The night light shone through her sheer pajamas. She began unbuttoning her top. "Dreams are meant for dreaming. Dreams are meant for desires." She let slip her bottom. And she climbed onto the bed towards me.
I called her name again, and again, like I always do in the house. And she took off my shirt, and pulled off my pants, and uncovered my snake, hissing.
"It's okay," I told her, "it doesn't bite."
My snake was flickering his tongue, tasting the air; and he slithered his way to her body, tasting her smooth skin, tasting her milky white thighs, drinking up her pussy with his slippery forked tongue.
I laid on top of her and whispered, "Relax. It won't hurt." The snake probed part of his head in at the entrance of her warm channel, tasting the water of her fear and excitement, teasing her, making her wetter. And then, he snaked long and deep into the dark river.
She opened her eyes wide, and shuddered. "It feels weird. Like something cold worming inside me."
"Wait a while and the rhythm will come to you. Like the cold waves of the sea. Wave after wave."
She arched her back and shuddered again. She closed her eyes tight. And her face was a face of agony. The little earthquakes. The unbearable quiverings. The uncontrollable tremblings.
The snake slid in and penetrated her inner soul, licking and stirring up all memories, all secrets, and all her hidden passions. The snake wriggled and wiggled and jiggled in the tightness. And her face soon became a face of pleasurable agony. The loud moanings. The horny cries. The slutty squirmings. And she moved to the rhythms of my fucks. Urging me to go faster, and faster.
The cold waves never arrived. It was the heat instead, notching up the temperature bit by bit. We were panting and perspiring, and the bed was creaking. The slapping sound of bodies in contact. The lusty sight of bodies in motion. The quickening. The quickening. And the quickening of my snake!
Finally it was I who could go on no longer, pulling out from her and collapsing at the side. My snake, almost wasted, immediately coiled up and went back to sleep without a hiss.
Both of us just laid there without words for several minutes. She took the remote and set the air conditioner to 16 degrees celsius. Still, the clock thermometer showed 31.
"None of us have woken up yet," she said, "we are still here in this dream."
"Yeah," I said.
I called her name again, and again, like I always do in the house. And she took off my shirt, and pulled off my pants, and uncovered my snake, hissing.
"It's okay," I told her, "it doesn't bite."
My snake was flickering his tongue, tasting the air; and he slithered his way to her body, tasting her smooth skin, tasting her milky white thighs, drinking up her pussy with his slippery forked tongue.
I laid on top of her and whispered, "Relax. It won't hurt." The snake probed part of his head in at the entrance of her warm channel, tasting the water of her fear and excitement, teasing her, making her wetter. And then, he snaked long and deep into the dark river.
She opened her eyes wide, and shuddered. "It feels weird. Like something cold worming inside me."
"Wait a while and the rhythm will come to you. Like the cold waves of the sea. Wave after wave."
She arched her back and shuddered again. She closed her eyes tight. And her face was a face of agony. The little earthquakes. The unbearable quiverings. The uncontrollable tremblings.
The snake slid in and penetrated her inner soul, licking and stirring up all memories, all secrets, and all her hidden passions. The snake wriggled and wiggled and jiggled in the tightness. And her face soon became a face of pleasurable agony. The loud moanings. The horny cries. The slutty squirmings. And she moved to the rhythms of my fucks. Urging me to go faster, and faster.
The cold waves never arrived. It was the heat instead, notching up the temperature bit by bit. We were panting and perspiring, and the bed was creaking. The slapping sound of bodies in contact. The lusty sight of bodies in motion. The quickening. The quickening. And the quickening of my snake!
Finally it was I who could go on no longer, pulling out from her and collapsing at the side. My snake, almost wasted, immediately coiled up and went back to sleep without a hiss.
Both of us just laid there without words for several minutes. She took the remote and set the air conditioner to 16 degrees celsius. Still, the clock thermometer showed 31.
"None of us have woken up yet," she said, "we are still here in this dream."
"Yeah," I said.
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