Limitless Evolution As a Snake

This soft stream of warm air right across both of my heads, slow and deliberate, and I swear my whole vision goes white for a second. My hips buck up on instinct, my tail thrashes against the rug, and I’m right there, right on the edge, about to go off just from breath alone like some kind of teenager who’s never touched himself before.

”No, no, not now,” she says, pulling back just enough, watching my whole body shudder and try to chase the feeling that isn’t there anymore.

”Bad boy.”

Bad boy. She says it softly, almost sweet, but there’s a warning underneath it that goes straight to my spine.

My head’s spinning at this point, thoughts tripping over each other so fast I can’t hold onto a single one. Part of me is screaming that I’m a Rank D monster, a giant coiled mass of muscle and venom and scale that could probably flatten a building if I really wanted to well a small building or a car, and here I am shaking like a leaf because a woman half my size told me not to cum yet.

Another part of me doesn’t even care about the logic of it, just wants more, wants her hands, wants her mouth, wants anything she’ll give me.

”Cherry, I need y-”

”You need to touch yourself,” she says, cutting me off clean. ”With your tail.”

That stops the spiral for half a second.

”What?”

”You heard me.” She sits back up, resuming that slow grind against my coils behind my balls, nearly touching them but not close enough. Hell, I can feel the heat of her pussy from here.

She sits up with a casual grace that makes the fire in my gut burn hotter. The control she has is absolute, and the worst part is, she knows it.

”Show me.”

I don’t even fully register moving before my own tail is curling up between us, the tip finding one of my cocks and wrapping loosely around the base. It feels stupid; damn it, it feels embarrassing. It also feels really, really good, and the second I start moving it, slow strokes up toward the head, her eyes lock onto the motion like she’s never seen anything better in her life.

”Good boy,” she murmurs, and the praise does something horrible and wonderful to my chest.

She keeps grinding the whole time, keeps rocking her hips against my body in this steady, unhurried rhythm, watching me stroke myself with my own tail like it’s the best show she’s ever paid for. My other cock throbs untouched, twitching every time her hips roll a certain way, every time her eyes flick down to watch what my tail’s doing.

Even without Old Mate chiming in, I can hear the phantom commentary in my head. A giant monster snake, reduced to this. Absolute legend.

”Faster,” Cherry says, voice dropping another notch, and I obey without even thinking about whether I want to argue.

”Tell me what you want,” she smirks.

”Yo-u.”

Her smile widens, clearly proud of the state she has me in. ”Then you will need to be patient, and you’ll have me.”

Her hips keep rolling, a slow, deliberate torment as her hands drift up to the buttons of her maid dress. She pops them open one by one, taking her sweet time, and I know she can feel the tension coiling through my body with every passing second.

”Watch,” she says, not that I could look anywhere else.

The dress slides down off her shoulders, and she shrugs the rest of it away, and her chest just kind of spills out, heavy and full and bouncing once before settling. My whole brain turns into goo for a second. I forget how to breathe, forget I even have a tail still stroking me, forget everything except the sight of her.

”Focus,” she giggles, and there’s a little laugh in it, like she caught me completely.

She goes back to grinding against me, slow figure-eight rolls of her hips, and her arms come up over her head, stretching, twisting, this lazy kind of dance that isn’t rushed at all. Her torso moves as water, hips one way, shoulders another, and her hands slide down over her own skin like she’s got all the time in the world.

She cups both breasts in her hands, squeezes them together, holds them like that for a second just to watch my eyes practically fall out of my skull, then lets go, and they bounce free again. My tail speeds up on its own; I swear it’s got a mind of its own at this point, and she notices, smiles, doesn’t tell me to stop.

Her fingers find her own nipples next, pinching them slow, and a tiny squeak comes out of her that’s got no business being that cute when the rest of her is being this filthy.

I lean my head up without even deciding to, tongue flicking out on instinct, desperate for just one taste of her skin.

She puts one finger right against the flat of my snout and pushes me back down onto the rug, gentle but absolute. ”No, no, bad boy, you only get to watch.”

The words land somewhere low in my chest, and my whole body listens even though every other part of me wants to argue.

So I watch. She keeps dancing on top of me, slow and unbothered, her breasts swinging and bouncing with every roll of her hips, skin catching the light. Her panties are the only thing left, soaked clean through, clinging to her, and right above the lace black waistband I catch sight of that tattoo, the succubus mark, dark ink curling just above her pelvis like it was always meant to be there.

Her hips stutter against my coils, breaking that smooth rhythm for just a second, and this soft moan slips out of her that sounds different from the rest, less like a performance and more like something real underneath it.

”Matt,” she says, and her voice cracks a little on my name, all that low commanding heat draining out of it for just a moment.

”This is my first time. Please, be gentle.”