Charley gave her a wink. “You can be the rider.”
Marilyn remembered the last time she rode a horse. The sickening crack. The jolt. The whinnies that pierced like screams. The giant wheelchair her parents were forced to buy the poor animal.
And Charley wasn’t even a horse, not at the moment. She hated to think what damage she could do. “Uh, I don’t know.”
“Are you not sure about the sex? Or were you not serious about the pony play?”
Here was a guy who was cute and nice and sexy and magical. There was nothing more Marilyn could want.
But still, she was hesitating.
“You are feeling bad about your body?”
Marilyn smiled. “How did you know?”
“I think I’m getting to know you, Marilyn. Your expressions. Your body language. But don’t focus on your insecurities. I want you. Don’t ever doubt that. But let’s nix the pony play, at least for now. What I actually had in mind is a little practice.”
“Practice doing what?”
“Differentiating between what you’re feeling and what I’m feeling.”
It sounded intriguing, and after tasting a few of Charley’s kisses, Marilyn was eager to see what more he could make her feel. “How do we start?”
“Well,” Charley said, “I thought we could begin by undressing each other.”
A trill of excitement skittered over Marilyn’s skin at the thought, and since she had always been mortified about showing her naked body, she guessed the sensation was coming from Charley. Still, as nervous as she was about him seeing her naked, she had to admit, she was a little excited, too. “Who starts?”
“You,” he said, as if he sensed she needed the ice breaker.
“Are you sure you aren’t an empath, too?” she said.
“Nay. Horses are often sensitive to their riders’ emotions, though.”
Marilyn liked the sound of that.
“Okay, take off my clothes,” Charley said.
So Marilyn did. She started with his polo shirt, pulling it over his head and leaving his broad chest and ripped abs bare. Apparently pulling a carriage all day was a great ab workout, not that she was tempted to try. She took in the sprinkling of dark hair on his caramel colored skin, and her fingertips itched to touch.
“No touching,” Charlie said.
“How did you know I wanted to touch you?”
“The look on your face and the movement of your fingers.”
Marilyn smiled. She unbuttoned his jeans and slid the zipper open. He pressed against the denim, and she couldn’t help but picture him as a horse.
No, no, no.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh, nothing.” Marilyn hesitated, staring at his bulge. “But you’re, uh, fully human now, right? I mean…”
“Am I hung like a horse?”
“Are you?”
“Yes, but in a human sort of way. Take a look.”
She inched the zipper down, and it didn’t take much to realize he was going commando under those jeans. He sprang free of his confines, and Marilyn cried out in surprise.
Good surprise, not horse-penis surprise.
With his help, she scooched his pants down his legs and dropped them on the floor. Then she just stared. “You’re… you’re…”
Charley just grinned. “How are you feeling?”
“In awe. And really, um, eager.”
“And how am I feeling?”
“Smug.”
“Damn straight,” he said. “And now, it’s my turn.”
Marilyn wasn’t sure she could focus on anything but his naked body. She wasn’t even sure if she remembered her own name. A blood flow problem, obviously. But she managed to nod.
He raised his hands to the back of her neck and untied the halter, then he lowered the top of her dress. Since the bra had been built into the garment itself, through the magic of warlock lingerie engineering, her bare breasts spilled free.
To keep from spinning off into mortified embarrassment and body-issue hysteria, Marilyn concentrated on sensing Charley’s emotions.
Awe.
Desire.
Pounding lust.
An urge to lick… to suck...
He continued, guiding the wispy, wonderful fabric over her hips, baring her whole body, stomach rolls and all. But still the emotions Marilyn was reading from him didn’t change.
Finally, he just stared at her, shaking his head. “You’re gorgeous. How did I get so damn lucky?”
Lucky. He felt lucky to be with her.
Her!
“I guess you know how I feel,” Charley said with a sheepish smile. “Now how do you feel?”
Marilyn looked down at her body. Her white thighs and fat stomach. Her huge breasts and erect nipples. She never liked looking at her own body. Every time she did, all she could see were the eighty million flaws. But that wasn’t all she felt.
“I feel eager to have you touch me. And I want to touch you.”
“That’s the next step. But I’m going to go first this time.”
Charley brought his hands to her breasts, cupping one in each palm. He pinched her nipples until they were straining for more, then he rolled them between his fingers.
Marilyn’s legs felt weak, and she lowered herself to the leather couch. Charley sat down beside her, his hands still on her, skimming his fingers over her belly and up her legs. Heat spread over her skin, chased by chills. Her body warmed, softened, craved more intimate contact.
But the thing that really turned her on was the pleasure she sensed in him. It was like nothing she’d ever imagined. It was as if he was worshiping the touch of her. Her breasts, between her legs, but everything else in between as well. The fat rolls over her middle. The cellulite on her butt. He was inspired, and the most mind-blowing thing of all was that her body was his inspiration. As if her obvious imperfections didn’t exist. Not for him.
And she started to wonder why they mattered so much to her.
He slid his fingers between her thighs, stroking the slick wetness of her, and then pushing two fingers inside.
Marilyn arched her back and pushed against him, opened to him. It was a strange feeling, sensing what it felt like to both enter her and be entered. She wanted to touch him, to wrap her fingers around him, and before she realized it, that was exactly what she was doing.
He was large, even larger than he’d looked, and she couldn’t get her fingers totally around him. The head of his, uh, little horse, slanted upward to the sensitive spot on his underside. And when Marilyn traced it with her fingertip, he flexed upward, pushing into her hand.
As she played with him, all she could think about was his hardness, his urgency, his pulsing need, and she thought that might be coming from him. But then he slipped three fingers inside her, and she wondered if that lust wasn’t hers the whole time.
Then came the kissing and licking. First him, tonguing her nipples, suckling, nipping. She felt full, heavy, and so, so wet. He leaned her back onto a pillow and littered kisses over her belly. Slowly tasting each bit, as if she was delicious, back fat and everything. And when she was sure she couldn’t get more wet or more eager, he moved lower and delved between her legs.
Marilyn opened her thighs wide and rode his mouth. He ground into her, then switched to tongue swirls, then drove inside. She could sense his effort, his desire to please her. Then her own heat grew to be too much, and she could think of nothing else. Heat and lust and blossoming and acceptance.
And she came a lot, too.
When it was her turn, her fingers were trembling, her whole body pulsing in time with the lingering throb between her legs. She skimmed her fingertips up his length, and again his bronc rose to her touch, as if he didn’t just want her attention, he demanded it.
She climbed off the couch and kneeled between his legs. Then she began to tease his tip with her tongue. He smelled like horse, but his dew drop of pre cum tasted like frothy, whipped cream and chocolate mousse. Well, a littl
e saltier than that, but still delicious. Witches had a particularly delicate gag reflex, but with Charley, Marilyn doubted she’d have a problem.
She circled her tongue around his head, then nibbled on him as if she was eating a cob of corn with her lips. Then she took him into her mouth, teasing his most sensitive area with her tongue, and took him deeper. And deeper. And--
Deep enough, her gag reflex told her, and she began moving up and down his shaft. Glancing up at him, she latched onto his gaze and held it, willing him to know how much she wanted him.
“You’re driving me crazy, Marilyn. You are so bad.”
She pulled back, letting him slide from her mouth, horrified. She hadn’t picked up on that. All she’d sensed of his feelings revolved around his cock in her mouth and how grateful he was to have it there. “I’m bad?”
“No, no, no. Good, bad. You’re amazing.”
“Oh.”
“But I’m going to be amazing, too in a second. And before that happens, I really want to feel what it’s like to be inside you.”
And although Marilyn was a little confused, she wanted very much for him to be amazing, and to be inside her as well.
She stood up in front of him, straddled his lap, and lowered herself onto him. Her body resisted at first. As wet and soft and ready as she was, she worried he was too big. But that wasn’t all. The last time she’d ridden a horse, things hadn’t ended well. And between his size and her heft, someone was bound to get hurt.
“What’s wrong?” Charley asked.
“I’m afraid you’re too big.”
“We’ll take it slow. I won’t hurt you.”
“I’m afraid I’m too heavy.”
“Marilyn, you are not too heavy.”
“I’m afraid this will end in screams.”
“I hope it will.”
“Not the good kind.”
“Well, let’s make them the good kind, okay?”
“Are you sure you want to risk this? I don't know if Obamacare covers sex injuries, and my credit cards are maxed, and giant horse wheelchairs are so expensive--”
“Shhh,” he said, placing a finger on her lips. “Just let yourself feel.”
She looked into his eyes, well as best she could see them, since her chest was blocking her view, and she took a deep breath and sank down onto him.
He entered, and her body stretched, letting him inside, then softened. Softened then stretched. And as she realized he wasn’t too big, that he was deliciously, if snugly, perfect, she focused on his sensations, his feelings.
After a dozen strokes, Marilyn couldn't discern whether she was being entered, or doing the entering. It seemed as if they were one person, one body, all delicious friction and tingly nerves and groaning, straining pleasure, undulating faster and faster in a glorious race for release.
To put it in other words, Marilyn rode the cock wagon to cumtown.
“Oh my Goddess! That was… That was...” Marilyn had no words.
“Fucking awesome,” Charley said, laughing.
Marilyn joined in.
“That was all you, Marilyn. You are powerful in ways we haven’t even begun to explore. Wow.”
“I've never gotten a wow before.”
“How does it feel?”
“It feels… well… wow.”
Marilyn kissed him. She was beginning to think Charley was right. Maybe she was powerful. That orgasm certainly was. And she could see spending a lot of time doing this kind of experimenting just to make sure it was true.
“Okay, now it’s your turn,” he said.
“My turn for what?”
“I’ve always wanted to know what it was like for women. I mean, not the periods or bloating or hot flashes. And not the lower pay and sexual harassment and fear of being raped. Even childbirth is a mixed bag. Some of it, like growing a kid all on your own, seems outrageously cool. But the morning sickness, pregnancy waddle, and pain of childbirth I can do without.”
He was beginning to make Marilyn not want to be a woman any longer. “What are you getting at, Charley?”
“I want to know something... else about women.”
“What?” She could sense his embarrassment, and it was sort of a turn-on. “Tell me.”
“I want to know what multiple orgasms feel like.”
“Sorry. That only works if you get paid 77% of what men earn for the same job.”
“Really?”
“Kidding.” She gave him a wink.
Charley broke out laughing. “You had me for a second there.”
“So how do I do this?” she asked. She’d already had more orgasms than she’d ever experienced in her life. But Charley hadn’t shared the sensation. He’d clearly enjoyed himself, but he hadn’t felt what she’d felt. “I can feel what you feel, but I don’t know how to make you feel what I feel.”
“Use your magic.”
Her magic. She’d gotten used to thinking of herself as not having magic, at least not enough to matter. “So what do I do? A spell?”
“How would I know? You’re the witch.”
“Okay, a spell it is.”
Charley positioned himself between her open thighs, his hot breath caressing her wet folds, and watched her expectantly.
Marilyn took a deep breath. She was making this up as she went, but fingers crossed, she started chanting.
“With love that's true and love that's real, let Charley feel the way I feel…”
As she repeated the phrase, Charley lowered his mouth and claimed her, moving his lips as if grazing in a lush, green pasture. She could feel his enthusiasm, his expectations, his magically prehensile horse lips. But although tendrils of desire whispered through her thighs and centered in her core, she had no sense that Charley was feeling the same thing.
She tilted her hips, bringing herself closer to his mouth. Though they'd only known each other a short while, he seemed to know her body better than Marilyn did, and found a wonderful rhythm that built and built and…
“With love that's true and love that's real, let Charley feel the way I feel!”
Marilyn's whole body clenched, her hands gripping his head as she pressed into him, her climax feeling like her soul had been ripped from her body. But he didn't relent, his greedy tongue continuing to stroke and probe, and Marilyn was sensitive and tried to pull away but he gripped her ass and moved as she moved, refusing to let her catch her breath, and then she peaked again--
--And again--
--And once more until she had to use all of her strength to push his face away because she was beginning to hyperventilate.
Charley looked up, just his warm, brown eyes peeking above her tastefully trimmed crotch. “So… that was good for you?”
“Oh… yes.”
“Multiples?”
“I lost count. I didn't think I could keep going. It was like it almost hurt, but then a switch flipped and it was incredible. You know what I mean?”
“No,” Charley said. “No, I don't.”
“Oh! I forgot! This was supposed to be for you!” She blushed. “Sorry, Charley.”
“Can we try this again?”
“Sure. I'll… I'll try a different chant.”
“Try something a little dirtier.”
“Dirtier?”
“You've never talked dirty?”
“Once, in tenth grade, a boy I liked said he wanted to tear off my panties.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Kinda hot. But it turned out he wanted them to make a tent for him and his buddies.”
“Kids can be cruel.”
Marilyn pushed memories of those dark days to the back of her mind. “I can try to be dirtier, if you want.”
“I want.”
Marilyn cleared her throat, and when his mouth touched her again, she began.
“As Charley licks and sucks my quim, let what I feel be felt by him.”
He looked up at her. “Quim?”
“It's another word for--”
<
br /> “I know what it means. I just don't think it's been used since the seventeenth century.”
She tangled her fingers in his hair and pushed him down there. “Just start eating, horse man.”
Charley began to lap at Marilyn once again, and she recited the silly chant, louder and louder, the sensations building until she wrapped her legs around his head and felt herself gasping for breath as she came over and over and--
Then he went completely limp. Marilyn realized that her gasping for breath was actually Charley, unable to breathe because she was clenching him so hard.
After a quick round of CPR, his eyelids fluttered open.
“I'm so sorry,” she said.
“No prob. Good for you?”
“It was amazing. You?”
“Still didn't feel it. How about we change positions?”
“You want to keep going? I almost killed you.”
He grinned. “But what a way to go. How 'bout I'll lie on my back. You straddle that big, beautiful butt over my face.”
“I'm not really comfortable with the whole face sitting thing.”
“Reverse cowgirl it is. Maybe if you're looking at my, uh…”
“Little horse?”
“That’s horrible, but yes. If you’re looking at -mumble, mumble- while you're chanting, that'll inspire some empath magic.”
Marilyn sighed. “I suppose, if I have to…”
A tenth of a second later she was riding Charley's face. As she ground on him, trying to capture his fluttering tongue, Marilyn focused on his proud, bobbing maleness, which seemed to wave at her and say, “Hi there. How about some multiples?”
“Like a fucking rock star strumming, let him come like I've been coming…”
Marilyn bucked and bounced, Charley's tongue her new best friend, and she chanted louder and louder as the orgasm began to build. But this time, rather than hoard it for herself, she concentrated on how Charley was feeling. How she'd like to be doing the same to him. And why shouldn't she? He was so close. All she had to do was reach over, open her mouth, and--
The thought of it brought an instant orgasm. But Marilyn wasn't alone this time.
Charley's horse spurted straight up, and then began to jerk as if an invisible hand was stroking it. The sight turned Marilyn on more than she'd ever been turned on, ever, and she came again, and then he was shooting like a sprinkler, his whole chest vibrating with groans, and the thought that he was actually feeling her multiple orgasm made Marilyn go absolutely out of her mind with pleasure.
Magic and Mayhem: The Seven Year Witch (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 5