How Sue Storm Got Her Groove Back update

Then Peter was amazed to feel Sue reaching down the front of his pants, fumbling into the fly of his briefs until her fingers thrillingly closed around his pulsating shaft.

“Sue!” he gasped, unable to hold in his voice. He quickly covered: “Does it look to you like she has anything hidden back there?”

Her thumb swiped over the tip of his manhood, smearing the trickle of precum that had appeared there. He glanced at Felicia, but she was still looking away. Apparently she’d noticed nothing. Peter signaled to Sue frantically with his eyes, but he doubted she would have acknowledged him even if his mask could be seen through.

“Sue,” he finally rasped in a low whisper, “just what do you think you’re doing?”

But Sue only giggled, as if it should be bluntly obvious. Peter tried to summon up the strength of will to push her hand away, but the combination of Sue and Felicia had his sexual frustration at an apogee. The satisfaction Sue offered was too tempting for words. He gave in, looking at Felicia’s gorgeous postern, feeling his cock giving a heart-stopping jolt in Sue’s hand.

“Okay, Cat, turn around,” Sue said—Peter was too beguiled to realize what she’d said until it was too late. Felicia was facing them again and she saw Peter’s cock out in the open air, Sue’s hand pumping back and forth on its substantial length.

Felicia put on an exaggerated show of surprise, throwing up her arms in a way that made her lushly budding breasts leapt out at Peter’s face. The swelling hills of her sumptuous cleavage showed such smooth, creamy flesh that it was only Sue’s continuing massage of his prick that kept him in place rather than lunging on top of the cat burglar.

“You’re really something at giving men hard-ons,” Sue said, not unkindly. Keeping up her pistoning stroke on Peter’s cock. “But do you actually know what to do with them when they’re this stiff or are you all tease, no please?”

Felicia guffawed at the accusation. Didn’t dignify it with an answer. “What about you, Mrs. Robinson? Do you just like to watch?”

“I like to do everything,” Sue said, and unzipped her costume.

Felicia followed suit. Peter was so busy trying to decide who to look at, it took him a moment to realize he should be disrobing too. By the time he had his pants off, both women stood before him naked.

Her pale skin shining in the moonlight, while her hair and white boots and white gloves downright gleamed, Felicia approached Peter. Jiggling her awe-inspiring breasts with each step to feel his eyes hot and fervent on them. Then, turning around slowly, she showed him the sculpture of her ass, the ass that he was going to be using in a minute.

In no time at all, Peter’s costume was on the ground and he was pressing his naked body to Felicia’s. Sue hung back, watching them.

As they kissed, Peter ran his hands down Felicia’s supple back to the generous swell of her ass. Seeing how he cupped those soft, luscious cheeks in all their extravagant fleshiness, Sue felt better about her own post-pregnancy fullness. It was obvious Peter liked having plenty to get his hands on.

Felicia purred as she felt his prick rising hard against her bare thigh. “How about we get comfortable?” she asked Peter, shooting off a look at Sue. “Just like old times?”

Peter still wore his webshooters—a combination of paranoia and the possibilities for bondage keeping them on his naked wrists. He quickly wove a hammock between a chimney and an air conditioning unit, though Sue sat on it first. Then she moved over to make room for the other two.

Peter and Felicia kept kissing now that they were horizontal, Peter fondling her ass with one hand and filling the other with a large, pliant tit. Bowing his head, he caught the rosy nipple of her unmolested teat in his jaws and bit into it with gentle but growing force, until Felicia cried out in pleasurable shock.

“This what you do with the MILF?” she asked. “Mmmm… if she likes it rough, I can make her feel really good. Ohh! If she likes it that much, I might just keep her.”

Peter’s hand circled around Felicia’s hip to close over her sex. She moaned softly, shuddering when his index finger dipped into her slit. Sliding over the tender sensitivity of her G-spot. He knew just where to touch her, though much as she liked his fingers, Felicia wished a little bit that he was still wearing his gloves. The same way that no matter how good he kissed her, it was still so erotic with his mask on.

“Worry about making me feel good,” Peter said. “Show Sue you can swallow it all.”

Felicia’s eyes lit up playfully. “I’ll show her I can’t. Too much even for me—at least at the end.” She glanced at Sue like they were lovers with a shared secret. “He doesn’t need any of those cartridges to web a girl from head to toe, now does he?”

She ran her hand over Peter’s lean, muscular chest—down his chiseled abs—onto his hard member. Felicia gave his scrotum a quick grope, giggling naughtily at how firm his balls were, defying the modest pressure she put on them with only mild consternation to their owner, and then her white-tressed head was traveling downward.

Sue turned it invisible—all but Felicia’s lips and tongue—so she could watch. Holding his prick at its base, the cat burglar ran her tongue up and down the seamed vein running the length of Peter’s dick. She licked her way to his knob, then kissed a warm, wet pressure into it. Peter groaned lustfully and found her vivacious hair in its invisibility, tangling his fingers in the soft sheen of it.

“Good kitty,” he praised.

Felicia opened her mouth and took his prick inside. Her hand again squeezed his heavily laden balls, making Peter squirm in discomfort—but it wasn’t enough to hurt, only to excite.