Bewitch Me - A Halloween Collection

by Rede, Lily

  “Is this what the girls are wearing these days? In my time it was all corsets. But you’ve got your mother’s hourglass figure, dear. Lucky girl. You should visit more often.”

  “Aunt Minnie, this is Trent.”

  She grabbed his hand and dragged him forward. Trent shuffled uncomfortably beside Isabella as Aunt Minnie gravely inspected him, lingering on his package.

  “My, my. What seems to be the problem?”

  Isabella rolled her eyes.

  “Is it possible that I hexed him with an undying attraction to me without knowing it?”

  “Darling, hexing has never been your strong suit,” Aunt Minnie calmly poured herself a cup of tea out of thin air, “But you’re a magical being, darling. And you’ve been working so hard lately. Perhaps all that pent-up sexual energy manifested itself accordingly on the nearest suitable partner. Put plainly, you wanted each other badly enough, and so, BAM.”

  Her eyes twinkled as Isabella blushed.

  “How do I stop it?”

  “You can’t undo a spell that doesn’t exist, Isabella. If it’s just sexual withdrawal, the cure should be easy. You’re two consenting adults. Burn it out.”

  Isabella gasped as Trent frowned.

  “We can’t do that!” said Isabella, though her pussy was pulsing at the thought.

  Trent was frozen next to her.

  Aunt Minnie shrugged.

  “I have to rush, dear. It’s my poker night.”

  She blew Isabella a kiss and popped out.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Isabella couldn’t look at Trent as she exited the kitchen and flopped down on the couch to bury her face in her hands.

  “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Well, it is. We’re going to have to deal with it.”

  Isabella glared at him.

  “I don’t sleep with soon-to-be-engaged men.”

  “And you are not what I want. As for Nicole…she wants something like an open marriage anyway. Believe me, it won’t be a problem.”

  But Trent looked troubled.

  Isabella pulled her legs up under her, considering the situation.

  “We could…we could interact without touching? Maybe if I watched you?” said Isabella hesitantly, heat flooding her as Trent’s eyes darkened and he moved to join her on the opposite side of the couch.

  “At this point, I’ll try anything,” he affirmed, his voice gruff.

  Isabella found it hard to swallow as Trent’s hands went to the buckle of his belt. He slowly unhooked his trousers and eased the zipper down over the turgid bulge. She held her breath as he eased his cock out – flushed dark, the head was a wide mushroom, the veined shaft engorged and rigid. He was big and male and so much more than Isabella expected. Her fingers itched to touch him.

  God, I’d love to sculpt him, she thought, the naughty idea of recreating that glorious cock in bronze for her personal collection a heady thought.

  Trent started stroking, his face tight, his breathing labored.

  “Raise your shirt,” he ordered.

  “What?”

  “I want to see your breasts. I can get off at home on my own. The point of this insanity is to interact, right? Show me your tits, Isabella.”

  The steel in his voice set off a riot of sensation, and Isabella was shocked. There wasn’t a submissive bone in her body, but there was something so hot about letting him call the shots. She wondered if she’d enjoy turning the tables. Oh yeah.

  Trent growled and Isabella hastily tugged her cami up over her breasts.

  “Sweet,” breathed Trent, eyes on her nipples as his hips jerked with each thrust, “Just like I pictured. Play with them, sweetheart.”

  Feeling epically naughty, Isabella cupped her breasts, kneading, watching the incredible play of lust in his brown eyes as he pleasured himself. She rolled her nipples, pinching lightly, feeling an echo in the hot folds between her thighs. Just watching him, she was soaked.

  It was over too soon, as Trent stiffened with a rough shout, grabbing a box of tissues from the coffee table just in time. He sighed, the relief evident in his voice as he cleaned himself up, but Isabella squirmed, so turned on by his rough handling of the thick stalk of flesh that she couldn’t stand it.

  “Oh, fuck me,” muttered Trent, and Isabella watched in amazement as the semi-hard flesh swelled, pulsing with arousal as it rose to full mast again.

  Trent glared at it, and then at her.

  “I think the problem is you. It’s not that I’m not satisfied. When did you last get yourself off?”

  “I tried. Believe me I’ve tried. I nearly sprained my hand in the process.”

  “Doesn’t every modern woman use a vibrator these days?”

  “Witches don’t have those kinds of things, and I don’t like wasting magic on orgasms. It never feels quite right.”

  The bachelorette party.

  “That’s it!”

  Isabella moved the candles and magazines off the trunk she used as a coffee table and opened the carved wooden top. Inside was her makeshift junk drawer – everything she hadn’t found a place for but couldn’t throw out just yet. She rummaged around for a bit and finally emerged with a hot pink gift bag, bulging at the seams.

  “Last month I went to this horrid bachelorette party for a half-witch-half-fairy friend of mine marrying into a mortal family, so the guests were a bit of everything.”

  She closed the trunk lid and poured the bag out onto the coffee table, and Trent grinned. Lube, massage oil, nipple clamps, a couple of plugs, and a lurid pink vibrator, obscenely large. Isabella grabbed it and raced for the kitchen for batteries, smiling to herself as Trent’s jaw went slack at the sight of her naked breasts in motion.

  “You’ve been keeping a vibrator in the coffee table?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” smirked Isabella.

  She rejoined him, standing by the couch, looking dubiously at the pliant toy. She’d never used one of these before, never pleasured herself for a lover. Trent settled back against the cushions, expectant, his hand already caressing his erect flesh.

  Here we go.

  TRENT COULD SEE THAT Isabella was nervous, but she slipped her shorts down her legs nonchalantly, as though baring her body for a fully erect stranger in her living room was no big deal. Her pussy was lovely, plump and bare, and he swallowed hard as she propped her foot on the couch seat next to him.

  “Wider,” he said, the word out before he even realized he was going to say it.

  Isabella hesitated, her gray eyes wide, and then slowly moved her foot to the back of the couch. The move spread her legs impossibly wide, pulling the folds of her pussy apart, giving Trent a glimpse of the hot little nub between. With shaking fingers, Isabella turned the vibrator on and pressed the buzzing head to her clit, groaning as sensation took hold. Trent watched her arousal grow, her nipples tighten, and her hips start to rock against the buzzing toy.

  “Inside,” he murmured.

  Isabella’s eyes were almost closed, but they fluttered open at that, and she watched him as she gently slid the head of the toy through her wet folds to her entrance, pushing carefully as the crown popped through the tight opening. Breathing hard, she fucked herself with shallow, tentative strokes, her eyes never leaving his face. She was turned on, but she frowned in concentration. Trent’s eyes narrowed.

  “Haven’t you ever used a toy before?” he asked, shocked when she shook her head.

  Without hesitation, he moved, settling his big body between her thighs, brushing her hand away to take possession of the buzzing cock.

  “You’re thinking too much,” he murmured, “Just feel.”

  He pressed the toy deep into her tight pussy and Isabella gasped, teetering.

  “Hold onto my shoulders,” he ordered, and she complied, “Let me show you how it’s done.”

  The scent of ginger, clay, and the spice of Isabella’s arousal wove through Trent’s senses, making him dizzy. Her warmth was just inches away, and
Trent was having a hard time not leaning forward to suck her clit into his mouth. It was rosy and plump, so aroused that it peeked out from her bare folds. Her juices coated his hand as he fucked her with the toy, and Isabella’s head fell back in helpless pleasure. Trent hesitated for the briefest moment and then switched hands, bringing his slick fingers up to glaze the little nub with her essence. Isabella’s fingers dug into his shoulders as Trent blew a warm breath over her quivering clit.

  “Please. I need…”

  “I know what you need, sweetheart,” growled Trent resentfully, and gave in, his mouth covering her turgid flesh.

  Isabella’s flavor exploded on his tongue, and as he felt her body start to shudder, Trent plunged the vibrating cock between her thighs, hard and fast, absorbing every delicious spasm with his mouth as he sucked her through an explosive orgasm. Finally, her last cry faded to a sigh, and she fell to her knees on the couch and slumped against him, cradling his face against her breasts as he slipped the vibrator out and turned it off.

  But Trent didn’t want to cuddle.

  Isabella had come like the Fourth of July and he was still hard as a rock and at the end of his rope. He pulled back and tucked a hand behind the nape of her neck, urging her to bend down, enjoying the way the position thrust her ass in the air and allowed her big tits to swing heavily forward.

  “Suck me off,” he ordered, and held his breath, wondering if he’d gone too far.

  A long moment passed, and then Isabella moaned and wrapped her strong artist’s fingers around the thick shaft, glancing up at him with sultry, heated eyes that brimmed with satisfaction and renewed hunger.

  Oh fuck, she likes a little dominance, he realized, upset over how much that pleased him.

  Isabella licked, stroking the head with her tongue, weighing his heavy sac in her hand before opening her mouth to take the wide head down. She could only manage about half, but Trent didn’t care. His body was rioting with sensation as talons of pleasure gripped him hard. He fucked her mouth, awed with how she responded, how greedily she sucked him.

  “Gorgeous,” he muttered, watching her pouty lips stretch.

  He wanted more, his mind bombarded with crazed fantasies, and suddenly, getting off as quickly as possible didn’t seem like a priority.

  “Stop,” he said, the word almost a squeak as he felt her teeth scrape delicately, and tried again, “Isabella, stop now.”

  His normal rumble. Better.

  Isabella pulled away with a last swirl of the crown that nearly had him losing it right here.

  “Why did you make me stop?” she asked, her voice raspy.

  Trent grinned.

  “Because I have other plans for you.”

  THE MOMENT TRENT TUGGED her down with an explicit demand to suck him off, Isabella completely lost track of the fact that this was a means to an end. She relished the feel and taste of him, the confidence in his tone, the hard glint of lust in his chocolate eyes. He tasted good, spicy and earthy and hot, and she felt cheated when he pulled her away.

  “Lie back, arms over your head.”

  Oh, not done. Good.

  Isabella complied, licking her lips as Trent positioned her, settling a pillow under her back to arch her breasts up, hard nipples pointed toward the ceiling, draping one leg over the back of the couch and the other on the floor, spreading her wide.

  “Are you going to be good and stay just like that, or do I have to tie you?”

  “I’ll be good,” she breathed, but couldn’t help the wriggle of her hips.

  God, this is so hot.

  Trent stroked her exposed pussy and she jerked, and then struggled to control it as he raised an eyebrow. His eyes drifted to her breasts, heating.

  “Have you ever let a man fuck your tits?”

  Holy fuck.

  “No. No one’s ever wanted to.”

  Isabella licked her lips, trying to wrap her mind around the idea.

  “Well, that’s a lie,” said Trent tersely, “I guarantee the first thing any straight man thinks about when he first sets eyes on these beauties is how they would look cradling his cock. Should we find out?”

  He traced a finger around her nipple, chuckling when she gasped, and then trailed that finger down her stomach, dipping into her navel before tracing the crease of her thigh. He stopped to flick her clit and Isabella bit her lip, but didn’t move. Trent slid a finger inside her, stroking gently.

  “If you want me to fuck your tits, Isabella, you’ll have to ask nicely, so that there’s no misunderstanding.”

  He added another finger and she couldn’t hold back a moan.

  “Please, Trent! Anything you want. Please fuck me –”

  “Close enough,” he said.

  Trent removed his fingers and maneuvered himself over her, his knees against her ribs and his heavy cock falling naturally into the soft valley between her breasts. Precum welled from his slit and he spread it down the shaft before pressing her tits together around the hot flesh, using his thumbs to caress and flick her nipples. He started moving.

  “That feels so good,” he gritted out, his eyes narrowed to slits.

  Isabella felt aching and empty, watching as he fucked her breasts, the head of his cock flushed dark, brushing her lips with every thrust. Finally, his body tightened, his balls drawn up tight. Abruptly he let go, quickly scooting back to sit between her legs. With a brutal jerk of his cock, he came with a shout, warm come shooting over her to coat her nipples and belly. He tilted his cock down so that the last spurt smacked her clit. It was enough to set her off, the mini-orgasm racing through her like lighting.

  Trent sat back on his heels, panting, eyes roving over her in awe.

  “Oh fuck, that was incredible. Don’t move.”

  He hopped off the couch and disappeared into the kitchen, ditching his pants along the way, and returned with a warm, wet dishcloth. Isabella stayed still as he wiped her breasts and torso, and then tossed the cloth away, his eyes sliding down to focus on her pussy. She could feel his seed still sliding through her folds, mixing with her juices in a dirty, sexy glide.

  “I like this,” murmured Trent, “Pretty pink clit all wet with come.”

  He swiped a finger through her folds and brought it up to her mouth.

  “Open,” he said, and Isabella squirmed, but sucked his finger obediently, licking him clean, their combined flavors on her tongue.

  She wondered why she didn’t feel embarrassed. All of this was beyond intimate, but she still felt desperate for him, for anything he wanted to do to her. And he was hard again.

  Fine by me.

  “Please fuck me for real this time,” she said, bringing her legs up to wrap around him, forcing him over her.

  Trent caught himself on his hands and eased down to press her into the couch.

  “I still haven’t kissed you,” he said.

  “What’s stopping you?”

  Trent leaned down, but paused a breath away.

  “I’m sorry I freaked out on you,” he murmured.

  “I like how you’re making it up to me,” she replied, threading her fingers through his hair.

  She didn’t want to talk about it now. Talking about it would lead to reality, which led to awful thoughts like losing him forever after they’d burned out this crazy sexual energy. Isabella wriggled until his cock was where she wanted, relishing the feel of his hard, muscled body.

  “You’re still wearing your shirt,” she noticed, frowning.

  Trent levered himself off her and yanked off the offending garment.

  “Better?”

  “Mmm…” purred Isabella, stroking rock hard abs and drifting a hand down to squeeze his cock.

  “None of that,” muttered Trent, “I want to be inside you this time. But first – ”

  He came over her again and took her mouth like it was his right, tilting her mouth where he wanted it, taking her with lips and tongue until she was boneless beneath him.

  “Condom,” he breathed as she wri
ggled to fit the fat crown to her opening.

  “I’m protected,” she said, “Less talking, more fucking.”

  Trent grinned and reached between them to position himself, and then nudged in.

  “All of you,” begged Isabella, “Hurry!”

  “Slow,” countered Trent, “You’re tight, sweetheart.”

  His face was furrowed in concentration as he pressed into her, filling her like no one ever had, inch after inch until he was buried to the hilt. Isabella felt stuffed, deliciously impaled, surrounded by his strength and heat. And if he didn’t start moving soon, she was going to lose her fucking mind.

  “Son of a bitch,” he breathed, and cautiously stroked.

  Pleasure streaked up Isabella’s spine and she arched to him as he thrust again, his hips setting a rhythm that wiped every thought from her brain and turned her into an aching, desperate, sexual being.

  “I’ve never been this hard,” panted Trent between thrusts, “never come like that, like there was no end in sight. It’s all from you, your hot little body so hungry for this that you conjured without even knowing it. Is this what you wanted, Isabella?”

  “Yes!” she groaned.

  Trent hooked his arms under her knees and leaned forward, spreading her further, giving her no control over the depth of the thrusts, filling her with hot, unyielding cock.

  “Tell me,” he insisted.

  “I wanted you,” she whimpered, “I wanted your cock.”

  “And I wanted to give it to you,” said Trent, “from the first moment I saw you.”

  He thrust harder and she cried out, tension coiling higher, and then she was clutching him as it burst in a long, lovely, rolling wave of pleasure that had her gasping his name. Trent came, buried to the hilt as her spasming pussy milked every last drop from his cock. He collapsed on top of her, panting.

  “You’re incredible,” he said, sliding out of her and down to tease and suck her nipples as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

  “You can keep doing that until I tell you to stop,” she murmured, enjoying the heat of his mouth.

  Trent chuckled, but the sound cut off abruptly as he froze, hovering over a wet, turgid peak.