Spider Web Titties Novels & Stories

"You're away." She let go of the branch and fell unceremoniously towards the earth. Although unnecessary, Shane caught her in his arms. "Tell no one," she muttered, staring suspiciously at the web. "She doesn't really have pet spiders does she?" "Black widow," Banshee said, overhearing everything, "brown recluse, three species of tarantulas --"

Multiple something's. I looked down and my life flashed before my eyes. Spiders, thousands of baby spiders and crickets. Why? "Ahhhhhhh." I screamed as one landed on my bare arm. I shook vigorously to get them off. I was quick to hop from foot to foot out of the bathroom as thousands of little spiders followed. "Help." I screamed to nobody in particular. I needed help. They were killer spiders. I had seen a book on them. A high breed spider that I should've never been able to create.

Call me paranoid. Call me what you will. But this place was freakish, and never more clearly than now as I pushed through a crowd gathered around a transparent tank in which an armless and horribly burn-scarred man wearing nothing but a Speedo sat among thousands of hairy spiders that crawled over his body like a shivering coat of fleece. The onlookers squealed as the object of their delight opened his mouth, inviting one of the hairy crawlers inside. When the spider accepted the invitation, their voices grew even shriller. When the man bit into it, they lost all semblance of belonging to a civilized species.

"What about the one crawling on your tail?" "The what--?" Jinx looked back and froze. There were what looked like hundreds of tiny spiders spinning webs to cover the entrance to the alcove. A few were walking over Jinx's tail and he had to resist every instinct to flick them off. "Of course. I should have fucking known that there wasn't going to be an easy escape."

‘It’s a race against time, and a race between heart and mind.’ **** I pinched myself. “Ouch!” I shrieked. “It really isn’t a dream. Okay, calm down, Pearl Bennet, you can do this.” The words for reassuring myself weren’t helping at all. My heart was still thundering inside my chest. Sweat pricked my forehead and the back of my neck, making my baby hair to stick there. Using a handkerchief, I swiftly made myself less sweaty.

Didn't want to look awkward or out of place for the same reason I feel suddenly out of place. Ahead, a woman is suspended in an elaborate rope web – arms spread, legs apart, blindfolded. A man trails a feather down her stomach. She giggles every time it hits a sensitive spot. I almost laugh out loud because all I can think is, ‘girl, you look like Spider-Man caught you mid-swing and decided to keep you as decor.’

I see her full nude glory: hourglass goddess, 38G tits swaying pendulums, wide hips, juicy thighs framing drenched slit. My cock harder than steel, when she shakes her breast and touches it seductively. My dick throbbing angirly, veins bulging, I've been blue-balled weeks fantasizing this titty-fuck now the time is here. “Do you want these pillows milking you?" She grins naughty, kneeling again, scoops her tits around dick. “Hmmm, Belle,” I moaned, her breast, soft hot flesh engulfed in total, only my dicks's black head peeking.

“Don’t start.” “Oh, I will absolutely start,” she said, dropping into the seat beside me without asking. “You married the boss, Bella. You don’t just get to sit there and not spill tea.” “There is no tea,” I muttered. “Don’t lie to me,” she sang, leaning in. “So… does he cook shirtless or not?” I choked on air. “What?” “Come on! Scout Cromwell? That man’s got jawlines carved by Greek gods. I’m just trying to live through you.”

We didn’t see each other often, but when we did, it was like picking up a conversation we’d paused mid-sentence months ago. “…and then,” Lena was saying, “the guy actually asked if my hair and lashes were real. As if extensions are some deep moral failing.” Miri snorted into her cappuccino. “You do make it look like it defies the laws of physics.” “Oh, God. I hate men. They do not have sense of humor, and uh! Sense of comprehension. They don’t use their brains at all,” Lena said with frustration. I laughed, letting their chatter fill the space in my head that had been too full of Ryder lately. But of course, the reprieve was short-lived.