by Rede, Lily
“Please, Tom – ”
He just chuckled and tugged the silk aside, exposing the soft folds of her sex. The chuckle died on his lips as he stared down at the flesh he’d bared, for so long that she got nervous. With the pad of one finger he petted the small trimmed patch of raven curls she maintained at the top of her cleft, setting off a tremor from her pussy to the tips of her fingers and toes.
“So sweet,” he managed in a choked voice. “I want to lick you from head to toe. Starting here.”
The next moment her perch moved as Tom scooted down, ripping the panties from her hips. When he was horizontal, he lifted her thighs over her shoulders one at a time, spreading her pussy wide over his face.
“Oh, yeah.”
Cass had never felt more exposed. Or turned on. Her pussy wept at the scrape of his stubble against sensitive flesh.
“I’m not entirely sure about this.” Her breathy voice was not at all convincing.
Tom traced the bare cleft of her pussy with his tongue.
“Ok, then. Let me know when you make up your mind.”
He used his fingers to spread her further, and then slid his tongue through the damp folds to flicker against her swollen clit. Cass stopped thinking as he tasted and teased, flicked and sucked and drove her closer and higher, and OH MY GOD.
Cass exploded, her head falling back as waves of pleasure swamped her, so powerful she wondered if she’d ever be the same. Below her, Tom groaned, and then grabbed a fistful of her hair to wrap around his cock. The light tug on her scalp set off a series of smaller explosions, and Cass gave herself up to them. When she resurfaced, she was sprawled across him, her ass cushioned on his chest, her cheek against his hip. The muscles in her thighs protested, but she didn’t care, pleasure still thrumming through her body while she watched in fascination as he stroked himself, fucking his hand and a fistful of her hair with jerky, brutal strokes.
She could see the effort it took to let go of his dick, looking up at her over the apex of her thighs to stroke a knuckle down her cheek.
“You okay?”
“Wonderful.”
She nuzzled his cock, her tongue peeking out to flicker against the damp head, broad and ruddy, gathering his taste. It twitched at her attentions and he groaned.
“Keep doing that and I’m going to be fucking your sweet mouth before you can say trick or treat.”
“Do you want to?” Cass cringed internally at the eagerness in her voice, but he was long and thick and throbbing, and she felt drunk on power and pleasure, and feeling him shudder and let go against her tongue suddenly seemed like the best idea in the world.
He nipped the soft skin of her inner thigh and then soothed the bite with gentle suction as heat raced up from the spot. In retaliation, she drew him into her mouth, suckling lightly, humming in approval at the heady pulse against her tongue.
“God, Cass – holy shit.”
TOM THOUGHT THAT ONLY force majeure would have been sufficient cause for him to voluntarily remove his aching cock from the hot, wet haven of Cass’ mouth, but he’d never seen anything like this. He dislodged her warm weight and sat up, barely registering her shriek as he stared at the greenhouse, or rather, the lush jungle that used to be the greenhouse. Every plant in every row had exploded into glorious bloom, and magic clung to green tendrils and seeped from flowering pods, so dense that the windows and roof were completely covered in greenery. His orchids clambered around support beams, the roses were a wall of thorns and delicate blooms against one wall, and the lettuces had multiplied into a leafy, six-foot mound.
“I’m so sorry, Tom! It’ll stop…eventually…” Cass tried to sound hopeful.
Holding his jeans up with one hand, Tom moved to examine a tomato the size of a basketball.
Cass sank back on the couch cushions, hands over her face, her natural self-consciousness trumped by the latest mortification.
“Why can’t I just be normal?”
Tom grinned.
“You know, if I buy you a new vibrator, we might be able to end world hunger.”
She started laughing, unable to stop.
“You tease, but do you know what it feels like to feel completely helpless?
Tom set the tomato down and leaned against a work bench.
“Baby, I feel like that every time you smile at me.”
He’d shocked her silent again, her eyes big and dark in the gloom and the weird glow from the moonlight and the pumpkin sparks outside.
“You’re killing me here,” she whispered.
“The feeling’s mutual,” he whispered back.
“Then why don’t you come over here and fill me up?”
He could see the effort it took for her to be brave, and his heart rolled over in his chest, slow and sweet.
So fucking sweet.
His mouth went dry when she leaned back on the couch, a shy blush filling her cheeks as she slowly spread her legs…
CASS’ HEART WAS RACING, but she forced herself to open wider, as far as she could, putting her wet pussy on display as she watched Tom’s throat work, eyes locked between her thighs.
“All my condoms are inside the house.” He sounded tortured.
Cass’ eyes widened. Maybe she could do something about that. Not giving herself time to think about it, she thought about what she wanted and –
POP!
A foil-wrapped condom appeared between her fingers.
Tom started laughing.
“That’s a handy trick.”
Encouraged by her success, Cass giggled.
“Let’s try this.”
Cass delighted in the thrill of witchy naughtiness, marveling at her little accomplishment. This must be what her sisters felt like all the time.
She opened her fingers, and Tom gasped as the condom hovered in the air, and then shed its wrapper and floated across the room to land with unerring precision on the head of his cock.
Bullseye.
TOM SHUDDERED AT THE feeling of warm, invisible fingers stroking the condom down his thick shaft. White-knuckled, he gripped the edge of the table while the phantom touch proceeded to stroke and cuddle his balls. The inferno inside kicked up a notch when he caught a glimpse of the slow grin that spread across Cass’ face as he pumped up into the air. The impish glee on her face pulled a low groan from his throat and his head fell back on his shoulders.
And then she was there, pushing him back on the table, yanking his jeans off his legs, and clambering up to straddle him, settling her sweet pussy against his desperate cock. An empty flowerpot crashed to the ground.
“I’m sure there’s a joke here about witches’ broomsticks and hard wood,” he groaned, “but all the blood has left my brain.”
“I can still turn you into a frog,” she reminded him sternly, “In theory.”
He couldn’t think of anything to say, because at that moment she fitted the fat crown of his dick against her slick folds and started sinking down, blissfully tight and hot.
This is witchcraft right here, he thought, and then stopped thinking altogether.
CASS FELT EVERY INCH of Tom’s hard cock as he filled her with his own kind of magic, rasping each nerve ending in her weeping pussy, taking him to the hilt. Her sheath felt tight and stretched, and he throbbed within her, tension coiling low in her abdomen when she started to move.
“Ride me, sweet witch,” Tom murmured underneath her, his fingers gripping her hips, helping her glide up and down as they found their rhythm, straining against each other, skin sheened with sweat. Faster and faster, the heat building with each delicious stroke, his body a wonder as she rode him, drowning in the green fire of his eyes and the pulse of his blood under the thin skin of the shaft buried deep within her body. She barely noticed when they left the table, levitating higher and higher until her head brushed the leafy canopy that had grown from her previous orgasm.
Tom’s eyes only widened at the sudden change in elevation, but he said nothing, just held her hips down and star
ted fucking her hard and deep, ramping up the tension coiled in her body. Cass could do nothing but hold on as he jackhammered up, hot and thick and so male she wanted to melt. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it another second, he moved one hand to flick her swollen clit.
“Come, Cass. Come for me.”
Cass screamed as she detonated, pleasure consuming her in flames so bright she thought she might go blind. Her vision wavered. Below her, she felt Tom following her over with a guttural shout of his own, arching his back before going limp. She collapsed against his chest, wrecked, as they drifted down to the table. Suddenly, from outside –
BOOM! BOOM!
Something wet and heavy splattered against the glass roof of the greenhouse, like rain or mud.
Cass’ eyes widened.
“Oh no.”
She sucked in a breath as she separated herself from Tom, the thick warmth of his shaft rubbing against tender flesh as he pulled out.
Cass slid off the table, grabbed her nightshirt, and pulled it on in one swift motion as she raced for the door, skidding to a halt in the doorway, her stomach dropping.
Tom came up behind her.
“Fuck me,” he breathed.
The pumpkin patch was a field of sticky orange goo, with shattered pieces of twelve giant pumpkins scattered as far as the eye could see. Cass groaned as the truth hit her like a freight train. Tom had given her pleasure like she’d never known, and when she’d exploded in ecstasy, the pumpkins had followed suit.
The last straw.
Ignoring the curious neighbors that were starting to make an appearance, Cass swallowed her tears and took off barefoot across the lot. She didn’t stop running until she reached the safety of her house. Alone.
Tom didn’t follow.
THE NEXT MORNING DAWNED crisp and cold, but normal cold, not magical, freeze-your-nuts-off-kill-everything-that-grows cold. After a sleepless night, Tom spent the morning fielding questions and condolences on the destruction of his beautiful crop, and started cleanup. The questions he handled with a carefully vague answer – a burst pipe in exactly the wrong place, a buildup of pressure, blah blah blah. He gathered debris for mulching and salvaged a few wheelbarrows full of seeds for next season. The greenhouse was still overgrown, but the tendrils of magic had dissipated. He’d need more than a weed whacker to get the place back to normal. Through it all, Tom tried not to think. He wasn’t ready to process everything, and focused instead on physical activity, pushing himself to exhaustion.
Unfortunately, his mind couldn’t block Cass, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself.
Cass, whose raven hair felt like cool silk against his skin…who made the sweetest little cries of pleasure when he sucked her tasty clit… and whose pussy was hot enough to melt his cock as she rode him to oblivion. Cass, who was a witch that accidentally destroyed a year’s work by coming too hard.
Tom sighed and wiped the sweat from his face with the edge of his shirt.
He tried to convince himself that if she never spoke to him again, he’d be dodging a bullet. No doubt last night’s episode was just the tip of the iceberg. Who knows what might happen if they were in a real relationship? Who knows what might happen if he sank his cock into her again, maybe from behind this time, or up against the wall. Maybe he’d just strip her and fuck that sweet mouth while she played with her tits.
Tom groaned. He wasn’t going to be able to forget her – the bright, curious eyes, her sweet laugh, or the way she gently teased him. So she destroyed a few pumpkins. So fucking what? He could grow more for next year. Missing the competition was a blow to his ego, but missing out on Cass would be fatal to his heart.
He picked up a small pumpkin from the corner of the lot by the gate, mostly undamaged, and headed down to Cass’ house.
Tom knocked.
And waited.
And knocked again.
“I’m not going anywhere until you answer the door, Cass.”
A long pause, and the door cracked open to reveal a very wary Cass still in her flannel shirt from the night before. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were red and swollen. She’d clearly been crying. She was beautiful.
Solemnly, Tom held out the little pumpkin.
Cass burst into tears again.
Shit.
Tom set the pumpkin on the porch and pulled Cass into his arms, letting her sob against his shirt. While she held tight and cried herself out, he noted the chaos inside – the house seemed to be having its own meltdown. He winced at the sound of breaking glass.
“Sweetheart, you have to calm down. Your homeowners insurance probably doesn’t cover damage by witchcraft.”
Cass let out a watery chuckle and the noise level inside abated somewhat.
“You shouldn’t be here, Tom. I blew up your pumpkins.”
“Yes, you did. But you also blew my mind, so I figure it’s a fair trade.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Tom tilted her head up.
“Look, everyone’s got their little eccentricities. I once dated a girl who thought that eating salad was murder. I can handle a little magic, Cass.”
“But it could be months before I figure out how to control it. Or years. It’s part of who I am. It’s never going to go away, and anyone who wants to be with me is going to have to deal with a certain amount of magical disaster,” she said, adding, “And my family.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to find lots of interesting ways to make it up to me when you accidentally leave me stranded in the Gobi desert or turn my customers into fruit bats.”
He explored her curves through the flannel, sliding his hands back to cup her ass in a firm grip. She plucked a pumpkin seed from the collar of his shirt.
“You’re covered in pumpkin guts.”
“Yes, I am. Let’s go take a bath and you can scrub my back, my sweet little witch.”
Cass seemed to waver for a moment, and then wrapped her hands around his neck.
“Are you sure?”
“Where am I going to find another girl who can literally sweep me off my feet?”
He kissed her, pleased with her gasp as he lifted her far enough to press his cock into the vee of her thighs. Oh yeah.
“You know, I might be able to put your pumpkins back together,” she murmured.
“Leave my pumpkin patch alone.”
“It was just a suggestion.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
He grinned as Cass chuckled, and then swept her up into his arms, his mouth already moving on hers as he stepped inside the house and shut the door behind them.
THE END
BEWITCH ME
THE WOMAN SITTING ACROSS from him was beautiful, accomplished, and elegant, from the top of her cool blonde head to the dove gray thousand-dollar heels that encased her aristocratic feet. The CEO of the largest shipping company in the region and the daughter of a billionaire entrepreneur, Nicole Ellis was everything Trent Langley had been looking for in a wife. And she approved of him. He’d made a small fortune buying dying companies and turning them around, and apparently she liked his initiative. She was ready to cement the deal, even though they’d only been on a few dates.
Which is why it bothered Trent to no end that though he was sitting in an upscale bistro, dining on lobster and champagne, his unruly cock was hard enough to pound nails…and it had nothing to do with his potential life partner across the table. Nicole didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, busy laying out an offer that would affect the rest of his life.
“I’m so glad that we see eye to eye on this, Trent. In my world, men fall into two categories. Those that want the fairytale and those that want my money. You and I both know that love is for idiots. Mutual respect, shared goals – that’s the core of any good marriage.”
“I agree completely,” said Trent, shifting slightly in his seat.
His balls were going to be blue by the time he made it home.
A flash of gray eyes, black curls,
and a sweet, heart-shaped face flickered through Trent’s mind, and he firmly shoved it away. He’d spent too many years of his life letting his heart and his dick lead the way and now, one explosive marriage and a dozen breakups later, he had decided that the path to true happiness lay in cool, rational thought.
“So, I’ll have my lawyers draw up the pre-nup, and once negotiations are settled, we can announce our engagement.”
“That sounds wonderful,” said Trent, and reached across to squeeze her hand, a friendly gesture that she returned.
Nicole pulled out her phone and tapped in a reminder.
“Just to be clear, we’ve agreed on two children, two years apart, separate finances except for a joint household account. Do we need to discuss sex?”
She arched a cool eyebrow as Trent gripped the edge of the table.
“We probably should,” he said, hoping he wasn’t visibly sweating.
“I would be pleased with twice a week, but I don’t mind you seeking out…companionship…as long as you’re discreet about it, and safe.”
Trent felt the first hint of misgiving. He didn’t want to cheat on his wife and sleep around. That was one of the benefits of being married – a woman in his bed to pleasure and fuck when the urge hit. And Trent had plenty of urges. He could go all night when the mood was right. But he didn’t want to scare her off. This was too perfect.
Laughing gray eyes flickered through his mind again, mocking.
“I enjoy your company, Nicole, and I hope we’ll be good together in bed, as well as out of it. I’d rather not seek outside entertainment if I don’t have to. Fidelity is a good quality to teach our children.”
Nicole pursed her lips, tapping her fingers on the table.
“You’re right, of course. Well, why don’t we start with two nights a week while we’re getting to know each other, and if it seems to be going well, we can revise that number upward?”
Trent nodded, relieved. He was willing to forgo life without love, but life without an adequate amount of sex was pushing it. His cock pulsed, agreeing with him.
