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I am sitting in my girl's college dorm room, listening to "Genie in a Bottle". Who still plays that? What was that, early 2000's? Apparently the answer to that question is Stacy's roommate, Rebecca. I still wonder why Stacy wasn't in a sorority like the rest of the blonde bitches you see around campus.

And I mean that literally, since she is a Golden Lab. We make the perfect couple, a big dicked Rottweiler like me, blonde bombshell on my arm. I make the other guys squirm with envy. Damn girl belongs at frat parties, not stuck here with some randomly assigned girl from Florida. Still, Stacy is worth waiting around for, even when she is habitually late for our dates.

"She might be a little late," Becca explains, lying on her bed as she moves her body to the music. And I'd never seen anyone dance quite like her. Sure I'd seen some weird people around, but she is, I kid you not, a Python. I don't even know how you do classes when you don't have hands to write with, and she always slithers everywhere completely naked. If you saw her in the wild, you'd never know she isn't a feral. She weighs a little more than me, which is usually a deal-breaker in girls, but it isn't because she was fat. She is just big. Her dance consists of swivelling her belly so the shiny scales dance in the dim light of the room.

"What music is this?" I ask, gruffly.

"Dude, it's my 1999 playlist. That was the best year!" she explains.

"Man, the Black Eyed Peas weren't even a thing then," I complains.

Becca says, "Whatever, man. This stuff just carries me away."

I sit on Stacy's bed, turning on her television to watch a little reality T.V. while I wait. Becca turns the music up, so I just sit closer to the screen, flicking my ear.

The next song is "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys. Is she a fourteen-year-old girl? I try to concentrate on the house-flipping show, but it is a little hard with that music. Those damned lyrics burn into my head:

Tell me wh-y (Ain't nothin' but a heartache)

Tell me wh-y (Ain't nothin' but a mistake)

Tell me wh-y (I never want to hear you say)

I want it that way

As if that weren't bad enough, Becca is now singing along. I am just about to get up and wait for Stacy outside when I feel the Python slither up beside me, singing,

Am I your fire?

Your one desire

Yes I know it's too late

But I want it that way

I glance over to see her face, just a few feet away from me, looking straight at me with her dull brown scales. I blink, noticing that part of her body is curled up on Stacy's bed, as she sings to me. Is she hitting on me?

No matter the distance

I want you to know

That deep down inside of me

You are my fire

She isn't exactly my type. And besides, I'd been pretty loyal to Stacy other than a few drunken flings. But I have to admit, I've never been with a snake. I look into her eyes and I can swear I _saw_the fire in them she was singing about. I put a hand on her shoulder; er, her...body? As the music is wrapping up, I say, "Just how long will Stacy be?"

Becca laughs. "An hour or two."

I glance down her body, the interlocking patches kind of mesmerizing. Am I really thinking about fucking my girl's roommate? Becca certainly isn't a looker, but I'd been known to pity fuck bitches before.

The next song is one I hadn't heard, but it starts right up anyway, with Busta Rhymes singing,

Baby just tell me just how you feel, how you feel

We living it I'm just giving it to you real, baby c'mon

Ev-erytime we crossing the borderline

Be giving it to you making you feel fine, turn the heat up

Better believe we gon' shine, make your body wind

Now I'm not imagining things. Becca slides further into the bed with me, coiling alongside me, her firm body pressing up against me. She is still dancing to the music when she answers Busta Rhyme's question. "Damn I love this song," she sas, and after she sings 'tell me just how you feel', she adds, "I want you, Brad."

My mouth is dry. I slide my hand along her smooth scales. She isn't ugly so much as exotic. She grins as the next part of the song comes up and she says, "This is my favorite part," and sings, joining Janet Jackson,

Gonna make, gonna make, gonna make your body wet

Gonna make, gonna make your body scream out yes

Gonna make, gonna make you think of naughty things

Like me on you and you on me

What's it gonna be

"What about Stacy?" I stammer. I don't want my girl to find out!

"I won't tell her if you won't," the snake purrs.

Well shit - it wouldn't be the end of the world if she were to find out anyway. I can also get that Pomeranian in French class that is always sniffing after a nice, big Rottie like me. I lean back on the bed to watch Becca slither most of her body up there with me. "What now?" I ask.

She smiles. "We go wherever the music takes us."