The day of the Aurora Invicta's departure rose bright and early. Even at 5 AM, the world's largest
cruise ship was surrounded by journalists, news reporters, and TV crews. Heavily armored and
armed security personnel from Parker-Frost Industries' Security and Intelligence Division
maintained a vigilant presence, their sleek black uniforms and advanced weaponry ensuring the
ship remained safe.
"This is truly unprecedented in maritime history," Sally Floyd, a dark-haired reporter from the
Daily Bugle, held her microphone toward a striking woman in a crisp white uniform adorned
with gold epaulets. "Deputy Captain Ramirez, can you tell our viewers just how massive the
Aurora Invicta actually is?"
Deputy Captain Elena Ramirez smiled, her posture military-straight as cameras flashed around
them. "The Aurora Invicta stretches 1,350 feet long with 22 guest decks. At 270,000 gross
tonnage, she's nearly 30% larger than the previous record holder. But what makes her truly
special isn't just her size—it's her revolutionary Quantum Core Fusion Hybrid Drive that makes
her the first zero-emission vessel of this scale."
"And the rumors about additional sister ships in production?" Floyd pressed, her eyebrows
raising suggestively.
Ramirez's smile remained perfectly poised. "Parker-Frost Industries doesn't comment on future
projects, Ms. Floyd. Today is about celebrating this magnificent vessel and Mr. Parker's
upcoming nuptials."
By 6 AM, the crew began arriving in waves—nearly two thousand men and women in crisp
uniforms, ready to relieve the skeleton crew that had maintained the vessel overnight. They
moved with practiced efficiency, disappearing into service entrances as they prepared for the
three-day celebration.
Not to be outdone, hundreds of "entertainers" began arriving shortly after—men and women of
extraordinary beauty and talent. Former models with runway-perfect posture stepped from
black SUVs. Influencers with millions of followers live-streamed their arrivals. High-end escorts
with practiced smiles and perfect bodies moved with confident grace. Musical entertainment
ranged from One Republic to Linkin Park, with solo artists like Celine Dion and Nelly Furtado
checking in alongside comedians and magicians.
By 7 AM, high-ranking guests and VIPs started their grand entrances. Some arrived in exotic
supercars that cost more than most homes. Others emerged from stretched limousines with
tinted windows. The steady thrum of helicopter blades announced those utilizing the Aurora
Invicta's landing pad, descending from the sky in private choppers.
A noticeable stir rippled through the crowd as dignitaries from Krakoa began teleporting onto a
designated arrival platform. The mutant representatives—including several members of the
Quiet Council—were met with a mixture of awe, curiosity, and thinly veiled hostility from some
onlookers. Parker-Frost security personnel maintained professionalism, escorting the mutant
guests with the same deference afforded to human dignitaries.
"This is disgusting," muttered one bystander, filming with his phone. "Freaks don't belong with
normal people."
A security officer in black tactical gear materialized beside him almost instantly. "Sir, this is a
private event. All guests have been personally approved by Ms. Frost. I'll need to see your
credentials or escort you beyond the perimeter."
Social media platforms exploded with activity. #AuroraInvicta and #ParkerFrostBash trended
globally, with millions of posts from both those attending and those watching enviously from
home. The previous week's gaming tournament—offering 500 tickets to winners
of TEKKEN and STREET FIGHTER (Choices rumored to be by Peter Parker himself) competitions—
had generated unprecedented online engagement. YouTube videos of the finals had garnered
tens of millions of views as professional gamers and amateurs alike competed fiercely for a
chance to attend or send a loved one in their place.
Marvelgram and Instagram overflowed with influencers touring the ship's amenities. Even the
"basic" accommodations allocated to tournament winners featured amenities that would
shame five-star hotels—smart walls that changed appearance based on mood, private balconies
with unobstructed ocean views, and personal AI assistants programmed to anticipate every
need.
"This is the Ethereal Suite," explained one popular lifestyle vlogger, spinning her camera around
a massive room with living walls of exotic plants and a waterfall shower. "There are only twelve
of these on the entire ship, and rumor has it Jean Grey and Storm are sharing one of them."
Comments ranged from breathless admiration to burning jealousy:
@MarvelFan2099: OMG I would DIE to be there right now!
@NYCLuxuryLife: That bathroom is bigger than my entire apartment
@MutieWatcher: Why are those genetic abominations allowed to mix with normal humans?
The last comment quickly accumulated hundreds of angry responses before Parker-Frost's AI
moderation system removed it from the platform.
By midday, nearly all guests and crew were accounted for, with only a few fashionably late
arrivals still expected. The Aurora Invicta gleamed in the sunlight, her white hull pristine against
the blue harbor waters. The air buzzed with anticipation as everyone awaited the arrival of the
power couple themselves—Peter Parker and Emma Frost—to officially commence the three-day
celebration that promised to be the social event of the decade.
.........................................
While crowds gathered at the docks to witness the spectacle of the Aurora Invicta, miles away in
their Manhattan penthouse, Peter Parker and Emma Frost were completely oblivious to the
outside world. Their spacious bedroom echoed with the sound of skin against skin, punctuated
by Emma's unrestrained moans of pleasure. Her heavily pregnant body moved with surprising
grace as she straddled Peter, her swollen pussy gripping his thick cock with each deliberate
bounce.
"Mmm, harder, darling," Emma purred, her blue-tinted lips curving into a satisfied smile as she
rode him. "You owe me for fucking Jean and Storm while I was conducting those tedious
interviews." Her large, milk-laden tits swayed hypnotically with each movement, the darkened
nipples standing proudly erect. "Ahh... fuck... yes, just like that!"
Peter's hands caressed her expanded belly reverently before sliding up to cup her breasts, which
had grown magnificently fuller with pregnancy. "God, Emma, you're so fucking beautiful," he
groaned, thrusting upward to meet her movements. Her inner walls clenched around him
possessively, drawing a deep groan from his throat. The blue lipstick marks covering his face,
neck, and chest marked him as thoroughly hers—exactly as she preferred.
Emma leaned down awkwardly around her belly to kiss him deeply, her tongue sliding against
his as she moaned into his mouth. "Mmmph... I want you to fill me up completely," she
whispered against his lips. "Then cover these tits with your cum... mark me as thoroughly as I've
marked you." Just as the words left her mouth, Peter unexpectedly stilled beneath her, his
hands gripping her hips to hold her in place despite her whimpered protests.
"Emma," he said firmly, brushing a strand of her damp platinum blonde hair from her flushed
face. "Tell me what's wrong first. And don't pretend there's nothing—I may not be telepathic,
but I know you." His thumb traced her lower lip tenderly. "Five years together has taught me
when something's bothering you. Please, love."
Emma's confident facade cracked slightly as she averted her eyes. "I... may have approved some
special entertainment for your bachelor celebration," she admitted, her walls unconsciously
tightening around his still-hard length. "Specifically... Mary Jane Watson and Felicia Hardy will
be aboard the Aurora Invicta." She pressed her forehead against his, her voice
uncharacteristically vulnerable. "I told Felicia she could potentially share your bed if you wished
it. Mary Jane... I relegated to general entertainment only."
Peter's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why would you do that? Why would you think I'd want
either of them?"
Emma buried her face against his neck, inhaling his scent and hiding from his gaze—a gesture so
unlike the normally imperious White Queen that Peter's heart clenched painfully. "Because I
thought... I feared you might forgive Mary Jane. That seeing her might reawaken what you once
shared. That you might prefer a life with her over one with me and our—"
Her words were silenced by Peter's fierce kiss as he suddenly thrust upward, burying himself
completely inside her. "Mmmmph!" Emma's surprised moan vibrated against his lips as he
broke the kiss.
"Listen to me, Emma Frost," Peter growled, his eyes intense with emotion. "I would rather die
right now than leave you or our children. Do you understand me? I've suffered through losing
everyone I've ever loved—my parents, Uncle Ben, Gwen, even May. I held it all in until I broke
completely, and you were the one who put me back together." His hands cradled her face with
heartbreaking tenderness. "If I lost you, especially through my own mistake, I would rather end
it all than live without you."
The absolute certainty in his voice made Emma's arms tighten around him, her telepathy
confirming the truth of his words more effectively than any lie detector. Her blue-stained lips
trembled slightly before she captured his mouth in a tender kiss that quickly blazed into
something far more primal. "Mmm... slurp... prove it then," she whispered against his mouth,
her voice regaining its customary confidence. "Show me I'm the only one. Fuck me like you
mean it—hard and deep."
With surprising gentleness despite the urgency of their passion, Peter repositioned Emma onto
her hands and knees, mindful of her pregnant belly. Once she was settled, he gripped her
rounded ass cheeks in both hands, spreading them slightly as he lined himself up with her
dripping entrance.
"Is this what you need?" he asked, his voice husky with desire as he slid just the tip of his cock
between her folds. "You want me to fuck this perfect cunt until you're screaming my name?"
"Yes," Emma hissed, pushing back against him impatiently. "Stop teasing and—OH FUCK!" Her
words dissolved into a sharp cry as Peter drove into her with a single powerful thrust. "Yes,
darling! Unh! Just like that!"
Peter established a merciless rhythm, his hips slapping against her ass with each deep stroke.
Emma's fingers clutched desperately at the silk sheets, her face pressed against the mattress as
pleasure overwhelmed her. Even with her telepathic abilities, she couldn't shield herself from
the intensity of Peter's emotions—his devotion, his desire, his absolute certainty that she was
his future.
"Nobody else," Peter grunted with each thrust, one hand moving around to caress her swollen
belly. "Only you, Emma. Only ever you."
Peter set a punishing pace, his cock delving deep into Emma's willing pussy with each powerful
thrust. The wet, squelching sounds of their coupling filled the room as his hips slapped against
her perfect ass. Emma's moans escalated with each stroke, her telepathy amplifying their
connection so that every sensation rebounded between them in a feedback loop of pleasure.
"Oh god, Peter! Fuck! Yesss!" Emma cried out, her voice breaking as waves of pleasure crashed
through her. The raw emotion flooding from Peter's mind into hers—his unwavering love, his
fierce devotion—combined with the physical sensations to push her over the edge. "I'm—I'm
cumming! Peter!" Her pussy clenched violently around his thick shaft as her orgasm tore
through her, flooding his crotch with her hot release of pussy juice. Her arms gave out, leaving
her face pressed against the mattress as she screamed his name, her ass still raised high for him.
Peter gritted his teeth as Emma's cunt gripped him like a vice, her inner walls pulsating around
his length. His heavy balls tightened, loaded with cum and demanding release, but he held back
through sheer willpower. "Not yet," he growled, grabbing a handful of her platinum blonde hair
and tugging just hard enough to arch her back. His other hand came down on her ass with a
resounding SMACK, leaving a pink handprint on her pale flesh. "Tell me who you belong to,
Emma. Tell me who I belong to."
"You're mine, Peter! Mmph... only mine!" Emma gasped between moans, her mind clouded
with pleasure. Another sharp slap landed on her other cheek, making her yelp. "And I'm
yours! Unnh... I'm the only woman for you!" Her words dissolved into incoherent cries as Peter
increased his pace, driving into her with superhuman strength that would have injured anyone
without her diamond-form capabilities. "Yes! Harder! Fuck my cunt harder!"
"That's right," Peter snarled, leaning over her back to whisper in her ear while continuing to
pound into her. "I share this cock with others only when you want me to. Only. Because. You.
Allow it." Each word was punctuated with a deep thrust that had Emma seeing stars. With a
final, primal growl, Peter hilted himself completely inside her. "I'm cumming, Emma. Take it all."
His cock pulsed powerfully as thick ropes of cum erupted deep within her, painting her inner
walls with his essence.
The sensation of Peter's hot seed flooding her triggered another explosive orgasm that ripped
through Emma's body like lightning. "PETER! OH FUCK! YES!" she wailed, her telepathy
momentarily slipping control and projecting her ecstasy outward. Her pussy milked his cock
greedily, squeezing every drop from him as if desperate to ensure his genetic material mingled
with hers. When the initial wave subsided, Peter gently withdrew his still-hard member and
guided Emma to turn over. She complied with shaky limbs, lying on her back and gazing up at
him with half-lidded eyes of adoration.
"I'm not finished with you yet," Peter murmured, stroking his slick cock just inches from her
face. "Open your mouth." Emma obeyed instantly, her blue-tinted lips parting in anticipation as
her tongue extended slightly. Peter groaned at the sight and began to stroke faster. "Fuck,
Emma... so beautiful..." With a strangled moan, he erupted again, the first thick jet landing
across her parted lips and tongue. He aimed the next spurts to paint her flushed cheeks and
forehead before moving down to cover her swollen breasts and finally her rounded belly,
marking every inch of her with his scent and seed.
Emma swallowed the salty gift in her mouth with visible pleasure, making an exaggerated
"Mmmmm" sound as she did. Without prompting, she leaned forward to take his still-twitching
cock between her lips, sucking and licking him clean with reverent attention. "Slurp... was that
convincing enough, darling?" she asked between laps of her tongue, looking up with mischief
dancing in her eyes. "Or do you need more reassurance of your importance in my life?" She
took him deeper into her mouth for emphasis, humming contentedly around his length.
Peter threaded his fingers through her cum-streaked hair, his expression softening as he looked
down at the powerful woman who had chosen him. "Promise me something, Emma," he said
earnestly. "Promise you'll never doubt that you're the most important person in my world. Not
Mary Jane, not Felicia, not anyone."
Emma released his cock with a wet pop, her expression suddenly serious despite the obscene
picture she made—naked, heavily pregnant, and covered in his release. "I promise, darling," she
replied, her usual imperious tone returning. "Though I may occasionally require physical
demonstrations like this to reinforce the point." A smirk curled her lips as she rubbed some of
his seed into her skin like expensive lotion. "Now, I believe we have a bachelor party to attend.
Your adoring public awaits, and I intend to show off my gloriously pregnant body alongside my
devastatingly handsome fiancé."
Emma tugged Peter toward their expansive master bathroom, her plump ass swaying enticingly
with each step. "We can't arrive covered in cum, darling, no matter how much I enjoy wearing
your scent," she purred, guiding him into the glass-enclosed shower stall. Warm water cascaded
over them as Emma pressed her naked body against his, her swollen tits squishing against his
chest. "Mmm, I can't get enough of you," she whispered before capturing his lips in a hungry
kiss. "Mmmmph... even after all this time." Her tongue slipped into his mouth, dancing erotically
against his as her hands wandered down to stroke his already hardening cock.
"Fuck, Emma," Peter groaned as she sank to her knees before him, the water streaming down
her platinum blonde hair and perfect face. Her pregnant belly protruded gloriously between
them, but didn't hinder her movements as she wrapped her blue-painted lips around his thick
shaft. "Unngh... that mouth should be illegal..." He braced himself against the marble wall,
watching in awe as Emma took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing with each powerful suction.
The wet, slurping sounds of her eager mouth echoed throughout the luxurious bathroom as she
worshipped his cock, her ice-blue eyes locked on his with possessive intensity.
"Slurp... mmm... gulp..." Emma moaned around his length, one hand cradling his heavy balls
while the other stroked what wouldn't fit in her mouth. Her telepathy amplified everything—his
pleasure becoming hers, her mouth feeling every twitch and pulse of his shaft with supernatural
sensitivity. "I want your cum," she demanded, briefly releasing him with a wet pop before diving
back down, taking him so deep her nose pressed against his pubic bone. "Mmmphh..." The
vibration of her moans sent electric pulses up his spine as her throat contracted around his
sensitive tip.
Peter's hands tangled in her wet hair, guiding her movements as his hips began to thrust gently.
"Fuck, Emma, I'm close," he warned, his cock swelling impossibly thicker as his release
approached. "Take it all. Swallow every drop." Emma's eyes glazed with lust as she doubled her
efforts, her lips stretching obscenely around his girth while her tongue worked the sensitive
underside. With a guttural groan, Peter erupted, flooding her eager mouth with thick, hot
spurts. "Unngh... FUCK!" Emma's throat worked frantically, gulping down his load like a woman
starved, not letting a single drop escape. When he finally finished, she gave his softening cock
one final, reverent lick before standing with remarkable grace despite her advanced pregnancy.
After their shower, they moved to their expansive closet where Peter donned a custom Tom
Ford tuxedo while Emma slipped into a breathtaking white and blue silk gown. The dress was a
masterpiece of tailoring—strategically cut to showcase her pregnant glory while maintaining an
air of sophisticated elegance. Diamond accents caught the light with every movement, drawing
attention to her full, milk-heavy tits that threatened to spill from the low neckline. The fabric
hugged her expanded waistline lovingly before draping over her rounded ass in a way that made
Peter's mouth water all over again.
"You're staring, darling," Emma observed with a satisfied smirk as she applied the final touches
to her makeup, painting her full lips that icy blue shade that had become her signature. Her
short platinum blonde hair was perfectly styled once more, framing her face with elegant
sophistication. "Jean and Storm will be absolutely green with envy when they see how
magnificently I carry your children," she added, running her hands possessively over her swollen
belly. "They're not even showing yet, while I look like I might deliver any day. Nothing makes a
man more attentive than seeing physical proof of his virility." She reached for a small device on
her vanity—their teleportation trigger. "Are you certain this is safe for the babies?" Peter asked,
placing his hands protectively over hers on her rounded womb.
"Perfectly safe," Emma assured him, leaning in for one last kiss before they departed. "Our
technology is integrated with Krakoan biotech—the babies won't feel a thing." Her eyes
sparkled with anticipation. "Now, shall we make our grand entrance? I do so love being the
center of attention, especially with you by my side." With a press of the button, their penthouse
dissolved around them in a flash of light, replaced instantly by the magnificent main hall of the
Aurora Invicta. Hundreds of guests erupted in applause as they materialized on the central
stage, the ship's orchestra smoothly transitioning to a triumphant fanfare. A waiter appeared as
if by magic, offering Peter a flute of champagne and Emma a sparkling red grape juice that
perfectly mimicked wine in appearance. With a regal lift of her glass, Emma's voice carried
throughout the hall: "Let the celebration begin!" The crowd roared in approval, glasses raised
high as the ship's massive horn sounded their departure from the dock, signaling the start of
three days of unprecedented luxury and pleasure.
The Aurora Invicta's grand ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and the sparkle of
diamonds adorning the necks and wrists of the world's elite. Emma and Peter moved through
the crowd like royalty, her arm linked with his while his free hand rested protectively—
possessively—over her swollen belly. The gesture wasn't lost on Emma, who relished the
primitive display of ownership. Her fiancé was unconsciously broadcasting to every person they
passed: this prime woman carries my seed. I have claimed her, bred her, and marked her as
mine.
"Senator Rosenberg was just telling me about the expansion plans for the Resilient Cities
Initiative," Emma said smoothly to a cluster of political figures, her ice-blue lips curving into a
practiced smile. "Parker-Frost Industries would be delighted to contribute our advanced
weather modification systems to the coastal developments." All the while, Peter's thumb traced
small circles against the silk fabric covering her womb, sending delicious shivers up her spine.
The senator's wife couldn't keep her eyes off Emma's pregnant form, her gaze a mixture of envy
and fascination at how the White Queen maintained such commanding elegance while heavily
pregnant.
"We should discuss the details next week," Peter added, his voice carrying the easy confidence
that had developed during their years building their empire together. "After the wedding." The
words carried a finality that made Emma's heart flutter despite herself. She leaned into him
slightly, allowing a flicker of their morning's activities to slip telepathically into his mind—her
lips wrapped around his cock, the taste of him still lingering on her tongue. Peter's hand
tightened briefly on her belly, letting her know the message was received.
After extricating themselves from the human dignitaries with promises of future meetings, they
made their way toward a small group of mutants gathered near one of the ship's panoramic
windows. Magneto stood resplendent in a white suit that complemented his silver hair, while
Xavier opted for a more traditional black tuxedo. Logan looked uncomfortable in formal wear
but had made an effort, and Kurt's natural elegance made him look perfectly at home in his
stylish attire.
"Emma, Peter," Xavier greeted them warmly, though Emma didn't miss how his eyes lingered on
her pregnant form. "The ship is magnificent."
Logan sniffed the air subtly, then grinned. "The kids are gonna be strong," he commented,
nodding toward Emma's belly. "I can smell it. Good combination."
Emma's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Of course they will be. They're our children, after all."
She emphasized the possessive pronoun while sending a telepathic message to Logan: Careful,
Wolverine. I know exactly what else you're smelling, and if you value your mental faculties, you'll
pretend you don't.
Logan's eyebrows shot up, but he wisely took a step back, raising his champagne in silent
acknowledgment of her warning.
"We wanted to express our gratitude," Magneto said, his regal bearing undiminished by the
slight bow of his head. "What you're doing for mutantkind is... extraordinary."
Xavier nodded in agreement. "We apologize for placing such a burden on your shoulders,
especially at such a pivotal time in your lives. But your contribution to solving our fertility crisis
cannot be overstated." He gestured toward Emma's pregnant form. "The children you're having
with Emma, and now with Storm and Jean as well—they represent hope for our entire species."
Peter shrugged with characteristic humility. "If I can help, I want to. It's the right thing to do."
The response seemed to electrify both older men. Xavier's eyes lit up with barely contained
excitement as he produced a tablet from behind his back. "That's wonderful to hear, Peter. Truly
wonderful. In fact, we've compiled a list of other mutants who have expressed willingness to
participate in the program." He handed the tablet to Peter, whose eyes widened as he scrolled
through the names.
"Mystique? Rogue? Kitty Pryde? Sage?" Peter's voice grew increasingly incredulous. "Jubilee?
Polaris? There must be twenty names here!"
"Twenty-seven, to be precise," Xavier said with scholarly precision. "All omega or alpha-level
mutants with exceptional genetic—"
"Ahem," Emma interrupted, her tone dropping several degrees below freezing. Her icy glare
fixed on Xavier with such intensity that both men took an involuntary step backward. "Perhaps
we should discuss this after the wedding? My fiancé has already been quite... generous... with
his contributions thus far." The blue of her lips seemed to darken as they pressed into a thin
line.
Xavier and Magneto exchanged nervous glances. "Of course, Emma," Xavier quickly agreed.
"We'll send you the relevant information for your consideration. The two of you can decide
together which candidates, if any, would be suitable."
"Yes, absolutely," Magneto added hastily. "This is merely a preliminary suggestion. No decisions
need to be made immediately."
As the two powerful mutants retreated, Emma caught sight of Logan nearly choking on his
drink, his shoulders shaking with poorly suppressed laughter at the sight of the mighty Xavier
and Magneto cowed by a pregnant woman's displeasure.
"I can't believe they already have a list," Peter murmured, still looking slightly shell-shocked. "I
was expecting maybe one or two more women, not a small army." He glanced around the
ballroom. "Speaking of which, I'm surprised Jean and Storm haven't come to say hello yet."
Emma's lips curved back into their customary smirk as she pointed toward a far corner of the
room. "Jean appears to be otherwise occupied."
Peter followed her gesture to where Jean Grey stood in conversation with a young man who
practically radiated old money and entitlement. Her emerald green dress clung to her slender
form like a second skin, the material shimmering with subtle golden undertones whenever she
moved. Her fiery red hair was pulled back in an elegant ponytail that emphasized her delicate
features and exposed the graceful line of her neck.
The young billionaire leaned closer, clearly entranced, but Jean's attention suddenly shifted
across the room. Her eyes locked with Peter's, and for a brief moment, they flashed molten
gold—the unmistakable sign of the Phoenix stirring within her. She ran her tongue across her
full lips in a gesture that couldn't be misconstrued, the movement slow and deliberate.
"And our weather goddess," Emma continued, directing Peter's attention to the opposite side of
the ballroom, "has been fending off unwanted advances all evening."
Storm stood alone now, a glass of champagne in her hand, having apparently just dismissed a
portly, red-faced senator who was retreating with a sour expression. Her black and gold gown
emphasized her regal bearing, the fabric strategically cut to showcase her perfect round ass and
ample breasts. The dress's golden accents seemed to enhance the stark white of her hair,
making her look like a goddess descended among mortals. As if sensing their attention, Ororo
turned, her eyes finding Peter immediately. She raised her glass in acknowledgment, offering a
deliberately suggestive wink that made Peter's breath catch audibly.
"How deliciously whorish of them," Emma laughed, her hand sliding over her pregnant belly in a
possessive caress that drew both women's attention. She deliberately pushed her chest
forward, emphasizing her milk-heavy breasts threatening to spill from her neckline. The jealousy
that flashed across both Jean and Storm's faces was exactly the reaction she'd hoped for.
"Emma," Peter admonished gently, though she could feel his amusement through their
telepathic connection. "They're the mothers of my children too, remember?"
"Of course, darling," Emma purred, pressing herself against his side. "But only I get to be Mrs.
Parker." She reached up to brush her fingers through his hair, deliberately flashing her
enormous engagement ring for all to see. "Now, shall we mingle with the rest of our guests? I
believe Tony Stark has been trying to catch your attention for the past twenty minutes, and the
poor man looks ready to explode from impatience."
Peter chuckled, placing a kiss on her temple. "Lead the way, my love."
As they moved toward the next cluster of VIPs, Emma couldn't resist sending a telepathic
message to both Jean and Storm simultaneously: Ladies, do try to look a little less desperate.
The night is young and you have three days and nights, if you behave yourselves, I might
consider sharing my fiancé with you later. After all, he does have such impressive stamina.
The startled looks on both women's faces made Emma's smirk widen as she leaned into Peter's
embrace, feeling utterly victorious and completely adored.
"What did you just do?" Peter whispered in her ear, clearly noticing the reaction from across the
room.
"Nothing they didn't deserve, darling," Emma replied innocently, guiding him toward Tony
Stark's animated waving.
The evening wore on as the party reached its crescendo, champagne flowing freely while
laughter and music filled the grand ballroom of the Aurora Invicta. Guests moved from one
entertainment venue to another, marveling at the ship's countless diversions—from holographic
art installations to zero-gravity chambers where dancers performed impossible feats. Through it
all, Peter and Emma remained the center of attention, graciously acknowledging well-wishes
from celebrities, politicians, and fellow heroes alike.
"May I have this dance, Mrs. Almost-Parker?" Peter asked, extending his hand toward Emma
with a warm smile. Her ice-blue lips curved upward as she placed her hand in his, allowing him
to lead her to the dance floor where a slow, sensual melody had begun to play.
"Mmm, I love how that sounds coming from your lips," Emma purred as Peter pulled her
pregnant form against him, one hand resting possessively on the small of her back. Despite her
swollen belly, they moved together with perfect synchronicity, her curves pressing against him
in a way that made his body respond immediately. Noticing his reaction, Emma leaned close,
her lips brushing against his ear. "I can feel your thick cock hardening against me, darling. Later
tonight, I want you to bend me over our suite's balcony and fuck my tight cunt until I scream
your name loud enough for everyone in the ocean to hear. Then I want you to fill my ass with
that massive shaft while I squeeze my tits and milk them all over our sheets."
"Jesus, Emma," Peter groaned, his face flushing crimson as his erection strained against his
tuxedo pants. "It's not fair that you can still get me this hard with just words. Five years together
and you still turn me into a teenager with a single whisper."
"That's because I know exactly what this perfect cock needs," Emma smirked, her hand sliding
between them to give his hardening length a firm squeeze through his pants. Several nearby
couples pretended not to notice as Peter's breath hitched audibly. "I'm parched, darling. Let me
fetch us some drinks before your bachelor party activities begin in earnest." With a final
possessive stroke, Emma sauntered away, her pregnant form commanding attention as she
moved through the crowd toward the bar.
Emma was gone barely five minutes—delayed by Storm's ex-husband T'Challa asking polite but
probing questions about Peter's genetic compatibility with mutants that he REALLY shouldn't
know—when she returned to find Peter conspicuously absent from where she'd left him. A
gentle telepathic sweep revealed his location almost immediately, and a knowing smile spread
across her face. In a dimly lit alcove behind one of the massive decorative columns, partially
concealed by an arrangement of exotic plants, Peter stood with his back against the wall, his
expression a mixture of surprise and unbridled lust as Storm and Jean pressed against him from
either side.
"Mmmmph... we're tired of waiting, Peter," Storm murmured against his mouth, her blackpainted lips crushing against his in a hungry kiss. "Slurp... Emma needs to learn to share more
with her mutant sisters." The white-haired weather goddess broke the kiss only to allow Jean to
claim Peter's mouth next, the redhead's ruby lips leaving crimson stains as she moaned
wantonly into the kiss.
"Mmm... fuck, I need you inside me again," Jean growled between kisses, the Phoenix force
making her eyes glow golden with primal desire. "These babies you put in me want more of
their daddy." Her hand boldly cupped the prominent bulge in Peter's pants, squeezing
rhythmically as Storm attacked his neck with open-mouthed kisses, leaving black lipstick marks
across his skin.
Storm's nimble fingers had already undone Peter's belt buckle and lowered his zipper, freeing
his impressive cock from its confines. "Jean, you take his ass this time," she ordered with the
natural authority of a queen. "I'll handle this magnificent cock." Without waiting for a response,
Storm dropped to her knees, her elegant gown pooling around her as she wrapped her lips
around Peter's thick shaft, taking him deep into her throat in one fluid motion.
Jean obeyed immediately, positioning herself behind Peter and helping him turn slightly to
brace against the wall. Her hands kneaded his muscular ass cheeks through his pants before
tugging them down further. "I've been dreaming about tasting every inch of you," she
whispered heatedly, dropping to her knees and spreading his cheeks. With a moan of
anticipation, Jean pressed her face between his firm buttocks, her tongue circling his puckered
entrance before pushing inside. "Mmmmph... slurp..." The wet sounds of her eager mouth
mingled with Peter's choked gasps as she rimmed him thoroughly, her ruby lips leaving crimson
marks across his ass.
Emma observed the scene with detached amusement, using her telepathy to create a subtle
distortion field that prevented any passersby from noticing the explicit tableau. She enjoyed the
dazed expression of lust and surprise on Peter's face as he was serviced from both ends, his
hands tangled in Storm's white hair while his hips involuntarily pushed back against Jean's
probing tongue. After allowing herself a moment to appreciate the view—and mentally
recording every detail for later private enjoyment—Emma stepped into their secluded space,
making her presence known with a soft clearing of her throat.
"Really, ladies? You're giving mutant women a rather desperate reputation," Emma remarked
coolly, one hand resting on her swollen belly. "At least have the decency to wait until after the
first dance."
Neither woman seemed remotely concerned by Emma's appearance. Storm released Peter's
cock with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting her black lips to his glistening tip. "You're just a
sore loser, Emma," she replied haughtily, her hand continuing to stroke his length while Jean's
mouth never left its position between his ass cheeks. "Perhaps you should create a proper
timetable for us to follow. These babies he's put in our wombs are barely formed, and yet we
both feel an overwhelming biological imperative to drag him away and fuck him senseless at
every opportunity." Without waiting for Emma's response, Storm returned her attention to
Peter's cock, this time moving to suck his heavy balls into her mouth one at a time.
Jean finally emerged from behind Peter, her face flushed and her lipstick smeared across her
cheeks. "She's right, you know," she added, licking her lips suggestively before replacing Storm
at Peter's balls, engulfing them completely while Storm returned to bobbing up and down his
shaft. Golden flecks danced in Jean's eyes as she stared up at Peter through her lashes, her
telepathy amplifying his pleasure to nearly unbearable levels.
"Oh fuck... I can't... I'm gonna..." Peter's warning came too late as his control shattered
completely. His cock erupted like a pressure hose, flooding Storm's mouth with his thick seed.
She pulled back after the first massive spurt, allowing his subsequent release to paint both
women's faces with heavy ropes of cum. Thick, pearly strands landed in their hair, across their
cheeks, and down their chins, some even reaching their exposed cleavage where it glistened
against their skin.
Jean and Storm turned to each other with predatory smiles, their cum-covered faces
approaching slowly until their lips met in a sloppy, passionate kiss. "Mmmmph..." They moaned
in unison as they shared Peter's release between them, tongues visibly passing the thick load
back and forth before they swallowed audibly, putting on a show that had Peter groaning and
Emma raising an appreciative eyebrow.
"That's quite enough for now," Emma declared, tucking Peter's still-twitching cock back into his
pants with practiced efficiency. "The main entertainment begins in twenty minutes, and the
groom-to-be needs to be presentable." She produced a handkerchief from seemingly nowhere
and delicately wiped a spot of cum from Peter's chin. "Ladies, do clean yourselves up before
rejoining the party. Those cum-stained gowns would cause quite the stir, even among this
crowd."
As Emma led Peter away, his legs still slightly unsteady, Jean's telepathic voice slipped into his
mind: We're far from finished with you, Peter. After the main show, I want your massive cock
stretching both our asses until we scream your name. The mental message was accompanied by
vivid images of Peter taking both women from behind simultaneously, their faces contorted in
ecstasy as he filled them completely.
Emma led Peter away from the alcove, her ice-blue lips curved into a satisfied smirk as she
guided him through the crowded ballroom. Despite her heavily pregnant state, she moved with
graceful purpose, one hand possessively resting on Peter's lower back.
"The things I put up with," she sighed dramatically, though Peter could detect the amusement in
her voice. "My future husband being molested at his own bachelor party by a weather goddess
and the avatar of a cosmic force. One might think they were raised in a barn." She leaned closer,
her swollen tits pressing against his arm. "Though I must admit, watching Jean's tongue
disappear between your ass cheeks was quite the spectacle."
Peter's face flushed crimson. "Emma, I swear I didn't—"
"Hush, darling," Emma interrupted, pressing a blue-painted fingernail against his lips. "I know
perfectly well you were ambushed. Those two have been practically salivating over you all
evening." She guided him into the private elevator that would take them to the Imperial Star
Suite—their accommodations for the cruise. "Besides, I find their desperation rather amusing.
They may carry your children, but I'm the one who gets to wear your ring."
Once inside their suite—a palatial two-level marvel of luxury that would put most mansions to
shame—Emma immediately directed Peter toward the enormous marble shower. "Clean
yourself thoroughly, darling," she instructed, already slipping out of her gown with practiced
ease. "Remove every trace of those women. You'll need to be pristine for what comes next."
Twenty minutes later, freshly showered and dressed in an immaculately tailored black suit
without a tie, Peter watched as Emma finished reapplying her signature blue lipstick. Her
pregnancy seemed to have enhanced her natural beauty, giving her skin an ethereal glow as she
brushed her platinum blonde hair to silky perfection.
"Where exactly are we going?" Peter asked, adjusting his cufflinks—platinum spiders with
diamond eyes, a gift from Emma on their first anniversary.
"To your real bachelor party entertainment," Emma replied enigmatically, rising from her vanity
with queenly grace. Her new outfit—a white leather dress that somehow managed to look both
elegant and obscenely tight across her pregnant belly and enormous tits—left little to the
imagination. "I've arranged something special on the Nexus Deck."
Peter's brow furrowed as Emma led him through the ship's exclusive corridors, accessible only
to them and a handful of VIP guests. "Emma, you know I don't need anything special. Just being
here with you is more than enough."
Emma paused before an ornate door marked with a stylized "69" in gold leaf. "Oh, don't be
tedious, darling. This isn't about need—it's about want." She traced a finger along his jawline.
"And what I want is to watch you enjoy yourself with some exceptionally talented women who
have been thoroughly vetted, tested, and compensated quite handsomely for their discretion."
Peter's eyes widened. "Wait, are you saying—"
"That I've arranged for you to fuck some of the most beautiful women in the world while I
watch? Yes, precisely that." Emma's smile turned predatory as she leaned in to kiss him deeply,
her tongue sliding against his in a possessive claim. "Mmmmph... and before you protest like the
adorably loyal man you are, let me add that I've installed 8K resolution cameras throughout the
suite. I intend to enjoy the recordings for years to come."
"Emma, I don't need some fake women who just want to fuck me for fame or money," Peter
protested, though Emma could feel his cock already hardening against her thigh at the mere
suggestion. "I have you. That's all I want."
"Sweet boy," Emma purred, pressing her blue lips against his ear. "Mmm... You promised to have
fun for me, didn't you? Well, this is my idea of fun." She licked the shell of his ear before
whispering, "I want to watch you dominate other women, knowing you're only doing it because
I allow it—because I command it." Her hand slipped between them to cup his now-straining
erection through his pants. "Every thrust of this magnificent cock into their needy cunts will be
for my pleasure, not theirs."
Peter swallowed hard, his resistance crumbling as Emma manipulated him both physically and
psychologically. "Only for you," he finally agreed, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss that left
her blue lipstick smeared across both their lips. "mmmmm... but afterward, I want to fuck your
tight fat ass until you call me daddy."
A visible shiver of delight ran through Emma's body, her ice-blue eyes darkening with
lust. "Deal," she whispered against his lips before straightening up and smoothing her dress.
With a composed smile that betrayed none of her inner arousal, she tapped a code into the
door panel.
The suite that revealed itself was a marvel of luxury and sensual design. Plush crimson sofas and
chaises were arranged around a central circular bed large enough for at least ten people.
Champagne fountains bubbled in the corners, and soft lighting cast everything in a warm,
golden glow. But what immediately commanded attention were the women—at least fifty of
them, each more stunning than the last.
"Welcome to paradise, Mr. Parker," called out a statuesque black woman with curves that defied
physics, her full lips painted a vibrant purple that matched her barely-there lingerie. "We've
been waiting for you."
The assembled women represented every fantasy imaginable: Japanese women in modified
kimonos that revealed more than they concealed, their porcelain skin contrasting with dark
nipples peeking through strategic openings; Latinas with impossibly round asses that jiggled
enticingly as they sauntered forward, purring Spanish endearments in sultry accents; Nordic
blondes with legs that seemed to reach the ceiling; redheads with creamy skin and mischievous
smiles; Black women with skin like polished ebony and bodies sculpted by gods.
"Oh my fucking god," Peter whispered involuntarily as the women began approaching, some
licking their lips hungrily, others running their hands over their own bodies in invitation.
"These fifty were specially selected," Emma explained with professional detachment that belied
the satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. "Former supermodels, adult film stars, high-end escorts—
all at the absolute pinnacle of their professions. You may have any or all of them during the next
three days." She paused, her smile turning wicked. "But your first encounter has already been
arranged."
The women surrounded them now, hands reaching out to caress Peter's chest and arms, some
boldly groping his ass while others worked at unbuttoning his shirt. "Bring that fine ass over
here, sugar," cooed a curvy Latina, her fingers dancing down his stomach toward his belt.
Another woman, a redhead with freckles across her nose, pressed her massive tits against his
back, making sure he felt her hard nipples through the thin material of his shirt.
"Jesus, look at the bulge in his pants," gasped an Asian woman, dropping to her knees before
him. "Let me see it, please!"
Emma watched the spectacle with regal amusement as the women practically tore Peter's
clothes from his body. When his cock finally sprang free—thick, long, and already rigid with
arousal—a chorus of appreciative gasps and explicit curses filled the room.
"Holy shit!"
"Fuck me sideways, that's huge!"
"Girl, my pussy is literally dripping right now."
"I don't think that monster will fit in my ass, but I'm damn sure gonna try!"
With imperious authority, Emma clapped her hands once, causing the women to reluctantly
step back. "Ladies, you'll all get your turn. But first..." She took Peter's hand and led him toward
a door at the far end of the suite. "Your special guest awaits."
Peter shot Emma a questioning look as she opened the door to a smaller, intimate bedroom lit
only by candlelight. "Have fun, darling," she whispered, giving him a gentle push inside before
closing the door behind him with a definitive click of the lock.
"Hello, fellow spider," purred a husky, accented voice from the king-sized bed across the room.
Peter froze, his eyes widening as they adjusted to the dimmer light. There, stretched out like a
deadly predator at rest, was Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow wore nothing but a thin black
bikini that emphasized rather than concealed her perfect body. Her fiery red hair spilled across
the pillows, and her blue eyes gleamed with predatory interest as they traveled down his naked
form, lingering appreciatively on his still-hard cock.
"Natasha?" Peter stammered, suddenly acutely aware of his nudity. "What are you—I mean—
why are you—"
"Here to fuck you senseless?" Natasha finished for him, rising to her knees on the bed. The
movement caused her full tits to bounce enticingly within the confines of her minimal top.
"That's a long story involving SHIELD, multiversal stability, and your apparent ability to
impregnate women who thought they were sterile." She smiled, hooking a finger into the side
of her bikini bottom and slowly pulling it down to reveal a perfectly waxed pussy, glistening with
evidence of her arousal. "But I think we can save the mission briefing for after I've had this
magnificent cock stretching my tight cunt, don't you agree?"
Peter could only gulp.