Down Fall

The Amazing Spider-Man Down Fall chapter 1 “Encounters and Affairs”
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Peter Parker let out a soft groan.

He loved the feel of his wife’s lips on his cock. Her tongue running around the shaft, licking up and down. Taking her time. He loved the way Mary Jane woke him up in the mornings. He cracked open her eyes and looked down into her sparkling green ones. Her red hair framed her face, and fell down on to his legs. There were moments he couldn’t believe that she was his wife.

He felt his cock twitch and knew in moments he was going to cum. MJ took him deep, further down her throat, and with her right hand, gently caressed Peter’s balls. He let out a much harder groan, his toes curling, and came.

She slid his cock out of her mouth, and crawled up to curl next to him. She licked her lips.

“Morning, Tiger,” and kissed him firm on his mouth. MJ pushed her tongue into Peter’s mouth and he caressed hers. He could taste the hint of his own cum on her tongue.

They broke apart.

“Rough night?” she asked while cuddling with him.

Peter stroked her hair. His other life took him out every night. Dressed in his familiar red and blue costume, the Amazing Spider-Man would swing around the city every night, looking for crimes to stop. It took a hard toll on his life and Peter was more than grateful to have the beautiful MJ waiting for him in bed every night.

“Nothing out of the ordinary. Why?”

She ran her hand down his chest.

“Nothing. I was just down there for a half an hour before you woke up. Not that I minded of course.”

He kissed her forehead.

“My body must have just been catching up. You know how hard it can be sometimes.”

“Mmmhmm.”

Peter stretched.

“So what should I make us for breakfast?”

“I don’t think you should be doing any cooking, Pete.”

“Ha. Ha. Fine. What should I get us for breakfast?”

MJ pursed her lips together while thinking. She knew what she was really hungry for right now and it wasn’t food. But knowing that she would have to settle for something edible, she chose

“Breakfast tacos.”

Peter looked down and smiled at her.

“Breakfast tacos it is then.” And then as an after thought, he added “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It would be the last time Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson-Parker would ever say those words to each other.

* * *

The motel room smelt of piss and spilt alcohol and sex and cigarettes. But, whatever, he needed a place to hide.

Francis Shelley sat on the full sized motel bed and flicked through the channels on his too small to be worth anything. The morning sun filtered in through a few broken blinds and crossed over the room. Shelley clicked past boring morning news shows and talk shows and game shows before settling on one of the motel’s prized triple x channels.

But even this could barely hold his attention.

Shelley was nearly 40 and balding. He kept his face clean of facial hair and with the exception of a scar on his forehead, most people would think he was attractive. He wore a now-dirty white wifebeater and jeans. Shelley was a big guy, six foot two and nearly 250 pounds, but had very little fat on his body. His chest and arms were covered in tribal tattoos.

Francis Shelley was a murderer and a damn good one. Three years ago he had killed a family of four to send a message to a Kansas City prosecutor. He had tied up mom (the prosecutor’s sister) and dad and forced them to watch as he carved up their children like it was Thanksgiving, before raping and torturing both parents.The prosecutor had taken the hint and dropped all charges against Francis’s client.

And now he was in New York City waiting to take care of all things a high school principle. But that wouldn’t be for another day.

Shelley turned off the TV. All it was doing was giving him a hard-on. He turned to the ratty phone on the motel dresser. He was way too horny to think and knew there was a local girl who could help him out. He dialed her number.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, sexy. Guess who it is?” She sounded surprised and happy to hear from him.

“I’m just in town for a few days. Wanted to know if you could come party.” She giggled. He knew immediately he was in.

“So why don’t I tell you where I am and you come by in a few hours. Of course, its hard, honey. It’s always hard when I know I’m gonna see your sweet ass.”

* * *

Peter closed the apartment door behind him, breakfast tacos in hand.

He hated that he and MJ lived in shitty, small apartment. He thought she deserved better. She looked up at him from the couch and smiled. He held up the tacos.

“Breakfast is here.”

She patted the seat cushion next to her. “Well, come on, lets dig in!”

He set the tacos on the table and the two of them - husband and wife - dug in. They sat and ate in front of Peter’s little TV. The Price is Right was on. Peter couldn’t stand the show, but MJ oddly enjoyed it.

It was a nice quiet moment that knowing the Parker-Luck had to be broken. And sure enough, the news broke in during one of the inane Price is Right games.

A very prim and proper newscaster took a deep breath before beginning:

“We are just receiving word that a unknown villain is terrorizing the Brooklyn Bridge. Reports from the scene are saying that whoever the assalaint is, he is more than capable of throwing whole cars off the bridge.”

Peter looked to MJ. Before he could speak, she was already nodding. Knowing what was going to have to happen.

“Initial reports from the scene say that we already have six confirmed fatalities with another dozen injuries.”

“Peter, you need to go.”

Peter stared at the TV. “I know.” He hated this. Absolutely hated this moment. When the tranquility and peace between he and MJ was going to give way to nothing but horrible violence.

He turned to his wife and gave her a long passionate kiss. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

And with that he was off to the bedroom to change.

MJ watched him go. She felt a sense of longing. Of being unhappy. She was always afraid in these moments that Peter would don his tights for the last time. That some villain would get a lucky shot off and he would be found dead. She ran her finger over her wedding ring. Twisting it.

* * *

Peter, as Spider-Man, whipped through the air.

It was the most natural feeling in the world to him, being above the city, twirling in the air. He’d been doing it for over ten years and could never imagine not being Spider-man. Sure there were times when he hated it, but those would all eventually give way to good moments. Moments when he could cut loose.

He let go of his current web strand and shot out another one. There was always a split second where he could feel his arm pull right out of his body and he knew if he was normal - if he didn’t have super strength - it would.

Travel by web is just so efficient, he thought as the bridge came into view. He landed on the closet building and peered across at the destruction.

Cars were on fire, crushed or ripped apart. People were screaming, trapped. Peter stiffened behind his mask. The fear on their faces was a reminder of why he was doing this. Of why he was a super hero.

He took off over the bridge. It took two twists and a flip at just the right moment, but he landed in the middle of the destruction. Right in front of...

“Hey, you must be, Mr. Gruesome. Let me introduce my-” Peter was cutoff by the buzzing pain in his head that he affectionately referred to as his Spider-Sense. It was the perfect precursor to trouble or pain or both. Peter flipped out of the way just in time to watch as a chunk of car flew by him.

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” he said while taking his first good look at his new assailant friend.

Monstrous and gruesome would only begin to cover what the individual known as 07 looked like. Topping off at eight feet tall, with monstrous rippling muscles on muscles, dark grey skin, and oozing yellow eyes. He bared his mouth, revealing broken pointed teeth. He was naked. On his chest, like some twisted sports jersey, the numbers 07 were carved into his body.

Peter took a moment to think about how he much he resembled the Hulk. And then Peter remembered why he hated the Hulk.

07 rushed towards him at increasing speed. Peter knew a being of that size shouldn’t move that fast, but it didn’t matter. He was. Peter flipped over him, landing on 07’s back. He tried to wrap his arms around the monsters head, maybe put in a sleeper hold but that was worthless. 07 was only pissed off. He grabbed Peter by the back. His monstrous hands crushing into him

Fuck, there goes the ribs, Peter thought. The pain was too much and he let go of 07’s neck. In return, 07 hurled peter into the nearest car. He landed with a painful thud on the hood of the car, leaving his own impression behind.

Peter was dazed, but trying to shake it off. He had to because his Spider-Sense was already buzzing again. 07 back handed Peter in the face. He felt his nose give way, breaking beneath his mask. 07 stood over him, seemingly triumphant.

Peter took a moment. A deep, controlled breath. It hurt. It stung. But it was enough.

All at once, Peter moved like his name sake. He stung with quick punches and hard jabs to 07’s face and chest and cock and stomach. He moved all around, never standing still. A blur, pounding as fast as he can be, ripping the knuckles of his gloves, ripping open his own knuckles. Every blow felt like hitting concrete. He went until his arms hurt. Pushing 07 back.

And then the breath was out of him, and 07 looked at him the way a human looks at an ant. Annoyed. Pestered. He opened his mouth and roared. Spittle flying into Peter’s exhausted face.

“God, I miss Electro. Or the Spot. Did you ever get to meet the Spot?”

07’s answer was to throw a body blow at Peter, who somehow, miraculously dodged it, which only served to make the monster even angrier. It roared again.

He’s going to burst my ear drums, Peter thought, while grabbing his head.

And then the roaring became even louder and louder. An intense, seething pain. Peter’s eyes reflexively clenched closed, but he fought to crack them open and watched as 07’s entire body trembled. It’s eyes bulging. It’s muscles rippling beneath its skin before...

07 exploded.

As if a bomb was inside of him, the man-monolith exploded into pieces. Body parts, innards, blood and fluids rained into the sky and fell to the ground. Blood and other viscous fluid poured on to Peter. He looked down at the chunks of body that used to be 07 and Peter felt very sick.

Not just because of the mess. But because what it meant. Someone or something just doesn’t explode on its own. It needs help. Which wasn’t a good sign as far as he was concerned. This meant that someone else was behind the strings and in Peter’s life that meant that he was voted most likely to deal with the string puller.
But that would have to wait for another day. He needed to get home. Needed to get cleaned up, bandaged up. His ribs were still on fire. As he fired a web line to pull himself up and into the sky, he realized Mary Jane would freak about his nose.

“Fuuck,” he groaned.

* * *

Mary Jane was dressed to kill. No, more than she was dressed to fuck.

She was standing there in an outfit she knew Peter would die if he had seen. Four inch heels, her tight leather mini that barely came down past her ass (the one she kept hidden in the closet from Pete) and a low cut, stylish shirt that showed off ample amounts of C-cup breasts. Of course, she wore no bra or panties.
She had butterflies in her stomach. An excited nervousness and she could feel her pussy tingling with anticipating.

She raised her hand to knock on the motel room door. She still wore her wedding room. He liked it that way. Made her occasional lover feel like even more of a man to know that despite MJ being married, she would always be more than happy to be with him.

Francis Shelley opened the door. A smile on his face as he took in Mary Jane.

“Well, hello, sexy thing.”

She smiled back at him. “Hello, to you two.”

They were looking each other over. It had been nearly a year since the last time they had seen each other. MJ could see Francis’ cock was already straining in his jeans and it seemed to push harder against the fabric the more he looked at her.

“I hate going so long without seeing you,” she said. “Can I come in?”

Francis pulled her into the room. “Of course.” And slammed the door shut behind them.

In moments, he was all over her, his tongue pushing into her mouth. Hard and rough. He forced her against the wall to stop from falling over. His hands ran down her back and started squeezing and kneading her tight little ass.

Mary Jane had been horny since her morning blowjob with Peter. She’d gotten hornier when Shelley called and even hornier getting dressed.

“If you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to explode.”

To be continued..