Wet dreams in the Witch House

Wide shot of you and Chrissy spooning. Pyewacket dozes fitfully at your feet. Pan to a full view of the room, receding at high speed upwards to an areal view of Moose Lake, then all of Minnesota, the US, the Earth. Continue to speed backwards through the Milky Way and beyond revealing that our entire universe is but the seed in a golden apple with Kallisti emblazoned on it in the hand of Eris the daughter of Chaos and Night. She smiles. It’s the same smile that you’d see on the face of a pool hustler realizing that he has an easy mark. The type of smile God probably wears when frat bros get herpes. This is the kind of smile worn by someone who knows all the rules of the game but won’t tell you any of them.

Jump cut back to the bedroom. You feel the sensation of hands on you exploring your body. The sharp nails of the questing fingers lightly graze your flesh, a not unpleasant sensation. You’ve never seen this woman before, her skin is dusky, harmonic jaw, medium lips, straight hooked nose. Her eyes seem to be golden in the half light given off by the candle and her hair is straight and black with a v-shaped patch of white just at her widow’s peak. Her body is lithe and long, in total contrast to Beth and Chrissy. You believe you’re still dreaming and you may well be, though Chrissy breathes peacefully to your right.

The woman fondles your cock and rapidly mounts you without preamble, riding you hard, taking what she wants. Unlike your previous gentle romp with Chrissy or the violent but loving power exchange with Beth, she just uses you like a self automated dildo. This is fucking at its purest most carnal and bestial level. And dear God is she tight. Her cunt molds to your cock, fitting around you like a velvet glove. A very slippery velvet glove. As she reaches climax after climax she drags her long sharp nails over your chest leaving bloody furrows. She yowls with each orgasm, a guttural sound that issues from somewhere below her throat. Her soft and silky pubic hair rubs against your crotch and her small breasts bob in front of you, but each time you reach for one she swats your hand away.

You don’t find it odd that she hasn’t spoken in this time, and in fact are almost shocked when, having sated herself, she leans in close to you and in a throaty voice whispers, “Thank you, lover. That was just what I needed.” She then brings her mouth to yours and kisses you hard. You can feel her incredibly sharp teeth and almost sandpapery tongue.

And then you wake up. You’re on your back. Chrissy sleeps silently next to you. Pyewacket is sitting on your chest staring at you and purring contentedly. As you doze off again, you’re pretty sure that the cat winks at you.