Night on a Web

Day 5

You're awakened by Poet's snoring, which is loud enough to make his entire body rumble. The pleasant warmth of his breath hits your neck. All his fuzzy arms wrap around you like a soft blanket.

The dawn sunlight shines through the silk-covered window and fills the room. As you lie on the web, watching the shadows on the wall, you think about how funny your situation is.

If you told the you from a few days ago that she'd befriend a monster, she wouldn't believe you. If you told her she'd sleep with said monster, she'd think you're bullshitting.

Life is weird, sometimes.

You nudge your partner awake.

"Sleep well?" you ask with a grin. His response is a tired chirp.

"Last night was great."

You place a soft kiss on his cheek. His body warms up as he shuffles underneath your smooch. He chirps in embarrassment but pets your cheek, so he must appreciate it.

Poet rises, carrying you with him. He places you beside him and picks up the notepad lying on the ground.

"Thank you for your company."

You laugh at how formal he is, even after last night.

"I'd like to return the favor, if you don't mind."

You kneel in front of him. He tilts his head in confusion, but you soon make your intentions clear as daylight.

You never noticed before, but there's a slit on his crotch where his prick should be. Licking it, you urge the beast out of its cave. His member soon pokes out of its hiding place; up close you can see ridges on the sides. Keeping it up, your tongue darts around the tip with the grace of a figure skater. Your mouth is on it in no time, bobbing up and down, taking in as much as you can.

Judging from his grunts and hisses, Poet's enjoying your work. He grabs your ass; his hands are a surprise, but you don't let them distract you. As he pets your hair, you feel proud of how well you're treating him.

Poet roars, letting loose in your mouth, coating it with his cum. He's spent, panting like he was last night.

After he composes himself, he hastily scribbles on his notepad.

"Wow."

You smirk.

You pick up your clothes and get dressed, proud of yourself. So... what now? You can't exactly cook him breakfast; you don't even know what he eats.

Poet pats your shoulder, but his eyes look elsewhere. There he goes again. He holds the notepad to your face, as if trying to hide behind it.

"Would you like to live with me?"

A sudden question, but not one you're against.

"I'd love to."

Two months later...

The house looks nothing like it used to. The holes on the roof have been patched up, the walls repainted, and the webs cleaned up... Mostly. It was grueling work making the house presentable, but you and Poet did it. There's even electricity and water! (It was difficult hiding Poet away from the workers.)

Most of the furniture has been replaced too, so now you both have comfortable spots to read your books. (You kept the chaise lounge though. It fared better than most of the furniture.) You never could have seen the abandoned, forgotten house you once knew becoming a home again.

Your days living with Poet are blissful. You help him garden, discuss books with him, and now you can watch TV together. And of course, there's the fun you two have at night. You weren't sure of letting go of your old life at first, but now you couldn't be happier.

You just wonder how you're going to invite your parents over to your new home.