{\rtf1\ansi\ansicpg1252\deff0\deflang1033{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil\fcharset0 Verdana;}{\f1\froman\fcharset0 Times New Roman;}{\f2\fswiss\fcharset0 Arial;}}
\viewkind4\uc1\pard\sb100\sa100\f0\fs20 A dead brown leaf lies on a dusty old road\line Tall green stalks of grass grow out of shallow wagon ruts\line The road is old, deserted\line Once, long ago it was well traveled, well known\line Now it is old and forgotten\line Once carts and carriages bustled hastily up and down its length\line Men in wide brimmed hats, nodding to one another silently in passing\line Women fanning themselves with their sun hats\line Children playing restlessly amongst themselves in the backs of wagons\line Wagons with canvas bonnets on them bouncing along the road \line An old dog looking outside at the bright day, tongue lolling out\line Once this road was well traveled, and often\line Now it is old and almost entirely forgotten\line A few still remember it\line Those who do don't speak of it\line Or travel it\line\line The old road stretches into the distance\line Long and narrow, north to south\line Near the north end, about a mile before it ends in a rambling tangle\line Weeds and hungry overgrowth\line It is no longer recognizable as a path\line Much less a road\line The road dwindles into the shrubbery and grass\line The wagon ruts seem to crawl out of the greenery\line And onto the chalky surface of the roadbed\line\line Near the north end here lies a corpse\line\line Under the canopy of a long stand of oaks\line A ragged cloak flaps in an idle breeze\line A beetle crawls busily over a pile of bones\line Bleaching white in the sun\line Dull metal gleaming through a veil of dust and dirt\line Tall boots, high and heavy cover dry bones and shriveled flesh\line Armor gone rusty with blood and age lies in the road, covering the old dry corpse\line A helmet of crude metal rests heavily over an oddly gaping skull\line It seems to scream\line Under the crook of the chin, from its bony jutting peak\line Down to the neck, bare white showing through thin skin in places\line There is a spiderweb\line Bare bones gleam through the hollow armor\line Shining like brushed chrome in the sun is the broad plate of the chest armor\line Intricate scrollwork barely visible through the grime and filth\line Horses and a chariot, men with swords held high\line And, almost invisible to the eye, in the harsh glare of the sun\line A dark red smear across the chest plate\line Crudely slashed across its width\line " rosebud "\line\line At night\line Along this dusty old road\line You can hear some loathsome beast\line Stomping through the woods\line Along the road\line Breathing ragged and heavy\line Stomping and tromping its way through the underbrush\line A large, vicious rogue beast\line Bright red eyes\line Jagged, cracked hooves\line Foam frothing at the mouth\line An old bit in its teeth\line Black leather saddle along its back\line Mane tangled and thick with filth\line Sunlight burns its skin\line By day it hides under the trees along the road\line By night it eats\line Anything, everything, plant, animal\line Man\line On its neck are two scars\line\line In one of the old trees above\line The larger limbs are worn\line Scarred deeply in places from some heavy sharp thing resting on them\line For hours and endless nights on end\line\line A lazy breeze picks up the old dead brown leaf\line And carries it a ways down the road\line It falls over the skeletal corpse\line And becomes tangled in the spider's web\line\line The spider is old\line His senses beginning to weaken and wane\line Still alert, though, and quick\line He is far from being feeble\line In his web is the cadaver if his last meal\line A fat cocoon of yellowing silk\line Inside a dry husk that was once a bright green grasshopper\line It was big and strong\line It thrashed and tore at the web in its throes\line As it fought in its bindings\line The old spider fell from behind\line Bit it, and with experienced ease spun it into a blanket of silk\line Waited\line The grasshopper twitched once, twice\line Then died\line Then the old spider crawled atop the grasshopper and sank his teeth into it\line And fed\line That was a day gone by now\line The old spider is still quite full\line\line But it hungers for the taste\line\line The day slowly drags by\line Drawing to a close in a slow sunset\line The sky turning pink in the setting sun, pink to red, red to blue\line Blue to black\line Stars winking in the black of the clear night\line\line The old spider spins itself a new web in the darkness\line Still full from its meal\line Moving with a slow intelligent grace\line His old blackish brown body moving like a blur in the night\line Twin triangles of red on his belly \line Pointed tip to tip\line The old black widow finishes and rests on his web\line Each slender leg is outstretched, resting gingerly on a strand of his web\line He is not hungry, but instinct compels to make him an new web\line To kill anything that becomes caught in it\line The old spider breathes silently in the clear night\line\line A breath that will travel along untold time and distance\line Through times gone past and into times long yet to come\line Some three hundred years or so to come\line A man sitting on his porch swing will take in the same faint gasp of air\line As he sits and meditates the day ahead\line\line The old spider from the past sits and waits\line Instincts alive and electric in his cold spider mind\line He waits for prey\line A cold calculative machine of death and hunger\line Fangs always eager to puncture cold insectile flesh\line The spider waits and feels the ginger breeze caress its web\line\line The man is sitting, swaying slowly in the porch swing\line He has company coming tonight\line He doesn't know quite what to think\line Or what to expect\line He tries not to expect or hope anything\line But one has to be hopeful, now doesn't he?\line And yes, the man is very hungry\line He has a lady coming over for dinner\line\line He has spent the day cleaning up\line Vacuuming, washing, dusting\line ( in some places he normally wouldn't )\line Arranging things here and there\line Readying his home for the lady's watchful eye\line For her company\line He doesn't want her to see anything out of place\line Hoping she will like what she sees\line The spider sits in its web silently\line Just under the crook of the old corpse's chin\line Almost hidden from sight\line He has chosen the place for his web well\line It is very hard to see\line Until some unlucky thing stumbles into it\line And in one horrific moment it will be aware of the web\line The old spider will fall on its prey from nowhere it seems\line\line The man sits and watches as the sun sets lazily over the horizon\line His hair is damp, he just got out of the shower a half hour or so ago\line He is dressed in black denim and a red t shirt\line Well worn and comfortable\line And he is barefoot\line His toes scrub the cool planks of the porch as he swings back and forth\line She is on her way\line All his rushing and preparing is done\line Now all he can do is wait\line And think\line She will be here in under a half hour\line He imagines he can already smell her skin\line\line The spider feels a course of air come across his web\line Something is coming his way\line Displacing the air around it\line Something has the web swaying slightly\line A breeze?\line No, too regular\line A pulsing rhythm\line Soft wings in the dark batting at the air\line\line The man walks inside, closes the door behind him\line He stands at his kitchen window and looks out\line In the distance lights appear on the horizon\line She is almost here, just a few moments away\line\line The web rocks with a sudden rush of air\line Something is coming\line Something big\line\line Lights in the driveway\line She is here\line\line The spider waits\line Legs tensed\line In the darkness a shape slowly becomes faintly visible\line\line She's getting out of her car\line He's watching her through the peephole in the door\line\line The web rocks back and forth\line\line Footsteps coming up the porch\line A light knock at the door\line\line Out of the night\line For one moment blotting out the cool, light of the moon\line A big luna moth flies into the spider's web\line\line The spider leaps and slides down the silvery web to its prey\line Small red eyes unblinking\line It tenses to leap\line It sees its pretty under the stark pale moonlight\line And the old spider stops\line\line He opens the door, and there she stands\line Auburn hair, soft and warm looking\line Deep emerald hazel eyes\line Well tanned skin\line A hint of cleavage\line He's speechless for a moment\line Then they greet and she steps inside\line\line The spider stares at the moth\line So entirely new to him\line He's never seen a creature like it before\line Broad thin wings a cool green color\line Round spots of black high on the wings\line Narrow black body, wide black eyes\line Wings arching down to delicate crescent shaped tips\line And the moth is staring at him\line The moth knows what has happened\line\line The man and the woman lock stares for a moment\line Then they hug\line\line The spider leaps and circles the moth\line A sticky trail of webbing stretching out behind him\line The moth is hopelessly caught\line He aches to bite her\line But he binds her in his webbing first\line\line The man feels her breathing heavily as they hold one another\line How long has he been waiting to see her?\line Days has it been? Months? Years?\line In his heart it has been many many years\line\line The moth feels the spider's legs clicking about it rapidly\line Engulfing it in the tacky white strands\line The moth knows what is going to happen\line It knows all too well\line\line The two break their embrace, the stare at one another again\line His mind is afire, he wants to kiss her\line To do the things they discussed on the phone\line In many sticky conversations late at night\line Things they have talked about\line Over the computer, in emails\line In the silence of the night\line He hopes she does, too\line Then she kisses him suddenly, forcefully\line And he knows she does\line\line In his bedroom is a big pillar candle\line Sitting on the left end of his bed at the foot\line On a red teakwood pedestal\line It smells of gardenias\line It has been burning all day\line In the middle, between the three small wicks burning away\line Is a puddle of liquefied wax\line\line They kiss again, lips touching gingerly at first\line Then he slides his tongue slowly into her mouth\line And she greets his\line His hands slide around her\line He pulls her closer to him\line She holds him to her tight\line He can feel the warmth of her breasts against his chest\line He pulls her away as they kiss, they walk entwined\line Backwards towards his bedroom\line He reaches behind him and shoves the door open\line And they walk into his bedroom\line He closes the door behind them with one hand\line Locks it\line They move to the bed, still kissing, holding one another tightly\line He takes his hand away from her\line Relishing in the kiss between them\line Their lips parting\line He reaches to the foot of the bed \line There lies a small wooden box\line He opens it and pulls out a slender length of black fabric\line He blindfolds her\line Hears her breath quicken\line He takes her hands and outs them behind her back\line He leans close and whispers to her quietly\line " no words "\line\line The spider continues wrapping the moth in its sticky webbing\line She is large, has broad strong wings\line She still fights\line The webbing around her like steel\line And the spider loops around her one last time\line Covering her head and binding her\line He crawls onto her back\line\line He slowly undresses her\line With each button he loosens\line He can hear a faint gasp\line He slides his hand along her body, down her back, her ass\line He grips her there firmly\line Her chest\line Fingers teasing her nipples through the silk fabric\line He pulls her blouse away\line Exposing a black lace bra\line Kneels down\line Pulls her skirt down, takes her hand and guides her out of it\line She is wearing black panties\line A tiny red bows on each hip, no less\line Very sheer\line Barely covering her sex\line With a swift motion he unsnaps her bra\line It falls to the floor\line He hooks a finger inside the crotch of her panties\line Feels the warmth beneath\line Pulls her panties down\line Tosses them aside\line Grasps her ankles\line Slides his hands up the entire length of her body\line He slowly forces her down onto the bed\line Rolls her onto her back\line Slides down\line Between her legs\line With a long, slow deep breath he begins licking her there\line Kissing her\line Sucking at her clit\line Driving his tongue inside her\line She moans lowly, a cooing sighing sound\line\line The spider can't wait any longer\line He's insane with hunger\line He bites the both at the back of her neck\line Through the thin shell of the cocoon\line She spasms slightly\line Then grows still\line He sits on her back\line Waits for the webbing to harden\line Waits for her to grow completely still\line\line The man rises up\line Pulls her up and turns her over delicately\line Forces her up onto her knees\line He stands and undresses behind her\line Throws his clothes nonchalantly in a corner with hers\line She gasps when he rubs the head of his cock against her skin\line Against the smooth warm skin of her ass\line And just inside that tiny pink spot\line Sticky and hot\line He grabs her ass with both hands and with slow deliberate force\line He slides inside her\line She reacts with a loud moan\line He begins a slow, rhythmic thrusting\line With each motion she cries lightly\line He can feel her body rocking back and forth with his own\line Hear the noises\line The small cries and stifled yelps\line With delirious friction he slides inside her\line Slowly ramming his cock home with increasing force and speed\line She cries out louder now\line Sliding inside her is like being envelopes in some warm, exotic oil\line She shudders\line He feels her growing tense\line She cries louder now\line With each thrust she bucks madly against him\line\line The moth still moves\line The spider realizes he has spent most of his venom\line The grasshopper from the night before was big, very big\line He had to expel a lot of venom to subdue it\line He hopes he has injected enough to paralyze the big moth\line To put her to sleep\line He sits and waits\line She spasms slightly every moment or so\line Then lies still for several moments\line Then feebly moves again\line She is alive still\line The spider waits\line\line The man feels her growing wet around him\line Tightening, pulling, tugging at him\line He slows his rhythm\line Pushing his cock slowly inside her now\line Slowing to a lazy motion\line He leans to one side and picks up the candle\line With a hard pistoning motion he slams his cock home\line Holds the pillar candle high above him in both hands and pours a hot stream of wax down his chest\line The wax runs down in a thick stream\line Down his stomach and onto her back\line She gasps at its warm fluid touch\line He holds the candle in one hand\line Tips it slightly and pours a bead of wax up her back\line He leans further over and pours the wax down along her arms\line It drips from her skin in tacky little trickles\line Hardening as it runs down\line Sticking to the bedsheets\line Making a fine lattice work of white wax between her skin and the bed\line She tries to move against him\line He wraps his free arm around her\line Still grinding his cock inside her\line Holding her tight\line Holding her perfectly still\line She still tries to buck and writhe under him\line He begins to ram at her harder, gradually moving faster\line The wax grows tacky under his fingers\line He smears it across her back\line A thin sheet of pearl white across her skin\line She cries, moaning and panting\line She tries to speak \line " oh fu "\line He clams a hand over her mouth\line Fucks her harder still, faster\line Ramming home with each thrust\line The wax on his chest a hardened plate now\line The skin on her back is a deepening white as the wax turns hard\line He reaches for ward and grapples a handful of her hair\line Still ramming and fucking away at that hot slick spot between them\line He reaches around her, feels hard little stalagmites of wax on her nipples\line Squeezes her breasts hard, feels wax cracking under his fingers\line He feels her draw a deep harsh breath\line A building cry escaping her mouth\line She forces her ass against his cock, not letting him withdraw it\line He pushes and grinds against her with all his strength\line He pulls her up to him by her hair\line Breathes against her neck\line Whispers to her firmly\line " come for me now "\line She stops moving for one brief second, then yells a high pitched animal scream\line The wax on her back shatters in a fine webwork\line A million fragile cracks racing along the surface of her skin\line Running in every direction\line As she cums violently and uncontrollably\line Wax falling away as her orgasm races through her in an explosive shudder\line A snowstorm of spent wax around them\line He feels his orgasm coming, pushes forward even harder\line Pulls back and withdraws himself \line And shoots a liquid jet of hot cum across her back\line\line The spider sits patiently on the moth's back\line With a sudden violent jerk the moth flexes her huge wings\line The fibers of the cocoon stretch and snap one by one\line And suddenly the cocoon splits\line The old spider falls away, the moth tearing its web in twine\line\line And the moth flies away into the night with spider webs clinging to her wings\'85\'85\'85.\line\line This story was written for and inspired by KM \endash  thank you darling \line\line The following is a short work of fiction. To any aspiring write, I suggest you read it.\line\line Once upon a time there was a man who liked to write. He loved writing like he did very few things in this world. He wrote some things that another person who liked to write read. This other person decided to take this man's material and rewrite it, and claim it as his own. The man who wrote the material in the first place found out, and he was very unhappy. He waited. And waited. And one dark cold night as the man who had stolen his ideas and fantasies sat in his kitchen and ate his dinner, the lights went out. He went to the breaker box in his hallway and opened the small metal door. Behind him a shadow lurked. The man fiddled with the switches for a moment, then turned to walk down the hall. The shadow was standing there in the hall. The man said " who the hell are you ? ". The shadow replied " The question is not who the hell am I, the question is why the hell am I. " There was a quick blurred shine of metal in the dim hallway and the man fell silently onto the floor. \line\line As the shadow melted into the night he said " Writing is a matter of patience and love. I am very patient, and god help the poor soul who takes what I love "\line\line The End \endash  get it?\f1\fs24  \par
\pard\f2\fs20\par
}