Summary: Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy, lovers from two different worlds. Like any superpowered couple, there were bound to be bumps and worst of all, breaks. Miles knew guys looked at Gwen's ass when he wasn't looking. He knew half the men at their college campus wanted to sleep with her. But she wouldn't. She couldn't. With great power comes great responsibility.
Until Miles receives a video of his (ex) girlfriend getting railed by a big, fat cock and being proven wrong about her priorities.
**********
Gwen was pacing. Back and forth, barefoot on the creaky wood floor of her apartment, ranting about some professor who had piled on another essay right before finals week.
Miles wasn't hearing a word of it.
Or rather, he was — the rhythm of her voice, the sharpness of her tone, the occasional stomp when she emphasized a point — but his brain was split in two. One half was being a good boyfriend, nodding, half-smiling, letting her vent. The other half was laser-focused on how her white shorts rode up her ass each time she turned, how her hoodie hung loose but couldn't hide the way her hips swayed naturally.
Gwen spun again, blonde hair swinging, and Miles' jaw flexed.
God, she looked good mad. Snowbunny mind control? Nahhh. Gwen was just that bad.
"—and then he had the nerve to tell me 'time management is a skill'," Gwen went on, hands cutting the air. "Like, no duh, but maybe don't assign five papers at once? Do they think we're machines?"
Miles leaned back on the couch, letting her rant, his eyes sliding down the length of her legs as she crossed the room again. She was all lean muscle and dancer's grace, but still soft in the right places. Those right places being exactly what he couldn't stop staring at.
'Dat ass.'
He smirked, muttered under his breath, "Damn…"
"What?" Gwen spun mid-step, squinting at him.
"Nothing," Miles said quickly, hands up. "Go on, Professor Hater. I'm listening."
She eyed him suspiciously but resumed pacing, still ranting, still gesturing big with her hands. And when she turned again, he moved. Quick as a webshot, he slid off the couch, closed the gap, and smacked her butt with a clean, unapologetic slap.
The sound echoed.
Gwen froze mid-step, her back arched, a little yelp escaping before she twisted around, cheeks red. "Miles!"
He was already grinning ear to ear. "What? Stress relief. You looked like you needed it."
Her hands planted on her hips, trying to glare, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her, twitching upward. "You think you're funny."
"I know I'm funny," he shot back, hands raised in mock innocence. Then, unable to resist, he reached again, this time grabbing a playful squeeze.
Gwen gasped and swatted his shoulder, laughing despite herself. "You've got some balls on you, Miles Morales."
"You know I do." He leaned close, lowering his voice.
Gwen rolled her eyes but her smirk was undeniable now. "Then maybe we should empty them, hm?" She ran a finger ran down Miles' lips. Down, down, down, to his chest, to his abs...
Spider-Woman and Spider-Man, horny like any other couple.
Ding, ding, ding!
...interrupted by the phone call of the boyfriend's mother, just like any other couple. Miles sighed. Gwen sucked in a breath.
"Not good to keep her waiting," Gwen said, taking a step back.
"Yeah."
He took the call. It was a standard check-up, nothing special. Honestly, he should have just groped her ass and kept going. Fucked her while his mother was talking about delivering him food. Alas, he didn't and now the mood to fuck was gone.
Gwen needed to study. He needed to study. So ten minutes later, after a sigh and disappointed expression, Miles left his dorm.
'Next time,' he thought to himself, briefly realizing he had said that last week too.
***
The only thing worse than being a college student was being a busy college student. Worse than that, a broke college student. Miles was the second, only busy. Gwen was the lattermost, broke and busy.
Miles sat on the edge of his bed, laptop open, design sketches sprawled across his desk, but his eyes weren't on any of them. The cursor blinked on an empty Illustrator canvas like it was mocking him. He should've been grinding. He had deadlines to hit and commissions piling upbut his head wasn't there.
It was always Gwen.
He and Gwen had been together since high school, since they were awkward, starry-eyed sophomores figuring out what love even meant and trying to save the multiverse. She was his first kiss under the bleachers after band practice. His first everything, really—first hand to hold on the subway, first "I love you" whispered like a dare, first time tangled together in the dark, scared and excited in equal measure.
Now they were both second-years in college. Gwen shared a three-bedroom apartment with two other girls; it was always loud, chaotic, some random friend drifting in and out. Miles' parents didn't let him move out, they wanted him safe, grounded, and close to home. So he stayed, commuting, balancing classes, his job at a small graphic design firm, and the other part of his life. The one that came with bruises and excuses and late nights swinging across the city.
Anyway, more importantly than Spider-Man and Spider-Woman was the the new itch. Gwen had always been outgoing, always posting on Instagram: selfies in the morning light, mirror pics before class, boomerangs at parties. Miles would scroll through, double-tapping like a loyal boyfriend, but then he'd notice the comments. The DMs she'd let slip when he looked over her shoulder.
Heart eyes and flames and those kinds of comments:
< Damn!!!
< Baddie.
< Where you at tonight?
< Gwennn! u looking fine 👀
His chest tightened every time. He hated it, but he also… kind of loved it. The jealousy burned hot, but there was a strange thrill in it, imagining all those guys wanting her, hitting on her, thirsting after her and knowing she was his. That was power, wasn't it? That was validation.
Except sometimes, it didn't feel like that at all. Sometimes it just hurt.
The fights came fast. Stupid, little things that turned sharp in their mouths. Her finals, his job, and the arguments while they were out crime fighting. It was great to have a superhero girlfriend in some regards. In others, it could be downside. They were snapping at each other in ways they never used to.
Then one night, in her apartment, Gwen said it:
"We should go on a break."
Her roommates were gone, the room smelled faintly of popcorn and nail polish, and Miles felt like the floor tilted.
"Are you serious...?"
"Dead serious. This...you and me, it's..."
"Look, you're from another universe, it's going to take time."
"No. It's not just that and you know it." Gwen sighed. "A month. Just a month. To breathe. To figure myself out."
It hit like a brick to the chest. His girl—his Gwen—pulling away. But a dark, twisted voice whispered in his head: This is what you wanted, right? That thrill. The jealousy. You wanted to see how far it could go.
He hated that voice. But he listened.
The first month was hell.
He threw himself into Spider-Man, patrolling harder than ever. When that didn't fill the hole, he drowned himself in the gym, lifting, running, punishing his body until it ached. And every night, he fought the urge to stalk Gwen's socials.
He usually lost.
Gwen was posting more thirst traps than usual: short skirts, crop tops, poses that made his jaw tighten. He imagined the guys blowing up her DMs, sliding in with comments he didn't want to read. He imagined them at parties, leaning too close, brushing her arm, whispering things into her ear.
Especially Hobie. Damn bastard was close to her before they started dating. Hell, she stayed with him first.
And a sick part of him couldn't look away.
Then Halloween came.
He knew she was hosting a party. Her roommates had been hyping it up all week online. He wasn't invited. That stung worse than he thought it would.
So Miles tagged along to a different party with friends he wasn't even close with. Maybe he should sleep with someone. Like Margo Kess. She was kinda sort into him. Except he didn't. The young black man kept checking his phone, refreshing Gwen's Instagram.
Nothing. No stories. She'd hidden him.
He clenched his jaw, scrolling through a mutual friend's story instead, and there she was: Gwen. In a Spider-Woman costume. He almost laughed. That was the real costume but he bet everyone else thought otherwise. They didn't realize the real Spider-Gwen was among them.
'But damn...!'
Tight suit, white and pink, the hood hanging loose around her shoulders. She looked incredible.
Miles' chest thudded. His mind spiraled. That party was packed with football players, basketball guys, upperclassmen. He pictured them swarming her, drinks in hand, leaning into her space. He imagined her laughing, tilting her head, brushing her hair back.
One of them smacking her heart-shaped ass. Tight and farm, it was both bouncy and amazing at taking dick. Miles knew from experience.
Fuck. A bunch of basketball players gangbanging her, showing her bigger cocks for her to suck and fuck...
He shouldn't care. They were on a break. She had every right to live her life, to party, to do whatever.
But then his thumb froze.
It was a friend-of-a-friend's Instagram story. Bright orange glow from Halloween lights. Blurry videos of the party Gwen had been hyping up.
Gwen featured again.
The Spider-Woman costume was downright erotic. Why in the world did he allow her to wear something so skintight? Something that made her ass and her waist look slutty. White and pink, sleek fabric that shimmered under the blacklight. The mask was off, her blonde hair tied back in a loose ponytail, bangs sticking to her forehead from dancing. The suit hugged her tight curves, cut high at her hips, legs long and lean in the tights. Miles swallowed hard. His chest tightened.
God, she looked good. Too good.
He hated himself for feeling that same rush down his balls, for wanting her even while his stomach twisted. She arched her back in the photo, throwing up a peace sign, laughing with her roommates. Miles zoomed in like an idiot, jaw tight, eyes dragging down the lines of her body. The snug fabric framed her hips, her waist, her chest—
He clicked out, heart hammering.
But another story loaded immediately after.
This one punched harder. Gwen was lifted up in the air, balanced on the shoulders of two guys from the basketball team, their grins wide as they held her up like a trophy. Both were easily a head taller than Miles, built broad through the chest and arms, their jerseys stretched tight over muscle. She had her arms spread wide, laughing, shouting something the camera couldn't catch.
Miles felt his throat go dry.
He knew those guys. They were the ones always staring when she walked across campus. The ones who dropped fire emojis in her comments. Now they were touching her, holding her.
His thumb hovered, but he couldn't stop. Another video loaded. Gwen, sitting on the couch. Four dudes behind her. Three black men, one white. All big. All looming. She sat in the middle, mask off, smile bright, a red solo cup in hand. The angle of the video framed it perfectly, her petite body in front, the wall of men behind her.
Like the meme.
Miles' cock lurched in his pants. He was at a round table, alone while everyone else danced and partied. His pulse roared in his ears.
He told himself she was just hanging out. That it was a coincidence. But his brain twisted it. He saw the way they leaned close, the way their eyes tracked her when she laughed, how comfortable she looked there, how she didn't seem to mind being surrounded.
He imagined hands on her thighs. Lips at her ear. Her leaning into one of them.
Miles slammed his phone face-down onto the table, breathing hard. His dick was hard and hot, buzzing, half from anger, half from something he didn't even want to name.
"Fuuuck," he groaned.
His thoughts split in two directions. One side wanted to storm that party, tear those guys away from her, prove she was his. The other side… the darker side… played the scene over again, whispered what if she liked it? What if she wanted it? What if she was already—
"Hey, Miles, you good? You comin' to drink?" a friend asked.
Miles took a deep breath. He smiled and nodded. He started drinking with his friends. He partied. Hard. He blacked out before midnight.
The morning after, his head pounding, phone buzzing, Gwen's name lit up his screen. FaceTime.
Miles answered, voice hoarse: "Yo."
Gwen looked rough. Sitting in a car, hair messy, hoodie thrown over her costume, makeup smudged. She looked like—
His stomach dropped. 'She looks like she just had sex.'
"Hey," she said, smiling faintly. "How you feeling?"
Miles cleared his throat. "Hungover. You?"
"Fine. Just, uh—picking up medicine. I missed you."
No fucking way. No fucking way was she picking up Plan B. All he could think was who were you with last night?
Miles should have asked as a secure, young black man. Don't get hypnotized by the snowbunny, his uncle told him every other week. Sorry, Uncle Aaron. Miles smiled back. "Missed you too."
They kept it short. Sweet. She said she was okay, he pretended he believed her, and then she hung up.
Miles tossed his phone aside and buried his face in his hands.
He knew what he saw. Knew what his gut screamed. And yet, the twisted part of him, the part that had been feeding on jealousy for months, was alive, humming, hungry.
***
Two days after the party, Gwen texted him.
< Gwen: Miss you. Coffee?
Miles stared at the screen,. He should've played it cool, let her sweat a little. But he didn't. He texted back right away:
< Miles: Yeah, when?
An hour later, he was pulling up outside her place, hoodie over his head, sneakers barely tied. He told himself to chill, to breathe, to not look like a puppy desperate for scraps.
But then she stepped outside, his balls went tight.
Gwen looked… good. Too good. Fresh, glowing like she hadn't even been through the same break that gutted him. Hair up in a messy bun, little makeup, ripped jeans and a cropped sweater that showed just enough skin to drive him crazy. She slid into the passenger seat, smiled, and just like that, it was like no time had passed.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"You're looking good," he said.
"You too. Been hitting the streets?"
Code word for, "You've been getting more active as Spider-Man."
"Being alone can be convenient," he said. "But...the feeling of being in a team is a bit better, I think."
Coffee felt easy. Dangerous, but easy. They laughed, traded dumb inside jokes, teased each other like they used to. Miles leaned back, arms crossed, pretending he wasn't cataloging every detail: the way she sipped her latte, the way her knee brushed his under the table, the way she bit her lip when she looked at him.
'Snowbunny mind control, Miles. Don't get hit by it.'
He played it nonchalant. No pressure. But inside, he wanted to grab her hand and never let go.
Afterward, he drove her back to her apartment. She lingered when she got out, leaning into his window, that smile still on her lips. Then she pulled him into a hug, tight, like she needed it. And before he could even process, she kissed him.
"G-Gwen...?"
But enough to light every nerve in his body on fire.
"See you soon," Gwen whispered and she was gone.
He touched his lips. The door shut. All of a sudden, he thought about touching up his afro for next time.
Snowbunny mind control, complete.
***
That night, Miles was stretched out on his bed, staring at the ceiling, phone buzzing on his chest. Hobie.
< Hobie: Yo bro, what's going on?
< Miles: What's good?
Not even a minute later, Hobie was FaceTiming him. Miles groaned, thumb hovering, then accepted. The screen lit up with Hobie's face, dreads falling into his eyes, sprawled back on his couch with a guitar balanced across his lap.
"Wassup, bruv?" Hobie said, already suspicious. "You look mad weird. What, you finally fold and buy Crocs or somethin'?"
Miles shook his head. "Nah, I'm chillin'."
Hobie tilted his chin up. "So… funny thing. One of my boys was talkin' big at the pub earlier. You know how it is, drinkin', flexin', sayin' he pulled a baddie at some party."
Miles froze. His stomach tightened. He played it cool. "Aight…?"
"I ask him who, innit," Hobie continued, smirking. "He whips out his phone, shows me her IG. And bruv…" He leaned forward like he was telling some world-ending secret. "It was your Gwen."
Miles' chest clenched. He kept his voice steady. "Gwen?"
"Yeah, man. Spider-Woman herself," Hobie said with a grin. "The snowbunny with blonde hair and blue eyes."
Miles swallowed. His dick stirred in his pants. "You sure?"
"Positive. Same IG handle and everything. Looked just like her. Man was beaming like he hit the lottery." Hobie shrugged. "I bigged him up for a sec—'cause y'know, hot girl, respect—but then I realized who it was and dipped quick to call you."
Miles forced a laugh. "Right on for letting me know, bro. I'm chillin' though."
"A'ight man. See ya!"
The Facetime ended.
Chillin'? He wasn't chillin'.
Anger boiled hot under his skin, sharp and sour. His fists clenched until his nails dug into his palms. Jealousy clawed at him, eating him alive. The image of Gwen—his Gwen—with some random dude's hands on her, lips pressed to her neck, her back arching—
His breathing turned ragged. He wanted to punch something, scream, web up the whole damn city until his arms gave out.
But then the twisted part of him stirred again. That dark, ugly thrill.
The thought of her giving herself to someone else, then kissing him afterward, like nothing happened—it drove him insane. It pissed him off. But it also… turned him on.
He fought it. For hours, tossing and turning, teeth grit. His body burned with anger and something darker, messier. His imagination filled in every detail he didn't want. The guy's hands. Her gasps. The way she probably looked when—
Miles shoved his face into his pillow, groaning. "Nah. Nah. Chill."
But he couldn't. He couldn't shut it off.
Finally, with his whole body trembling, he gave in. He shut his eyes and let the images run wild. Gwen's voice, Gwen's body, Gwen with somebody else—but somehow, still his.
He jerked off and came three times that night.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck...!"
He had nothing to jerk off to but her IG posts. Her ass and her smile and those men...
Fuck, if she really did get involved in a gangbang, how was he supposed to compete? How was he...
Huh?
He received a message from an anonymous contact. "Weird..." He clicked on it and found himself face to face with a playable video.
The thumbnail alone caused his cock to resurge back into a full erection.
Miles sat on the edge of his bed, his phone trembling in his hand. The screen glowed brightly, casting a sickly light across his dark-skinned face. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the video that had just been sent to him.
'What the fuck is this?' he thought, his stomach twisting into knots. The thumbnail alone was enough to make his blood run cold — Gwen, his Gwen, naked, her head thrown back, her mouth wide open, her body glistening with sweat. And then there was some cock so fucking huge it looked like it belonged in porn, not in Gwen's tight little pussy.
He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the play button. 'This can't be real,' he told himself. 'It has to be some kind of joke.'
He clicked play.
Fortunately, it didn't start with her getting fucked. The video started with Gwen on her knees, her lips wrapped around a massive white cock. There was heavy breathing, no doubt from Gwen's nostrils. Already, this seemed cheap. This didn't seem like a gangbang.
His ex's blonde hair was messy, her blue eyes glazed over with lust as she bobbed her head up and down what must have been over eight inches of cock. Miles couldn't believe it. He wasn't small, he was close to six inches but this...
'Just how much dick is she taking down...?'
In the videos were "mmms" and gasps. Gwen was taking down nearly every inch of this mega-white python like a pro. A male voice soon introduced itself. "That's it, slut. Take it all. You fucking love this dick, don't you?"
What was Gwen's response to the allegations? To double-down. To use no hands and only deepthroat. Her hands solely gripped his thighs as she pushed herself deeper, gagging slightly. Her nose touched the pelvis.
Then she retreated. Inch by inch, she revealed the cock. Inch by inch, Miles wondered when it would end. Inch by inch, Miles realized this cock wasn't just long, it was girthy. On instinct, near the last inches, Gwen put her hands around the base.
Her fingers weren't connecting. There was THAT much cock.
"Mmm, yes...!" Gwen whimpered when she finally pulled off, gasping for air. "You, ngggh, You're so fucking big, Felix. I've never had a cock like yours before."
Miles felt his stomach drop. Felix. The name echoed through his mind like a fucking sledgehammer. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen, even though every frame felt like a knife to the chest.
The camera panned down, giving Miles a full view of Felix's cock — thick, vein-covered, and at least twelve inches long. 'Jesus Christ.' It was fucking monstrous, dwarfing Miles' own cock in comparison. And then there were Felix's balls, huge and heavy, and laying on the mattress like they were stuffed full of cum.
From the video's perspective, his cock stretched past Gwen's head. This was a perspective not unfamiliar to Miles, except his dick never went past Gwen's brow. This guy...
'His dick is literally longer than her head...'
Mental math: at least nine inches. Genius math: at least twelve inches.
And Gwen smiled, tucked a piece of hair over her ear, and sworded that foot-long monster.
Felix groaned, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. He didn't want her to just say, he wanted a bitch that would keep taking his dick. And she she did. "You're such a cock-hungry slut. Look at you, drooling over my dick like it's the only thing that matters."
Felix didn't give her time to adjust. He face-fucked her hard and fast, his balls slamming into her face. It was like everything was covered. Her expression twisted. If she wasn't Spider-Woman, this might have hurt.
He started cumming. His cum burst from her mouth.
The video ended.
As if knowing he was done with it, a second video was sent. Miles clicked play.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
Lewd claps of an ass getting pounded from behind. The gushing sounds of a pussy getting fucked and leaking desperately. A mad cock blurred in and out of her tight pussy.
The thumbnail from the first video. Whoever was sending this was taunting Miles on purpose.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"CUMMING, CUMMING, CUMMIIIING! I'VE NEVER CUM LIKE THIIIISSS!"
Those were Gwen's first words. Not, "Ah, you're doing so good," or "Mm, keep it up!" She was full-on screaming and begging for more. She was already well into being addicted to this newer, bigger cock.
The camera was shaky. The video obviously took place some time after the blowjob with Gwen on all fours and Felix fucking her from behind. His hands gripped her hips tightly as he pounded into her. It was then he noticed that she wasn't stripped naked. She was in-costume. The boobs and the pussy area were ripped, but that was it. Her ponytail and her confidence, it reminded him of Spider-Woman.
When Miles had sex with Gwen, it was, well, with Gwen. And when they were in costume, they were in costume. It was a mutually agreed thing. To not blur the two identities together.
But this guy?
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
His fat ass cock was drilling into her tight pussy and making her plead. "OH YES, YES, YESYESYESYESYES...! THIS DIIICK! THIS COCCKK! THIS IS ALL I'VE EVER WANTED!!!"
Gwen's tits swung freely beneath her. These backshots were different because Felix was delivering what was effectively the best of humanity and Gwen slammed back with superhuman speed and strength.
And yet she was still losing. Still unable to look anything but a whore.
'Look at her...she's slobbering like a dog...!'
Her teeth were showing, lips curled into a grin. Her eyes rolled back. See, Felix was pointing the camera to show him her face.
"N-Nooo! No! Please, n-not my face! Don't show my face! Not like thissss~!!!"
Once upon a time, it had been a black cock Gwen bounced on. Once upon a time, it was Miles who slapped her ass for fun.
Tonight, a stranger ripped up the ass portion of her costume and fucked her. Tonight, a giant white cock caused crazy ass ripples.
Gwen had one of those bodies that seemed like it was built to mess with Miles' head. Long legs that looked good in anything; jeans, sweats, shorts, didn't matter. A slim waist that curved into hips way wider than you'd expect from a girl her size. And then her ass… man.
It wasn't the biggest in the room, but it didn't have to be. It had shape. A perfect, heart-shaped curve that filled out leggings like they were painted on. The kind of ass that caught light when she walked away and made him forget whole conversations.
And it wasn't just genetics, it was the superhero thing. Swinging through the city every night, running rooftops, constant acrobatics. All that action had built her body into a tight, coiled machine. So her glutes? Firm as hell. Miles had felt them enough times to know.
Sometimes he'd watch her stretching after patrol, the way her suit hugged her lower half, seams digging into the curve just right. She'd bend over, nonchalant, pulling at her calves, and he'd have to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning out loud. That butt was dangerous. Compact but full, smooth but strong, made for squeezing, kneading, holding on tight.
Even out of the mask, Gwen knew what she had. Little things gave her away. The way she posed in Instagram pics, one hip cocked just so. The way she leaned against walls at parties, jeans hugging every line. She didn't flaunt it like some girls, but she didn't hide it either. Gwen Stacy's ass was just… there. Existing. And Miles couldn't not notice.
It haunted him. Heart-shaped, firm, perky, like every rep of squats, every late-night swing through New York, every flip and kick had sculpted it just for him.
And yeah, sometimes he hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop thinking: Gwen had the kind of ass you remembered even with your eyes closed. The kind of ass that she didn't allow most men to leer at or fuck for that matter.
Up until yesterday, only Miles got to witness this view. This ass. This jiggling. He was the lucky bastard everyone cursed.
Not anymore.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, loud and obscene. Gwen screamed with every thrust while Felix pounded into her like she was nothing more than a piece of meat.
Miles watched while madly jerking off. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop stroking himself as he watched Felix destroy Gwen in ways he never could.
"Fuck, you're tight," Felix groaned, gripping Gwen's hips so hard they'd probably bruise. "You take my cock so fucking well, slut. Do you have a boyfriend?"
His hips flexed and he angled his cock for another loud shriek from Gwen. She heaved. She wanted. She was Spider-Woman, she could take this. She could recover.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
But three thrusts and Gwen threw her head back, tears streaming down her face. "N-not anymore," she sobbed, her voice cracking with pleasure. "He's nothing compared to you, Felix. This cockkkk...thiiiiis cooocckkk..."
Every lengthed syllable came from a thrust. Pelvis met her booty and voila. A near instant climax.
Felix laughed, smacking her ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. "Say it again," he demanded, pounding into her even harder. "Tell me who owns this pussy."
"Y-you do!" Gwen screamed, her body convulsing as she came hard around his cock. "IT'S YOURS, FELIX! YOUR PUSSY! I BELONG TO YOUUU!!! YOUR COCKKK!!!"
Miles groaned, his hand moving faster on his cock as he watched Gwen lose herself completely. He couldn't believe what he was seeing — Gwen, the girl he loved, moaning and screaming for another man like a fucking pornstar. And yet, he couldn't stop himself from jerking off to it.
Felix drove into her with even more vigour and an even bigger smile, his cock hitting all the right spots as Gwen came over and over again. Her pussy clenched around him, milking him for everything he was worth as she screamed his name.
"You're such a dirty little slut," Felix growled, pulling out at the last second and spraying his cum all over her back.
This video was done.
The third was sent in an instant. Miles played.
Gwen was on her back, gasping and whimpering. She looked...unrecognizable. The same boobs, the same nude body, but the expression and the half-lidded eyes and smirk...
Gwen never gave him that kind of sultry look before.
Felix did not seem to care for this honour. He scooped up some of his cum with his fingers, shoving them into her mouth without warning. Gwen gasped, but she didn't fight it. Instead, she sucked on his fingers eagerly, swallowing every last drop of his seed.
"Good girl. Now get on your knees and clean me up."
His cock bounced. He stroked it twice. He wanted the viewer to see how long it was and how quickly Gwen pulled herself to get to it. She licked his cock clean like it was the most natural thing in the world. Miles couldn't believe what he was seeing. This wasn't the Gwen he knew — this was someone else entirely.
The video ended with Gwen cleaning the big white cock and asking, "Did I do good?" Like she was some sort of lovesick highschool girl. This was a fully-grown woman in her college years. This was a literal superhero who had saved the multiverse.
Yet a big white dick stood over her like she was nothing but a whore.
"Nnggh...!"
The video ended there, with Gwen begging for her hookup's attention. Grunting and masturbating, Miles collapsed onto the bed and he finished himself off. His cum shot out in thick ropes, landing on his pants. He came harder than he ever had before. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't deny that watching Gwen get destroyed by another man had turned him on more than anything else ever could.
He tossed his phone aside, his mind racing with thoughts of Gwen and Felix. He didn't know what to do… or how to feel. All he knew was that he couldn't stop thinking about the way Gwen moaned that other man's name…
"Fuck," Miles muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
His balls could still keep going, courtesy of his healing factor. Sucking in a breath, he decided to close his eyes. He decided to sleep it off.
[ FULL PART ON PATREON ]