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 mutante 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.