Chapter 366- Spider Lady Loves His Cock

Chapter 366: Chapter 366- Spider Lady Loves His Cock

He looked at her.

He leaned down. His hand found her left breast. His fingers slid beneath the small mound, cupping the underside, lifting it slightly. The weight was soft in his palm, the flesh yielding, the nipple pressing against his thumb. He bounced it once. A small, testing motion, the kind a man makes when assessing the quality of a piece of fruit.

"But you would have to let me fuck you every time I want," he said. "Will you allow me?"

She trembled.

Her whole body. The eight legs scraping against the concrete, the silver fur standing on end, her human hands gripping his wrist. She held his hand against her breast, her fingers pressing his into the soft flesh, kneading herself with his palm.

"Yes," she whispered. "I will always. You can have me whenever you want."

Her voice cracked on ’always.’ The word carrying twenty years of isolation in four letters.

He chuckled.

He lifted her. His hands under her human arms, raising her to her feet. Her spider legs unfolded, the eight tips finding the ground, her body rising. She stood beside him, her small tits at his chest height, her dark eyes level with his collarbone.

His hand moved to her spider body.

His palm resting on the silver fur, the warmth of his skin traveling through the fine hairs. She flinched at the contact, then relaxed, her body leaning into his hand.

"Let’s meet my other wives," he said.

She trembled harder.

"Will they accept me?" Her voice was small. The voice of a woman who had been called monster by everyone she had ever met and was now walking into a room full of women who had every reason to see her as competition.

He looked at her.

"Accept?" he said. "They’re already preparing a feast."

The word ’feast’ landed on her face like a slap of confusion. Her dark eyes blinked. Her mouth opened. She didn’t have time to ask what he meant because he was already walking, his hand on her spider body, guiding her through the street, past the halved zombie, past the overturned cars, toward the dental office that had become their temporary home.

The room had changed.

The candles had been replaced by daylight filtering through the silk-covered windows. The sleeping bags were folded and stacked. The metal shelf had been cleared. The spider webs on the walls, the protective netting that had made him ask if she planned to eat them, had been partially cleared from the center of the room, leaving the perimeter strands intact.

The bed occupied the middle.

It was not the same bed. It was larger. A mattress that had been dragged from somewhere, an apartment above the dental office or a furniture store nearby, covered in furs and blankets. The four women had arranged themselves on it with the deliberate, choreographed precision of a presentation.

They were on their knees.

All four. In a line. Side by side. Their hips raised, their asses pointing toward the door. Their faces were hidden, buried in blankets and furs, their identities concealed. Their backs were arched, their spines curved, their legs spread.

They were naked.

Completely. The mother’s shift was gone. The daughter’s dress was gone. The succubus’s loose shirt was gone. Soha’s thin covering was gone. Four bare asses in a row, four pairs of spread thighs, four pussies visible between the cheeks.

The pussies were shaved.

All four. The hair that had been there, the dark curls of the mother, the thin growth of the daughter, the blonde of the succubus, the trimmed dark of Soha, all of it removed. The skin was smooth, the lips bare, the entrances pink and swollen and glistening with what could only be described as preparation.

The spider woman stopped in the doorway.

Her dark eyes went wide. Her eight legs froze. Her human mouth opened, closed, opened again.

"Recognize who is who," she whispered.

It was not a question. It was a statement of overwhelmed disbelief. She was looking at four anonymous asses, four shaved pussies, four women who had arranged themselves like items on a menu, and her brain was refusing to process the information.

He chuckled.

He pulled her forward by the hand, guiding her to the side of the bed. He looked at the line. Four asses. Left to right. The first was enormous, the cheeks thick and wide, the skin dark, the pussy between them full and swollen, the lips puffy. The second was small, the cheeks tight and young, the skin lighter, the pussy thin and narrow, the lips barely parted. The third was pale, the cheeks heavy and round, the skin white, the pussy blonde-stubble-free and pink, the lips elongated. The fourth was dark, the cheeks full but not as wide as the first, the pussy swollen and dark, the skin around it stretched by pregnancy.

He held the spider woman’s hand.

"Can you recognize who is who?" he asked.

She trembled.

"This is embarrassing," she whispered. Her face was crimson, her silver-white hair falling over her eyes, her free hand covering her mouth.

He chuckled.

He moved behind the line. His hand went to the first ass. The enormous one. His palm sliding down the cheek, his fingers finding the crack, sliding through, reaching the swollen, shaved pussy. He rubbed. His fingers pressing the lips, the pad of his middle finger circling the entrance, the heat of her arousal coating his skin.

"Can you guess whose pussy it is?" he said.

The spider woman stared. Her dark eyes moved from his hand to the ass to the pussy. The color was rich, almond-brown, the lips full, the entrance leaking thin, clear fluid.

"I don’t know," she whispered. She covered her face with both hands. Her spider legs shuffled.

He stroked his cock.

It was hardening. The sight of four women presenting in a line, their asses raised, their pussies shaved and swollen and waiting, was enough to bring the twelve inches back to full attention. The shaft thickened in his hand, the head flushing, the veins engorging.

He placed the cock head against the first pussy.

He pushed.

The woman flinched. Her hips jerked forward, a small, involuntary motion, her ass clenching. The head pressed between the swollen lips, parting them, the heat of her cunt gripping the crown.

"Even being a mother of such a daughter," he said, his voice warm, conversational, "your pussy is still as tight as ever."

He slammed.

PAAH

"AAAAANGH"

The moan was loud, full-bodied, the sound torn from the blanket where her face was buried. The twelve inches drove into her in one stroke, the walls stretching, the wet heat gripping his shaft. His thumb found her anus at the same moment, pressing into the tight ring, pushing through.

"AAANGH HNNNGH"

The double penetration of her pussy and her ass made her body convulse. Her enormous ass rippled against his hips, the dark flesh jiggling from the impact. Her back arched, her spine curving, her face lifting from the blanket just enough to reveal the side of her face.

The mother.

The spider woman saw the dark skin, the familiar jaw, the tear-streaked cheek.