Spider

Charlie felt her most intimate leak of juice gently ooze down its own regular path, the path it always took when she got horny. She felt the most wonderful tingles along the short path that her daddy's fingers were travelling. She shut her eyes.

Both heard the sound of the toilet flush. Carol was on the move and a few minutes more she was downstairs. "You two are up early," she remarked.

"Beautiful day, outside," answered Ben. "Why not?"

"Shit," thought his daughter. A few minutes more and she would have have convinced her daddy that he wanted her, would take her as soon as the time was right. It could wait.

"Breakfast?" asked Carol, "More coffee? Toast?"

"More coffee, yes please, and toast would be fine," said both together. Typical Saturday breakfast would suffice before the usual greasy fry-up at lunchtime.

*

Monday came and during the office lunch break Ben searched the Internet for clues as to which spider, which large yellow striped spider, might have made its way into the house. He queried the forums and, unexpectedly, a message came straight back to him. There was a possibility of one male spider, the writer supposed from the description as Ben had given, that was harmless but its fangs could impart a painful but harmless deterrent to any predators. Ben made a note.

He was disturbed by a short tap on the frosted glass panel of his office door. Annette, his secretary, brought in some letters to be signed. She sported an enviable tan - a souvenir of her holiday in Magaluf.

"Get laid?" Ben asked, "And any tan lines?"

"The usual question is 'have I had a good holiday?'"

"And?"

"Well, yes and no," she answered, a glint in her eyes.

"Without getting arrested?" Ben pushed.

Annette just smiled. "I'm here, why worry?" She turned, briefly raising the shortest of skirts that she knew she could get away with. Tugging at the briefest of underwear she exposed one butt cheek which confirmed that there, at least, was no tan line.

"Oh come on," Ben teased, "Extra holiday at 2 minutes notice?" That was true, "How about the front."

Annette obliged by lowering the thinnest of elastic an inch or so. "That's all you're getting for now," she said. "What's up? Not getting any? Need some wank fodder?"

Ben smiled, "There's always room for extras."

Annette winked, "Then you'll have to wait until I get caught up on my typing."

Ben tried hard to concentrate hard on his managerial duties. A tour of the warehouse was due, to check on supply deadlines, materials to reorder ... and to eye up any new talent on the day shift. Then there was Becky; gorgeous pert tits, seldom wore a bra, a butt to dream about and always a good dose of sexual innuendoes.

"Hmm," she quipped as he passed her machine, "Nice 'n healthy today aren't we?" Her eyes made no attempt to lie; her gaze alighted on the bulge in his pants. "Wifey frustrating you?"

"'Morning Becky. Who was the lucky guy this weekend? One of your six regulars, or all at once?"

"Don't give me ideas," she said, trying to sneak extra looks in between checking for rejects. "If you need any help with that, you know where I am. I knock off at 6."

Ben just smiled and walked on. The first few days of sporting a perpetual bulge was, at 46, a reassuring reminder of his teens and twenties days. The fact that the semi increased its upwards stance at the mere sight of a desirable female, or even the slightest thought in his head, was becoming a problem.

*

The phone startled Charlie. She caught the call just before the answer service clicked in.

"Sorry to bother you again, Charlie, but could you do the evening shift on the tills please?"

"Sure, no problem, 2.30 be OK?"

"Great. Thanks! I owe you one."

That was the gist of the call. One of the other checkout ops had phoned in sick. The clock showed 10.30 but Charlie went back to her room. Both of her parents were at work so what the hell. The spider bite had cooled over the weekend but Charlie sensed a warmth in both her small breasts and around her pubic mound. It looked flushed, slightly swollen in the way it would be when her boyfriend was about to mount her. The tell-tale tingle was there, in her clit and a tiny trickle was lubricating her intimate parts. Not just that but her breasts felt puffed, both nipples hard and pointed.

She'd awakened with a start, the telephone's ring providing an unwelcome alarm. Her mind was in mid dream, a dream about her daddy. In the dream she'd felt him touch her breast in the same way he'd tried before, except that this time she hadn't objected. He had a very gentle touch, the touch he made when he'd tickled her side many times before. She'd never told him how the tingle from his touch went straight through to sexual HQ, her inner body chemistry reacted instantly. She never told him because, well, because it was never actually sexual. Sometimes (and Charlie was very sure her daddy never intended it), just sometimes he hit on just the spot where it felt oh, so good. He was just playing, teasing her, perhaps not knowing that just there, just that spot near her hip bone, just an inch around towards the top of where that triangle would be if she didn't shave. It wasn't, she knew, anything naughty in his mind. But there again Charlie was sure he knew she liked being tickled there. It was so damned confusing but so damned good.

Charlie was happy to help out. Any extra hours at the mini mart meant more to spend on things she liked. New shoes, her favourite fragrance, an unforgettable night out that she struggled to remember the following day. But just now she went back to bed, not to sleep but to close her eyes and recall the dream.

After the bite on Saturday morning and her daddy's attempt to sooth the itch there hadn't been a moment when she'd been able to thank him. Sunday had been spent mostly with friends. Charlie ditched the long tee shirt that she slept in. It was a comfort thing, washed so many times that the cotton fabric was thin enough to be almost transparent, but now it was just in the way. She lay naked, her young, smooth, lithe body totally free so she could touch where and how she wished. Eyes closed, her fingertips traced lightly over the small pointed hillocks which, in her mind, were apologies for breasts. Charlie never took to mind that some men actually preferred small breasts. She knew though that nature still supplied all the nerve endings that her brain translated into sexual pleasure. She shivered in delight as she lazily circled both her hard, alert nipples with moistened fingers. Then suddenly they were daddy's fingers, not her own and she felt a trickle of that intimate stream inside her work its way to the outside.

Ignoring her wetness, Charlie gently worked her fingers around her breasts, down along her tummy, then along the same path as when daddy's fingers teased her. She liked her pudenda devoid of any hair. She liked the feel of her cotton panties against skin rather than rough curly hair. Charlie licked her lips, concentrating on her own self pleasure, eyes firmly shut. Skipping the obvious target she parted her legs and allowed her fingers, no, daddy's fingers tracing lines along her inner thighs.

Charlie lay, naked as nature intended, for five, ten, fifteen minutes, tracing and retracing the route her fingers had taken. She lost track of time and she ignored the wetness between her legs until it became too much to bear. First one, then two fingers delved just inside her, hardly touching the hard aroused nub of pleasure there. But she did touch enough to send signals of pure undiluted pleasure to her brain. Her fingers thrust slowly and in her mind it was daddy there. She'd seen him, more than once, through the misted glass of the shower and assumed his ample length to be similar to many other men. She'd told herself it was just a glance but admitted later it was more than that. Was it wrong to sneak a look? Well, no, for the family had no hang ups - if you needed the loo at an inappropriate time then it was OK.

Carefully, Charlie pushed a third finger inside, her copious intimate lubrication ensured it wouldn't hurt. Carefully, gently became faster and easier as her other hand stroked across a breast then her fingers pulled at a very plump nipple. By subtly changing the angle all efforts to build herself to a peak became focussed on that one swollen button. She pinched first one then the other equally aroused nipple, surprised at the intensity that such actions increased and improved her arousal. Convinced that the thoughts and inner visions of her daddy were going to make her cum wildly, Charlie abruptly stopped. Was this fantasy realistic? Should she have such thoughts? Should her daddy be unknowingly responsible for her impending orgasm?

She lay still, naked on the bed. The initial pain of the spider bite had become an irritation then a warmth. The warmth had become a very pleasant glow that now pulsed again, imploring her to continue. She needed to cum, she had to cum - that was the only way the glow and the pleasure pulses would be satisfied. She began the whole routine again - breasts, tummy, sides, pudenda, cunt lips, three fingers eagerly slipped inside to lubricate over and around her clit. This time her fingers moved faster, more urgently. The fingers of Charlie's other hand pulled hard at each nipple in turn until they hurt and ached. She squeezed, relishing the extra sexual power that every nerve ending might give to her.

She screamed aloud, not by choice but by the rapid release of pent up sexual energy. "OHMYGOD." Her whole body shook, wave after wave of pure undiluted pleasure rippling from her head to her toes. Her earth moving orgasm slowed little by little, leaving her totally relaxed and satisfied. Her eyes stayed closed and she didn't fight, succumbing to deep slumber.

The next thing she knew it was past noon. She felt alive, buzzing, ready to take on the world. It wasn't washing day and in any case mum was out somewhere. The damp sheet, made wet by her copious cum would dry. This time she rose, showered, took coffee and toast and prepared herself for work. She arrived there, mulling over the puzzling dream she'd had and her practised fingerwork needed to resolve her horny feelings. Daddy of all people, her DADDY! Her body had taken a while to calm down, though she had to blame herself for her second, less powerful orgasm while massaging her soaped breasts and her clit in the shower

*

It was exactly 5 pm on the office clock, the girls lined up ready to leave. It was a reasonable excuse to stay late to catch up following her hastily arranged holiday. Annette waited a few minutes more to check no-one returned. She walked through to Ben's small office, small because his tight-arsed company cut down on management perks, but at least it had a frosted panel on the door and a window that overlooked a brick wall.

"One more tease?" said Ben, sarcastically.

"If that's your attitude, yes."

"No, come here. I'm sorry, I'm just so frustrated." He made to kiss her.

"Mmmmm," she offered, Ben's kiss was something she'd missed and, well, kisses didn't count as infidelity - not kisses between friends, did they? Annette let her hand drop from Ben's shoulder to lazily trace lines to the swollen member behind the zip of his pants.

Ben was astounded at the size of what Annette was now giving attention, puzzled momentarily at its apparent growth in both length and width during the past two days. Her mouth and his were locked in a deeply passionate kisses. Tongues sought every nerve ending, lips against lips, saliva mixing in the most intimate way. Her breasts, young firm breasts pressed eagerly against his chest. He pulled away a little to undo enough blouse buttons to allow him access to her bra, easing fingers inside to her already swollen nipples.

Annette sighed. This kiss was miles better than any of the boyfriends she'd had and even better than her husband could offer. She felt Ben run his fingers over her nipple, encased as it was in her bra. She reached behind, quickly releasing the hook and eye clasps, freeing the lacy material of her C cups and the two remaining buttons, inviting Ben to caress her other breast. He didn't need asking. Their kiss became even more intense, teeth clashing again teeth, jaw muscles aching as mouths opened to maximum. Annette, her right hand again free to coax more moans of pleasure from her temporary partner. But kisses didn't constitute infidelity did they? She was simply thanking Ben for allowing her holiday flexibility. And helping Ben to exercise the muscles controlling his penis were just, well ... she was just helping him with muscle exercises, like a personal trainer.

Ben murmured pleasure more and more as Annette speeded up her attention to the aforesaid muscles. Aware that he was nearing the limit of his control and that new muscles would soon be controlling an ejaculation he pulled away.

"Please Annette, I'm going to shoot," he pleaded.

"Sorry, I got carried away," she answered, dropping to her knees, awkwardly releasing the massively swollen 'problem' and expertly sucking him off. Cum exploded in her mouth as Ben cried out his pleasure. Can the relief of aching muscles be termed as infidelity? Ben guessed not. Nor, he thought, could coming to the assistance of a young lady by helping her clean the residue of internal, sexually produced lubrication when it caused a mess. No, he reckoned, helping a young lady to clean herself could hardly give rise to infidelity. Having noted that Annette needed some help, and ensuring it was her, not him, who removed any obstructing cotton material, Ben could hardly be accused of handling intimate articles of clothing.

Ben's tongue seemed perfect for licking off the liquid his kisses and touches had caused. Annette seemed perfectly delighted too that, by Ben's attention her her pussy lips and clit, he was able to help her release pent-up sexual energy. "Oh fuck," she cried, "Oh, oh, oh ..." And the rest of the uttered sounds and words were, by and large, indecipherable.

Both were now satisfied, though they hastened to rearrange clothing when the clatter of buckets, sweeping brushes and other cleaning materials heralded the arrival of the office cleaning ladies.

*

There was no let up. Charlie had been busy since she sat down at the checkout and she badly needed to pee. Finally the supervisor temporarily shut her till and told her to take her break. Charlie had 15 minutes which she usually stretched to 20 without any complaint. Her breasts were aching, so as soon as she'd relieved herself she unzipped her uniform, allowing her mini-mounds to breathe.

"Problems?" asked Beth who'd finished restocking the shelves, taking her statutory break.

"They're aching," Charlie answered, turning away from the mirror. "And I'm sure they're swollen."

"Monthly due?" asked Beth.

"No," answered her colleague and friend. "Not for 2 weeks."

"Leave it a day or two," advised Beth, "If you're no better then get advice."

"I'd swear they've grown," added Charlie, "But that's supposed to have stopped by now." Charlie quite rightly didn't mention how horny she felt - even though Beth could be trusted. In particular there was a sort of gentle pulsing between where the fading bite marks were and her clit. It was as if ... no that was nonsense. The spider bite making her horny? No way.

"Your nips seem to be swollen too," Beth observed. She laughed, "Any of the Dreamboys been through your till?"

"I wish," laughed Charlie, "Never been that lucky."

A chocolate biscuit and a cup of insipid machine coffee and Charlie was back at her till. The store had quietened but Charlie then had time to reflect. It was as if her breasts were pushing against her zipped uniform. The fact that her nipples were now poking against the smooth synthetic material made her aware that just anybody could observe her arousal. What they couldn't see was her rapidly dampening panties. The small pulses were becoming increasingly faster and stronger. She just had to give her misbehaving clit some attention.

Shift over, the small female staff changing area was empty. Thankfully she always kept spare clean panties in her locker. Before she left the female toilet though, the second pair were soaked too. And following some quick and nifty finger exercises her lust was satiated, at least as long as the relief lasted.

*

Ben logged Annette with an hour's overtime. He dropped her off close to, but not outside, where she lived. Carol had his meal on the table as soon as arrived home. Despite the fact that Annette had managed to relieve his offending muscles, Ben's penis (Carol almost always used the correct word) was resuming armed and ready status, he had a semi. Carol filled him in with details of her day and that alone should have lessened his ardour.

"You're not eating?" he asked her.

"I told you, it's our annual dinner," she reminded him.

"Of course," Ben smiled, "Enjoy it." Carol had several hobbies. The craft club, of which she was secretary, met every Monday. Carol's skills were much appreciated by all her extended family and friends; carefully designed birthday and Christmas cards were Carol's forte. That particular evening he was free to watch whatever he wished on TV. It would be after 10, maybe after 11 by the time she got home.

*

Unlike Ben, Charlie had remembered her mother was out for the whole evening. She was impatient to see daddy, impatient to apologise for pushing his hand away, impatient to tell him, at long last, how his innocent tickles sometimes made her feel. Charlie was impatient to teach her daddy, educate him, encourage him. Hell, why was she so stupid? No boyfriend now; Dave could shove his undersized cock wherever he wanted.

"Daddy!" she announced as soon as she arrived home. She stood, waiting for Ben to turn his head from the TV. "Hello, anyone at home?" she added when he took no notice.

"Hmm hi honey, there's some food left for you to warm up."

"Don't I get a kiss, or at least a hug?" Ben live-paused the TV receiver.

"Sure, Charlie," he said, getting up from the sofa. "You can have a hug any time you want."

"A kiss as well?" Charlie moved closer. "I've been thinking about you all day."

"I don't see why not. You're my favourite daughter after all."

"I'm your ONLY daughter and I need a kiss."

"Bust up with your boyfriend?"

"He's just a jerk and he can't kiss. We split." she paused. "I've seen you and mum and I get jealous."

Ben put his hands on her shoulder and drew her to him. With lips closed her gave her a peck on her lips, moving his hands downwards and drawing her into a welcoming hug. "That better?" he said, smiling.

"It's a start." answered Charlie curtly, "But a girl needs much more than that." she pressed her lips to his, turning him and gently pushing him back to the wall. She opened her lips and persuaded her daddy to do the same. He responded almost immediately and was puzzled that within seconds he was rock hard. Hell, this was his DAUGHTER, what the fuck was happening? Charlie gave him no time to think twice, pushing her hips towards his manhood. And then, suddenly, nothing else mattered.

"Mmm, that's better," said Charlie, in a low voice, and returned to the deep meaningful kiss. Without saying a word she pulled away a little and felt his full cock through his trousers. Overriding his doubts as to whether this was OK, Ben said nothing. Charlie had returned home in just her store-standard zip dress and Ben drew the zip down allowing Charlie to let the dress slip off her shoulders and drop to the floor, shortly followed by his daughter tugging his summer sweat up and over his head. Now they were skin to skin, breast to chest.

In the height of the moment and the throes of instant sexual delight Ben hadn't been aware of the steady pulses from the spider bite mark on his finger. Now he noticed it warming, pulsing faster as a reminder of the spider's unusual venom. At the same Charlie noticed the thigh to clit pulses she'd experienced earlier in the day.