Tonight is the night. Tonight Christa knew she and Boris would come together as one. They would feel the most human of ecstasy. They would live the teenage dream of pre-marital sex. Tonight is the night.
Christa couldn't believe they had come this far. Boris always seemed so unobtainable. Sure her friends on the rock climbing team called him “Itsy Bitsy,” but she knew they were just jealous. They just didn't understand him like she did. He might be a senior and she a mere sophomore, but her feminine wiles had drawn him into her web.
And Boris. She absolutely loved him. She loved how he was so open about his past. His mother, Charlotte, had engaged in a similar forbidden romance. It even spawned his half-brother, Peter. While Charlotte loved Peter, she lived with that regret for the rest of her life. She never wanted Boris to endure what she had gone through.
But that happened in the past. Boris and Charlotte had drifted apart, and Boris was now his own man, free to be with anyone he wanted. And he wanted to be with Christa.
In Christa's bedroom, Boris performed all the right moves. Christa looked at him as he moved a tuft of raven hair from his face. He worked his hands into her lower back. Pressing, tenderizing, making her feel like a true woman. He moved down and tickled her toes. His movements so deft, he touched all of her toes simultaneously. Each one receiving a playful poke. She stared back, and it was almost as if he had eyes in the back of his head—he knew the moment was now.
He slithered up next to her ear and started giving a tender kiss upon her neck. As the kiss elongated, a pleasureful pain coursed through Christa. This is what all the girl talk had focused on, and now she lived it. She gasped. Might this be her first hickey?
It would be, but it would also be her last. As the pain intensified, suddenly it all made sense. His reluctance to come to this moment. The beautiful sweater he knitted her. His overwhelming fear of water spouts. How he had rooted at the start of “Arachnophobia” and cried at the end. How one of their dates had once been sucking the blood from a still-flapping cicada. Charlotte's Web. The forbidden love. Peter freaking Parker. The eight legs. Boris wasn't the misunderstood genius she had thought. Oh no, he was a spider! A black widow spider at that!
With the mating ritual complete, Boris skittered away from Christa. He mounted her wall where he proceeded to create an intricate web and place his egg sack. That's right, not only was he a spider, he was a female spider... a female lesbian spider!
Bet you didn't see that final twist coming.
|I hated putting in this picture as much as you hate seeing it.|
And that twist is what will make “Web of Love: An Erotic Investigation into Spider-Human Love” my first million seller. For you see, the spider erotica genre is a virtually untapped market. Just think, before “Twilight,” vampires were just viewed as jerks. Always sucking and tormenting Wesley Snipes—but now the IRS accomplishes that, not some mystical deity.
When “Twilight” hit, suddenly vampires are cool and sparkly and amazing. Sure, I may hate spiders with every fiber of my being, but I figure if Mormons can get over their vampire prejudice to make oodles of money, then so can I.
So publishers, if you are out there, feel free to hop on the “Web of Love” train. I actually already have an unauthorized sequel planned out. I'll release “Spider Shocker: Four in the Pink, Two in the stink” anonymously, so I can be indignant in the press and claim “I am indignant! That is the most disturbing mental image I've ever seen!... please read my latest novel, 'Ten Legs, One Cup.'” Which will further increase my publicity.
Oh, and for anyone who arrived here by googling “Talking Female Lesbian Spider,” you frighten me a great amount, but welcome to the blog! Enjoy!