Power Mage 3

by Hondo Jinx

  He read the inscription aloud, and the wasteland melted away.

  26

  Brawley awakened, feeling refreshed after an hour of blissfully dreamless sleep. Thanks to recent boosts, he thrummed with power he’d never felt before.

  Which had apparently put him in the mood because he was pitching one hell of a tent beneath the sheets.

  Nina, Sage, and Remi lounged at the front of the RV, talking and laughing softly, not enough clothes between them to keep a single woman modest.

  His tent pole throbbed at the sight.

  Not yet, he thought. First, a shower.

  After all, he was covered in blood again. Which was getting to be a regular occurrence.

  Weird habit, he thought. Oh well. We all have our vices.

  He wouldn’t rehash the carnage now. He was a hard driver by nature and upbringing, and he had a heap of work ahead. But if you’re in the habit of keeping your nose to the grindstone, you’d better force yourself to take a break once in a while, or you’d run out of nose sooner or later.

  Relax a little, he told himself. Enjoy the moment.

  Dawn was breaking to the east. They were parked alongside a secluded road just over the border in the great state of Texas. He smiled at that. The ranch was still many miles away, but he was in the Lone Star State again, and that meant he was home.

  “You’re awake!” Nina said.

  “I am,” he said, throwing off the covers. He stood and stretched.

  The girls stopped a few feet away, staring at his jockey shorts.

  “Fully awake,” Remi said, her dark eyes gleaming lustfully.

  “You can say that again,” Brawley said. “Where are the other girls?”

  “Frankie took the Harley into town to get coffee,” Nina said.

  “We’d better lock the door,” Remi said. “When I told Frankie what we were going to do to you, she started drooling.”

  “Oh yeah?” Brawley said. He pictured the Gearhead’s lovely mouth, and his erection began throbbing.

  “Frankie might seem like a workaholic dweeb,” Remi said, “but she’s a slut at heart.”

  Brawley laughed. “Is that right?”

  “Remi speaks the truth,” Nina said. “Girlfriend is depraved. A natural-born nympho. You don’t believe me, ask Joe.”

  Brawley was surprised to feel a jolt of territorial jealousy. Which was bullshit, of course, since he had no claim over the gorgeous Gearhead save her professional commitment. “Who’s Joe?”

  The girls laughed like he’d said something funny. They led him to the back of the RV, pulled back the sheet covering Frankie’s modest heap of belongings, and pointed to something tucked behind the tools. It looked like a plastic saddle atop a short, metal box. Sunken into the center of the seat was a threaded hole.

  “The hell is that?” he’d asked.

  “Frankie’s mechanical masterpiece,” Nina had said.

  “AKA Joe,” Remi said.

  And the girls had burst into laughter.

  “It is a masturbation machine, husband,” Sage explained.

  “Designed and tweaked by a horny Gearhead,” Nina added, grinning like a madwoman.

  “A super Sybian,” Remi said.

  “Oh,” Brawley said, adjusting his mental picture of his curvy new traveling companion. Well, that was her business. He laid the sheet back over Joe. “And where’s Callie?”

  “She’s on the hunt,” Nina had said, her eyes glowing playfully.

  For some reason, that made the girls laugh, too.

  “And so are we,” Remi said, grabbing him by the waistband of his jockey shorts.

  “Sounds good,” Brawley said, “but let me get a shower first.”

  The girls laughed again, glancing back and forth with shining eyes, grooving on some inside joke.

  “You three are having fun with me.”

  “Not yet, but we will,” Nina said. “Take your shower.”

  Brawley shrugged and pulled his jockeys down, half-hard despite trying not to picture Frankie on her masterpiece.

  The shower felt great and not just because he needed one. Frankie had improved the water pressure and the heat. It was going to be nice having her around.

  But not at the moment, he thought, lathering up. Because his half-hardness was a thing of the past. He was standing tall and proud again. His body clearly had designs on the three lovely ladies waiting for him outside.

  As he scrubbed away the gore, his mind drifted back to his and Remi’s return from Red Haven.

  As soon as he finished reciting the inscription, the wasteland had disappeared, and they had materialized on the highway.

  Luckily, they hadn’t reappeared into the path of a speeding eighteen-wheeler. In the future, they would have to choose portal locations more cautiously.

  Just ahead, the RV had pulled off the highway to wait for them. Sage had sensed their disappearance and guessed that waiting on the shoulder was the best course of action. Which, given Sage’s abilities, wasn’t surprising.

  What was surprising was the girls had only been waiting for a few minutes.

  Apparently, time passed differently in Red Haven. Brawley wasn’t sure how long he and Remi had been in that strange dimension, but it had certainly been longer than three or four minutes.

  That was important, he knew. A thing to consider. But not now. Because now he was clean, his women were horny, and the mysteries of this and all other worlds could wait.

  A man had to have his priorities, after all.

  He shut off the water and said, “Get ready, girls.”

  Knowing them, they were probably tangled up on the bed, getting warmed up for him. So be it. They had better warm up because they were in for a workout.

  But when he went to open the curtain, someone held it shut.

  The girls giggled from the other side.

  “You’re not very observant, handsome.”

  “Huh?”

  “Look down.”

  A section of the curtain lifted away, and only then did he notice the flap of plastic sheeting that had been sewn over a grapefruit-sized hole in the curtain.

  A hand emerged through the hole. Its slender fingers wrapped around his erection and tugged lightly, guiding him forward. A second later, he was standing there dripping, hands locked onto the bar overhead, naked chest pressed against the wet curtain with his manhood jutting out the hole.

  The slender fingers worked, tugging and fidgeting while the girls laughed. They finally got his balls through the curtain, too. The edges of the hole gripped him tightly just below the sack, increasing his rigidity to somewhere in the neighborhood of diamond hardness.

  “We’re going to play a game,” Nina announced. “It’s called Who Is Sucking You Now?”

  She explained the simple rules. The girls would take turns working on him. He had to guess who was sucking. He couldn’t cheat with Seeker juice.

  “Ready, babe?” Nina asked.

  “You three are crazier than snow in July,” he said.

  “And you love it,” Nina said. “Here we go, babe. Who’s sucking you now?”

  A second later, an unseen woman took his swollen head into her hot, wet mouth. Her hand gripped him firmly by the base of his shaft.

  Brawley wondered which of his wives was servicing him. At this point, it could be any of them.

  As per the rules, he consciously avoided letting his Seeker intuition provide the answer.

  The mystery woman’s hand rose and started pumping his length. At the same time, her mouth plunged forward, gobbling another inch or two. His swollen head was too big for her to deepthroat.

  Not Remi, then. The horny Carnal could unhinge her jaw like a boa constrictor swallowing a goat.

  Nina or Sage?

  Her mouth pulled back. The lips cinched tightly just below the head. Her hand, gripping his shaft firmly, plunged all the way to his swinging balls.

  “Sage,” he said, recognizing her curious technique.

  Girlish la
ughter exploded beyond the curtain, and Sage’s hand and mouth released him.

  “Very impressive, husband,” Sage’s voice said.

  “Right back at you, darlin.”

  “Beginner’s luck,” Nina said.

  Brawley waited as the girls whispered and moved around. Picturing them naked, he considered pulling himself from the hole, whipping the curtain aside, and tossing all three of them onto the bed.

  But he restrained himself. They were having fun. And hey, he could wait. There are worse things in the world than getting blown by a trio of beautiful women.

  “Who’s sucking you now?”

  The next girl didn’t use her hands. Her mouth enveloped his head, and her tongue wiggled back and forth, using what little room it had to massage the sensitive underside of his shaft just beneath the head.

  It was the sort of attention to sensitive detail he associated with Nina, and he was just about to say so when the woman shoved her mouth forward, burying every inch of his hardness deep in her throat, which contracted around him, undulating around his length from root to tip in a dizzying milking rhythm.

  “Remi,” he groaned, and could’ve kicked himself when her talented mouth popped free. He should’ve pretended not to know.

  “What gave me away, handsome?” Remi said, and by her voice he could picture the fiendish playfulness no doubt lighting her beautiful features. “Oh yeah, I know… my awesomeness.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Nina said. “Ready for another mouth hug, babe?”

  “Do not assume by process of elimination that the next participant will be Nina,” Sage advised. “Perhaps it will be she, and perhaps it will not.”

  “Gotcha,” Brawley said. At this point, he just wanted to get the teasing over with and get down to business.

  For a few seconds, nothing happened. The girls whispered and giggled and fidgeted.

  He was just about ready to tell them to quit fucking around, game’s over, meet y’all at the bed, when a pair of lips pressed gently against his engorged tip. Compared to Remi swallowing him whole, the action was curiously chaste, almost timid.

  The lips lingered. The kisser’s breath was hot against his hardness. The soft lips parted, and a tongue tickled across the crest of his bulbous head as if taking a tentative taste of the leaking precum.

  Someone was playing coy.

  Nina, probably, but any of them could be playing the role.

  Whoever it was continued her Oscar-worthy performance, touching his shaft with trembling fingertips that quickly leapt away as if they had brushed a hot stovetop. The shaking fingers returned, tracing lines along his shaft. Another trembling hand joined in.

  The hands were small.

  Sage?

  They hefted his manhood. The mystery girl gave a soft moan. Using both hands, she tried to encircle his girth with her thumbs and forefingers. She failed.

  She gave another moan and started licking his shaft. At first, her tongue caressed him as tentatively as had her fingers.

  The lapping grew firmer, like a girl licking an ice cream cone. Then she forgot the timid act and went crazy, moaning and smacking her lips as her tongue slid back and forth and up and down and her hands enveloped his sack, one on each nut, squeezing and tugging.

  It wasn’t Remi. Couldn’t be. Her hands weren’t that small. Besides, she liked teasing but could never hold out this long without swallowing him whole.

  It didn’t seem like Sage, either. The technique was too frenzied.

  That meant…

  “Who’s sucking you now, babe?” Nina’s voice asked, full of laughter.

  “Yeah, handsome, who’s slobbing your knob?” Remi asked.

  “Have you uncovered the truth, husband?” Sage asked.

  “Wait a second,” Brawley said. All three voices had spoken, and that was one too many.

  Because a mouth was still busy, skipping up and down his hardness, peppering it with soft kisses.

  The girls burst into laughter.

  With some difficulty, he managed to pull himself free of the hole. He whipped the curtain aside.

  His three wives stood side by side, naked and delighted.

  A fourth woman, also naked, covered her tiny breasts with a skinny arm, plunged a hand modestly between her legs, and blushed red as a tomato.

  Kneeling before him, Callie smiled nervously. Her huge amber eyes stared up at his face, studying his reaction as she awaited his decision.

  27

  “I want to be with you,” Callie said, her voice a trembling whisper. “Forever.”

  Brawley stared down at her for a second. Part of him was pissed at being tricked. He was a man who made his own choices, and his wives had set him up.

  But part of him, including the primordial beast raging within his body, was incredibly turned on by the slender cat girl’s persistent submission. She was frightened, he knew, and deeply ashamed. She trembled with anticipation—no, with hope. Yes, the girls had put Callie up to this, but her desire for him had driven her to this madness.

  “Do it, handsome,” Remi said.

  “Callie genuinely desires to bond with you,” Sage said.

  “Let her have it, babe,” Nina said. “Crack that strand.”

  “Enough,” Brawley said, his voice deep and hard with command.

  The women fell silent.

  “I make my own decisions.”

  Reaching down, he hooked a finger under Callie’s trembling chin and coaxed her to her feet. She rose awkwardly, doing her best to keep her breasts and crotch covered; an absurd compulsion, given what she’d just been doing to him.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  Callie lifted her eyes to his and looked away again.

  “Don’t look away,” he said.

  She looked at him again and hesitated.

  “Don’t look away,” he repeated.

  Callie’s pupils dilated, nearly eclipsing the amber pools in which they floated. But she did not look away.

  “You sure you want this, darlin?” he asked.

  Her little chin bobbed up and down in his big hand.

  “Drop your arm,” he said.

  She brightened again, hesitated briefly, and let her arm fall from her chest.

  Her breasts were small. Tiny, pink nipples poked from areolae that were almost invisible in their faintness.

  He lowered a hand to her breast.

  Callie shuddered.

  The small mound was firm and just large enough for him to detect its curve. He gathered the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

  Callie trembled, breathing rapidly. To her credit, she still had not looked away.

  He brushed his thumb across the tip of her hard nipple.

  “Please,” Callie whimpered.

  “Bonding is forever,” he said, voicing the truth that had become a mantra within his mind.

  She nodded, keeping her eyes locked on his. “I know.”

  Looking down, he said, “Move your hand.”

  Callie bit her lip, hesitating briefly. Then she pulled her hand slowly from between her legs.

  Strands of glistening excitement clung to her flesh, stretching from her trembling fingertips to her sex, a pink and puffy slit within a trim wedge of pubic hair, calico in color.

  Reaching behind her head, he plunged his fingers into her soft multicolored hair and palmed her tiny skull in his big, calloused hand. Then he lowered his mouth to hers.

  She inhaled sharply, quivering with excitement, and for the first time, she was kissing.

  Her kiss was clumsy yet spirited, tentatively choppy one second, fiercely aggressive the next. After a few seconds, she melted into him, pressing her mouth firmly against his, sucking his tongue into her mouth, moaning as her head bobbed.

  Brawley’s hands explored her body, smoothing over the curves, bumping over the rumble strips of her prominent ribs, and pausing here and there to squeeze her firm flesh.

  Callie surprised him then, seizing his manhood in both hand
s and pumping it aggressively. She broke the kiss and leaned back, eyes wild, panting for breath.

  “Stop teasing me,” Callie said. Gripping his erection, she started marching toward the bed, tugging him after her like a dog on a leash.

  But Brawley was nobody’s dog. He grabbed Callie around her skinny waist, scooped her up, and threw her over his shoulder.

  Callie yelped with surprise, wriggling deliciously as he carried her to the bed and laid her on her back.

  The other women cheered and gathered around, touching Brawley.

  Callie was covering herself again. She clamped one arm to her breasts and squeezed her legs together.

  Brawley stared into her eyes for a second.

  Callie, realizing what her body was doing, moved her arm and opened her legs.

  Staring into his eyes, she smiled. “Please.”

  “You’re going to have to open your legs wider than that, girlfriend,” Nina said, taking one knee.

  “Nina is correct,” Sage said from the other side of the bed, latching onto Callie’s other knee.

  Callie smiled, turning to nod at each woman.

  Nina and Sage spread her wide. Callie’s exposed and swollen sex sparkled with her juices.

  Seizing Callie by the hips, Brawley pulled her to the edge of the bed. Then he pushed between her legs, squatted down, and let his manhood drop onto trembling flesh with a crisp smack.

  Callie stared down, eyes huge.

  His erection stretched from her crotch all the way to her solar plexus.

  “Last chance, darlin,” Brawley said, giving her a second. “You sure?”

  Callie smiled, nervous and brave and excited. “Positive.”

  Brawley took his time, pressing gently against her slippery folds while his wives stroked Callie’s hair and held her hands and offered encouraging whispers.

  Callie rocked beneath him, pressing her sex against his, but he was too big.

  The cat girl whimpered with frustration. “Quit treating me like a little girl,” she said at last. “I’m a woman, and I want this. Put it in.”

  Remi laughed and slapped Brawley hard on the ass. “Yeah, stop fucking around, handsome. In for a penny, in for a pound.”