Nancy and the snakebyFrogsporn©
Nothing phases Nancy. She is a busty blonde who has total belief in human kindness. She just knows everyone loves her, and this gives her a joy and confidence in life that indeed make her adorable. And fearless: she could not conceive that anyone or anything could possibly harm her. Her consequent demeanour of brimming confidence stands her in excellent stead, being universally taken to be a sign of immense intellectual ability. No-one considers taking advantage of her: they don't think they can get away with it.
Because of this assumed capability, she was invited to join an expedition to explore the upper reaches of the Amazon. She blithely signed the mandatory form absolving the organisers of any responsibility for her safety. Others were nervous. Not Nancy. Her reassuring calm amazed everyone. She remained undisturbed during the unexpected wait for visas, even when news arrived of fatalities suffered by an earlier expedition, and all through the storm that ravaged the lower Amazon and delayed their final departure, right up to the time when, bivouacked high up the river, she stumbled out of the tent in the middle of the night in urgent need of a pee.
No place was satisfactory – too marshy at first, too prickly later. As she wandered further and further from the camp in her skimpy nightie, pressing a finger tight against her pee-hole, the animals who watched her were in awe. Any human with such effrontery had to be powerful – too powerful to attack. Even the mosquitoes whined at a distance.
It takes a snake to see through such idiotic bravado. Languidly wrapping his tail around a branch, he lowers his length in a lopsided U and hisses softly. Nancy says, "Hello."
Our snake is mildly surprised, but recovers himself. "Where are you going, young lady?" he sibilates.
"I'm desperate for a pee," squawks Nancy, "and I really can't find anywhere suitable."
"Follow me," whispers the snake, like an expiring Espresso machine. "I know just the place.
"Thank you," says Nancy, well bred as she is, watching Snake slither to the jungle floor and flip his tail encouragingly.
Deeper and darker and greener and lusher the jungle becomes, till Nancy exclaims, "Sir, I can't see you. Which way are you going?"
"I'm here, on this moss. Pisssss here. You'll be fine." But even he is astonished at the gush and the flow, at the torrent released, as our Nancy unbuttons her urinary tract. He's near flushed away. He has to swim. He wriggles upstream with a flip and a flash of his devilish tail, his muscular trim.
"Thank you, kind sir," our Nancy effuses. "I'm feeling much better. I'm so relieved!"
"Not at all, not at all," splutters the snake. "Just let me make sure there's not a drop left."
"How will you do that?" our heroine asks.
"Ssssss, there are ways," the serpent replies.
At this point he's in a bit of a quandary. His initial thought had been, "Here's a nice bit of stuff, I'll eat her." But now he's realised a) she's a helluva mouthful, really far more than he can easily swallow, and b) there are maybe more delightful things to be done with a gorgeous, breasty, naïve chunk of human flesh than merely eating it/her – at least straight away. "I'll fuck her," he thinks.
"It'sss a warm night, but the jungle floor isss cool and ssoft jussst over here. Lie down there on your back, my dear, while I make my inssspection."
Obliging as ever, Nancy lies on the cool leaf mould, her knees slightly raised, her nightie pulled back, her legs apart. The sight of her exposed, slightly pee-sodden cunt glistening in the moon's forest-green light sends ripples of excitement undulating through Snake. With flickering tongue he samples her, tasting a blend of mouth-drying piss and that sweet, endorphin-laden charge of pussy-juice. Nancy is excited.
"Thissss may take a few minutes, to make ssssure you are quite clean," hisses Snake, entering her bodily now, and stimulating the flow of a nectar more delicious and intoxicating than the blood and guts of any mammal he has consumed before. Nancy is in heaven, experiencing something utterly new. So is Snake, head-fucking Nancy by accident, purely to gulp down draughts of the glorious cunt juice that the very thrusts and withdrawals of his head are causing Nancy to discharge. It's strong stuff for a snake. He's quickly drunk, passes out, and dies. For Nancy the new bliss is merely exhausting. In a happy delirium she falls asleep.
Towards morning, half awake, sensing something tampon-like inside her but aware, by that sixth sense women have, that it's not the right time for it, she – whooooosh – pulls forth the dead reptile; and that is the moment her fellow expeditionaries discover her. Their self-congratulation is great: to have selected this snake-slayer as their companion and saviour. Natives appearing from the jungle a few minutes later find hairy foreigners worshipping a well-built blonde goddess, and themselves do join in the obeisance to Nancy.