Spidey lay there tormented. His hot, horny hero hole now filled with two of the Wasp’s lycra-covered fingers. He felt them filling up his fairly-tight butthole, while enjoying the arousal the feeling of the fabric caused as the villain worked his Spidey hole open. Spidey groaned as he felt the Wasp’s fat digits spread apart his asshole.
Spidey looked up groggily wondering what had happened to him. His back ached and his muscles felt sore. But at the same time he was aware of the tight sheerness all over his body. The snugness of the weblon body sock was massaging and hugging every inch of his sinewy frame. The only remnant of his suit he could feel was his mask.
Peter Parker hadn’t slept well in weeks. He was constantly tormented by dreams of his last and almost total defeat by a new villain called the Wasp. Once again Pete (aka Spidey) had failed to keep his arousal in his lycra under control and he let the hot body and outline of the villain’s fat cockhead in the tights get the best of him.
