FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The occupants of your new neighbourhood seem nice enough, if a little busy and distracted. Some of them acted like they hardly had time for your greetings or your gifts, despite your best pleasantries. Maybe it's a little old-fashioned of you, but you wanted to make sure you got off on the right foot with everyone. There's nothing worse than having a neighbour you don't get along with, after all. Well, maybe a few things are worse, but either way, you don't see the harm in sharing around some fresh-made cookies with the people you'll be spending you'll be seeing often. It's not until you were almost done your trip down the street that you notice one last home, resting atop a small hill, up a winding path flanked on either side by a plentiful, healthy garden of roses and herbs, the fresh scents wafting into your nose even from afar. You can't help but be curious at who might be dwelling in such a lovely, if humble cottage, even if the location of their home implies they prefer a little isolation.

The path is a crooked one, winding to one side, then the other, seemingly inefficient when a straight line would get you there faster. Still, you follow along, treading lightly, just to be sure you don't stomp all over some hidden flower or plant. Getting closer introduces you to an even sweeter scent pouring out the open window, some sort of exotic dessert your don't immediately recognize. It's mouth-watering. Not that you expect a bit, but you have to wonder what's being made in there. Yet even for all your eagerness, you still find yourself slightly hesitant when you get to the front door. It doesn't help that it's such a big one, a great big entrance twice the size of a normal house's doors, maybe meant for someone enormous. There's only one way to find out, and you raise your fist to give three solid knocks, letting anticipation tingle through your body as you wait for a response.

You don't hear any footsteps, but there's another distinct sound you can't miss. Something is hissing. At first you wonder if it's steam rushing from a broken pipe, but there's something far too natural, far too organic for it to be something like that. And it's big. The sound overwhelms, even through a door, filling you with an immediate sense of dread for what's on the other side. Maybe you've disturbed the wrong neighbour. Maybe there's still time to turn around and get back to your own home before they see you. But the last thing you want to do is sprint off and stumble into a thorny rosebush or such. Gripping the mostly-empty container of cookies tightly, you hold your ground, trying not to bite your lip too hard as the door swings open in front of you. You were right to worry.

Clutching a rope handle in her jaws, then pulling back and rising with her hood inflated i the biggest cobra you've ever seen. A golden figure in desert tones, they glare down at you with an expression you can only read as stern and intimidating, if not threatening. They're not displaying their fangs, but they are flicking their tongue in your direction, tasting the air of your presence. Maybe to determine how you might taste - or maybe they can just sense the cookies you've brought with you. Either way, you're struck dumb, as if already paralyzed by venom, wishing you could get a better look of all those bulky coils, but you're far too caught up staring into the golden eyes that regard you up and down. Is that disdain, indifference, or mere curiosity across the serpent's face? Even such a neutral expression remains mesmerizing, as if exercising some arcane power over you with little more than a glance.

The only thing that can break you from that rising stupor is the sound of the snake's voice, the warm and husky tone of an older woman. One word, and you're already feeling much more comforted, following along with the rest as you visibly relax your tense muscles.

"Good afternoon. Is there something I can help you with?"

Your eyes stray to her fangs while she speaks. It's only a glimpse, but you can already spot them, curved and sharp, longer than your fingers, or maybe your whole hand. You can't help but wonder how venomous she is. Maybe there's an obvious answer to your question. She's a cobra. Of course she's extraordinarily deadly. For a moment you find yourself wondering if it's even safe to be near her, but the kindness of her welcome puts such things out of your mind. Though you're still left fumbling for words, forgetting for a moment why you came there in the first place.

"Uh ... oh, right! I've just been going around the neighbourhood, meeting everyone I can. I just moved in down on one-oh-four, down the street and ... do you like cookies?"

You're pretty sure she's smiling, though it's mostly with her eyes. Her hood remains inflated, framing her elegant head, partly relaxed along with the rest of her body. She's far too long to rise up to her full height within her modest home, so much of her is accumulated around a living room decorated with numerous colourful paintings, their varied palettes almost too bright in contrast to the serpent's copper scales.

"I certainly do," she asserts, a flick of her tongue following her words. "Would you like to come inside?"

As much as you know you shouldn't let such shameless thoughts enter your head, it's not like she can read your mind, right? Though maybe the blush on your face, or the look in your eyes says enough. She probably didn't mean to phrase it in a way that sounded so suggestive, and you probably should just brush off such a thing without a second thought, but the image is starting to form in your head. That massive serpent, so powerful, so dangerous, and now, so enticing. You never realized until that moment just how much you like the way she moves, the way those coils stretch and flex for something as simple as slithering out of the way to offer you entry to her small, cozy residence. There's really no choice but to accept your offer.

"I would!" you blurt, maybe a little too abruptly, making up for it by introducing yourself.

"Ah, of course. I am Thastillith - or Thast, to spare your tongue. I will fetch some tea in a moment."

You almost want to say that such a thing isn't necessary, but there's something insistent about her tone that keeps you from arguing. Instead, you take a seat on a nearby cushion, one located in front of a low table decorated with scented candles, faintly flickering as they burn down to stubs. It's the middle of the day, and the air outside is still warm and mild, but from the moment you entered your home you've been left with a sense of relaxation, of stress just melting away in the slightly smoky confines of her lovely living room. Plus, there's a whole assortment of little treats on the table, and after brief consideration, you go right ahead and help yourself to a sweet, nut-topped biscuit, chewing as quietly as you can. Everything you do seems so loud, all of a sudden. All of your rustling, even your breathing seems so noticeable, compared to the quiet surroundings, where the smallest sounds feel so much more emphasized. From the distant rumbling of a kettle, to the faint crackle of the candles, or the soft hiss of your host, it's such a sensory experience to dwell with her.

Though her upper half is in the kitchen preparing some sweet-smelling tea, the rest of her is still in the room with you, coiled up in a spiral, stacked halfway to the ceiling. You almost want to say that her home seems too small for her, but she seems comfortable occupying such a modest space. When she returns with a steaming teapot dangling from a short rope handle, clutched between her lips, you immediately light up once more to see her return. And there's that blush again. You hope it's not as visible as it feels, but your cheeks are blazing. Just a few minutes alone with that serpentine beauty, watching the way the candlelight reflects on her golden scales, and you're absolutely taken with her, flooded with thoughts of being just a little closer to her. How would that even work? You're not certain, but when she draws near to pour you a cup of fresh, aromatic tea, you can't help but notice how good she smells too.

"Thank you," is all you can think of to say.

You sip your tea, watching her over the brim of the steaming beverage, observing how she does it. She's very good with her mouth, and even her tongue, able to manipulate objects much smaller than her with slow, deliberate movements. Soon, she's lapping at her own drink with a few flicks of her forked tongue, a little splishing sound ringing through the room. You wonder if she might mind if you call such a thing cute. That's the first word that pops into your mind, though your thoughts turn more erotic as you watch her swallowing, her scales slightly distending with the motion, the hot drink filling her to the core. Your natural curiosity kicks in, and before you know it you're breaking the peaceful silence with a sudden question that you can't help but feel is a little rude, even as the words spill out of your mouth.

"You must get awfully chilly, all alone here in the colder months." You immediately feel flustered, but rather than go silent, a terrible whim seizes you and you double down. "But maybe you know some good ways of warming up."

She moves very slowly to set her cup down, carefully balancing it until it clinks down on a coaster. You're left frozen as she regards you for a time, tilting her head to one side. Maybe that's a smile on her face, or just the natural curve of her lips, but either way, you're staring back, not even daring move, as if you expect her to strike at any moment. You can tell she's come to a conclusion when you see the light in her eyes grow brighter, a tiny fire illuminated within her golden gaze.

"At the moment, I am quite comfortable. But - if you are feeling cold, I would be happy to wrap you up."

She glances away as soon as she finishes saying it, pursing her lips. It's a strange thing to see, watching such a huge, elegant snake looking so shy about her own flirting. You want to do everything in your power to reassure her, but you also don't want to move too quickly. The atmosphere is too thick, too cozy for anything drastic. Instead, you just set your own cup down and give her a comforting smile.

"I'd like that a lot, Thast. You really are just ... a gorgeous snake."

She turns back to you with a warm look on her face. "I thank you for saying. I don't expect many to be interested in some like me. But since you entered ... there has been a spark, hasn't there?"

"There has."

"Very well then. Come closer."

That was exactly what you wanted to hear. You can't help yourself, after such an invitation. She's a great big scaly bed, and you have to feel her against you. While you don't go quite so far as to strip out of your clothing right away, you don't waste time getting over to her, feeling as if you're being tugged along by some physical force, when really it's just her hypnotic allure. Not that she's really hypnotizing you. You're sure your mind is your own as you settle with a happy sigh against her thick coils, brushing against her scales. Even through your clothing, they have such an interesting texture against your skin, one that has you rubbing back and forth just to enjoy the feeling a little more, with no regard to how forward it might be. You're lost in your own sensations, and soon, in her embrace.

Maybe you shouldn't be so intimidated by her squeezes. She's not a coiling snake after all. Though the thick muscular flex against against your body lets you know that probably doesn't matter. She's most definitely strong enough to crush you, which is why it's all the more enchanting to feel the way she so gently coils you up and holds you there, wrapped up tight but safe, able to breathe just fine as she holds you close. She's not as cold to the touch as you thought. Maybe that's just your own body heat radiating outwards, your heart beating rapidly as your excitement grows. Of course you're hard, to be handled so tenderly by such a lovely serpent. And that means she knows you are, pressing up tight, her underbelly gliding between your thighs as you bask in each other's touch and sensations for a while, listening to the huffs and hisses that result from the intimate closeness.

Your arms are pinned lightly to your sides, but not so firmly that you can't wiggle them free from her coiling hug. That's good, because you need them. There's so much of her to touch, to stroke and admire, that you hardly know where to start. You just pick a spot, and set to rubbing, massaging your way along her textured scales, feeling the way some of them flex, and some of them remain solidly unyielding under your attention. Neither of you are speaking anymore. She communicates only in hisses, an extended, slightly wet sound that's constantly emanating from her. It doesn't sound hostile. It's almost like a purr, a soothing sound that your can feel lapping over you, encouraging your every touch, keeping you exploring as much of her body as you can reach. Which is only a small fraction of her total length, given how definitively she holds you in place, wrapping you from shoulders to ankles, hardly allowing more than a wiggle.

All the rubbing and grinding has you firm, even throbbing against her, but you can't take your attention off her face. Such wise and affectionate eyes, vigilant, never blinking, and such elegant scales decorating a warm and kindly face. A regal serpent like her deserves a crown, or so you think. Her hood only accentuates her golden features, making her look more like a statue than a living things when she holds still enough. But then there comes the flick of her pink tongue, reminding you she's living flesh, and you follow the movements of that forked appendage with your eyes open wide. She surely notices your gaze, but she doesn't seem to mind, even when your fascination compels you to reach up and touch, before you even think about what you're doing. Your fingers glide along her lips, soon she answers in turn with a lick of your palms. It's a subtle gesture, but it still leaves you pleasantly shuddering all over, your motions partly suppressed by her grip.

Her eyes meet yours, and you can't help but stare right back. There's something more intense in her gaze than before. You feel as if you're saying a thousand things, even while you remain silent, your thoughts spilling out for her to see as you admire her tongue, and think of what it might feel like to touch her fangs. She seems to know exactly what you're thinking, teasing you with the prospect, slowly parting her lips to let her hisses spill more thickly through the room, giving you a light breeze of her sweetened breath like wildflowers. A little wider, and you can get a good look at her deadly fangs, those curved blades meant to deliver a phenomenally toxic venom. Even the danger isn't enough to keep you from reaching up to touch. Maybe it's what compels you in the first place.

"I know that look. You want to see. And to touch. Be careful not to prick yourself," she advises, her mouth partly open, but the words still clear.

You were already aroused. Turned on. Whatever you want to call it. But at your first stroke of the cobra's fangs, that's when you're pulsing, dripping, desperately horny. Something about it just thrills you to the core, brings you into a state of need unlike any you've ever felt before. She opens a little wider for you, letting you peer into the depths of her maw, at the folds and details. From the rounded shape of her glottis, then off to tenderly touch all her little teeth. You even stretch your fingers out and dare reach towards the back of your throat, and she responds with a short swallow. All it does is drag some saliva down her throat, letting you watch the muscles flex and bulge, squeezing together only to loosen again, revealing the dark void once more. You stare for a while, compelled by the natural draw of the oblivion that awaits there. Your fascination must be obvious, given the way she starts whispering to you once she closes her mouth around your forearms, holding your hands inside a while.

"You know, I could swallow you whole without much trouble. One, maybe two gulps. Then you'd be all mine."

She draws her tongue between her your fingers, one by one, while you just shake there against her body. It's not terror that has you quivering like that. It's more - you've imagined words like that, being spoken to you. But you never thought you'd actually hear them out loud, plucked out of your deepest fantasies. Maybe she's just teasing, knowing you'd like it. Or maybe she's serious. It takes a while for you to even meet her gaze as she pushes your hands back out and licks your face, giving you a fond, gleaming stare that remains as unblinking as ever. When you don't say anything, she just goes ahead and keeps going.

"Of course, if you give me a good reason not to, maybe I'll just steal you away, and keep you all to myself instead. How does that sound?"

You wish you could find the right words, but all you can manage is a silly look on your face, one that comes complete with with a quivering lip. You're still not afraid, or so you like to think. Something tells you she wouldn't really do that to you. But she certainly could, and that's what matters. You're being squeezed and slurped by a deadly serpent, one who probably outweighs you several times over, one who could render you helpless with merely a tight clamp of her scales, or the tiniest nibble. You watch her tongue as she withdraws, her mouth open as she drags the tip along the curve of one of those fangs. Such a thing looks liable to harm her, but she gets it just right, instead coaxing out one single drop of something clear and scentless. Her breath still wafts sweetly in your face, and her hiss creeps into her voice as she utters a firm and breathy command.

"Kiss me."

She says it with a flutter of her hood, fanning it out and almost seeming to snarl a moment as her eyes flash with predatory potency. You flinch. It's something you can't help, and you immediately regret it, just to see the way she slumps and flattens her hood, making you immediately regret not holding steady. That fearsome look in her eyes falters, and you reach out for her as she sputters out a hasty apology.

"I am sorry. That was too much. I know that sometimes people like -"

"No," you tell her, and firmly. "I love this. All of this. Come here."

Your heart is already throbbing hard before you ingest her venom. You don't actually taste it at all as she you slip forth and let her tongue press past your lips and onto yours. But it's definitely there. A suckle and a smooch, pressing your mouth against her lower lip, soaking in her hisses while you meet deeply and embrace as best you can. Eventually, you swallow, and you can already feel it having an effect. A shock of numbness passes through you at first, your jaw relaxing, your head spinning, your whole body feeling like you're about to go limp. But soon you're feeling everything again, more than ever before. Every little touch, every brush of your skin against her scales, the taste of her saliva in your mouth, her breath on your face, it's more intense than it was before, amplified by the tiny trace of toxin in your body. You shudder and moan around her tongue, closing your eyes, feeling that overwhelming sensitivity spread to your every nerve, finally making its way down to your cock, keeping you pulsing so hard you're practically gushing pre.

Her coils loosen around you, but only to brush at you with the very tip of her tail. She slips the narrowest part of her under your shirt, lifting it up some. You get the idea, and wiggle about until you can strip out of it. She hardly needs to continue the suggestions, but you appreciate the pressure against your bulge, grinding her tail there a while until you're able to scramble and squirm your way out of your pants, your undergarments, exposing your fully naked body to her, rubbing it against her scales. The texture scritches slightly, rough in places, smooth in others, like a continuous discovery just to caress yourself against her over and over. But by then you're so worked up that you're well beyond just grinding, starting to lose control of yourself as you hump and thrust, trying to find a target even while not being entirely sure where it might be. Her guidance once more proves helpful.

You feel her coils tighten around you, but not before she slides her tail end between your thighs, slipping your cock over her scales until you finally feel warmth and wetness to contrast the cool roughness stimulating your thumping inches. You want her so much you whimper for her, and she doesn't keep you waiting. It's not exactly a vagina, but the serpent's cloaca wraps slickly around your cock, letting you sink all the way inside as Thast sharply hisses to you. The wet embrace is somewhat loose at first, but as soon as you're buried balls-deep in snake pussy, you feel her clench up tight around you, holding on firm and not letting you go. The muscles inside her work in such incredible ways, squeezing from angles you've never felt before, giving you an incredible massages without your even having to move your hips. It's enough to bring a shuddering gasp out of you, your back arching, your eyes squeezing shut, a twitch starting from your taint as if you might blow your load right that moment. But you hold that down, tightening your muscles, making sure you don't squander your time spent buried deep within the serpent.

Opening your eyes, you're greeted by her face, right up near yours. You give her a smooch on the lips, and in turn she licks your face with the two prongs of her tongue, brushing them along your cheek and up to your forehead before she sets to hissing right into your ear. It's almost too loud, but so enticing you don't even consider protesting. An even better sound makes itself known soon enough. It starts as just a faint schlicking, but grows to a thick, sloppy squelching as the snake milks your cock, shimmering with lust as she glides up down your shaft. You can hardly even thrust for how tightly she's holding you. This is her show, and she pleasures you with an expertise, rapidly flexing and messaging as she writhes against you, every little squeeze of her muscles travelling all the way down to her slit, kneading firm around you while you twitch and spurt within her depths. Her hissing only grows louder, and she withdraws, looming just above your head a while, until she opens her mouth wide.

She doesn't bite or lunge, but tilting your head back and gazing into her looming maw while she outright drools on you, that's enough to get you shuddering again. You feel her clamping down on you, giving you a squeeze worthy of a python, at least for a few moments. A little less air, and a tighter grip on your cock, and all you can do is curl your toes while you admire those looming fangs. Every touch is like an orgasm in itself. Her scales on your skin, the powerful muscles beneath them flexing taut, bulging. The sound of her gasps and moans mixing with her natural hisses. Her scent. Her taste. Everything about that moment is perfect, spurred on by the flexing grip and keeps you buried in her slit, working you from tip to base, your balls thumping up against her soaked scales. She closes her mouth and simply looks into your eyes, blazing with the intensity of a desert sun as you finally let climax scream through your body, leaving you shaking, tensing, twitching, and finally crying out her name in a shattered voice as your cum flows thick into her slit.

"T-Thast... god ..." you whimper, unloading again and again, slipping into an extended orgasm that just keeps going, until your balls are clenching up tighter and tighter against your body just to milk out every drop you can give her.

The sound she makes starts out melodic, though it gets a little frightening after a while. She spits on you just a bit as she hisses out her peak, slit nearly sealing shut around you, making you yelp as she works those last few drops out of you. A great, splattered mess soaks your thighs and belly, and everything in between, the scent of snake sex clinging to your skin, leaving you simmering in bliss as you slump down in her embrace. She retracts her fangs and instead just nudges you with her snout, while you struggle to catch your breath. After a moment, she makes it easier by loosening her grip around your chest, but the rest of you remains tightly held, coiled, squeezed, and kept. Only after basking in that glowing feeling together for a while does she finally speak again.

"... I do believe we will make for good neighbours. And you are welcome to visit anytime. But." A flick of her tongue against your cheek, and she gives just one more firm squeeze before relaxing some. "I'm not ready for you to leave just yet. If that's alright with you."

An assertive front, followed by something gentler. She has a dominant side you already love, and a softer one that means you can trust her. All you can do is happily groan as you nod your head, rubbing up against her body, lingering in her hospitable embrace. You'll stay for as long as she'll have you.