Just A Man In A Can

Tony did not know this. He did not know what he was getting himself into. And at first, it was fun and enjoyable, the constant sex both morning and night, finishing a session and going about their day, only to get back to it by noon and completing it with a steamy after-dinner blowjob, rolling into the early am with sensual sex and then starting it all over by dawn. Tony did not mind, after all Peter Parker was fucking hot and could get it up with a simple glassy stare and silent hushed words.

Tony, experienced and more mature, did not have experience fucking Spider-Man- until now.

"One more?" Peter asks puppy dog-eyed and sweat drenched, abs flexed as he presses his chest to Tony's. He's still hard after both of their second climaxes, Peter having pulled Tony from a meeting via text. This wasn't new, Tony making changes to his schedule for sex, but obviously everyone knew as soon as Tony's phone buzzed just exactly what was going to happen. Not a single person would ever dare question when Tony, mid meeting, would not-so-politely request to leave.

"I have to get back, they need their boss, y'know, they can't function without me."

"And neither can I," Peter sat up, with a whine, his cock grazing Tony's. He wanted so badly in that moment more than anything to stay there like that and keep going for a third time, to ease the pain. After all, to Peter, Tony was all he had ever had in bed. That didn't matter as he was all Peter would ever need. Tony refused.

"I've got a company to run, Pete, you know that more than anyone. We can continue later if you'd like? When I get back?" Tony shifted, back arching in a way to lean forward, shuffling Peter off a few couple of inches before the boy pressed forward, his soft finger tips pressing him back into the bedsheets in protest.

Despite the streaks of cum delicately decorating both Tony and Peter's abdomens, Peter ached for more, “No," he towered with his face centimeters from Tony's, "I'm not done with you." And then, realizing the tone of his voice may have come off with a spark of dominance, he disappeared, pink, eloquent lips tracing each cum covered curve of Tony's chest, lapping with saliva and a sweet pop as he sucked it down.

Tony sighed. Despite how good it feels to embed himself inside the boy, how nice the familiar feel of Peter's tongue truly is, Tony again denied his request, a rough hand reaching down to brush the curls that lay lacing his eyes. "Peter, hun, we can't, there's an important conference quickly approaching. It's essential for the growth of the comp-"

"Please, Mr. Stark?" he begged.

Peter knew what he was doing.

He did it all the time. Typically on any given day, it worked. Peter could get what he wanted anytime he wanted, anywhere, and Tony could never say no, not when Peter asked like that, with his baby doll face and rose dusted ears perfectly matching his pretty little figure. Peter wrapped his mouth around Tony's cock, so, so, quietly running talented, delicate circles with his tongue over the slit, “Please, daddy?"

A new word he had never used before in bed but had always wanted to and a heavy flush found its way to the cock inside Peter's mouth. Yes of course Tony liked it, that a beautiful boy such as Peter was calling him daddy in the bedroom, but still. "Peter-"

He knew Tony wouldn't agree, but Peter just couldn't let that happen not with the burn crawling its way to the tip of Peter's dick, and Tony was still hard so what gives?

"Fine- if you won't give me what I want," he proclaims, "I'll just take it myself.” He sits up, cock bouncing to his body, and before Tony can put up a fight, Peter's on his way, binding Tony to the frame by the wrists, strong, thick, sticky webs restraining Tony where he needs him. And Tony's shocked, unable to act as fast as Peter's enhanced reflexes, and even if he could, there's no way he could put up a fight against Peter's strength. He almost allows it, but to what extent?

"Peter please, I would've only been gone another couple of hours or so; you're making this a bigger problem than it has to be." Tony looks to the prominent concoction plastered over his hands, yet Peter's problem, is already bigger than Tony could ever possibly understand. If he doesn't do this, the boy might cry, senses so overwhelmed, pained in agony and yearning for release.

"I'm sorry, I just-" Peter almost bellows over in a hiccup, "I need you so bad," he's almost shaking, trembling because he's never had to do this before. Tony can only watch as Peter swallows him yet again, eyelashes downcast, fingers careful yet arrogantly making movement. Needless to say, both loving and hating it at the same time, Tony's head falls back and he can't find the right words to say. He knows Peter's needy. He knows Peter has heightened senses and the consequences if not eased. He's almost quiet, hoping it'll only last a couple of seconds, only he's wrong, as Peter raises himself on top of Tony, and with a woeful slip of an angelic moan, guides himself down onto Tony's cock. "Fuck.." Peter whispers, instant gratification filling him coequally with each throb from inside.

"Peter, don't make me say it again, I have to-"

Webs plaster across Tony's parted lips. "That's enough out of you."

Tony's conflicted, confused by Peter's actions and simultaneously turned on at the same time, for Peter's never behaved in such a defiant way, never to Tony whom of which he both deeply admired and occasionally begged for. He tries to talk Peter out of it, the poor man can't take another session right now, yet not a single word makes it from his lungs. Tony can't speak; his voice but a low muffle mixing with the wet squelch of Peter's dick slapping against Tony's already cum-stained abs and the relentless gasps that hitch before him.

"It's just- you're just so.." he can barely talk himself, "I can never get enough." He huffs as he rides, hips curling back and forth, back arching and muscles tensing. Tony could feel Peter squeezing around him with each movement and he would bite back a moan if he could, but he can’t as Peter tirelessly drops and raises his body, goosebumps spreading on his skin. Peter’s almost smiling as he thinks about what he’s doing, his actions, taking advantage of Tony like he had never done before. It’s just with someone like Tony and someone so inexperienced as Peter, it’s not difficult to be easily excitable, aroused by a thought.

“You make me feel so good, daddy,” he blushes at the word, so fucking hard it feels illegal. He’s so damn beautiful, Tony doesn’t want to encourage what the boy is doing, but the lock of their eyes and the dip of Tony’s stare down Peter’s frame is enough said. And even when Peter feels as though he’s going to explode he pauses, teasing and springing off Tony’s cock to rim it against his insides, going as far to rub his own dick against Tony’s, strategically palming both of them in his hands. “Do you like when I take control?” He asks, gasping for air, “Do you?”

The size difference and juxtaposition alone is extraordinary, still for someone of Peter’s age, he’s right where he needs to be. And for a split second Peter craves more. He doesn’t want to be the one penetrated anymore. He wants to know what it feels like, what Tony feels when he pounds Peter into daybreak. He swallows hard, his cheeks darker than ever before, lungs on fire, and Tony doesn’t have time to process before Peter’s binding the man’s legs down, spreading him open, and thrusting inside, emitting a loud, absurd moan, trembling when his hips finally land in contact with Tony’s.

Both drenched in a mixture of cum, sweat, and spit, lube isn’t a necessity, and it doesn’t matter anyway as Peter spurts right then and there, inside Tony, filling his walls to the brim and spewing from the seams. Tony tries so hard not to pass out, Peter’s grunting and nearly crying, the largest orgasm he’s ever had taking over his body, his mind, and his actions. A tear falls down his cheek, his legs shake, dick steadily pumping out what seems to be the greatest amount of cum that’s ever come from his frail, twink body.

After a minute of moans, toes and fingers grasping for skin or the sheets or whatever they could possibly find, Peter goes silent and pulls out, creating the biggest mess he’s ever seen, and Tony’s eyes roll back, white sticky liquid pooling onto the bed beneath him.