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Peter Parker was a little worried. Usually, his beautiful wife MJ texted him to let him know whether or not she got the part or not but she'd been oddly quiet. He'd tried texting her earlier to ask about how the Breaking Bad audition went but she didn't
respond (not knowing that desperate meth addict MJ only cared about getting jobs to get paid in order to get meth). He hoped that it hadn't gone so well that she'd broken down and done the other audition her agent had set up for her. Peter knew she wanted
to be seen as a serious actress, not just a sex object, and yet another bimbo role in some direct-to-video American Pie raunch-fest could only be a step down for . . .
"Hiya, cutie!" came a high-pitched voice he vaguely recognized as Mary Jane's as the door to their apartment swung open. "You'll, like, totally never guess what happened to me!"
Peter's eyes went wide at the sight of his wife. She'd always been sexy but now she looked just like she did back in her college days - well, almost just like in her college days. The MJ from back then certainly didn't dress in just a skimpy blue bikini top,
blue spandex booty shorts that showed off a pink g-string and slutty 7-inch wedge platform heels with her red hair done up in handlebar pigtails. Most of all, his wife had always been busty but never quite like that!
Her enormous, impossibly perky tits jiggled almost a full foot in front of her as she ran over to cover her husband in kisses. She'd have to have had grown at least two cup sizes since he'd seen her that morning! With effort, he looked her in the eyes, only
to see that they'd gotten even bigger and more wide-eyed, alongside lips that had gotten poutier and were coated in come-fuck-me red lipstick.
"I like, totally, got the part and stuff!" she giggled, one hand reaching down to massage his cock eagerly, cooing and pulling down his pants as she spoke. "They said I was, like, totally the best bimbo ever!"
"Wanna fuck me to, um, . . . celebrate?" she added, her breathy bimbo voice stretching out the last word like she could barely understand what it meant, even if the rest of her sexy body was making her desires perfectly clear.
Uncaring about what happened to her then rival, Black Cat tapped her teeth and chuckled. Catwoman and Mary Jane had horned in on what she thought was "hers" but there were still plenty of other bitches who she would and could happily take down a peg.
"Hmm. There's that bitch Power Girl. I know she thinks I'm just a cheap slut who only gets out of trouble by blowing Spider-Man. Of course, she wasn't the one to put me in fucking prison - it was that bitch friend of hers, Terra. Stuck-up little goody two-shoes
covered me in fucking rock and left me for the police after lecturing me! What a fucking twat. Maybe I'll make Little Miss Priss see how much she likes being told what to do when I make her do whatever anybody else tells her. Oh, and maybe give Power Tits
a little compulsion or two . . . or three . . ."
Grinning evilly, Felicia began tapping away on the keys, using the Master PC to get some much deserved payback.
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