One Spider to Fuck Them All (Spider Man)
Copyright© 2025 by sexdottxt
Chapter 3: Kissing Another Spider
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3: Kissing Another Spider - Living proudly as Spider-Man, Peter Parker has it made. A true hero, he takes great care of all he holds dear. But his young protege Miles longs to step out of his shadow and find his own way.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Consensual Reluctant Romantic Heterosexual Fan Fiction Superhero Cheating Interracial Black Male White Female Facial Masturbation Oral Sex Big Breasts Leg Fetish
The next day, Peter was at work at Baxter Labs. Working at the base of the Fantastic Four was the kind of job that paid well. Kept him safe from danger too, despite being such a big target, there was no way anyone but the most dedicated of threats would be able to break through, and if they did, they’d be in for one hell of a fight. Also kept him in the know on the going’s on of the superhero world. A nice reprieve to his life as Spider-Man.
Nominally anyway. He handled all kinds of dangerous and unsafe materials there, some that were uncategorized and had yet to be tested. But as long as he took the proper safety precautions, he always figured it would be okay.
Still, there was always that risk. Peter never disregarded it, but following proper protocol, it had almost become routine to him. The idea of ever being in danger was never a serious concern for him. He always had other things on his mind.
Today would prove to be different. They had just received a shipment of a new material. None of them knew what it was, just that it was unclassified and had yet to be properly analyzed. That left the labcoats to take a gander at what it was.
It was not to say that today Peter would grow overconfident. That he would shrug off the usual safety procedures in some foolhardy haste to get the job done. Or that it was confidence as Spider-Man spilling over into his regular life. Perhaps it was because of his secret life as a superhero that he took every precaution possible whenever he could. No less in a job as important as this one.
Peter didn’t see it when it happened. He was looking at a sample of the substance under a microscope. The atomic structure was unlike anything he had ever seen. Looking away, he took some notes as to what it might be. Then he took the sample, sequestered in between two slides.
He was wearing gloves. That did not keep a sliver of the thing from oozing out on it’s own and moving seemingly on it’s own. There was no other way to account for the way it moved up on Peter’s gloves and moved past them under his sleeves. It was not mere instinct, there was an intelligence to it, seeking the warmth of his body. He should have worn a hazmat suit.
He barely noticed it touch his skin. Or felt it seep past his pores and into his bloodstream. The only thing he cared about at that time was clocking out. His time was almost there.
And his time would be soon. As soon as he was out, he found his spider-suit and put it on. He met up with Miles at the appointed place. On top of a skyscraper, ready to patrol the city once again.
Miles was already there waiting for him. Like him, the second Spider-Man was already suited and ready to go. He stood up and said, “I’m early for once? This is new.”
Even with Peter masked, Miles noticed that it ticked something off in his mentor. A slight shift in the way he held himself. “That gonna be a problem?” He advanced towards his protege like a predator, there was no doubting what his intents were. They had disagreements before, had words with each other, and none of that compared to the hostility Peter was exuding now. The mean looking eyes of the spider suits were normally decorative only, after fighting alongside him Miles had gotten used to seeing them as thought they were Peter’s own eyes and thought nothing of it. But in a fight, they took on a whole new meaning and Miles took pride in the eyes of his own suit, how badass and scary it looked.
Miles never thought he’d be feeling that menace firsthand. He just held up his hands. “Whoa, relax. It was just a joke. Okay? Can we all be copacetic?”
Given how angry Peter was at that time, Miles kicked himself instantly for using that last word. Nothing inherently wrong with it, just a slip of the tongue from spending time at Visions. But it was definitely the kind of thing that depending on your company would make you seem like a smartass. Right now, that was the last thing he wanted.
Fortunately nothing came of it. Peter just did an about face and turning around, went to the parapets of the skyscraper. Then he cast out his webslinger and began their daily routine. Breathing a sigh of relief, Miles followed suit.
They didn’t say anything during their patrol over the New York City streets. Neither of them said a word to each other. Not exactly the most pleasant thing after that earlier exchange, but at least there wasn’t any overt hostility. At the same time, as Miles was following Peter, slinging from building to building, he noticed an unmistakable ferocity in his mentor’s movements. It was so wild that more than a few times he thought Peter was going to either slip up and fall or deliberately crash headfirst into one of the windows on the many buildings. Fortunately neither happened.
When it was sunset, Miles breathed easy. He didn’t know what was eating Peter, but he wanted to get this awkward meeting over. He hoped things would be better tomorrow.
Just like last time, Peter landed on over to his apartment’s balcony. MJ was already there waiting for him, looking ravishing as usual. Plainclothes, just a pair of sweats and a long sleeved shirt, nothing as racy as that split open robe like yesterday, but a woman that gorgeous could be in a garbage bag and make it look like a dress. Naturally Miles always appreciated the sight of her even if she wasn’t so exposed like yesterday.
But he had a more pressing concern this time than just admiring the scenery. He slung steadily from a distance, watching him, feeling a worry in his gut at what might happen after Peter’s strange and heated behavior. He would let things play out as they needed to.
But just as he intended to play the part of the unsuspecting spider himself, it began raining hard. Their webslingers were tougher than they looked, Miles could only begin to imagine what Peter felt when he slung for the first time, the thin substance not only supporting someone as heavy as the average human but also keeping them aflight over long distances at high speeds. Still, as durable as it was, rain always worried Miles on a visceral level. No disasters had ever happened, yet it always seemed like a bit of a risk, like something that threatened to complicate things. He figured no matter how strange a day today had been, Peter would understand.
The couple had gone inside. Miles had just landed on the balcony behind them. He was getting ready to open the door, explain things. But just as he was looking down, trying to find the words to explain his sudden intrusion, he heard a sudden crash inside.
Miles looked up. He saw Peter was glowering over MJ, saw the fragments of a plate shattered on the floor. His back was turned, but there was no denying the fury in him, he looked more like the incredible Hulk in a fit of bestial rage than the amazing Spider-Man. MJ was shaking.
He wouldn’t wait a second longer. Miles hoped neither of them had locked the slider door, otherwise he’d have to smash it. And that would look like a breaking and entering. As much as he was on good terms with these two, they could use that against him. Bad enough being black, with that kind of thing breathing down his neck he might even be expelled from Visions.
Miles breathed a sigh of relief when door opened no problem. That relief didn’t last when Peter spun around to look at Miles with that speed fed by pure rage. Still suited from head to toe, the unrelenting malice made his spider suit look like no mere costume but his real skin, a monster that hopped out of some movie come to life. Going up against the real OG and king, he might be out of his depth for the first time.
Peter threw the first punch. It didn’t connect, Miles dodged at the last minute. But he could still feel the speed and power behind it. Knowing what he was up against, he rolled away from Peter, fearing another strike in quick succession.
He was right. Peter was totally on the offensive, focusing entirely on him, throwing punches and kicks. Miles didn’t begin to know how he would get a strike in edgewise. More than that, he was worried about the surrounding area. Miles had been able to contain the conflict within the center of the living room, away from the rest of the furniture, moving back in a circular pattern to keep Peter’s attention and away from the rest of the area. If too much noise was made, the neighbors might get the wrong idea. Then the cops might show up and he’d have to fight every instinct in him not to bail. With Peter in his current mindset, he might even reveal his real name to them. That could lead to all kinds of trouble he didn’t need.
Miles fast saw the problem with Peter’s fighting style. He was moving so wildly that for all the power behind each strike, his moves were sloppy and reckless. The king had taught him all about hand to hand fighting, the exact kind of techniques that would drop some of the biggest and baddest dudes he knew back in the hood in an instant no matter how small or skinny you were. Including how not to leave yourself open.
Miles wasn’t little or scrawny by any measure, and all sense of alarm had left him. Here the king was making those same mistakes he warned this young black knight of in the first days of taking him under his wing. Despite the violence of the situation, he felt a sort of pride at that point in time.
But Miles couldn’t afford to get into a long and extended fight. For all of Peter’s amateur mistakes, there was no doubting the speed and fury in each movement, and he was still one of the strongest people Miles ever knew. He had to end this one fast before he was sucked into it like a maelstrom.
Miles crouched down low on one knee and held up his dukes. A deceptively submissive position that invited the attacker to pounce on their target. But in the hands of a master, it made all sorts of moves possible. It’s power was a true test of skill, the technique of the submissive to subvert the aggression of the foe.
Or the fool. Peter’s mental state was more like an animal than a man. Coming at his apprentice like a drunken thug in a bar instead of a warrior, Miles rose up in turn at just the right moment so that he was face to face within the span of his Peter arm reach. Now his apprentice was too close for Peter to take a swing at him or even kick him back, and in the time he would move his arms and grab Miles, he would have already taken several hits by that point.
That’s exactly what happened. Miles fast delivered a series of strikes to Peter’s stomach and face, that close and quick they weren’t as strong as they could be. But he hit exactly where he needed to, his pressure points in his neck and head. The difference between Peter raging out of a sudden swinging in fast and suddenly being knocked out was seconds apart.
MJ watched it silently. First Peter had gone into a rampage when she said that she hadn’t made dinner yet, and then Miles put him in his place. She hadn’t known it yet, everything was so fast and sudden, but she was beginning to see both of them in a new light. Her husband and the younger one.
Miles was encasing Peter within his own webbing. It wasn’t normal for him to act that way, both that anger and the sloppy way he was fighting. He knew something else had poisoned his mentor’s mind. But he was thinking on what he should do.
He looked up at MJ. So many emotions on that face. For once he wasn’t thinking about what a goddess this woman was. He shared her sentiments exactly. And then the idea sprang up in his head.
“Listen, I’m gonna take Peter down to the Fantastic Four. If there’s anyone who can help him, it’s them. I’ll let you say some things to him before I go. I’ll be waiting outside.”
He slung a web up on the ceiling of the balcony above him and hung upside down there with his feet on the ceiling, making the call. It wasn’t too long, strictly business even after he spilled on what happened, Richards had a habit of doing that. So polite that you couldn’t tell whether the man was that professional or he was patronizing. Then Miles hung up and sat there looking over the city.
It had been one hell of a day. Hanging upside down had been awkward the first time he did it, and even after getting a knack for it, it still felt strange. He felt that first time feeling of vertigo all over again. He hoped the Fab Four would know what to do. It was still raining and his mood was just as foul as that.
He heard the slider door open behind him. Knew it was MJ, didn’t think too much of it. Even with how badly it was pouring, he heard her clearly say his name. He didn’t know if his nerves were on edge or it was just the worry of having knocked out her husband, but her voice, so naturally fair on it’s own, sent shivers up his spine.
Miles gulped. “Y-yeah?” Nothing like the hero who just saved her life. Called himself Spider-Man, had gone up against all sorts of villains. Still very much a boy when it came to women.
“Come down here.”
“Alright.” Not dropping to his feet, instead Miles just let himself droop down from the thread of silk on the ceiling to meet her, still hanging upside down. Beneath the mask, his eyes found hers, looking right at him. Contrary to what MJ thought, he wasn’t afraid. He had talked to girls that he normally never thought he’d cross paths with otherwise while at Visions. White girls too, ones from upper class families that would never even have known he’d existed otherwise. Whatever little fear at that time he had came from delivering a knockout to the one person people actually associated with the name Spider-Man.
She didn’t know that, but she was fast rethinking her notion of him as nervous and scared. Wasn’t the only thing she knew about him either. She had seen the way he looked at her, it wasn’t a feeling she was unused to, from boys and even other girls too. It was never just a look of desire, there was so much more meaning in it. Whether to crave her or destroy her, she had developed a sixth sense on how people saw her. She was so much more than a pretty face.
Peter Parker was one of the few guys who didn’t see her as either. She could tell he liked her from the beginning, and that was fine. But he didn’t see her as something to own. More than being Spider-Man, that was what made her fall for him.
The first time she met Miles Morales, she saw the same look on his face. A look of want as was expected of any guy let alone a boy but nothing else, a bit of innocence in there too, both not present on the faces of so many other men who she met with on a regular basis. Full of so many lecherous intentions no matter how much they tried to cover it up. But however much they wanted her, these two had been different.
Until now. She had never seen that kind of look on Peter’s face before. It had only been for an instant, but she saw it. She didn’t want to believe it. And then he grabbed her shoulders with a viciousness totally unlike him but more befitting some thug. Before he could even begin to act, she pushed him away on instinct. Only for him to try and push her down. In a fit of self preservation on instinct and nothing based on thought, she crashed one of the plates into his head as hard as she could.
He was unfazed. He shook his head, pure fury shaking off him, then snatched the plate from her and threw it onto the floor, breaking it into so many pieces. If Miles hadn’t come in, she didn’t know what would have happened.
And she was alone with her savior. The rain pouring on the both of them, she reached for the underside of his mask and peeled it down, baring his naked mouth to her. His naturally big lips, the rain pouring down on his dark skin, she could see how tense he was, how innocent his breaths were. A normal woman like her was powerless compared to the both of them. After surviving that harrowing incident and now alone with her savior, right now she never felt stronger. She would give him the reward he deserved.
Miles couldn’t believe what was happening. Her soft fingers and expertly manicured nails touching his skin as she peeled his mask down, it sent shivers down his spine. That feeling of vertigo during his first time hanging returned with a vengeance. Just as he barely began to open his mouth to speak, to utter something, anything, she kissed him.
Her lips were so soft on his. Miles sat there motionless as she rubbed them, so full and warm, on his, stirring a warm and buzzing feeling in his chest. His first kiss with a female, let alone someone so much older than him, and it was the girl of his dreams. In that rain, he felt like he was going to melt.
She would not stop. He felt her open her mouth to caress his lips with hers even deeper, he almost gasped feeling her warm breath on his mouth for the first time, tasting the faint and sweet taste of peppermint from her mixed in with the falling rainwater pouring on their faces. He felt a growing fire in his loins, the only thing keeping him from acting on it, taking her as he wanted to, were so many thoughts going wild in his head. That whole time she kept on doing it, held his face firm with her soft fingers.
The first time he moved his lips back on hers, it felt so natural to him. He also knew it was clumsy, it couldn’t begin to compare to hers and with the feeling of vertigo still going on, it felt even stranger, like he was crushing on a woman for the first time as a little boy. But she didn’t say anything and he didn’t care. Slowly, sensually, they tasted each other, wanted each other.
She pushed her tongue into his mouth first. The hardness in his pants was growing and he didn’t care anymore about propriety, wrapping his around hers right back, flicking it as she did to him. Then by an instinct as deep as blood, their tongues were deep in each other’s mouths. He tasted the rain, he tasted her, and there was nothing else he cared about. That feeling of vertigo was replaced with an all too intense feeling of feverish need.