Said the Fly to the Spider

Come closer, said the Spider to the Fly...and the Fly, though smart enough to be suspicious of the Spider's intent, nonetheless complied, and thus became firmly ensnared in the epicenter of an expertly-woven web. But not all spiders are dangerous, and I am learning there are worse things than being wrapped in silk...

I can't stop thinking about you. From the moment you caught my attention, you have been on my mind, both the focus of deliberate pondering and also a distracting subplot, a constant aroma of awareness in the air of my subconscious. And in the short time since we started keeping company, I have become preoccupied with the intensity of my response to those dark eyes and warm hands.

My body seems to be in thrall to you; when you touch any part of me in any way, it sends tingles through my nerve endings, making my clit begin to swell and my juices start to flow. Even the lightest, most casual touch from you makes me want to drop to my knees and beg you to fuck me.

My mind is equally enamored. Yours is a peculiar intellect, one that challenges me and offers unique perspective, stimulation and humor. This facet of you is as rare and surprising as it is unbelievably sexy, and some of the things you say to me make me want to sink to my knees and offer myself to you in sexual servitude.

My response to you is akin to addiction; I can't get enough of you, and when we are apart I am gripped by an agony of yearning. And when we are together again, the complex blend of soothing relief, joy, tenderness and mind-scrambling lust is palpable and intoxicating.

It is highly atypical for me to indulge in such sappy, sentimental behavior, and I can't help but be abashedly amused at the romantic girlishness you pull from my psyche like a chelative magnet. You have altered the hue of my mental landscape, as instantly and discernibly as exchanging an ordinary light bulb for a colored bulb; the view of my reality remains the same, only accentuated by a pleasant jewel-toned glow that replaces mundane with beautiful.

I think about how breathtakingly delicious you are when you are sprawled in my bed, impatient for me to join you, enticing me to hurry up and finish whatever womanly task I am preoccupied with. You slowly work your cock, your eyes unflinchingly on me, holding my gaze with a meaningful intensity that penetrates my soul.

The combination of those dark eyes that probe into my core, and the urgent yet relaxed rhythm of your hand as you squeeze and stroke, is hypnotic. It is the most devastatingly sexy thing I have ever seen, and I am filled with incredulous gratitude for my good fortune. That cock is mine. You are mine.

You play my body as though it is an instrument of your own design. Your mouth is relentless, devouring me thoroughly and skillfully, refusing to let go even when I cum so hard I am seeing stars. And those eyes stay locked on mine the entire time, intent and just a little bit challenging, as though you are daring me to deny that I belong to you and only you.

At first you seemed offended, or at the very least alarmed, by some of my proclivities. But in testing the waters and pushing the boundaries a bit, I have realized (much to my relief) that your reaction was a reflex response to the restrictions put in place by the women who came before me.

The majority of those things to which your initial response was "I would never..." you now perform with ease and obvious enjoyment, and without me even having to ask. If you wake up early in the morning with a hard cock in need of attention, you no longer hesitate to pull down my pajama pants and slide it in me without preamble. The awareness of my pussy being stretched and filled has become my new alarm clock, and it is a much more decadent way to start the day.

Initially, you were so skittish about letting me suck your cock, protesting that I didn't have to do it, never letting me deep throat you because you didn't want to make me gag. But my persistence in taking a mouthful of you every chance I got gradually paid off, and your resolve weakened as you realized how much I truly enjoy it.

Now you watch me with expectation when I slide my tongue around your head and pull you into my mouth. It seems you have discovered just how much you enjoy it, now that you are at liberty to do so. Rather than pulling away from me, you grip my head in your hands and fuck my face without regard to anything but your pleasure. And I love every minute of it, especially the look on your face when you explode and the way your body shakes when I keep slurping on you to ensure I have swallowed every last drop of your cum.

You normally guard your personal space like a secret, yet you welcome my touch and seek physical closeness as if by reflex. My hands seem to seek out contact with you instinctively, and to be able to touch such a beautiful body as I please, knowing that few others ever get to even brush against that gorgeous skin, is a heady thrill.

You are not without guile, and are most certainly aware that the weapons you wield are diabolical, that they render me utterly, ecstatically defenseless. Your knowing smirk broadcasts your motive as clearly as your voice does when you tell me you love me.

I suspect you might just be a strategic genius. I have watched you admirably spin threads of patience, affection, acceptance, respect, desire and nearly obscene generosity, the Textbook Royal Treatment. I have observed those threads, belligerently weaving themselves into a tapestry of deep purple; lustrous and velvety, both soothing and stimulating, the tapestry is a bold and blatant symbol of everything I have eschewed.

And I have nonetheless acquiesced, watching myself as though in slow motion, as I succumb to the hypnotic allure of all that smooth, warm purple. I have wrapped myself in the tapestry like a blanket, too content and sated to worry about the threads that are still weaving this pattern of antithesis around me. And so it would seem you have me exactly where you wanted me all along.

Nicely played, said the Fly to the Spider...but the Fly was smiling with satisfaction as she said it.