Chapter 9: Good company, bad place

I barely had time to clean up and pick up M.J. before Thompson arrived. Funny enough, Mary Jane was just leaving the house to pick me up... that's the way it works around here: girls asking guys out, giving them gifts, showering them with compliments, walking them home, that sort of thing. We were just laughing about how our intentions matched when Thompson's car screeched on the brakes dangerously close to the Watson fence.

"Damn it, Audrey, I told you not to speed like that," Harry exclaimed from the front seat.

"Don't pout, kid, you know I'm a great driver," Flash leaned over to Osbourne and kissed him on the lips. Harry didn't push his girlfriend away, but he wasn't active himself either.

Yeah. I wish I could tell the Goblin of my world that his son is dating Flash Thompson! Ha! Yeah, Norman would eat his glider out of anger.

"Shall we go?" I led Mary Jane to the car and was about to help her inside, this Mercedes-Benz E-Class convertible was not equipped with rear doors, but the girl herself swung deftly over the frame. Only her short red skirt, clearly matched to her hair color, fluttered into the air.

Ha, different world, Peter - different rules! Good thing she didn't offer me a helping hand herself. I walked around the car and jumped in, too. I wonder how much more expensive Eugene's collectible PlymouthProwler was than this production Mercedes Audrey...well, at least this car has rear seats, I remember a drunk Mary Jane coming home sitting on the frame of that damn rarity. I don't even know what was in me more when I saw scenes like that: hatred for Flash or concern for MJ.

"Let's roll!" I yelled and clapped Audrey on the shoulder. "Let's get this party started."

It turned out that I had been right to choose the Bunker club as my date - Mary Jane was the lead singer in a band, and they had just recently had their first show here, so the admission for her friends was not free, but heavily discounted. Apparently, M.J. had a good time that night. And I didn't even think about it! I took the money, of course, but what if admission was strictly by invitation or ticket or something? I can't believe I'm saying this, but, damn it, I'm lucky that in this world it's the norm for girls to take care of such organizational matters. And because I also had to insist on paying my own entrance fee.

The girls took it strangely; to them it must have looked as if I was drawing a line between us, as if I indicated my intention not to cross the line of friendship, even Harry looked at me with disapproval... the hell with the traditions of the locals. But that's no reason to change myself, I just can't afford to become like the local effeminate men. Okay, Osborne, who even though he let Thompson pay for himself, and at times behaved unnecessarily mild, still looked almost normal in my eyes. But these natives... it physically hurt me to be in the same room with them. I thought the ones I saw on the street were strange... no way! What pops up here periodically...I'm speechless. A couple of anorexic, pink-clad guys making out in the middle of the dance floor to the cheers and applause wasn't the weirdest thing yet. And no, they weren't gay, they each came with a company of two girls, they just suddenly started dancing with each other and sucking on each other in full view of everyone.

At least I didn't lose face when we went dancing after a hundred grams of something Thompson had ordered for courage. I'd been a Michael Jackson fan since I was a kid, and I spent a lot of time dancing in front of the mirror with a pen in my hand. But I never had a voice or the courage to show off my skills... I was the laughingstock of the school.

Gwen Stacey was the first person to overcome my shyness and get me out to dance. By then confidence in my awkwardness was an integral part of my self-image, and not even the superhuman dexterity and flexibility I got from the spider prevented it. Childhood complexes aren't easy to get out of, especially in plain sight, especially if you're not wearing a saving mask.

Mary Jane was already surprised that I could keep up with her without looking like a clumsy nerd. Though without training, flexibility, and trivial muscle memory I shouldn't get my nose too far up, there's no moonwalking in this body, especially not with this commercial electrodance. And most here are just twitching to the rhythm, not having the slightest idea about dancing.

Meanwhile, Osborne and Thompson had disappeared somewhere in the crowd, and we were finally left to each other. The DJ changes the track - this time it's some gurgling Latin beat, just what we need. MJ has a good feel for the music and easily switches to smoother, closer movements. Very close.

Mary Jane presses her back against me, she wriggles so passionately, my sweaty palms roaming her body unimpeded. I'm hornier than I've ever been in my life, I think I can hear her heart beating frantically, even through the noise of the dance floor... or is it my own? It's some kind of trance.

Suddenly the music ends, and the dancers slow down, the hall sinks into silence and semi-darkness. I catch Mary Jane's hazy gaze; gradually the shroud of excitement fades from her eyes... embarrassment creeps into her face, she looks away, not knowing what to do in such a situation. Looking at her like this, I feel an unprecedented surge of joy in my chest. She is so innocent and sexy at the same time.

"Mary Jane," I call softly to her.

And she lifts her head to look me in the eyes one more time. I cautiously move closer and kiss her. I burrow my right hand into her hair, my left hand pulling M.J. close to me. My hand is only an inch above ecstasy and fall, I'm just happy in this moment, and my head is empty of thoughts.

She's so inept - just frozen, afraid to breathe, not daring to move, but this is one of the best kisses of my life. It's exactly the way it should be.

Finally the lights come on, M.J. shudders with her whole body and pulls away from me, as if she's afraid of being caught. I never knew Mary Jane like this, the girl I once married wouldn't hesitate to show everyone around her our intimacy...all because I'd been procrastinating for so long, and my first love had time to go from a fun girl to a mature, experienced woman. I continued to love her like that, but there was sadness in my heart, I regretted the time I had missed. This time would be different.

"Let's go to the bar," I suggested, and M.J. agreed.

In the huddle we squeeze through to the bar, there's no sign of Osborne or any other familiar faces. I hold a crimson M.J. tightly to me.

Two androgynous lesbians stare at us with their mouths open, envy in their eyes when they see Mary Jane, but they quickly turn away when our eyes meet. Uh-oh, how touching: one chick trying to be bushy, the other kind of feminine, but both look completely indistinguishable from each other. It seems like they're ready to move in together and live together, and they came here to at least pretend to flirt. Is it so hard for a girl to find a man in this world that she has to go to such tricks?

The bartender offers me another cocktail with a sly squint, but I order sparkling water - I didn't come here to get drunk, to which the girl just smirks indulgently. M.J. follows my example. In the past world she drank only in the company of the likes of Thompson; M.J. herself had an aversion to liquor, like most kids who know what an alcoholic father is. I have not seen her parents in this world, but I suspect that Mary Jane's childhood was not the quietest.

After taking a break, we went in search of Thompson and Osborne. It was M.J.'s idea, I think she was just looking for an excuse to buy some time to gather her thoughts. The two of them weren't on the main or back dance floor.

"Maybe they went out to get some air," I tried to hint that the couple, wherever they were, didn't want to be discovered. But M.J. didn't seem to get it.

"Yeah, it's kind of stuffy in here, shall we go outside?"

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"If you want to..." we cross the back dance floor and go out into the courtyard, but it's still crowded and we can't see our lovebirds. Mary Jane heads to the other end of the courtyard.

"Maybe we should stay here or go back to the dance floor," I suggest, because if they're there, they're not likely to enjoy our company. But the girl does not listen, is she so interested in what those two are doing, or is she just afraid to continue our kiss?

When we find ourselves in the littered and not particularly pleasant-smelling backyard, at first glance there doesn't seem to be anyone here either, but as soon as Mary Jane emerges from the neck formed by the exit from the main yard, she stops and then recoils back, right into my arms.

"Oh, you found them, congratulations, and what do you intend to do next?" I chuckle to myself.

Thompson presses Osborne against the wall of the back dance floor and kisses him passionately, yes she literally licks him, the girl's hands stroking the guy's crotch through his fly. And I better not hear him moaning.

Before anyone noticed us, I pulled MJ to the other side of the exit. Yeah, dirt, crusty cans, and used condoms underfoot, this place is very much in the spirit of the Flash Thompson I once knew. If Audrey has picked places like this before to grope and try to fuck Osborne...no wonder a decent guy like Harry still hasn't let Flash get to final base...and I'm afraid that joke isn't that far from the truth. Crazy World.

So what now, Mary Jane, are we going to stand here and listen to Thompson's heavy breathing and Osborne's groans, or risk a dash back into the yard through the lighted area? I lean into the frozen girl's ear and whisper:

"Is this what you wanted to see?"

She flinches and turns to me.

"No, I..." M.J. is quiet, unsure of what to say, and then she musters the courage to look me in the eyes."

She puts her hand on my chest and presses her whole body against mine, and then she gets up on her toes and tries to kiss me, unabashedly. We could have been kissing on the dance floor or in the clear courtyard of the club... eh, M.J. I return the kiss. This time Mary Jane wants to take the lead, even tries to use her sharp tongue, but in her inexperience she bares her teeth a few times with me.

We pull away, and I give the hesitant girl an approving smile. I remember how scary it was the first time. What it's like to be afraid of being rejected. I feel the unabashed touch of her hands on my pants.

"May I?" MJ asks in a low voice, she's trembling with excitement.

Wrong, this is all wrong. I'm beginning to understand Osborne - I don't want to do this in some dark backyard or alleyway, surrounded by beer cans and other trash. But I can see that it took all of her courage to make this move, I don't want to push her away now. After all, I don't think she'll go too far.

Instead of answering, I smirk and kiss MJ, much more roughly and demandingly than before, in a mature way: with passion, tongue in mouth, and biting lips. She moans into my mouth and closes her eyes, surrendering to the kiss, but she's not frightened and begins to move her hands more boldly to find the belt buckle and to fight the unyielding fly.

Finally she manages the clothes, releases my fighter and starts stroking him without stopping the kiss. But soon she can't get enough air and we pull away a little, the girl breathing heavily. Finally, thanks to the scent of perfume from MJ's hair, I stop feeling the stench of the place. She lowers her eyes to look at my erect cock... though erect is too loud a word... hey, weren't you more in a past life? What the... though, I'm sixteen again... um, I don't remember what age I reached my usual size. Wait a minute, this isn't about a spider bite... hell, I don't remember if getting a superpower affected that. At the time I was only cheating on my right hand with my left hand, and these young ladies are not picky about size. At least Mary Jane doesn't look disappointed. She finally pulls away from the spectacle of my majestic teenage dignity and looks into my eyes.

"Do you like it?" Her voice sounds much bolder and more confident than before.

"Honestly?" MJ nods. "I'm not a fan of handiwork."

Mary Jane looks at me absently.

"Oh, what... what would you like me to do?" The girl's courage is diminished.

The Mary Jane I knew always preferred to be direct about what she wanted, and she expected the same from me. It annoyed her if I tried to lead her on with innuendo, but she was much more aroused by harsh words. Should I be delicate now, since this M.J. is still a girl?

I leaned into her ear and whispered:

"You brought me to this place, took my cock in your hands, and now you're asking me what I want you to do?" Mary Jane held her breath for a few seconds and nodded. Good response, I smile to myself.

"I want you to blow me," I say slowly with each word.

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