4 comments/ 81310 views/ 14 favorites Kiss of the Viper By: ronde I stared at the serpent sculpted from the stone block, a serpent with an apparent hood of feathers. Scholars worldwide were in disagreement about the hood. Some maintained that this represented the feathered serpent of the Aztecs of South America, a creature today extinct, or at least a creature unseen in times recorded by the written word. Others vigorously defended their position that the serpent represented only a deity of the ancient folklore. I had come again to this place, as I had so many times before, to contemplate my future and to remember my past. I was not alone in my search into the past. The woman beside me was silent in her perusal of the carving which sat with other like blocks around the courtyard of the temple. She was a beautiful woman, with deep, blue eyes that glowed with life, and skin the color of wildflower honey highlighted the yellow-blonde mane of hair that cascaded over her khaki shirt. The shirt was open down the front enough to offer a glimpse of a white bra from time to time, and the same coppery color appeared to have no demarcation. This I perceived at the short distance that had separated us until she came to stand beside me. Her body was exquisite. Hips rounded by maturity nicely filled the khaki shorts, the seam tucking in between buttocks that promised firmness and responsiveness to any man with fortune enough to touch them. Her breasts were another feature that hinted at ripe femininity and passion. Large enough to force open the shirt and afford a view of soft, rounded curves, they stood proudly from her chest, and no undergarment could have accomplished the elevation by pure mechanics. The absence of a belly indicated that she had born no children, or at least, if she had, she had restored the muscle tone after the birth. As she came closer, I saw that the tanned skin was smooth and soft. She wore no ring on her left hand, and I debated speaking to her. I must be certain, for she may not be strong enough, and once begun, the journey must proceed to it's end, whether death or infinite ecstasy. In almost two hundred years, my search had found none with the strength. "To which theory do you subscribe?, the pleasantly soft and sensually low voice said. I awoke from my private thoughts to see her looking at me, the blue eyes glowing with the question, and with some other flame I could not decipher. "Which theory?" "Is this a myth, or a real, though extinct, animal." Would that I could tell you, my flaxen-haired beauty, the truth that I know, the dual curse and blessing bestowed on me so many years ago. Would that you would believe me, even if this truth were revealed to you now. But I know that you, like all others, would brand me a lunatic, a victim of some grievous mental disease or simply think me consumed by childish fantasy. "It is difficult to say. The figure appears so often in this culture that one would believe it a deified, living creature, but why would the sculptors not have depicted it in the scenes of ceremonies if it were so? Perhaps it was a living, feared creature, and the priests placed its effigy around the temple to fend it off, much as Australian farmers hang dingo carcasses on fences. Perhaps it was merely the vision brought to an ancient priest by the use of strong medicinal plants. Who can say, so many ages after these stones were carved?" "You have adroitly sidestepped giving me an answer, sir, but no mind. Perhaps the mystery should remain as such. Sometimes, the truth is less palatable than the myth, and greater knowledge is not always to one's benefit." "Spoken as one versed in the pain of truth and the comfort of myth, my lady. Perhaps you are a scholar?" The soft eyes suddenly flared brighter as she looked at me, and then returned to deep, unfathomable pools. "I am Isa Bjoran, curator of antiquities for the Museum of Civilization in Copenhagen. I have studied the ruins of the Maya and Aztec for many years. The origin of this serpent has escaped me thus far, but I believe it to be an actual creature of the past." The eyes settled on mine, or rather, into mine as she waited for a response. Perhaps she could bear the experience. If she could... "My name is Richard Wainwright, and, alas, I am but a layman in these matters. I enjoy collecting artifacts for my private pleasure and for my business, but my studies are surely less exacting than yours. I suppose it would please me if the creature were real, for that would give more meaning to the sculptures." She smiled. "Well, it seems as if we have at least one thing in common." "So it does. Miss Bjoran, since I am alone, and you appear to be so also, would you do me the great pleasure of dining with me tonight? We could discuss this matter in detail over coffee afterwards." The truth of the serpent is a tale best begun at the beginning, and it is in the summer of 1823 that I start. The expedition was financed by a wealthy landowner with estates near London who's fortune was exceeded only by his desire to believe any tale of adventure which would lead to wealth. On one of his daily rides through the grounds, he was approached by one of his grooms, a small, dark, furtive man with only one arm who told a tale of gold and silver in a certain river valley of the Amazon. The man claimed to be a Portuguese sailor who had worked on a boat which traveled up-river to trade with the natives. He had made advances toward a certain native woman, who led him from the river to a cave further up the valley. There, the sailor had fallen to the charms of her young, pert breasts, and the always damp passage faintly shrouded by the soft hair which caressed her mound. The young woman was insatiable, and they went every day to the cave. One day, as he lay cradled between her thighs, his organ deep in her belly as she arched once again in a shattering climax to her arousal, he chanced to see a yellow glint in the earth. As she arched high and screamed out her release, he too, was overcome with passion, and filled her belly with his seed as he had so often in the past. The woman slept for a time, refreshing herself for another session of pleasure before they returned to the village, and he also pretended to sleep. When the young woman's breathing became deep and regular, he rose and investigated the glint. A slight amount of digging revealed two small figures of large breasted women, one made of gold and the other of silver. Slipping the two figures into his pocket, he returned to the young woman's side. She soon awoke, and reached immediately for his manhood. Quickly bringing him to an erect state with her able lips and soft hands, she straddled him and impaled herself over his engorged member, her flowing passage wetting her nether lips to an extent that he was completely engulfed by her first thrust. She rode him as a wild animal, small noises of passion murmuring from her lips as her eyes rolled back and she began pinching her nipples cruelly to heighten her pleasure. As he could take no more, and began to spurt, she shuddered, ground her mound into his belly forcing him so deeply into her that he felt the resistance of her womb, and then collapsed with a moan onto his chest. Shortly, they returned to the village, but he had not forgotten to memorize the way from the cave that he might find it again. When they arrived at the village, the captain of the trading boat announced that it was time to depart. After promising the village chief to return in a few months with more trade goods, they steamed for home. Six months later, the sailor found himself carrying trade goods to the same village. He looked for the young woman, but did not see her. As the trading session began, he looked up at the sound of a scuffle. The chief was dragging a woman heavy with child toward them. To his horror, the woman was the same with which he had lain on the prior trading mission. The chief screamed something at the her, and she pointed to the sailor. Strong arms held him as the chief approached. The chief picked up a trade machete, and as the sailor's right arm was extended by force, the chief severed it in one stroke. At this instant, the other's of the trading party opened fire with rifles and pistols and drove the natives into the forest. They hastily made their way to the boat and cast off. By virtue of the clean cut, a large amount of medical care, and luck, the sailor survived, but no captain would hire a one-armed sailor. Over a period of five years, he made his way to England as a cooks helper, livestock tender and by doing other menial work. For many years, he earned a living as a groom for the landowner, but the work was hard and the salary insufficient to pay for the ale and ladies he coveted. He eventually sold the two figures in order to obtain funds, and, when this bank was also expended, the sailor had realized that the location of the gold might bring more money than the artifacts themselves. This is when he approached the wealthy gentleman. Our benefactor was carried away with the prospect of more wealth, and organized an expedition to find the cave and bring away all the gold and silver to be found. Although twenty years had passed since the sailor last saw the treasure, the landowner believed it would still be secreted in the cave. Being twenty two years young, and ready to test myself against the world, I joined the expedition. The voyage to the mouth of the Amazon was uneventful, as was the outfitting and the trip up-river to the location on the crude map drawn by the sailor. We were steaming up the tributary that led to the village, when disaster struck. A large tree was floating nearly submerged in the rapid spring current, and went unseen by the lookout. The butt end crashed into the boat, bursting her planking and flooding her hold. I was fortunate to be on deck at the time, was thrown over the side by the collision, and managed to secure a small log to support me. The rest of the crew was not so fortunate. I never saw any of them again. I floated for days, it seemed, tormented by biting fishes and insects, until I released my hold and cast my fate to chance. I awoke in a dream, a dream of strange, brown skinned people in masks, a dream of a lighter skinned young woman, naked save for a bark apron, and a dream of horrible fear. I was in some type of grass and stick hut. A fire burned beside me, and the brown skinned masks crowded around me, chanting in an indecipherable tongue. One very old man sat nearby, shaking a crooked wood staff with a feathered end. He was remarkable not only because of his great age, but also for the size of his manhood. The huge engine was erect and seemed as large as the member of a small pony. As the chant increased in volume, the old man approached, and pointed the staff at me. It was then that I saw that the staff was indeed some sort of viper, a viper somehow made rigid by the efforts of the old man. As the feathered head approached, the mouth opened, revealing a single fang, centered in the mouth. The old man began passing the viper above my body, and as I looked down to follow it's path, I came to the shocking realization that I was lying there completely naked. The old man spoke to the young woman, and she immediately knelt at my side. To my shock, she grasped my organ and began massaging it. In my weakened condition, she received no response to her ministrations, and looked at the old man in frustration. He again spoke to her, and she rose to walk to the side of the hut. She returned with a leaf upon which I saw a clear jelly of some sort. She began to apply this substance to my member, and to my shock, it became immediately erect. She then engulfed the swollen head between her lips and began to nurse as a child would it's mother's nipple. At once, my organ began to respond in a way that I had never experienced. The sensations were exquisite nearly to the point of pain, and I feared that, in my exhausted condition, they would cause my death. As she licked and suckled on the swollen head and shaft, a tension and a tremendous feeling of anticipation began to build in my loins. I was nearing the release of this tension, my body arching uncontrollably and my hips jerking up and down when the old man said something softly. She immediately stopped, and held my turgid organ upright. The old man lowered the viper-staff to the head, and the viper struck with lightening speed. The fang was imbedded deeply in the head of my organ, and I felt a second of incredible pain. Then, almost instantly, waves of immense pleasure and relief swept over my body as I began to spurt my seed, again and again. My body went rigid as the young woman again captured my organ in her mouth and began to suckle again. It seemed as if the waves would never subside and that my seed would never stop flowing. When I was finally spent, the young woman began a slow massage with more of the clear jelly. The last thing I remember was her mouth again moving over my length, the rise of incredible, uncontrollable feelings, and darkness as I spurted into those lips again and again. When I awoke, I was lying, still naked, on a reed mat under an open canopy, and I was tied hand and foot with coarse vines. The young woman was by my side, and seeing me stir, began to speak. Although I could not understand her words, her tone was soothing, and I lay still and watched. She called softly into the distance, and presently a second native woman appeared and sat beside me. She lifted my head to her lap and held her heavy breast to my lips. I did not understand what I was to do. I looked to the young woman, who pursed her lips and rubbed her stomach. Ah, she wanted me to eat, to eat from the woman's milk-laden breast. The thought was repulsive to me, and I sought to roll away, but found my condition so weakened that I could not move. As I looked back into the face that cradled my head, she gently squeezed her right breast, spraying milk into my mouth and over my face. The taste was pleasant and not at all disgusting, as I had assumed it would be. She placed the large, elongated nipple to my lips, and for the first time since my infant years, I nursed. I then found just how weak I had become, because after a few minutes, I could no longer draw the milk from her. She allowed me to rest, and then again placed the nipple to my lips. By this method, I consumed the first food in an unknown number of days, and by the time she left, I felt much stronger. This feeling was not to last for much longer, because as soon as evening fell, the young woman sat beside me, gently held my organ, and began to stimulate me to release. Upon my spending, she allowed me a short time to recover, and then began again. This treatment continued until I lost consciousness. This routine continued for many days. As I became stronger, nursing took less time and effort, until after my count of five days, I could drain both of my wet nurse's breasts in about an hour. She began visiting my sickbed three times each day. In-between my feedings, the young woman attempted to teach me her language. Since I had nothing else to occupy my time, other than my nursing sessions and the nightly treatments from the young woman, I learned quickly. After two weeks, I could converse on a limited level, and asked the young woman how I came to be in the village, and why I was tied. "I found you, nearly dead, on the river bank. Because my father was of your kind, I brought you to this village, and to the old wise one. He is older than anyone knows, and has many cures for sickness. It is said that he can bring the dead back to life, and I asked him to save you. The old wise one said that he might bring the life back to you, if you were strong enough to bear the vipers kiss. He came to look at you, and decided that since you are young and strong, you might endure the treatment. "The viper's kiss?" "The old wise one came to the Great River from far to the North with many of his people, in times older than ten generations. The people of that land were driven out by white-skinned Gods riding strange animals. The old wise one's people fled before any were killed, and traveled south until they reached the river. They learned to live with the river, but kept the medicine of their old home. One of these medicines is the viper with a feathered head. This viper was known as the source of life to the old ones. The vipers lived in a hidden cave, high on a hillside, and the location was known only to the wise ones of the people. When they fled, each wise one brought a feathered viper. The old wise one is the last of his people, and the viper is the last of those brought to the river." "Since the feathered viper is the source of life, it can return life to the dead, or to those almost dead. It does so by biting them with it's single fang. The fluid that comes from the fang restores life, but the viper must bite the root of life of the person, and the root must be extended as if making life itself. That is the treatment the old wise one gave to you, and you have returned to life." "Why am I tied? I would harm no one." She looked away for a moment, as if deciding if she should answer my question. "The viper's kiss does more than give life. One who receives the kiss of life from the viper is no longer a person. The person is transformed into a viper who walks on two legs, and can never die. The old wise one received the viper's kiss, and still lives after coming to the river so long ago. Nothing can harm the person with the viper's kiss, and you will live forever without changing the way you are today. It also makes the ability and desire to make life many times as strong as it is in ordinary people. Until you understand how to control this desire and ability, you are a danger to the village. Since nothing can harm you, we could not stop you once you start. Each night, I cause you to spend your seed with my hands and mouth to take away the desire that you can not yet control." I wanted to ask in what ways I had become a viper, but at that moment, my wet nurse appeared at our side, her breasts heavy with milk, and ready to feed me. She sat by my side, and I was proud to lift my own head and rest it on her thigh. My other caretaker left to do some other task. The woman lowered her breast, and I began to nurse. For some reason, I began to slide my tongue over the firm nipple as I sucked the life giving fluid. This simple action evidently disturbed the woman, because she began to move her hips in small motions. After a few minutes, the motions became larger, and I noticed a certain harshness in her breathing. I soon became aware of her hand brushing aside the small apron she wore, and then felt the hand moving against the back of my head. The hip motions increased, and she began to make small sounds. It was then that I noticed a change in myself. My organ had risen to full height. I had not had the strength to hold my head so high before today, and when I saw the swollen thing, I was taken aback. It's length and girth were as I saw possessed by the old wise one, but I had attributed that to my mental state. This time, I was in full possession of my senses, and was shocked at the gross size of the thing. Although I had not seriously considered fathering children, since I was yet too young to marry, I was in dismay at the sight, because such an engine would surely injure any woman if put to it's intended use. At that time, the young woman came back, and made a gasp of shock. She quickly fell to her knees and began massaging, licking and suckling on my member with such vigor that I quickly spewed forth my essence and lay exhausted once again. My wet nurse moaned and convulsed several times, calmly changed one breast for the other, and my feeding continued as if nothing had transpired. That afternoon, the old wise one began teaching me the ways of one who has had the viper's kiss. After a few days of his training, I was released and allowed to walk about the village, although the nightly treatments continued, and I was tied at any time the village slept. I spent the days learning the ways of the people. As time passed, I ranged into the fields and forest, and ultimately found the cave for which the original expedition had been formed. Kiss of the Viper It had obviously not been visited for many years, but after I threaded my way through the vines that covered the entrance, I found myself in a small cavern. I waited until my eyes had adjusted to the light, and then searched the small grotto. On one side, I discovered a small niche in the dirt wall. After digging in a small way, the dirt collapsed, revealing a second chamber, larger than outer one. Although I could not see far into the interior, what I could see took away my breath. Pots, jewelry and statues of gold and silver were crowded together from the entrance to as far as I could see. Here was a fortune larger than a king's ransom. I counted myself fortunate to have found the trove, and unlucky for not being able to do anything with the wealth. I resolved to take the treasure with me, or at least part of it, at such time as I should leave. I sealed the entrance to the inner chamber as well as possible, and then made my way back to the village. I arrived to find the village in flames and the population either gone or lying dead on the ground. I could not locate the young girl or my wet nurse. I could not identify many of the men, as they had been beheaded, and the heads had been carried away. The young woman had told me of another tribe that would, upon occasion, attack the village for goods and to take the women as slaves. I assumed that such was the cause of the conditions I now saw. My stay in the village lasted only one more day. I filled one of the village dugouts with food and as much of the treasure as would fit, and then pushed off into the river, allowing the current to take me towards the ocean. In two weeks, I arrived at the port to find a ship ready to sail for England. I had hidden the treasure in native baskets and bark cloth, and posed as a trader returning to England to sell my goods. I bartered a small figure of a jaguar for passage, and after a safe journey, I arrived in London. I quickly sold two smaller pieces to a private collector who asked no questions, procured secure storage for the rest, and rented an apartment in a lower-class portion of the city. On the second night of my return to civilization, I was taking a turn around the streets in search of a pub. I found a quiet inn with few customers, and sat with my pint of bitter, planning my next course of action. A woman of about forty entered the establishment, and all eyes, including mine were drawn to her. Sophi, as she was called by the other patrons, was as filled with fun and laughter as she was lacking in beauty. She was dressed in a flamboyant red dress with a low bodice that proudly displayed her ample cleavage. Sophi was obviously a lady who would, upon occasion, sell her charms, and after I bought her a half-pint of ale, she inquired if I would be interested in sampling her special talents. I was suddenly seized with such desire that, were it not for the teachings of the old wise man of the village, I would surely have embarrassed us both. As it was, I maintained my calm, but asked as to price and the location of the liaison. In an hour, I was introduced to her apartment over a milliner's, and Sophi wasted no time in conducting business. The door had hardly closed before she began removing her clothing. She soon stood before me naked and rubbing her breasts, making the nipples stand out long and hard. As I stood mute and motionless, she began removing my clothing. When she touched my member, I was startled out of my mental paralysis, and began touching her body. It felt so soft and yielding, and as I stroked and caressed, Sophi began to moan loudly. She led me to the bed, and pulled me down on top of her. My lips found a hard nipple, and I began to nurse, just as I had in the jungle. "Oh Sonny, you're very good at that. You're making my little kitty purr", she moaned. I inadvertently moved down slightly, and she gasped, "Yes, yes, Sonny. Give the little kitty a kiss. I like that." With that statement, she pushed me down her belly until my nose rested among the dark curls that covered her mound. As her scent reached my nostrils, a strange thing happened to me. I felt a tugging sensation in my upper lip. Sophi at that instant spread her legs wide and pushed me down a little more. The scent was stronger, and images of ancient rituals with feathered vipers and naked young women flashed in my brain. The visions continued as the women danced provocatively, bouncing their breasts and exposing their nether regions. Feathered serpents twined around their nubile bodies, sometimes sliding between their soft thighs, and then returning to coil around breasts, necks, and arms. My mouth involuntarily found Sophi's soft petals, and soon she was thrashing on the bed, moaning and arching her hips against me. The tugging sensation in my lip increased until I felt a sharp pain. The pain lasted for only an instant, and then I felt the needle sharp tip of a fang extending from my upper jaw. As Sophi began to convulse, I was moved by some force to thrust the fang into the firm, extended nubbin that protruded slightly from between her large lips. My mouth involuntarily tensed and I felt the rush of something through the fang and into Sophi's rapidly expanding little nubbin of pleasure. Sophi screamed as her entire body shook, humped, and thrust all at the same time. I glanced up to see her fingers busy on her nipples, stretching and rolling them in passion. As she gave an enormous thrust, liquid spewed from her passage and splashed on my chin. Another thrust and she wet my face again. The liquid was sweet with her scent, and served to increase my passion. "Now, God, now. Give me your pricker. I'm burning up. Please...give it to me hard." She pulled me up to her face, kissing me wetly as her fingers closed on my organ. She pulled the swollen engine to the entrance of her passage and virtually impaled herself over me. She was mad with desire, and pushed up against my thrusts. She was approaching the height of her passion again, and pulled at my hips to force me deeper into her body. Her wet passage began to ripple over my length, and I spewed forth at the same time as she convulsed and screamed, then spewed again and again until my seed seeped from between us. Sophi stopped moving for only a moment and then rolled me off her and on to my back. She behaved as if in a trance while straddling my loins and again impaling herself. She dropped over me quickly, the force of her weight pressing the head of my organ deep inside her to press against the end of her passage. In a flurry of moans and murmurs, Sophi rode me, sometimes up and down, sometimes arching to rub the now grossly swollen nub along my shaft, and sometimes fully impaled and moving her hips in a circular motion. Each movement took us both to higher levels of pleasure. Sophi leaned forward, her nipples waving before my eyes, and said, "Suck on them...no, bite them, I need you to bite them." I took each nipple in turn and suckled hard, and then bit gently. Each gentle nip sent spasms through her body. She was an automaton now, her mind adrift in a sea of emotions and feelings, and her body moving in the ways that increased those feelings. She did lurch and cry out as the fang pierced each nipple and injected the fluid, but after that, nothing could have stopped her save death. As we both peaked again and I spurted yet more into her wet, grasping passage, Sophi gave a cry, and collapsed on top of me. We lay there for minutes before I realized she was not breathing. I rolled her to her back and felt for a pulse. There was no sign of life in the naked body beside me. Her nipples were still extended and hard, and the small bud and soft lips between her open legs were still swollen, wet, and inviting, but Sophi was dead. I felt the fang receding back into my gum, and although I felt remorse, I was more amazed at the discovery of this phenomenon. This was why I had been tied in the village. This was why the old wise one had cautioned me to seek out a very strong woman should I decide to father children. I left the city the next morning on a boat to America. I now knew that my life would be filled with such instances unless I conducted myself with utmost caution. And so began my search for a woman strong enough to endure my kiss of the viper. Of course, my desire would peak from time to time, and I was forced to yield to my in-human instincts. I confined my activities to little known prostitutes in larger cities where their deaths would not be given much thought. Along the way, I discovered that I might control the amount of fluid injected by the fang, and was then able to spare most the death that always accompanied the ultimate pleasure. At times, however, my will was shattered by too long a period of abstinence, and the unfortunate woman expired. Those so unfortunate had their final minutes filled with passion and almost continuous release, and I believe most died experiencing ultimate pleasure. I was careful to move shortly after each of these incidents, and have never been questioned an any of the deaths. The examinations always indicated failure of the heart or stroke, and this is no reason to suspect anything but a normal expiration. Those women who survived the first injection would develop a craving for the fluid, even though they did not understand from where it originated. They would stay with me, always needing to be impaled on my large organ, and ever ready to answer my summons to satisfy my need. Knowing that as I became more at ease with them, I would eventually lose control, I would leave them after a few days out of concern for their safety. So has been my life since that day on the river. I had wealth beyond my capacity to spend, in part from the balance of the treasure which I returned to retrieve, and also from the wisdom in business I had learned over the many decades, but it seemed I was doomed to spend eternity alone, while causing the death of any woman with whom I lost control. I spend life as a collector and broker of antiquities, as this occupation allows me to move as frequently as dictated by the results of my desire. Having just made a trip to most major cities in the Americas in search of objects for my business, I visited this temple in Mexico for a short holiday, and in hope of discerning information about the creature that had caused my condition. Dinner that evening was very pleasurable. Isa was intelligent beyond her years, and was also filled with humor and gaiety. The meal was excellent, and the conversation stimulating. The thin, black dress that caressed Isa's ample curves made the sights of the evening also unforgettable. Over a cup of excellent coffee, we discussed the probable origin of the feathered serpent. Isa seemed very informed about all interpretations of the sculptures and their relevance to the supposed role of the temple in the ancient times. I was not able to offer much in the way of a scholastic viewpoint, but my opinions seemed to intrigue her. As we finished our coffee, she asked if I would accompany her to her apartments to see the results of her research to date. I agreed, but by now, I had determined to become intimate with this blonde beauty. I would hold back the fluid to test her strength, and as the days went by, would allow the amount to increase until it seemed dangerous to continue further. If she was able to survive, perhaps my search would come to an end. Isa's apartments held yet another surprise. The rooms were filled with artifacts the like of which I had not seen in many years of dealing with such items. While the various objects were somewhat like the ones I removed from the cave so many years ago, these were definitely older. I started to ask about their origin and manner of acquisition, but was interrupted by Isa. "I can teach you much about the feathered viper, but you would be interested in some other sculptures I have found." She led the way to another room, and I saw that, save for a large bed, it was filled with both stone and gold artifacts. Upon closer observation, I saw that all were depiction's of rituals involving women with large breasts and pouting nether lips from which protruded greatly engorged inner lips and pleasure nubs. There were also men depicted on the artifacts, and those not deeply implanted in a woman displayed huge male members with greatly swollen heads. These men were being manipulated by the women's hands and mouths. Above this scene on each artifact, the feathered viper was depicted. The sight of these ancient depiction's of carnal rituals began to stir my loins, and I began girding myself to resist the raging desire I knew would surely follow. I turned to ask Isa for an explanation of one of the pieces, but the words remained unspoken as I viewed the sight before me. A naked Isa smiled at my inability to communicate. "You are wondering how I managed to acquire these", she said as she walked sensuously toward me, "and why you have not seen such images before. My research led me to suspect that the Aztecs disappeared, not from extermination by the European invaders, but by simply moving away. I searched ever farther South, and eventually found ruins in the Andes. These artifacts came from burial caves in the area, and are the only such objects in the world. I think they could offer much insight into the role of the feathered viper, if I could only decipher their meaning. In the meantime, I find them rather stimulating. From appearances, this is also the case with you." Isa was standing close now, and as soon as she ceased speaking, her mouth covered mine in a very passionate kiss. As her arm found the back of my neck and pressed me to her, her tongue began searching for an opening between my lips. Unable to resist, I gave myself up to her advances. My hands found soft, yielding breasts with their long erect nipples, then cupped firm hips. A soft sigh slipped from her throat to echo against mine as her slender fingers found my growing organ, and massaged it through my trousers. She began to remove my clothing, and shortly, with as much assistance as I was able to render in my agitated state, I was soon holding her against my naked body. The hard nipples bored into my chest as our tongues explored each other, and I fondled her downy mound as she stroked my manhood to erection. Soon she broke the kiss and led me to the bed. Pushing me down, she fell on my massive engine with soft fingers and a warm, wet mouth, suckling, massaging, and causing great pleasure for me. I was soon preparing to spend, and Isa, understanding the extent of my condition, doubled her efforts. I was at the point of spurting my seed into her lovely mouth when I felt a sharp pain in the head of my member, a pain felt once before, so many years ago. As then, it was instantly gone, replaced by the violent surges of seed flowing through my member as my body shuddered and all senses save the touch of her hands and mouth were obliterated from my consciousness. After a time, the extreme pleasure began to abate, and I opened my eyes to gaze at Isa. She was sitting, one hand on her breast, with her mouth open in disbelief. "You are not dead? You still live? How can this be?" My answer was to gently pull her to the bed, position myself between her smooth, tanned thighs, and then bury my face in her swollen lips. As my tongue slipped along the rippled surface of the soft, wet inner lips, Isa gasped and arched her back. When I flicked my tongue over the very tip of her engorged button, she cried out, and pressed my face into her with both hands. My finger slipped between the lips into her passage, and curled up, finding the small, soft mass behind the bone. As I firmly caressed, Isa screamed, and then began to babble incoherently in soft tones. Her body responded to the touch of my fingers, lips and tongue as no woman had before, and as Isa began to rock her hips into my face, I lost the control I always strived so desperately to maintain. In moments, Isa was lost in the limbo of intense passion, her body reacting to my caress alone. With the skill learned over many decades, I lifted her to almost the peak of pleasure, then let the feelings subside for a moment before again raising the level of her excitement. With each lessening and then increase in stimulation, Isa reached new heights of pleasure, but I would not allow her to reach the end of the journey for many minutes. When I felt she could endure no more, I slowly allowed her body to achieve the release she so craved. As she began to stiffen her body to increase my contact with her, the fang slipped from its sheath behind my upper lip. Almost without my willing it, the fang sank deeply into the turgid center of her passion, and I allowed the full amount of fluid to flow into that throbbing organ. The impact on Isa was amazing. For a few moments she arched, suspended off the bed and mouthing unheard sounds. Then, gripping my face between her silken thighs, she cried out and began pumping her hips into me with a frequency I had not thought humanly possible. Isa cried out, again and again, such that, if I had not known the apartments to be fashioned of thick stone, I would have feared for our privacy. She convulsed with such force that it would have been difficult to maintain the pressure I was applying with fingers and tongue had her thighs not been clamped tightly around me. At last, Isa's movements began to subside, and her cries diminished to a soft, constant moaning and mewing. She continued this way for minutes as I continued my attempts at stimulation of her sweet tasting lips and passage, until at last, she sighed and relaxed. After a time, she opened her eyes and smiled at me. "Isa, I see that you also still live, even though I have never before experienced such an intense reaction to my stimulation of a woman. Perhaps this fact, and the sharp pain I experienced during your manipulation of my manhood mean that we have more in common than an interest in feathered serpents?" She began slowly, then as the words began to flow, relaxed and told her tale. It was very similar to mine. She had been researching in the Andes and had befriended the local natives. One day, she slipped and fell from a high outcrop, and when finally found by the village inhabitants, was near death. The natives respected and loved her so, that they requested the old healer to restore her life. She learned the story as it was told to me by the young woman so long ago. The events had taken place in her twenty-fifth year of life, and like myself, she had not aged since that date in 1893. She finished her story with an apology for her conduct, but explained that she too lost control because of abstinence. My answer was to place my lips to her nipple and suckle gently. When the fang pierced the swollen, wrinkled tip, I do not recall, nor do I recall most of the events of the rest of the evening. Suffice it to say that by morning, we both lay exhausted in each other's arms, my seed slowly seeping from her wonderfully soft, wet passage, and the taste of her sweet nectar still present on my lips. How many times the fang of the viper's kiss struck out at the root of life of both our bodies, we do not know, nor do we care to bother ourselves with the thought. It is enough to know that we found each other, and that the intense passion in each has found a willing and able recipient in the other. Daily, we discuss the possibility that others of our kind exist, and are searching for a means of identification other than the test of death we have both administered all too often. As of this writing, we have not discovered any anomaly in outward appearance, save the presence of greatly enlarged organs of pleasure, and one cannot politely examine another's body in search of these characteristics. Instead, we maintain careful watch over the news of the day for stories of unexplained death, especially the deaths of those women and men who's business is the provision of pleasure for profit. Kiss of the Viper It is also our theory that, deep in the Amazon, or high in the remote peaks of the Andes, more old wise ones may still live, and we plan to research this possibility soon. Our hope is that these aged healers may know of others who received the kiss, or could at least furnish additional information about the species we have joined. Our belief is that we are not alone. Surely, over the centuries the Aztecs existed in Mexico, and the subsequent years of their residence in areas further South, the gift was given to many. Our dream is of a colony of those such as ourselves, so that we may study our species as humans study themselves. There is so much to learn. We have not yet been able to produce young, but it is possible that other have been more fortunate. Perhaps, if properly administered, the fluid in our fangs can create others of our like from humans, and the species can reproduce in this manner. We have heard of those purported to be human who exhibit some of our characteristics, though all attempts at contact have been fruitless. Our search shall continue. There is no need for haste. After all, we have eternity through which to search, and if there are others of our species, they too will live through the ages with us. Should we be the lone members of our kind, we still have each other, and we have the intense pleasure conveyed by the kiss of the viper.