mathematics.
"You see, M.J., I inputted all the recent crimes in the city and plotted them on this chart. Then, I rated the crimes in severity from one to ten taking into account both injuries and property damage. Now all we have to do is plan our dates during off-peak hours and we're sure to have a few uninterrupted hours. See, I told you 3 a.m. wasn't a bad idea. It was just that one night. I mean really, how often is a school bus full of nuns and orphans going to be driving off a bridge at that hour?"
"That does seem like a one time thing doesn't it?" M.J. agreed and wrinkled her nose at him cutely.
Apparently, those nuns weren't the only night owls in the city. Once Peter and Mary Jane had decided on 3 a.m., criminal activity at that hour spiked.
Another few weeks later, they decided that maybe they were trying too hard. A good opportunity to spend alone time had to present itself eventually, so they stopped planning to be alone and just tried to share a meal at least once a day. Sometimes they even got to the dessert course. A month later, they managed to have a quiet dinner with Aunt May to christen her new one bedroom in the new seniors' building out in Brooklyn. Peter even had time to see M.J. home. He kissed her goodnight before going walking home whistling.
If you didn't count the gods conspiring against them to keep Little Peter lonely, things between Mary Jane and he were going extremely well; they liked all the same music, he's seen most of her latest play, they never fought and well, the sex was . . . Peter was sure it was going to be great if they ever got to it. The sparks were definitely there. He'd just decided to turn around and knock on M.J.'s door (maybe she's already in her nightgown), when he heard the sirens. So much for that.
The whole situation wouldn't have been so tasking if being alone -the really good kind of alone, wasn't so momentous. Even when M.J. had been engaged to John Jameson, she'd been in love with Peter, so she'd put John off, asking to wait until after the wedding that never happened. All that is to say that she'd loved Peter for years and he'd loved her forever. So, this first time between them, if it ever happened, would be a first for both of them. Rushing it would have been wrong on so many levels.
At about three months into their relationship, Peter began to doubt that it was ever going to happen. Yes, they kissed and cuddled and groped, but the untimely interruptions were still as untimely as ever and so he still went to bed alone on the nights he was able to go to bed at all. Then Mary Jane was asked to audition for a part in the West End of London, which she got. They made do with long, dirty, transatlantic phone conversations. She was there forty-three days before the producer's funding dried up and the show closed before it opened.
When she got back to New York, Mary Jane lost it completely. "Take me with you!" she blurted out one evening, clutching Peter's arm as he stood up to go, unresisting, to the siren's song.
"What?" He looked back at her astonished.
"Take me with you. Maybe I can help," she offered.
"Mary Jane, how could you help?"
"I don't know, call for backup, be a second set of eyes, be a frickin' cheerleader, I don't care, anything you need, just let me come along," she pleaded.
"I can't," he said in that small voice he got when his heart hurt. "I can't knowingly bring you into a dangerous situation. I'd have to protect you, which might divide my focus too much. Somebody could get hurt. You could get hurt." Then he pulled away and left.
Four days later, Peter showed up with flowers, chocolates, two round trip tickets to Hilton Head Island, which he wouldn't tell M.J. how he paid for, and an apology. He missed the plane saving a cat from a tree. He called M.J. and told her to get on the plane anyway and he'd find a way to her and he would have if he hadn't been waylaid by a new villain. Peter did manage to get there before the weekend was out, but that sleepy little island wasn't so sleepy anymore and they were back at square one.
A solution finally presented itself after Spiderman followed the Hobgoblin to Gotham City and crossed paths with Batman and Robin- his local equivalents. The three of them foiled the Hobgoblin's fiendish plot, after which Batman had made a speedy exit and left Robin to finish up the minor details.
"So, Robin, where'd Batman go in such a hurry? Another crisis?" Spidey asked as they sat waiting for the local authorities to arrive and take custody.
"More like a hot date. He's quite the social butterfly, er . . . social bat, I guess," the Boy Wonder responded.
"He's got time to date?" Peter asked, jealously astounded. "I can't get more than ten minutes alone with my girl back home."
"Yeah well, that's what sidekicks are for, right? So he can still get his kicks on the side," Robin told him flippantly.
"Hmmm . . . Do you think maybe he'd let you come for a visit to New York?" Peter asked hopefully. "I mean, I could use a little, uh . . . time off. That is . . ." Peter added, sheepishly pink.
"I'll talk to Bruce. I'm sure he can do without me for a couple of days."
"Oh man. You have no idea how great that would be."
So, two weeks later, Peter Parker's friend from Gotham, Dick Grayson, came to stay the weekend and Spidey got a few days off while Robin kept the forces of darkness at bay in the city that never sleeps.
***
"You're sure?" Mary Jane asked again when Peter had explained that they really did have all night together.
"M.J. I'm totally sure. I've got it covered," he assured her.
"All right?"
"All right."
"So."
"So . . ."
"How about some wine?" she finally offered.
"Sounds good." She poured two glasses and held hers up to make a giggly toast, "To Robin, your loaner sidekick."
"To Robin. Let's hope he likes his stay and wants to visit often."
"Peter!" She gave him a reprimanding slap on the arm.
"Mary Jane." He teased in the same rebuking tone of voice and they sat down to leftover Tai food.
***
After dinner, Mary Jane served a special dessert.
"Uh, Mary Jane?"
"Yes, Peter?"
"Is that what I think it is?" he asked.
"It's a cake. They sell them for kids birthday parties," she explained, holding back a laugh.
"But, jeeze, it's got Spiderman on it!"
"I like Spiderman."
"Well, I sure hope you like Spiderman but, it's a little weird, don't you think?"
"Yeah, well, that's the fun." She scooped a bit of icing up on her fingers. "You want to taste the fun, Peter?"
"Okay." He leaned forward to take the offered fingers in his mouth but she pulled them back at the last minute and ate the dollop herself before dancing away from him laughing. He considered chasing her, but that was what she expected, so instead he counted to ten and then spun a web from across the room binding her up just enough that she couldn't run. She started to stumble, but he shot another web out to catch her.
"Aah! Peter, you let me go, you big brute!" she shouted as he pulled her hand over hand by the silken strand between them.
"Come into my parlor," he murmured huskily as she got near to him.
"It's my parlor we're in, you know," she answered.
"A minor detail," he whispered and pulled her close.
"Peter," she sighed and they were kissing, soft and gentle, then hard and vicious, Peter unwrapping Mary Jane from the web and walking her backwards towards her bedroom door.
***
Mary Jane lay beneath him, warm and alive and breathless. Her shirt buttons popped open- one, two three, four. Her shoulder and the lacy edge of her bra slipped into view. Her neck tasted of lilacs and icing.
"Oh Peter." He explored the valley of skin between her breasts, then popped the clasp open and tasted the soft, pink round and peak of her nipple, sweet under his lips, his tongue. He licked his way down her body.
"M.J., I've been doing some reading," he said against her navel.
"Could you focus on the task at hand?" she teased.
"I am, I promise. I've been reading about sex."
"I'm not sure I want to know about this. Maybe you should just keep them under your mattress and we'll pretend I don't know about them."
"Not that kind of reading." He slipped her panties down just an inch to taste the hollow of her hip as she whispered his name again and dug her pretty fingers into his hair.
She caught her breath just enough to say, "Oh," she squeaked, cleared her throat and tried again, "Oh, what kind of reading?"
"Kama Sutra, Joy of Sex, other instructional type of . . ." She wrangled one of her feet between his legs and rubbed it against his fly making him lose his train of thought.
"Oh really? So, learn anything interesting?" He pulled her panties all the way off and kissed the inside of her knees before slinging one over his shoulder and leaving a string of pearled kisses down her thigh.
"A few things, yeah." He buried his face in her floral saltiness, nipping at the moist soft folds of flesh, suckling her clit and sliding a finger inside her causing her to shudder.
"Oh Peter." He slipped two more fingers inside her sweet slickness and found a rhythm that made her catch her breath again and again before she moaned her completion.
He moved up the bed and held her, sucking too hard at a spot on her shoulder to mark her as his, until she had come down from her peak. "So, you read about anything else you want to share?" she asked and stroked down his still clothed chest with her hands, finding buttons.
"Actually, I did." He rolled over to pin her to the bed and began rocking against her, a knee wedged between her legs in just the right way for both of them.
"Bring it on, web-boy!" she dared and clutched at his hips, urging him on, loving the rough brush of denim against her still eager center. He worked at the hickey some more. "M.J.?" Peter asked after she had really enjoyed herself again (amazing how his Spidey stamina translated really well to this).
"Mmm," she answered lazily, trying to get her hazy fingers to work the button on his fly. He snapped it open and she unzipped.
"Mary Jane," he said, taking her hands in his and looking her in the eyes. "Mary Jane, I don't want to hurt you."
Her face softened as she realized he was really worried about her, again. "Pete, you won't hurt me. I know you won't."
"But, it's your first time. Everything I've read has said that it's gonna hurt you."
"Hey, Pete. I know you and I know my body. Yes, there might be some pain, but you . . . You'll make it at little as possible and then you'll make it good afterwards. I know you will."
"I just want . . ."
"Shh. Pete, I trust you."
"Okay."
"So, let's get rid of these jeans already."
"Hey, you didn't mind them so much earlier," he teased, and rubbed his thigh against her again. She pushed him off and determinedly pulled and pushed on his pants and briefs until he was naked. They lay together a few minutes, kissing and touching: face and hair and neck, arm and breast and nipple, belly and hip and thigh. Peter slipped three fingers inside her again, making sure she was still warm and wet and ready. Mary Jane rolled away and opened the bedside table to get a little foil wrapped package.
"You're sure?" he asked again.
"Completely," she answered again and he carefully rolled the condom on, making sure to leave space at the tip. (He'd read the instructions on the package of condoms still in his jacket pocket at least a dozen times. He wasn't going to get this, any of this wrong.) "Pete, come here, please," she asked, coaxing him back on top of her.
They kissed a moment more, slow and gentle, to reassure each other. Then M.J. put one leg on either side of Peter's and kissed him hard.
"Yes?" He had to be sure.
"Please, Peter, please." He brushed the tip against her, lined up and pushed in, torturously slow. After a few seconds, she gasped and he felt resistance.
"Should I stop?" he asked, worried.
"Don't you dare, Peter Parker," she warned. "Just give me a minute to get used to you."
"Okay." They lay still which was maddening for Peter because he was so close to it, to her. He had to think about quantum theory to keep from thrusting into that hot, wet, tight bliss.
"Peter?"
"Umm?"
"What was that about Max Planck?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing." She began to give little thrusts, making him want to plunge into her. "Mary Jane, don't. I can't take it."
"Then don't, take me," she challenged.
"Oh." He pushed in a little further and she groaned again. He stopped.
"Don't stop, do it, please, all at once, Peter, please, please." He wanted to stop himself, wanted to keep going slowly, but there was only so much he could take. He thrust, propelled by his need and her words, not stopping until he was deep inside her. She gave a shocky little moan and closed her eyes.
"Is that, are you all in?" she whispered shakily.
"Yeah. Are you all right?" The fine thread he was holding onto wearing thin.
"Yes, just give me a minute." Peter recited the Periodic Table of the Elements which worked until he got to titanium and her remembered how it was spelled tit-anium, which reminded him of how Mary Jane's had felt in his mouth and he thrust despite his best effort. She bucked along with him, the pain fading, something much different starting to take over. "Yes. Oh Peter, more," she gasped and worked at speeding his pace. Two deep, hard thrusts later, he spiraled, coming in fast irregular pushes getting Mary Jane close enough to feel just how good this was going to be the next time they did it, but leaving her unfulfilled.
After a moment, he pulled out of her, burying his face in her breasts until he could speak. "I'm sorry. Did it hurt too much?" he asked, still worried.
"No, Pete, it was good. Better than I expected." She stroked his ear and kissed the top of his head.
"Okay, I'm just gonna go clean up." He left the bed and went into her small bathroom. When he came back, he laid down beside her, kissed the mark on her shoulder and said, "It really was okay?"
"Yes, it really was okay."
"But you didn't, you know . . ." he shrugged, too shy to say the word.
"Peter, I did, twice, just not when you did. And, that's fine. We're good."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, just hold me a while."
"Mary Jane, I'll hold you forever."
"Promise?"
"I Promise."