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Morgan appears quite bored with her high-quality lifestyle by now. But as long as she can rest assured that most other lives would be worse, she adapts.

She takes to the tennis court. John Jameson, a rich neighbor of hers, is on the other side of the court, "dribbling" the tennis ball, and ready for her.

Far below, stuck to the back to the skirt of Morgan's tennis outfit, Peter isn't sure how he feels about John. He is, after all, the son of a really annoying newspaper editor he can think of...

John serves. Morgan barely reacts while returning his serve. He runs across the court, and returns her swing. Morgan barely moves as she returns John's.

Morgan's got perfect balance. She's just like her mother...

Peter yawns. He almost falls off her skirt. He shoots a web, and catches himself just as he's about to fall over the hem of her skirt. It may be just a beautiful girl's ass, but it's a dangerous world up here.

Peter's had enough of this. He's in it for the thrills.

Precariously, he swings his way up to Morgan's shoulder. Once there, he swings along her dominant arm until he gets to the giant bracelet around her wrist. Once there, he waits for his chance. He doesn't have to wait very long.

He swings across the racket. The ball approaches. She shoots a web and latches himself to the ball...mere nanoseconds before Morgan swings. Before Peter knows it, he's flying across the net.

If the ball weren't spinning so much while airborne, he'd have a better view of the court. But it's just as well; flights up here don't tend to last long.

He comes down towards John. It's looking like his racket is going to hit the ball right where Peter's perched on it...

If this weren't the late 1860s, Peter would've seen the part of Aladdin when he's stuck on a snowy cliff, and a tower from the palace almost pancakes him and Abu before rolling off the cliff... Alas, as fun as that illusion is, and as much as Arabian Nights is liked even nowadays (and by Peter especially), Walt Disney won't be born for another three decades...

Peter studies John's racket, and steadily crawls into position. He briefly surfaces through a gap in the netting of John's catgut-right before John swings the ball back to Morgan.

And once again, Peter is airborne. It's in moments like these Peter envies most superheroes who fly...

He's so honored that Johnny Storm turned up at his funeral. Hopefully he won't take it TOO hard when he finds out Peter's alive...

Morgan sure looks great in that outfit... But as long as it lasts, Peter can't miss an opportunity to ride on a tennis ball.

The hours pass. Morning becomes afternoon.

A girl from Peter's neighborhood likes to loaf in the Starks' pool when no one's around. She really likes her black swimsuits. She's Felicia Hardy...daughter of the once-great cat burglar. Peter's seen her around his own neighborhood...alas, Felicia doesn't seem as into him as she is into her father's profession...which, of course, worries everyone else half to death, including Aunt May...

Felicia hears a noise from inside the house. Like a cat's, her ears go up. She bails off the float, swims to the poolside, leaps out, sprints away, and vanishes over the fence. Indeed, she gets more and more catlike with every move she makes.

Goddess, Felicia's sure got some mountainous boobs. If she wasn't so skittish, Peter would mountaineer them sometime...

Morgan comes outside. She takes off her towel. She wades into the water. She hoists herself onto the float, and rests her eyes.

Ah, she's in heaven now. But then, with hair that blonde, Peter's surprised that she and her mother haven't moved to Asgard...especially now that Mr. Stark isn't around to stop them anymore...

Nah, Peter shouldn't talk like that about Mr. Stark. Not after everything he did to give him his big break...

Time passes. The pool water's waves get smaller. Morgan's undercarriage is submerged. Her legs are like peaks sticking up out of the ocean.

Her navel is like a lake. The pool water in it still hasn't evaporated...for some reason.

Peter seizes the opportunity, and swims in Morgan's navel. He's very hard now.

High above, Morgan smiles happily, and takes a relaxing breath. She has no clue that she's got a stalker swimming in her navel.

Through Morgan's mountainous legs, Peter can see part of the inside of the Stark residence. Ms. Potts is in there.

Peter stops swimming, and stares at her. He's been wondering how lonely Ms. Potts has been since her husband was KIA...

As her eyes are closed, Ms. Potts bumps into a small chest. A gold coin falls off of it. She stops, as she hears it. She sees it.

She'd be a fool not to. Aunt May cherishes every gold coin she gets as if it was going out of style.

Ms. Potts bends over to collect it. Peter can see her downblouse from where he is...

Morgan's mom has got it going on. She's all Peter wants, and he's waited for so long...

The pool waves cause Morgan's float to rotate again. Peter clings to the fantastic sight of the cave in Ms. Potts's chest for as long as he can...before he can no longer see it through Morgan's mountainous thighs.

The waves are right; Morgan's closer to Peter's age. She needs a man too...although frankly, Peter doesn't get why she hasn't fallen for John yet...