+18
Extra 8
The bed creaked.
Peter held me tight as he took me.
"Mm… mmh, mmnn…!"
Our tongues tangled as he thrust into me again and again. Slick, obscene noises echoed from where our fluids mixed together.
When I clung to him harder, he clung back just as fiercely. His body was nothing like mine—muscular, firm, unyielding.
The grinding pressure deep inside sent me over the edge countless times. …Peter had already come three times.
Now it was the fourth… Maybe that’s why it was harder for me to climax. He probably meant to savor me longer this round.
But in contrast, I only grew more sensitive. No matter how many times I came, Peter wouldn’t stop.
"Nguh… mmn… mmmh…"
His tongue filled my mouth, his cock pounded deep inside me, and his arms locked me tight against him—ravishing me completely.
It felt like he was carving into me that I belonged to him, and I loved it. It hurt a little, but even that felt good.
He squeezed me close—and then released inside me.
…And no, I didn’t think that meant I was free.
Peter slipped off the used condom and tore open a new wrapper. The fifth round was about to begin.
In the end, that day we went eight rounds. Peter’s superhuman stamina was terrifying even in bed.
He really was a Spider-Sex Beast.
Next time I go buy condoms… maybe I should get smaller packs. That’s what I thought, trembling and weak-kneed.
When I woke up, I was sprawled naked in bed. …I must have passed out afterward.
The room smelled faintly of sweat. Beside me, Peter was asleep—also naked.
I shuffled over and stroked his head. His sleeping face was so cute… well, he’s cute even before sex.
It’s only during sex that he gets a little rough. Honestly, I wonder if anyone else could even handle it.
Ah, no… it’s not like I want him doing it with anyone else. Just a figure of speech.
As I stroked him, Peter’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked at me, groggy, unfocused.
"Good morning, Peter."
"…Yeah. Morning."
He pulled me into a half-asleep hug. …And then promptly drifted back toward dozing.
…Well, today we both had the day off. We could sleep until noon.
With his arms around me, I let myself drift back to sleep. Napping away the daylight spilling through the window felt… perfect.
Noon.
Peter shuffled out of bed and started a load of laundry while I boiled pasta.
I wasn’t much of a cook, but I could handle boiling noodles. I dumped in a can of clams, added butter, pepper, and garlic. No real name for it, but it was edible.
We split it into two bowls and ate together. …Too oily. I’d messed it up today.
I turned on the TV, only to hear Jameson ranting against Spider-Man again. I smirked and flipped the channel.
Peter did the dishes.
"Michelle, where should we go today?"
"Hmm…?"
I hesitated, then suggested a casual walk.
We changed into outdoor clothes and headed out together. I locked the door with the spare key Peter had given me, then walked close beside him—holding hands, of course.
This was Peter’s hometown, Queens. We wandered side streets, window-shopping. At a stand, we bought a ridiculous soft-serve covered in rainbow sprinkles, sharing bites as we walked.
We laughed at squirrels darting through a park—until I noticed someone running by who looked oddly squirrel-like. I quickly looked away. Making eye contact felt like I’d get bitten.
Back on Main Street, the crowds grew thick. We pressed close so we wouldn’t get separated.
"Oh."
A wedding dress in a shop display caught my eye. The store seemed to offer wedding planning.
"…Michelle, you like that sort of thing?"
"Mm… If I ever get married, I’d want a wedding ceremony."
"…Yeah. I figured. Right."
Peter’s eyes flicked to the rental fee under the gown, his mouth twitching at the price. He was already thinking of how to manage it, I could tell.
He wasn’t treating it like someone else’s problem. That thoughtfulness made my heart skip.
Because that meant—he didn’t doubt that one day he’d marry me.
Still, that was far off.
Peter had just passed his GED and college entrance exams. Starting this summer, he’d be a university student.
He didn’t plan to marry while still in school. He wanted to graduate, find steady work, then marry me—that was his vision.
Responsible as ever. For our future happiness, I’d wait.
As we walked on, we passed a baby goods store.
…Peter’s child.
Yes, we had sex, but never with the intent of making a baby. We were careful, always using protection. Our intimacy was about love, not children—yet.
I wanted to go natural, but I held back. That was for after marriage—we both silently understood that.
Still, condoms weren’t a perfect safeguard. If I did get pregnant while he was in school, Peter said he’d take responsibility and marry me sooner.
But even knowing that, I’d never poke holes in the condoms. I wasn’t that reckless.
Yeah.
The baby goods store was still too early for us.
So we passed it by.
The next stop was a drugstore. …We’d used up the last of our condoms yesterday, so we needed to restock.
Peter insisted on paying in full, but he was a poor college student, and I was already working. I decided to cover half.
I forcibly pressed some money into Peter’s hand.
He went to the register to buy the condoms with an utterly pitiful expression.
His face at that moment was ridiculously cute. My little life hack.
After finishing shopping, we walked through Queens again—
"Oh, Michelle. What a coincidence."
We ran into Gwen. Her gaze flicked to the hands Peter and I were holding… and I blushed so hard that I let go.
"A… date?"
"D-date… What about you, Gwen?"
I glanced behind her and saw a figure carrying an absurd amount of bags. …I couldn’t see their face through all the packages, but I knew who it was.
That was Harry.
"I… well, not exactly a date," I said.
…Harry looked miserable.
But I was pretty sure he insisted on carrying all that himself. He had a rule: never let a girl carry his stuff.
"You bought a lot."
"Huh? Oh… clothes, just clothes. So… Michelle, what did you get?"
"Ah, wait—"
Gwen peeked into the plastic bag I was holding, and her eyes went wide. …She must have seen the condoms we’d just bought.
Her gaze flicked from me to Peter, then back to me.
"H-hey? You… you’ve come that far…?"
She sounded shocked, yet tried to cover it up casually, her voice cracking in embarrassment. Rustling noises came from behind her.
"G-Gwen? Is something wrong?"
Harry, whose view was blocked by the bags, asked.
"You… you shouldn’t look, Harry…"
"Huh?"
"I’ll tell you later… now, come on, let’s go."
"H-Hey, wait—"
Harry was pulled along, leaving with Gwen. I waved to her, and she waved back.
…Peter’s expression was painfully awkward.
"…What’s wrong?"
"Nothing… Harry just… uh, hmm."
He looked at me with a sympathetic expression. I tilted my head and spoke.
"Going out together on a day off… you two aren’t exactly average either."
"…Is that how it seems?"
"Huh?"
"Well… you just looked like a slave being bossed around…"
"Ah…"
It was true; he did seem a little under Gwen’s thumb.
…But I’d cheer for them anyway.
At least Gwen’s type—rich, kind, tall, handsome—Harry probably fits that. Honestly, the only super-darling I know like that is Harry.
The sun was starting to dip.
Peter and I went into a casual, family-friendly restaurant for dinner. We didn’t skip dessert.
After eating, we headed to the supermarket. We restocked the milk we’d run out of, the pasta we’d used, and some breakfast rolls. I also picked up pudding, chocolate, and marshmallows.
We made sure to return home before it got dark. That was the safest way to avoid getting caught up in any troublesome incidents.
We put the groceries away and took turns showering. If we showered together, it would inevitably lead to sex, so we deliberately avoided that.
After changing into pajamas, we put on a movie. We munched on chocolate flakes while watching a spy-action film.
Exciting, suspenseful… though, honestly, I kept thinking, If it were me, I’d do this… which periodically ruined the tension.
When the credits rolled—
"Time to sleep?"
"…Mm."
We brushed our teeth side by side at the sink. There was only one cup, so we rinsed alternately.
An indirect kiss? At this point, it didn’t matter.
We climbed into the same bed together… and just like that, a completely ordinary day came to an end.
"Good night, Peter."
"Yeah, good night, Michelle."
A light kiss, a hug… and we drifted into sleep.
With Peter, I could sleep peacefully. No painful memories came back. Truly… quietly.
"…Thank you, Peter."
I whispered it softly, just loud enough for him not to hear, and hugged him tightly. It was a deeply happy… completely uneventful day—just mine.
By the way, completely uneventful days happen only about once every three times. Something usually happens—an incident, a crisis that calls Spider-Man into action.
…Still, even then, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s a truly happy day.
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