A Succubus For Christmas (14 page)

Arachne turned her back, bent down and splayed her legs wide. Gordon was given the briefest glimpse of her snatch before she span back round and continued her teasing dance.

Gordon's cock was burning with red-hot desire. He longed to quench its fire in the soft and inviting sheath of her vagina. He ached for any kind of sensation. The strands of silk brushing against him tickled his manhood, but they weren't enough. He wanted to grip his cock with his hands and bring it to the release his body craved. The constricting silk wouldn't even allow him that. Instead he swayed helplessly as Arachne danced before him.

She stopped and stood next to him, a black gloved hand resting on her slinky hips.

“Oh poor fly,” she said. “Does the desire hurt?”

She reached through the silk–it didn't impede her in any way–and ran a finger down Gordon's side. He shivered at her touch, hungry for more.

“Poor, poor little fly. So eager for release and no way to achieve it.”

Her finger curved across his stomach, heading lower, heading towards where his erection eagerly awaited. His cock twitched in anticipation, straining against its bonds as her finger crept closer and closer. Closer, closer, only to veer away at the last moment to leave his cock aching, craving the contact denied it.

She put her arms around him and pressed her body against him, squashing her soft breasts against his side. She blew in his ear and rubbed her body against his. Her hands roamed across his silk-wrapped flesh. She stroked her palm up his erection. The touch sent seismic tremors of pleasure through Gordon's body.

“Do you love me?” Arachne whispered in his ear.

“Yes,” Gordon croaked back.

Her hand roamed down between his legs. Her fingers tickled his balls with feather-light caresses. She moved back to his cock and played the sticky strands of silk as if they were the strings of a virtuoso's instrument, strumming notes of pleasure into his body. The hand returned to his cock, encircled it. Gordon felt the smooth latex of her glove rubbing against his glans.

“Love me above all others?” Arachne breathed in his ear. Her hand stroked up and down faster and faster, taking Gordon right to the edge and beyond.

“Yes!” he howled as the orgasm finally overtook him.

* * * *

Gordon jerked awake.

His cock was pushing against the elastic of his boxer shorts and throbbing. He was going to come. He tried to hold it back, but it was already too late. He felt a spreading wetness as he ejaculated. He looked down and watched the dark patch slowly grow on the front of his underwear.

A wet dream. How embarrassing.

He looked around for June, blushing at the thought of her seeing this. She wasn't on her side of the bed, or even in the room at all. Bright sunlight was cutting in through the cracks in the curtains.

Cursing his laziness, Gordon stumbled into the bathroom and cleaned himself off. He had a busy day ahead of him. He didn't want to degenerate into one of those out of work bums that spent their whole lives on the sofa in front of the TV.

June had left a note for him on the fridge downstairs.

'Can you pop over to the supermarket later.
I'm cooking chilli tonight and we're out of rice.

XXX.'

She was so good to him, Gordon thought. He'd offered to help around the house, do the housework, cook some meals, that kind of thing. She wouldn't have any of it.

“Don't take it too badly dear, but I've tasted some of the things you've cooked,” she'd joked.

That was fine with Gordon; she was a far better cook than him. It made him feel a little inadequate though, like a spare part no-one had a use for.

You need to get back in work, he thought to himself.

That was easier said than done. An hour of fruitless browsing later and Gordon was thoroughly demoralised. The jobs market was dire. To make it worse the jobs he did see looked to have been posted by people with very little idea of what IT was. So many of the descriptions were asking for experience in more technologies and languages than any sensible company would ever need, and then attaching a salary that would have insulted a shop assistant. He even found an advert asking for five years experience with the latest Microsoft operating system even though it had only hit the market a year and a half ago.

Gordon had taken this career path because he wanted to use his brain. He'd have been better off taking lessons in advanced bullshitting.

Depressed, he'd gone to the news sites for a break, then the game sites, and then finally back to Arachne's Web.

She was stunning. He studied a picture of her standing in front of a plain stone wall in another revealing costume. Her outfit consisted of nothing but black elastic webs covering her body in a series of complicated spirals. It looked like a costume for an X-rated superheroine. Maybe that was the theme. She posed with her arms above her head, her wrists touching and her hands pointing left and right in a defiant comic book stance.

“Hi dear,” she said. “Did you get the rice? We've got a surprise guest for dinner tonight. You'll never guess who I bumped into at lunch.”

Surprise guest?

Rice!

Gordon looked at the clock and was horrified. Four o'clock! Where had the day gone? He still needed to go to the supermarket. He exchanged pleasantries with his wife before hanging up and rushing out to the car.

* * * *

June returned from work with Carol and a woman Gordon didn't recognise. This must be the surprise guest. She was attractive and shared some similarities with his wife. They both had the same honey-blonde hair, although the visitor had allowed hers to grow out a little. They also had similar slim figures, but the new girl was maybe a few inches taller.

“Look who I bumped into over lunch,” June said, smiling enthusiastically.

She didn't introduce the other woman. Gordon wondered if that meant he was supposed to recognise her from somewhere. The other girl recognised him and looked a little hurt and disappointed when she didn't see any recognition back from him.

“I don't think he remembers who I am,” the woman said, turning to June with a smile.

“Gordon, this is Jane, Jane Kenney from university. Remember. The girl you couldn't walk behind without your tongue hanging down around your ankles,” June said.

“Oh,” Gordon said.

Still nothing. Surely her name should have provoked some emotion. It sounded familiar, but only in the vague sense of someone he might have known a long time ago.

“Oh?” his wife laughed. “I think we've just woken someone up from a nap on the sofa. His mind's still dozing. I hope you remembered to get that rice.”

It was odd, Gordon thought as they sat down together to eat his wife's delicious chilli. He could remember university, he could remember the name Jane, but he couldn't remember her.

“Jane's over from England,” June explained. “Her company is about to close their UK offices so she's over here to see if she'd be happy relocating to the States.”

“You made the right decision to leave Britain,” Jane said. “It's crap there now. Everything's so expensive.”

“I had a strong incentive to leave,” Gordon said, sharing a smile with his wife.

“The quiet ones always end up being the best catches. I had to go through a lot of useless dicks before I learnt that one,” Jane laughed.

“I can't promise anything,” Jane said, “but when the economy picks up the company will need to replace the IT staff that aren't willing to relocate. I can put in a good word for you.”

That was some good news at least, Gordon thought.

He still couldn't remember her. He smiled along as they spent the rest of the evening reminiscing about the old days back at Bristol University. He was hoping his memories would click back into place, but they never did. The woman left exactly as she'd arrived: a stranger Gordon had met for the first time this evening.

That name was familiar to him though. He was sure he remembered a Jane from university, and it was the name of a girl he'd fancied a lot.

Later he cast his mind back to university, roaming through old halls as he tried to remember her face. A swish of black hair came to mind.

Black hair?
But hadn't he always preferred blondes?

Yes, there she was, standing at the bar with her back to him, midnight-black hair cascading halfway down her back. This was the girl he'd seen in class, the one that caused his heart to quicken every time he glanced at her. He thought about going up to her, maybe offering to buy her a drink, but he lost courage at the last moment and chickened out.

If this was Jane then who was the girl who'd visited them this evening?

* * * *

Gordon was dreaming again.

He was sitting on a chair with his hands tied firmly behind his back. The chair stood in the centre of a plain room with thick stone walls. The walls, floor and ceiling were festooned with layer upon layer of white cobwebs.

Arachne danced before him at the far end of the room. Ornate golden candelabra threw flickering shadows over her twirling body . She wore the same spiral web bodystocking he'd seen her wearing in her pictures. It hugged the curves of her body so tightly and revealed so much of her pale white skin she might as well have been naked.

Gordon could tell this was a dream. As graceful as she seemed, there was something alien in the way she moved. Her motions had an odd jerky quality, like watching a film with every fifth frame removed. It unsettled Gordon so he tried to ignore it and instead focused on her long limber legs, the luscious swell of her ass and those lovely full breasts.

A couple of light footfalls and she stood in front of him. Her costume made it look like she was covered from head to toe in black spiderwebs. Not covered entirely; the crotch was open and Gordon caught himself staring at the hairless folds of her sex.

“Hello again, little fly,” Arachne said.

She bent down until her sumptuous red lips hovered millimetres from his own. Beyond them was the deep lush canyon of her cleavage. She placed a hand under his chin and raised his head until he was staring directly into her bright green eyes.

“Some cruel thing has tied you all up,” Arachne whispered, her other hand running across his shoulder and down his flexed arm. “I can see that's made you frustrated.”

Yes, very frustrated...ooh, Gordon thought as her hand encircled his erection and lightly stroked up and down.

He ached to free his hands. He wanted to caress the ripe fruit of her breasts, to put his arms around her and embrace her warm body. There was no give in the rope around his wrists at all. He couldn't loosen them no matter how hard he struggled. His bonds felt like they were glued to his flesh.

“Really frustrated,” Arachne said, her fingers stepping up his throbbing shaft with light touches. “What shall we do about it?”

“Fuck me,” Gordon pleaded. His cock throbbed with the need to be buried in the secret folds he saw between her legs. It craved sensation.

“Is this what you want?” Arachne asked, spreading her labia with her fingers and revealing the pink treasures behind. Her moist flesh glistened in the candlelight.

“Yes,” Gordon begged. His cock was fully erect and bright red. It ached with a dull throb.

Arachne stepped close enough for him to feel the heat radiating from her body. She straddled his body and her nipples brushed against his chest. She rubbed her groin against his erection, letting his cock run through the moist groove of her sex. It was enough to arouse him further but not enough to satisfy him.

She rubbed against him, letting his cock slip closer, closer, but not close enough to slip into her moist pussy. She stepped back, her green eyes sparkling. She reached down and inserted a finger between the fleshy folds of her sex.

“I want you too,” Arachne said. She gripped her costume and tore the webbing off her body as if it was no more substantial than the cobwebs it resembled.

Gordon didn't get much of a chance to admire the pale curves of her naked body before she straddled him again and this time guided his tormented cock up into the warm sheath of her vagina.

Gordon sighed his contentment as he felt her moist, silky smooth skin glide down his shaft. So tight. He felt her warmth pressing down all around him. She slid all the way down on him until her ass rested on his thighs. She was a tall girl; Gordon's face was level with her breasts as she sat in his lap. She didn't hesitate in pressing the soft cushions of her boobs against his face.