Posted by Kewpid on June 20, 2002 at 12:24:14:
SILK & SERPENTS
By
Kewpid
He couldn’t keep from gasping as he felt his balls contract, the geyser of his spunk about to blow. Lisa’s head kept bobbing eagerly. She’d coaxed him to the brink before, then clamped him shut until the pressure dropped. This time she was ready for a mouthful. They both knew she had teased him past the point of no return.
His upper body strained against the pillows. He pushed his fingers deep into her hair. Lisa licked and flicked at him, her naked shoulders nudging at his thighs. He felt his passion flood into his penis. Lisa sensed it too – and reared back, releasing him. He shot his wad: the gout of semen splattered on her tits. She tipped her head back, grinning with delight. A second fountain splashed her chest, enough to drown her diamond crucifix. He watched her bare breasts panting, the perky nipples begging to be sucked. But he was listless, drained of lust, his orgasm diminished to an ooze.
Lisa sat back, breathless, on the big four-poster bed. Framed by dark bobbed hair, her face was impish. “My turn now,” she teased him, like a naughty teenager. Keeping her bright eyes on his, she squirmed out of her briefs.
The Host sprawled on his silken sheets, and watched her stroke herself. Below the tuft of pubic hair, her pussy was a crumpled pink carnation. Lisa’s fingers started to unfold it. Pouting now, she rose up on her knees.
He grinned at her, still short of breath. “Even I need some time to recover.”
“Worn your tongue out, then?” she asked.
“Wait just a minute, girl. I need to pee ...”
Lisa stroked her sticky breasts, still pouting. Gathering a gob of spunk, she sucked it off her finger, as wide-eyed as a schoolgirl with a sweet. The Host felt passion clog his throat. His tender penis twitched. He slithered off the bed and stood. She flopped down on the rumpled sheets behind him.
“Hurry up, I’m getting bored already!”
He watched her stretch and snuggle up, a kitten on the bed. A faint, ironic smile curved his lips. “You want a snake, I’ll give you one, my girl.”
She smiled smugly back at him, her dark hair in her eyes. Supine now, her breasts smoothed out, the nipples tight as buds. He paused, supremely confident, to let her ogle him. Weight-training and water sports had left him tanned and fit. Her gaze took in his six-pack, then slid downward. His cock had lost its stiffness but still dangled at full length.
He knew she was impressed by him, and so pleased with herself. First chance that she got, she would be bragging to her friends. Or so she thought, the Host reflected calmly. Her cellphone would be in her purse, discarded with her slinky evening gown. She’d never pick it up again, or put her clothes back on. Flirty little Lisa was about to die de-briefed.
She drew one leg up coyly. “So go on and have your pee.”
Leaving her to wallow in the silky nest of sheets, the Host walked over to the en suite bathroom. The tiles felt cool beneath his feet, the retro fittings gleaming and austere. He peed into the pristine bowl and flushed congealing spunk out of his tubes. Still dripping, he turned round towards the wash stand. The angled shaving mirror gave a clear view of the bed. He watched his house-guest sit back up and start to preen herself.
He grasped the lever on the wall, and pulled it smoothly downward.
His penis had begun to rise again.
***
Lisa was examining her semen-spattered breasts. The gluey blobs had started to dissolve. The liquid had felt scalding as it struck her tender flesh, but now it clung like egg-white to her skin. The smell was still a turn-on, though: that salty musk of manliness and sex.
She’d glanced round at the bathroom as her host began to pee, his water streaming down into the bowl. The everyday, domestic sound seemed out of place in this erotic dream. Then she’d smiled and though about his penis squirting gold. Her heart began to beat a little faster. It thudded in her temples and she found it hard to breathe, as if there was a choker round her neck.
She couldn’t quite believe that it was happening, even now. This morning she’d been at her keyboard, typing legalese. This afternoon he’d picked her up and driven to his lavish country house. She’d met the guy a week ago - bringing him a coffee while he waited for the boss. She’d been her normal cheery self, and flirted shamelessly, but hadn’t really thought that he’d look twice. Everything about him spoke of power, money, class. He wouldn’t want to bother with a legal secretary.
The flowers arrived next morning, and he’d called that afternoon. It hadn’t taken very long to court her. And now there was this lovely house; the champagne served with dinner. She’d got a bit too giggly, but her head was clearer now.
She thought she could get used to being treated like a lady. Now he’d got her into bed, she meant to keep him hooked. Lisa, all of twenty-one, had teased her way through half a dozen boyfriends. She knew that men were partial to her shapely tits and elfin little smile.
It helped that she was good at blow-jobs too.
He’d finished, there was silence from the bathroom. Lisa ran her hands back through her hair. Her lacy panties caught her eye, discarded where she’d dropped them. At last, she’d met a guy who didn’t joke about her briefs.
She’d play demure this time, it would entice him. She nestled back against the plumped-up pillows and drew the crumpled sheets around herself. Gathering a handful to her chin, she sat and waited. The cool silk settled, clinging to her curves.
Something clammy twitched against her thigh.
Shock went fizzing through her nerves. The fine hair on her forearms stood up straight. For a moment she sat paralysed by sheer disbelief. Then the contact came again, a living coldness sliding past her skin. Like a disembodied penis trying to slither up her leg.
Lisa squealed and kicked against the soft cocoon of silk. Something snagged her inner thigh and stung her like a wasp. She drew her breath in sharply. “Ow!” she sobbed. Incredulous, she felt the pain grow sharper, as if a two-pronged fork was being thrust into her flesh. “Ow!” she wailed, with growing fright. Then: “Ow-ww!”
Galvanised, she writhed and flung the sheet off. The biting pain relented, but it left an achy throbbing in her leg. Gasping, Lisa squirmed around - but nothing stirred amid the tangled silk. “What the fuck …?” she whimpered, reaching down to rub herself. She saw two beads of blood against the smoothness of her thigh. The muscle was beginning to grow numb.
Crouching there, still stupefied, she didn’t see the movement till too late. A fold of silk twitched slightly, and then slithered to one side. A living snake reared up in front of her.
Lisa’s eyes grew wide in utter horror. Her body froze, each muscle knotted tight. Poised, the snake regarded her without a spark of pity. Its skin was dry and shiny, black as pitch. The flat head wavered slightly. The forked tongue darted from its puckered mouth.
The Host was clasping his own snake, still watching in the mirror: as mesmerised as poor Lisa now.
The serpent hissed. The sound was venomous. Lisa bleated helplessly. She didn’t dare to move. The snake was staring at her breasts; she realised she was panting. Her tits pulsated with each breath. She couldn’t keep them still.
It lunged at her like lightning, she had no time to react. Striking at her breast, it bit: she felt it pinch her soft flesh like a clothes-peg. Then the fangs went sinking in, and Lisa squealed aloud. The pain was piercing, needle-sharp, but she could feel the poison: a sudden coldness squirting through her flesh.
She slapped the horrid thing away: it dropped onto the sheet and coiled up. Squirming back, she raised herself to scramble off the bed. A swoop of nausea made her reel; her mind turned upside down. Still on her knees, she clutched the bed’s furled curtain, grasping at the velvet to prevent a headlong fall.
The Host caressed his rampant cock, imagining the death of Cleopatra.
Lisa breathed in squeaky gasps, and felt the coldness spreading. Abruptly she was soaked in sweat. She wanted to be sick. The chill was deep inside her now. It wriggled like a worm into her heart.
Crushing pain erupted in her chest, engulfing her. Lisa mewed, grimacing with distress. She stuck her spunky tits out but had no strength left to clasp them. Then the curtain tore and she flopped forward. Her body slumped head down across the edge of the bed.
The Host stood watching, fingering his flesh. Lisa twitched spasmodically. He heard a fart seep out between her buttocks. Then she was still and silent. He waited for a minute, then stepped back into the bedroom.
First things first. He fetched a wicker basket from the corner. The snake was curled up in the sheets beside her naked body. Using a forked stick, he coaxed it back into the basket. Fastening the lid, he put it safely to one side.
He turned towards the bed again, and contemplated Lisa’s shapely corpse. The Queen of the Nile had died like that. Her serving-maids had felt those poisonous pangs. He looked up at the Rixens painting hanging on the wall. Lisa had undressed beneath it, never guessing what it meant for her.
The picture showed a naked Cleopatra, cool and dead. His penis quivered as he gazed at her. But Lisa couldn’t play the queen; she had the curves all right, but not the class. Another role was ready-made for somebody like her. A handmaiden, half-naked, had collapsed across the body, and Lisa lay face down in the same posture. The venom of the asp had killed both girls with equal swiftness. The secretary had squealed as she was bitten in the tits. The servant would have yielded to her fate.
He walked around the bed again, and raised the dead girl’s head. Her plump breasts dangled, glistening with spunk. Lisa’s jaw was slack, her tongue protruding. Her eyes were closed as if in sulky sleep.
“Charmian … was this well?” he asked her softly.
The luckless serving maid could give no answer.
Holding her head between his hands, he let his penis slide into her mouth. Its tender tip poked up against her palate. He rubbed it slowly back and forth; she gawped as if she couldn’t get enough. He stared down at her slender back and peachy, pert behind. The silly bitch had sniggered like a schoolgirl over dinner, already looking forward to the sex. He thought of how she’d smirked at him, and came explosively. Semen blurted down her throat, but Lisa didn’t blink. The Host withdrew his seeping cock and let her head fall forward.
“Don’t tell me not to come inside your mouth, you little slut.”
Lisa’s head stayed bowed submissively. Looking round, he saw her panties crumpled on the bed. He picked them up and sniffed them; they smelled pungently of her. He wiped his penis clean with them, then hauled her head back up. Her eyes had partly opened, to reveal the milky whites.
“Better not forget your briefs, young lady.”
He smiled and stuffed the lace into the dead girl’s open mouth - then let her pretty head flop down once more.