Scarred for Life
Peter sat with his head tilted back, mouth slightly agape, eyes closed as he tried to focus on the memory of that sunny day a month ago. The fuzzy image of Wade dressed in that suit filled his mind, the way he had spoken to him, the power in his voice, the sultriness, the way he'd bent him over his lap and spanked him into submission. Oh god! He was close. Peter's breathing quickened as his hand fell into a fierce rhythm, pleasure ebbing and flowing in his lower region with each hearty pump. His left hand he lifted and put behind his head, gripping his hair in a feeble impersonation of how Wade handled him.
The young hero had been sat here like this for at least thirty minutes, forcing himself not to climax too quickly, knowing that good things came to those who waited, but it was getting to the point where he was so turned on he might not have the strength to stop himself.
Naughty students deserve punishment. The words came back to him and his boner positively thrummed with arousal. Peter could feel the pressure building down there, and this time he wasn't going to fight it.
The teen's orgasm came so suddenly and was so powerful, so all encompassing, that Peter completely forgot to grab a tissue from the box next to him. It felt so good in fact that he couldn't stop himself from moaning out loud. White jets of rope blasted from his dick as he practically screamed with pleasure, shooting onto the floor and his desk and his wall.
"Hey Petey, just wondering what you want for din-" Aunt May walked in as Peter was mid blast, his face, crumpled in pure ecstasy, morphing into one of pure horror as he noticed her presence. Her face dropped from amiably interrogative to deadpan and pale.
Mortified and panicked beyond belief Peter was frozen, motionless, his aunt the same. What was only half a second dragged like millennia. "Sorry!" Aunt May screamed, practically cartwheeling from the room, slamming the door on her way out as if that could erase what had just happened. Peter's stomach dropped and any residual pleasure from his climax was completely obliterated by an overwhelming sense of dread, embarrassment and mortification.
"Fuck." He whimpered as his dick deflated like a switched off bouncy castle, and got to mopping his mess up as quickly as possible.
-
Dinner was awkward.
Peter sat on the end of the table as always, with May adjacent to his left. She hadn't said a single word since the incident, not when she dished out the spaghetti, not when she set the plates on the table. Nothing. And so Peter sat in silence too, embarrassed to his very core. He twirled the spaghetti on his fork; he wasn't hungry.
Minutes dragged their heels as they passed but eventually the silence had been maintained for so long that one more second would be torture. Peter broke. "May..."
Aunt May jumped with the sudden noise. She took a deep breath. "It's ok."
"You shouldn't have seen that."
"Peter if there's one thing I'm 100% certain on, it's that." She took another deep breath, as if bracing herself. "Peter you need to know that...what you were...doing...that it's...completely normal. My reaction is not because it's weird..."
Peter flushed a deep shade of red. "May, I know, I know that, you don't have to give me the birds and the bees talk. Please!"
May smirked despite her recent trauma. Tormenting Peter was one of her favourite pastimes and if she was going to be scarred by this day then, by god, so was he.
"No, no. I need to do this. As your guardian it is my responsibility that you know this. What you were doing in there - masturbating-"
Peter flinched.
"Oh what are the kids calling it these days...? Beating your meat-"
The brunette flinched again, screwing his eyes up in pure cringe.
"Gooning-"
"May-"
"Jerking off-"
Sweat was glistening on Peter's forehead now and he was boiling, even in just his t-shirt and track pants.
She put on a terrible British accent. "Wanking-"
Peter craved the sweet release of death.
"MAY! I get it. Please." He sounded like a torture victim at the end of his tether.
"Ok, anyway. What you were doing in there. What I...saw. It's COMPLETELY natural Petey. Everyone your age does it. Heck everyone my age does it. It's nothing to be ashamed about. Ok. I don't feel any different about you! I still love you! Ok?"
"Ok." Peter mumbled, suitably traumatised.
"What's that?" May sang, cupping her ear like a mime.
"Okayyyyyyy. Please, God, end my suffering." Peter cried, throwing his head on his crossed arms.
"I'm done." May grinned, punching him in the shoulder. "Jeez, Petey you're getting muscly. Is it all that exercise?" She nodded to his room.
"May!" Peter sat bolt upright. "Please, please stop. Please never mention this again. I'm sorry you had to see that. I'll be more careful from now on. Forget you saw anything. Please."
May cackled like an evil witch. "Oh, Peter I'm not going to forget this day for the rest of my life. The image of you going ham is seared onto my brain. I'll probably need some sort of therapy to unpack this trauma...but I'll try not to bring it up."
"Thank you." Peter croaked.
"Now eat your spaghetti, it's getting cold."
Now that the ice had broken Peter's usual ravenous appetite returned and he tucked in.
The two ate in silence for a few minutes, but it was a lot less tense than beforehand, albeit with Peter still scarred for life. He wasn't sure whether to share this traumatising day with Ned or to take his secret to the grave. He would probably need therapy at this rate. Maybe he could get Mr Stark to make some kind of memory eraser for him and his aunt.
"You know, Peter," May said between sips of wine, breaking the fragile peace. "You better not have stained the walls."
Peter nearly choked to death on his spaghetti.