"Python". The name alone quivers the soul, and pushes the blood to the nether regions of the body. 
She has other names, also. That is the requirement of her life. But tonight, she is "Python".

She is the consumate actress--absorbed so far into her role, there is no role.
A fluid Goddess of reality. What you desire, she also desires.
Her voluptuous body, in and of itself sufficient to fuel the fires of passion,encased in shining serpent patterns.

But it is the eyes, oh, the eyes, that draw you into the reality you seek.
And tonight, the sultry eyes hold a tint of coldness.
She has unleashed the deep buried instincts of our long forgotten reptilian ancestors, and she is seeking prey.
Prey to coil and enwrap and squeeze.
And her humanity is pleased, more than pleased, at the thought.

Although one cannot see what she thinks, her thoughts encompass images of attack, and struggle, and final fulfillment.

For she is the predator; you are nothing but prey.
Prey to be toyed with, she sinuously sliding over and around your body as her whims dictate.

For her humanity demands admission to this play, requires satisfaction of the lustful urges to which it is subject.

And so imagine that one may find at one moment, her coils wrapped around your head, your mouth pressed against the fountain of her arousal, the next breath stopped by the softness of her breasts.

And even as she plays with you, uses you, she rewards you.
Soft caresses, perhaps moist kisses, of that part that responds with erotic abandon to the peril that surrounds you.

But it is the serpent that controls, and in the end, her humanity must join with it in the final act.
Her body must lock around yours, the coils of her legs around your waist, and slowly, oh so slowly, the constrictor must do what ancient millenia of instinct dictates.
Squeezing, slowly, ever tighter.

Her hand and mouth glide over your body sensing the agony of your ecstasy.
Her humanity gives over to the hot joy of crushing her prey, and her body reacts to the sheer pleasure of having life completely under her control, feeling it writhe and squirm, hearing its groans of effort and gasping moans of pleasure that betray her prey's true desires.

And I quiver, with the knowledge only she knows how it will end.

For My fans of slow, sensual Squeezing Scissor sessions: you are utterly lost in Me.

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