The Spell of Six

by Casey Morgan

  He placed his glass down on the bar and just looked at me. There was desire in his eyes. Lust. I liked it.

  “Well?” I asked him. “What do you think of it?”

  “It’s delicious,” he said. “It’s just as good as everyone else said it was— even better, actually.”

  “That’s good,” I told him, confused about whether we still playing the “double entendre” game.

  “I have to wait on that big combined table, but I’ll be back,” I said, after a pause.

  Robert just nodded, which caused me to add, “I mean, to check on you, and see if you want any more cider, or, um, anything else.”

  He suddenly had his hands on my ass. He gave each one a nice squeeze, and it made my pussy so wet that I swear it started dripping.

  “I’ll look forward to seeing you around again, Gwendolyn,” is all he said.

  Fuck, I thought, as I walked over to the big table. I felt light-headed now, and out of sorts. Robert had a very strong effect on me, and I had to remind myself to stay focused on the task at hand: please the customers and hopefully make money and keep the doors of the Lucky Spell Pot open a bit longer.

  “Hello again,” I told the redheaded girl, with a big smile plastered on my face. “I’m sorry about the wait.”

  “Oh, it’s no problem,” she said. “I work in hospitality myself, and I understand how everything can hit at once. I’m Shanna, by the way. Shanna Hennessy.”

  We shook hands while I told her my name, and I admired her confident personality and big smile.

  “It looks really busy in here,” she said. “Is it always this crowded?”

  “I wish,” I told her, my cheeks reddening with the embarrassing truth. “Usually this place is pretty dead. I own it, and I’m trying to save it.”

  “We know a little something about that,” said the elf to Shanna’s left. “I’m Ryan Hennessy, and this is my brother Brody.”

  I shook their hands while Brody said, “We are part owners of a bar and restaurant ourselves, actually. It’s in a bed and breakfast.”

  “And it’s in Ireland,” Shanna said.

  “Interesting!” I told her.

  I was trying to figure out what the deal with the three of them was. I had assumed Ryan was her husband. But she was standing quite close to Brody now. She sounded like an everyday American— in fact, she looked quite familiar, as if I knew her, maybe— but the elves had Irish accents that were so thick I could barely understand them.

  “What can I get you to drink?” I asked them.

  “I think we’ll all start out with a round of your world-famous hearty Harvest cider,” Brody said.

  I laughed, and Ryan said, “What’s so funny?”

  “I would hardly call it world famous,” I told him. “Although, there was another guy who just told me he’d heard it was great.”

  I turned around to nod in Robert’s direction, but he wasn’t there.

  Damn.

  I guess he’d left already.

  So much for being sure he’d want to join the other four and me on whatever journey we were embarking on.

  “See?” Shanna said. “World famous.”

  “Well, he was just a local guy; he lives here in Love’s Hollow.”

  He’s one of the human business men I’m supposed to be avoiding, but instead I want him to join my harem of guys who want to fuck me, I thought to myself, but I obviously didn’t tell her this.

  It was crazy. I couldn’t believe I was with four guys and wanted to be with one more. But I guessed it was too hard to try to control what the heart wanted. Not to mention what the body wanted— my panties were still soaked from the way that Robert had touched me.

  “Well, we heard about it, and we live in Ireland, so that should be enough to count as world-famous,” another redhead said.

  She looked a lot like Shanna, and also had an American accent. And she was a witch as well.

  Are they sisters? I wondered.

  But she didn’t look as familiar to me as Shanna did. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew her from somewhere.

  “I’m Mila,” she said, and we shook hands. “This is Aiden. And Donovan and Killian.”

  When the elves beside her didn’t turn around because they were deep in conversation about the difference between American football and European futbol, she elbowed one of them and said, “Come on, honey, say hello to our waitress. Don’t be rude.”

  “Sorry about that,” said the elf. “I’m Aiden.”

  Donovan and Killian then did the same. Then, the last group of people introduced themselves as well.

  The American witch was named Keira Hallister, and all the Irish elves also had the last name of Hallister: Connor, Seth and Ronan.

  What in the world was going on here?

  Each group seemed to have an American witch and multiple Irish elves, and I couldn’t tell which ones were the couples and which ones were the friends.

  “So, how did you hear about me in Ireland?” I asked them. “And where in Ireland do you come from? Also, what are you doing here in Love’s Hollow?”

  I didn’t mean for so many questions to come spilling out of my mouth. It seemed I was very curious. Plus, I couldn’t ask them the questions I really wanted to, such as, which one of you is coupled up with whom?

  “The answer to all of those questions are actually pretty related to each other,” Shanna said, with a chuckle. “We’re from Luck’s Hollow, Ireland.”

  “You are?” I asked, hardly able to believe it.

  “We sure are!” said Shanna. “Or at least, I live there now, and so do Mila and Keira. The guys were already from there, for their whole lives. I’m originally from here, actually.”

  “Here in Love’s Hollow?” I asked, incredulous.

  No wonder she looked familiar.

  “Yeah,” she laughed. “My maiden name is McDonnell.”

  “Oh, okay!” I said, recognizing her family name. “I was year behind your sister Nora in school.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  I laughed, remembering Nora as rather pretentious and entitled. I supposed even her own sister thought this about her.

  “Don’t be,” I told her. “I didn’t have to have many interactions with her.”

  “That’s good,” she said. “Unfortunately, as her sister, I couldn’t avoid it.”

  “That’s okay, honey,” Brody said, putting his arm around her. “Because if it weren’t for all that crap that happened with Nora, you never would have been able to be with us.”

  “That’s true,” she said, smiling up at him— he was very tall.

  Did he just say “us”? I wondered.

  “No one wants to hear that sickening sweet stuff,” Mila told them. “She was asking why we’re here.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Shanna said. “I get so distracted when Brody touches me.”

  I remembered how Robert had grabbed my ass earlier— and how the other four guys touched me— and I could definitely relate.

  “Anyway,” Mila said, taking over the talking. “I’m from New York too— but way closer to the city than this is— and I went to Luck’s Hollow to find my relatives. While I was there, I met Shanna and we became fast friends. And she told me that some of my distant ancestors probably helped found Love’s Hollow, New York. I said we’d have to all take a trip out here some time.”

  “Yeah, and I’m originally from New York City,” Keira piped in. “So, we stopped to see my family’s, and Mila’s, since we both live in Ireland now. Then we headed here to see Shanna’s relatives, and enjoy your famous cider.”

  “I see,” I said, laughing, realizing that it was Shanna, who was from here, who told them about the Lucky Spell Pot and the cider. But I guessed that technically still made it “world famous.”

  “We made sure to come during Harvest festival time,” said Ryan. “Shanna said it was the best time.”

  “It’s pretty much the only time there’s anything to do here in Love’s
Hollow,” Shanna laughed.

  Then, Ryan put his arm around Shanna, too.

  I tried hard not to stare, but it must have been pretty obvious that I had seen it.

  “Oh, sorry,” Shanna said. “I hope you don’t mind, but we’re in a polyamorous relationship.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said. In fact, I was thrilled to see that there were other people who did what I guessed I was doing. But what was I doing, exactly? Maybe these people could help me figure it out. “But what is that? A polyamorous relationship?”

  “It just means that more than two people are in love,” Keira stepped up to say. As she did, she held hands with the four elves beside her. Mila did the same with her own three elves. “It’s like, group love.”

  “Group love,” I said, mulling the phrase over in my mind. I liked the sound of it. “Well, I don’t mind that at all. In fact, I think I might be kind of in one of those relationships, myself.”

  “Oh really?” Shanna asked. “Do tell!”

  “Well, there are just several guys who are interested in me at once,” I told her. I lowered my voice so that no one else would hear. “I mean, four do for sure. And I think the fifth does, but he hasn’t wanted to get involved in… whatever the rest of us are doing.”

  “I get it,” one of the elves— I forgot all their names now— said. “Sometimes it can be hard to dive right in to such a scary thing. But it’s definitely worth the effort.”

  I wanted to ask him how I would convince Robert of this. But I looked around at the busy restaurant and realized that this wasn’t the best time or place for me to be discussing my personal life.

  “Gwendolyn!” a gruff voice suddenly rang out.

  I turned to see my chef sticking his head out over the bar.

  “We have a backlog of food we cooked back there, and no one has brought them out to the patrons,” he said.

  Oops.

  “Sorry, I have to go,” I told them. “But I’ll be right back with your ciders shortly, and I can also take your food orders. Don’t worry, I won’t let them get cold!”

  “It’s no problem,” Brody insisted. “Like I said, we run a bar with our Aunt Bridget, and I know it’s not easy.”

  “Thanks, guys,” I told them, as I walked back to the kitchen.

  Thanks for teaching me that polyamorous relationships are something that people actually do, and that I’m not as weird as I was thinking I was, for wanting to be in one.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alex

  I didn’t know about the others, but for the rest of the day after visiting Gwendolyn at lunch, my mind was on her. On how beautiful she looked behind the counter, how pleasant and sweet she was when she served us drinks. Made conversation with us.

  But I also remembered in stark, disturbing clarity how sad and harassed she’d looked when talking about Maxine and Carl Axelrod. The instigators of her financial trouble.

  I wasn’t sure what I wanted or could do about the Axelrods. But I didn’t really need to know. I knew David and Eric.

  Since they had both been literally and figuratively fucked by Maxine, and by extension, her husband, Carl, I knew they would find some way to deal with them. A way that was much more satisfying and effective than anything I might think up.

  Still, I worried for Gwendolyn. I pined for her.

  I waited for the end of our workday like the rest of them, waiting for what we all knew we were going to do. Pile into a single car and go visit her for the dinner rush. Help her out with an onslaught of customers if necessary. Each one of us.

  I could tell we were going to go as a team again, just by looking at our eyes. The way they all continued to find the clock, and count down the seconds, the minutes and hours until we could be legitimately, legally free of any entrepreneurial obligation.

  That moment finally came at just after five p.m. On the dot, for once in his life, my brother shut down his computer. Swung away from his desk, grabbed his coat, car keys, and commanded that we all follow him. Move our asses and get down to the car, so we could get down to The Lucky Spell Pot before the dinner hour got too much for Gwendolyn, and she drowned in used silverware and plates.

  I had no objection to this. None whatsoever.

  I was the first in the car, followed by Travis, then Eric. David climbed in the front seat, looking at me in the passenger. Whatever his plans or motives, they were the same as mine. But also in competition with mine. I could and would not forget that. Not where Gwendolyn was concerned.

  What else we did for tonight, I was going to be the one to take her home with me. To fuck her sweet and slow, before maybe letting my brother know that I’d already had her, and just how good she was. And how fucking much he was missing out.

  When we got there, The Lucky Spell Pot was packed to the rafters, as it had been the night before, the inside and outside teemed with people, crowded with cars and traffic, making it so that my brother had to again park a few blocks down, and walk with us to the front doors. Inside the establishment, where Gwendolyn waited expectantly. She smiled gratefully seeing us.

  We immediately sprang into action, grabbing aprons and little booklets to take orders on and flooding out through the crown. Through the tables, taking orders, busing surfaces, and anything else that needed to be done. I didn’t know how long we would work before things settled down, but I didn’t care.

  All I cared about was getting on the other side of this, getting some time with her, and then popping my question, making an offer for her to go home with me instead of any of the other guys, and letting me massage all those sore muscles. All those aching, needy centers I knew she had because I had them too.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alex

  Three grueling hours. That was what it ended up being after everything was all said and done, after the last patron cleared out from the last table, paid his tab, and left us alone with Gwendolyn. As I had done the first night I met her, I took that as my cue to get up and go to the door. Throw the locks on, and turn the sign from “open” to “closed.” Something I can honestly say I’ve never been happier to do than I was now.

  Both to ensure Gwendolyn some time to rest, and to ensure that my plan would go off without a hitch. As I made my way back toward the bar, I noticed Eric behind the counter with her. Travis as well. They had started helping her put away clean glasses, and bottles of liquor.

  Now, they were also kissing her. Touching and caressing her shoulders, arms and breasts. And she was letting them. Smiling and giggling as they did, and that made me all the more fired up. Angry in a way, since that had been my idea. Except not in the middle of her bar, but in my bedroom. On my fucking bed, without any of these other bozos here.

  “Hey,” I said, storming up to the bar, throwing myself over it. “What the hell are you guys doing?”

  We all knew what the hell they were doing, but Travis looked at me through thick, drunken eyelids and said, “What is it look like?” With this, he plunged his fingers down toward her crotch, where they traced patterns along her crotch line. Her panty line, if she hadn’t been wearing fancy slacks over them. Her apron was long gone. “Were giving her a hand.”

  “A couple,” answered Eric, looking oddly confident and defiant for his usual laid-back, and devil-may-care attitude. He ran his hands over Gwendolyn’s breasts. Under her dress shirt, visibly cupping her bra, the nipples and chubby goodness underneath that, lighting my jealousy even more.

  “That’s one too many, if you ask me,” I said, remembering my vow to take her home and make her mine. Only mine. I moved forward, not sure what I wanted to do first. Take Travis’s hand away from her slack-covered pussy, or Eric’s away from her warm, soft boobs. Breasts I wanted all to myself.

  Gwendolyn glanced over at me, giving me a lick of her lips. A flutter of her eyelashes. Before I’d made any conscious decision to move over to her, I did. I captured her cheeks in my hand, before burying my lips on hers. Pressing them on hers, and plunging my tongue into her mouth.


  Almost immediately I was hard, and softly grinding against her leg. Against the hip and thigh I was closest to, unable to keep a groan from escaping.

  Gwendolyn moaned too, guiding my hand around that same thigh. Around her firm, shapely ass, and beneath the waistband of her slacks. As my fingers slipped over and down the material, and my palm cupped my first expanse of warm, plump asscheek, I was hooked. I was addicted to her. I swiveled around her some. Both to get away from Travis and his insistent, incessant fondling and gripping of her pussy.

  As I rotated in this way, I used it as an opportunity to kiss her neck. Push away her red hair and nibble her ear. Lick it slowly and methodically, whispering to her, “If I didn’t have to share right now, I wouldn’t. I take you home and make you all mine. Every inch of you. Inside and out,” I teased, enjoying the way she gasped as I said this and leaned simultaneously more forward into Travis, and more back into me. Into the hand that was massaging her hips and butt through her underwear.

  After only a few seconds of this, she was already moaning. Already trembling under my touch. As I slipped part of her underwear aside, and began to massage the ring inside her rosy cheeks.

  David was suddenly there. At her back, unbuttoning her dress shirt from over Eric’s hand, still buried deep in her bra. Probably fondling and squeezing some very luscious, very soft and tender breasts. Some hard and pebbly nipples, just begging to be twisted. Nipped at like you meant it, and then filled with your cock.

  Mine.

  David undressed her, whispering to me, “You were never good at sharing, baby brother. And you’re the only one who doesn’t.”

  Under these words, Gwendolyn’s dress shirt practically melted off of her. Fluttered away from her like a piece of burned paper in a fire. She gave a laughing sigh. Something so addictively maddening I couldn’t help it. I shoved a finger in her ass hole and began to rock it gently back and forth. She bent over, casually giving me more access.

  Access Travis immediately appreciated, and put to good use. While I couldn’t see how fast he stroked her pussy, I could tell by her quick breathing, how much wetter she became. Even as I put another finger in inside her, rolled it around in a twisting pattern a real “corkscrew” affair, she opened more. Craved more.