Page 17 of The Vipers and Their Venom

Interesting.

I’m still fucking hard, so I walk away from the clearing and farther into the woods. There’s nobody around, and if anyone comes, I’ll hear them.

There’s a fantasy running through my head now of her crawling for me. Tied up in some of Lex’s ropes and being made to crawl away from me like a dog. Her ass cheeks parted by the ropes so I can see her pussy. I wonder if it’s as juicy as the rest of her.

Putain de merde—holy shit—I need to come again. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this. The past few months, I’ve been on autopilot with Zane being away and with no one to fuck around with, and this is an unexpected and welcome distraction. I knowI’m a horny son of a bitch, but this is ridiculous, even for me. That girl has certainly had an effect on me.

I unzip and pull out my hard dick. I lean one hand against the tree and grip myself with the other.

I run my hand up and down, wishing I had some lube. I swipe my thumb over the smooth head, gathering pre-cum from my slit. It’s not enough, though, so I roll my tongue around in my mouth, creating moisture, and then I duck my head and spit onto my cock. That’s better. I trace the thick veins standing out on my cock and squeeze the base. It feels good, my balls tightening, and I draw in a breath.

My eyes slip shut, and I focus my mind on the new girl…Ivani.

She’d been all alone, out here in the woods, with barely a scrap of material covering her chest. Our encounter could have gone a whole different way if I’d wanted it to.

I tighten my grip on my cock as I picture myself sneaking up on her, of pinning her down, and tearing off that tiny top. I’d have clamped my hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream.

Would she like those big tits being slapped? I’d make them red. Then I’d suck her nipples until she was begging me to stop. I’d have liked to hear that. Maybe I’d make her come from that alone. Then I’d tell her what a little slut she was. A cheap, desperate littleputain—whore.

As my fantasy scenario builds in my head, my hand works my cock even faster. My breathing grows ragged, and my muscles bunch. In my head, I feast on her. Licking, sucking, biting…leaving my mark on her.

Jesus Christ, I can feel the tingling in my spine that tells me I’m going to come.

The image that hits me at the same time the cum shoots out of me is her looking up at me, eyes wide and tear-filled as I smear her lipstick all over her face.

I paint the tree and the ground with my release, panting my way through it. Then I sag against the trunk, getting my breath back before I put myself away.

Seems I can’t get enough today, and the presence of the new girl at school is only going to make me want more. Except I know my imagination won’t be enough after the first few times of masturbating over her.

I’m going to need the real thing.

10

VANI

There’s a lighter bounce to my step as I head back to school.

Have I just made a new friend in Saint? The possibility of having actual friends here definitely makes me feel better. I’ve been lonely most of my life, and the urge to connect with people is strong. It helps that he’s absolutely gorgeous, and, for the first time, I don’t have my dad lurking around to scare him off. Not that Saint or his brother seem like the kind who scare easily.

I can’t let myself be distracted, though. I know it’s going to take time, but I need to remember why I’m here.

I follow the route I’d taken out here back to the main school building. There seems to be a fair few external buildings, too, though I’m unsure what they house. The grounds this place is built upon seem vast.

As I walk, my thoughts wander.

After Mom had confessed about me having a sister, at first, I hadn’t done anything. I’d been in shock, and then, only forty-eight hours later, she’d died. She knew she was dying and was compelled to tell me about Reagan. She hadn’t wanted to take the secret to the grave. Perhaps there had been a part of her that had felt like she was leaving me alone, and so had offered up the news of a big sister as a way of replacing her.

Of course, telling me that news didn’t come without its risks. There was Reagan’s new family to worry about, and then there’s the college itself.

Opening the side entrance doors, I step back into the gloom. Even here, not in the main foyer, there’s the odd oil portrait lining the corridor. All men, of course.

This place seems to love the patriarchy.

I find myself searching for clues that my sister studies here as I wander the halls and learn the layout.

Most universities would have display cabinets with engraved trophies won by their sports teams, or year photos framed and hung on the walls. Not this place. The only images are those of the paintings of the stern men.

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