Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines & Preferences (book 2)

Just my type (smut)

Peter didn't know how he had gotten here: One minute, he was just dodging another one of Flash's caustic remarks, minding his own business, just trying to get out of one field trip unscathed; and the next he was here... With you, the new girl, on his lap bouncing on his cock, in broad daylight on the top floor of the bus. Where anyone could come up at any minute. Where anyone could see.

It was wrong. It was dangerous. It was insanely hot.

And you were relentless: Labored breath, a fine sheen of sweat covering your face and your breasts, but you still showed no sign of being tired or slowing down, chasing your release. Riding him, using him, mercilessly. And he knew he didn't have any experience whatsoever so his input would probably be useless, but there was still one thing he could do.

He put his hands on your waist, to help you ride him faster, bunching the fabric of your pretty dress a little, making it ride up your thighs just enough to give him a glimpse of his thick cock disappearing inside you. He moaned at the sight, but you quickly slapped his hands away.

"Remember the rules, Peter..." You reminded him, breathily, "touch me, and this is over..."

"No... no, please!" He begged, pathetically, "please, I'll be good... I promise!"

"Atta boy" You approved, leaning over to place a little kiss on his lips, surprisingly chaste for your current activities, "And good boys get their rewards..."

You tighten your pussy muscles up, tearing a groan out of his throat. You pushed him around until he was lying flat across both seats, his head pillowed by the window. Satisfied with his new position, you leaned back a little, reaching behind you to cup his balls under your dress.

"Fuck!.. oh fuck! Right there!" he sobbed, "right there!"

"Shh, I know, baby," You cooed, soothingly, "I know..."

"I-I'm gonna..."

"Oh no, Spidey. You are going to wait for your fucking turn" You reprimanded him, turning your massages into a hard squeeze that had him crying out. An alarm went off inside Peter's head at you calling him 'Spidey', but soon your punishing rhythm and a strong grip on the base of his cock had him rolling his eyes inside his skull, brain melted into a useless puddle of goo.

You weren't any better, jumping up and down his hard length, your clit hitting your knuckle every time you took him in all the way, the sharp sting of the head of his cock colliding with your cervix giving you the extra edge you needed for the tightly coiled spring inside you to finally snap.

You could have ended it right then, after all, you had already gotten yours. But he had been so obedient, so good... He deserved a reward. Besides, it was going to be easier if you tired him out. Yeah, those were the only reasons.

Or at least, that's what you told your self as you braced yourself placing both hands on his muscular chest, drool-worthy even hid as it was under his plaid shirt, and rocked your hips in short quick strokes, your sensitized walls fluttering around him in the tiny aftershocks of your orgasm.

Peter's hands were blindly searching for purchase, and one of them found it on the edge of the seat he was lying on. You heard it crack under the force of his grasp and knew that, as reckless as you were being, you had been smart in not letting him put his hands on you.

"So good... you're so good... oh, fuuu-" His voice was pitched high and you knew he wasn't going to last much longer. You leaned over him to whisper at his ear,

"Come for me, baby" Baby? You frowned. Where had the endearment come from? He wasn't your baby. He wasn't yours, period. You would do better to remember what you were doing this for. "Come on Peter, come all inside me..."