Chapter 1

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Historical, Polygamy/Polyamory, Prostitution, .

Desc: Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1 - I am accosted by a strange old man who ends up being much more than he appears as do the extraordinarily beautiful and sexy women he introduces me to. The first book of the Eternal Serpent's Tales series, it serves as the lengthy series' introduction.

"'Welcome to my parlor' said the spider to the fly," a voice echoed as deep and mysterious as the dark alley from which it came.

"Hunh?" I responded. Having stumbled out of a nearby basement bar called the Speakeasy my mind could have been sharper. Not that it's all that sharp when sober. Not exactly dull either. After all I had graduated that spring, a BA in Theater with concentrations in Playwriting and Acting and with a 3.3 GPA. The University of Hawaii isn't the most rigorous learning institution, so achieving that didn't necessarily represent razor sharpness. But my play had been accepted to workshop at ACT out of several hundred choices.

Attending the workshop placed my inebriated stumbling in the beautiful albeit cold summer night streets of San Francisco.

My lonely inebriation had been caused by the workshop, specifically another young writer in the workshop. Her lovely face, a wide oval with soft pale skin and sturdy slightly upturned nose and intelligent hazel eyes and a cute gap between her teeth revealed whenever she smiled her utterly unique smile--her thick lips stretching thinner and her head slightly tilting in an adorable expression of curiosity--and the waves of dirty blonde hair reaching just beyond her wide strong shoulders framing that loveliness captivated me instantaneously at our first meeting. And the two weeks since, noticing more of her, including her firm full butt and its sexy movement and the often braless perfectly moderate sized breasts that held themselves proudly and the lengthy nipples revealed occasionally making two tiny tents on her tight tops or torso hugging velour dresses increased her capture of my attention exponentially.

"Hi Joe," she had responded to my greeting after the end of the workshop earlier that day, a Friday, her adorable tilted smile causing my heart to shudder. It hijacked my nerves after I had attempted calming them for my daring moment.

"Uhm ... Uh ... Well," my tongue stumbled much worse than my alcoholic stupor caused my feet that night. "I ... uhm ... are you..."

That marvelous, infectious smile tightened and lost its existence in her eyes. And then two other playwrights, a shorter man who chose to wear impeccably tailored suits and colorful scarves as his identity, handsome and charming, and a tall, lean raven haired woman with a model's build and intelligent and intense blue eyes and tattoo swathed skin saved her from me.

"Ready Lindy?" asked Michael, the modestly statured pale skinned dandy with loosely curled short brunette hair that looked to be from a permanent.

Lindy turned to him and nodded, and before following behind the handsome couple glanced back at me with a shrug and saddened eyes as if saying, "I might have been with you if you had a backbone."

The fifth of our group, Serena, a pretty if chubby Mulatto with whom I spent the previous weekend mutually relieving sexual frustration, (Of course she had been the aggressor basically pulling me into her bed after an evening of clubbing. My shyness around relative strangers made it necessary.) the weekend ending with realization, at least on my part, of our sexual incompatibility, belayed hope that we could at least become friends when she actually laughed at my suffering. And she seemed so nice.

Swiftly walking, almost running, I rushed out of the ACT Theater space and began my quest for drunkenness, wandering from tavern to tavern with increasingly unsteady steps.

Like an actor appearing suddenly in spotlight on an unlit, opaque black stage as if by magic, the voice from the alley became a skeletal face, taut leathery skin defining the bones beneath, thrusting itself beyond the shadow of a building and into the yellowy cast of a street light. His grin only made his skin tighter. Tight wrinkles crinkled like parentheses around his wide mouth. Perhaps because of the tight skin, his eyes looked enormous and gazed at me intensely, black holes at the center. Maybe his sudden appearance compared more aptly to a snake head popping out of its hole. With his narrow nose curving back at the nostrils the elderly man looked more like a snake than any man I ever saw.

"Nickolas Postumus," his deep voice reverberated. A long narrow hand, age spotted and veiny appeared in the light stretching towards me.

"That's okay," I responded, refusing the offered shake. I wanted to bolt but my feet stubbornly held me in place.

His hand dropped but his grin remained. "It's Greek," he said.

"What's Greek?" I asked.

"The name. Spelled without the h. But I haven't always been. I've sloughed off several skins in my lifetime: Japanese, Celtic, African, even American Indian for awhile." He pulled himself completely out of the shadows and I saw a lean man in black denim who could look me eye to eye. Me being six and a half feet tall that didn't happen all that often.

"You?" he asked.

"Half Brooklyn Jew and half Missouri Southern Baptist," I responded.

"That's a story I bet," he chuckled.

"I guess," I shrugged.

"Waiting on somebody?"

"No unfortunately."

"That's a shame. A handsome young man like you looks all wrong without a sweet filly under his arm."

"Yeah," I replied. "I'm just too fucking chicken."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Walk with me son."

Matching his loping steps I walked beside him except when passing through crowds of fellow imbibers flowing out of closing bars as if regurgitated.

Eventually I asked, "Where are we going?"

"Does it matter?" he asked

"Not really."

"Didn't think so."

A couple of lopes later he asked, "What's your gig?"

"Oh, I write plays and act. I used to write poetry and I wanted my words to be said out loud."

"Whoa there young man," he said behind me, having stopped. I turned and caught his gaze before looking away losing the staring contest. "A writer, hunh?" he said at last. "Need some inspiration?"

"Don't writers always?"

He chuckled. "I got it in spades, kid. Interested?"

I thought about it. I realized it was the writer in me that got caught by the spider, that got swallowed whole by the snake. Being young has its advantages of course, but to me its greatest disadvantage, especially growing up suburban and fairly comfortable and without a lot of the friction of neediness or desperation at least in terms of the basics of food and shelter, there wasn't a heck of a lot of intense life lessons. It also put me in his grasp because I'm naïve as hell. Being without experience and shielded by comfort can get you that way. Being a little dull, a little slow on the uptake in realizing things probably didn't help. "Maybe," I smiled.

"Goddamn I knew this would be a night," he crowed. "Heard the stars been getting aligned and the moon's in Uranus," he cackled.

"Uhm, I'm straight," I gulped, remembering my naivety in full splendor when a non descript man befriended me in New Orleans and ended up luring me to his hotel room, his gadar broken I guess because I made a quick and easy exit.

"I'm not much for cornholing all that often kid unless it's a tight young filly with a dripping hole beneath it if you know what I mean."

I nodded remembering a one night stand where the girl actually preferred ass fucking though it might have had something to do with some problems inside her vagina like vaginal warts, but I preferred not thinking about that, dwelling on my first and only anal sex and the unique pleasure derived from it.

"It's just an old joke, son. You could be my son you know. I did a lot of damage over the years in all my wandering and you got my height and all.

"I kind of doubt it. My mom's not the cuckolding type and I've got my dad's bulbous nose unfortunately," I told him rubbing it.

We stopped outside an all night deli/grocery store. "Buy me a quart of malt liquor and a liverwurst sandwich," he ordered. "You got some money on you?" I tightened and he guffawed but his eyes narrowed. "If I wanted to rob you, I'd have you in my web in the alley no problem. No it's not about me alleviating you of your money, but a friend alleviating you of your frustrations."

He waited on the street. I got myself a corned beef on rye and ale and a couple hundred dollars spit out of the ATM they had inside.

"Are we going to sit and eat?" I asked when I returned with brown bag in hand.

"Almost there," he replied.

A block later he stopped in front of a nondescript door with a check cashing place on one side and a sandwich shop on the other, both shuttered, and pressed a button above a smudged name I couldn't read. I placed us in the Tenderloin only a couple blocks from my efficiency apartment and near ACT as well. I had gone full circle that night in my wandering.

He waited a couple minutes patiently. Finally a female voice through a small metal speaker asked "Yes?"

"Nick," said my curious new companion. And the door buzzed except it wasn't necessary as an overweight middle aged man with shirt tails untucked and short hair a bit wild held the door for us, his eyes failing to meet ours.

We trudged up two flights of stairs under naked bulbs, the boards complaining. He opened a frequently painted white door and I followed him inside. Once I passed through the door, entering a hallway with three doors along the wall across from the entrance door and one ending the hallway on my right, Nick locked the door with a deadbolt. He removed his black denim jacket revealing his black cotton shirt beneath and hung it on a hook by the door. I used a second hook to hang my black leather jacket revealing my blue and red checkered flannel shirt. I followed him into what turned out to be a combination kitchen/dining room/family room where I spotted a raven haired beauty with azure blue eyes sitting at the square, dark wood dining table. Brushing back her thick tangle of hair she frowned at me. I barely noticed what with her plentiful cleavage exposed by a loosely fastened burgundy robe, the nipples threatening exposure as well.

"Hey Snake," she said, then sipped at a deep red wine, its source a wine bottle with Greek lettering sitting near the center of the table.

"Helena, this is..."

"Joe," I told her and him as well, having never given him my name.

"I'll grab a couple more glasses," she sighed, rising from her seat and revealing her voluptuousness and her thick creamy thighs that emerged from her short robe near their top. Like her barely concealed nipples, her pussy lips or anything covering them threatened to be exposed. Joining Nick at the table, I watched the supple movement of her thighs that played beneath the robe and when she stretched for the cupboard to retrieve glasses, witnessed the bottom edge of a white cheek appear. It made my penis stiffen and elongate. She exuded pure sensuality.

When she turned, the bottom of her robe opened and I saw a tiny black triangle hiding her genitals. Looking up as she approached me to set down my glass, her frown had relaxed but only to reveal nothing, an expressionless beauty.

While pouring our wine the upper gap of her robe expanded and I saw the edge of a small areola, a deep brown. She sat and sipped and we sipped as well. The wine was rich with tannin and the tartness awakened my sense of taste.

"Delicious," I told her.

At last she smiled. "My mother's vineyard in Greece," she said. "Snake let me stay with her this past winter."

"Snake?" I asked.

"One of my nicknames," Snake told me with a shrug.

"He let you... ? She's your mother," I inquired.

"Genetically yes," she explained, "but it was the first time staying with her for any length of time since I reached my teens."

Snake changed the subject. "I take it Naomi and Betty are out?"

Her expressionless demeanor returned. "Yes. Betty all night. Naomi should be returning in a couple hours."

"Good. Good. And you?"

"Busy, Snake. It's Friday."

Just then her cell phone buzzed, rattling near the edge of the table. She glanced at Snake and he shook his head and she shut off the phone. And studied me.

Snake swallowed down his wine and grabbed the paper bag I had set by my chair and pulled out the sandwiches and the beers. The first sandwich encased in white paper he opened and handed to me. He opened his and began to eat.

"Want some?" I asked Helena.

"Yes please. I'll grab a plate." When she moved, I watched. Her body put a spell on me that resulted in hardening flesh and heightened senses. I smelled her sweet odor, a mix of natural and purchased musk that stirred me further. Handing me a serrated knife, she nodded when I placed it at a place on the sandwich giving her a little less than half. After the cutting she downed her glass of wine and I did also and she scooted her glass towards the quart bottle of local ale and I poured it full and filled my glass as well.

"I bet Snake didn't explain much," she said between bites.

I shook my head and smiled. "I have no clue what's going on."

For some reason she laughed deep and full throated and thrilling.

Snake smiled. "He's a writer, Helena. He's going to record my life."

With a nod, the laugh quieted, her reply came with a serious expression on her beautiful face. "A work of fiction because no one will believe it's true. You should have Naomi illustrate, make it even more salacious, put it in brown wrapping in the adult section as a graphic novel."

Continuing his reptilian smile, he nodded. "Good idea."

"So is he taking me in trade?"

"Only my percentage," he said.

She eyed me. "How much you got, Lover?"

"Uhm."

"Do you find me attractive?"

I swallowed my mouth full of sandwich, nearly choking on it. "Very."

"So how much you got?"

I pulled out my wallet and the twenties filling it and counted out fifteen and reported "three hundred" to her.

"Ninety minutes," she decided.

"Helena sweetheart," said Snake. "Let him stay the night. I want him to rid himself of his handicap. I'll make sure he pays you the rest."

She thought about it, taking inventory of my face and body. "Since you won't be taking your percentage, this will do," she decided. "You're decidedly cuter and younger. What's your handicap?"

"He pines for a woman but ain't got the balls to do anything about it," Snake explained.

One side of her lip lifted in a wry smile. "You'll be exuding confidence by the time we're finished, and with your cute face and tall body and splendid cock it promises, you'll have no problem having her eat out of your hands or you eating out of her pussy. You like pussy, don't you?"

"I love it," I replied.

"Smart man. Let's get you clean." She took my hand and led me down the hallway to the bathroom.

An old tub sat on claw feet. She twisted the handles for both hot and cold and her hand measured the heat under the faucet until satisfied. I gazed at the robe showing her round butt and the curve of her waist as she bent over. From a small tub side wicker table she grabbed a couple squeeze bottles and squeezed a small amount of liquid from each into the bath water. I could smell one contained bath oil perfuming the air with a subtle lavender odor. From drawers under the sink cabinet she extracted an unopened toothbrush, a fresh disposable shaver and from the medicine cabinet some shave cream bringing the shaving equipment to the small table. Removing her robe, I gasped at the perfection of her tear drop shaped breasts, tiny nipples surrounded by small dark brown areolas and beneath a soft pale belly with just enough fat to create a small circular hill with a dainty crater of a navel. She looked so seductively touchable. And the way her waist curved in demonstrably between broad hips and chest, I imagined holding her at her hips as I pummeled her from behind.

Her petite hands positioned on those pronounced hips exactly where my lengthy hands imagined holding her she gave me an impatient but smirky look. "Well? Let's see what nature gave you my tall friend."

Kneeling on the bathroom rug she unbuckled, unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. I unbuttoned my shirt with hurried clumsiness. She noticed. "I guess grace will be part of my instructions."

"I'm just a little nervous," I explained.

"And eager," she smiled, placing her hand on the curving roll my cock created under the Jockey underpants. "Nice," she purred before kissing it and placing her forehead on it and untying my sneakers. Lifting each foot, I held onto the counter to let her pull off the shoes and socks and then again when I removed naked feet from the jeans pooled around my ankles. She stood and hung the jeans over her robe. I added my shirt to the hanging lump of clothes.

Again she knelt in front of me and again she kissed the curving hill created by my cock before pulling down the barrier and letting it unfurl. "Mmm," she purred. "A handsome soldier."

Standing, she wrapped her arms around me letting me feel her softness and the sharpness of her nipples when she pulled me against her body, my cock pressing at her tummy. Pulling my head lower she arched against my torso, her feet resting atop mine, and whispered hotly into my ear, "You're lovely, Joe. No woman could resist you."

Detaching herself from the hug, she commanded with a gesture towards the tub, "Get in."

Tentative at first, I discovered the heat around my toes to be perfect, just hot enough to be a little uncomfortable. I climbed in with my back opposite to the faucet. It was a deep enough bathtub so the edge came to just below my nipples and long enough so that my feet rested their bottoms on the faucet side.

Settled in comfortably I watched her remove her black bikini panties, the gusset resisting momentarily before separating from her pussy revealing a neat narrow rectangle of soft curly raven hair and beneath surprisingly thickened, puffy pale reddish purple lips that shone in their dampness.

"That's right, Joe," she purred, rubbing that dampness and tasting her own flavor. "You turn me on too." Carefully and gracefully climbing into the tub she continued, "You have a lean body, not aggressively muscled, but subtle and comfortable and delicious." Wetting a washcloth, she squeezed soap into it that smelled of mint and began rubbing it against my shoulders with deeper pressure than expected, massaging as she scrubbed. "With the physical gifts you possess and a bright mind, you only need the kind of confidence you have in writing to let your girl know of your desire and you will have her."

Shaking my head I argued, "But ... When I write I have time to pause and think."

"Nonsense," she said, working at my subtly muscled pecs. "The thoughts are there. You are very prepared. Just let your voice write instead of your fingers. Let the air be your paper. You have the confidence to call yourself a writer. Use that confidence to speak and communicate your desire. Just like in the end you let the words flow onto the page in the moment, let your words flow unimpeded into the air."

"Like Zen," I said. "Like acting. All the preparation sits behind the work when said in the moment, and you let those words come without self-consciousness."

"You have experience with this?" she asked, the cloth working my face.

My eyes closed, I responded. "Yes, I write plays and act. I find if one wishes to write plays one must experience acting. Otherwise it's what's called an armchair playwright and the words become stilted."

"I bet you're weakest at improvisation," she said.

"Mmm-hmm," I replied with the cloth crossing my lips.

"Confidence," she whispered into my ear, her nipples scraping at my chest. "You are as good at the moment of speaking as you are at your desk. Stand up."

She worked the cloth over my abdomen and my legs avoiding the mauve headed beast that pointed directly at her. At least the cloth avoided it. Her lips and tongue did not, making me hum in pleasure with each occasional lick or kiss.

"Turn around," she ordered. The cloth worked my back and the back of my legs until they ended up thoroughly cleaning my small tight butt. "I like it," she purred as she massaged the cheeks. "It's just soft enough to play beneath my fingers."

I groaned in agreement, louder when a finger worked my anus while the cloth gently washed my scrotum.

"Turn around," she ordered and immediately worked the soapy cloth up and down my shaft. Soon abandoning the cloth, her mouth did the cleaning of my glans and upper shaft while her fingers tugged at my base. It didn't take long for her to bring me to the edge.

"I'm going to cum," I groaned in warning.

"Not yet," she smiled and squeezed the base until the urge to surge cum lessened.

She pulled a hair from her mouth. "Let's take care of that," she said. "Trust me?"

She leaned back and grabbed a pair of small scissors. I nodded. She trimmed away my chaos of light brown pubic hair and then applied shaving cream and shaved above my cock while holding it's hardness with the other hand.

"Hold it up," she ordered and I pressed it against my abdomen as she applied lather to my ball sack, stretched it and shaved. My nervousness almost ended my erection. It flagged a little.

"You've done this before?" I asked.

"Nope." She giggled at my tensing. "But I watched my sisters."

"Sisters?" I asked.

She shushed me and giggled. "Oops, ' she said and guffawed at my tightened body while cleaning the razor in the bath water and twisting her body to drop it onto the table. "Fucking with you Joe," she said wiping the cream from my genitals with the cloth. "Sit down. You get to wash me next."

"I should spank you," I said settling back into the tub with surprising grace.

"Maybe later," she purred, her hand rubbing across my chin. She grabbed the shave foam again. "I'll be good," she smiled and applied it to my face and neck.

"Better be," I grumbled and she giggled and kissed my bulbous nose. I actually felt more comfortable with her wielding a blade at my neck having witnessed her shaving my most delicate and difficult place before.

"Done," she announced, cleaning away the foam.

"You want me to shave you?" I asked.

"I'm waxed. No need," she said. I wasn't sure if I felt relieved or disappointed. She read me and chuckled. "I'd let you for fun, but it stimulates the follicles."

She handed me the cloth and turned and rested her back against my front. I kissed her earlobes and her neck as I cleaned her front, spending more time than necessary at her breasts, weighing them and enjoying their softness and resilience. Both my cloth occupied hand and my bare hand squeezed and teased them and the nipples that tightened to tiny buttes above her crinkled areolas.

"Oh, so good," she murmured softly and moaned and deepened her breathing.

When I finally left those divine mounds, her fingers took over pleasuring them. Her other hand reached beneath her and found my hardness and pressed it against her pussy lips, rubbing it against them and shifting her hips subtly up and down to intensify the pleasure of the contact.

Once I finished with her belly, she lifted a leg from the water for me to wash it. She had smallish legs which tapered from thick and soft and subtly muscled thighs, a natural progression from her wide hips and voluptuous ass, to less thick calves to dainty ankles and cute little feet. I washed all of it to her toes before she dropped it and raised her other leg and I repeated my washing. Leaning forward, she brought her back to be washed which I did from her neck to her waist. Through all of this she continued manipulating her nipples and rubbing her cunt lips against my cock.

As soon as I finished she stood quickly, the water becoming greatly disturbed and some of it spilling onto the bathroom floor. "Clean my ass and my pussy," she moaned leaning forward and opening herself to me as much as possible in the narrow space of the tub, her fingers rubbing desperately at her clit and pulling on her nipples. "Then suck me to ecstasy!"

I could have teased her but I wanted too much to taste her so I quickly washed her butt and anus and her genitals with her fingers still strumming. I only used one hand because the other jacked my cock. Tossing the cloth aside, I kneeled on the rubber mat at the bottom of the tub and grabbed her ass with both hands, pulling the cheeks open and rammed my tongue into her effluent cunt.

I couldn't believe the heat in it. My tongue stabbing in and out, my nose pressed against her anus as the space between my lower lip and chin pressed against her pubic bone near her clit. She hummed with pleasure, her fingers pulling her nipples out from her body and twisting them. My tongue moved from thrusting to exploring, circling around the lips and plunging into her anus where I stroked several times before taking another lap and plunging anally again. She squirmed so I held her buttocks tightly keeping her in place.

"Don't tease me," she moaned. But I continued the circles and the anal plunges until I returned to the original tongue fucking, my nose teasing her anus and the place between chin and lower lip pressing closer to her clit.

"Please," she moaned and writhed trying to guide me to her needy place. At last I obliged and my tongue tip scooped across her clit.

"Ungh" she groaned. And when I pressed that place between my chin and lower lip against her pubic bone and my upper lip curled around her tiny lump and my tongue tip lashed at it and my hands released her butt cheeks and my middle finger slipped past my mouth and entered her quim and found the textured area of her g-spot and another finger pushed into her anus and then I sucked, her whole body undulated as she cried out "Oh! God!" Her legs shaking threatening collapse, I removed my hands from their pleasuring duties and pulled her tighter against my face firmly gripping her thighs.

When I tasted her delicious sweet and musky nectar spilling gently from her quivering cunt, my pressing mouth and anus penetrating nose and my tongue slowing its action on her clit coaxed the longest orgasm possible out of her without threatening to overtax her sensitivity. And the seconds it took for her to pull away from my attention attested to some success.

I helped her collapse into my lap. Managing to turn around and face me, she looked at me dazed and happy, a goofy smile plastered on her gorgeous reddened face. "What's wrong with you?" she muttered. "Why are you keeping this from this girl? You're cruel."

Reaching behind her, she pulled the plug. "Turn on the taps," she ordered. I adjusted the heat. She pulled a lever and the hand held shower nozzle poured over us. We stood and she held onto my cock, rubbing it as we showered off, her other hand grabbing a fresh washcloth and handing it to me. I rubbed her body until I stopped to cum. Her hand catching a spurt, she tasted my semen. "Bitter but good," she pronounced. "And you had a few beers."

I chuckled and nodded. "You're amazing."

Taking the washcloth, she rubbed away the soapy layer on my body. "You're pretty fucking amazing yourself," she responded seriously.

"You know I've never done this before," I said, which caused a surprised look on her face. "I mean I've never paid for it."

She shrugged. After drying each other, I used the brand new toothbrush while she tickled my cock to nearly full expansion, then led me with it to her bedroom where I got more than my three hundred dollars worth of her.

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