Power Mage 5

by Hondo Jinx

  Alex screamed, trying to cushion Lars’s fall, and saw the red-haired woman from Times Square exit the crackling portal.

  Danica McLeod, Alex’s terrified mind thought. The Dragon.

  The terrifying Order agent had no gun. But then again, she didn’t need one.

  A pair of bearded Chaotics popped up and started firing from behind makeshift cover.

  Their rounds ricocheted off a dome of shimmering red light that suddenly appeared around the Dragon, who opened her mouth and exhaled an enormous burst of bright orange flame.

  The bearded Chaotics disappeared in a conflagration that raced away, eating shacks and incinerating screaming defenders.

  “I told you to run,” Lars snarled, lifting himself from Alex and bringing his weapon to bear on the Dragon.

  Alex gawked. Nothing seemed quite real. Somehow, Lars had pulled together again. He was covered in blood, but his wounds had healed.

  The Dragon whipped her head in their direction. Finding Alex, the red-haired woman’s eyes flashed with recognition.

  The Dragon smiled then opened her mouth and—

  “Look out!” Lars shouted, throwing her to the ground and shielding her with his hard body.

  A river of flames struck Lars, setting him on fire.

  As Alex screamed, the crackling orange flood rushed over Lars and found her hair, her clothes, her flesh.

  And then Alex was engulfed in flames.

  Wild with panic, she got to her feet and sprinted away from the Dragon, burning like a human torch.

  Then Alex lifted ten feet into the air, propelled by some invisible force. She whipped over the heads of fleeing Chaotics and plunged, still burning and still screaming, into yet another wormhole portal, this one crackling with crimson hues.

  20

  Brawley backed Tammy up against the bed, which the girls had made and strewn with rose petals. On the mirror, a message in garish red lipstick announced, Congratulations, Tammy and Brawley! We love you both so much!

  Brawley gripped his bride by the small of the back, cupped her jaw, and angled her beautiful face toward his.

  All the anxiety had been washed from her eyes by the fountain of joy gushing in them now.

  “Are you Seekering me?” Tammy asked.

  Brawley looked at her like she was crazy.

  “I just can’t believe how happy I feel,” Tammy laughed. “It doesn’t seem real.”

  “Well, it is real, darlin. It’s all real.”

  They kissed.

  Tammy hugged him, closing her eyes and pressing her face to his chest. “I love you, Brawley Peckinpah Hayes.”

  He kissed the top of her head. Tammy’s hair flexed beneath his lips, stiff with whatever product the girls had used to sculpt it.

  “I love you, too, Tammy.”

  They kissed for a time, passionate yet patient, taking their time and enjoying the moment and the newness of being together.

  Tammy was different than his other wives. A woman through and through, she lacked their girlishness.

  Partly, this was a function of age. Twenty-seven was still young, but as Tammy too frequently reminded him, it wasn’t eighteen or twenty.

  Part of it was being a mom. A female doesn’t need to be a mother to be a “real” woman, whatever that means, but having and raising children does change her.

  And part of it—most of it, Brawley reckoned—was a factor that straddled age and motherhood: experience. Tammy had seen a lot, done a lot, felt a lot. And as a Bender, she had spent the last decade hearing what the people around her really thought.

  Tammy dwelled upon a bedrock of seriousness, defined by a deep, selfless commitment to her loved ones and radiated a sense of unshakable integrity that Brawley found very attractive.

  “You’re shaking, darlin.”

  Tammy smiled meekly. “Been a long time. I haven’t been with anyone since the accident.”

  “We can take her slow,” Brawley said.

  Tammy put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, then pulled his mouth down to her neck, where her sweet yet subtle perfume filled his nostrils.

  He kissed her neck, her throat. Then, tugging gently at her neckline, he kissed the hard line of her pronounced collarbone.

  Tammy shivered and laughed. “Slow is good. But let’s not go too slow. You’re making me crazy.”

  Brawley took her by the shoulders and turned her away from him and smoothed his hands down her arms. Tammy had lovely arms, lean and feminine yet firm with the daily rigors of life as a hardworking single mom.

  Leaning in, Brawley lifted the reddish-blond hair and planted a soft kiss just above the zipper of her dress. Her neck was damp with perspiration and left the faint tang of salt on his lips as he slowly kissed his way to her hairline.

  Tammy shuddered again beneath these soft ministrations. Goosebumps rose along her arms, bringing the fine, light hairs on her forearms to full attention.

  “I just hope you’re not disappointed,” Tammy whispered.

  Brawley laughed. “Darlin, I got a few concerns in the world, but that ain’t one of them.”

  “I mean, you’re used to Nina and Remi and—”

  “Hey,” he said, lowering his voice, “get out of your head. We’re together now, just you and me, and I’m fixing to show you how I feel.”

  Tammy nodded and let out a shuddering breath, and he felt her body relax a little.

  He unzipped her dress, opening a V-shaped window all the way to the lacy top of her white panties. Her back was lean and sinuous, the skin smooth and pale and lightly freckled to either side of the deep groove of her spine.

  He kissed her shoulders and spread the dress, pulling it away from her body and letting it drop to the floor.

  Clad only in lingerie, Tammy turned to him with a nervous smile on her face. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Let me see you,” Brawley said, and gently peeled her arms from her lean body. Holding her by the waist, he looked her up and down. “Darlin, you are beautiful.”

  Tammy laughed softly. “Thank you. Now it’s my turn.”

  She pushed his hands from her hips, stepped forward, and started unbuttoning Brawley’s shirt. She took her time, and Brawley liked the way her movements deepened the hollows of her collarbones and rippled the tiny muscles in her shoulders.

  Tammy’s gaze went back and forth between Brawley’s face and his hard, wiry body.

  She pulled his shirt away and let it drop beside her dress. She smoothed her hands over his chest and arms and trailed her fingers over his flat abdomen, a pained expression coming onto her face as she studied him. “So many scars.”

  “I haven’t led what you might call a cautious life.”

  “I wish I had been there for you,” she said, unhooking his belt buckle and unbuttoning his jeans.

  Brawley kissed her forehead. “I got by,” he said. “Besides, I might could still have a few more scars coming my way.”

  Tammy shook her head. “Nope. No more scars allowed. This body’s mine now.”

  She unzipped his jeans, tugged them halfway down his thighs, and stepped back, gasping.

  Freed from its denim prison, his erection towered proudly, half its thick length jutting up from the waistband of his jockeys.

  “Um…” Tammy said with a nervous laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Brawley shrugged. “It gets the job done.”

  Tammy gaped at him, trapped between fear and wonderment. “About the whole taking-it-easy thing? Yeah, let’s stick with that plan, okay?”

  “That works,” Brawley said, and reached for her.

  Tammy skittered backward against the bed, her bulging eyes locked on his manhood.

  He drew her into a hug and pressed her back into the bed frame, letting her feel his hardness against her body. It ran from beneath her belly button all the way up to the front of her bra, which he unclasped behind her.

  The lacy fabric fell away, revealing small breasts spritzed with
freckles and tipped with hard, pink nipples.

  Lowering his head, he took one breast in his mouth, sucking gently.

  Tammy gasped.

  He felt her hands on his hips, tugging at his jockeys.

  He reciprocated, hooking his big fingers in the waistband of her little white panties and pulling them down her legs.

  He lowered slowly into a crouch, trailing light kisses down her taut and trembling body, brushing his lips across her visible ribs and flat stomach and prominent hip bone.

  Tammy tensed when he lifted her leg over his shoulder, then inhaled sharply when he pressed his mouth into the trim wedge of blond hair between her legs.

  With that soft kiss, her sex opened to him, surrendering her slick and tender folds to his questing mouth.

  “Oh Brawley,” Tammy moaned, sliding her fingers into his hair and gripping the back of his skull in both hands.

  Slowly and softly, he lapped at Tammy’s slippery slit, loving the taste and smell of her. With each lick, he delved deeper, splitting her swollen folds with his tongue.

  Tammy stood on tiptoes, her entire body tense and trembling, humming with pleasure and pulling at the back of his head, urging him wordlessly to keep going.

  He bobbed his head up and down, licking and sucking and occasionally pausing to flick the tip of his tongue rapidly against the inflamed nub at the top of her sex.

  Abruptly, Tammy gasped, went rigid from head to toe, and squeezed Brawley’s hair in tight fists. “Sheeee-iiiiiit,” she groaned, and then she cried out, her stiff body jerking like that of a woman locked onto an electric current.

  Brawley smeared his lips into her soft, wet flesh, kissing her as she climaxed.

  Her surprise orgasm went on and on and on. Brawley rode it with his mouth, even when she whimpered, pushing at his head and whining, “Too much, too much.”

  When her convulsions of ecstasy finally subsided, Tammy filled the room with bright, embarrassed laughter that was nothing if not girlish.

  “Oh my gosh,” she said, and fell back on the bed, panting softly and smiling glassy-eyed up at the ceiling with the back of one wrist pressed to her forehead. “That was unexpected.”

  Brawley laughed and climbed onto the bed, hovering over her on all fours.

  Smiling up at him, Tammy said, “Um… thanks?”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, and lowered his lips to kiss her forehead.

  She yanked his mouth down to hers and kissed him with new, feverish passion. Then she pulled her lips away and scooted down the bed beneath him, lifting her upper body to kiss her way down his chest, shimmying lower, inch by inch.

  Still up on all fours, Brawley watched the top of her head disappear and felt her lips against the swollen head of his manhood. She kissed and licked his sensitive flesh, then tried and failed to take him in her mouth, managing only to stretch her lips over the fat tip of his head.

  Meanwhile, she took him in both hands, measuring him hand over hand like kids using a bat to determine who went first in a game of pickup baseball.

  She stroked him up and down, up and down, as her mouth continued to work its wet and playful magic. Tammy was moaning again, loving it, and he knew that on some level she had let go for the first time in a long time, waking something wild and natural and good within her.

  One of her small hands moved to his balls, where an urgent heat was suddenly building toward eruption. She squeezed and hefted his heavy balls then gripped the base of his scrotum and tugged gently at his sack like she was milking a cow.

  Only Brawley wasn’t a cow. He was a bull. And he didn’t want to cum like this.

  No. The bull wanted to ride this beautiful mother. Ride her, know her, own her, and pump her womb full of hot seed.

  She struggled as he pulled her from his erection. “Let me keep going, Brawley.”

  “Nope,” he said, and pulled her back up the bed until they were face-to-face again. His saliva-slick manhood lay heavily upon her firm torso.

  Tammy growled with frustration, trying and failing to wriggle back down in order to continue sucking him.

  “I wanted to do something special for you,” she confessed. “Something I’ve never done for anyone else. I was going to let you finish in my mouth. I want to swallow your stuff.”

  Tammy’s face went beet red, and she laughed nervously.

  In that instant, Brawley realized his new bride was trapped in a weird place. Yes, she was older than his other women, and yes, she had experienced marriage and motherhood. But for a long time, she had led a chaste life. And before that, she had led a happy yet somewhat sheltered love life. She and Charlie had met in middle school, dated through high school, married in their teens, and enjoyed a healthy yet ultimately vanilla sex life.

  Now, madly in love with Brawley, Tammy teetered upon the rim of a whole new sexual universe. She was excited to strip away all vestiges of arrested development and plunge into a sensual existence she had once assumed had passed her by.

  “That sounds good to me, darlin,” Brawley said, speaking the honest truth, “but later. Right now, I want to be inside you.”

  Tammy smiled up at him. An intermission of sorts ensued as they kissed and nuzzled and ran their hands over each other, touching and discovering and teasing.

  Without speaking, they got themselves into position, the moment tightening down with that happy gravity that precedes a first coupling between people in love.

  Tammy spread her legs and bent her knees, drawing them up to open herself fully to him.

  Brawley touched his tip to her folds, and Tammy shivered.

  He pushed forward, but his head wouldn’t fit.

  She rolled her hips, pushing into him, but she was too tight.

  Brawley pulsed his hips back and forth, knocking on the door, but it was no good. He was simply too big for her.

  So he sat cross-legged on the bed, his erection jutting up like a flagpole from his lap.

  Tammy stood over him and lowered herself slowly until they were touching again, then lowered herself some more.

  His first inch squeezed inside, stretching her.

  She paused, panting, her small breasts swaying before his face.

  “Ridiculous,” she muttered, and lowered herself another inch. A little moan escaped her, half pleasure, half pain.

  That sound flicked a switch in Brawley’s mind. He loved all of his women and made love to each of them differently. Each woman had her own needs and turn-ons and preferences.

  Tammy would have her own needs and desires.

  Brawley was an active, dominant lover by nature. With some of the women, especially Callie, he reveled in breaking them upon his huge pole. It was a turn on to watch the distraught little cat girl wriggling on his massive erection, swept into a cum-drunk ecstasy of submissive brokenness.

  But he felt none of that toward Tammy. Their love had been growing slowly yet steadily over recent weeks, drawing them together, and he was eager to make love to her. Not fuck. Make love.

  He didn’t want to break her. He wanted to make her whole again.

  So he did something he had never done before. Tapping his Carnal strand, he willed his manhood to contract into itself. He took his time, reducing his length and girth quarter inch by quarter inch, saying nothing as Tammy, straddling him, sunk farther and farther down his length.

  Tammy didn’t seem to notice what he was doing. She moaned and bit her lip, eyelids lazing nearly shut, completely absorbed in her effort to take his member and utterly transported by passion.

  Finally, she slid all the way down and let out a victorious cry that crumbled into a rumbling moan of extreme pleasure. She sat atop Brawley’s folded legs, impaled up on his still massive erection.

  Tammy put her arms around him and leaned her body into his. He slipped his hands behind her, squeezing her ass as she rode him, rubbing their bare chests together.

  “Feels… so… good,” Tammy panted.

  “Sure does, darlin,” Brawley said, and felt a f
amiliar heat kindling within his loins.

  And not just his loins.

  Warmth was spreading through his pelvis and into hers.

  Suddenly, as the first stage of bonding blessed them, he could feel what Tammy was feeling.

  Her eyes flew open and stared, awestruck, into his. “What’s that? I can feel… you.”

  He grinned at her and kissed her cheek, still pumping softly with his hips, loving the feel of this tight, beautiful woman riding him toward a crescendo of loving bliss.

  Tammy slid up and down his length a few more times, then froze midway down his throbbing shaft. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes swelled. “I can feel you. Like… inside you… like I’m part of you.”

  Brawley nodded, grinning. “And like I’m part of you. Feels good, don’t it?”

  “It feels awesome,” Tammy laughed, “like I’m more than me, like I’ll never be alone again.”

  “You won’t be alone again,” he said.

  Looking into his eyes, she said, “You promise?”

  And suddenly, he found himself on slippery ground. A promise was a promise, and for as easy as it might be to promise this incredible woman that he would never leave her, later this very same day, he was leaving his West Texas fortress to assault a heavily armed supermax prison.

  But Tammy wasn’t only bonding with him. She was also bonding with five other women, some of whom would be staying behind with her.

  So with a clean conscience, he leaned forward, kissed her, and said, “Yes, darlin, I promise. You will never be alone again.”

  “Oh Brawley,” she cried, hugging him to her, and he felt a pulse of warmth as their intermingling energies surged. Those energies spread away from their union, glowing as they suffused their thighs and abdomens.

  “Oh!” Tammy said, rocking back to again stare wide-eyed at him. “Did we just bond?”

  Brawley laughed.

  “What?” she said, wriggling on him, wallowing in their shared and spreading warmth. “Stop laughing at me. What?”

  “You thought we bonded already? Darlin, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  “Really?” she asked, sounding both excited and more than a little intimidated.

  “As we say in these parts, hold my beer.”