The Necromancer's Wife: A Dark Romance

by Cara Vance

  Fortunately, by subtly shaping Harold’s dating prospects, I was able to influence that. The women Harold screwed were now coming from slightly farther away, thus increasing their chances of using a car. Sure enough, quick peeks out the window began to confirm this. More often than not, I would see a car parked in the driveway or out on the street.

  A little online research provided the rest. Once I had what I needed, it was time to get a little bolder with my nighttime jaunts.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  My first foray out was a bit scary. I was inhabiting the body of a slender blonde with shoulder length hair. She was about my age (or the age I would have been), and in good shape. Wearing her body felt quite natural. I was tempted to see if I could arrange her to come back again, but decided against pushing my luck.

  After an intense fuck session with Harold - I had ridden him mercilessly in reverse cowgirl position - he had fallen asleep fairly quickly. This body was able to cum quite nicely. I enjoyed the way she orgasmed, thus I was determined to be selfish. I had continued to grind against him, refusing to stop even as he came, so intent was I on another climax. That had done him in. He was out within minutes.

  Sadly, the asshole had pulled out before I was finished, thus I went into the bathroom to take care of myself...watching my body in the mirror as I touched and explored. Doing so, it didn’t take long at all. Soon a minor explosion of pleasure was racing out from my midsection, taking me entirely. The color drained from the world around me for a moment and I had to grab the vanity top to keep from falling to my knees. I liked this body, quite a bit.

  Having done that, I quickly washed up and went to look for her clothes. I have to say, after so long, it was odd wearing panties again. It almost felt unnatural to cover myself up. Still, I couldn’t exactly get what I needed to get done in the nude. Well, okay, maybe I could. Depending on who was working at my destination, I might have even gotten a nice little discount in the process. Still, I didn’t know who this woman was. It wasn’t right to play exhibitionist with her body, knowing that any consequences would be hers to deal with.

  Whoever she was, she was a smart dresser. The blouse and skirt combo, though a bit wrinkled now, were attractive and high quality. Sensible pumps rounded out her wardrobe choice for the evening. Had I not been in a rush, I might have been tempted to take her out for a night of dancing. From the look of her, I doubted she’d have a lack of dance partners of any age. I giggled at that thought. There was an idea. I could have easily acted like a cougar in this body and gone home with a nice hard-bodied twenty-something year old. Oh well, maybe next time.

  I found her purse and though it didn’t feel right going through her things (I had no such qualms with regard to Harold’s possessions), I wanted to make sure I was set. All was good. I found her car keys, wallet, driver’s license (hmm, Francine Alanno, a pretty name), a small make-up kit, and a stun gun. Fashionable and smart, I might add. I held the weapon aloft and briefly glanced back in the direction of the bedroom. Tempting, Harold, so tempting.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I made a quick stop at Harold’s office before leaving. He kept his wallet in one of the drawers. Being that this predicament was entirely of his making, I found it only fair that he should pay for things. I grabbed a couple of twenties from the stack of bills I found. I had little doubt he kept it handy for those times he had to pay for his companionship. Either way, I didn’t particularly care if he missed them or not.

  I made one more detour, in the living room, grabbed what I was looking for, and then let myself out.

  I stopped for a moment on our front porch. It was crisp, cool, and clear. I realized that I hadn’t been outside since returning, either. I had forgotten how fresh air smelled. It was a bit of a shock. I had gotten used to the odors of the house as well as the scent of Harold’s body commingled with whoever I was possessing that week. I’d need to do this more often, which, come to think of it, was exactly the plan.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I had no idea what a lot of the gadgets in Francine’s car did, albeit I wasn’t sure if it was a case of new technology or just driving a nicer vehicle than I was used to. In life, I had preferred simple. Though we could have afforded better, I was happy with my old Toyota. Still, considering the BMW that I was now driving, I had to admit I could get used to this.

  Of course, first I had to get used to driving again. It was a good thing it was late, because otherwise I’m doubtful I would have made it to my first destination without at least one fender bender. I needed to be more careful. The last thing I wanted was to be pulled over by any cops. That thought turned distinctly naughty as I pulled into the parking lot of the Office-Mart. There was always the possibility of getting out of a ticket with a quick backseat blowjob. I shook my head, not believing I would have seriously considered that. My months at Harold’s mercy were turning me into quite the little slut.

  No time for that now, though. This store was on the short list of places I had researched. I couldn’t have items shipped to my own house. Harold would probably notice that. Likewise, post offices didn’t stay open late, no matter what the day. Fortunately for me, I was apparently not the only one with the need to make late night pickups - although I doubted too many others were in my exact situation. This place was perfect. It was close by, stayed open late, and provided mailbox services. Now I just had to hope they accepted cash and were coy about identities.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Score one for me! The night clerk hadn’t demanded any identification, probably not hurt by the fact that I was heavily flirting with him. I filled out the form, paid him for the month, and he gave me an oversized lockbox in the back. I was in luck, in that they used a programmed keypad combination for entry. No messy keys for me to have to hide. That was a plus. I just had to remember my code, an easy one: I picked the date of my wedding. I then slyly asked if it was okay if I occasionally sent one of my sisters to pick up a package for me, knowing I’d be unlikely to see this body again. He told me no problem as long as they knew my key-code. I was in business.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I was also early. I had listed out four such potential shops in the area, not daring to hope I’d get lucky on my first try. That still left me a few hours to kill. My original plan had entailed the possibility of running out of time before I had a chance to get back home. I had swiped an expensive bottle of cognac from Harold’s bar. My plan had been to pull over to the side upon feeling the spell wearing off, and douse myself liberally with it. Hopefully, it would fend off any confusion since Francine’s last memories probably entailed getting ready to be railed by Harold’s dick. Never discount the power of alcohol in such situations. It wouldn’t take much for either of them to put two and two together to assume Francine had decided to get shitfaced and then leave after he’d passed out. Or at least, I hoped.

  Now, though, I had time on my hands. I briefly considered driving home and getting back into bed with Harold, leaving nobody any the wiser. I quickly tossed that aside, though. I was still enjoying the rush of being out. I felt like a dog that had been penned in a cage and was finally allowed to run free. Still, there wasn’t really enough time for me to have a night out.

  I opened Francine’s wallet, figuring at the very least I could drive her home. I could fall back on my original plan there. It would also give me that little bit of extra time to just enjoy the night air. I found her address, then noticed some pictures. They were of her and a man. He looked to be about her age, with sandy hair and a medium build...maybe a little overweight. They definitely looked pretty chummy in the photos.

  Francine, have you been a bad girl? I thought and then something even more wicked entered my mind.

  What the hell? I started the car and turned in the direction where she lived. This could be fun.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Francine lived about forty minutes away...well, okay, it was more like thirty but I got lost once. Some of the landmarks in the area had changed and I wound up making a fe
w wrong turns.

  Finally, I pulled into her driveway. Before getting out, I opened up the cognac and took a liberal pull from the bottle. I then splashed a little onto my blouse and the seat of the car, making sure to get enough so the odor was obvious.

  Smelling absolutely soused, I took out her keys and let myself in. I quickly located the light switch and flicked it on. I might’ve been acting drunk, but I had no desire to actually stumble around in a strange house and maybe break my - Francine’s - legs.

  The place was nice. A bit smaller than my house, but far more sensibly decorated than what Harold had done. Definitely a woman’s touch. Still, I wasn’t here to judge her for Better Homes and Gardens. I glanced quickly at a clock on the wall. Just enough time, assuming I was right, of course.

  There was a large bedroom just off the living room. I glanced in and, sure enough, saw a form sleeping under the covers.

  Please don’t be her brother.

  Seeing that it was the same man in her photos, I gave his shoulder a quick shake. He moaned in his sleep, but did not awaken, so I did it again. In the dim light, I saw his eyes finally open. He blinked groggily before focusing on me.

  “That you, Frankie?”

  “Mmm, hmm,” I replied, not sure what to say...I was making this up as I went along.

  “What time is it?”

  “Late,” I whispered, beginning to grin.

  “How are Kate and Barb?”

  Kate and Barb? I had no idea who they were, but a picture began to form in my mind. Oh, Francine, you naughty little tramp. Did you tell him you were going out with friends?

  “Let’s not worry about them,” I replied, leaning down and planting an experimental kiss on his lips. If he was anything other than a boyfriend or husband, this would be the test.

  He was obviously surprised, but quickly reciprocated. Definitely not a brother...well probably, anyway. You could never really tell with some people.

  I pulled away and saw him lick his lips. “Have you been drinking?”

  I held up the half empty bottle of cognac. “Oh, yeah.”

  Moving quickly, not entirely believing I was doing this, I pulled the blankets off of him. He was wearing a pair of under-shorts and nothing else. I quickly reached down and began to rub his bulge.

  He gasped at that, but closed his eyes, obviously enjoying the sensation.

  “What about the kids?” he asked quietly.

  Kids? That was new. What was that phrase I had heard once or twice? Oh, yeah. Guess I found myself in the body of a MILF. That was interesting.

  I unexpectedly found myself wishing I had more time. It would be nice to play mommy for a few hours, even if they weren't my own. Alas, that wasn’t to be. I felt a brief sting of sadness at that, but decided not to let it interrupt my plans.

  “They’re asleep,” I replied, hoping it was true. If not, they were about to get quite the rude awakening. I pulled his shorts off, freeing his now stiff cock. It wasn’t as big as Harold’s, but I was sure it would do in a pinch.

  Tipping the bottle, I dribbled some of the pricey liquor onto his crotch. Leaning down, I began lapping it up with my tongue - not letting a single drop escape.

  “Oh my God,” he sighed.

  “Still worried about the kids?” I asked, lifting my head.

  I took his silence to be all the answer I needed. I was tempted to continue what I had started with my mouth. It had been a long time since I had tasted another man. Then I remembered the time.

  “Don’t move,” I commanded.

  Moving quickly, I tore free of my clothing, the cool air of the house making my nipples immediately perk up. I had just stripped free of my panties when I saw the man reach into the nightstand next to him. He pulled out a little wrapper. I was almost amazed. It had been a while since I’d seen a condom. Still, I had no interest in it. What I wanted was the feel of flesh inside of me.

  I climbed atop Francine’s man and straddled him. I took the condom wrapper from his hand and casually tossed it over my shoulder, using my other hand to guide him inside of me.

  “Wait.”

  “Shut up,” I hissed, moving my hips and feeling him slide up into me.

  I put my hands on his chest and dug my nails in as I rocked back and forth, taking pleasure in how different he felt. It had been so long. Sure, I had experienced Harold in a variety of bodies, each one offering its own nuances, but this was different. This man’s penis wasn’t nearly as impressive as my husband’s, but that was okay. What was that saying about the motion of the ocean?

  Whatever protests he may have had toward my boldness were silenced as I continued to grind myself against him. I closed my eyes and drank in the sensations, happy to see there was no guilt. How could there be? I was dead. Legally, my marriage had been over since the moment my heart stopped beating. The only hold Harold now had over me were the bonds of magic, and if I had my way, that would soon change.

  For now, though, that was all meaningless. What mattered were the hands that came up to play with Francine’s - my - nipples. What mattered was the hard penis that even now was driving me onward toward our natural conclusion.

  The man’s hips bucked sharply. I opened my eyes and looked down at him. From the grimace on his face, I could tell he was struggling to hold off his release. Poor fellow, it seemed that Francine didn’t let him play with her nearly often enough. I considered this and found my previously high opinion of her dropping. Why go out and let another man dirty her when there was a perfectly willing participant right here?

  The poor guy needed a break. “It’s okay,” I whispered soothingly to him. “I want to feel you.” I began to rock my hips faster. I wasn’t sure if I would make it before he did, but that was fine. There’s pleasure to be taken in giving it to others, and this fellow certainly seemed to need it.

  “Cum for me,” I urged, stroking his cheek lightly with my fingers. “I want to take everything you have to give...every last drop.”

  I felt him tense up. There was no stopping it now, but still he fought. I dug my nails gently into his chest again and arched my back, squeezing with my hips. I let a gasp escape my lips, “Please baby...now!”

  That did it. A wave of warmth entered me as his emptied himself again and again. From the number of times he spasmed before finally relaxing, I would have guessed it had been a good long time for him. Silly, Francine, you really should take care of your man more often.

  I lifted myself off of his manhood, feeling some of him drip from me. I hadn’t orgasmed as planned, but I felt satisfied nevertheless. Whoever this man might be, I had little doubt he truly appreciated what I had just done. That was more than enough. It was a good feeling.

  I lie down beside him and put my head on his chest. He put an arm around me, drew me close, and said, “That was like nothing we...”

  “I know,” I replied with a smile. “What can I say? I guess I’m just not myself tonight.”

  Chapter 19

  If Harold had been suspicious of Francine’s abrupt departure, he didn’t let on. It had been both risky and potentially stupid of me, but in the end, it didn’t appear to have changed his attitude. When next I arrived, he and his rock-hard cock were both waiting for me, the same as usual. As I had taken to doing, I made sure my needs were met and then proceeded to rock his world as hard as I could. I had to admit, I was starting to become exceptionally aggressive by my usual standards. Part of it was to knock Harold out as quickly as possible; however, I had to admit I enjoyed it as well. I’d always considered myself a sexual creature, but even so, the person I was in life would have barely recognized my present self (body swapping aside). Whatever Harold’s little scheme had been, it was working...perhaps a little too well.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Three weeks later, I made my first pickup...in more ways than one. I was in another young body, once again a redhead. She wasn’t much older than Julie had been, although whereas she had been athletic, this girl was more curvy, possessing a large D-cup
that managed to defy gravity thanks to her youth. It had been pretty obvious that Harold had been into her chest. While he fucked me as me, he spent an inordinate amount of time sucking and kneading her - my - nipples (not that I minded). That was nothing, though, compared to when he thought I had left. After eating me out, bringing me to climax no less than twice, he’d straddled my torso and proceeded to vigorously tit-fuck me. Obviously, I didn’t get much out of that, but he apparently did. He lasted maybe three minutes at most before exploding all over my chest and face. The old me would have been aghast at it. The new me found it strangely exciting.