The middle of summer, tradition holds, is a good time for a company trip; at least John Jonah Jameson, the publisher of the Daily Bugle, likes to think so. Not that he is interested in creating a bound with the employees, nor building a better work environment, he simply couldn't care less.

The main motivation for the annual endeavor was to avoid additional stress-related health costs. Human resources told him it was a good idea and J.J. didn't even argue. "A penny spent is a dollar saved... or whatever!" was all he had to say on the matter.

Year after year, he announced that the event would have a different approach, with lots of possibilities, and promised that the whole thing would be a unique experience. Truth was nothing ever changed, and all the employees were stuck to the trip tradition: marathon drives, arguments, shouting, and lousy music all along the way.

Obviously, the compulsory occasion had always bothered most of the staff, including Peter Parker. Mostly, the forced isolation affected his alter-ego activities. At first, it seemed like a good idea, taking a yearly vacation from his Spider-Man duties. However, the event soon proved to be one of J.J.'s lame attempts of money saving, which led to more trouble than it intended to solve in the first place.

It didn't help the fact that he had to cope with every male employee ogling at his supermodel wife, Mary Jane Watson Parker. Not that he was the suspicious or the excessively jealous type. It's just that he couldn't even relax and have a good time with the love of his live, without some dude prying into their affairs with a "trying-to-bond" excuse.

Peter couldn't blame them, MJ was a revelation to behold; not only had she turned a lot of heads with her long red hair, delicate and beautiful face, perky 36D breasts, slim waist and a perfect nice and round behind, but she had always been completely dedicated to their relation and faithful.

She kept herself in shape by long strenuous bike rides, and daily laps in the pool. Also, she was very successful in her professional career, which is not much of a surprise, since she had always been very intelligent and centered.

According to Jameson, though, the event was not couple oriented, but officially a "father-son journey", which sounded ominous, but it really wasn't as sentimental as it sounded. He had a tendency to reminisce often; every employee had a personal connection to him (or so he'd like them to think). The fact alone was more of a minor annoyance than a genuine irritant, though.

It was keeping in line with the sentimental father-son bonding idea, which, if that was what one was looking for in a company trip story, could consider it nice. Even if it was not, JJ was sharp, knowledgeable, and witty, although cranky. Embracing some of the proposed nostalgia could actually feel good.

Also, sitting in a cramped bus was not the idea of an ideal vacation; it was the most heard complaint. Jameson made a publicity deal, so the Bugle would have rides totally redesigned as lounge on wheels. Pillows, couches and the seating could be transformed into "bus beds" so anyone could catch some shuteye while they cruised on to their destination. Looked like the old man was keeping his promise this time.

The year's choice was a small, somewhat isolated resort in Long Beach, a city in Nassau County, New York on a barrier island off the South Shore of Long Island. The main motivation was finding a place large enough to accommodate the staff and provide some additional options, like the beach, but not overly huge, so everyone would be scattered around, on their own individual vacation.

Long Beach was still a small city, but it attracted a fair number of tourists, also being a well established place on the backpacker trail. Many visit for the numerous art and craft shops and tailors, who produce made-to-measure clothes for a fraction of the market price. Several Internet caf├ęs, bars and restaurants had opened along the shore.

Unable to avoid the inevitable, Peter packed up about a week earlier. It helped building the psychological strength needed to endure what he considered an awful task. At the schedule date, he took a deep breath, and, along with his wife, marched towards the virtual ordeal. They were supposed to take the fancy bus at the Bugle headquarters, and travel to the proposed getaway from there.

Surprisingly enough, the going trip wasn't all that bad. Joe "Robbie" Robertson, a long time friend of the couple, and editor-in-chief at the Bugle, happened to sit next to them, and they chatted along the way. It was a smooth ride, and the sightseeing was very pleasant.

The staff boarded off the bus and gathered their stuff. They went inside and checked in for the week. The resort had similar cabin-like rooms for everyone, which helped set a bucolic mood. JJ figured that if they were going to be staying a week, it would be nice if they were "neighbors"; they would have to settle their eventual differences and that could actually improve work productivity. After a brief introduction to the place, the team had everything unpacked and they were settling into their rooms.

The lodge wasn't very big, but it was sort of comfy, and Peter was reconsidering giving a chance to those annual trips. They decided to go for a walk, to get acquainted to the place; there seemed to have a lot of work put behind the event, and maybe he could actually enjoy the company of his wife and friends.

That thought started to fade away when he bumped into someone on his way out. Unfortunately for Peter, it was none other than Nick Katzenberg, obnoxious photographer and rival. He stared for a moment at the awful man in front of him; in his late forties, nature had not been kind to Nick. Only a miniscule amount of hair remained on his head. In fact, it looked like he had more hair in his nose and ears than on his sweating head. Not to mention he was extremely overweight. The expression 'morbid obesity' did come to mind.

He was with a very pale and skinny looking teenager, about as short as Katzenberg himself. It was almost comical, actually. The kid was the extreme opposite of Nick, and he looked like a lost puppy, following the fat man around.

"Parker!" Katzenberg greeted him, while openly eyeballing Mary Jane's cleavage.

"What the hell are you doing here, Katzenberg?" Peter pouted, as his wife stood behind him, in order to avoid the bastard's glare.

"Haven't you heard?" Katzenberg tried to make fun of Peter. "Old Jameson wants a father-son bounding party this year."

"So now you use kids as leverage?" Peter mocked him back. "You truly have sunken to the bottom."

"Ha-ha!" Katzenberg faked a laugh. "He is my nephew Craig, if you must know!"

"Since when you have a nephew?" Peter asked.

"Since when do you care, Parker?" Katzenberg pretended to be hurt.

"You are right." Peter took MJ's hand and turned to leave. "I don't."

"You know, Parker," Katzenberg attempted a comeback. "Having a nephew is more than an ordinary responsibility! So he is a drug addicted at the tender age of eighteen! So what? This trip is about more than just the physical act of traveling, the odometer climbing and the number of road-signs passed: it's about my love for what's come before, for the moments I have shared with my nephew; beautiful parts, funny bits and the occasional rough patch and awkward instant."

"Maybe you should stick to decaf." Peter told the obese photographer and left, Mary Jane couldn't help but laugh.

"Spidey-lover!" Katzenberg mumbled, clearly upset by Parker's total lack of respect.

"Thanks for standing up for me, uncle Katz!" Craig tried to cheer him up.

"Shut up, junky!" Katzenberg interrupted him. "What was I thinking when I brought you here? Go find something to do!"

"B-But, uncle..." Craig was confused.

"Move!" Katzenberg shouted and pointed away.

Craig didn't know what to do, so he just complied and left. He knew that whenever his uncle was in that mood, it was best for him to stay away. He started walking towards the main reception, maybe there was a TV he could watch, and pass some of the time, or something similar.

As soon as Katzenberg got rid of his nephew, he rushed to catch up with the couple. His lack of physical resistance didn't help at all.

"Hey, Parker!" Katzenberg yelled. "Wait up!"

"What is it this time, Katzenberg?" Peter didn't stop, or even turned back.

"Guess we started on the wrong foot here." Katzenberg said, while trying hard to catch his breath. "Truce, what do you say?"

"Whatever". The couple ignored him once more.

"Come on!" Katzenberg insisted. "I just want to spend some time together... Especially with that beautiful, shapely wife of yours..."

Truth was Mary Jane was fit and stunning; her skirt clung tightly around her seductive hips, and was short enough to display to perfection a pert butt, which was accentuated by a pair of long, magnificent legs, toned through a strict exercise routine.

Her large firm bust was always on show, either if she chose to wear a range of close fitting low cut blouses or not; it wasn't any different this time around: her tight blue button down shirt pulled tightly against her skin, and strained greatly to cover her size D breasts, ending just above her navel, and exposing her lat stomach.

Her makeup was usually impeccable; her hair was long, wavy and fiery red, framing a beautiful, green-eyed, ruby-lipped face that earned her frequent compliments. She was taller than average, her wide child bearing hips simply drove men wild.

"I changed my mind, Pete." Mary Jane couldn't cope with the fat man's presence. "Why don't you grab us something to eat while I rest for a while?"

"Sure, MJ." Peter took a quick turn and ignored Katzenberg completely. "I'll be back in no time."

"Ok, Tiger." Mary Jane kissed him and headed to their cabin. "I'll be waiting."

Katzenberg just couldn't take a hint, and started accompanying Peter, as if he was invited to tag along, until he realized where Mary Jane was going.

"Uh... I just remembered I have to take care of something." He spoke out loud. "Why don't you just go ahead, and I will catch up with you later?"

Peter didn't even bother to look concerned, and continued his way onward.

Katzenberg stood in front of the soda machine, pretending he was looking for change, and waited for a few moments, until Peter was out of sight. Just as he was sure Peter was gone, Katzenberg quickly turned around and followed Mary Jane, unnoticed, wondering if she was going to do anything worthwhile.

To his discontentment, MJ calmly headed back to the hut, taking the opportunity to stare at the beautiful surroundings, it was in close contact with nature. She arrived at the doorsteps, unlocked the entrance and entered the shed.

Katzenberg had spied on her several times; one big frustration after the next. The idea of discovering or witnessing something private from the stunning supermodel was rather exciting, but every single time he attempted any stunt led to a shameful failure, to put it mildly. He approached the side wall, hoping he could, somehow, take a quick peep of what was happening inside.

Of course, if he got caught, he would have a hard time explaining to Peter what he was doing at their cabin, but he decided it was worth the risk. Katzenberg got on his tiptoes to reach the slightly tall plateau that supported the air conditioner, and placed his digital camera there, aiming at the small gap between the apparatus and its frame.

With some difficulty, he turned the visor down, so he could see what was happening inside from the vantage point, and focused at the beautiful redhead. As soon as the image cleared, he could watch as MJ had a cold drink from the fridge, grabbed a towel and then headed to the bathroom.

He stared avidly as Mary Jane entered the bathroom, and heard the sound of the latch being locked. Seeing Mary Jane in her underwear was quite hot in itself, but his main motivation was to gaze at her full glory, and, if he managed that, it would make all of Katzenberg's time and trouble worth his while, at least to his way of thinking.

He quickly rushed to the other side of the cabin, and proceeded to climb onto a flower rack, in order to have access to a small, colored-glass, ventilation window. He tried his best to peep through the small gap between the window and its frame.

Katzenberg smiled at the sight that met his eyes. There she was, five feet away, standing by the sink, completely unaware of his presence. At first, nothing happened. The target of his surveillance simply stood there, staring at the mirror. Unable to give up, Katzenberg waited patiently at his station, not exactly the most comfortable position to be in.

After a few minutes, his patience was rewarded, as his rival's sexy wife looked down at her chest and took in the sight of her bulging breasts in a tight blouse, and proceeded to cross her arms and pull on each side of her top. With her arms still crossed, bent at the elbows in front of her face, she pulled the top off her shoulders and then out of her long hair, tossing it onto a stand, just below where he was.

Then, she started tugging at her skirt. It was tight to begin with, revealing all her feminine curves; she struggled to pull them down. They inched their way down her thighs, finally to her knees and then her ankles. She stepped out one foot and sent her skirt flying with a kick across the bathroom with the other.

She stood in underwear that barely covered her large breasts and shapely hips and ass, her visible skin was well tanned. Katzenberg was well aware from previous peeping that the skin hidden by her bra was much lighter, and he hoped to see some of it. What he really wanted was for all of the untanned skin to be on display but he knew that wouldn't happen in a million years. Even the thought of the possibility made his cock start to stiffen.

Suddenly, she reached behind herself and unhooked her bra. As he watched avidly, she fondled her breasts briefly, giving Katzenberg a clear view of the prettiest tits he had ever seen. Her tan lines were quite evident, the paleness around her delicate, pink nipples glowed a milky-white next to her sun-baked skin. She shimmied the straps free of her arms, peeled off the garment and dangled from one hand, finally dropping it on top of the pile of clothes.

She only remained still for a few seconds before turning her back again but it was enough to give him a hard-on stiffer than any he had ever had. He noticed a tribal tattoo on her back, about three quarters down her spine. MJ didn't stay on her back very long, though; Katzenberg relished the view again of her breasts, especially the way they swayed as she started pushing down her tiny tight-fitting panties.

After he realized what she was doing, Katzenberg's eyes were riveted on the paler skin that was being exposed. As the garment was pushed clear of her hips and ass and allowed to fall to the ground, he couldn't believe it was actually happening and adjusted his cock so that it had the room it needed, as it was quite hard at the vision of Mary Jane undressing.

Staring at the sexiest thing he had ever seen, the tits and pussy of his rival's exquisite wife, completely naked and standing seven feet away, Katzenberg couldn't even blink. Her golden bikini line was shaved and trimmed into a reddish, thin path above her little cunt. MJ was still unaware that she was fully exposed to the overweight, arrogant photographer, and Katzenberg was quite enraptured by her voluptuous breasts and well manicured pussy.

After checking herself out in the mirror for a while, she turned a bit and bent back over to pick up her panties. He could see the weight of her breasts pull her forward as she reached down. Her pussy, seen from behind, was simply beyond words; it looked unbelievably tight. His cock almost seemed to be trying to rip through his pants at the sight of the sexy woman as she stood again, her big, firm tits pointing into the air.

As Katzenberg watched, he fantasized being there with her. He remembered all the bold comments of his low-life buddies, claiming they would give a limb just to catch a glimpse of Peter Parker's supermodel wife in the nude. He cursed at himself for leaving the camera at the other side, and not being able to record any of what he was witnessing.

Drool started running down his chin, an involuntary response to Katzenberg's reverie; his eyes started to hurt due to the lack of moisture - his eyes looked like they were glued open. The only thing he could focus on was his obsession, and how bad he wanted to pierce MJ's utterly tight cunt with his cock.

Mary Jane added her tiny, sexy panties to the stand, and stepped into the stall. She started the shower, and Katzenberg was very glad that she had plain glass doors so he could see in. Shortly after she stepped into the shower her nipples got so hard he thought they were going to pop right off of her gorgeous tits. He could see her shiver as she got herself completely wet, the water obviously too cold for her.

After she adjusted the temperature, steam started to build up, the sound of the shower running was echoing all over the bathroom. Katzenberg reached into his pants and took out the small pocket knife he usually carried. He knew he would get in serious trouble if she found out what he was doing, maybe even get arrested, but he couldn't really think straight. The latch on the window was no match to a delinquent like him; he easily picked it with his knife.

Shrouded by the steam coming from the shower, he slowly slid the window open. The small gap was only wide enough so he could reach through the cracked glass and retrieve the item in question: her panties. His heart was racing as he quickly returned to his original position, trying the best he could to lock the pane again from the outside, but it wasn't as easy, as he never bothered to learn that part.

When he was convinced the job was done, he took a moment to enjoy his trophy, placing her thong up to his nose and inhaling her womanly sweet scent. That would certainly be not only his new acquired prized possession, but the proof of what he witnessed as well. Katzenberg couldn't hold it anymore and quickly unzipped his fly and pulled out his dick. He wrapped MJ's tiny delicate panties around his cock to enhance the feeling, and so it didn't squirt onto the floor and leave sticky evidence of what he had been doing.

His heart and his breathing calmed back down after a few minutes and Katzenberg returned to his spy hole. He watched Mary Jane rub shower gel all over her body; her nipples were now enlarged and poking out a little. As her hands moved slowly and seductively all over her body, he thought he was going to blow his load right there. He could see the water running down her body, around her stunning tits, down her stomach and dripping off the trim, soft path of hair above her pussy.

As he watched, Mary Jane's hand moved from her breast to her pussy, reaching down almost between her legs and started to rub. He wished his cock could somehow trade places with her fingers, even for a few seconds. He stared in awe at what she was doing and the dynamics of her big tits and the rest of her body.