Fan Fiction Friday: Peter Parker in “Chalking it up to experience”

What with the Avengers being totally awesome, I figured I should try and bring us back to normal with an awful Marvel universe fic. I found this one by c0p13r — tell me if you think it does the trick.

Norman Osborn was back…

The beastly Green Goblin had returned, and was even more frightening than before, if that was even possible. The wealthy scientist knew exactly who Peter Parker was and threatened him to cease his double-life as Spider-Man. If not, well… There were few people in Peter’s life, and they were the dearest to his heart. If any one of them was harmed on his account, he would not survive the heartache. With that in mind, even standing next to Norman almost brought the cheeky web-slinger to an anxiety attack. He was forced to rush from his friend’s penthouse with bullets of sweat running down his body, and under the guise of the Spider-Man, he returned home, afraid for the future with this painful dilemma pressuring him…

He opened the door slowly, his blue backpack containing his costume hanging from his tight, left fist. Never had he been so distraught, even when humiliated by the Kingpin. This wasn’t a matter that he could fix by doing some spy work and stealing some security DVDs.

“How was your big limo ride, Mr. Rock Star?” Peter shouldn’t have been surprised that Aunt May was still up; she was acting like a hawk during his time being grounded and would stay up until he was home. Her green eyes didn’t move away from the bills she was paying to acknowledge her nephew.

In secret defeat, Peter plopped down next to his aunt on the couch and sighed, “Stank…”

Stank? Really? That’s the answer you’re going with? Is… is that foreshadowing? I hope that’s not foreshadowing. Let’s see, shall we?

She peered at him from the corner of her eyes with a slight grin. She thought that he was just having another teenage episode; she didn’t stop signing checks and playing with her calculator. “You okay?”

“Stank.”

“No.”

The paperwork was put on hold. “You didn’t have a good time with Harry?” When Peter didn’t answer, May’s face was drawn with concern. She turned her head slightly to him. He was a wreck; she hadn’t seen him like this since Ben was taken. She pursed her lips slightly and hummed in consideration. “I shouldn’t have made you go if you didn’t want to.”

As if he hadn’t heard what she had said, Peter grumbled, “I’m sorry about Saturday night. I- I didn’t mean to lie to you, Aunt May. I didn’t mean to.”

“Okay, okay. It’s your first girlfriend,” May reasoned while setting a hand on his bicep for comfort. “We’ll just chalk it up to experience.”

I’m starting to get a baaaaad feeling about this.

Peter turned to her. There were tears threatening to spill from his worried eyes, and his teeth clenched behind lips drawn downward. In a fit of emotion, he threw his arms around the only family member he had, surprising her. He would hug her for all he was worth if he knew he wouldn’t shatter her spine with his herculean strength. But it was enough to show her how much he cared for her and how much she meant to him. For all of her troubled worries, all of those pesky thoughts that made her believe that he cared for her only because he had to, he truly loved her like family.

Because… she was family. You don’t say things are like they already are. You’re just wasting valuable words that could be used for… actually, knowing what they’re probably going to be used for, you make as many meaningly similes as you want.

She returned the embrace with tenderness, breathing in his ear that it was all okay. “My little man,” she whispered, “there you are.” This was the boy she loved, not the troublemaker coming in at all hours of the night with a list of excuses and lies to try force-feeding her.

They pulled away from one another slowly, hands keeping contact with each other’s arms. May gingerly touched his cheek. Her soft hands… So warm… So loving…

Oh please god no.

Whose lips touched whose first? It wasn’t what either of them intended when going in, but passion was running wild. 

The passion between a teenage boy and his elderly aunt, just to be clear.

Both were under so much stress; they could not fight what was transpiring between them.

Oh, are they stressed? THEN THEY SHOULD GET A GODDAMN AQUARIUM OR SOMETHING. Do some yoga. Buy one of those squeezy stress balls or something. NOT FUCK EACH OTHER.

Peter’s sensible side screamed at him to stop this before he did something that he – and no doubt, Aunt May – would regret in just a few moments. That part of him needed to shut up. He needed this, if only to forget his worries and reveal how deeply he felt for his beautiful aunt.

For god’s sake, if you want to forget your worries and show Aunt May you love her, get black-out drunk and send her a goddamn Hallmark card. DO NOT FUCK HER.

Aunt May was no slouch. 

She had rheumatoid arthritis, sure, but… you know what I mean.

Normally the voice of reason, she now was giving into pure lust. She was Peter’s aunt as his mom’s sister; the same blood ran through both of their veins, yet she did not attempt to stop this. She had not felt this way about anyone but Ben Parker; now she was probing her nephew’s lips for access. Such a shy boy; it took quite a bit of insistence before he allowed her to taste the lingering flavor of his after-lunch chocolate snack. 

Is anyone else incredibly creeped out by the vagueness of “after-lunch chocolate snack”? Describing it that way — or rather, not describing it that way — seems so much more alien and sinister than “candy bar” or “Brownie Bites.”

 He wondered if she could also detect the slight bit of cherry-flavored lip gloss Mary-Jane had left during a kiss that did not hit its mark.

If it was on his lips, which May is apparently tongue probing, wouldn’t that mean MJ’s kiss hit its mark? Or was MJ going to give Peter a blowjob and just missed?

When aunt and nephew broke apart, they were breathless. Peter felt his heart fluttering in a way that was only matched by when he was with his girlfriend. 

His super hot, teenage model girlfriend that he could be fucking instead.

Stuttering, he stood up in front of the older woman, setting his hands on either of her shoulders. His eyes looked pleadingly into hers so that she may be strong enough to take charge and put an end to this impetuous and taboo act. “Aunt May, I think… We shouldn’t…”

“You’re old and frail and frankly, you reek of Bengay.”

She did not give him time to finish. Already, her surprisingly-nimble hands were at the crotch of his jeans, yanking down his fly in one, swift tug. He could have stopped her, used his powerful arms to restrain her before bolting up the stairs and locking himself in his room, ready to chalk this whole experience as a freak encounter, never to happen again. That was not what happened, however; jaw hanging and eyes fixed on May’s hands, he watched her work though the slits of the layers of clothes. She pushed aside the opening of his green and orange striped boxers to reach for the rigid prize underneath. With much relief on his part, his straining cock was freed from the confines of his pants, throbbing and thick with blood.

Looks like Peter…
/puts on sunglasses
…has an aunt in his pants.
YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH

Mildly surprised at his girth – he was significantly larger than Ben and every other man she had been with before – Aunt May undauntedly took him into her mouth after slickening the weeping head with a flick of her tongue. 

Obviously the role of Peter is not being played by Andrew Garfield.

“Oh, Aunt May!” Peter threw his head back, his brown locks waving.

Note: If you’ve ever made a sexual exclamation that used the word “aunt” in it, YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG. YOU ARE DOING IT EXTREMELY WRONG.

He’d never had experienced the wonders of getting head before, though Mary Jane had teasingly offered before when acting frisky while playfully reaching for his groin.

He might have gotten one if MJ had better aim.

And for being so old, May was good at it; great, even, though he didn’t have any experience to compare it to. 

Probably took her dentures out first.

He hissed through his teeth, struggling to peep through his partly-opened eyelids to watch the gray-haired woman rhythmically bob her mouth up and down his length. When her beautiful green eyes glanced up at him while his cock was still locked between her lips, he shuddered and feared his load would escape him.

As if sharing his concern for an early ejaculation, May pulled away from him with an audible slurp, running her tongue over her moist lips when he departed from her mouth. He pulsed eagerly for more attention, and she would not disappoint or keep him waiting for long. Her gaze never left him, even as she leaned back and began to undo the button and zipper of her tight jeans. 

Tight jeans? Bullshit. She’s wearing a pantsuit with a flower pattern on it and you know it, c0p13r.

While she began to rid herself of her lower clothes, Peter took a moment to admire her body. She may have been at the age when her hair was losing its color, but that just gave her a mature attractiveness. There were lines of worry and stress on her face, but it did not ruin her natural beauty, and her physique itself was amazing; no severe sagging anywhere. He blushed a bit when noticing that her breasts were still high, though that may be because of her bra.

Hey! Do you want to know what Aunt May’s vagina looks like?

Jeans and panties came down at once, revealing to Peter the first pussy that was not on internet. May’s vaginal lips were wet and ready to receive. 

Too bad. Hey! Want to knew her pubic grooming habits?

 The hair around it was trimmed to short, confined curls; it must’ve been for personal preference than visual appeal since Peter hadn’t even heard of her looking at another man after Ben – which he had been thankful for. 

TOO BAD.

Now here he was, standing before her with cock exposed and her pussy offered to him. He could not deny her. Under the circumstances, getting hard seemed strange, but he figured it was one of those ‘fear boners’ that had been joked about before.

“Fear boners” happens in front of things that are scary, but not things that are sexually repulsive, like your 70-year-old aunt’s vagina.

“Please, Peter,” May gasped, her bare legs hooking around her nephew’s waist. “I need you.”

“I need you like I need my social security checks!”

Who was being betrayed most: Uncle Ben or Mary Jane? 

Decency or social taboo? 

Peter was going to give his virginity to his own aunt, several decades older than him; he thought it would be to his beloved girlfriend, but, since donning the name of ‘Spider-Man’, he realized that nothing went according to plan. Unable to fight these primal urges with morality, Peter held his breath and managed his cock with his fist. When the blunt tip touched her lips, they both shuddered in anticipation, and it took a great deal of restraint for him not to surge into her snug wetness. “Aunt May, I don’t know if we should,” he wheezed in one last effort to get her to come to her senses.

I’m having difficulty thinking of clever things to say here, so I’m going to post pictures of Aunt May so you know how insanely awful and wretched this is.

In response, May locked her feet behind him. She would’ve preferred him naked rather than just having his penis protruding from the front of his pants. Her legs pulled him forward until he was unbelievably close to puncturing her. “Peter, just… just fuck me.” Wow… She cursed. Peter didn’t think that his prim, strict Aunt May ever cursed like that before. It was the final straw that snapped his moral restraints. Consequences and virginity be damned…

“Oh God…” Peter could not hold back when the swollen head pushed through her folds, leading the rest of his cock in to spread May’s tight and wet snatch. He slid in slowly until he bottomed out, pressing his pelvis against her crotch, though his pants were a bit uncomfortable; May made short work of that by flipping the button open and shrugging his jeans down. The boxers underneath, however, couldn’t be moved down while he was embedded in her pussy.

He pulled back a bit, but rushed right back into her, causing her to give a sharp cry. Worried that he didn’t check his strength, he asked if she was okay, if he was being too rough. “No,” she gasped heavily while shaking her head. “No, keep going!” Her hips gyrated to encourage him, and it helped greatly. Planting his palms on either side of her, he groaned and began to rock his hips in inexperienced thrusts that gradually gained some sort of rhythm. May, in any case, was overwhelmed with pleasure from having this youth pounding into her. One hand gripped at the cushiony backrest, her fingernails digging into the couch to the point of nearly tearing the fabric; the other hand went to her chest to grope the generous mounds.

Gathering up some courage, as well as being sexually curious, Peter pushed up the hem of his aunt’s purple shirt, marveling at how fit she was considering her age. With her help, her top was pulled over the hills of her breast; the cup supporting her right tit was pulled down by her admission, and Peter, frenzied and incredibly aroused while plunging in and out of her, dipped his face down to catch her hardened, pink tip in his mouth. Her left hand came up to tangle in his hair as he sloppily nursed on her nipple. Yep, he was a first-timer alright, but that was made up for by his enthusiasm and the sheer size of the cock inside of her.

He gasped and moaned her name when he doubled over, clenching his teeth and struggling to keep his testicles from bursting. He set a hand at the back of her thigh, just beneath her buttocks as he started to drive harder and harder into her. “Oh, God, Peter! It’s been so long!” All sense of time and worry faded from her mind as she was plowed into the couch. “Fuck me! Harder! Harder!”

“FUCK MY SOGGY WHEATCAKES!”

Of course, Peter could easily fulfill her request and pound her so hard that the sofa they were on would probably break underneath the force, which would also hurt her, no doubt. Sometimes, he feared that he really was losing control of his strength, but May never gave any complaints; her body just kept squeezing his shaft more and more until she finally came around him. Curling up and latching her fingers to the small of his back, her pink-painted nails digging into his skin, she wept his name and shuddered violently. “Please! Please, cum in me!” she cried out in a haze of orgasmic delight. “Cum in me, Peter Parker!”

Was she actually making the serious command of a legal guardian? 

Well, whatever the case, Peter wasn’t about to disobey her again. And with her speaking so lewdly, it did not take him long to reach his peak. He was surprised it took so long since it was his first time, but he could thank his spider-power endurance for that. He gave no coherent announcement of his completion, but he did throw his head back and yell at the ceiling, which was all the proof Aunt May needed. She flexed her inner muscles as best as she could in the aftermath of her orgasm, awaiting the rush of his seed. He erupted like a fountain in side of her, pounding against her one last time with bruising force that jarred her entire body. 

Thwip

She felt the familiar, liquid warmth of semen spreading throughout her lower belly to trigger another, less-significant orgasm. But, wow, her nephew must’ve been holding his load for quite some time; he came like a canon,

I really don’t think so.

flooded her womb, and his incestuous seed was unnaturally hot, almost as if… … radioactive? 

Someone needs to make me a photoshop of Toht face palming for this sort of situation. Or trying to, at least.

 Well, she couldn’t be bothered to question such things while basking in a release she was in desperate need of for so long; fingers could be no substitute for this.

After all, her fingers weren’t technically blood relatives.

Sighing heavily, spent and satisfied, Peter considered whether or not he should ask to remove himself; he didn’t know how encounters – especially ones as awkward as this – were properly ended. Was he suppose to snuggle next to her, or just go to his room and go to sleep and act like everything was normal the next day? Honestly, he would rather go to his lab in the basement and try to sort things out. Well, the initial plan had worked; he had forgotten what he was stressing over, for the moment anyway. Now a good deal of that stress was swimming around in his aunt’s womb.

If stress were actually semen, men would never be upset about anything ever.

Now that he had wilted, May’s convulsing vagina ejected his flaccid prick with a portion of his white seed. Wordlessly, he fell down next to her, and they both took a moment to collect themselves and reflect on the taboo they had just committed. Peter almost let a slip of the tongue request that Aunt May not tell Mary Jane about this transgression, but that was rather an obvious agreement. For now, he said nothing.

Next to him, Aunt May cleared her throat and reset her clothing, making herself proper; she would clean up appropriately when she took a shower before bed. Fixing her somewhat mussed hair while Peter awkwardly pulled his pants back up and tucked his wet cock away, she looked at him. She did a fairly decent job at acting like nothing terrible had just transpired between them; that naughty-mouthed woman was gone all too soon. “Are you okay, sweetie?” she asked finally, placing a hand on Peter’s back; he didn’t flinch, which was a good sign.

Deciding to do his best to follow her example, he tried to act casual. “Uh, it was a long day,” he managed to squeak out, his voice cracking as though he was still going through puberty.

“Sure…” Aunt May put her arms around him and cradled his head to her bosom. A time passed before she asked, “Did you eat?” 

“Do you want some hard candy? Or do you want to go to Denny’s? I can get the senior citizen’s discount there, you know.”

 Heh, she probably would whip up some late-night scrambled eggs like some kind of hippie. 

Some kind of filthy, elderly slut hippie.

 He politely declined and said that he was ready for bed. “Alright,” she consented without much of a hassle. She, too, was ready to turn in for a well-deserved slumber. But as her nephew dazedly began to drag himself upstairs, feet lazy and head drooping from tiredness, she scolded him with a stern finger, “And don’t think you’re off the hook, young man. You’re still grounded. Nothing’s changed my mind!”

Never fuck anybody with the power to ground you. Just… don’t.

Peter had to roll his eyes. A genius student, superhero, and now an aunt-fucker; and he still has to obey the laws of family discipline! Well, he would go down to the basement and tinker around a bit, maybe make a new batch of web solution. Hopefully he wouldn’t be disturbed down there…

THE END. Who wants wheatcakes?