He had stumbled upon her dragline, and, little aware of the power of pheromones, found himself coyly entreated to follow it until he espied her in the distance, busily emitting a silken web from her abdominal spinneret. He began to strum the thread, and she declined even to turn and face him, instead violently shaking the web to ward him off. But he had one purpose, borne of an instinct stronger than survival, and he plunged across the quivering web toward her. He could feel that he was handling the awkwardness of his progress masterfully, and that she was becoming receptive owing to his obvious skill. He primed his pedipalps with sperm, ready to place it on a little bit of web so that she would only be waiting a second or two. He tenderly levered open the scape on her priapic outgrowth to ease open her genital aperture and grant himself access to her copulatory ducts. His issue flowed eagerly unto her seminal receptacles, there to remain while she fattened her body on flies and aphids over the following months. His task completed most satisfactorily for them both, it made more sense for him to be used as meat, and she towered over him for a moment before chomping down hard and consuming his whole cephalothorax in one bite.
He stuffed both his wanger and his balls into her mouth at once. Far from complaining, she tried to digest them. This attempt was met with partial success. His wanger and balls survived, but he left her a little something to keep her going until dinnertime (his spunky load).