Love Sweet Sex Magic

[1]

Chapter One

 

“Cage or collar? What’s it going to be?”

Malaes curled his lip back in disgust. I didn’t give in. You always had to be firm with a slave. This was his punishment and he needed to take it.

“Collar,” he finally decided.

I was surprised, but that was his choice. He stood still while I reached up and circled the leather collar around his neck. It was dyed bright red and contrasted nicely with his pale skin and shiny, black hair.

The moment after I fixed the buckle in place, the change took place. He shrank down into a large tomcat, the collar shrinking with him. He angrily shook his head and twitched his tail. A moment later he dashed out of my den.

I much prefer it when Malaes wore his cock cage. He stayed in human form and I could admire his naked body, but on the other hand he was a distraction that way.

I went looking for a different distraction. It was a wonderfully sunny and breezy autumn morning. I could smell the change of the seasons on the air when I left my family’s ancient home and headed toward the disgustingly boring suburban housing development on the other side of the orchard.

My family had lived on this land for generations. I had been gone many years when my mother fell ill and was forced to sell some of the land to survive. When I returned half our land was occupied by interlopers. I blamed myself but instead of taking petty revenge, I looked to my grandmother for advice and decided to use them to my advantage. 

A modern witch had to embrace modern solutions. 

As a modern witch I immediately regretted my choice of dress. It was traditional black with plenty of lace, but I should have worn tights or stockings instead of bare legs. No matter. My jacket was wool and warm, even if it left my legs bare. I eschewed the non-traditional pointed conical hat and wore a much more stylish beret. If witches actually rode brooms for transportation I would have embraced the switchover to vacuum cleaners. Much more efficient.

My first stop was at the Drysdale’s house. I needed supplies for the potions I would be brewing. Officially and legally I was a licensed therapist who dabbled in natural medicines and herbs to alleviate the problems of modern life. It was a convincing lie my neighbors were happy to believe. Besides, the basic upper middle-class white women, married and divorced and otherwise, were always looking for some alternative to make their empty lives fuller.

I was just providing a service they needed.

The Drysdale’s house was on the edge of the development. It was just another ticky-tack house of tan siding and white trim. There were three designs of houses in Apple Meadows. This was doubled to six when the builders realized they could simply flop the blueprints over and have a mirror image of the three houses. The owners could choose between tan or beige or sandstone siding with white or antique white trim.

It was truly horrible.

I emerged from my orchard and walked through the Drysdale’s backyard. Both Mrs. and Mr. Drysdale were gone to work for the day. Or perhaps Ellen Drysdale was shopping. I had never met the two. I had only ever spoken to their son who still lived at home and was a college dropout.

He was, however, doing well financially with his marijuana resale business. It was an illegal business, I had warned him, but like so many young men he wasn’t worried about the future. He bought his supplies across the border in Massachusetts and sold to college and high school students who either couldn’t buy on their own or were too lazy to make the hour drive.

He also sold the devil’s lettuce to at least one neighbor, a witch who lived in the farmhouse on the other side of the orchard.

I didn’t need the weed, but I did enjoy it. I also did occasionally need it for some of my potions. “Nick?” I called as I opened the back door. I had punched in the security code he had given me. That was a foolish choice of his, but twenty-one year old boys weren’t known for their wisdom. 

The pungent smell of burning weed filled the air. I knew he was downstairs in the basement tending to his handful of plants he was growing. He had no talent for agriculture. Nicholas Drysdale had two talents: selling pot to kids and fucking middle-aged witches.

I tried not to think about the fact that I was close in age to Nick’s parents. I especially tried not to think about it when I was in bed with him.

There was no reply and I closed the door behind me. Walking through the kitchen I headed to the basement door and opened it. The smell of weed hit me in the face like an elemental force. If his parents didn’t know he was getting high during the day, fucking into the afternoon, and selling at night they were idiots.

“Nick?” I called again as I headed down the stairs. I grimaced as I looked at the recently redecorated living room on the edge of the kitchen. Shiplap? Really Mrs. Drysdale? Will you follow every trend?

“Down here,” he called up to me. 

I walked confidently down the stairs, even in my high-heeled boots because they had a practical heel, and into the warmth of his hideaway. A third of the basement was for the boiler and storage. The second third was nominally his bedroom which contained a bed and a dresser and a ridiculous video game setup. The last third was devoted to an indoor growing operation that somehow never seemed to generate money for my dear Nicholas.

“I have a need,” I said to him.

Nicholas was slightly overweight and had shaggy hair. His youthful muscles were still holding on, but he wasn’t getting enough exercise in his new lifestyle. He had a handsome face and was growing a beard that was still charming because it was short. He wore a t-shirt with a ridiculous design for some obscure band and jeans. Inside of those jeans was a cock that had pleased me to no end.

But I wasn’t going to let him know that.

“A need for me?” he asked crudely. He set down the pipe he had been smoking and looked over his plants. I could have given him both practical advice and unnatural assistance in making his plants grow. I did neither.

“A need for your product,” I told him. 

“How much?”

I told him and he was disappointed at the amount. “So little?”

“My needs are limited.”

“How are you going to pay?” he asked as he produced a small baggie from a locked box under his bed.

“How would you like your payment?” I asked, sitting down on the edge of his mattress. It smelled of weed and his sweat. It wasn’t a bad combination. I crossed my legs and let my dress slid up my thigh exposing much more skin than was acceptable.

I wasn’t an acceptable woman. I was a witch.

“Cash would be nice,” he said, staring at my leg.

I shifted on his bed. My dress wasn’t low cut, but I do have impressive tits thanks to both genetics and a little unnatural help because I was vainer than I liked to admit. Just the shift was enough to draw his eyes up to my chest. “I’m a little short of cash right now,” I lied. “But I can offer you a blowjob or an enthusiastic fuck.”

I blinked innocently at him. I had happened upon Nicholas’s little operation because the smell wafted over to my house and, like I’ve already said, I have needs both physical and material and magical.

“Does it make you uncomfortable having sex for weed?” he asked me. “Doesn’t that make you a prostitute?”

“No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” I told him. “Sex work is an honorable career. What would be wrong with it?”

“Uh…” If he was trying to shame me, it wasn’t going to work. “But if you don’t like it I can offer you fifteen dollars for that small baggie,” I said indicating the marijuana in his hand. It was half the usual payment. Thirty dollars for a fuck with a beautiful woman—I’m not modest or delusional—was a good deal. What Nicholas didn’t know was that I wanted to fuck him for reasons that he couldn’t possibly imagine. “Nothing I guess,” he finally decided.

“So how would you like your payment?” I asked him as I rose up from my seat on his bed, took the baggie out of his hand and slipped it into my purse where it would be safe, and pressed up close to him. “Hmm?” I could feel his cock through his jeans. He was hard. That was no surprise. To push things alone, I kissed him on the lips.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned.

Young men are so easy.

“A fuck it is then,” I decided for him as if there had been any doubt to what was going to happen.

Stepping back from him I took off my jacket and placed it on one of the chairs that filled the small room. After that I untied my dress at the waist. I love wrap dresses because they are easy to get in and out of. Letting it slip from my shoulders and onto the floor I stood boldly in front of him.

Young men are so easy especially when presented with a woman in elaborate lingerie. And I wasn’t wearing lingerie that was all that elaborate. Push up bra. High-waisted panties. Both black lace. That was it. But that was all it took.

“Fuuckk,” he breathed as he sat back onto his bed. 

“We already established that,” I said, enjoying his stare. I understand that many women don’t like to be leered at by men, but I wanted Nicholas to leer at me. I took power from his gaze. But, that being said, if he had done the same thing to me on the street, I would have put a curse on him. Something that would make his dick fail to work for a week so that he thought he had cancer of the cock. “Stand up and take off your clothes. It’s easier to have sex that way.”

He struggled and stumbled out of his clothes. It would have gone smoother if he had removed his sneakers first, but youngsters need to figure out things on their own.

He was naked before I had even considered removing any of my lingerie. I was determined to leave my boots on. Call me traditional, but I think they’re sexy and Nicholas was the type to either have a foot or shoe fetish. Maybe both.

His cock caught my attention. It always did. While not excessively long, it was thick. I liked that. More importantly my eyes focused on his balls. They were my primary interest now. Not his cock. Not his weed. What he had in his balls. For such a critical component in potion work it was both surprisingly easy and difficult to acquire. 

Nicholas’s body was on that cusp. If he kept using his steady supply of weed and kept snacking and he’d cross the boundary from burley to fat. He still had his muscles, even if they were partly hidden at the moment. 

Of course his cock was already hard. Young men are like that: always ready to fuck at the drop of a dress.

Doffing my beret, I reached out and caressed his manhood. He groaned at the attention. “Ready for me?” 

“Uh-huh.”

“You’ll have to help me out a bit. I’m a little older than you and it takes a girl some time and effort to be fucked by such a lovely cock.”

Nicholas didn’t have to be asked twice. He went to his knees in front of me. Without asking permission—permission that I would have happily given—he yanked down my panties and pressed his face into my cunt.

Styles and fashion come and go, but the scent of a woman’s sex always brings a man to his knees regardless of what she has done with it. Shaving is fine. Completely natural is fine. I split the difference and carefully groomed myself to an appropriate length and shape. It was just easier to deal with all types of lovers that way. I’m sure young Nicholas would have preferred a completely bare cunt, but he got what I wanted to give him.

Leaning back I let his tongue explore my sex. Nicholas wasn’t the best at eating pussy, but he was learning. I wasn't interested in his cunnilingus technique anyway. I wanted his cock and I was going to get it.

Still, it was nice to have the attention. I wasn’t that much older than Nicholas, but my public age was old enough to cause a scandal if news of our liaison were to get out. I liked that. As luck would have it, it doesn’t take much to get me wet, especially when I want to fuck and need to fuck.

“Okay, quit wasting time. I’m wet enough.”

“I thought older women loved getting their pussy licked.” Nicholas was always a little slow on the uptake.

“I’m ready,” I said pushing him aside to get to the bed. I still had my bra on and didn’t bother to remove it. This was transactional sex. Nothing more. I needed him to fuck me and he’d get what he wanted for it. 

Nicholas climbed on top of me and I happily spread my legs for him. He wasn’t the smoothest of lovers, but he’d only had a few before me while I’d had dozens. More than I could remember. Still, it felt wonderful when his big cock went into me. Despite myself I let out a little groan. I didn’t want him to know how satisfying it was. 

I didn’t just lay there doing nothing. I took great pleasure in my work and there was no reason not to take pleasure in the necessary sex that went along with it. I caressed his body. I thrusted upward with my hips to meet his. I made it better for myself, but there’s only so much an innocent witch can do when bedding a rather clumsy lover. For all his wonderful cock, Nicholas was adequate at best. 

The good part was that a nice thick cock was all it took to get me off and because he was so eager Nicholas could finish in less than five minutes. He came in me and I savored every pulse of his cock spurting thick semen into me. 

He lay atop me for a minute, huffing and puffing. It was nice but started to get stifling. 

“I need to pee,” I announced to him.

Nicholas begrudgingly rolled off me and I daintily walked to the bathroom, carefully snagging my small purse and panties as I went. I doubted Nicholas saw that. If he did notice he wouldn’t say anything because he’s a man and they so often let women have their little privacy especially when it came to sex and the cleanup afterwards.

Silver or glass really make no difference. Sitting on the toilet in the half bath I carefully inserted the silver tube into my cunt and pushed out. I didn’t need a huge amount of semen, but the more I could easily produce from Nicholas’s deposit would mean I wouldn’t have to return to him right away. I rather liked silver because it traveled well, but the advantage of glass was that I could see how much was there.

When I removed the tube I could see that it was nearly full, no dip test needed. Practically speaking, I was stealing in repurposing Nicholas’s semen, but since it wouldn’t be producing a child he didn’t care. At least, that’s what I assumed. You can never tell with some men.

Coming out of the bathroom I made a show of adjusting my panties as I gathered up my dress and slid it back on. Nicholas watched me, his tree-like body sprawled on his bed, thick but soft cock now flopped against his thigh. It was an inviting sight, but I had other duties to fulfill today. 

“You’re leaving already?” he asked, complaining.

“I’m a busy woman and I have what I came for.” I carefully slipped the silver tube into my purse and made a show of displaying the baggie of marijuana. Let him think what he wanted to think.

“Can I fuck you again?” he asked. “I’m horny.”

“You’re soft,” I pointed out.

“That can be fixed with your mouth,” he said hopefully.

I laughed and went to the bed while tying my dress into place. I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “For a blowjob and a fuck you’ll have to give me more than twice this,” I told him indicating the buds in the baggie. 

“I can do that,” he said eagerly.

“But I don’t want it.” I found my beret and jacket and headed toward the stairs. 

He didn’t chase after me. He never did. 

That was good. I had other places to be.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Joy Schwabach was a confused woman. I could have sympathized with her, but I didn’t. Instead I seduced her. It had taken a long time, over a year, but I had gotten her to the point where it was time to force her to make a decision.

Was it just random coincidence that she was married to pastor of one of the local churches or was it the celestial forces that controlled the world making it so?

I walked briskly from the Drysdale house down to Joy’s. Since this was now suburbia there was no one around. No cars (all at work). No kids (all at school). Nothing moving.

Almost nothing.

It was less than a quarter of a mile and it might as well have been Desolation Alley. The roads were all curved and it was impossible to see from one house to the next, but that didn’t matter because they all looked alike anyway.

When I rang the bell at the Schwabach’s house Joy came to the door right away. As if she were expecting me. I never called ahead of time and she was always waiting for me. 

It’s amazing what a minor charm and control spell can do.

“Marg! So wonderful to see you,” she greeted me at the door.

I leaned in for a pleasant, friendly kiss of greeting between two friends. It went on her cheek. It would have been better to kiss her lips, but the potion I planted on her worked primarily through vapors and it didn’t take much. It was just a mild aphrodisiac. It wouldn’t work if she wasn’t already primed for an encounter. I wasn’t going to rape her. I wanted her to participate willingly.

“I have what you wanted,” I told her, opening my purse and displaying one of my many small silver tubes.

Joy’s eyes went wide. “You were serious.”

“Of course I was serious. Why would I lie to you?”

There were many reasons to lie to Joy, but this wasn’t one of them.

“Does it work?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” I promised her. 

She looked nervously up and down the road as if letting in the local therapist would somehow cause her problems. There wasn’t anyone watching us, of course. Only then did she pull me inside. 

I shed my jacket and beret, hanging them on the coat rack, making myself at home. Joy and Margery were friends, but Joy was an unwilling and unwitting thrall of Luna. 

We sat down at her kitchen table where she had been doing some sort of work for her husband’s church. It was unfinished. It always was. She offered me tea and coffee. I accepted the tea and carefully placed the silver tube I had promised her on the place setting opposite mine. 

She looked at it nervously as she prepared our drinks. “How does it work.”

“Just two drops in his drink, that’s all you need.”

“And you say it’s better than any of those ED pills?”

“Better because it gets his cock hard and gives him the desire he didn’t know he was missing,” 

Joy gasped in delight and faux-shock at my use of obscenity. “Will it really?” 

“Guaranteed,” I declared while opening the stopper on the end and tilting it over Joy’s cup of tea.

She looked at me in shock as two drops went into her cup. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you want to try it out first?” I asked her and then put two drops in my own cup. She just looked unable to comprehend what I had just done.

“Should we?” she whispered to me. There was no one else in the house let alone this end of the development to hear her.

“We should,” I said firmly and lifted the cup to my lips to take a sip. I could have doused myself beforehand with an antidote, but why would I want to do that and avoid all the fun? Besides, I needed to test my own product.

All the while I was wondering what Joy would think about the devil’s lettuce I had hidden in my purse. It didn’t matter.

I watched her expectantly until she lifted her cup to her lips and sipped. “Is that enough?” she asked.

It was but why take chances? “You’ll need to drink it all,” I said and sipped more at my own.

I had to stop myself from laughing because we were using her grandmother’s fine china tea set hand-painted with pink roses to consume a love potion. In the pastor’s house no less.

The conversation died out for a moment as we worked on our drinks. I liked the slightly fuzzy feeling the tea and the potion gave me. Joy was a middle-aged woman, but in extraordinarily good shape. Okay, she dyed her hair an unnatural shade of red and her black roots would occasionally creep in, but other than that, she was beautiful. Her eyes were bright blue, her skin lightly tanned from summer and genetics. I was eager to get her out of her clothes. 

“Oh my,” she suddenly exclaimed. 

“Problem?”

“I’m a little dizzy...and you seem to be glowing,” she told me. She unsteadily put her tea cup back into its saucer. 

“Then it’s working.” I said and reached across the table to caress her hand. That wasn’t good enough for the both of us. A second later I was caressing her cheek...and then I was leaning across the table to kiss her lips.

She used too much lipstick, but I could easily move past that. Getting up from my chair, I moved around the corner of the table and pulled her to her feet. She was a few inches shorter than me, which was amplified since I was still wearing my boots.

Her kiss, however, was divine. I wonder if her husband knew how divinely she kissed.

“This is wrong,” she told me but didn’t pull away. I could feel her soft breasts pressing into my chest, just below mine. She wasn’t trembling because my potion had steadied her nerves, but I knew she would have been if I hadn’t dosed her.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because…” she seemed to forget her reasoning. The potion can have a mild amnesiac affect. “Because I’m married.”

“Not because I’m a woman?” I asked her and kissed her again, this time wiggling my tongue into her mouth between her brightly painted red lips.

We kissed for a long time. She was enjoying it as much as I was. “No, not because you’re a woman,” she admitted to herself as much as me. I had no trouble bedding men or women, but it was probably different for the wife of a pastor.

I dropped my hands from her waist down to feel the top curve of her ass. She had an amazing body for someone well into her forties. Since she was at home she was casually dressed in a sweater and jeans, both of which worked for her. I kissed her again. “Am I the first woman you’ve kissed?” I asked her. “Really kissed?”

She admitted yes with a nod of her head. “This is so wrong.”

“Do you know how many women I’ve kissed?” I asked her.

“No.”

“That’s too bad. I’ve lost count. I was hoping you’d know.”

Joy, to her credit, laughed at my terrible joke. “But how many?” she asked me, curious and eager.

“I don’t truly know,” I admitted. “Once you hit a certain number, you stop keeping track.”

Her eyes went wide.

“I want to fuck you, Joy Schwabach. I’m going to fuck you. But you get to choose which bed we do it in.”

“Should we?” she asked, it was the last of her resistance.

“If you’re asking that question it means you want to fuck me in your marriage bed, but you’ll change the sheets before your husband gets home.”

We kissed again, and then she took my hand and led me through her house.

They weren’t rich but they were more than well-off. The bedroom we arrived in was well-appointed with carefully selected art on the walls, rich bed covers, a thick carpet, and sturdy hand-crafted furniture. It was pretty but it hardly felt lived in.

Between her museum-quality bedroom and her requests for a magical aphrodisiac I was starting to have real questions about Joy’s personal life. 

Luckily she had me as an advisor, friend, counselor, and—shortly—lover to help her out.

“What do we do now?” she asked as we walked through the door. She dropped my hand, nervous about the next step.

“We do this,” I said, pressing myself closely to her body and kissing her again. I wasn’t nervous at all. Of course, I’d had dozens more lovers than Joy, who had admitted only three to me, including her current husband. She had also confided to me that she had only told him about one. 

The only reason I had to be nervous was if Joy would have chickened out of our tryst. We were in her bedroom kissing and she was under the influence of my rather potent potion. She wasn’t going to chicken out. Sex is inevitable like the moon. There’s no stopping it from rising.

She allowed me to take the lead, which made things easier. I pulled off her shirt. She had a boring, conservative beige bra on underneath. She resisted ever so slightly, just enough to argue with herself that I had forced her along this path, when I reached for the button and zipper on her jeans, but they opened up easily enough. 

I didn’t shove my hand down into her panties. I pulled her over to the bed and guided her down on it. She wasn’t wearing shoes. I pulled off her socks before using her help to get her jeans off. 

Moving back, I stood next to the bed and untied my dress and let it drop to the floor.

“You’re so pretty,” she said, her mind more than a little addled by my magic. 

I couldn’t help but smile at her as I bent over to unzip my boots and kick them off. If I had been with a man I would have aimed my ass toward my partner, but Joy was a woman and needed to be carefully seduced. Just because I could brew a mean love potion didn’t mean its power was absolute. It wouldn’t make her do something she didn’t truly want to do.

Once my boots were off I joined her on the bed, crawling atop her body, kissing her lips, her cheeks, her neck, and then down her chest to her tits.

Getting her bra off was the most difficult part. She had wonderful tits and they resisted the removal of her bra. As a woman I hate to admit it, but I’m still stymied by the damn device more often than I like to admit. We giggled a bit as our combined efforts actually slowed down the process. 

In the end it was Joy who sat up and took it off herself. She was proud of herself for having done so and I rewarded her by pressing her back down into the bed and sucking on her lovely light brown nipples. 

She sighed and lost herself in the moment.

From there going down on her was easy. I could have made the big moment easier on her by slipping a hand into her boring beige panties and rubbing her little clit until she came, but there is a point where a woman needs to admit to herself exactly who she is.

Taking off panties is a simple action compared to removing a bra. It was also necessary because her panties were so boring and unsexy that wearing them might have constituted a crime against nature. She briefly held her knees together after they were off but I was having none of that. Pushing her legs open I went right for her cunt.

Even though she was a pastor’s wife, Joy was not dead below the waist. She had trimmed and shaped her curly brown pubes. For me or her husband I couldn’t say. Once I got my face between her legs, she relaxed and let me do what I wanted. 

Though I enjoy sex with women—and men...and almost anything else—seducing them just to seduce them isn’t something I do for fun. I had a reason and a plan for Joy’s seduction. Making her feel good about me and herself and enjoying the sex was part of the plan.

She had a nice cunt with inner lips that pouted out ever so slightly. Her clit wanted to hide away, but after a few licks and then some sucking it came out to play.

It wasn’t surprising to me at all how easy it was to make her cum. That’s one of the many benefits of my potion plus the fact that Joy had told me it had been months since she and her husband had conjugal relations.

That was the phrase she used. Conjugal relations. I didn’t have conjugal relations with Joy. I fucked her. It was delightful music to my ears to hear her scream when she came. She had been noisy with her lovely sounds of lust as I worked her up to her little crisis, but when she came, she revealed she was a screamer. 

It was a good thing we were in the middle of an empty house trapped in suburbia at midday. No one was around to hear her passionate cries.

For a moment her mind disappeared to another dimension. That’s how good the sex was for her. That’s how good it’s supposed to be. She looked down at me in astonishment while being proud of herself. It was impossible for me to determine where her pride came from. The orgasm? Cheating on her husband? Sex with a woman for the first time? All of the above?

I hoped it was all of the above. Debauchery of the highest order is my specialty.

Keeping a pair of fingers in her cunt I moved back up her body and kissed her, letting Joy taste her amrita from my lips. She didn’t hesitate. She knew who she was now. She had given herself over completely to me. Now the trick was to keep control of her and manipulate her husband.

“Thank you,” she told me after breaking the kiss.

“For what?” I asked innocently.

“For...for making me cum,” she said and her face flushed bright red with embarrassment.

“Surely you can do that for yourself,” I chided her as I slowly circled her clit with my thumb. Her body shivered at my touch. “You have fingers. You have a vibrator.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have a vibrator.”

I smiled and kissed her. “I’ll have to fix that situation for you. But tell me why you’re really thanking me.”

Her mind was pliable. The love potion did that. I pushed her because it was necessary. “For making me cum,” she repeated. “And showing me who I am.” We had been working up to that admission for weeks. Taking it from her was so sweet that I could feel a little rush of wetness to my cunt. 

“It was my pleasure,” I told her honestly. “Can I ask a favor of you?” 

The question hung in the air. We both knew what I was going to ask but I drew out the moment making her suffer because suffering is sweet and it shapes us into the people we must become.

“Sure,” she said trying to make it seem like I was asking to borrow a cup of sugar and not upending her life and making her betray her previous loyalties, husband and church among them.

“Can you make me cum?” I asked circling her clit even faster. Her cunt flushed hot on my fingers and I could feel her clamp down on the pair of fingers inside her. Joy wasn’t able to answer while I manipulated her. She just breathed heavily until she screamed out a little orgasm.

“I...I...I can’t,” she breathed out.

“I’m sure you can,” I assured her with a kiss. “You’ve cum twice. Surely you’re not the sort of hypocrite that you’ve told me about. Those people in your church who profess things one way on Sunday and the opposite the rest of the week?”

I was pushing and I didn’t care. I knew that there was a real risk of Joy falling in love with me, an affection I would never return. She was my pawn and I had made my peace with that. 

Her words claimed she couldn’t but her actions said otherwise. She kissed me back. One hand went to my back to loosen my bra. She expertly took it off me; that made me jealous but I didn’t stop her. Her other hand went down between my legs and I happily opened my legs for her.

She massaged my cunt through my black lacy panties. I helped things along by wiggling out of them. Her hand went right back to where it belonged.

She felt my heat and wetness. Between her and Nicholas just hours earlier, my cunt was ready for action. Penetrating me with her finger was easy. She slipped in a second and instinctively knew exactly what I needed. 

Joy was certainly married to the wrong man. She shouldn’t have been married to a man at all.

I moaned and sighed and moved my body in all the appropriate ways. It was easy to encourage her to use her mouth on my tits, sucking and biting at my nipples. It was a big risk to get her face down to my cunt, but eventually she got there.