End: Manitou Dawn Wants Sex

The mystic woman stared into Lois Lane's eyes. Manitou Dawn's eyes were deep, dark brown, almost black, had had the intensity of a bird of prey. Her high cheekbones gave the eyes an almost almond shape...and the reporter felt that stare peel away all of her defenses, as though it could see straight into her soul.

"But...we're women..." Lois said, feeling absurd even as she raised the point.

"This is not a time for any of your white person nonsense," Manitou Dawn said. "You are a...very attractive woman, Lois. Neither of us is married. We are both...in need of attention. I can smell it on you."

The bone stick touched the reporter's raincoat, and it fell open. The dark eyes flashed appreciatively as she saw the trim pale stomach, the carefully-trimmed thatch of black pubic hair, the slim waist and creamy thighs.

"Am I not also desirable?" the mystic breathed.

Lois Lane took in the long, dark straight hair, tied with feathers...the nut-brown arms and legs, more muscular and wiry than her own, the soft swell of Manitou Dawn'sbosom. The earthy scent of the woman, the quiet aura of confidence and power she projected. Even with the odd bone ornaments, the slash of blue paint on her face, there was no denying that the woman was attractive...and that Lois was, for all that happened tonight, still horny.

"Yes," Lois said, eyelids fluttering for a moment. It was an answer to both of her questions.

Manitou Dawn's mouth rose into a crooked smile, showing white, even teeth.

"Good. Now, before the sex, the magic!" she said.

Lois Lane didn't know if they had to be naked for the ritual...but she found herself naked, sitting crosslegged, with the bottle in her lap. Manitou Dawn spoke in a language Lois Lane didn't know...though she had attended Native American events as a reporter, Lois had never learned more than a few key phrases in any of their language. The bone-stick made passes in the air...and the lights in the apartment flickered and dimmed, as a sickly glow gathered about the cutting edge of that ancient bone.

Until they were alone in darkness, the edge of Manitou Dawn's tool was as bright as the sun, a piercing line of light that left after-images on the reporter's vision...

Things slithered around them. White, pale, thick yet runny. All the accumulated jizz of the night crept and crawled. Like small rivers, obeying some different gravity, they all flowed back toward the bottle. Lois felt a strange sensation, one she hadn't felt for a long time, as though she was peeing herself...and looking down, saw a white stream ooze its way out of her pussy lips.

The chant went on for what might have been minutes, or hours...until every single drop had, somehow, **** its way back into a bottle that should not have been big enough to contain it all. Lois felt oddly clean now, as though she had stepped out of a shower.

Manitou Dawn lowered her instrument.

"Inukchuk!"

Something flashed, and all the light erupted from the edge of the shaft. Lois Lane blinked, momentarily blinded...and when she looked again, the lights were back on, the apartment was normal...and a small, red, human form was squirming desperately in the bottle, half-drowning in white jizz, a glob of sticky black substance sealing the neck of the bottle.

"It is done. The spirit of shadow and flame is trapped, her curse returned to her threefold," Manitou Dawn said. She reached down and picked up the bottle, cut a hole in space with the sickle-like instrument, and thrust the trapped spirit inside. Then the mystic withdrew her hand, and the rent closed up, as though it had never been.

"Now..." the mystic said...but Lois Lane was way ahead of her.

Lois Lane shifted her legs underneath her, so that she was kneeling. Face even with the tall woman's crotch, Lois leaned forward and grabbed at the drawstring of her tight buckskin trousers.

Manitou Dawn, it turned out, did not shave. Her pussy was a forest, damp and fragrant...but through the bush, Lois could make out the dark lips of the other woman's labia. Grateful for her rescue and curious, Lois pushed her face forward, tongue extended. Tasted something tangy and sour...and then Manitou Dawn's staff hit the floor with a clatter, and two hands grabbed the naked reporter's head, pulling and guiding her to the hot, wet pussy within.

The mystic hadn't been lying. It had been a long time for her.

Those first few moments were almost violent in their intensity—but Manitou Dawn collected herself. Her grip on the reporter's skull eased. As Lois continued to lick, trying to remember everything she had ever heard about oral sex with women, the magician disrobed, shirt and pants hitting the floor in an awkward dance as she tried to keep as much of her cunny in contact with the reporter's mouth as possible.

Then, at last, she stepped back...a line of drool connected Lois Lane's lips with the dripping twat...and Manitou Dawn pointed toward the bed.

It was the first time that Lois had ever tried a sixty-nine. On her side, one ear pressed into Manitou Dawn's thigh like a pillow, running her tongue up and down those labia as the other woman found and sucked gently on the reporter's clit. Time seemed to lose meaning. It was measured only in their muffled moans, the strange feeling of hard, small hands exploring her body, the **** clutch as the other woman cried out in a language Lois didn't know, body bucking and heaving...and then burying her face between Lois Lane's legs again, determined to make Lois feel the same way.

Lois did.

The reporter's thighs clamped about her lover's head, the lips sucking on her clit, the taste of Manitou Dawn filling her mouth as the woman squirted, their breasts pushing into each other's bellies as they bucked and heaved...

It was dawn when, by mutual consent, the two separated a little. They lay side-by-side on the bed as the light stole in through the window of the reporter's bedroom. The mystic's fingers absently traced the shape of Lois Lane's cunt, smearing the wetness around.

"That was...nice," Manitou Dawn said. "Thank you."

"Yes, it was. You're welcome." Lois Lane replied...and never in her life did she imagine that her long, strange night out would end here, sharing her bed with another woman, chin dripping with her juices and jaw and tongue numb.

"Next time, however..." Manitou Dawn said.

Lois Lane raised her head. "Next time?"

The mystic woman smiled. "Of course. Did you think we were done?"

Something fluttered in Lois Lane's stomach...in truth, she had thought that was it.

"Well. What did you have in mind?"

So Manitou Dawn told her...and Lois Lane knew that her new adventures were just beginning. But that is another story.