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“Will you marry me?” Hiromi asked, and you stared at him for a second, almost too focused on how fast his heart was beating, and the tiny sweat beads forming at his temple as he tightly gripped the flower bouquet.
That was two days ago, marking three months after the accident. You remember a good portion of the event, but the sensation of the bite against your neck will forever be embedded in your memory. Perhaps it’s because the bite of that black and red spider is the reason for the extreme changes that occurred in your body.
You distinctly remember the smell of the air that day. Smoke and gasoline. You had taken a trip to the Dinosaur Museum just after work. Dinosaurs weren't and still aren’t exactly an interest of yours, but at the time you had watched this shitty movie, and wanted to see some bones.
Lucky for you, a college class was taking a tour, so you walked behind the myriad of students, while people rushed in and out of the museum. A short man with stumbles, and a polo shirt with the name of the museum across it, led you through the exhibition, his squeaky voice rambling on about dinosaurs, random facts and their extinction.
“Now this is the Apex, Stegosaurus. A plant-eating, armoured dinosaur, with a spiky tail…”He trailed off while you ventured around, eyes trailing over the large, pasty white bones.
You didn't feel the black widow trail over your body until you hiss, the sharp sensation of something biting your neck, making you tightly gasp. When your hand slapped down on the itchy skin, you felt the squish of the spider, and its body lay flat and bloody on your palm.
You had seen it as just an accident, given that you were too busy trying not to stare at Hiromi from a distance. You quickly cleaned off the spider and stood still as he walked next to you, stopping to look at the engraved description of the bones.
Your tan cheeks turned red, and he stared at the dinosaur bones, while you admired his lightly tanned skin and large nose.
“You come here often?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at your boyfriend, until a smile breaks at his lips, and he’s leaning into you, hands curling at your waist.
“Do you?’ He retorts. You resist the urge to run a hand through his short, well-kept dark hair, styled to flow to the back of his head.
Sickness curled in the back of your spine, and you shook your head at the offer to go back to his place. When you arrived home, the change began with the light.
Everything felt as if it were flashing, and it didn't just hurt; it felt heavy, pressing against your retinas until your pupils seemed to fracture and bleed into four distinct points of focus. As you heaved and shuddered, the world suddenly hummed with the sickening, rhythmic thrum of heat signatures and pulse points.
Your spine trembled, and an itch began to settle along your body, rushing through your wrist, where silk began to stir, under your veins, thick and suffocating, cutting a hole in each of your wrists. A flash of silk shot from your wrist, landing in the corner of the room, and as heat flashed and your spine popped into an arch, silk dripping from the sensitive wound.
When you woke up, the oak floorboard of your apartment was covered in thick webbing, and a hollow chill passed through your body, as you heard every sound outside, watching the city people turn into a vast, vibrating larder. Interacting with people became harder because you didn’t just hear their heartbeats, you heard every single movement they made, including when their teeth smacked into the flesh of their mouths.
The next day, you were in a bar, just in the far back, trying to train yourself to adjust to the new profound sensitivity. The smell of alcohol was putrid, like hand sanitiser, and as you fought the need to perch on the seat rather than sit like a normal human, your legs shook and every noise curled against your eardrum.
Saint Mary’s, the bar was mysteriously positioned in front of Hiromi’s work building, and you could hear the unique thump of his heart and the soft vibration of his footsteps as you walked out of the bar. He was barely leaving the building, and you crossed the street, discreetly walking behind him while some dude followed behind you from the bar.
You were hyper aware of every movement. The way Hiromi's ears twitched, how his Oxford shoes sounded against the concrete, the smell of cedarwood, the sweat rumbling through skin, and the sound of his shirt sticking to his skin.
The man behind you smelled of sweat and beer, a stench that made your nose runny and sensitive, akin to the smell of chemicals. You felt terrible for a second, because despite knowing you had a newfound strength and could very well defend yourself, you latched onto Hiromi’s side, “Baby, I was waiting for you.” You gleamed.
You could hear Hiromi’s heartbeat pick up, and he turns, eyes fixing on the strange man. “Oh, sorry, honey….” he says just loud enough that the man stops and swerves around.
Yet, he never moves your arm, and you feel your body burn hot, web beginning to pour from the sensitive spidernets in your wrists. “Can you…walk me home? I wanted to see you after work?” You murmur, in a low voice, eyes fluttering up to see Hiromi’s pink cheeks.
A small smile curls up to his face, “You shouldn’t trust a stranger so easily…”
You laugh at his words. A small belly laugh that makes your shoulders shake, because if anything, he’s the one who shouldn’t be trusting you.
This new profound change, drumming through your body, has dangerously attached itself to the idea of possessing him. Each second, close to him, is a struggle with will and want.
You had his heartbeat already memorised, and a small strand of microplastic silk was already placed on his suit. The new changes riveting in your body made it impossible to stay over at his place. You could no longer fall asleep in a bed, as your body shifted to crawling to your makeshift silk-web bed, resembling that of a hammock.
You aren’t some superhero. But by the time your body was finally accustomed to how odd everything was, you had started using your abilities to help around the city in a shitty, makeshift black-and-red costume that stuck to your body.
By the second date, the newspaper had started reporting on the weird phenomenon of people swinging from building to building. Whether it be helping old ladies cross the street, saving a train from falling after an explosion on the tracks, and your personal favourite, a badly planned robbery that ended with three guys webbed to the ceiling. It was a hobby, by no means an obligation.
Well, that was until your second date with Hiromi, where you had to use your ability. You were the one who picked the place, a ramen place by the name of Toribro Ramen. After the bite, your taste buds had turned sensitive, often craving liquid foods or soft foods, and ramen became a constant want.
You were pushed into the corner of the restaurant, ears picking up on the movement and workers in the back, until you hear a yelp, and a cry for help. A man had stormed into the restaurant, and behind him, another man was carrying a machete, blood dripping from the sharp edge.
The iron smell of the red liquid threw off your senses, and quick flashes of web erupted from your wrist, while everyone rushed to cover themselves. Hiromi rushed to your side, using his body to cover you while the thick webbing trapped the man's body and his machete against the brick wall interior.
You were trying to focus on keeping him on the wall, but Hiromi’s hands were cupping the small of your back, while another one pressed you to him. You could see the tiny hairs standing up in the back of his neck, and the thick, strong scent of paper and wood on him. In the seconds of chaos, you pressed your face to his back, inhaling and inhaling until all you could smell was paper and wood.
While people rushed to call the cops and help the poor guy covered in blood, Hiromi turned, “You alright?”
You felt sick, sensing your pupils dilating too much as if the irises were splitting into two. You looked away, rapidly blinking, trying to shut out the noise of every heartbeat, thumping at once. “Y/N.” Your hands trapped your ears, and you stumbled out of the restaurant, Hiromi following behind you.
When you stopped, you found yourself inside some dingy corner, Hiromi still behind you. “Sorry, sorry, you breathed out, “My ears and eyes… they’ve been getting super sensitive.”
“You want to go to the hospital? It’s alright,” He responds, warm hands slowly laying on top of yours, and when you finally look up at him, he’s staring at you. Warmth spread all over your body, and you’ve stopped shaking, though the smell of him still lingered in your nose.
You shake your head, “No. No, it’s fine. I just need to sit down…”
TWorry cracks on his face, and he smiles softly before trailing his hands down to your waist. “Let’s go back home. It’s a lot quieter.”
Home was his apartment. Before the bite, you had been planning to move in, but now the idea seems to far fetched. Too dangerous.
Yet, you craved that normalcy of going to his place whenever you wanted. So sometimes, when you couldn’t hear his heartbeat or the vibration of his footsteps around his apartment, you’d crawl inside, sniff the sheets that soaked his natural scent, and linger around, leaving tiny silk webs around the apartment.
You’ve never felt guilty about any of that. He was your already, what was the harm in keeping your belongings safe? The worst of the change was the sudden turn to abstinence. Three months of deflecting, sex with shitty excuses of “my body hurts”, “I'm not feeling it”, “I’m on my period”, and “maybe another day”.
Now, you’re perched on his couch, staring at the screen, unmoving, a thick diamond rock on your fingers. You can feel Hiromi tense next to you. “You’ve been…still for twenty minutes. You haven’t blinked once. Not once.”
You don’t turn to him, eyes still entranced on the TV screen, huddled against your own skin. A shiver crawls through his flesh, and you shrug. “I’m listening.”
Hiromi doesn’t say anything, and you don’t move either, not until a ridiculously loud sex scene plays. You’re hyper-focused on Hiromi’s movements, and the way he suddenly smells sweet, like honey with a tinge of sweat. When you turn, his pupils are dilated, and his breathing is ragged.
Since getting together, you’ve only shared heated kisses and a few gropes. You don’t trust yourself with him, but you can’t help crawling to him, and nuzzling your face into his neck, breathing in his smell. He sighs, and you kiss his neck, tongue darting to lick the flesh.
“Y/N”, he breathes, hands immediately cupping your face. “My pretty girl.”
Your body feels as though it’s melting, and you lean forward, finally perched on his lap, with your hands on his shoulder, trying not to dig and break skin. You lick his mouth, tongue curling at every crevice, while you grind your hips down, sighing against his mouth.
“Smells…” Hiromi murmurs against your lips, hands cupping your hips, “Sweet.”
Let me in. Let me in. That’s all your brain says, as heat crawls down your spine. When you pull away, Hiromi’s lips are wet, and his face is flushed, a pink tint dragging from his face, down to his collarbone.
You drag your hips up and down, and you can feel him get hard, because his tired eyes are now lidded, and his grinding back against you, bottom lip etched into his teeth.
The sensation of needing to touch and crawl across Hiromi’s skin is visceral. A low purr bubbles along your throat, and you back down on his lips, tongue slipping inside, and there’s a slick glide of his tongue against yours that feels too much. A gasp rings out from your lips as you practically ride Hiromi’s clothed cock.
His nails dig into your waist as he lightly bounces you, wetness seeping into his sweatpants. Your cunt clenches, and you’re sure your shorts have made an imprint of your pussy.
Your hands are quick around Hiromi’s shirt, dragging it above his head, until you’re staring at his chest, eyes focused, zoning in on the little red marks across his pecs. Your nails rake across his chest, and you move down, placing yourself on his thigh, kneecap digging between his legs.
Your hands cup the wet patch on his grey sweatpants, grinding down your palm, as you lather kisses on his chest, suckling on the flesh until you’re sure he’s marked.
Above you, Hiromi’s groans, “Marking me again, pet. Keep grinding those hips on me, baby.”
You nod against his chest, bucking your hips while you palm him, teeth grazing the now red flesh. Pleasure runs through your veins, and you purr against his chest, sending tiny vibrations across his skin that make him shudder. You enjoy this. The reaction. The power. How easily he turns into prey, just with the press of your palm on him.
Your clit drags down his thigh, and you’re pushing down the sweatpants, letting his cock spring out. A hiss rings above you, and you let a thick glob of spit fall to the head of his cock, watching it mix with precum. Your wrist flexed, wrapping around the length, observing the way Hiromi’s groaning, and flushing pink, body trembling.
You don’t realise you’ve stopped moving, going eerily silent, until the room only rings with the wet squelch of Hiromi’s cock, and the his loud, ragged breathing. Your tongue licks his neck, sharp teeth contracting, grazing his neck, down to his collarbone.
“Oh fu–” He whines, and you flick your wrist at the sensitive redhead, feeling the quick tremors that rumble through Hiromi's body. His hips jerk, muscles tightening, and soon he’s whimpering, cum spurting from the head.
His head falls backwards, leaning to the side, pressed against the couch. His chest heaves up and down, and you're licking the cum off your hand, tongue darting to taste the salty residue. When Hiromi opens his eyes, he finds you watching him, a smile painted on your face. “Did you–”
You nod, “You know I don’t make much noise.”
His eyes narrow, and you’re quick to kiss him, making him taste himself, as your tongue tangles with him. You don’t stay the night. You never do.
“You used to stay over all the time?” He drawled out, watching you put on your flats and collect your keys.”
You shrug, “Yeah, but these months the company has…these intense projects, and it’s my job to get them done.”
It’s always the same lame excuse. A late project. A friend is coming over. Needing to clean. Something always keeps you from staying at his place.
This time it isn’t any of those things. Mating season is the reason for being away from him. You’ve found yourself itching to web him on any surface and using him for your own pleasure. Your apartment is now filled with barely translucent silk webs, in every corner, and an unbearable heat flashes through your body every night.
Your body has gone even more sensitive now. Every brush has you whining, yet you can’t seem to get yourself off. Nothing satisfies you, besides the constant idea of Hiromi filling your belly.
But mating season wasn’t the only thing on your list. Every night, some accident had to happen around the city, requiring you to swing across your apartment to the area. After you arrived at his apartment, you barely had any time to call or text him before,
The old police scanner sitting on the edge of your desk crackles. The static humming stops, and then, a voice breaks through the white noise.
“All units, be advised, we have a Priority 1 commercial alarm at the CVS on 4th. RP reports a 10-92 Robbery in progress”
Another voice cuts in, and you’re quick to change out of your shorts and sweater, slipping into the black and red suit. “Unit 42, copies. I’m en route. What’s the BOLO on the subject?”
"Subject is a male, wearing a grey 'tech-fleece' hoodie and a blue surgical mask. Armed with a pepper spray or a small-caliber weapon. Last seen on foot heading toward the subway entrance.”
Your pupils dilate, and as you crawl out of the apartment, you can feel the thymic thrum of the sirens miles away, a low-frequency pulse crawling to you. It takes mere minutes before you’re picking up on the frantic footsteps of boots, slapping against the oily puddles of the city.
Trapping someone in a thick glob of web while people move and scream can be difficult. Even worse when they’re carrying a gun.
While people push and pull at each other, you fire again and again, translucent threads lashing out like whips. A satisfying snap echoes as the silk anchors to the ceiling of the subway station and drags him backwards. You pull the line, hoisting him until his feet dangle, wrapping him in a cage of your own making.
After that night, crime keeps going up, and you don’t see Hiromi as much. It got to the point of lying to him, saying that you were visiting a distant family member outside the city. Worse part, the newspaper keeps producing more and more words and stories about a spider-woman dangling and crawling from the ceilings to each lightpost around the city.
You use the crime to detach yourself from Hiromi, keeping a light distance. You only crawl to his place and watch him sleep, after you’ve finished helping, watching him from the corner of the room, as he softly snores, murmuring to himself.
Something was changing about Hiromi’s place, though. You had crawled back to his apartment after preventing a train accident, and when you entered, a shrill scream in the base of your skull pounded.
It was as if you were being watched. You take the mask off, nose scenting every corner of the apartment as you crawl around the walls, trying to find what is watching you.
The heavy thud of Hiromi’s Oxford shoes makes you pause, and you’re quick to swing away, placing the mask back on before swinging back to your apartment. Hiromi began to call you every night after that, recounting his day while you make up some shit story about a cousin and helping them with their farm. In reality, you were swinging from Fifth Avenue to the nearest subway, trying to prevent a trio of kids from dying.
The routine lasted about a week before you told him you were coming to the city. In hindsight, you should’ve known something was wrong when he didn’t call you. But you were too busy trying to prevent a bomb from exploding in a school.
You’re barely a few meters away, listening to the blaring of police lights and the shrill scream and jeers of the people, when you begin to smell Hiromi’s scent, mingling with a pungent smell of flowers and perfume.
You shrug it off, opening the window, chalk it up to the dirty clothing of his, you keep wed next to your hammock bed. You’re too tired to notice the familiarity of the heartbeat in your room, not until you’re crawling inside, and you snap your attention to him, touching your nightstand.
You both stare at each other as he wipes his hand, still in his suit. “Hiromi.”
“Spiders, huh?” The smell of flowers and perfume makes you gag. “Funny…I thou–”
“Why do you smell like that?” You ask, head tilting, crawling into your room. You should be focused on the fact that he’s looking at you while you’re wearing the suit. But the smell of someone attached to his skin has your brain unfocused.
He smells nervous, a tinge of fear and something sweet lingering under his skin. “Why are you here? Why do you smell like that?”
“I was meeting with a client,” He responds, and you wait for his heartbeat to quicken. “And I wanted to see my girlfriend. The one who was supposed to see me today after being with her…cousin.”
“A woman?”
He nods. Your eyes narrow, a surge of anger flashing through your veins. “Did something happen?”
“I feel like we should talk about the more obvious….” he trails off, looking around the room, “Situation, and no, nothing happened, we talked about the case.”
“You’re lying.”
He laughs, eyes fixed on the spider embedded on the black and red suit, “You’re pissed about a woman….your room is covered in webs. My fiancée is the–the Spider-Woman everyone is talking about.”
You move from the window, dragging the mask over your face. You’re too quick, cornering him to the wall, and your nose is dragging along his suit, inhaling every scent. A bagel, tomatoes, perfume, skin, sweat.
“I can’t believe this.” You sneer out, covering your nose from the pungent smell of some other woman's perfume on him. “I protect you and–and you go off and rub some other woman's perfume on your jacket. Yeah, I lied about you, and–what I do, but I don’t go around rubbing some guy's cologne on me, do I?”
“That’s not what happ–”
You move away from him, “Take a shower. Take a shower.” and you’re back on him, grabbing his wrist. “It reeks.”
Hiromi doesn’t move. His eyes are searching, and searching. “How long?”
Your eyebrows furrow. “What?”
“How long have you been like this? Before we met? After? Is it you who keeps staring at me while I sleep?”
You flinch, “No...”
“A client for a domestic case brushed against me today. She passed out, and I carried her. Just for a few seconds. Most humans don’t smell that.” The smell of nervousness dissolves, and his eyes are now intensely looking at you, waiting for you to respond.
“I–”
He leans down to you, looking at your eyes, lips curling, “There it is again. Your eyes…they flash red, every time you get nervous…must have been before I asked you to marry me.”
You let his hand drop as if you’ve been burnt, eyes looking the other way. “ Tiny silk webs all over, even in my apartment. Were you ever going to tell me?”
You stay silent, and he clicks his teeth, “I hate when people lie to me. I’ll cancel the reservation for the wedding. If you can’t let me in, then maybe you don’t want me at all.”
Your throat tightens, and you watch him shuffle out of your room. Maybe it’s the post-fight adrenaline, or the scary thought of being away from Hiromi. Maybe it’s both.
But he barely makes it to the living room before Silk's webs are shooting out of your wrist, taping him to the door. A heavy thud rings in the apartment, and he’s slammed face-first on the door. “Oh fuck.” he groans.
“Oh my…” You gasp, looking at your hands, “Oh– fuck, I am so so sorry,” You cry out, moving to clutch the thick webbing, “Why would you say that? Why would you say that?” You repeat the same sentence, eyes swelling with tears.
Your nails dig through the web, and you’re quick to catch Hiromi and set him on the couch, while he coughs, hands pressed against his chest. You move from him, idly standing next to the webbed couch while he recovers.
“I didn’t mean to–to not tell you. I just couldn’t.” You whisper to him, falling to your knees, “I would never hurt you or–or allow anyone to hurt you.”
Hiromi stops coughing, “Camera caught you when you crawled inside.”
“When?”
“A couple of days ago. A client threatened me, so I…had to take some precaution.” He shrugged, leaning back into the couch, “But then imagine my surprise, seeing you crawl around in all fours. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“The corner of your mouth twitches, and your chest tightens again. “I couldn’t.”
A flash of pain curls through his face. “What?”
“I’m–I was afraid that…someone would find out, and if…if something happened to you because of me–because of what I do…I’d never forgive myself.” You purse your lips into a thin line, “Are you afraid of me, now?”
Hiromi blinks, and his throat bobs. He pats his lap, and you wait a few seconds, perching yourself on it, feet between his legs.
“There you are. You never really sit down, you know?” He murmurs, patting your head, “It’s not your job to keep eyes on me all the time. I gotta learn to take care of myself…and you have to take care of yourself as well, it’s not healthy putting yourself in danger.”
“I have these abilities…why not you use?” You whisper against your kneecaps, staring at his small eyes. “They appreciate it. Some are assholes, yeah, but I keep…people safe.”
“And you? Who keeps you safe?”
You pause, moving your head to stare at the webbed TV. It’s been a while since you’ve actually sat down and enjoyed being human. Everything seems so…tight. You’re too nervous to sit down, in case you have to swing out and save someone from being killed, and watch over Hiromi when he’s meeting a client.
“You keep me safe.” You reply, turning your head to him. “You’ll always keep me safe, right? And we’ll get married…and–and I'll continue to watch over you. I would never hurt you.”
He smirks, head tilting, “I’m not cancelling that wedding, even if you had let me walk out. But tell me, you’ve never thought about me webbed down, unable to move? Or how about wrapped around in your little silk webbings?”
You duck your head, heat flashing through your skin. He got you there. “Where do the silks come from?”
He has gone this far; it doesn't matter now. He watches you hitch the hoodie off your wrist, revealing the spinnerets. The flesh around it is a dark tan color, and his thumb brushes against it.
Your body tenses, an involuntary whimper flashing through your body. “Sensitive?” and his voice drops to a sultry rasp.
You nod, “Really sensitive.”
His thumb presses down on the wound, rubbing around it, while you whimper, shuddering against him. A clump of webs pours from the wound, and he groans, a hand snaking around your waist pressing into him. When he brings your wrist to his lips, the base of your skin vibrates, and he presses a feather-light kiss before giving the mark the merest kitten lick.
Your body jolts as if being electrocuted, and you’re quick to jump off his lap, body reaching the wall. He stares in bewilderment, while you catch your breath, “Not letting you touch me until you shower.”
“Still jealous, my spiderling,” he croons, getting up from the couch. He watches the way your feet clutch to the wall, eyes lingering on your hand pressed down. “I’ll shower, and then…”
“I’ll show you how sensitive I am now.”
When Hiromi comes out of the shower, you’re stressed in a babydoll lingerie set, lying on the makeshift web bed, above the actual bed. He stares at you for a second, a blush creeping to his cheeks, “Feel like you’re going to eat me.”
You crawl to him, holding out your hands and helping him climb the webbing. His boxers hang on his hips, and the marking on his chest has now faded. “Never…unless you want me to.”
He moves, capturing your lips, hands travelling under, the sheer ruffles of the lingerie set. He’s warm all over, and you gasp as he rakes his short nails over your skin. Hiromi taste like coffee and mint, and he kisses you like he wants to eat you whole.
You sigh against him while he teases your bottom lip with his soft tongue. A high-pitched whine leaves your lips, and your tongue twines together, while one hand grab at your hips, and his leg slides in between yours.
He’s hovering over you, and the sudden feel of his thumb brushing against the mark on your wrist has your muscles clenching.
“Going to see how sensitive those wrists are, and then,” Hiromi murmurs against your lips, “You’re gonna grind that pretty pussy on my face, you understand?”
You nod, head bobbing, until his hand disappears from your waist, cupping your chin, “Words.”
A meek mewl rumbles from your throat, “Yes, sir.”
“Atta girl.” He groans, and soon his tongue is on the inside of your elbow, dragging it to your wrist, pressing a light kiss on the leaking wound. His tongue lunges to the sensitive skin as you whine, pressing your cunt down to his strong thigh.
You buck your hips, while Hiromi sucks on the wound, letting fresh slick and silk flow into his mouth, humming as he feels the pulse of your cunt against his skin. “Sir, plea–please,” You mewl, hand darting to the back of his thigh, trying to get more friction or relief.
Every inch of your body feels on fire, senses dilating to hear and smell everything, from the small moans circling Hiromis’ mouth as he sucks on the spinneret, to the musky smell of his precum.
He’s getting off to this.
You blink tears away from your eyes, trying to calm your breathing until Hiromi’s tongue prods at the tiny opening, licking the inside. Your spine curls, and it’s as if your body is being electrified with pleasure.
The base of your skull tingles, and you writhe in place, trying to keep your strength from pushing Hiromi away. Your nails dig into the webs under you, body tensing when Hiromi’s finger slides its way to your cunt, rubbing your clit through the lace panties.
“I missed you,” Hiromi whispers huskily, pulling away from the spinnerts to your face. His eyes are lidded, and his flushed, eyebrows kitted together, “Don’t leave me again.”
You sigh against his mouth, grinding into his finger, one hand circling to his hair, “I won’t.” and you grind back into his finger, feeling slick pour of your cunt, “I’ll web you to my wall…so you can’t leave me either.”
Hiromi groans, rutting his leaking cock down your thigh, each pathetic thrust in time with how he circles his fingers, while his thumb rubs the swollen and leaking spinneret. “You’ll tie me up?” he breathes, pulling in to suck down your neck, biting down on the thumping carotid, while you fall apart in his hands.
You nod, fast and feverish, “Use you, and feed you.”
Hiromi whines, biting down, making you meekly yelp, and you’re sure he’s left his teeth print on your neck. Every word you could utter died in your throat as you whimper and hump his fingers, soaking through the panties, feeling Hiromi go back to your wrist. A crackle of heat strikes your pussy, and you feel dizzy, gasping for air.
Your webbed ceiling begins to look blurry, and you feel the hairs on your body stand up, while Hiromi continues to tongue-fuck the sensitive inside of the spinnerests. A choked sob rips from his throat, back arching into his body.
“Fucckkk,” You slur, gasping tightly, and Hiromi is quick to slide the wet panties to the side, finger gliding past the curls that frame your cunt, quickly sinking in one finger.
Your stomach tightens for a second, and as he pumps the finger in and out, one turns into two, and you hiccup. The right wrist shoots a thick strand of web into the wall, and your body shudders.
“So responsive,” Hiromi croons, pulling away from your wrist, moving to kiss under your jaw, licking a fat stripe against your neck. “From your wrist to your pussy. You keep leaking ‘round my fingers, baby. Tell me what you need.”
You huff out a moan, cheeks flushing as the loud, slick noise from your pussy and the spinnerets echo around the room. You bucking into his fingers again, head going fuzzy and warm, “Need–”
Hiromi laughs, leaning over your ear, all mean and condescending, watching you dumbly jerk into his fingers. “Licked your wrist, and you’re already cock-dumb…haven’t even fucked you yet.”
“Cum–” You gasp all high-pitched and needy, feeling the tendrils of an orgasm, building in your stomach. The sensation sizzles along the base of your skull, as your walls flutter around his fingers, “Need t–to cum…sir, pleaseplease.”
Fat, hot tears slowly paint your flushed cheeks, and Hiromi pumps his fingers, curling them until you feel full, just barely around the edge of releasing on his fingers. He rubs circles around the spinnerets, watching in awe as your eyes flash red, and slick, gooey silk pours from your wrists.
He doesn’t break eye contact; both of your pupils dilate wide enough that it’s as if redness has eaten the natural color of your irises, rendering them barely perceptible. Your noses touch, and his lips hover over yours, catching your bottom lip between his teeth.
He bites into it, while you hiss, a brief residue of blood lathering across your lips before the wound quickly closes itself, leaving only red liquid behind. He laps at it, and a bolt of heat jolts down your spine, need glazing your eyes.
“Doing so good for me. Cum on my fingers, my pretty spider,” He coaxes, two fingers curling inside you while his thumb rubs circles around your puffy clit. The sensation of his other thumb digging into the spinneret makes your pulse stop for a second, white-hot pleasure bubbling along your veins, as you clamp around his fingers, cumming with a loud, choked sob.
Slick coats the cleft of your ass, and Hiromi backs away, but not before slotting your lips together, sucking on your tongue, groaning into you. He stares in pride, watching you twitch and shudder against the bed of silk.
Your left wrist is all red and puffy, and beneath the bed of curls, your cunt glistens, sensitive and twitching around nothing. Hiromi grabs the back of your thighs, kissing your kneecap, “You promised to give me another one…you’re gonna be good for me, right?” He asks, steady and low.
Your chest heaves, and you stare at him through glossy eyes, not trusting yourself ot babble incoherently. You nod, desperate, forcing out just one word, “Please.”
“Perfect.” And he’s lowering down, placing a soft kiss on your inner thighs, licking and sucking on the skin. He hovers over your cunt, placing a feather-light kiss, and you hiss. Hiromi gives your pussy one long lick before he’s zoned in on your clit.
You whimper, tears coating your cheek, while he devours your cunt, and slick dribbles down. Your body trembles, while Hiromi coaxes another whimper out of your throat, groaning into your pussy,. Each sound pushes a wave of vibrations, making your legs spasm.
“Oh–oh, oh, fuck–” you babble, overstimulation eating away at your brain, and you grind on Hiromi’s face, while he sucks on your clit with a purpose. Drool slides down your chin, and your hands fly to his hair.
You try not to pull, but the sensation of emptiness is too overwhelming. Your pussy is soaked, making lewd noises while Hiromi eats you like he doesn’t have work in the morning. “Ins–inside.” You moan, “Plea–please, fuck…me already.”
He doesn’t move. Not until his teeth glide just right under the hood of your clit. Your body explodes with a high-pitched sob, back arched, and eyes crossed. You feel slick pour and pour out of your body, twitching and shaking, while Hiromi pulls away. Your brain feels too stupid to reply to any of Hiromi’s praises.
That’s my pretty girl. Cumming all over my tongue, making such pretty little noises. So, good for Sir.
Hiromi slides to your face, licking your mouth open, and you let him, body to work out to grip onto his shoulder. You feel boneless, like some doll. He filthily slaps the top of his cock against your clit, and you shudder, while he coats his leaking cock with your slick.
Your clit is pulsing, and you whine, choked and loud, as he eases in, slowly and slowly until his hips are flushed with your own. He’s buried to the hilt, and you clech around him, cunt throbbing and pulsing.
He groans above you, “Don’t fuck you for a couple of months, and your cunt is trying to swallow me, again.”
You gasp, dizzying pleasure curling at the base of your spine, while Hiromi’s hips grind slowly and deliciously against your walls. He barely moves for a second, leaning down to you with a hot kiss, “You like being my good pet, don’t you, baby?” He hums against your lips.
You nod, pushing your hips back into him. “Why don’t you be a good girl and ride my cock? Breed yourself…fill up your belly.” A moan slips out from your mouth, and Hiromi flips you over, cock hitting all the right places, pressed deep enough, you almost feel him in your stomach.
Your knees bubble, gasping as you slowly grind on Hiromi’s cock, moving your hips in circle motions, trying to accommodate the fullness in your belly. “Feels so so g–good,” You gasp.
It takes you a second, but you clumsily lift yourself and drop down, earning a loud groan from Hiromi as if he’s been punched. He smiles, gripping your hips, as you clumsily bounce on his cock, knees burning with his drop. You feel so full and fucked out.
Constant shots of pleasure drop down your spine, and you fuck yourself on his cock as if he’s some toy, for your own pleasure. “That’s it, baby, so good for your Sir,” He moans, hands cupping, sliding to cup your breasts.
He pinches and twists them, watching the hardened peaks get darker and puffy, each flick making you clench around his cock. Heat coils around your stomach, needy noises punched out of you as you keep dropping into Hiromi’s cock. He twitches inside you, and the sudden press of a thumb on your clit makes you shudder.
“C’mon, cum on my cock,” Hiromi urges, the command falling in that deep, sultry voice until you clench around him, roughly grinding in circles, riding out your own orgasm. A deep guttural moan falls from his lips, and you can sense his balls twitching as he cums inside you.
You keep grinding, milking every drop from his cock, until you’re toppling over on his body. A shuddered gasp leaves your lips, seeing the slick, gooey silk all over your hands, some covering Hiromi’s chest.
Hiromi's throat bobs, a content sigh falling over his lips, hands sliding to your hair, “Want to hear a joke?”
“What?” You slur.
“Why don’t spiders go to school…” He pauses for a second, “because they learn everything on web.”
You groan, nuzzling your face into his chest, trying to suppress a small smile from falling. “You’re so corny. Omg, you’re literally still inside me. Never letting you fuck me again.”