The Giant Spider

I fucking hate spiders. I know they are useful little creatures (even though they’re not always as little), but when I see one, I freeze. Dead or alive (the spider), I freeze. Back where I grew up we had poisonous spiders and I remember my parents always saying that we had to be careful. Over here there are no poisonous spiders, but seriously, I cannot shake the fear for spiders.

She tried to ignore the burning sensation in her wrist. Her orgasm is so close, but just not close enough for it to happen. Her clitoris was swollen. Swollen and ready. Her cunt begged for release. She opened her eyes and her orgasm disappeared. Her fingers slowed to almost no movement as she kept her eyes fixed on the white wall.

One night, I had this dream. A nightmare. As happens with nightmares, this one stayed with me. It’s still with me.

The black spot on the wall moved. Eight legs moved in a puzzling rhythm to take the spider higher. She watched it. Her nipples were hard. Excitement or fear? What if… what if it runs over the ceiling in fell down on her?

I was on my back on the dirty floor of a garage. I had no idea why I was there, but I had the sense that I was hiding from something. I might first have been hiding under the car, but it was moved out of the garage and left me there on the floor, looking up.

Her fingers found her wet folds and brushed over her erect clitoris. She shivered. Shivered and rubbed. Frigged and moaned. Her eyes never left the moving black spot. Her fingers never stopped moving. The spider’s legs moved. She spread hers.

Light streamed in through the open swing door, but then the door started to close. As it did, a giant web, which stretched from side to side, from front to back, started moving down towards me. And, in the web, maybe half as big as the web itself, was a spider.

Her eyes flew open. Her orgasm disappeared as the spider did. Her eyes searched the wall but found it on the ceiling. How did it get there so quickly. Why can’t her orgasm be as fast?

A giant spider.

‘I can come before it’s above me,’ she whispered and her movements changed. She rubbed harder. Quicker. Faster. More.

The web moved closer and I noticed that the threads were thick as rope. Thick and strong.

It got closer. The spider. Her orgasm. Her orgasm. The spider. Closer. Looming. Threatening. Excitement. Fear.

Something stopped the door from closing entirely. I didn’t dare look. I had my eyes fixed on the spider, waiting for it to notice me. To attack me. To devour me. It didn’t look at me. I stayed perfectly still.

Almost. Not far now.

Probably because whoever tried to close the door didn’t succeed, the door started opening again and the web moved back up to the ceiling, taking the giant spider with it.

Her heart beat faster. The spider stayed still.

Just when I thought I could escape, the door started closing again and back came the spider. Fear gripped my heart. It had noticed me.

The spider moved. Her fingers stopped. Pressed down. Moved.

Her breathing stalled.

The web moved down… and down… and down. It never touched me. The spider watched me, but never moved.

It was upon her. It was above her. She opened her mouth in a silent scream as the spider dashed across the ceiling.

I got out. How? I have no idea.

She came.

I woke up.

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© Rebel’s Notes

Wicked Wednesday

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