HOW DO SNAKES DO IT? - KENNETH JAMES CRIST
“How do snakes do it?”
Bobby and Caroline were lying sprawled in bed under the ceiling fan. She was one of those redheads men dream about. Alabaster skin, pubic hair that matched, coral nipples, freckles and the whole bit.
He was a hairy bastard. Damn near as much on his back as on his head. Dark five o’clock shadow even right after he shaved. Striking blue eyes and pretty well-hung, too.
“Huh?” He had been almost asleep, enjoying the afterglow of great sex. It hadn’t always been great with her, but she was coming along…
“I’ve always wondered—how do snakes do it? How do they fuck? I mean, they can’t really hold each other…”
“Jesus, Caroline, why the hell does this shit matter?” He wasn’t really irritated with her, but sometimes she came up with some of the damnedest thoughts.
“Well, sometimes I just get curious about things like that.”
“I seem to recall a few short weeks ago, you didn’t know much about how humans did it, let alone…”
“Gawd, I know. I was really fucked up in the head. I never knew it could be so good…”
“No, seriously, you taught me so much about my own sexuality, and sensuality. I’ve done things with you I’d have never dreamed of doing before.”
“So. Snakes, huh?”
“Yeah. Snakes. Does the male have a penis?”
“Duh. Of course he does. And the female has a cooter, too.”
“You mean vagina.”
“Yeah. Snake snatch.” He was trying not to laugh. So was she, but she was going to crack up any minute now.
“Doesn’t really tell me much…”
“Well, I’d imagine, the male would start out by flicking his tongue…like this…” He turned over and attacked her, flicking everywhere he could reach until he settled in between her legs. The giggling started right about then.
Soon, he was gripping her tightly, cupping her ass in both hands as he worked her up into a gasping shivering mess. When he was ready, he entered her, thrusting deep and hard, then holding her tightly as he began wrapping himself around her. First the arms, pinning her own arms to her sides, then the legs, forcing her legs together, making her small sheath even tighter as he slowly and steadily applied pressure.
Caroline had engaged in rough sex before, so she wasn’t really alarmed until she began to realize that his body was elongating, stretching out, becoming somehow thinner, and that his two legs seemed to have become only one, a long, impossibly long leg that wound around her legs. And that things were still tightening.
Her eyes flew open as he bit the side of her throat and she felt blood trickling down from where his fangs were now dug in, giving additional purchase. His left eye was inches from her own and amid the scales she saw the slitted pupil and she tried to draw in breath to scream, but there was no breath.
His two arms had disappeared and his body was looped around hers at least twice, maybe three times. His skin had become cool and shiny and there was a definite pattern to his scales. All that body hair was gone.
Now she was definitely scared and struggling, trying to find some escape, but the edges of her vision were beginning to sparkle and she couldn’t get her breath. Inside, she felt his size increase until there was definite pain there, too, and then she felt him come. She had never actually felt his semen pump into her before. This time she did—just before she lost consciousness.
When Caroline came back to consciousness, Bobby was not in the room. She was on her back in the center of their bed, a load of semen drying between her legs and there were blood drops on her pillow. She felt bruised all over.
Then Bobby came back from the bathroom and sat next to her on the bed. “Now,” he said, grinning evilly, “ya wanna know how chickens do it?”
Year of an Indie Writer: Week 34
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