[ A shame she can only imagine those Goosebumps, while he's still clad in his spider-suit. But for now, Peter waits for an opportune moment to ditch his own ensemble, its snugness seeming all the more restricting the longer he goes on wearing it. Felicia exercising some mercy here by sitting on him so gently, it just makes the promise of anything further all the more tantalizing. Which is why all the proof she's gonna need of him being tantalized is already taut and upright between his legs-- nothing his suit's equipped to hide. ]
See for yourself, Ca- Felicia.
[ Even in some of his own bashfulness, he tries to squeeze a joke in there. A light jab at her, but perhaps also... a show of understanding. That they share the same priorities, and aren't here to fuck each other's counterparts. They're here for themselves. And when she talks about him webbing himself, he can't help but laugh. ]
Afraid it'll get all over the place, eh?
Well tell me, then. How are you gonna make me web myself?
[ ...That sounded sexier in his head. At least he doesn't have to dwell on it for too long, as Felicia embarks on a tangent about their past antics. It's something, alright: the youthful vigor when they came together, conspiring towards their trysts with the eagerness of dumb teenagers. ]
Huh?
[ That's him struggling to pay attention to Felicia's story. What with her up in his grill, cupping all evidence of his arousal that only hardens against her hand, Peter's a little lost. A little too desiring to maintain a presence of mind. And then she has to play with his lip, torment him with all these little gestures while he's petrified. Less from or fear, but from... amazement. The surreal understanding that he's under the care of an utter bombshell. ]
Yeah, yeah. I follow.
You wanna make a whole show of it? Fine. No holding back.
[ But if he wants to commit, he has to forego all that petrification. And his first move is to reach for the bottom of his shirt and pull it up (yes, it's a two-piece, like that of another agile vigilante who heckles his enemies), tossing it on the discard pile shortly thereafter. If Felicia's gonna offer herself up as a treat in all her nakedness, Peter feels a need to follow suit. To give her more she can appreciate, now that some of his physical endowments are no longer concealed by latex. Before her now is the lean mass of an Olympic gymnast, swelling with power that would seem to contract his high-flying agility... but proves, instead, to compliment it. ]
The waist down, I can also ditch. Kinda wanna set this bad boy free.
[ Yes, he's really talking about his own dick that way. ]
Unless you're willing to do the honors?
[ She's also sitting on him, which another reason he asks. But screw logistics, this is about what's sexy! ]
no subject
See for yourself, Ca- Felicia.
[ Even in some of his own bashfulness, he tries to squeeze a joke in there. A light jab at her, but perhaps also... a show of understanding. That they share the same priorities, and aren't here to fuck each other's counterparts. They're here for themselves. And when she talks about him webbing himself, he can't help but laugh. ]
Afraid it'll get all over the place, eh?
Well tell me, then. How are you gonna make me web myself?
[ ...That sounded sexier in his head. At least he doesn't have to dwell on it for too long, as Felicia embarks on a tangent about their past antics. It's something, alright: the youthful vigor when they came together, conspiring towards their trysts with the eagerness of dumb teenagers. ]
Huh?
[ That's him struggling to pay attention to Felicia's story. What with her up in his grill, cupping all evidence of his arousal that only hardens against her hand, Peter's a little lost. A little too desiring to maintain a presence of mind. And then she has to play with his lip, torment him with all these little gestures while he's petrified. Less from or fear, but from... amazement. The surreal understanding that he's under the care of an utter bombshell. ]
Yeah, yeah. I follow.
You wanna make a whole show of it? Fine. No holding back.
[ But if he wants to commit, he has to forego all that petrification. And his first move is to reach for the bottom of his shirt and pull it up (yes, it's a two-piece, like that of another agile vigilante who heckles his enemies), tossing it on the discard pile shortly thereafter. If Felicia's gonna offer herself up as a treat in all her nakedness, Peter feels a need to follow suit. To give her more she can appreciate, now that some of his physical endowments are no longer concealed by latex. Before her now is the lean mass of an Olympic gymnast, swelling with power that would seem to contract his high-flying agility... but proves, instead, to compliment it. ]
The waist down, I can also ditch. Kinda wanna set this bad boy free.
[ Yes, he's really talking about his own dick that way. ]
Unless you're willing to do the honors?
[ She's also sitting on him, which another reason he asks. But screw logistics, this is about what's sexy! ]