“Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing you.” Brad put his strong arms around me and pulled me onto his lap. “The answer to what you really want to know is, yes. I’d been planning this since Halloween. I was waiting until I had a few things lined up and was able to buy an engagement ring, which you ate. And by the way, I’m not worried about that satyr. Marie explained it all. I guess it’s really a compliment that the form he took was based on me. I love you, Gertie. I want to be with you. Every day, every night. I want to marry you. You’re all I think about. It is magic, but not the hocus-pocus kind. It’s the true love kind. I love you.”
“Brad, you are the only person I know that talks like that and means it. I love you so much.” My hands were on each side of his face. I ran my fingers through his thick black hair and kissed him. I became so lost in his kiss that I barely remember how he managed to pull my legs around to his sides. I faced him and our sweet, tender kiss rapidly grew into a passionate whirlwind. I can’t even remember how he managed to pull my dress up and over my head. My hands couldn’t seem to figure out where to go next—his hair, the sides of his face, wrapped around his neck, his shoulders. I couldn’t get enough of feeling him under me as I rocked wildly against his hardness.
“More! I need you. I need to feel you.” I raised myself up enough to free the entire length of his throbbing cock from his boxers. I pulled my panties aside and rested my weight back down. “Just…just this.” The heat of our bare bodies together was so exciting that it was nearly unbearable. Yet something reminded me that I couldn’t let him inside of me. We weren’t prepared. I slid my hips forward and back, teasing his entire length with each slow glide. He became incredibly hard and full. The thought that it was my body and my touch that spurred such a response turned me on even more. I intentionally kept most of my weight off of him so I could feel all the way from the tip and down to the base of his shaft. His breathing changed to deep slow breaths as he savored every movement I made. That was another response that drives me wild, every single time.
Brad slid into a reclining angle on the chair and I leaned my chest down on him. Our kisses were wildly roaming from neck to mouth while my breasts danced across his hard sculpted chest. Neither of us had to say a word, we both yearned for that feeling, that incredible moment when he slides the head of his cock into just the right place, poised for the erotic penetration. He always knows when I can barely take it any longer, that’s when he delivers the first thrust slowly and deeply, ensuring we savor every inch. I was beyond ready for that, I knew he was, too.
I would like to point out that this is a prime time for two voices in my head, Logic and Lust, to have a debate. I can’t be the only girl that thinks like this now and again. When you’re caught up in the moment, the mind must have a way to switch gears into a special high speed thought process designed to instantly shred your reservations. All of those hours you’ve spent carefully thinking about why you shouldn’t take a risk, they’re gone. Poof. Meaningless drivel to you now. The voice of Lust, that reckless voice in my head, urged me to just get him inside me.
Logic said, “Stop right there, Gertie. You know you’ll get pregnant if you keep this up.”
Lust replied, “Keep this up? I sure hope he keeps it up! He needs to get that puppy deep, deep inside. Besides, we took a chance last month. Brad got in there and he absolutely whitewashed the place. Heck, I was ready to put a little apron and baker’s hat on that sucker after the way he pumped so much cream in there. You get what I’m sayin’, Logic? He could have made cream filled beaver bismarcks by the dozen! And guess what, nothing happened.”
“It should be a warning. Tell him to wrap that rascal first.” Logic growled.
“Quit being a bitch. You’re trying to kill the moment, Logic. We’ll just have to be sure to get the chubby pastry chef out of there in time. He can frost that tummy like a frickin’ sheet cake. Hell, he can make those boobs into cupcakes if it makes you feel any better.”
And that was all the encouragement I needed. “Thank you, ladies.”
“What? Ba—by?” Brad huffed out.
“Uh, just talking to myself. Never mind that. Now put that little pastry chef in the bakery.”
Brad’s strong arms lifted me up and placed me directly onto his throbbing erection. The way he used his arms to lift and lower me up and down drove me nearly out of my mind. Maybe I did lose my mind because a silly, inexplicable thought briefly interrupted me. I imagined a carousel horse going up and down on a pole. The thought of a whacky calliope rendition of “It’s a Small World” nearly killed the mood. But Lust prevailed once again, this time over Idiocy. We made love on that chair for what seemed to be an hour.
Now at that point you probably would have supposed that I’d have been howling out, “Yes, yes, yes!” in a lusty tone, like those women on the porn movies. So I want to talk a little about sex voices. My friends have said that everyone has a special voice that only comes out during sex. I guess I missed out on that gift.
When I was reaching my climax, there was no porn princess voice to be heard. Only me and my squeaky Irish brogue. “Oh, that’s it. That’s it. Oh, don’t you stop. I’m. Feeling. Every. Thick. Inch. Of. Your. Giant, Oh Jesus and his step-brother Mike! There it comes. Oh. Don’t. Don’t stop filling me up. Arghhh.” My brain was wobbling from the most intense orgasm. “I didn’t mean to sound like a pirate. Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop fuckin’ me like this.” I was talking dirty. A sure sign I was winding up for another mind splitting orgasm. I just wanted to feel Brad release himself inside of me, something about feeling him come, I wanted to feel it, consequences be damned. I hit another climax. “Fill me up. I want to feel it.” Logic must have clawed its way back from some shadowy corner because I suddenly changed my mind. “Wait! Don’t fill me up! Don’t fill me up! Pull the chef out! Put the frosting on top of the cake!”
“Wha—what?” Brad grunted.
Oh God, what was I saying? What else do guys call it? The next word that popped into my mouth was one I heard used during Leigh’s Operation Fast and Furriest at the Chicago Fur-con.
“Pull out your yogurt slinger!” Nice one, Gertie. What the hell?
Brad’s grunts and moans of passion were replaced by a fit of laughter. “Oh, I, it’s too much! Stop it, Gertie! You, you’re killing me here.”
In the nick of time I lifted my hips up and slid my body down. I was perfectly positioned on my knees and between his thighs. His hard cock was right in front of me. Poor Brad, his cock had been thrown from the heights of ecstasy and abandoned, exiled. I really wanted him to reach his own climax. This was the perfect time to attempt what I had started the other night.
“Ladies and gentlemen, meet the world’s sexiest pastry chef.” I chuckled as I wiped him off. From that point on it was a learning experience. In fact, I learned some valuable lessons. Oral sex is best left as a foreplay activity for a couple of reasons. It has a very personal taste, if you know what I mean. The other reason is, if you wait until after you’ve enjoyed a solid hour of crazy, wild sex, your man is very likely to be within minutes of erupting with a fortnight’s worth of love potion all at once. Without any warning. During your first ever attempt at a blowjob. Oh, it wasn’t a cute scene, like they lead you to believe in romance novels or Kelly’s sex education classes, when the chubby pastry chef decided it would be great fun to pretend it was at a carnival shooting gallery. You know the ones with the little tin ducks used as targets.
However, the only duck on that range was my dangling uvula. “Ping” direct hit. And the hits just kept coming. “Ping, ping, ping, ping.” Apparently, the chef also thought it would be a good idea to deliver a sequence of five rapid fire shots for good measure. My hand throttled his cock with a kung-fu grip and I pulled it from my mouth. I hung onto Brad by his disco stick and it was the only thing that kept me from falling to the floor. I must have looked like I was one of those fighter pilots steering through a furious dogfight by violently jerking the joystick in all directions. M
y esophagus joined in the party by providing a fierce and quite graceless performance when I hocked up Brad’s salty gift of slimy goop. All over his stomach. No apology would be forthcoming.
Brad placed the tips of his index fingers under either side of my jaw. He gingerly lifted my head up. I think he did it out of repulsion more than compassion with the way he used his giant set of human barbeque tongs. “Gertie? Are you okay?”
How do you even begin to answer a question like that? Unable to answer, I chose to punt. Seriously, I had just hurled the nastiest concoction imaginable onto his stomach. Brad helped me up and we switched places. He grabbed a nearby towel so I could at least clean the orifices of my face. “Brad? I only have one request for next time, and please note that next time is a very vague notion of a remote possibility, far in the future.”
“Sure.” Brad cleaned himself with another towel.
“A warning, please. I’d like to get out of the line of fire if possible. And I think blowjobs are overrated.” I could tell Brad was trying to hold back his laughter. To be honest, so was I. Still, he deserved to get played with. “Oh? What’s that? Did you find some amusement in that? Hmm? If you love me, you’ll give me a big wet kiss.” I jumped at Brad like a jaguar pouncing on its prey, but he escaped by executing a perfect ninja jump over the table.
Brad worked up a theatrical voice and he was full of sass. “Keep back, I say!” He twirled the wet towel, the disgustingly wet towel, into a whip. “If you come any closer, I’ll be forced to towel snap you!”
I was laughing but since I was stark naked and exposed, I wasn’t wholly convinced that my safety was assured. “You wouldn’t dare. Would you?”
“I don’t know.” Brad sang and observed the towel’s spin. “Oh, don’t worry, I was just playing. I wouldn’t. Probably. Especially since I have a black belt in locker room martial arts. I would hate to put a mark on that cute little ass of yours. Watch this.” Brad tightened the soaked towel and displayed a skill level that had been honed by years of high school gym classes and locker room horseplay. Brad lashed out the sunflower patterned, terrycloth bullwhip far clear of where I stood.
Unfortunately, it just happened to be the exact moment that Esmeralda, Randy, and Marie came into the kitchen. Esmeralda was in the exact spot for a perfect hit. Her short skirt left the very top part on the back of her thigh exposed.
CRACK!
Esmeralda squealed. She didn’t scream. She squealed. Everyone seemed to have become paralyzed. I covered my face with my hands and waited for the lightning bolts. We didn’t even care that we were naked. Brad stood there, towel hanging down from his hand, looking like he just witnessed Elvis in a hot pink thong doing a disco. I peeked out between my fingers. Esmeralda lifted her little skirt and examined the bright red welt that traveled up her thigh and up her left ass cheek. I gasped at what I saw. She didn’t just examine it, she admired it.
“Next time I come over, I’ll show you what a real whip looks like. And how to use it,” Esmeralda said in a steady voice that wasn’t quite a threat. She was looking at Brad’s body and then at mine. I knew that look in her eye. The same look that Randy had. I took the towel and quickly covered the chubby pastry chef.
I couldn’t believe we had lost track of time. Marie winked at me and announced, “Get dressed, lovebirds. We will be leaving for the Norse realm of Hel in fifteen minutes.”
Brad and I ran from the kitchen and headed up the stairs, our laughter echoed off the walls in the parlor below.
Chapter Seventeen
The Portal Opens
“When did you guys get here anyway?” Brad asked as we came down from my room.
“We’ve been here long enough, if that’s what you’re wondering. I would have knocked, but since I actually live here, it didn’t seem necessary.” Randy quipped. “But don’t worry, we didn’t go into the kitchen to catch the floorshow.”
“Speak for yourself.” Esmeralda sneered. “Don’t worry, I’m not one to judge. I have to say, the way you were riding him I half expected to hear a horse galloping.”
“Damn! Witch. I can’t believe you said that.” Randy chuckled with Esmeralda.
Always able to get the last word, Esmeralda mocked my Irish tinged pirate’s orgasm. “Aarrgh, don’t ya stop feckin’ me, Brad. Aarrgh.” She cackled like the witch she is.
Brad took a stand for me. “Esmeralda, shouldn’t you be out trying to steal some ruby slippers?”
I knew the wicked witch reference. “Ha! Good one, Brad. Fist me!”
Randy’s stunned face twitched. “Oh. My. God. Gertie. You didn’t just say that.”
“This, I want to see. You two are some kinky exhibitionists. Go on, Brad, do it. Judging by the size difference between you two, it’ll be like watching Andre the Giant using a munchkin for an oven mitt.” Esmeralda pumped her fist up and down.
“It’s fist bump, Sunshine.” Brad tapped my fist with his.
I snagged Randy and whispered, “She’s being quite sassy today. Even for her. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, she just…um, remind me to tell you later. I don’t want to get maimed right now.”
“Gather around children. Gather around.” Marie called for us. “We are about to enter a realm where our witchcraft may not work the way we would like it to. And since we are going to a spiritual plane, we require a shaman to guide us through the cosmic portal, as well as to retrieve us.”
“A shaman? Where do we get a shaman at the last minute?” Randy asked.
An older couple walked through the door of the drawing room. “Did someone ask for a shaman? Perhaps a shamaness? Ta-da! Two for one special, man.” It was a sweet old couple that I instantly recognized, Max and Millie, the parents of Leigh’s fiancé, Hunter. The loveable, leftover hippies own a little store in Chicago. Brad calls it a head shop, but I’ve never seen any heads there, only a wide variety of ornate pipes, hookahs, and other smoking accessories. Millie sells crystals and incense and provides her services as a psychic and medium. Max’s long grey hair was in a ponytail and his beard hung over his unbuttoned Hawaiian print shirt. Millie was in a tie dyed dress that hung down to her ankles.
“Millie? Max? I had no idea you’d be coming!” I ran to them and we joined in a three way hug. As usual, Max gave me the extended version hug with a few extra squeezes. As a dyed-in-the-wool hugger myself, I was impressed as always. Max is such a diehard hugger that he often doesn’t stop hugging me until Millie gives him a few pokes.
“Hey! For a second I thought Tommy Chong stopped by.” Randy patted Max on the back and gave Millie a hug. “Good to see you, Millie.”
“Max and Millie have agreed to perform the shamanistic rituals. They’ll be the gatekeepers on this side of the portal.” Marie explained.
“Yeah, man. Check it out.” Max cleared his throat and deepened his voice, although he still had that funny slur to it. “I am Max, gatekeeper to the portal of Helheim, man. Respect me!” I gave him my applause. Max was proud and grateful. “Yeah? Pretty cool, huh?”
“So righteous, man.” When addressing Max or Millie, I sometimes tried to speak in their hippie dialect out of respect.
“Check out Madam Millie, gatekeeperess to the portal. She’s already gettin’ started in the drawing room.” Max pointed out Millie, who was busy setting out incense burners and candles. He put his hands on his hips and looked around with admiration. “I’m diggin’ the trippy way you did this place. It’s like a museum for the surrealist art movement.” He nodded his head like he agreed with himself. “Yeah. Yeah.”
“Well, I don’t know what that means, but thanks. I just like a lot of color and letting my imagination run wild.” I watched Millie light candles and noticed Wanda wasn’t around.
“Hey, Marie? Where is Wanda? Isn’t she coming with?” I figured Wanda would be indispensable in a Norse magical realm.
“She’s already on the other side. She wanted to go first and ensure that it would be safe enough for all of us.”
“Uh, Marie? How can she tell you what it’s like over there?” Randy asked.
Marie held up a small black device that looked like a cellphone. “This. We just got these in. Witches can use these to communicate between dimensions. Not sure how good the range is on them yet. I’ve been in touch with Wanda. So far so good. They’re pretty handy. I need to come up with a good name to call them other than Interdimensional Special Telecommunication Device.”
Esmeralda gave it some thought. “I know! How about we call it a spell phone. Get it? Like a cellphone for witches?”
“Boooo!” moaned Randy.
“Hold on fools, I just received a message from Wanda. She said we’re clear to come over. She had one request. She wants us to bring Olaf along. I can only guess why.”
“He’d love that. Hold on.” I opened the front door and whistled as loud as I could. “Olaf! Olaf!” I called, and in less than a minute the rhinoceros sized dragon bounded over the yard and onto the porch. “Come on inside, boy.” I scratched his snout and led him into the drawing room. “You want to go for a walk together?” Olaf’s rattling purr was his way of saying yes.
“Millie, are you certain this portal will take us to Hel?”
“Yes, but technically speaking, we didn’t set this up to take you to Hel. Max and I have written out the magic code so that it will take you specifically to the home of Groa,” Millie explained.
Marie took a minute to consider Millie’s idea and nodded in approval. “Good thinking, Millie.”
We passed by Millie as we entered the drawing room. I noticed that she held a wooden bowl filled with a bright blue powder. “Max, baby? Come here, time to slap your bongos.” Millie squeaked. In the middle of the room was a garden arch I recognized as one of the arches from my back yard. “Everyone, hold hands.”
Max’s bongos started out slowly and the candles threw shadows on the walls that seemed to pick up on the rhythm. Millie began her dance. She sang and chanted. I couldn’t make out any of the mysterious words that sprung from her lips. She tossed the powder at the arch and then over us. Nothing happened.
Romancing the Paranormal Page 81
