Down Fall

The Amazing Spider-Man Down Fall chapter 1 “The Calm”
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Peter was in the air, twisting his body with each zip of his web line. He wanted nothing more than to be home and out of the blood and organ covered costume he was now in. To have a nice, hot shower and wrap his ribs and tape his nose. Over the years, he’d gotten quite proficient at taking care of himself, medically. A life time spent in combat with people bigger, meaner, and nastier than him would educate anyone in basic field dressings.

What was a bigger concern for him, though, was what was that monstrous brute doing on the bridge anyway. And why or how did he just explode.
* * *
Mary Jane buried her face deep into the bleach smelling pillow. Francis was behind her, his bare cock pushing deep inside. She bit her lip down, rocking her hips back and forth to meet his. It felt good.

They’d been fucking for an hour straight already. She’s already cum twice, and was on the verge of doing it again. He’d yet to do it once. That was another reason she was here, in this disgusting motel room. She knew Francis could be like a machine, pounding away at her harder and harder. Making her feel things that Peter very rarely could.

There was no foreplay between the two of them. No light and tender caressing. No romance. Francis treated her like a toy. Just another way for him to get off and she liked it. If she was honest with herself, she knew she was doing the same to him. The thrill of just being used, of having it dirty and rough, of being here, naked with a murderer inside of her could make her scream to heaven.

“God, harder,” she gasped out.

He smiled. Ran his rough hands up her smooth back and clamped down hard on her neck. She yelped as her skin twisted beneath his hand.
“You sure you really want that?”

“I need it.”

He moved his hand further up into her soft red hair. Francis was gentle, at first. Letting it fall into his open palm, but a sudden moment later, he was pulling a fist full of Mary Jane’s hair. He yanked down hard, almost as if he was going to rip a clump out. She screamed, tears instantly filling her eyes.

“Fuck, yeah,” was all she could say in response.

Francis smiled. “You’re such a crazy bitch, you know that.”

She tried turning her head to look at him, to give him that heartachingly sexy smile she was so capable of. But his hand was still in her hair and he wasted no time grabbing her head.

MJ found herself face first in the pillow. Francis pushing down with all his might. For a few moments, she worried that he was going to kill her. That she would die, in the midst of an adulterous affair, having suffocated in some filthy motel bed. Her heart thumped in her chest, speeding up. She tried to push up, off the bed.

Francis leaned on top of her, forcing her body straight down to the bed. He was still inside, still thrusting in and out of her soaking wet pussy.
“Don’t you fuckin’ move, little girl. Not till I’ve shot inside this tight little hole of yours.”

Her lips opened in the pillow, trembling.

Mary Jane Watson-Parker had a third orgasm.

* * *

Everything was going perfectly according to plan as far as he was concerned.

Years of surveillance, investments, research had all paid off. 07 had not only been able to hurt him, but he was sure that the monster had made Peter Parker afraid. How delicious.

He had gotten to the rooftop half a mile from the Brooklyn Bridge early that morning. Before dawn, he set up the scope, the camera and the computer. That way he could view it live and still get the necessary information regarding his experiment.
He was a scientist first and foremost. Always had been, even before he started work at the University and even now that he had been disgraced and insulted by the press and his peers. He’d always been on the cutting edge of biology and bioengineering. He was pioneering work in that field before it even had popular name.

But that was all the past and in the decade since, he’d been seen as a joke. Chased and haunted by the police. And by Spider-Man.
He had set up the genetic spore-releasers nearly a month ago. Each scattered in different parts of New York. Each with a different genetic sequence. The first six had proven to be failures. The genetic spores reacted too harshly with the subjects. Bulging muscles ripped apart and out of the flesh too fast. Other subjects felt their hearts or brains give way in minutes. Unable to withstand the intense pressure now on their bodies.

But that was okay. He was a scientist. He refined.

Subject 07 had been a high school football player. His body already used to steroids and other body development chemicals. His exposure to the spores had proven quite well. Sure 07’s heart had grown to be four times the size of a healthy heart. And his brain had literally short circuited, only leaving the primitive reptilian portion of the brain active.
He kept 07 in his workstation for the past week. Feeding him birds and rats and other vermin that he could grab. It kept 07 lean and mean and hungry for his coming out party.

Which worked well. He got a front row seat as his experiment took on Peter. Batted him around like a rag doll. He knew the little Spider-Freak had at least broken some bones and that made him feel good. He liked seeing him in pain.

But today was just going to be the beginning of that pain. He waited until it looked as if 07 was going to attack again. It roared in anger, ready to swat down the pesky little bug. Thats when he fingered the little touch screen device in his hand. The small glass and metal remote, a perfect device for keeping in touch on his creations. 07’s mouth was snarling open in rage and he simply pushed the yellow on-screen button.

During the week that 07 had been stored in the workstation, he had planted a small device inside of him - an explosive set to go off when it detected an incredibly high frequency. The little metal box neatly held enough C4 for to make 07 go from man-mountain to man-slushy.
So when he pressed the little yellow button, the remote sent out a sharp high pitched noise. People hadn’t hear it. Some dogs and cats certainly did. 07 definitely did. He hadn’t expected the creature to scream with the agony and pain that it did, but things like that were unimportant to the overall plan. Moments after he pressed the button, the bomb in 07’s chest exploded.

He couldn’t help but laugh - no cackle - as the blood and guts poured all over Peter Parker.

That was his sign to pack up. He gathered up his scope and camera and computer. Packed his bag and moved back into the shadows of the roof top. He held up a pair of binoculars. Waiting.

* * *

He’d only been in the air for moments, but already his Spider-Sense was going off again. The buzzing hurt. Another warning side of trouble and danger.

Peter jerked his head from side to side, scanning rooftop after rooftop. All of them empty. His Spider-Sense had been a blessing since the day of the spider bite. He had learned to trust it always. It was a precognitive radar that had saved his life more times than he could count. But it had a drawback. No matter how effective it could be, it just told Peter that trouble was possible or coming. It couldn’t show him where it was coming from. Sure if he was in a fist fight, the buzz would alert him he was going to be hit, and he could then use his other senses to pin point where, but in a case like this? High above the city, with no one around, surrounded by empty rooftops, the Spider-Sense just seemed more ominous than helpful.

Peter let go of his current web line, twisted and landed on a rooftop. He grimaced, out of breath.

“Hello?” he called out to the shadows of the empty rooftop. Nothing answered back.

Of course, nothing is going to answer you back. There’s no one up here, idiot boy. And if there was and it was triggering your Spider-Sense do you really expect them to say “Hey! How’s it going? Want some pizza?”, he thought.

Still, he looked around. Better safe then sorry.

He took a walk around, surveying, looking into every shadow. Nothing. The roof was in deed empty.

Unless the invisible man is up here, Peter though to himself. For most people, that would have been a joke, but the thought instantly made Peter uncomfortable. He double checked the roof one final time before leaping off and swinging away.

One building across the way, he lowered the binoculars and stepped out of the shadows. Amazing how dumb this so-called genius, Peter could be. Of course, he’d known for years that Peter wasn’t as bright as everyone said.

* * *

Mary Jane took a long drag off of her cigarette, the smoke filling her lungs, burning. She let it out slowly. Long ago, she had taken up smoking when the stress of Peter’s other life had been too much, and she had eventually quit.

Well, almost quit. At times like this, when she was living her other life, she would sneak one here or there. And after the intense fucking that Francis had just given her, she felt she needed a calming dose of nicotine. She set the cigarette down in the ashtray by the bed. The toilet in the other room flushed and a few seconds later, Francis, still naked step into the room.

She admired his body. Sure, Peter had a nice body, but it was lithe. Like a swimmer or a runner. Francis was carved muscle. Like a professional running back.

He caught her looking and returned the stare with one of his own. He took in her still naked, glistening body. Her shaved pussy. He could see their juice drying on her thighs, mingled together. He smiled.

“You have a good time today?"

“I always do with you.”

“You ever thought about telling your husband what and how you like it?”

“He’d never understand. Besides, why waste all that time talking,” she took another hit of nicotine. “Things like this are much better.”
Francis laughed. “He must have had you really worked up today.”

“I woke him up with my mouth. Thought we were gonna have a little fun, but instead... It doesn’t matter.”

“It would to me, yknow. If you were my woman, and I found out that you were occasionally taking it real rough and letting some other guy make you cum, I’d make sure he was in a trash bag. Several trash bags.”

MJ giggled. “Hey, if I was with your woman, I wouldn’t have to stray. The work out you just gave me, I am gonna be sore for a while.”

Francis smiled, macho pride taking over. He reached down and massaged his limp and resting cock. It twitched. “You got time for another?”

“Mmm. I wish.” She took a final drag and then stamped the cigarette out. “But I have to get home. Hopefully before Peter so I can change.”
She sat up in bed and reached for her leather miniskirt.

“I don’t know how you do it. He doesn't fuck you right, he’s not rich, and he doesn’t like you getting all dressed up. Why do you stay with this guy?’

Mary Jane shrugged. It took her a little big longer to respond than it should have, but eventually she used the old standby. “Because I love him.”

“Not as much as you loved my rod inside you.”

Mary Jane looked up at him. A dirty smile on her lips. Francis pointed down to his half-erect penis. He gestured.

“Why don’t you give it one more kiss goodbye.”

Deep inside, she argued with herself. She definitely wouldn’t mind having it again, giving it one last taste. But she should get home.
Just turn around, put on your hoochie top and get out of here, the little voice inside of her was saying.

Francis moved closer to her. Mere inches from her face now.

“Well?” His voice was clear, demanding.

Mary Jane couldn’t say no even if she wanted to. And she didn’t.

* * *

The hot water made Peter grimace as it splashed his face.

“Definitely. Broken.” he said aloud to himself.

He lowered his head and let the water run down and over his body. Washing away not only his sweat but whatever gunk had splattered on him when 07 blew up. Whether he realized it or not, these were some of the only true quiet moments he ever had. Alone. In the shower.
He squeezed out the last of his body wash into his hands and began to rub it on. He was used to the post fight pain. He rubbed the bruises on his left side and looked down at them. They were a sickly purple and black already. Pushing against his side he could feel the broken rib beneath.

He washed off and then turned the water off. Peter leaned against the wall and slid down into the tub.

Whoever was responsible for that thing had to make it blow up. Which means two things, he thought. His mind was already laying it all out. One, either they used a timer of some kind so it would blow up in advanced. If that’s the case, that’s a pretty risky idea because their would be no assurance that it would blow up when they wanted it to. Or...

He let the or hang in his mind a minute, before continuing. Or my spider-sense really wasn’t going whacky afterwords and who ever made Mr. Grunts-a-lot go boom was nearby and was watching. If two is true... The math geek in him was taking over his thoughts now. If two is true, than that means either that person left just as i got there and was already in the building which is why I couldn’t find him. Or maybe he really is fucking invisible.

None of the ideas sat right with Peter because they all led to the same place. Whoever was behind 07, was just beginning. And, as always, Peter felt he would have to be the one to stop him.

Peter stepped out of the bath tub and grabbed his blue towel. He dried off his chest, wrapped the towel and then turned his attention to the medical cabinet. He took out a roll of gauze and began to wrap his chest. One look after another around his body pulling it tighter. In order to heal, the ribs would have to be packed tight, to stop unwanted movement.

When he was finished, he secured the wrap and stared at himself in the mirror. He carefully touched at his swollen nose.

“No way am I gonna hide you,” he said solemnly. “A ten minute squabble and I’m banged up like I just threw down with the Sinister Six.”

He took another look at himself and left, moving out of the bathroom, through his bedroom and into the living room.

And no sooner did he step into the living room, then he heard the front door open.

“MJ, its worse than it looks - “ He stopped. “MJ?”

He had to ask that as as a question because surely the woman now standing in front of him, in a slutty leather mini skirt that barely covered her ass and a top so low cut that Peter could see her nipples, could not be his wife.

But it was.

Mary Jane looked up at him. Her green eyes immediately filled with sadness and regret.

To be continued..