by Mistress Rae
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Forbidden Publications
www.forbiddenpublications.com
Copyright ©2007 by Mistress Rae
First published in 2007, 2007
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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A SENSUAL SITUATION
A Forbidden Publications production, FEBRUARY 2007
Forbidden Publications
PO Box 153
East Prairie, MO 63845
www.forbiddenpublications.com
A SENSUAL SITUATION
Copyright © 2007 MISTRESS RAE
Cover Art by ML BENTON © 2007
Edited by RENE WALDEN-WILSON—No copyright assigned.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web—without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, please contact the publisher via regular mail.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
ISBN: Not Assigned.
A Sensual Situation
By
Mistress Rae
"You are so gonna get in trouble,” a very mischievous voice chimed.
"Will you shut up?” an older sounding voice hissed back.
"You're drawing all over the floor!"
"And I'll be mopping it up with you, if you don't keep quiet!” Amber colored eyes shot a look towards the one with the younger voice.
In a dark attic lit with three dusty candles, two sisters, Kayla and Darla, marveled over the old trunk full of the most interesting stuff their grandmother owned. The youngest, Kayla, had already gotten into her grandmother's old clothes. She sashayed around the creaky room wearing a navy blue dress—four sizes too big, with a string of large pearls she had to wrap around her neck five times to avoid tripping on it.
Darla, however, wasn't interested in the clothes. A very headstrong nineteen year old, her interests in magick didn't even rival that of her little sister's. Kayla was ten, and more interested in toys and games, than learning more about her heritage. When Darla discovered she and her sister came from a long line of witches, her personal studies surpassed that of her regular schoolwork at times. A couple of her college classes involved very eclectic studies, electives that piqued her interests—including paranormal studies and learning psychic abilities. Stupid classes to the majority of the students, but important classes to her.
Darla and Kayla's mother never told them that their great-great grandmother was a witch. Darla found out by accident when she found her grandmother's journal. More hurt that her mother kept something like that from her own daughters, Darla forced her to confess. She wanted no part of it and made sure her own children were ignorant of it.
Until now.
Stuck babysitting for the night, Darla had wandered into the attic to see if any of her grandmother's old clothes could be salvaged—transformed into ‘punk’ clothing with a few added tears, zippers, and safety pins—before their mother took them down to the Salvation Army. She figured she'd save her mother a couple hours of sorting. So, while she sorted, she felt ... contemplative. She poked her head out of the tiny attic window and checked the skies. The moon was full. That might have been a good reason why.
Finishing up her sorting, she ran across an old, burgundy-colored footlocker. Immediately, Darla's interests were piqued. Pulling it away from the wall, she unlocked it.
She blinked at what she saw.
Dusty, glass jars full of small, decomposed animals. Darla wrinkled her nose as she continued rummaging. Tapered candles of colors of purple, black, white and blue. Incense. Semiprecious stones such as hematite, lapis lazuli, malachite and obsidian in small, drawstring bags. Quartz crystals tied in white handkerchiefs. Old parchments with spells written on them. Darla's eyes widened, and she carefully took out a purple velvet cloth and unfolded it. A silver pentagram was embroidered in the center of the material—an altar cloth.
Cool, Darla thought, folded it back up, and placed it aside. She held her breath in anticipation as she gently lifted out a heavy, leather-bound book. It smelled awful, part of the cover powered in green mildew. As she opened it, she coughed. The pages were spotted with black mold. However, they were still readable. She took the book over to the window, sat on the floor, and slowly thumbed through the pages. Using a pen knife she found in the footlocker, she separated the pages that were stuck together.
It was her grandmother's book of spells.
It contained many fascinating hand-drawn symbols and seals. Words that would conjure up a witch's desire, make things happen, and cause things to appear. Darla's whole body welled up with an indescribable energy—magickal energy she wanted to put to use.
A symbol that drew her attention was a strange ‘love’ symbol. A star within a circle, she recognized the planetary symbol for Venus in the center of the star, with other smaller symbols unfamiliar to her going around it. This particular symbol would conjure a being of every woman's fantasy, and satisfy her every need. This demon was a pleasure demon and had to be used with the utmost care. Darla raised her eyebrow. The thought of conjuring up a pleasure demon excited as much as scared her. Would there be repercussions to doing it? There were pros and cons to every situation.
Screw it, Darla thought. This is my nana's personal book of spells, after all. And she lived to be a ripe old age! If no harm came to her, then nothing should happen to me either.
How cool would it be to have her own personal sex demon? She and her boyfriend Justin had been dating for six months. Just recently she started asking him to make love to her. Justin kept avoiding the topic, and she wasn't too happy about that. Darla was still a virgin, but he himself was not. At least one of them was experienced; Darla frowned on that thought often. Although he remained loyal and true to her, satisfying her orally or otherwise, she wondered why he wouldn't go all the way. She loved what he did to her, but it wasn't the same as the real deal.
Maybe this pleasure demon would be the answer to her prayers. Hell, Justin didn't have to know.
Darla rushed back to the footlocker and removed the quartz crystals. They looked like shards, most of them about four inches long. A pink piece of cloth caught her attention again, and she plucked that out next. She unwrapped another shard, but this one was a dark pink color. It was way too dark to be rose quartz. The crystal vibrated in her hand, sending a warm feeling to her nether regions. Slowly, Darla panted, feeling desire as she never had before. She knew this crystal was somehow connected to summoning the pleasure demon. She wrapped it back up, and the warm feeling vanished.
She couldn't wait to experiment with this spell.
At that moment, Kayla bounded up the steps. Darla shut the book.
"Looking through grandmom's stuff?” she asked. Darla nodded and watched Kayla strut over to the clothes marked for the Salvation Army, pulled out a navy dress, slipped it on over her clothes, and looked at herself in a dusty full-length mirror. She grabbed a zip lock bag full of necklaces out of the pile, taking out
a string of pearls and hung them on her neck. Darla watched her for a moment, musing over what she was about to do. Darla reached in the trunk again, took out a piece of chalk, and discreetly tried drawing a circle in the middle of the floor.
Kayla, getting bored quickly, checked out what Darla was doing.
"Oooo ... you are so gonna get in trouble."
"Will you shut up?"
"You're drawing all over the floor!” Kayla knelt, the pearls hanging from her neck now cascaded onto the old wooden flooring and onto Darla's drawing.
"And I'll be mopping it up with you, if you don't keep quiet!” Darla shot her a look, her dark hair whipping across her face.
"What is that?” Kayla whispered.
"A circle, goofball,” Darla snapped.
Kayla got up and studied the image on the floor. “It looks like an egg."
Darla huffed. “Will you get out?"
"Why?"
"I'm working on something.” She didn't look at her younger sister, but kept drawing small symbols in the circle.
"Now it looks like you're trying to draw the solar system.” Kayla giggled, and then yawned. “It's almost ten-thirty. I'm going to sleep."
"I'll be there in a bit.” Darla glanced at her as she continued to draw.
"Ew, don't fall asleep up here, you'll get all dusty and cobwebby."
"Fine. Now go to sleep."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Kayla."
Kayla closed the door behind herself, and Darla breathed a sigh of relief. Those sexual urges of hers were rising again. She would have loved to feel Justin's tongue wiggling around in her right about then.
After following the rest of the instructions in her grandmother's book of spells, she stepped back and looked at her handiwork.
It couldn't be this easy.
No way.
A simple spell to conjure a lover? The lover of her dreams?
Darla lay on the floor naked, spread-eagled with her arms away from her body like an impersonation of man as the microcosm. Situated red candles were placed at the five points of the circle she lay in, and she held the mysterious reddish crystal in her left hand. No other lighting was in the room. Since she was on her back, Darla stared up at the ceiling, noticing the support beams with their tiny cracks in them. This was a very old attic. She was surprised it hadn't fallen apart years ago. She thought it funny that it could come crashing down on her in the middle of having sex with her demon for the first time. How ironic!
Summoning the demon was all a matter of mental concentration and extreme patience on Darla's part. It was possible that nothing would happen at all, and failure was her biggest concern. She would feel like a major fool, but at least no one around would know.
No one except for all of the unseen. She knew if this didn't work, then she would be the laughing stock of the other side.
Nana, where are you? Darla sighed. I wish you could tell me if I'm doing this right.
"Focus." An elder-voice popped in her mind.
"Focus...” Darla repeated. She took a deep breath, her breasts gently rising. Then she exhaled, focused again on the symbol in her mind's eye. If something didn't happen soon, she was liable to fall asleep there on the floor.
Ten minutes. Fifteen. Twenty. Time moved slower than ever. The old adage of time flying when you're having fun and moving slow when you weren't was so true.
Still visualizing the symbol, her long, dark eyelashes finally rested on the apples of her cheeks. She drifted into the space of wakefulness and sleep when she sensed the candle light in the room glowing a bit brighter. She felt awake, but never opened her eyes.
She felt as if she was in an orb of soft orange light—weightless, floating, suspended in pure nothingness.
In the physical realm, the symbol on the floor began to ripple like water, small ripples at first, then larger ones. Then silence. The room was silent and still as death.
She remained oblivious.
A masculine form rose from the surging symbol on the floor. His eyes were solid and black as pitch. His straight, waist length hair matched those orbs perfectly. It marveled at her curves, her milky smooth skin, and the perkiness of her breasts, her nipples erect. It smiled a very pointed smile. He hovered over her as if he were about to do a push-up, yet not touching her, looking at her face. His eyes traveled downward, and his lips covered a nipple. His kitten-soft tongue circled it slowly. His dark hair fell, forming a curtain around his face. He drew a line with his tongue over to her other nipple, repeating his actions.
Next, he knelt before her and parted her legs, slightly exposing her womanhood. Still on one knee, he bent down, and gently parted her thighs wider, then her folds. His tongue slipped into her entrance.
His hands were cool, and felt good on her hot skin. Any movement by her was paralyzed, however, the product of her spirit remaining in the astral realm.
The being's tongue explored further, probed her, tasted her. Gently, he sucked on her clitoris, softly circling her pink bud.
Darla tried to break the strange paralysis she was in. When she managed to open her eyes, she saw a dark haired man hovered over her waist. Darla gasped, and he looked up with eyes as black as onyx. She wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or simply enjoy it.
"Shhhhhh,” he whispered, reaching out to gently lay her head back down. She noticed his huge penis and had the scariest feeling she wouldn't be able to handle his thickness. Three inches wide seemed a bit much.
Holy shit! She about to lose her virginity to a pleasure demon in a dusty-ass attic in her mother's house. Way to go, Darla!
"Do not think."
She heard a male voice in her mind. Had it been the mysterious man at her feet?
He continued with his oral pleasures. His cool skin against hers felt so good. His tongue was warm as he circled and flicked, stopping every few seconds to snake his long tongue into her vagina.
This was forbidden. It had to be. A forbidden pleasure she didn't deserve.
He parted her, traveling further downward to where no man, not even Justin, had ever ventured.
She wanted to squirm when his tongue entered her butt. It was sensitive and felt exhilarating. He toyed with it for a moment longer, and all the while her womanhood was throbbing and tightening—the feeling of an orgasm slowly brewing.
Raising her legs straight up, then spreading them again, he took Darla by surprise with his swift movements.
"Trust me," came his voice again, and so, she relaxed.
He was on his knees now, and she was able to get a better look at his penis. Pre-come had emerged from the tip and as it bobbed in eagerness. The pre-come dripped to the floor. She wanted to feel it in her.
His long tongue penetrated her anus again. Her muscles responded by tightening. His tongue poked and wiggled in her a few more times. She swore she was about to explode. He must have sensed it, as he dove for the tip of her reddened clitoris again and sucked. Hungrily, he lapped at her vaginal opening, darting in and out, whisking his tongue over her clit in a sudden frenzied attempt to make her orgasm. His penis had hardened to its fullest; the veins underneath the surface were thick and rippling. The mast stood at perfect attention waiting for its moment of glory.
Holding her thighs apart as wide as they could go, he continued to lick her. Darla could not control herself any longer. She cried out, her orgasm running out of her like a river as her clit throbbed in the aftermath.
Shit ... he could do this better than Justin.
He enjoyed lapping up her juices, every so often letting his tongue venture inside. Then pulling her hips closer to his, his penis was rock-hard against her inner thigh. He was wet, the pre-come working as a lubricant as he slowly worked it into her vagina.
To her surprise, his girth wasn't painful as she expected it to be, since her vaginal walls had relaxed after her orgasm. As he pushed inside her, she felt him widening her, and the feeling made her want to orgasm again. He closed his eyes and sighed, relishing the feel
ing of being in her. He throbbed in dark wanting. She could feel him pulsate and tried tightening her walls around him, finding it hard to do. He filled all of her with his hard flesh, barely hurting her in the time it took him to work his penis into her.
He looked down, amazed at how much of him she took into her. It was the perfect tight fit, not an inch left anywhere. She watched him as he sucked on his thumb, and then slowly rubbed her clit again.
Darla moaned, trying to tighten her walls around him again, but was still unable to. Blissful torture! If she had another orgasm, would it go all over him? She wondered what it would be like when he came, as huge as he was.
He pumped slowly, then grabbed her ankles and slammed into her faster. He slowed down, and rubbed her clit again. She moaned, wanting to explode. He closed her thighs, held both her ankles with one hand, and thrust hard a few more times before he turned her on her knees.
Darla felt like she would collapse when he kept thrusting nonstop for what had to be a good five minutes. It seemed like forever to her. He slowed down again, and she fondled his large balls. They were warm and fuzzy. She gently pulled at them, making him moan.
He decided to pull out very slowly. The friction built during his thrusts created a suction inside her vagina. Her pussy clung to his penis. Darla felt strangely empty after he withdrew. She sat on the floor and watched his penis eagerly bob as if awaiting more.
She took the tip into her mouth. Then she used one hand to stroke his shaft and the other to massage his balls.
He tilted his head back and moaned again. She felt his sack start to tighten up in her palm. She continued to suck on him, the tip of her tongue wiggling into the slit, tasting his saltiness. She stroked him faster. His shaft felt hotter, and his veins pulsed. He gave a grunt and pulled out of her mouth. Standing them both up, he turned her around and bent her over before entering her from behind. Gripping her hips, he pounded away at her. Perspiration rolled down his muscled back and chest in tiny rivulets. He reached around her waist and grabbed her breasts, kneading them, rubbing her nipples. Darla lost her balance. She couldn't even bend forward to touch the floor and struggled against him in frustration to reach for the nearest wall. He guided her towards the wall. She braced herself against it to let him continue having his way with her.
