Don De V - La Tarantula an Erotic Tale of Spain

Immediately the contact sent an electrical thrill through her. Puffing madly now, she separated the lips of her outer cunt with her left hand and, with her right hand, inserted her forefinger into the throbbing surfaces of the inner cunt and there she seized hold of the alreadystiffening clitoris. Then, bending her chin down onto her breast as far as she could, she tried to seize hold of the nipple of her breast with her mouth. With the aid of her right hand, she lifted the nipple up to her lips and she seized hold of it avidly, sucking at it and mouthing noises like a babe at its mother's breast. Thus, diddling her clitoris with her right hand, stiffening the nipple of her left breast with her left hand and sucking the nipple of her right breast with her lips, the shaft of the banana sunk deeply into her hole and touching her innards, she managed to work herself up to a supreme orgasm. Up and down her body worked itself spasmodically. The bedsprings creaked. The bed shook. Her breath steamed from her nostrils. Moans issued from her lips as she tongued her nipple.

Then she came in a grand overrushing spasm, the fluid spurting over her fingers and dripping from the lips of her cunt. Tiredly, she dropped the tit from her mouth. Her busy fingers fell away from her lips. But the fingers of her other hand remained in her cunt, feeling the passionate vibrations of the muscles therein and the hot fluid of her orgasm moistening the entire hole.

But as she lay back against the cushions, she saw a black hooded figure emerge from the window that opened up into a balcony that ran around the patio.

In the chill morning gloom she saw the figure put her finger to her mouth as though commanding her to silence. When her eyes became accustomed to the dark, La Tarantula saw that her visitor was a nun from the nearby convent. Still wordless, the nun helped her on with her clothes, although La Tarantula noticed that the nun was not overly fast in helping her do that but allowed her hands to linger on her buxom breasts and curvetted flanks.

"What do you want?" La Tarantula asked.

The nun said only, "Come!"

They went. The nun led her down the steps and out onto the street.

Through the dark streets of the night they went, La Tarantula following faithfully after the nun, not daring to speak a word in objection because, after all, it was a nun who was leading her. Besides, the situation smacked of something different, something to change the awful deadly monotony of life as it had existed for La Tarantula in the past year.

Out of the gloom, La Tarantula saw a great hulk of a figure bulking like a fortress. At first she did not recognize it. But when they got closer she saw that it was the old nunnery of La Novedad. Wild conjectures flew about in her head. What did the nuns want with her? Why were they bringing her there? What had she done? Was she to repent for the death of her lovers?

The nun pulled a knob. A bell tinkled faintly in the bowels of the inside. The heavy door slid open a few inches. The nun, leading her charge, slithered into the slim aperture. La Tarantula saw that they were in a moonlit patio. About fifty other black-robed nuns were grouped around an inner circle. Two of them had guitars which they were strumming occasionally. She found herself being led up to the centre of the ring. An elderly nun beckoned to her. She was the Mother Superior, La Tarantula knew. Breathlessly, she advanced to the nun.

"You are she who is known as La Tarantula?" the nun asked her in a low voice.

La Tarantula nodded her head.

"Good!" the other said, "we are here to witness your notorious dance!" and with a wave of her finger she indicated something to the nuns who were at her side. Immediately, with an avidity that was alarming, they set upon the frightened girl and began to strip her clothing from her.

Lasciviously, their eyes followed every bared spot on her. Lewdly, their fingers lingered on her breasts, her hair, her thighs. She felt their hot breath breathing on her flesh. And, as each new feminine delight was displayed, she could hear definite sighs coming from the group of nuns circled about her.

In a few moments, she stood there in front of them stark naked. In the silver moonlight that streamed over her olive-skinned body she appeared to be an alabaster statue carved from the purest of stone. The hollows and the shadows in her glowed dully. Her breasts, their contours accentuated by the shadows which they cast, stood out like twin beauties. Her pubic section with its triangle of hair and its jewel of a cunt nestled in it like a dark ruby in a case, brought a chorus of sighs and moans from her audience.

"Dance!" the nun commanded.

The two guitarists set up a strumming on their instruments. For the moment, La Tarantula stood where she had been placed, her body quivering from the cold. But when she felt the power of the music insisting itself into her body, she began to dance as she had never danced before. Something told her it was going to be the last time she was going to dance. The music rose to an ecstatic pitch. Faster and faster the fingers of the players twanged their strings. Faster and faster La Tarantula moved every muscle in her anatomy to the rhythms of the music. Her breasts swayed as her torso shook. The moonlight's shadows fluttered about her body like black moths. Sinuously she whirled her hips, shaking her whole body from side to side as though she were involved in a great orgasm. She saw many of the nuns lave their lips with their tongues. Others' fingers clutched at their habits.

One, in particular, she saw insert her hand between the folds of her gown and there push it up and back excitedly.

Suddenly, in the midst of a particularly fast and furious caper, one of the nuns could control herself no longer. Opening her black habit wide, she displayed that she was stark naked beneath it.

Unhesitatingly, she leaped to the circle and seized hold of La Tarantula. There, she kissed her madly and inserted her finger into the dancer's cunt. She withdrew her finger in a short time and began to rub cunts with her, kissing her lips and her breasts and her nipples, seizing her in long fingers that gripped the dancer's flesh with deep scratches.

Almost as suddenly, another of the nuns doffed the single garment that covered her and leaped into the circle naked. She seized La Tarantula from the grasp of the first nun and began to do with her as the first one had done, moaning loudly and weeping. Others in the circle threw off their habits. Some took great big dildoes from their pockets and inserted them into either their own throbbing cunts or their neighbours'. A mad period of kissing and rubbing of cunts ensued. The air was filled with the concert of their cries and moans. Soon, the circle was a circle no more but a milling mob of naked women fucking each other with artificial pricks, fingerfucking themselves, kissing other women's tits, and doing all those things that women take pleasure out of when they haven't a man for the job. The guitarists played on. The orgy continued.

But La Tarantula was not there when it ended. For, suddenly, in the midst of the sexual tumult, she felt a hand thrown over her mouth and an arm drawn about her waist. Somebody was dragging her along in the darkness. She saw the trees of the patio disappear. Then she felt herself being carried down, down into damp subterranean tunnels. In the gloom, she saw water dripping from the ceiling of the labyrinth through which she was being carried. Finally, she heard a heavy grinding of a gate on rusty hinges. Then she felt herself being eased onto a soft bed. When her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, she saw an immense black-cowled figure of a monk towering over her.

His eyes, fanatic in their intensity, glowered down at her like fireflies in the dark. He was panting from the exertion of having carried her.