In PDF form
https://www.dropbox.com/s/6n4f77xa5052wsq/Lasciate%20Ogne%20Speranza.pdfAnd that's when you notice it: a generous tent lifts the fabric of her already short dress, exposing more
of her thighs than is probably decent. You spend a few moments transfixed by the tantalizing sight of
her soft grey skin before it really hits you. That is a ****. A big old ****ing ****. The sexy spidery
lady of your affections is sporting one hell of a meaty man sausage and from the looks of it it puts your
own to shame.
Aranea catches you staring and you're snapped out of your reverie by her playful giggle; she's put the
issue of Spider Island aside and has turned to look at you. "Like something you see?" she inquires, a
coquettish smile playing across her face. Her tongue darts out as if on cue to wet the painted blue skin
of her lips, leaving them glistening in the surreality of the dream light.
Blood rushes to both your face and your groin, and you're sure your embarrassed arousal would be
evident plain as day even if she didn't have some sort of strange psychic business going on? At any
rate, your adept response is to stammer unintelligibly, trying to look anywhere but at her barely
concealed throbbing bone and failing pitifully in the process.
"Oh, it's quite all right," she reassures, taking a short step towards you; you reflexively take one back,
but when the edge of your mattress hits the back of your legs, you've got nowhere to run. "It can be a
bit much to take in, I understand! But I'm sure once the two of you get to know each other, you'll be the
best of friends."
"W-what are you implying?" you choke out, although you've already got a good picture of the answer.
You try to back up again as she inches steadily forward, but this time all you can do is fall backwards
onto the bed, leaving yourself in an even more vulnerable position.
"I know you're attracted to me, Jake, and I must admit there's something I find peculiarly alluring about
you, as well," she says, now looming over you at the foot of your bed, the massive impression of her
throbbing member more imposing than ever. "There's no reason for you to be ashamed or afraid. Need
we dance about our feelings? Would you not rather seize this opportunity and make the most of our
time together?"
When your only response is to stare back at her in slack-jawed awe, she raises a brow. "Well, if you're
not going to protest..."
Your heart hammers in your chest a mile a minute as her slim and dainty hands move to the hemline of
her dress. She grips the cloth gingerly between the tips of her fingers and slowly, slowly lifts, making a
show of it; you couldn't look away even if you wanted to, which you kind of really don't, wow when
did your dick get so hard.
Then her dress slips over the top of the head, and you can see it in all of its tumescent glory; it looks
much like yours, apart from the fact it's grey and flushed blue around the head, and also sort of huge.
You're reasonably confident that it's something silly like exactly eight inches long, and even more
absurdly thick. She's hung more like a horse than a spider but you suppose you don't really know what
a spider's dick looks like in the first place so that's kind of a silly comparison to make. Do spiders even
have dicks?
"No," a voice so generously supplies. "Male spiders coat a pair of appendages called the pedipalps in
their sperm and transfer it directly into the female's epigyne. No phallus is necessary for copulation."
****! Your head immediately snaps around to look for the source, but the bodily apparition of your
subconscious dream buddy is nowhere to be found. "Wow, thanks, that's really pertinent to my current
situation! I'm glad you've decided to be so ****ing helpful!!"
You can practically hear his disembodied voice shrug. "You're the one thinking about spider dicks.
Take responsibility for your own nonsensical mental tangents."
When you turn back around, you find Aranea staring at you quizzically, her head ****ed to the side.
"Is... something the matter?"
You decide to stop thinking about spider dicks.
"O-oh, no, not at all! I was just, ah, well, okay it doesn't really matter what I was — let's leave that
topic, wow you have a ****. I wasn't really expecting — not that there's like a problem — I mean —
with your ****, I guess as far as ****es go it's pretty nice but — oh god."
She seems particularly amused by your rambling failure at social interaction and laughs, smiling gently.
"Yes, I have what you would call a ****," she says, looking down fondly at her own member. She
takes it into one of her hands, letting the hem of her dress drape hiked up around the base, and gives it
an idle stroke. "Why don't you come and say hello?"
"Um — what?"
There's something far more devilish to her smile when she lifts her free hand and beckons you towards
her with her finger. "Come here."
You hesitate for a while, but eventually your curiosity gets the best of you and you sit up, crawling
forward to kneel in front of Aranea at the edge of the bed. You can't even begin to process what the
**** is happening; even as the not-quite-reality of your dream suitor's veiny blue dick stares you
straight in the face, you're inclined to utter disbelief. You close your eyes so tightly it hurts, but when
you open them again, you find the spidery alien girl and her monster **** still stood before you.
You take a deep breath. "What am I... supposed to, um —"
"Why don't you just start off by touching it?"
"Touching it?" you ask, as if the idea were an insurmountable impossibility.
"Go ahead, it's all right."
Tentatively and very nervously, you extend a trembling hand; when your palm brushes against the shaft
you jump and recoil, eyes wide. "Oh god what am I doing," you sputter.
"Relax, Jake," Aranea reassures you, laughing softly. "It isn't as if it's going to burst. Well, not yet,
anyway."
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you reach out again. This time, when your hand
makes contact with her dick, you apprehensively wrap your fingers around it; it's too thick for you to
get your hand all the way around, a fact that makes any further proceedings supremely dubious. You
can feel the blood and heat pulse beneath your fingers as you experimentally squeeze — the shaft is
firm yet soft and gives beneath your hand, eliciting a small pleasured sigh from the alien girl.
Encouraged, you begin to slowly stroke up and down her length, looking up to her for approval.
"You're doing a fine job, Jake," she says with a smile. "Why don't you try with both hands?"
Confident, you curl your other hand around her dick and steadily work it in time. As liquid begins to
bead at the tip, you run your thumb over her slit and smear it around the glans, tracking wet blue trails
over her skin; you're salivating at the sight of it, but you're not sure whether you could even handle
putting that thing in your mouth.
When she speaks again, it's as if she's read your mind. Or maybe your brazen ****lust is just really
****ing obvious. "It's all right if you want to," she says. "Go ahead, have a taste."
"O-okay," you breathe, before leaning forward to softly press your lips against the head of her ****.
The taste takes you by surprise; it's almost sweet, like blueberries. You drag the tip of your tongue over
her frenulum and against her slit, catching as much of the blue liquid on your tongue as you can —
there's something intoxicating about it that leaves you light-headed and wanting for more. Aranea sighs
again and gently tangles her fingers into your hair, urging but not pushing, and you're eager to oblige.
With a deep steadying breath, you envelope the head of her **** in your mouth.
Her girth makes it near impossible for you to take much further past the head, and almost makes it
difficult to keep your teeth covered by your lips, but you stay consciously cautious so as not to hurt her.
Without much room to move, you do your best by sucking and stroking your tongue along her head
while you steadily pump the shaft with your hands.
"Are you even trying?" Dirk interjects from the ether, causing you to sputter with your lips around her
dick.
"Is something wrong?" Aranea asks as you pull back, her voice full of concern.
When you finish gagging and coughing, you grit out, "No, certainly not. I just — oh, **** it," before
returning to where you left off and resolutely resolving to not be distracted by any further provocations.
"Come on, you've got eight inches of prime extraterrestrial sausage right there and you're ****in' letting
it it go to waste."
Sorry, I don't have your huge ****ing mouth, you nagging incorporeal twat, you think back
venomously. Nevertheless, you make the effort to take her **** deeper into your mouth, but it proves
to be simply too large. You'd have to dislocate your jaw to go any further; you decide you do not want
to attempt to dislocate your jaw, even if it is your dream jaw.
"You could, if you wanted to," he chides. "Where's your imagination, English?"
For Heaven's sake, I'm trying, okay?? Go away!
"Nah."
Go away!!!
"I'm cool where I'm at."
**** you!
"With skills like that, I'll pass, but thanks for the offer."
I hate you so much.
"At least remember to cup the balls, dude."
"Jake, are you okay?" Aranea interjects. "You... you look like you're in pain."
You pull back again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand when a bit of mixed saliva and pre
dribble down your chin. "I'm sorry if I'm not any good at this," you blurt out. "It's my first time, and
you're so big and I can't —"
"I understand, Jake, really," she interrupts, cutting off your babbling. "There's no need to feel selfconscious;
you've been doing wonderfully, and I mean that earnestly!"
Hearing it from her makes you feel a little better. "Really?"
"Really!" Aranea's smile is genuine and warm. "Although..." she starts, touching her fingers to her chin
contemplatively.
Your stomach drops. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, I was just thinking — if fitting me in your mouth is troublesome, perhaps some other part of your
body may be more accommodating?"
"You mean... you want to — in my —"
"Mhmm."
"I — what — Jane Austen's dusty butthole, Aranea, I don't know if I'm ready for something like that!!"
You think about it. You look straight at her ****, monolithic and glistening with your saliva, and try to
imagine that thing up your ass. It's a tempting prospect, and you can't say the thought of it doesn't
titillate you, but realistically speaking it is just way too ****ing big. This isn't one of your Japanese
animes. There is no way that monster is going to fit into any of your holes, no way, no how.
"Well, how about we just give it a little go, and if you don't like it, we can stop?"
You... suppose that isn't such a terrible idea. After a moment of worrying your lip in contemplation,
you give a tentative nod, and pull away to scoot further back up the bed. She crawls on after you, her
stupendous **** hanging pendulously between her thighs, until she's settled over your nervously
reclined body, her face inches from yours. Your heartbeat quickens as she removes her glasses and then
yours, setting them gently aside; her face resolves into a blur in your unaided vision.
She kisses you gently, an almost tentative thing at first, pressing her soft lips closed against your own.
You receptively part your mouth and she takes the lead, sucking at your lower lip, grazing her teeth
against it just lightly enough to elicit a moan deep from your throat but not draw blood, probing inside
with her tongue. You parrot her movements, not nearly as deftly as she, but it's an effort all the same;
she laughs softly when your teeth clack together (quite painfully for you), but doesn't complain. She
deepens the kiss, moving against you with a building fervor that you struggle to keep up with.
You're left breathless when she breaks away, but it's not long before she descends on your skin again.
She kisses your jaw, licks and sucks at your throat, runs her hands up under your shirt and over your
hardened nipples, grinds her enormous **** against the much more modest straining tent in your
pants; she's set your entire body on fire with her touch. You fist your own hand in her hair, holding on
for dear life.
She eventually manages to get your jacket off your shoulders and shirt over your head before she's
upon you again, all moist lips and grazing teeth in every place that makes you writhe. She drags her
tongue against your nipple, flicks it, encircles it, sucks it into her mouth when you whine.
"Oh god," you gasp out. "Aranea —"
The girl just laughs as she makes her way down your body, kissing a trail to your navel and then the
The girl just laughs as she makes her way down your body, kissing a trail to your navel and then the
waistband of your pants and your eyes are blown wide as you stare at her in terrified anticipation and
then her fingers are at the button of your fly and then she's pulling them down and then your **** slaps
her in the face.
You sit up abruptly, contrite pouring disjointedly from your lips. "****! I'm sorry, oh god I didn't mean
to, are you okay, I shouldn't have — that was so rude — of my dick — I mean — Uh —"
"Jake, calm down, it's all right! If I didn't want your **** in my face, I wouldn't be down here."
"Oh. ... Right."
She rolls her eyes and pushes you back down onto the bed.
Settled back between your legs, she firmly takes your **** into her hand and rubs it against her cheek;
her skin is so unbelievably soft and warm and she's so pretty and blue and you can't believe this is
happening and then she drags her tongue up along your shaft until your whole body is shuddering.
"Shame about my teeth," the alien remarks with a playful smile, but really, you're more than ****ing
content with what she's doing. She pumps your shaft with her fist as she sucks at the head of your ****,
runs her tongue full and slow over the glans, presses her palm against your balls and lifts and gently
rubs, looks up at you with those empty dead eyes and whoops you just bust your nut all up in her face.
"Um. Oops," you say, unable to articulate much coherent remorse in the pulsing haze of your orgasm.
She's surprised at first as the sticky ropes of cum erupt over her face, reflexively flinching and shutting
her eyes tight, but she recovers quickly and rides you out with hasty motions of her fist. She catches
what she can on her tongue, licking your **** and her own lips clean.
You lay back as your breathing steadies. "Wow, that was... wow."
Aranea smiles, straddling your thighs as she swipes her hand across her face, wiping off the offending
globs of cum. You watch as sucks her fingers into her mouth, savoring your taste. Equally prominent is
her still erect dick, standing proud between her legs. She notices you notice, winks, and then shifts off
you to pull her dress over her head. "I believe it's my turn."
You're struck with a bit of post-orgasmic rationality, and the idea suddenly seems substantially less
appealing without your second brain aching for release. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea, I don't
think it will —"
"Oh, Jake, just tryyyyyyyy it. It isn't as if it'll kill you!"
You bite your lip. You're really not sure about the whole thing, but she did just let you jizz all over her
face, so, well... **** it. You roll over onto your stomach. "Um. Okay. I'll do it, I guess. Just... be
careful."
"Of course," she says, climbing into position above you. Her humongous honker slaps heavily against
your bare ass. "This will only hurt a bit, I promise."
"Okay. Okay, I'm... I'm ready."
You tightly shut your eyes and brace yourself as she spreads your legs and presses the head of her ****
against your entrance. When she pushes inside, your fears are readily confirmed; you're nowhere near
prepared for this! The pain of your ass stretching well past its limit leads into an agonizing burning
friction as she thrusts forward too dry and too soon. When you try to pull away, the alien girl catches
you by the hips and digs her nails into your flesh so hard you'd be sure it'd mark, were this not just a
dream...