aFireFist
A Life in Marvel
Chapter 10 - Part 3
Morgan squeezed her ass, pulling her closer. "You're still swollen from earlier. I can feel how wet you are through the dress."
Liz moaned softly against his neck, rolling her hips in deeper circles. Her heavy tits dragged across his chest with every movement, nipples hard and obvious. She ground her thick thigh against his growing bulge, then pushed her ass back into his hands, letting him knead the soft, jiggly flesh. A group of girls nearby whispered furiously, eyes wide at how shamelessly Liz was moving on him. One guy looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
MJ took her turn with that signature smirk, stepping in close. She was taller and leaner, but no less intense. One of her long legs slid between Morgan's as she ground down, her tight ass flexing while she rolled her hips in tight, filthy figure-eights. Her perky tits dragged across his chest with every movement, nipples brushing him through the thin black fabric.
"You're killing us out here," MJ muttered, voice low and dry but edged with heat. "All three of us walking around with your cum still inside us. I can feel it every time I move."
Morgan's hand dropped to her tight ass, squeezing as she dropped low and slid back up slowly, dragging her pussy along the length of his cock through their clothes. "You three are gonna get us caught."
"Good," MJ breathed, rolling her hips again in that precise, filthy way that dragged her soaked pussy right along the hard line of Morgan's cock through their clothes. "Let them watch."
She kept moving like that — long legs shifting, tight ass flexing as she dropped low and slid back up slowly, her perky tits dragging across his chest. The black dress rode up her thighs just enough to show smooth skin. MJ's breath was hot against his neck as she ground down harder, her hips working in tight, controlled circles that left nothing to the imagination.
Ned had been standing nearby with his date, trying to play it cool. He had one arm awkwardly around her waist, nodding along to the music while sipping punch that tasted like it came from a powder mix. At first he just frowned, squinting across the dance floor like he sensed something was off but couldn't quite place it. The lights were low, bodies were moving, but something about the group around Morgan kept pulling his eyes back.
Then his gaze locked onto MJ.
It was her. No question. Same dark hair, same sharp features, same tall frame in that tight black dress. But the way she was moving… that wasn't the MJ he knew. The MJ who usually leaned against lockers with a deadpan expression, arms crossed, making dry sarcastic comments that made everyone else feel stupid. The MJ who rolled her eyes at school dances and called them "social constructs designed to make teenagers feel inadequate." That MJ would never —
She rolled her hips in a slow, filthy figure-eight, one long leg sliding between Morgan's thighs as she ground down hard. Her tight ass flexed visibly under the black fabric, cheeks clenching and rolling with every deliberate circle. Her perky tits dragged across Morgan's chest, nipples clearly stiff and pressing through the thin material. She dropped low, sliding back up painfully slow, her body moving like liquid sex against him.
Ned's face went bright red in an instant. His mouth fell open a little, eyes wide behind his glasses. This was MJ — his friend MJ — grinding on Morgan like she was trying to fuck him right there on the dance floor. The contrast hit him like a truck. The girl who once spent twenty minutes explaining why school spirit was "fascist-adjacent" was now rolling her hips in these slow, shameless waves, her long legs spreading slightly as she pressed her pussy against Morgan's obvious bulge. It made it so much hotter. Because it was her. The girl he'd known for years, the one he secretly thought was insanely attractive in that untouchable, intimidating way.
"Jesus…" Ned whispered under his breath, unable to look away. A deep, guilty heat pooled in his stomach. Part of him felt like he was intruding on something private, but another part — a part he didn't like admitting to — felt a strange, twisted thrill. Like he was watching something forbidden. MJ, who barely tolerated most guys, was completely lost in it, her usual bored mask gone, replaced by this confident, sexual version that was grinding like she owned Morgan's body.
His date said something to him, but it barely registered. Ned muttered quickly, "Uh, I gotta hit the bathroom real quick. Be right back." He practically bolted, face burning, weaving through the crowd without looking back.
Inside the boys' bathroom, he locked himself in the farthest stall with shaking hands. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. He leaned back against the wall, breathing hard, and yanked his pants and boxers down in one desperate motion. His cock sprang out, already rock hard and throbbing painfully, the head slick with precum just from what he'd seen.
"Fuck…" Ned whispered, wrapping his hand around himself. He started stroking fast, eyes squeezed shut as the images flooded back. MJ's long legs spreading, that tight ass flexing and rolling shamelessly against Morgan. The way her perky tits dragged across his chest with every filthy grind. "MJ… shit…"
The contrast made it unbearable. This was the same girl who sat next to him in decathlon practice cracking sarcastic jokes, the one who called him "dude" and punched his arm when he got too excited about something nerdy. And now she was out there moving like that — hips rolling in tight, precise circles, dropping low and sliding back up so slow it looked like she was fucking Morgan standing up. Ned's hand pumped faster, slick sounds filling the stall.
He pictured her face — that usual bored expression completely gone, replaced by heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips. The way she smirked at Morgan like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. It felt wrong. She was his friend. But that made it hotter somehow. The deep-down attraction he'd always buried came rushing up. He'd jerked off thinking about her before, late at night, feeling guilty afterward. But seeing it real, seeing her choose Morgan so openly…
A low, conflicted groan escaped him. "She's really doing that… right in front of everyone…" His fist flew up and down his cock, thumb brushing over the sensitive head. The image of her tight ass flexing, those long legs working, her perky tits bouncing slightly with each grind pushed him right to the edge.
He felt that weird cuckold rush again — shame mixed with a strange, guilty pleasure. Like he was watching something he shouldn't, but couldn't stop. MJ, who barely gave most guys the time of day, was soaked and grinding on Morgan like she needed it. Ned's strokes got erratic, breathing ragged.
"Fuck, MJ…" he gasped quietly, biting his lip hard. The fantasy of her dropping low again, sliding back up with that slow, filthy roll, her perky tits brushing Morgan's chest — it hit him like a wave. He came hard, thick ropes shooting into a wad of toilet paper he'd grabbed at the last second. His legs shook, chest heaving as he milked every drop, the pleasure sharp and intense.
He leaned against the stall wall afterward, breathing hard, face still burning. Part of him felt gross for getting off to it. Another part was already replaying the scene in his head. MJ moving like that… for Morgan. His friend. The contrast between the sarcastic girl he knew and the sexual one on the dance floor made his spent cock twitch again.
Ned cleaned up quickly, flushed the evidence, and washed his hands. He stared at himself in the mirror for a second, face still flushed. "Get it together, man," he muttered. But as he headed back out to the dance, he knew he'd be thinking about what he saw for a long time.
Across the room, Flash caught Morgan's eye. For a second his face lit up with that usual cocky smirk, mouth already opening like he was about to say something loud and stupid — probably some weak jab about Parker bailing or Morgan thinking he was hot shit. But the words died in his throat when Morgan stared back at him, expression completely flat and unbothered, like Flash was barely worth noticing. Flash's face twisted with jealousy, cheeks burning. He couldn't look away though — especially when Liz cut back in.
Liz stepped up with a soft, needy roll of her hips, sliding right into Morgan's space. She faced him fully, pressing those heavy tits right against his chest again. The blue dress strained hard over her full breasts, the fabric stretched tight across her nipples. She ground forward, her thick thighs squeezing around his leg as she worked her soaked pussy against him. Her wide hips rolled slow and deliberate, and when Morgan's hands grabbed her ass, the soft, heavy cheeks spilled between his fingers perfectly. She pushed back into his grip, letting him knead and squeeze the jiggly flesh.
"Been thinking about this the whole time," Liz whispered hotly against his ear, her voice breathy and low. "I could still feel you inside me. Your cum still leaking out of me while I smile and pretend everything is normal. Every step I took I felt it dripping down my thighs."
Morgan squeezed her thick ass harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled her closer. "You're still so wet. I can feel it soaking through that dress. You're making a mess of yourself right here on the dance floor."
Liz let out a quiet, needy moan, pressing her heavy tits harder into his chest. Her stiff nipples dragged across him with every slow roll of her hips. "They're so sensitive now after what you did to them earlier. Every time they rub against you I remember how you sucked on them… how you squeezed them while you fucked me so deep. You made me so full."
She ground her thick thigh against the hard bulge in his pants, then pushed her ass back into his grip again, letting him feel how soft and jiggly it was. The blue dress rode up slightly on her wide hips as she moved, her curvy body working against him shamelessly. A couple of football guys nearby glared with pure jealousy, one of them openly adjusting his pants while watching the way Liz's thick ass and heavy tits moved.
"Lucky bastard," one of them muttered under his breath, eyes locked on her.
Flash couldn't take it anymore. His face was flushed red with a mix of anger and unwanted arousal. He slipped away from the wall and headed toward the bathrooms, shoulders tense. Inside, he locked himself in a stall, breathing hard. He yanked his pants down and pulled out his cock. It was already leaking, but even hard it was below average — shorter and thinner than he liked to admit. He wrapped his hand around it and started stroking furiously, eyes squeezed shut.
The images flooded in. Liz's heavy tits bouncing and pressing against Morgan's chest. The way her thick ass filled Morgan's hands, soft flesh spilling between his fingers. Those wide hips rolling so shamelessly, her thick thighs squeezing around his leg. Flash stroked faster, angry at first, but the fantasy shifted in his head. He pictured Morgan railing her hard — that big cock stretching Liz open, making her moan like a slut right there on the dance floor. He imagined Morgan bending her over, pounding that curvy body while Liz's tits swung heavily.
"Fuck…" Flash whispered, hand flying up and down his smaller cock. The contrast hit him hard. Him with his average-to-below dick versus Morgan destroying Liz. And somehow that made it hotter. He felt a weird, guilty rush — imagining Liz getting absolutely railed by someone bigger, better, while he watched. It made his cock throb in his hand.
"Yeah… take that dick, Liz," he muttered under his breath, stroking faster. In his fantasy Morgan had her bent over, gripping her wide hips, slamming into her from behind while her thick ass rippled. Liz was moaning loud, pushing back, her heavy tits swinging. Flash's hand was slick with precum as he pumped, the mental image of her getting filled and used pushing him closer.
He came hard with a muffled groan, thick but modest spurts shooting into a wad of toilet paper. His legs shook a little as he milked the last drops, breathing ragged. For a second he felt pathetic — jerking off in a bathroom stall to the girl he wanted getting fucked by Morgan. But underneath that shame was a strange, intense satisfaction. The thought of Liz's curvy body getting properly railed, her moaning for more, her thick ass bouncing on a real cock… it felt good in a twisted way.
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