Mary Jane exhaled sharply. She hadn't been breathing the whole time I was speaking. I couldn't see her face, so I could only guess what expression she might have right now.
Her hand, which had frozen the moment I said I wasn't a fan of hand jobs, began moving again. She gently stroked the shaft of my cock with her fingers. Then, finally, she worked up the courage to look at me.
A triumphant smirk played on Mary Jane's lips. It was the kind of smile a guy would wear if he had just landed the hottest girl in class. I was sure my own face wore the same smug expression when I said goodbye to my virginity in Gwen's arms.
"Whatever you say," she whispered and lowered herself into a squat. Her knees definitely shouldn't touch this ground.
I could barely believe this was real. I had just suggested to a girl I barely knew, in a dirty, trash filled alley behind a nightclub, that she give me a blowjob. And she was okay with it.
The Mary Jane Watson I knew would never have agreed to something like this. At least, not so quickly. To her, I was just a quiet, nerdy stranger named Peter Parker who had only started talking to her today.
But different world, different rules. I was starting to realize that this situation was just as unusual for this world as it was for my past one. Not because Mary Jane agreed, but because I had suggested it. Or rather, because I had allowed it.
Flash had been trying to get into Osborn's pants for years, and he kept playing hard to get. That seemed strange to me, but for the locals, it was normal. That was how a respectable guy was supposed to act.
MJ pulled my pants down a little further and examined me with genuine interest, her hands exploring. Soon, I felt the touch of her soft lips, then her sharp tongue, and finally the firm softness of her teeth on my skin. I didn't care that she wasn't very skilled, that her teeth grazed my skin too often and too hard. On the contrary, it made me happy. I only regretted that I couldn't return the favor right now. I shouldn't have rushed. We could have done this at my place.
She was doing just fine on her own, though.
I noticed that her other hand had disappeared under her short red skirt. Judging by the sounds, there was already a waterfall down there. Wow. In the past, it had taken a lot of effort to get Mary Jane that wet. Not to mention that in my entire life, I had only known one girl who actually got off on pleasuring her partner with her mouth. And that wasn't Mary Jane. I could only guess whether local girls were typically this easy to arouse.
I wanted to tell Mary Jane that she was being too loud. But then I realized that I hadn't heard any sounds from the other side of the courtyard for a while.
"MJ," I whispered, running my fingers through her hair. "I'm almost there."
But Mary Jane only worked her mouth more intensely and kept her hand busy under her skirt. Fine. I had warned her.
She seemed to have managed to give herself a small orgasm while giving me a blowjob. That was the only way I could explain why her moans drowned out even my heavy breathing at that moment.
"Ugh, that's disgusting," Mary Jane's voice pulled me back from cloud nine. At least in that regard, she hadn't changed.
I don't know how it was for other guys, but I had noticed a little quirk about myself. I couldn't help but love any girl I had just come on or in the mouth of. It was like some damn instinct that was impossible to resist. There was no need to.
Right now, I was overwhelmed with tenderness for Mary Jane. I quickly pulled a clean handkerchief from my pants pocket and helped her wipe the remaining semen from her face.
"Thanks," she whispered, embarrassed, taking the handkerchief from me. She seemed flustered by the gesture.
"I think Harry and Audrey have already left," Mary Jane said uncertainly a minute later, after she had composed herself.
"Yeah, definitely. They noticed us," I answered her unspoken question. "No, I doubt they realized it was us."
Mary Jane still looked unsure.
"So what if they did?" I pulled her to me and kissed her hard.
Mary Jane's eyes widened in surprise, but then she kissed me back with even more enthusiasm than before. She pressed her whole body against me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and held me for a full minute.
Soon after, we returned to the dance floor and found our classmates. They were just heading to the bar, and we joined them. Thompson ordered another round of drinks for everyone and looked at MJ suspiciously.
"Where have you two been?" she asked.
Hearing this, Mary Jane gave her a provocative, triumphant smile.
"Dancing," she said, eagerly downing her shot.
"Then why do you look so pleased with yourself?" Flash tossed back her own drink.
"Peter is a good dancer," MJ smirked.
But Audrey wasn't fooled. She narrowed her eyes even more, as if hoping to find evidence of a crime that way.
Osborn, meanwhile, sipped his drink slowly and watched me with interest. At least he didn't ask for a straw. Small mercies.
"You've changed," he finally said. "Did something happen in the last two weeks?"
I thought about my answer. More precisely, I tried to dig out of my memory anything about the relationship between Harry and Peter before my arrival here. There wasn't much.
A few years ago, Osborn had tried to find common ground with Parker. They were the only guys in the class, after all. But Peter refused to engage at all, and Harry had nothing to interest his mind, which was so disconnected from reality. They had absolutely nothing in common. In the end, Harry quickly gave up and stopped trying.
"Something did happen," I said, noticing that not only Osborn but also the girls were listening carefully.
"Something good?" Mary Jane asked, then, seeing that the others didn't understand, clarified. "Did something good happen?"
"More yes than no. At least for me." I couldn't give a definitive answer to that question.
"Whatever happened," Thompson jumped into the conversation, "it did you good. I like the new Parker. You used to sit in the back like an alien. You couldn't get a word out of you except about lessons."
Audrey threw her arm over my shoulder and squeezed with all the force of her trained body. You couldn't even imagine how much strength was in the hands of the leading forward of the district's strongest high school football team. For example, in my current shape, if I put on full football gear, I wouldn't even run a kilometer. I would die on the second hundred meter.
To stop this torture, I poked her in the solar plexus with my fingers. Not hard, just enough to loosen her grip. Audrey, though not a professional fighter, had a pretty solid core. But I got what I wanted and escaped from her suffocating embrace while Thompson caught her breath.
"You little shit," she wheezed.
"Ha ha," Osborn laughed. "He got you."
Flash glared at Harry, but she still forced a smile and let it go. Wow, men really weren't taken seriously here. For Thompson, a confrontation with me was impossible without losing her self respect and dignity.
"How about a drive around the city?" Mary Jane suggested, trying to lighten the mood.
No one objected. Ten minutes and two more rounds of drinks later, we were sitting in Audrey's convertible. I felt uncomfortable being in a car driven by a drunk Thompson who was trying to regain her leadership points by showing off her driving skills. I couldn't do anything if she lost control. Nervously pressing myself into the seat, I tried to remember my school days. Had Eugene ever crashed his damn Plymouth Prowler? I couldn't recall. It had been so long. Such early, insignificant details of my life had started to fade even in my past world after waking up from hibernation.
Thank God it all worked out. A few hours of pointless driving around the city and a dozen stupid ideas that popped into Audrey's head later, I managed to convince my friends that it was time to go home. While we were driving, Mary Jane, who couldn't boast tolerance for alcohol but hadn't missed a single toast, fell sound asleep.
Stopping outside the Watsons' house, Thompson started to stumble out of the car, clearly intending to shake the girl awake. She really was a great driver to handle the car so perfectly in that condition. Seriously, her own body obeyed her worse than the car had a few minutes ago.
"Don't bother," I stopped her. "I've got it."
Under the surprised looks of Thompson and Osborn, I carefully lifted MJ out of the car and carried her in my arms.
"Well, well, I've never seen that before," Audrey whistled, then looked at Harry doubtfully, apparently imagining herself in Mary Jane's place. A second later, she shuddered in disgust at the thought.
"See you at school," I hinted to my classmates that it was time for some people to disappear into the night. Then, turning my back to them, I headed toward the house. Mary Jane was heavier than I had expected. I needed to hurry.
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Thompson's voice reached me, accompanied by a strange noise, as if the girl had fallen back into the car without opening the door.
"What are you doing?" Harry exclaimed. "Get off me. You're heavy. God, Audrey, what is wrong with you?"
Instead of answering, Thompson started the engine and hit the gas.
By this time, I had managed the latch on the Watsons' gate and was approaching the front door. It was already almost four in the morning, and no lights were on in the house. Since I knew where Mary Jane's room was, I would try not to wake anyone, including the girl herself.
The key was in the most reliable and unpredictable place in the universe, under the front door's awning. So I managed to sneak inside unnoticed with a sleeping girl in my arms. Streetlight filtered through the uncurtained windows, so I could more or less see where I was going. Counting every creaking and groaning step on the stairs, I finally made it to Mary Jane's room on the second floor and laid her down on the bed with relief. I sat down next to her to catch my breath.
She was still fast asleep, so I had to undress her myself and cover her with a blanket. While folding her clothes on a chair, I accidentally bumped her desk, causing her computer to wake from sleep mode.
I was about to just turn it off, but my attention was caught by an open browser tab. "Your First Date with a Guy, or What Not to Do to Make Sure It Isn't Your Last."
Scanning the bullet points, I found such gems as:
- If he agreed to the date, it means he likes you. You caught his attention and stood out from the crowd. So be confident.
- He will be evaluating you, watching you. Think about how to behave so he gets a good impression.
- Read his signals. Is he into you but shy about showing it? He listens carefully and looks at you. That's noticeable right away.
- He laughs at your jokes. That's how he shows his sympathy and wants you to see it.
- He's not trying to prove anything to you. He's not acting tough. He's comfortable with you, completely relaxed.
- Be reasonable. The guy needs to know you're not a maniac and he won't be going home in four black trash bags.
- Listen carefully to what he says. Show him that his interests are close to your heart. Don't forget that men don't think about sex constantly like we do.
- Show that you're not a nympho. Don't initiate kisses. Don't grope him without reason. Timing is everything.
But the advice I liked best was for the third date.
- If you want to get him into bed, don't skimp on foreplay. Let the whole date become one big foreplay. Work him over. Make him think about sex as often as you do.
According to the logic of this article, I was constantly being worked over, since I thought about sex as often as the girls did.
I turned off Mary Jane's computer and quietly left the house. I could barely stand. I hadn't slept much the night before, and I had had a very eventful day since then. I needed to do something about my stamina.
Also, I didn't like how quickly my sexual desire had evaporated after just a simple blowjob. I was sixteen. I should be like a barrel filled to the brim with sperm. Wouldn't it make sense for the rare men of this world to have heightened sexual desire to compensate for their scarcity? But my own experience in this body and the online advice for girls suggested otherwise. Either this world's Peter Parker had been average to begin with, or my spider talents weren't limited to combat. So, considering the opportunities this world offered, losing my superpowers was turning into a real disaster. It was late now, but something had to be done about this mess. How had Mumbler put it? Men were just useless garbage, and she didn't need a boy with a limp dick who couldn't even get angry. Well, that wasn't me. No way was I going to put up with this state of affairs, even if fate had thrown me into this body.