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Spider-Man Mayham (AU) Chapter 390: Beach Trip (8) R18
🕑 Added 2025-11-20 00:50:49 +0000 UTC[Third Person Pov]
Gwen's head tilts back against Peter's shoulder as he adjusts, her back arching to press her body more fully against his. "Mmm, that's better," she murmurs, her hands coming up to rest on his thighs as she subtly grinds her hips in slow circles against his erection.
"Having a little trouble focusing on the road?" she teases, her words carrying that husky, playful quality that always makes Peter's pulse race.
He exhales sharply through his nose, his grip tightening on the handles as he keeps the jet ski moving in a slow arc. "You have no idea," he admits, the words emerging rough. The warm sunlight glints off the water as Peter maintains the jet ski's slow drift, his breathing uneven and labored as Gwen's movements create delicious friction against his crotch. Her hands slide up his thighs, fingers teasing the sensitive inner skin as she presses her back firmly against his chest.
"That's what I thought," she murmurs, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she feels the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against her. Gwen's movements become more purposeful now, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles that make Peter's entire body tense with restraint.
"Gwen..." He warns, his grip on the handles whitening as he fights to keep the jet ski steady despite the overwhelming sensation of her body moving against his. The warm sun beats down on them, the water rocking the vessel gently as she intensifies her rhythm. Gwen lets out a soft moan as she feels Peter's breath coming in ragged bursts against her neck, his hands flexing against the handles like he's trying to physically ground himself.
"Relax," she coos, reaching back to brush her fingers along the side of his face before turning it to press a slow, teasing kiss against his jaw. Her free hand moves lower, fingers dancing over the growing bulge in his swim trunks with featherlight touches.
"I'm trying," Peter grits out, though his body betrays him as his hips jerk involuntarily into her teasing touch. The jet ski wavers slightly in its drift as he's forced to divide his attention between steering and the overwhelming pleasure Gwen is coaxing from him. Her fingers trace the outline of his erection through the damp fabric, her touch alternating between gentle caresses and firmer pressure along his length.
"You're doing so well," Gwen praises, her words warm and coaxing as she nuzzles against Peter's neck. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin there before she sucks lightly, leaving behind a faint red mark. Peter lets out a ragged groan, his head falling back as Gwen's mouth finds his neck again.
The jet ski veers slightly off course before he regains control, his breath coming in shallow gasps as she continues teasing him through the thin fabric. The water laps gently against the sides of the vessel as Gwen's fingers dance over his erection, her touch both maddeningly light and infuriatingly deliberate.
"Gwen, you're killing me here," he manages between gritted teeth, his hips twitching instinctively toward her hand. Every brush of her fingers sends fresh jolts of sensation through his body, making it nearly impossible to focus on steering.
Gwen's laughter is low and musical as she feels Peter's body tense and quiver under her touch. She presses her hips back against him in time with her fingers, creating delicious friction along both sides of the equation. "Am I?" she asks innocently, though the husky quality in her words and the way her own breathing quickens betrays how much she's enjoying this.
Her fingers slide beneath the waistband of his trunks, her palm finally coming into direct contact with his hot, aching flesh. Peter's entire body jerks when she wraps her fingers around him, his grip on the jet ski handles turning white-knuckled as she begins to stroke him with slow, deliberate movements.
"Fuck." The word tears from his throat like a prayer, raw and desperate as Gwen's clever fingers work their magic on him. He loses all pretense of trying to keep the jet ski steady, letting it drift lazily in the calm waters as he surrenders completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body.
"God, I need you," he gasps, his voice thick with need as he turns his head to find Gwen's lips. Their mouths crash together in a searing kiss, teeth clashing slightly in their hunger before Gwen deepens it, her tongue sliding against his in a slow, sensual dance.
The kiss is filthy and all-consuming, Gwen's mouth opening wider to take Peter deeper, her tongue sliding against his with possessive strokes as her hand continues moving along his length. Her hips grind against him in time with her movements, creating an exquisite friction that has Peter moaning into her mouth. The heat between them radiates in the open air, the sun beating down as sweat prickles across his skin.
"You taste so good," Gwen murmurs against his lips, breaking the kiss only to trail open-mouthed along his jaw and neck. Her fingers tighten slightly around him as she increases the pace of her strokes, her thumb swiping over the sensitive head with every upward motion.
"I'm sorry but I can't hold back anymore" Peter said Gwen's breath hitches when Peter whispers those words against her ear, his teeth grazing her earlobe as he moves. His hips jerk involuntarily into her grip, his entire body taut with the effort of holding back.
The water laps gently at the sides of the jet ski as it drifts lazily, their small vessel a world unto itself in the vast ocean. Peter's hands leave the handles entirely now, sliding around to grip Gwen's hips as he pulls her flush against him. Her back arches instinctively, pressing her ass firmly against his erection as his fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips.
"Then don't," she breathes, turning her head to meet his gaze. Peter doesn't need to be told twice. His hands slide up her body with purpose, pushing the loose fabric of her bikini top up to expose her breasts to the warm air and sunlight. His palms cup the full mounds, thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples as Gwen arches into the touch with a soft moan.
"Fuck, I love how you feel," Peter growls, his teeth scraping lightly along the back of her shoulder as his hands explore the soft, sensitive skin of her chest. Gwen's head falls back against him, her fingers tightening around his cock as she matches the roll of her hips to the rhythm of his touch.
Peter's hands slide down from her breasts, one dipping below the waistband of her bikini bottoms to find the wet heat between her thighs. His fingers part her folds with ease, two slipping inside as his thumb circles her clit in slow, relentless circles.
"Oh god," Gwen gasps, her body tensing as pleasure jolts through her. Her hips grind against his hand, seeking more friction as Peter's fingers work her with expert precision. The contrast between the cool ocean breeze and Peter's warm body pressed against her back makes every touch that much more intense. Her free hand reaches back to tangle in his hair, holding him close as she grinds against his fingers.
"Look at you." Peter speaks roughly, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. "So wet for me already. You've been teasing me for so long, Gwen."
Gwen moans in response, her body quivering as Peter adds a third finger, stretching her as his thumb continues its slow circles around her clit. Her inner walls clench around his fingers, drawing another groan from Peter as he imagines what she'll feel like around his cock.
"I want you inside me," she murmurs, pushing back against him, her movements growing more desperate as Peter's fingers bring her closer to the edge. Peter withdraws his fingers from her dripping pussy with a slick sound, immediately bringing them to his mouth to taste her. His eyes close momentarily as he savors her flavor, a low groan rumbling through his chest.
"Fuck, Gwen," he growls before turning her face toward his with a gentle but insistent hand on her chin. Their mouths crash together again, Gwen's taste mingling with Peter's own as he thrusts his tongue against hers. She moans into the kiss, her hands moving to grip his thighs as Peter reaches down to push his trunks past his hips, freeing his aching cock.
The moment his erection springs free, Gwen's hand finds it, wrapping around the thick shaft with confident ease. Peter groans against her mouth as her fingers tighten around him, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. His hands slide down to her bikini bottoms, tugging them aside impatiently.
The rough denim of his shorts presses against the bare skin of her ass as he grinds against her, his cock sliding through the cleft between her buttocks. The friction feels incredible against his sensitive length, and Peter's breath comes in short, ragged bursts as he nips at Gwen's shoulder.
"I need to be inside you." Gwen arches her back, rolling her hips in a slow, deliberate circle that has Peter's cock sliding against her slick folds. She parts them just slightly, letting the tip brush against her entrance without pushing inside. Peter's breathing falters, his hands tightening on her hips as he feels her heat teasing him.
"Do it," she breathes, pushing back just enough to let the head of his cock press inside. Peter groans loudly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he sinks into her an inch at a time. The tight, wet heat of her pussy envelops him, squeezing around his shaft as he fills her completely.
"Fuck." Peter speaks through gritted teeth, the sheer intensity of being inside her making him tremble. His hands slide up Gwen's body to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples as he begins moving his hips. Slowly at first, just shallow thrusts to savor every inch of her tight, wet pussy.
Gwen moans, her head falling back against his shoulder as she feels him stretching her open. Her inner walls flutter around his cock, adjusting to his size as he moves deeper on each thrust. One of her hands moves to brace against the front of the jet ski for balance, the other sliding up to grip the back of Peter's neck as she pushes back against him.
The rhythm of the waves against the sides of the jet ski becomes almost incidental, drowned out by the sounds of skin slapping skin and Gwen's breathy moans. Peter's thrusts grow more urgent as he grinds against her ass during every downstroke, the friction against her clit driving her wild. His hands roam her body possessively—one sliding down to rub tight circles around her clit while the other grips her hip to pull her back onto him harder.
"God, you feel so good," Peter growls in her ear, his thrusts becoming erratic as his climax builds. "Your pussy is fucking perfect." Gwen's breath catches as Peter's thrusts deepen, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside her with every movement. Her grip on the jet ski tightens, knuckles whitening as pleasure coils tight in her core. Peter's fingers work her clit with relentless precision, the dual stimulation overwhelming her senses.
"I'm close," she gasps, her back arching as Peter hits her G-spot with deliberate precision. The water splashes against the sides of the jet ski as he pounds into her harder, his hips slapping against her ass with each powerful thrust.
"That's it," Peter growls, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Come for me, Gwen. Let me feel it." Gwen's body tenses as Peter's words trigger her release, her inner walls clenching around his cock in rhythmic spasms that milk him toward his own climax.
A loud cry rips from her throat as waves of pleasure crash through her body, her hands tightening against the jet ski for support. Peter's thrusts become erratic as he feels her pulsing around him, his own orgasm building rapidly.
"Fuck—Gwen—" Peter's voice cracks as he slams into her one final time, his cock twitching deep inside her as he spills his release in hot pulses. His fingers dig into her hips as he holds her still, grinding against her ass as he empties himself completely. Panting heavily, Peter pulls out with a slick sound, leaving Gwen quivering and spent against the jet ski.
She leans forward, bracing herself against the handlebars as aftershocks still ripple through her body. The afternoon sun glistens off the water droplets on her skin, the salty air mingling with their combined scents.
"Jesus Christ," Peter mutters, running a hand through his hair as he attempts to catch his breath. His other hand stays planted on Gwen's hip, keeping her steady as she recovers. The jet ski rocks slightly with their movements, the engine still purring softly beneath them.
Gwen finally straightens up, turning to face Peter with a satisfied smirk, “Ready for round 2?”
“...You absolutely freak…” Peter said breathlessly, which only caused Gwen to break out into fits of giggles.
Comments
Bryan Vargas
😂😂
Mordivandros
Intercourse! :D
Mordivandros
Yay :D
