Limitless Evolution As a Snake

Her face is doing this thing where it can’t pick a lane, red and mortified one second, eyes gone dark and half-lidded the next, horn stumps twitching between shy little flutters and dead still focus, like her whole nervous system is glitching out trying to run two people at once.

I get down between her fingers too, actually between them, tongue flicking along the webbing before I move on, and she makes a sound like she’s never had someone pay attention there before, which, fair, most people probably haven’t.

"Matt," she whispers, breathless, "the door, they’re right there, if anyone..."

"Then be quiet," I murmur against her skin. Smoke curls from my shoulders, tendrils snaking upward. Ghost hands. Seriously. I’ve got smoke fingers coiling around her nipples through her dress. She arches off the wall with a choked cry, and I loop an arm around her waist to keep her upright. Okay, focus. Sacred text to read down here. By the time I get where I’m going, her thighs are trembling against my head.

I go in with my tongue first, slow at first, savouring, and her whole body seizes up.

"Ahh-omf" comes out way too loud before she chokes it down into her palm, chest heaving, wings twitching against the wall behind her.

I don’t ease up. Forked tongue working steady, tasting her clean, and every noise she makes gets swallowed halfway through by her own hand, little broken half-moans slipping out the sides of her fingers no matter how hard she tries to clamp down.

"Matt," she gasps into her palm, hips already rolling forward to meet me like she can’t help it, "Matt, I’m gonna- the door, oh my god the door!"

"Later," I say against her, voice rough, not even close to stopping. I push my tongue against her dripping pussy, voice thick and rough. He doesn’t lift his head.

Her head falls back against the stained glass with a soft thud, eyes rolled halfway shut, and for one long second she stops trying to be quiet at all, just a low, shaking moan sliding right out of her throat before she catches herself and slaps both hands over her mouth again, horrified, giggling into her own palms like she can’t believe she just did that with a wharehouse full of snakes six feet away.

I hum low and satisfied, letting the vibration travel straight through her clit. There’s that hum again. At least this time it’s not the one that means someone’s about to die. Cherry’s whole body shudders, pussy clenching tight around my tongue.

Through the glass, blurry and warped by the colored panes, I can just make out shapes moving inside. Nobody’s looking this way, nobody’s coming.

I lick her harder and faster, tasting every fresh rush of juice while my free smoke hand slides up to palm her breast, thumb flicking her nipple. HOLY SHIT, the door could open any second. Anyone could hear this. My brain is screaming ’abort mission ’, but the rest of me seems to have other plans, keeping her pinned and riding my face.

My smoke hands aren’t strong, not really, more like a warm breeze with intentions, but I wrap them around her hips anyway, squeezing softly where I can, another curling up to knead her thigh while she shakes against the glass. She’s babbling now, little broken words that don’t finish, my name and please and oh god mixed together into something that isn’t even English anymore.

"You’re close," I tease against her, not even a question. I can taste it, feel the way her thighs clamp tighter around my head like she’s trying to keep me there forever.

"Shut up, shut up," she whimpers, hips grinding down against my mouth even as her hands scrabble at my head, "don’t talk, don’t stop, don’t—Matt— Haah"

I don’t stop. I go faster instead, tongue working deep and steady while my smoke tendril tightens around her nipple just enough to make her gasp, and her whole body starts trembling in this fine, constant shiver like she’s a bomb about to blow.

"I can’t, I can’t be quiet, I can’t!" she gasps, voice cracking. Then a moan rips out of her, loud enough that I actually flinch. Holy shit. That wasn’t just loud; that was an ’alert the guards, summon the final boss’ level of noise. We are so busted. She claps both hands over her mouth, but it’s too late. Her hips are stuttering, and I loop a smoke arm tighter around her. Fuck it. Might as well finish.

"Matt, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming—"

The words break apart into a wail muffled behind her palms, and then she does, whole body locking up, back arching off the stained glass, and she cums so hard she squirts right across my face, her hips piston against my face, each thrust slamming her tail into the stained glass hard enough to spiderweb cracks across the panes, the wet slap of flesh and the sharp *tink* of fracturing glass keeping time with her choked screams.

That’s exactly when the door clicks open.

I don’t even process it at first, too busy riding out the aftershocks with her, tongue still moving lazily through the walls inside her cunt while she shudders and twitches above me, but then cold air hits us both, and I feel her whole body go rigid in a completely different way.

I look up.

Channel is standing in the doorway, one hand still on the handle, mouth slightly open, staring at Cherry mid-orgasm with her dress hiked up around her waist and me buried face-first between her legs like I’ve got nowhere better to be.

Nobody says anything for a solid two seconds.

Cherry’s tongue lolls out in a blissed-out daze, a dopey grin spreading across her face as she slurs, "Hi, puppy," before her wings give one last contented flutter against the glass.

I wipe my mouth with a slow sweep of my tail tip.

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