by Jamie Knight
"I'm guessing that’s not her given name," I said.
"Oh, it is."
"It is?"
"Yeah, saw her driver’s license and everything because I didn’t believe it either at first. She's like a third generation Wiccan or something. They all have names like that. Her dad is something like Wolf Birch and her mom is Raven Sage."
"Cool."
"I think I still have some," Kristen said, finishing off her eight glass of punch.
She looked through her clutch-like pocketbook and sure enough, she had a small metal tin about half full of pastels in there. Checking to see if anyone was looking, she popped open the container and let me take two out before getting them back into her pocket.
I popped them both in my mouth at the same time. Lavender was right: they were chewy, like gummy bears and they didn't taste too bad either. I was just being taken over with an abiding sense of calm when my phone rang.
"Hello," I said, turning away from Kristen, who was in the process of pouring yet another glass of punch.
"Hey princess," Logan said from the other end.
"Hi," I said, unsure how to respond.
"How's the reunion?"
"Like watching paint dry. Kristen is the most interesting person here. I have resorted to drugs. Well, kind of."
"Kind of drugs?"
"Yeah."
"What kind of drugs, specifically?"
"Some health food thing," I said, vaguely, since I still didn’t know, myself.
"Oh, yeah, those. Get them from Kristen and her hippie friend?"
"Yeah," I said, guessing that Ms. Moon had tried to sell him on them before, too.
"Would you like to come over after?"
"To your place?"
"Yeah, we can listen to records or something."
"Sure," I said.
"Great, call me when you want me to send a limo around."
"Sarah or Timothy?" I asked, meaning the driver.
"Whichever you want," he said.
I definitely wanted Sarah. She had taken good care of me both times she had to drive me home and honestly didn't seem to pass any judgement. The closet thing to a prying question she asked was if I wanted to see a doctor after my first sex adventure at Logan's place. I must have looked a lot worse than I felt.
Kristen and I danced to some cheesy music that was popular when we graduated. We did our best to make small talk with our old classmates, but it proved difficult.
Then the reunion finally started winding down and I helped Kristen into an Uber; she been far too drunk to drive.
After I helped her into the back seat, she gave me a big hug and said, “We’ll have to do this again sometime.”
“Hopefully not for another five years, at least,” I joked.
“Love you. Have a nood gight.”
“Love you too, drunkie,” I told her, shutting the door and waving my thanks to her skeptical-looking Uber driver.
When the car was out of sight, I got my phone out of my coat and hit redial.
"Sarah," I said, when Logan picked up.
As the limo maneuvered up the road, my mind raced, tying to figure out just what the hell I was doing. Not that it really mattered. It was already far too late. I had made my decision and would have to live with it.
"Do you know the way?" Sarah asked, as I got out.
"I think so," I said.
“Okay, have a good night.”
Sarah closed the back door and drove off as I started up the stairs. My shoes were flats so I didn't have nearly the same trouble scaling the mini mountain of marble. Grandpa Logan must have been really compensating for something.
Going mostly on pretty vague memory, I found my way to the parlor. Logan was sitting on the couch, wearing a mostly deconstructed version of his signature suit, a timber of vodka in his hand.
Morrissey was on the stereo, crooning about how he is human and needs to be loved.
"Hey, sweetheart," he said, not turning to face me.
I froze in the doorway, not sure what to do.
"It's okay," he said, patting the seat next to him.
Cautiously, I went over and sat down next to him. The fine leather was creaking under me.
"Sorry for my appearance; I was at the club with the boys. Figured I would drink something decent."
That certainly explained the 'sweetheart' stuff; Logan was clearly as hammered as a nail.
"Oh, no, that just won't do,” he said, looking over at me and seeing my dress.
"Oh, right, I was a bit of a joke," I said.
"I get it," Logan said, without a trace of humor, "but take it off, please. I’m in the mood to see you with nothing on."
"Okay," I said, slipping off the dress and placing it on the couch beside me.
If it were anyone else, I would have told them where to go and what to do when he got there, but Logan had been so polite about it and seemed genuinely desperate to see me naked.
All of a sudden, I started to feel a bit intimidated. I told myself that it wasn't that big of a deal, really. I still had my underwear on, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen me naked before.
"Thank you," he said, seeming genuinely relieved.
He put a hand on the inside of my bare thigh, inches away from my silk-clad pussy. My breath caught in my throat and I thought he was going to fuck me right then and there. Push me down, yank off my panties and pound my little pussy until I screamed. I trebled with desire at the very thought.
"Would you like a drink?" he asked.
"Only of your cum," I blurted out, embarrassed to sound like such a slut.
That didn't make what I’d said untrue, though.
"You got it," he said, unzipping his pants and pulling out his huge, hard cock.
I could feel my heartbeat quicken in my chest as I took hold of his throbbing shaft, my hand barely fitting around his beautiful cock. He let out a soft moaning sound at my touch.
I opened my mouth and lowered it down on to the head of his cock, sucking lightly while stroking his shaft. He put his hand on the back of my head and I did not resist. Instead I did what he wanted, moving slowly down his shaft until I was deep throating him.
Giving him a minute to enjoy the feeling, I moved back up his shaft until I was about halfway down. Gently cupping his balls with my other hand, I sucked him as hard and fast as I could, it taking only minutes for him to fill my warm little mouth with his sweet, hot cum. I swallowed it down, savouring every sweet, nutty drop.
I stayed down there a good while, planting soft kisses up and down the shaft of his cock, stroking him as I did. Logan started stroking my back and I let him, even when his hand found its way down on to my ass, giving it a firm squeeze. I hummed contentedly, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock.
It wasn't until his hand reached around to my pussy that I felt the need to intervene. I sat back against the couch, opening my legs to give him easier access, switching his cock from my right hand to my left so I could keep stroking him.
Soon it was too much and I slid off my panties, letting Logan slip his fingers inside me. He deftly worked my pussy as I stroked his cock, the two of us kissing as we pleasured each other, both cumming at the same time. I barely had time to recover from my massive orgasm before Logan swooped me up, as was his way, and carried me up to the bedroom.
Logan lay me out on the bed, quickly taking down his pants. I was still wearing my bra, so I took it off and threw it aside, unleashing my tits. Logan couldn’t have been more delighted, taking both of my breasts in his warm, strong hands, giving each of my nipples love in their own turn.
He then moved down to my belly. I lay back and enjoyed the feeling as he worked his way down to my pelvis on the way to my eagerly waiting pussy.
He licked more gently than usual, taking his time to work my clit with his finger while he lapped at my pussy lips. Usually he would start off soft and then get harder, stopping and massaging my
pussy as I orgasmed. This time he licked and teased and caressed me until he had coaxed me to a lower lever but still very pleasurable orgasm. Not screaming and squirting but still shaking and moaning.
When I had come down, while he was still massaging my pussy lips with his thumb, Logan got on top of me, stoking his cock against my pussy. It was the first time we had done it that way, Logan no doubt usually figuring that the difference in our height would pose a problem. Now that he was liquored up, though, there seemed to be nothing he wouldn’t try.
It was a bit odd, looking at Logan's neck while he fucked me, I won't lie, but it still felt amazingly good, his cock going deeper inside me than it ever had before, bringing me to the kind of screaming, squirting, body shaking orgasm I had come to expect whenever I was with Logan.
I had wanted to do anal and I guessed Logan probably did, too, as he seemed to like fucking me in the ass as much as I liked to get fucked. We never got there, though.
I hadn’t gotten to his house until late and Kristen's drugs worked quicker than I imaged. Without really meaning to or in anyway planning it, Logan lay down next to me after we had both cum and we fell asleep in each other's arms.
Before I knew it, I heard Logan's alarm clock screaming in unearthly shriek, likely intentionally designed so that no mortal soul could possibly ignore it.
"Wake up; you have to go!" Logan said, shaking me roughly as though the alarm wouldn’t have woken me.
"Wha-" I started to ask.
"You have to go," he said, cutting me off, as he was picking up my bra from where it had landed and throwing it at me.
I was about to ask what was happening but he had run out of the room before I could. No sooner did I get my bra fastened than Logan returned with my panties, dress and shoes, all of which I had left in the parlor the night before. Throwing these on the bed, he turned his attention to getting his pants on and calling Timothy to tell him to bring the limo around.
As the limo headed to the road, I saw another one come in. It was a bit shorter than the one I was in, looking closer to a long sedan but with dark, probably bulletproof windows letting everyone know someone important was inside, without letting anyone see who they were.
And that was the pressing question running through my mind.
Who was coming to visit Logan?
Was it his girlfriend?
His wife? I wondered, with a lump in my throat.
I tried my best to process it all, not an easy task in my sleep addled state. In the end I just gave up and cried.
I didn’t know what was going on but I did know that I had been rushed out of his house and now someone else was being brought there.
How could I have been so stupid?
Chapter Sixteen - Logan
It had only been a week and I already missed her.
I really didn’t understand at first.
Why would Kora be so sweet and then cut me off like that?
I'd never imaged she would sleep with me. I mean, literally sleep with me, like cuddled up warm all night, but we had and it was incredible. Especially in the morning, feeling her warmth against me, seeing the rising sun cast its ray though her hair. I had dreamt of it but never really thought it would come true.
And then it had.
Briefly.
Then she was gone, and at first I told myself it was just the way she normally acted, running away after we were intimate.
But then it hit me. I could have sworn that I actually heard music. Just one peek out from behind my ego, not an easy task considering the size of it sometimes, I knew exactly what I had done. Or, rather, what I hadn't.
I had really wanted to explain. Only looking back did I realize what a jerk I had been. I'd basically thrown her out after we had had awesome sex and literally slept together. To make matters worse, my manner of goodbye had many things in common with the infamous college break pool party many years ago.
Jesus, I had talked the way characters in cheesy action movies do about impending nuclear strikes from Russia or whoever the fuck we were fighting with at the time. Lengthy explanations really weren't in the cards right then. I had to get her out before my appointment.
No wonder she didn't want to talk to me. I really wished I could just take time to at least tell her what was going on. Who was coming. Surely there would have been time for that as I threw her clothes at her and pulled my pants on. But in the heat of the moment, I was just surprised I had fallen asleep the night before, and in a rush to get ready for the day.
Making matters worse, I think she might have seen the car come in. The big sedan that looked like a small limo, especially with the darkened windows. I couldn't even imagine who she might have thought was in there. Some hidden underworld figure, perhaps, or maybe even the wife that I didn't actually have.
I didn’t have anyone else since Kora and never had, ever since way back when. Since that night on the mountain, my sex life had really been all about her, pathetic as that fucking sounds, since there hadn’t been any of it between the pool party and now. Though, to be fair, she had no real way of knowing that.
Like when I called her that first night, a few lines of text on the way home not being nearly enough for me, I had a tumbler in one hand and my phone in the other. Only now the tumbler had vodka with the added danger of an energy drink. A glowing green cocktail called Vodka Gears that my friend had introduced me to in college. I tried not to drink it much these days, it being bad for my health and all, but I saved it for when I really needed it, and now was one of those times.
I took another sip, continually hitting redial with my nearly cramped finger.
One ring.
Two.
Three.
Four.
And then I heard, for what seemed like the millionth time, Kora's beautiful voice telling me she can't answer the phone and to please leave a message and she would get right back to me. If I had been able to talk to her, I'd have suggested that she rethink that last part of the message, since it clearly wasn’t something she intended to do.
I’d also let her know that I loved her madly and would never let her go. Or at least never get over her.
It had taken a while to come to that realization, but it was true. I had looked at it every possible way and there was no real alternative. I was with Kora or I suffered from terminal heartbreak.
I dialed again, killing the call almost immediately, remembering that I had just called literally seconds before. I guess some things really can't change. No matter how much you might wish they could.
I took another sip of Vodka Gears and tried to relax. It wouldn't do anyone any good if I'd had a heart attack. Most people would have said I was too young, with my whole life ahead of me, but bad tickers ran in my dad's side of the family as much as towering height and dashing good looks.
My Uncle Rory, who actually drank less than I did, went through a massive coronary embolism when he was 26. He never touched alcohol again. In some ways I wished I shared his discipline. Not the belts to the bare ass I later discovered grandpa had handed out to his kids like candy mints but the willpower to break a habit you've carried for eleven years. I raised a toast to Uncle Rory, wherever he may be. We had lost touch over the years.
The phone rang suddenly and I jerked in surprise. Part of me, the eternal optimist part that all the other parts wanted to beat up, really hoped that it was Kora.
"Dad?" I said, that being almost as much of a surprise.
"Hey, son," dad said, seeming slightly surprised that I had picked up.
"How are you?" I asked, not expecting him to call.
He had never been one to like talking on the phone, and I wasn’t exactly that type either, I suppose getting that from him. But we had been making some in roads lately due to dealing with grandpa’s estate and our business plans. It had helped us to form a closer bond.
"Better than expected, honestly. All I need is for your mother to come back and I will have life ba
ck exactly the way I like it."
I hadn't really thought about that. I thought I was upset about Kora. Dad had actually found the love of his life, even married her and still lost her and not just because she was mad about something he had done. I could still hope that Kora would call. He had no such hope with mom.
"How are things with you?" he asked, after I didn’t respond to what he had said.
I tried to never encourage his false delusions about my mom returning from the grave. I knew that logically he knew it couldn’t happen. But it seemed to make him feel better to pretend or hope.
"Wow, let's see," I said, looking for a good place to start. "I have billions of dollars I never asked for and never really earned, a house so big you need a map and compass to get from the bedrooms to the kitchen and giant hole where my heart should be. On the upside, I still have my record collection and this sweet record player grandpa left me. Lou, Steven and Robert are really helping me through."
"Lou, Steven and Robert?"
"Reed, Morrissey and Smith," I said.
"Well, now, there's a supergroup!" dad said, with a laugh.
I had forgotten how funny he could be.
"I can't disagree," I said.
"What have you got on now?"
"Emperor," I said.
"Can't say I'm familiar," dad said, trying to be nice.
I held the phone out towards the speaker so he could hear a bit.
"The track is called 'With Strength I Burn,'" I said.
"Are you feeling okay, son?" dad asked, sounding concerned.
"Do you remember Kora?" I asked.
"Kora Evans, from your school? Pretty girl, kinda curvy, bright red hair?"
"Wow, if you had to give a description to a sketch artist the guy would be caught in a day," I said.
"I do my best. What about her?"
"We, er, made contact recently," I said.
"In the, um, biblical sense?" dad asked, the southern gentleman not fully pulled out of him yet.
"Yeah, well, to be accurate it was Kristen who made first contact. It was an accident, as I understand it. Kristen just sort of walked in to where Kora worked and they seem to have struck things up again. Kristen, bless her heart, more or less ambushed us by inviting both Kora and me to a dinner party without telling us."
