How Wicked-er Can She Go?

by J. Morgan

  "I thought you were joking about that.” He pulled the sheet over his lap, doing little to hide the mini Eiffel Tower he'd built just for me. It wasn't too mini, either.

  "We can't exactly have the sex with you half-dressed.” We could, but it wouldn't be fun for me.

  "Uh, yeah, right. Sex.” Shouldn't he be more enthused about the project? I was. Unless men had suddenly changed overnight, sex counted as one of the most important things on their minds. Not sure what the others were but they probably involved sports.

  "Look, do you think I'm looking forward to this? I mean, it isn't like I'm going to enjoy this.” Like hell I wasn't. “This is totally to get you ready for the real thing. How do you think that makes me feel? Knowing you're going to use me for your own amusement, and then leave me for the arms of another woman?” Man I could work a room. If I wasn't trying to be a full-time wicked witch, I could so see myself on The Young and the Restless.

  "I didn't think of it like that. Maybe I should just get dressed before I demean you more than I already have.” Chivalry wasn't dead. Damn its black heart!

  "No, I shall endeavor to put aside my pride.” I threw my hand across my brow. Melodrama, thy name be Nikki.

  "I really can't ask you to do that."

  I pushed him back on the bed, before he could get away. Believe me. He tried. In the end, I had to straddle him to keep him from making a mad dash for the door. The things I do for the greater wickedness.

  Before he could scramble away, I reached down and ripped the offending undies off, or at least, I tried to rip them off. The cloth tore into two nice pieces, wedged under his clinched bootie. I wouldn't let a little clinch come between me and my goal. Those drawers had to go. Just looking at them made my teeth itch.

  "Gregory, may I call you Gregory?” I sure the hell wasn't calling him Greggie poo.

  "Seeing as how you're sitting on my naughty bits, I guess its okay.” He squirmed under me, nearly making me forget the rest of what I had on my mind. “But shouldn't I know your name?"

  Oh right! I knew I'd forgotten something. People rarely want to know the name of the horrible witch they're forced to deal with. I had kind of lost the habit of introducing myself over the years. Seeing as how I was five seconds away from totally ruining this guy for other women, knowing my name might be nice. That way he'd have something to scream out while having sex with those lesser sluts. And yes, I am that damn good!

  "It goes against company policy, but my name is Nikki."

  "Like the old Prince Song?"

  I could have feigned ignorance, but what would be the point? It wasn't like he wouldn't find out the truth in a few minutes anyway. “Let's just say I'm an inspiration to several people."

  Hey, I could be. I'm sure I've inspired someone along the way. Before this got out of hand, I needed to set this guy's mind at ease. I didn't want him having an anxiety attack or anything. I needed his blood flowing smoothly to all the important areas without bringing on a coronary in the process.

  "Isn't there another way...?"

  I put my finger over his lips. “Gregory, trust me. You need this. You are way too uptight. Once I have a handle on what you can offer to Ms. Right, we are on the road to bringing the two of you together."

  "When you put it like that, I guess you're right.” He didn't look convinced but he hadn't lost any of his salute to the nation of Nikki. I took that as his consent to whatever came next. Like you wouldn't have.

  I had to admit. This was a first. Guys never turned down a ride on the nookie train. From the way he acted, you'd think he had never done the deed before. Come on, he was almost thirty. Surely someone had gotten into his pants by now.

  Wait a minute! Computer nerd. Rich. Spent all his time in front of a fourteen-inch monitor. Oh, my word! Greggie-poo was a virgin. Wicked was one thing, but did I have the right to deflower a virgin? Hell, someone needed to do it. I ask you: why not me?

  "But I don't think this is for me.” The slippery eel slowly began to ooze out from under me.

  Huh? What did I miss?

  One minute I had him in the palm of my hand, and the next he's doing the Boot Scoot Boogie out from under me. Well, I couldn't have that happen. My ego wouldn't take a blow that crippling. Good thing I'm a witch, or he might actually have gotten away. That wouldn't have done either one of us any good. I was more worried about me, but it was past time he became a man. Yes, I can convince myself deep down that I'd been only looking out for the guy.

  I hoped prosperity would view what came next in a favorable light or at least didn't publish the evidence all over the internet.

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  Chapter 5

  The first thing I had on the agenda, I needed to stop his forward progress, or backward progress, however you wanted to look at it. I knew just the spell for it, too. Old standbys are the best, by the way, and this one had definitely been an old one by anyone's standards. I'd learned it from a witch who'd worked for the Marquis de Sade back in the day.

  With a twist of my wrist, the sheets came to life, pulling him back to the bed. Cords of silk shot from the headboard, circled his wrists, and bound him against the bedposts all nice and snug. Don't ask what they're doing there, ‘cause I ain't telling. The main thing was he wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon. Am I good, or what?

  "Look lady, I said I wasn't going through with it.” Gregory strained against the silk rope, but he might as well give it up. Auntie Beulah—yes I'm baring another shameful family secret—taught me too well for a mortal to slip free of one of my restraining spells.

  I sat on the bed beside him. “Greg, this is for your own good. True love doesn't fall out of trees. Without a little training up, you're doomed to loneliness and despair. I promise you, this won't hurt. In fact, I think you'll quite enjoy yourself once we get started.” I knew I would.

  I could have stayed there and fought with him for the rest of the night. I wasn't going to, but I could have. A situation like this called for a smidgen of positive reinforcement. Men needed a firm hand, and my left hand was pretty firm.

  Not waiting for him to stop whining, I snaked my hand up his inner thigh, which clamped his mouth shut, I'm happy to report. My fingertips grazed the soft flesh of his sack. A moan reached me from the head of the bed. I looked up to see a blissful smile on his face. Man, he was one deprived little monkey.

  At this point I could have put him in an ecstasy-induced coma, but I decided to take it easy on the poor guy. I slid my hands back, gently kneading the tense muscles of his thighs. His legs twitched, but he wasn't struggling to get away. I considered it a move in the right direction. Really, I couldn't think of a single man in his situation who would even consider yelling, Stop you foul temptress! There may be one out there, but, as you can probably tell, I wasn't about to go looking for him.

  Through this whole thing, I'd never once thought to let my eyes wander to what all this fuss was about. It had been a long time since I'd allowed a man into my boudoir. Okay, you got me. It had been a really long time since I'd even had a man knock at the front door, let alone bring his ass into my bedroom. So, basically, at this point, I wasn't about to be all that picky.

  But, damn! I peeked. Needless to say, I'd hit the jackpot with this one. Girls, if you see a computer geek looking for love, I suggest you snag him quick. If Gregory here was any indication, all that radiation from the ‘puters must be doing their bodies good.

  I'd been so caught up in the view I failed to notice that he was holding his last breath past the point of healthy. He had turned positively blue. I then figured out that my hand had developed a mind of its own and was doing the naughtiest of things to him, in the naughtiest of places.

  Best to put a stop to it, before I had to call 911. Sexed-up dead guy in my bed might give me a bad reputation with the rest of the neighborhood. Plus, I was certain Melina might not take killing the poor bastard as a satisfactory completion to my assignment. You couldn't draw out the hefty fee we charged for
this type of customer service that way.

  "Gregory, I know this is all new to you, but it's important you breathe."

  He let out a gasp before sputtering incoherently as oxygen rushed back into his lungs.

  Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. If foreplay put him in this kind of shape, no telling what the actual act would do to him. I snatched my hand back from his Captain Happy just in case.

  "Nnn ... no, don't stop.” His eyes burned a hole through me, begging for more.

  "Are you sure?” I wasn't one to fight a situation going the way I wanted, but burying bodies in the middle of the night was just plain icky and more work than I liked to do on a weeknight.

  "Yyy ... yes,” he stuttered. Good enough for me.

  "Okay, but keep up the breathing. I don't know CPR.” What do I look like to you? Do you see the name Dr. Meredith Grey anywhere on my chest? If there are any men out there reading this, stop looking at my chest. Now for my shameless Star Trek plug: Dammit Jim, I'm a witch, not a doctor!

  I had him ready, willing and able. So what do I do now? Anything too ambitious would kill him. If I went too sedately, it might kill me, or, at the very least, leave me unsatisfied. Neither one seemed like an option I would be willing let happen, especially the last one.

  I had to ask myself, could I, in all good conscience, pass up playing with a guy tied to my bed? Sure, some may say; give him a break, it's his first time. Who said that? Shut the hell up! A chance like this comes along maybe once in a lifetime. One of yours, not mine.

  The best course of attack would be something simple yet effective. You know, freaky enough to get the job done, but nothing that would blow his mind. Ideally, I'd need the backseat of a car for this to be truly memorable but, seeing as how backseats make me nervous, I'm going with scenario number two; parents are away for the weekend, so let's play in the master bedroom.

  My hands returned to his thighs. They were so hot my hands tingled from the heat rising from them. His breathing wasn't normal, but at least he had air flowing into his lungs. Lamaze counted as breathing, right? Since I planned to throw everything he missed during his teenage years at him, he was going to hyperventilate through most of this.

  While my fingers danced along the curve of his straining balls, I bent down, and took his shaft into my mouth. My teeth grazed the silky tip, sending shivers running down his legs. I felt him tense under me. That wasn't going to do. Tensing was bad. It could mean the difference between a very good evening and “Oops, can we try again in thirty minutes?” My spell wasn't going to hold him for another fifteen, let alone thirty. Besides, he looked like a sleeper, not a can-we-do-that-again type of guy.

  Damn computers were destroying the libidos of a whole generation of men. I wasn't even talking about internet porn, either. I tell you, the things were more of a pain in the ass than they were worth.

  Well shit! I guess I better stop. Ever notice when you get a guy where you want him, he goes all wilting violet on you? I untangled my tonsils in a fit of disgust. I never got to have any fun.

  "Will you do that again?” He gasped, in between haggard breaths.

  Maybe I'd been wrong about the can-we-do-that-again part. Nope, better not take the chance. Besides, I think I was about to the end of lesson one. Time for a pop quiz.

  I shifted forward ever so slightly. His touch burned against the bare flesh of my thigh. His tip prodded the fabric of my panties, sending a wave of blissful euphoria through me. My senses went crazy as the thickness of him brushed the tender folds of my sex through the sheer fabric. I went weak at the knees from the sensation.

  I'm normally a woman—sorry, witch—who prides herself on always being in full command of her emotions. Maybe the fact I've been out of the dating circle for a while clouded my judgment, or it could be I suffered from a debilitating hormone rush at having a guy in my complete power, but whatever the reason, I was rapidly losing my grip on my self control. In short I had to have him. Now!

  I looked up to see his eyes drinking me in with a hunger that burned the air between us. The sight of his want sent me straight into hardcore lust. Placing the fingers of my left hand over his quivering mouth to stop him from shouting my name over and over again before my neighbors called the cops, I used the other to slip my panties down my leg. The sudden move sent my knee skidding toward the edge of the bed. Scrambling to keep my ass from falling off the bed, I tried to keep up the wanton vixen act. Helluva lot harder than it sounded! With one leg still hanging precariously over the bed, I realistically expected to go sailing over the side, headfirst into the floor.

  By some minor miracle, I managed to get the leg back down, and the panties tossed into the far corner without clipping him in the head or doing a triple-gainer off his pecker. All in all, I was scoring myself a perfect ten for seduction and technique. I sincerely hoped the bicycle thing was true, because it had been that long since this little witchy had been on either a man or a ten-speed. Closest thing I'd been to either one was a shaky buggy at the grocery store. Don't knock the sensation of a jiggly cart full of crap on hard asphalt. Beats the hell out of the washer on the rinse cycle!

  Where was I again? Damn, it has been a long time if I waxed poetic about a defective shopping cart when I had a man at my sexual mercy.

  Back on track, I turned my attention back to Gregory. He seemed not to have noticed my acrobatic performance. Good for me. It wasn't my best moment, in spite of its success. From the look on his face, he wouldn't last much longer.

  I slipped my hand across his chest, my fingers pinching the ripeness of his nipples. He jerked under me. The length of him caressed my swollen clit, sending another shiver down my spine. Then, all too quickly, I felt him enter me. I captured him with an eagerness that surprised me. Well, not really, but I didn't want to seem like a total slut.

  My hips glided over the thickness of him, the corded muscles of his thighs rocking in time to each stroke. My breath caught in my throat, as he caught the rhythm of my tempo. For a newbie, he was a fast learner. I was almost sorry his hands were tied to the bedposts. They looked quite nimble as they clutched at the empty air. Must be all that time they spent on the keyboard. Note to self: rethink my opinion on computers.

  All too soon, I felt him quicken beneath me. The racing beat of his heart thundered through my core, as I felt his release rushing to fill me. My body answered in kind. The raw electricity of it slammed through my center, throwing me across his chest. My fingers dug trenches through his chest hair, as the last of my release racked through me until each delicious sensation embedded itself into my brain for later, wistful thinking. Shoot me; I get poetic in the heat of the afterglow.

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  Chapter 6

  Said afterglow had barely begun when he burst my ecstasy bubble.

  "That was fantastic, so do you think we can get down to finding my true love?"

  What the fuck? After that he should be comatose or at the very least he should still be mumbling unintelligently under his breath about the earth moving, and the solar system spinning out of control. I'm not sure about the rest of you, but my ego needs shit like that at times like this.

  I knew sleeping with the nerd wasn't supposed to be about love or anything. I just wanted a little sex. How did I know it'd turn out to be great sex? I thought it'd been great sex—change your life sex. His oblivious disregard for that fact made me wonder if I'd been out of the game for too long. No, my game had been dead on. Perhaps radiation from his computer had damaged his pleasure receptors. It was the only explanation that made any sort of sense and didn't involve a lacking on my part.

  What the hell was I worrying about it for? This was all about getting some, and worming my way back in Melina's good graces, so I didn't have to go live with Mom. If he couldn't appreciate my sexual prowess, it wasn't like his life wouldn't be going to hell because of me anyway. In the end, I looked at it as a win-win situation for me.

  Except that I wanted him to wors
hip me. Dammit! I deserved worship. Okay, maybe I needed to chill before I needed the company witch doctor with the itty bitty leather couch to make a visit.

  What was he saying now? I'd tuned him out the second he regained consciousness. Oh, something about his true love. Like I gave a crap. I had a possible sexual deficiency to think about. When you get to be my age—not that I'm old—there are new tricks you haven't had the chance to learn. I didn't want to find myself considered old school. The shame would scar me for life.

  Oh, what was he going on about? Did this guy have a one track mind or what? Oh well. I should probably pay attention before he said something I might actually need to hear.

  "So, if this works, I was hoping for a June wedding. I know it's clichéd, but I'm a traditional kind of guy,” he rambled on, oblivious to the fact that I had been so not listening.

  Sighing, I counted to three and acted like I gave a damn. “One thing at a time slugger. We just started your training. I'm not sure if you're ready for the real thing."

  "I don't want to sound ungrateful for the sex or anything.” Here comes the ‘but'. “But I would really like to get this over with. My mom is kind of on my back about the subject."

  Well, I could relate to that, but it didn't change the fact that my job was to make sure he didn't find true love. My sex life aside, I'd better get back to work.

  "I hate sending a man out half prepared, but since you're so keyed up to get out there and break hearts, who am I to stand in your way?"

  "So, you'll give me a spell to find her?” His desperation nearly made me gag.

  "Not so fast. Just because I'm a witch doesn't mean we do spells for this sort of thing. What you need is a potion."

  His face scrunched up. “A potion?"

  "Think of it scientifically. What I'm offering you is a pheromone serum that specifically targets your endorphin system, and searches out the perfect woman who will be attracted to the specific pheromones your body produces.” Hey, even I believed me, when I went all Discovery Science on him.